A/N: I took a few more, shall we say, 'creative liberties' with the writing style towards the end of this chapter. If you don't like it, don't worry, it really is just a short section that is written like that. But I hope you do like it!
Warnings: violence and descriptions of injuries/blood (there is also more coarse language in this chapter than most of the others)
Chapter 7 - The Fear in Their Eyes
Cold marble pressed unyieldingly into Harry's back as thick ropes cut into his neck and squeezed his body so tightly that it was a struggle just to draw breath. Harry could not move anything but his eyes which roamed, seemingly of their own volition, from Cedric's body to the accursed stone cauldron before him to the horrific bundle near his feet. Harry wanted to scream or cry, but nothing made it way out past the gag in his mouth that tasted of sweat and blood.
"Hurry!" a high, cold voice pierced the night.
And then Wormtail was there, so close that Harry could feel that awful man's breath on his face. His watery eyes glinted in the flickering firelight emanating from beneath the cauldron and his drawn, pinched face looked almost gaunt. He stooped down to cradle the… thing… in the bundle and drew the cloak back to reveal the horrid, slimy, scaly, raw remnant of a mockery of human existence. Lowering the vile creature into the cauldron, Wormtail began the ritual.
Harry knew what was coming, but was utterly powerless to stop it. He couldn't even close his eyes within the confines of his own dream.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!" Rang Wormtail's stuttering voice. "Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master." In a single arc, he swung his dagger, amputating his own hand at the wrist. Harry felt the scream pierce his chest and resinate in his skull. "B-blood of the enemy. . . forcibly taken. . . you will. . . resurrect your foe." The same bloody, contaminated dagger raked down his own forearm leaving a deep trench that quickly overflowed with blood. Harry could feel the warm substance soaking into what remained of his sleeve, dripping down between his fingers and into the grass below.
The cauldron steamed and boiled and sparked and a tall figure slowly rose from the haze. But when it turned, it was not the Voldemort that Harry knew. It was not the slit-pupiled, red-eyed, snake-face that Harry had fought that dreaded night, nor was it the tall, dark, and handsome Tom Riddle that Harry had met in the Chamber of Secrets. The figure before him was some kind of monstrous hybrid of the two- it looked as though the young Tom Riddle had undergone some botched plastic surgery or perhaps survived a devastating fire, his features appearing burned and blurred. His skin was ghostly pale and had a waxy, unhealthy, and unnatural sheen. The whites of the eyes were horribly bloodshot.
It struck Harry with horrifying clarity that this was Voldemort as he was right now- in this present. Well on his way to his own annihilation- corrupted beyond human, but not quite the resurrected thing that he would one day become.
Wormtail presented his arm to his master who pressed a long white forefinger to the brand on the offered arm and Harry's scar exploded in pain. It was searing and sharp but at the same time there was a deeper, pulsing pressure. It felt as though Wortail had taken his dagger to redefine the scar on Harry's forehead while a flaming snitch attempted to break out of his skull, its fluttering wings beating against the inside of his head, and melting his brain in the process.
Harry let out a blood curdling scream.
It was the faint sound of wheezing that had awoken Remus. It took him a minute to pinpoint that that was what had roused him, but his keen ears had picked up on the slight disturbance in his usual environment. Rolling over, he glanced around to see if he could spot the source of the noise, but nothing looked out of place in the darkened dormitory.
When the breathing picked up, sounding too fast and too strained to be healthy, Remus scrambled out of bed, starting to panic. His legs got tangled in the sheets and as he raced to extract himself he ended up toppling to the floor. The resulting thunk roused Peter, who had always been a light sleeper, and the other boy sat up. Catching sight of Remus pulling himself to his feet, he threw a confused and slightly concerned look at him, but Remus just nodded his head towards the source of the labored breathing. Peter's eyes widened as he picked up on it too and came to join Remus in his investigation.
The sounds led them over to Harry's bed where Remus reached out a shaky hand to draw back the hangings. They were met with the frightening sight of Harry, curled up in a ball and almost as pale as the sheet he was laying on, clutching his left arm in a deathgrip. He trembled, his breathing erratic.
The two boys stood over him, frozen in shock. And then Harry let out a blood curdling scream.
Peter couldn't handle it. He could not stand hearing such an awful, broken sound. Without thinking, he jumped forward, grabbed Harry, leaning in to yell, "Harry!" while shaking him awake.
Harry felt someone grab him and the bonds around him disappeared. He heard his name and the voice sounded- panicked? Voldemort never sounded panicked.
Harry wrenched his eyes open.
It was Wormtail- he was back, holding Harry down- his face once again so close that Harry could feel his breath. Harry gave a violent shudder and ripped himself from the rat's grasp, moving as far away from the man as he could possibly get. It turned out to not be that far as Harry's back soon met the corner where the wall met the foot of his bed. He drew his knees up to his chest, covering his still burning arm in a protective huddle.
Harry's screams had awoken the remaining occupants of the dormitory and Sirius and James frantically stumbled over, wands lit and held at the ready. As they took in Harry's cowering form and the other two's rather pale faces, James mustered up the courage to ask, "What happened?"
Remus found his voice first. "I- I don't know. It s-sounded like he couldn't breath, so we came over to s-see what was w-wrong." He cleared his throat. "He was asleep, but looked like he was in pain. And then he s-screamed. And Peter woke him up," he finished.
Peter still stood at the edge of Harry's bed, arms still raised from where Harry had thrown him off. His hands held up as if in surrender.
His hands. Squinting, Harry could make out all ten fingers and no silver glint. Not his Peter. He reminded himself, letting out a very shaky breath. He recognized the voices and other blobs around him now as Remus, James, and Sirius. He was in the past. He was awake. This was real. He had to tell himself carefully. Time travel mixed with cursed dreams was a real mindfuck.
Harry tuned back into the conversation happening around him just in time to hear, "...should probably get Madam Pomfrey."
"I'm okay," a small voice interrupted the other boys' discussion. All heads turned towards Harry. He had managed to get his breathing a little more under control, though his arm still trembled as he reached up to rub at his scar.
"Like hell you are," Sirius hissed.
"Really- it- it was just a nightmare. I'm fine."
