See the end for Author's Notes.
Chapter Sixteen
With his new interaction with fifth years thanks to Cedric and Alec MacFusty Harry was forming contacts with the other houses at a prodigious rate. Alec, as it turned out (who had insisted that Harry call him Alec to the point Harry had simply given in), was friends with a number of ravenclaw upper years who he was in a study group with for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Harry got himself an invitation to join them on Thursdays during his free period (he had double potions during their Monday sessions and practice with Helena Saturday mornings). The group was comprised of the other three houses and Harry immediately noted Percival Weasley's presence next to a ravenclaw girl who was the first to introduce herself to him. "Penelope Clearwater," she said with an affable smile. "Alec says you're a person of many talents. Glad to have another sharp mind to join us."
Her dark hair was the same burnt oak as Helena's but was pencil straight in comparison with bangs cut low over her eyes which were a muddy brown. It was a hairstyle he saw on many of the girls in the upper forms of ravenclaw actually. (He wondered distantly if it had some significance or was it just a habit of girls to copy one another's hairstyles...?) "Harry Potter," he introduced himself, one of the rare times he had used his step-father's last name.
Clearwater was a half-blood wizarding family, but they were in good standing politically-- a Carol Clearwater was a noteworthy historian concerning the ministry and there was a Roger Clearwater who worked within the Daily Prophet as an editor. Carol was too old to be Penelope's parent, but the editor was of a comparable age to maybe be an older brother or an uncle or cousin.
But all of this was unimportant. The point Harry was trying to make was that they were active politically and would expect him to claim the Potter family name since he was declared Heir Apparent. (On a side note, getting declared Heir Apparent was remarkably easy and had been done without his notice since he was the only living Potter scion. The proper papers had been filed when he went to Gringotts with Hagrid the summer before first year.)
"That's Percy Weasley over there, " she waved to where Percival Weasley was frowning at him in the corner. "The blonde is Emilia Dawlish, next to her is Mason Clark and Isaac Ollerton. Don't ask him about the Cleansweeps, he hates flying."
Harry had no idea why he would ask him about a broom, but figured it was something he was simply 'supposed to know' and left it at that. He didn't think the bloke was on the ravenclaw quidditch team, but then again Harry didn't know most of the people on the quidditch teams. Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood he knew for obvious reasons (being that the two were the craziest about the sport and had gotten into fist fights several times about a game or training). He knew the Weasley twins were beaters because they often goaded on the fights between Wood and Flint. He knew his own house's team because Nott was obsessed and had gained the keeper position as Draco had expected and constantly went through their roster. He knew Cedric because who wouldn't notice the fit bloke that won his team the game? Harry had only gone to maybe three games since coming to Hogwarts and two of them had been this year to support Nott.
"You still in there Harry?"
Harry blinked and smiled at Alec. "Yeah. Got lost in thought."
The taller boy grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "If I dinnae know better I'd swear you're related to the Lovegoods. Come on and grab a seat. We're studying occamys at the moment."
Harry didn't recognize the family name Lovegoods (or Ollerton or Dawlish) but they sounded particularly wizardly, if that made any sense. Wizarding names tended to be a bit odder than simple 'Potter'. Which was another reason to despise his step-father. He was sure Voldemort's family name wasn't something so plebian. And he couldn't have claimed the Slytherin name (for whatever reason) because Harry was sure there would have been a record of him within some history text. One didn't just ignore a founder's descendant. He might have carried Gaunt, they were said to be the last offshoots of the Slytherin line in recent history but what little information Harry had found on them left much to be desired. No decent Dark Lord could have possibly grown up in Little Hangleton. No, his father's last name was something dark and mysterious. A name that made one glance twice at its wielder. A name like...
"There you go again off in your own thoughts."
Harry glanced up and blushed at the fact that everyone was staring at him in differing levels of amusement. "My apologies," he mumbled before accepting the seat Alec gestured to.
"No, it's cute," Miss Clearwater assured him.
Harry was pleased he was able to limit