"Harry- mate- you're literally shaking. And if we hadn't soundproofed this room years ago half the tower would be barging in here to find out who had been murdered," James said with a sympathetic but kind expression.
Harry's face flushed and he dropped his head onto his knees. "Please. I-I just want to go back to sleep," he said in a slightly desperate, pleading voice.
There must have been some unspoken communication happening around him as there was a long moment of silence before James conceded, "Okay. But if you change your mind at any point, just let us know. Get some sleep." Then he turned and herded the other boys away, back to their own beds.
Harry took a few more deep, calming breaths before leaning forward and closing his bed hangings. He did not want to be stared at all night. And hopefully the others would think he really had gone back to sleep. Instead, he returned to his corner and rubbed angrily at his scar. It still burned and stung and his head was pounding. He brought his aching left arm up for inspection. The old scar from Wormtail's dagger shown bright red and ugly as if it were once again freshly healed and not more than a year old. It was warm to the touch and the feeling almost made Harry hurl.
There was absolutely no way in hell that this would 'look better in the morning'. They probably thought he was deranged now. Ahh, well. It was fun while it lasted, he mourned.
In some far corner of his mind, Harry is thankful that it had not been a dream about Sirius. Harry had woken up many nights with his godfather's name on his lips as he had watched him slip through the veil over and over again. If Harry had not already maxed out the scale for embarrassment, that surely would have done it. Particularly when paired with the fact that they had found him sleeping in Sirius' bed earlier that very same night. Talk about hard to explain. But- hey- maybe this fiasco will overshadow that little incident and everyone can forget about at least one of his fuckups from this evening. Harry really did need to be more careful. And sleep in the correct bed. With a silencing spell.
After sitting awake for hours, Harry finally succumbed once again to the heavy pull of sleep.
There was a tense air in the dormitory the next morning. The boys were all tired after having been up in the middle of the night and each took turns throwing concerned glaces Harry's way. Harry, for his part, did his best to carry on as normal.
He was still up before the rest, despite his lack of sleep. He showered and dressed and crawled back into his corner with a book- apparently his new morning routine. Pyrrhus fluttered down and settled on his shoulder as they waited for the rest of the dorm to come alive.
There was no sitcom to watch that morning as the others readied themselves. Everyone was quiet and the mood subdued. Not even Sirius was cracking jokes or causing chaos. No smile graced his lips as he glanced over at Harry. He noted that the smaller boy looked as though he had not moved from where they left him the night before and if he hadn't been dressed, Sirius would have believed that he had remained there, frozen, all night- knees pulled up protectively in front of his chest, huddled in the corner of his bed. That ruddy little owl was perched on his shoulder again, but even that endearing sight was not enough to lighten Sirius' dour mood.
They passed the day quietly, mostly working on all of the homework that they had pushed off the previous week. The others still included Harry in what they were doing that day, which Harry took as a small victory. They had not completely ostracized him as a result of the previous night's incident(s). Harry just prayed that tomorrow's classes would be enough to distract everyone and lift the oppressive atmosphere.
Come Monday, the dorm was still a little tense, but it was not quite as severe as it had been the day before. Last night, they had all turned in early both out of boredom and in hopes of catching up on their sleep. Harry had checked his silencing spell twice to reassure himself that it was properly in place before allowing himself to lay down and close his eyes.
Sirius was doing his best to shake off the weekend. His attempts, though a little strained, were appreciated.
Harry was still struggling to act normal around Peter. Although he knew, rationally, that this kid was not the same Wormtail from his nightmares, it was very hard to look at him and not see the ghost of the man he would become. Even now, his slightly nervous energy gave off an eerily similar vibe that set Harry's teeth on edge. Harry sat as far away from Peter as he possibly could get away with in Transfiguration that morning without it seeming suspicious.
Luckily, they had short classes on Mondays- no double lessons- so they were all just lectures introducing that week's topics. During their free period before lunch, Harry excused himself to the library again. Though, this time, it was equal parts in pursuit of step 3, subsection A and to get more space from the other boys. Despite their attempts at normalcy, Harry still caught them throwing the occasional concerned- or apprehensive?- glance his way when they thought he was distracted. It was starting to grate on him.
Thankfully, they had Charms after lunch which meant no Peter. Lily also opted to sit next to him in class and provided a nice escape from the general tension of the day. She chattered on about charms and Harry found her voice very soothing. After class, as all of the Gryffindors made their way to Potions together, Harry plucked up the courage to ask her if she would sit next to him in Slughorn's class as well. She agreed easily and he let out a breath of relief.
He only felt a little guilty for using her as a human shield for the afternoon. But he did also genuinely enjoy her company, he internally defended himself. She was smart and witty and much easier to talk to than the other guys. Perhaps there were just fewer expectations and less baggage with her. After all, Harry actually knew Sirius, Remus, and Peter back in his time and people told him constantly how much he was like his dad and he had heard plenty of stories about him from Sirius and Remus. But beyond their shared green eyes and her final pleading breaths, Harry did not actually know much about his mother. But even after knowing her for just a few short days, Harry could understand why his dad had loved her so much.
Harry stuck with Lily and ate dinner on the girl's side of the 6th year's cluster at the Gryffindor table that night, and when he finally emerged from behind his human shield later that evening, he felt revived. The girls had really helped him put things in perspective.
It was Gretta who finally asked him why he was hanging out with them instead of the other boys and Harry had reluctantly told them- briefly- about how awkward it had been with them since his nightmare on Saturday.
"Oh, don't worry Harry. That lot just has the emotional range of a rock. Their brains probably short circuited and just need a little time to reboot," she told him.
"Yeah," Lily chimed in, "they are more doers than talkers, so I'd bet that, when faced with something that they couldn't do anything about- like a nightmare- they just kind of spazzed."
Milli added, "They are also pretty protective and it might have just scarred them a little that they couldn't protect you from whatever happened. I mean, when you were dueling Avery the other day I thought they were gonna come undone watching him throw those curses at you. They don't do well with being idle." She had a thoughtful look on her face, "You know, one time someone bumped into Remus on the stairs and he fell down and hurt his ankle. I honestly thought Sirius was gonna bite the kid when went to offer Remus a hand up. And James' death glare was not much better. Definitely overprotective and not the best with handling their emotions."
Hearing that did actually make him feel a little bit better. He too was known to go a little stir crazy when he wasn't allowed to do anything. And he was all too familiar with that overwhelming surge of protectiveness that could overtake you like a tidal wave, pushing you into action.
So Harry was much more relaxed when he entered the dormroom late that night. His little break and the girls' peptalk had done him a world of good, so it was a genuine smile on his face as he greeted the others and bid them a good night.
In Charms class the next morning, Harry sat comfortably between Lily and Sirius as Professor Flitwick explained how Protean charms could be applied on three dimensional objects as well as two dimensional ones like they had been doing last week. For this lesson, they were all given little figurines on which they were to practice changing their clothes.
When Harry turned to see if Lily wanted to work together, she shoved him towards Sirius with a meaningful look that said get over it.
"Um, Sirius? Would you maybe want to pair up?" Harry asked as he was forced to take a step towards him. A hand came up to self consciously rub the back of his head, messing his hair up even more than usual.
"Sure!" Sirius said brightly and went up to grab them both a figurine. Harry threw a glance over his shoulder and caught Lily's smug expression. Rolling his eyes slightly, he turned back to face Sirius as he made his way back over.
The boys set to work. Harry was able to master the spell pretty quickly since he had, for once, actually been practicing the assigned charm. Sirius kept 'accidentally' spelling the figurine's clothes completely off instead of just changing them. By the end of the lesson, both boys were in fits of suppressed laughter at the various outfits and poses they had charmed their figures into- though a few of Sirius' had just made Harry blush deeply.
As they made their way out to the grounds after lunch for Care of Magical Creatures, Harry basked in the warm rays of the sun on his face. He spied Professor Barlow standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest just a little ways down from Hagrid's cabin with a small group of students already gathered around her. While Harry was a little disappointed that Peter had rejoined them at lunch, he was doing his best to ignore his negative feelings towards the boy and focus on the good things instead. He had actually been enjoying their Care of Magical Creatures classes thus far, the Professor was nice, it was a beautiful and thankfully warm day, and Sirius and James seemed to be completely back to their old smiling, joking selves.
They were some of the last to arrive, having lingered a bit long in the Great Hall after lunch, so the professor was just getting started as they had dropped their bags and joined the group.
Harry tuned in just in time to catch her saying, "Today's lesson will be all about the dividing line and interplay between magical creatures and mundane ones. Our very own Forbidden Forest here is rife with examples of how these two groups not only coexist, but have actually evolved to rely on one another for survival. We will be going on a little walk this afternoon as the practical portion of today's lesson will take place in the woods." Harry saw how the professor's eyes darted over to him for an instant as she said this, but he didn't really understand why. "Everyone will stay close and remain on the path the entire time we are in the forest- am I understood?" Barlow asked in the most stern voice Harry had ever heard from her. They all nodded in response. "Good. In an effort to not waste time, we will have a walking lecture today. Come along."
And with that, she led the way into the forest. Harry was extremely impressed with how Barlow was able to navigate and lead the lecture at the same time. To achieve this, she often found herself turned back towards the class behind her or all together walking backwards, but she never once tripped or even faltered. Harry found himself imagining her as some kind of expedition guide in another life- leading the way up a mountain for some rich pricks paying for the adventure of a lifetime. Or maybe working at a summer camp. That latter seemed to suit her more in Harry's mind.
As they walked, they had a rather interesting discussion about what exactly constituted a 'magical creature' versus a 'mundane' one. The class surprisingly struggled greatly to even properly define the term 'magical creature'. Where was the line? Owls was one species that they discussed in depth. Some argued that they had to be magical- they communicated and bonded with wizards and were so innately integrated into wizarding society that it was usually the first animal a magical child learned to recognize. Others brought up the counter that muggle's and their pet dogs often formed similar bonds and ability to read one another and no one there was about to make the argument that chihuahuas were magical creatures. Heck- muggles were even able to train common pigeons to carry messages, so carrying mail was deemed not innately 'magical' either.
The professor saved them from the futility of their argument by changing gears to discuss symbiosis and the food chain. By the time Barlow's lecture was winding down, they had reached a sizable clearing in the wood. It was large enough for the whole class to stand around it comfortably spread out with a little extra space to spare. She stopped in the middle of it and the class gathered around her.
"In pairs, you will go and find a creature, safely secure it, and bring it back here. Each pair will present their find to the class explaining whether it is magical or mundane, where it lies in the food chain of this forest, and what other animals it relies on and rely on it. If any of your classmates disagree with the presenter's claims or classifications, we will debate them until a consensus is reached. You will have ten minutes to collect your creatures and another ten to prepare your presentations. You are not to go more than fifty meters from the edges of this clearing. If you find yourself in any trouble, send up red sparks from your wand and yell for help. Am I understood?" Her stern tone was back and was greeted by the same quick nods. "Good. Your first ten minutes starts now."
Harry ended up working with James, which he was more than happy about. They picked a random direction and wandered off. Since they did not have very long, they decided to divide and conquer- James looked high, searching for anything on or in the tree while Harry looked low, turning over rocks, kicking up leaves, and peering around gnarled roots for anything that might be moving. Harry was very careful not to actually touch any rocks with his hands, opting instead to carefully flip them over with his shoe-covered foot. Fool me twice… Harry thought wryly.
"Oi- James!" Harry whisper-yelled, going very still all of a sudden. James, having sensed the change in Harry's posture, followed suit, turning around very slowly to face the other boy. Harry jerked his eyes over and James, taking the hint, followed their direction until his gaze landed on a small, fuzzy rabbit standing just a few meters away from them.
"Nice! How do we catch it though?" James whispered back with an appraising look.
"I'm not sure…" Harry admitted.
"Stun it?" James offered.
"No! You could kill it doing that!" Harry sounded horrified and was now glaring daggers at him.
"Jeez-" James said, taking a small step back, "it was just a thought! Trying to brainstorm over here, not make rabbit stew. Calm down."
Luckily the creature seemed to have chosen the 'freeze' option of its instinctual trifecta and had not yet bolted as the boys stood there arguing. Not sure what else to do, Harry crouched down and extended his hand towards the little rabbit, attempting to look as non-threatening as possible.
James just snorted at him, "Really? That's your big plan? Hope it likes specky little gits and is won over by your charming personality?" He rolled his eyes.
Harry didn't even spare him a look, choosing to ignore the playful but rude comments and continued in his attempt to will the rabbit to come over and say hi. The little guy's heaving chest slowly seemed to calm down a bit and his nose began to twitch. Then, much to both boy's disbelief, he took a small hop in their direction. And then another. And another until it was sniffing Harry's outstretching hand. Very cautiously, Harry reached out his other hand and gently scooped the rabbit up and cradled him against his chest. He threw an extremely smug look over at James.
James stood there, mouth slightly agape, staring at them before suddenly snapping it shut. "Well, I'll be damned. He's Snow White and Bambi!"
The daggers were back and piercing James once again. "Say that again and you'll find out just how hard I kick," Harry threatened. "And if you tell that to Sirius, I'll kill you," he finished simply.
It was surreal to experience something so genuinely threatening and simultaneously soul-crushingly adorable all at once. Harry's green eyes burned, almost glowing the shadowy forest and they held nothing but a promise to follow through on his threat, but he also stood there with a bunny clutched to his chest, shoulders slightly pulled in protectively around the bundle of fluff in his arms. James couldn't figure out how to process it all, so he just shrugged his acquiescence and turned to walk back to the clearing.
They rejoined Professor Barlow and a couple other pairs who had already returned with their creatures. Looking around, Harry was quite amused by some of the ways the other groups had 'restrained' their catches. One girl- Shelby he thought her name was- had opted for a similar approach as Harry and was clutching a small, wriggling toad rather tightly in her hands. Another group had actually thought enough to transfigure a cage for their animal while yet another group appeared to have what looked like a lizard on a leash. A few minutes later, Sirius and Peter emerged, but they did not seem to have a creature with them. The last to rejoin the class were a couple of Ravenclaws, one of who was walking very slowly and looked very displeased about having a bowtruckle on top of her head and her partner could barely contain his laughter and he led her forward.
"Your next ten minutes starts now," declared Professor Barlow and the pairs settled in and began discussing their presentations.
Harry and James were engaged in a heated debate over whether weasels eat rabbits when a shout from across the clearing drew everyone's attention.
"Shelby!" A fearful voice screamed, quickly followed by a yelp and a hiss.
~/Ouch! Why you little-/~ A black snake rose out of the grass, readying itself to strike the girl who had just stepped on him.
~/No!/~ Harry shouted, rushing over. ~/It was an accident- she didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?/~
The snake whipped its head around to look appraisingly at Harry, but closing its mouth all the same. ~/No! Not only did she take my prey, but she continued the disrespect and trod on me! I demand recompense!/~ He bared his fangs once again.
Harry's eyes flicked from the snake to the girl, to the now limp toad in her hands, and back to the snake.
"Wha-" Was all Shelby managed to get out past her dry mouth and fear.
~/Wait!/~ Harry begged the snake and then turned to address Shelby. "Um, I think you may have stolen his dinner," Harry said, gesturing at the toad. "I think he already bit it- it looks like it might already be dead… Would you mind, um, giving it back to him?"
Her eyes shot down to the lolling toad in her hands and she dropped it with another shriek.
~/There. She did not mean to steal your, um, prey. Nor step on you. And she is sorry. Are you okay now?/~ Harry asked a little pleadingly.
With a small nod, he hissed, ~/This will do. But keep the imbecile away in the future!/~ Then he slithered over, snapped up the toad in his jaws, and disappeared away back into the forest.
Harry let out a relieved sigh that the snake had accepted the peace offering, well, peacefully. He looked back to Shelby, who still stood frozen to the spot, shaking slightly. "Are you okay?" He asked her gently.
But she did not respond. She continued to stare at him with a horrified expression. It was then that Harry realized the tense atmosphere that blanketed the entire clearing. Nobody moved. Even the wind seemed to have stopped rustling the trees as it felt as though everybody was holding their breath. Glancing around, Harry was met with more unpleasant expressions ranging from shock to disgust to outright terror. Peter looked ready to piss himself.
Oh fuck, was all Harry could think. And there went all hope of him ever being just another normal student. Not that the randomly showing up with amnesia bit really qualified him as 'normal', but even despite that, he had really been feeling just part of the crowd during his time here so far. And now he had to go and bungle it all up by talking to a damn snake in front of his whole damn class.
He couldn't take it. Not again. Not here. Not now. Harry did the only thing he could think of in that moment- he ran. The little rabbit tumbled out of his arms as he turned and sprinted away from the class and all of their cruel, condemning eyes. He was so busy fighting back his own tears that he never heard James and Professor Barlow calling his name as he fled.
By the time Harry reached the castle, he was no longer upset- he was pissed. It was like second year all over again. He must be a bloody Death Eater- he can talk to snakes! There goes the next Dark Lord in the making! This is what he gets for not letting that snake bite her- excommunicated. He should have just let it nip her. The adder's venom was not deadly, just painful. She would have survived. But even as the bitter thought entered his mind, Harry knew he wouldn't have changed what he did, even if it had occurred to him in the moment. He couldn't let someone suffer just so that he could save face.
He wasn't even really sure where he was going. His only thought was away! Away from people. Away from judging, frightened eyes and reproachful looks. Away from his problems. By the time he was able to pull himself out of his pitiful thoughts, Harry had no idea where he actually was. He was pretty sure he had never been in this part of the castle before which was slightly surprising given his many nighttime wanderings.
Having decided that he had hidden long enough and successfully walked off most of his anger, Harry began to contemplate just how to get back to the main part of the school when he was suddenly tripping and flung forwards by a strong force slamming into his back. He didn't even have time to put his hands up to break his fall before he slammed into the hard, stone floor face first. He felt his nose crunch and his glasses give way as his head bounced off the floor. A bit dazed, it took Harry a moment to push himself up and begin to wonder- what just happened?
Then, he heard footsteps and a snide voice behind him say, "Well, well, well, Potter. Not so brave without your backup now, are you? A bit pathetic, really."
Harry knew that voice. It sent a shiver down his spine and caused cold dread to pool in his stomach. Why was Snape cursing him? Teaches really weren't supposed to bodily attack students, no matter how much they hate them. If the past five years had proven anything, it was that even Severus Snape valued his job enough to not cross certain lines… Wait. Not his Snape! And he wasn't Potter here… The sluggishness of his thoughts would have been concerning if Harry were with it enough to notice.
"I 'ot 'otter" Harry said, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Snape was looming over him now, sneering down at his back, "Disgusting." Harry could picture him curling his lip as he spoke. "Flipendo," he said lazily and Harry was knocked forward, smacking his abused face hard into the floor once again. "Really, Potter? You're not even going to try to put up a fight? Pity. That really makes this less fun."
Pushing himself up once again, Harry rolled over and locked eyes with Snape. "I 'ot 'otter" he said more forcefully, though no more articulately. He saw Snape's eyes widen just a fraction of a centimeter as he realized that the person laying on the ground- the person he had attacked- was indeed not James Potter. Looking down into the slightly unfocused green eyes, Severus felt like he had been hit in the gut as, for an instant, he saw the same flash of betrayal that he had caused in Lily's eyes the day he had lost her forever.
Groping for a justification, Snape spat, "You are still Gryffindor scum and a blasted Potter groopie." Then he turned on his heel and walked away rather briskly.
This left Harry still half laying on the ground with a steadily growing pool of blood collecting underneath him. He sat there a moment, a little unsure of what to do. His brain was still not firing on all cylinders and it took him a minute to realize that the reason he could only see out of one eye was because his glasses were bent. Deciding to start there, he took them off, fished out his wand (which for some reason it had not occurred to him to draw until now), and said "Re'aro." Luckily the slightly butchered mending charm still worked.
"Harry?" An airy voice drifted into his ears. "Are you okay?" It was quite pleasant to listen to. Like the wind was talking to him. A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped. Since when did the wind have hands? Harry put his glasses back on in an effort to find out the answer to that question.
It turns out, it wasn't the wind that was talking to him- it was a girl. She had long blond hair that swept around her as if she had brought her own breeze and large, silvery eyes that looked like pocket-sized moons. "Luna," he whispered with a relieved smile.
"That is a very pretty name. Though most people call me Pandora. Or Dora. Or Pandy. And some people call me 'Space Cadet'," she smiled a little wistfully down at him. "I'm sorry I'm not your Luna. But I could be your friend."
Harry just nodded dumbly.
"Well, friend, why don't we go on a little adventure together. I have another friend I think you should see. She's very nice and helpful." She offered him a pale hand. See, the wind does have hands! He hesitantly took it and she helped him to his unsteady feet. "We can all use a little help sometimes," she reassured him as he gained his balance. She guided him gently through the halls and Harry let her soft voice float over him. "You know, I thought I was lost when I found you. But once you are found, you can't be lost anymore. Funny how things work out?" Harry just hummed in agreement, eyes closed, as the wind swept him forwards.
"Madam Pomfrey," she sang into an echoey space. Harry swayed with the reverberations.
"Yes dear," a bird chirped in response.
"I have a friend here who I think could use some of your help," she guided him over to sit on a cloud.
"Oh, Harry. What happened?" The bird clucked.
"I found him sitting alone in a hallway, staring at the wall. He looked rather deep in thought, so I did not want to interrupt, but there was quite a lot of blood…" She took her hand off of his shoulder and he could feel her drifting away. Harry reached out to grab the wind's hand once again.
"'Lease stay." He leaned into her touch. She was a warm breeze that helped stave off the cold loneliness. "I lost 'y frien's, don' wanna be 'lone."
"You know, Harry, the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect. Plus, you have two friends right here- we already found you. And remember, you can't be lost if you are found." She sat down on the bed next to him, holding his hand as Madam Pomfrey did her work.
A little while later, a now sleeping Harry was tucked into bed.
"Thank you for staying, Ms. Rada. That was very kind of you. And thank you for finding him and bringing him in. I dare say, with the state he was in, he likely would have just wandered the corridors until someone found him or he fell down the stairs." She shook her head sadly.
"Oh, I love to find new friends. And he actually helped me get unlost." She smiled dreamily.
"I need to notify the headmaster and his Head of House. Would you be able to show us where you found him?"
"I think so. And if not, I can always just turn around and lose myself again." Madam Pomfrey did not look reassured by this statement, but proceeded to her office to contact Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall anyway.
James was panicking. Once his brain had processed what his eyes had just witnessed and his ears had just heard, he was desperately calling after Harry's fleeing form. Seeing that the boy was not going to stop despite his and the professor's cries, James took off after him. Sirius and Peter hesitated only long enough to share a glance before following.
The other two only managed to catch up with James as he reached the castle doors. Sirius yelled, "James! Stop!" He paused to take a heaving breath. "James, where exactly are you going?"
"We need to find him!" He said, sounding panicky.
"And do what?" Sirius pressed.
"I- I don't know. But we need to find him!" James insisted, tugging the door open and running through the entrance hall and up the stairs. Sirius and Peter were forced to follow once more. He ran all the way up to Gryffindor tower, frantically checking both the common room and their dorm room for any sign of Harry. When he found none there, James rushed back out and led them to the library. When again there was no trace of Harry, he was at a bit of a loss- where else would the new boy go? With no good answers coming to mind, James just started to pick seemingly random corridors to jog down, his head sweeping back and forth as if he would find Harry just leaning against one of the walls.
Peter and Sirius were at his back the whole time having a silent conversation about what to do. James was starting to scare them with his slightly manic search. Sirius had tried talking rationally to him, which did not work. Peter had tried physically sitting him down which he just shook off. They were weighing the possibility of stunning him just so that he would calm down when they ran into Remus. James, whose head had been turned completely to the side and therefore had not been looking where he was going at all, literally walked right into the other boy who thankfully was able to steady them both before they toppled to the ground from the collision.
"Whoa! James- watch where you are going." He said in a mockingly harsh tone.
"Wha-? Oh, sorry Moon. Have you seen Harry?" James didn't even look at his friend, instead he was craning his neck to look past the other boy's shoulder.
"Harry?" He sounded confused. "No. Why would I have? Didn't you three just have class with him?" Remus' eyes then swept from the distracted James and back to the very concerned looking Sirius and Peter behind him. The smile fell off his face. "What happened?"
"Harry ran off and we need to find him," James said emphatically.
Remus looked back to the other two hoping for a better explanation.
"Harry's a bloody Parselmouth," Sirius bit out. "Exposed himself in front of the whole class and then bolted."
"What?" Remus growled. He did not care for Sirius' tone.
"A Parselmouth! He can talk to bloody snakes!" Sirius all but yelled.
Remus just raised a cold eyebrow at him. "And?"
"And?! And it's a dark ability Remus- everybody knows that. Parselmouths are evil."
Remus crossed his arms and after a brief glance around to make sure no one was eavesdropping he hissed, "You know, a lot of people would say the same thing about werewolves."
Sirius' face fell and his expression turned pleading, "Rem- you know I didn't mean it that way. I would never-" he faltered, grasping for a way to explain. "Snakes are used in the worst kinds of dark magic. Parselmouths might as well be classified as Dark Creatures by association."
Remus's eyes narrowed to slits, "Werewolves are classified as Dark Creatures! You've never even met a Parselmouth before! What gives you the right to play judge, jury, and executioner?"
"Oh, it's not just me. You should have seen the looks on everyone's face when he started hissing," Sirius shuddered.
"And if I transformed on the Astronomy tower one night during class, how do you think people would react?"
"You-Know-Who is a Parselmouth," Sirius stated confidently, as if he had just played the ultimate trump card.
Remus just rolled his eyes, "He is also a wizard and right handed and enjoys long walks on the beach. Does that make everyone else who shares those traits evil?"
Sirius just stared at him, completely at a loss for how to respond to that, but unwilling to yield any ground.
Remus let out a huff, grabbed James's arm and spun on his heel. "Come on James, let's go find Harry." And they left the other two standing dumbly in the middle of the corridor.
Once they were a few hallways away, Remus paused to ask, "So where do we still need to look?"
"I'm actually not really sure where else to look," James admitted. The fight between Sirius and Remus had given his brain enough of a shock and time to reboot a little and now he was able to think a little more clearly. "I mean, it's not like he's really been here long enough to even know any good hiding places." He paused to think before continuing, "I know I'm almost never one to say this, but maybe we should tell McGonagall?"
Remus was a bit taken aback by the suggestion, but knew his friend must have been very serious to say such a thing. He could count on one hand the number of times James had voluntarily gone to their Head of House about something. Once was to ask about animagus transformations. Another was when Peter had been so sick he could not get out of bed. The third was when a prank had gone very wrong and an unknown potion had rendered Sirius unconscious. And the last was when Severus had said something unspeakable to Lily. James clearly believed whatever had happened that afternoon to be on the same level as those incidents.
"Okay," Remus cautiously agreed.
Seeing his friend's slight hesitation, James went on, "Remus- you should have seen his face when he realized what had happened. I mean- the kid probably didn't even remember he was a Parselmouth! And he saved Shebly's life! The snake was going to bite her and he stopped it and the whole class was looking at his like he had attempted murder in broad daylight! And he just looked so- so- devastated. And betrayed. And he was holding this rabbit and looked like he was going to cry and- and-" he ran out of breath in his rush to explain and convey just how bad it was. "And then he just ran off into the forest." James' face fell at that. "Shit. I- I just assumed that he had made it back to the castle. Remus- what if he got lost in the forest? Again?!" He was falling back into his panic again.
Remus reached out a steadying hand and grasped his shoulder. "James- it's okay. We'll go tell McGonagall right now and they will find him. He will be okay." James just gave a small nod, still looking frightened.
Remus kept a hand on his friend's arm as he led them both to Professor McGonagall's office. As they arrived, Remus reached out a fist to knock, but James apparently lacked the patience for such niceties at that moment and pushed open the door.
At first, they thought she was not in the office, but then McGonagall rose from where she had been crouched down apparently using the floo. Her face held a grim expression as she turned to face them.
In a very clipped voice she asked, "What do you need?"
James stuttered out, "Um- uh- Harry is missing."
The professor closed her eyes for a moment before seeming to gather herself to respond, "No, he is not. Mr. Doe was just brought to the hospital wing. It appears he was attacked. You two wouldn't happen to know anything about such an incident, would you?"
Both boys went pale at her words. Attacked?
"No, ma'am," James said softly.
She let out a sigh at this, shaking her head. "He hasn't even been here two weeks- why someone would do such a thing…" She trailed off in bleak wonderment. "You would not happen to have any ideas as to who or why someone may wanted to attack Mr. Doe, would you?"
"He's a Parselmouth," James all but whispered.
McGonagall looked rather taken aback. "I beg your pardon."
With a little more confidence, James restated, "He's a Parselmouth. Um, in Care of Magical Creatures class this afternoon this snake tried to bite someone and he stopped it, but then everyone kind of freaked out that he was a Parselmouth and then he kind of freaked out and ran. That's why I was looking for him," he finished a little lamely.
"I see," McGonagall said, regaining her composure quickly. "I must go to the hospital wing. Would you two like to accompany me as well?" It was not that she wanted to bring them along, but six years with these boys had taught her that in some cases, resistance was futile. Now that they knew their friend was in the hospital wing, they would be making their way there with or without her consent, so she might as well keep an eye on them and minimize the amount of rule breaking that would have ensued. The boys just nodded at her. She spared a brief moment to wonder where the other half of their quartet was before leading the way out of the office.
There was a very odd mix of people in the hospital wing that afternoon. The Headmaster had arrived promptly after receiving Poppy's notification that their newest student had been rather brutally attacked. On his way down to the infirmary he had run into Professor Barlow who rushed to explain what had happened in her class. He both calmed her down and sent her panicking when he informed her that Harry had been located but was in the infirmary. She joined him the rest of the way and now stood next to Harry's bed, looking sadly down at his small, resting form. Pandora was still sitting on Harry's other side, holding his hand lightly. When McGonagall, James, and Remus arrived, they swiftly joined the group gathered around Harry's bed.
Having seen the last few enter, Pomfrey came over to complete the group. "Thank you all for coming so quickly," she said in greeting, throwing a slightly confused look at the extra professor and couple of students who she had most certainly not summoned. But seeing as how each had arrived with a summoned party, she assumed that they were allowed to hear this discussion. "About a half hour ago, Ms. Rada found Harry sitting, injured, in one of the corridors. She brought him here, but due to a severe concussion, he was not very coherent." They all looked down at Harry, taking in the deep bruising still prominent on his sleeping face. "The only thing I could make out that he said was something about having lost his friends." James and Remus winced at that. "Even when he regains consciousness, I am not sure how much he will actually remember given all of the recent trauma and his ongoing memory issues. I just want you all to set your expectations appropriately," she finished with a stern, protective look. The professors all nodded in acknowledgement. James and Remus just wore twin looks full of concern and apprehension.
"Very well. Ms. Rada here said she could lead you to where she found Harry if you would like, professors." After a couple more nods, the small group set out.
It turned out that they did not really need Pandora's guidance to find the scene of the crime. Harry had left a bloodtrail all the way to the infirmary. The scene itself also did not tell them very much about what had occurred there besides that Harry had hit his head rather hard and lost a surprising amount of blood. There was a large enough pool of it on the ground that it had not yet dried by the time the professors had arrived. There were no footprints or scuff marks or any other signs of an altercation of any sort. Once the blood was vanished, there was absolutely no indication that anyone had been in the corridor within the past year. They cleaned up the trail on their way back to the infirmary.
The first thing Harry was aware of was that he was laying on a cloud. It was soft and warm and comfortable. The next was that someone was holding his hand- it was also soft and warm and rather comforting.
Then a shrill voice ripped through his cloud and brought Harry crashing back down to earth, rather painfully. It shrieked- "I had a right to be worried- look what happened!"
Harry let out a pitiful groan and rolled over, burying his head beneath the pillow he had been laying on.
"Oh shit- sorry mate," the voice said, much more quietly. Harry heard a shuffling of feet and a few exchanged whispers, but nothing worth unburrowing himself to investigate. He rather liked his squishy new cave.
"Come on Harry," a new, soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Either you come out or I make you- and one of those options is going to be a lot less pleasant than the other."
Reluctantly, Harry dragged himself back over, but he kept the pillow clutched tightly to his face. Instinctively, he knew that its soft darkness was much better than anything that might lay beyond it.
"None of that, young man. Come on now, the sooner you sit up and let me have a look at you, the sooner I can give you something for that headache I'm sure you have."
Now that she mentioned it, he did have a headache. A rather nasty one. Why did she have to mention it? He felt fingers prying his away from the pillow they were sunk into and he let out another small groan in protest. But his weak grip was no match for the steel claws it was fighting against and the pillow was forcibly removed. He hissed, clenching his eyes shut and made to roll over again, only for his shoulder to be caught in that same iron grip and forced back down flat on the bed. Harry forced his eyes open into slits just so he could glare at the source of the unyielding grip.
Madam Pomfrey smiled down at him, ignoring the heated look. "It's good to see you awake Harry. I didn't expect you to be up so soon," she said happily.
"Don' wanna be," he mumbled tiredly. At that moment, the hospital wing doors swung open, readmitting the Headmaster and Professors and Pandora. Taking quick advantage of the matron's distraction, Harry slipped out of her momentarily slackened grasp and rolled back over into a ball, pulling the covers up over his head.
"Ahh, he's awake," the Headmaster said.
"Barely," Pomfrey huffed before returning to her attempts at coaxing the reluctant and half asleep teen out from his new found cave. "Honestly, less than two weeks and he has already become one of my most difficult long-running patients!" She said, exasperated as Harry's grip had only tightened on the sheet as she attempted to pull it back.
"Harry," another voice brushed past his ears. "Your friend here is only trying to help you. You shouldn't push away your friends."
Well, that was true. Though it seemed to be a lesson Harry had to learn over and over again and it still hadn't quite sunk in. All the same, his grip loosened enough so that Pomfrey could draw the covers back to where they should be. Harry, still curled up on his side, blinked sluggishly at the girl sitting next to him. After a long moment, he recognized her- it was the wind! No, that was not right. It was Not-Luna. No, she was… something about adventure? Some kind of explorer? That didn't seem right… No- it was! Dora! Her name was Panda-Dora! Wait- what? That's not a name. Pandora! That's a real name. And it was hers. He was almost sure of it. Kind of. Harry smiled at her. He knew she was nice, even if her name was not real.
"'Ello," he mumbled to the girl beside him.
"Hello again," she said, returning his smile with a brilliant one of her own.
"Finally," Pomfrey sniffed, leaning down to take a look at Harry. She decided it was not worth the fight to make him straighten out just yet. She could at least see his face properly like this, so she would take advantage of the small victory while she had it. "Harry, I need you to look at my wand tip and follow it with your eyes, okay?" He did not make any response, but did as she asked when she lit the tip of her wand and moved it around. "Very good. Thank you. Do you think you can sit up for me? I know the Headmaster would like to speak with you if you are up for it."
Very slowly, Harry set about uncurling himself and, with Pomfrey's help, he found himself upright soon enough. Once he was vertical, Harry was stuck by a wave of nausea that caused him to blanch. A hand shot to his mouth as he fought with everything he had not to vomit. Seeing this, Madam Pomfrey summoned a basin and asked, "Are you going to be sick? It's okay," she tried to soothe him. Harry gave a half shake of his head in response, but continued to sit there with his eyes screwed shut, hand clamped to his mouth for another full minute before he began to relax a little bit.
When he finally lowered his hand and blinked open his eyes, he was shocked by the number of blurry figures crowded around his bed. A flush crept into his cheeks as he realized that they had likely been there the whole time. Thankfully, the nice girl slid Harry's glasses onto his face for him. As he blinked, the figures slid frustratingly in and out of focus. Pomfrey had mentioned the Headmaster, who was indeed there, but beside him were Professors McGonagall and Barlow and then James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter were all there as well.
"What happened?" Was all he could think to ask. What would summon all of these people to be crowded around his bed? Wait- not his bed, his hospital bed. Oh. He must have gotten hurt somehow. Or maybe he was sick? But that wouldn't really explain why they were all here if he was just a little sick.
"Well, Mr. Doe, it appears as if you were attacked this afternoon after leaving your Care of Magical Creatures class. What do you remember?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry had to take a moment to really think- what did he remember? Hmm… "Uh, I think we went into the Forbidden Forest?" He said, looking over to Professor Barlow for confirmation and she gave him an encouraging nod. "And we found a rabbit- he was really soft…" Harry trailed off and after a moment it became clear he was not going to continue.
"Do you remember anything about a snake?" Dumbledore prompted.
Harry paled rapidly once again. Shit. He had outed himself as a Parselmouth, hadn't he? Damn it.
"I want to assure you, Mr. Doe, that being a Parselmouth is not a problem. Though the wizarding world at large might be a bit wary of one with such a unique ability, we here at Hogwarts do not hold any prejudices and will not condone any untoward behavior from those who do. While it is a very serious matter whenever any student is attacked, I want you to know that I will not stand for hate crimes in this castle, Mr. Doe. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the perpetrator is apprehended and punished accordingly." Harry just looked at him with big, owlish eyes. Hate crimes? What- Oh. They thought someone had attacked him because he was a Parselmouth. Had they? For some reason, that didn't sound right.
Feeling he should say something in response to such a passionate and thoughtful speech, Harry said, "Uh- thank you sir. But I really don't remember what happened. Isn't it possible I just fell or something?"
"Harry, one does not simply get the level of concussion you had from falling over in the corridor. You would have had to have fallen out of a second story window or down a flight of stairs in order for a simple fall to have been a possible explanation for your injuries," Pomfrey explained sadly.
"Oh," was all he could say to that.
"Well, we will continue our investigation, but if you do remember any more, please notify either myself or Professor McGonagall. I hope you are feeling better soon, Mr. Doe." And with that and a small smile, the Headmaster rose and exited the hospital wing.
"Do not worry about your class work," Professor McGonagall added. "For now, just focus on resting and healing. Please let me know if you need anything."
Professor Barlow added, "That goes for me too. I know I am not your Head of House or anything, but I want you to know that you can come to me if you ever need help. I am sorry this happened to you. I hope to see you back in class soon." Both professors bid them goodbye and left.
"Black, Pettigrew, Lupin, Potter- you four may visit until dinner, but then you must let Harry rest. And if he gets tired before then, you will leave him be- am I understood?" Pomfrey said in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
All four boys agreed sheepishly to the matron's stern instructions as she moved away to let them talk, but Harry was not really listening. Potter. The name rattled around in his head. Why did that name sound so familiar? He knew, of course, that it was his name- but not here. And that here it was James' name. But that was not it… It was like having an itch that he just couldn't reach. That just so happened to be inside of his brain. Potter… Potter? 'Potter!' That was it- he could hear it in the back of his mind in his Potions Professor's cruel voice. Only it was younger and more of a sneer wrapped in a lazy drawl.
Harry's eyes snapped to James and only then did he realize that someone had been trying to talk to him. "Um- What?" He said, trying to catch back up out in the real world.
"Merlin- maybe you should go grab Pomfrey, Remus. He's really out of it," James said concernedly.
"No- I'm fine," Harry cut in, blinked hard to get his eyes to focus again. "It was just- something she said- I remember. They were wrong. James- it was you."
"Me?" He said, astonished. "You think I attacked you?" He asked somewhere between hurt and afraid.
"No!" Harry said quickly, a little horrified that it had come out that way. He took another long blink, holding his eyes closed for an extra moment while trying to wrestle his sluggish brain into cooperating. This was important. "He- he kept calling me 'Potter'," Harry clarified, looking James right in the eye. "He thought I was you."
"What?!" James gasped, his stomach turning at the idea that he had somehow played a role in Harry ending up here. "How? Who?" He pressed.
"It was Snape. James- you have to be careful. I don't want him to hurt you!" Harry pleaded. "I think he came up behind me, so he must have assumed, based on the hair, that it was you. He must have been far away too when he cursed me, so he couldn't tell how short I was," Harry said distractedly, rehashing it out for himself. "By the time he was there, I was on the ground, but my back was still to him. It was only when I managed to turn around and- and he must have seen my eyes! And finally realized that I wasn't you. He left pretty quickly once he realized…" At this point Harry seemed to once again remember he had company. "James- you have to be careful. I'm not sure he would have stopped if it really had been you." Concern shown bright in Harry's unfocused eyes.
"Okay, Harry, okay. Calm down. I'll be careful- I promise." Though his concern really was not for himself at that moment. "We need to tell McGonagall," James added, turning to the others.
"No," Harry said firmly.
"What?" James choked. "Harry- he could have killed you. The spineless git cursed you with your back turned."
"No," he said again. "Him and his friends do not need any more of a reason to hate us. Turning him in would not solve anything and would actually probably make things worse." Harry was adamant.
"But what about Dumbledore's witch hunt?" Sirius interjected.
"What about it? I see no reason to stop him from taking a stand against prejudice," Harry said with a shrug. "With any luck, he might actually find some witches. Prejudice witches, I mean. Or wizards- prejudice wizards too."
They all looked down at him, not really sure what to do with that statement. Remus was the first to speak, "Well, I guess he has a point…"
"Hey-" Harry said all of sudden, "you guys are here!" His eyes lit up.
"Yes Harry- we are," James said slowly.
"Does that mean that you don't hate me?" Harry's voice shown with heartbreaking hope.
It was now Sirius and Peter's turn to look rather uncomfortable. "Of course we don't hate you, Harry. Why would we?"
"That's nice of you. I think most people do… Most people don't like snake-people," he said with a sad sigh. "They're evil," he whispered darkly. "It's not really like I can help it, you know? I'm pretty sure I was just- born that way." He shrugged. "And believe me- I would give it up if I could," he said emphatically, "just to never have somebody look at me like that ever again."
"I know Harry," Remus said, reaching over and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I know."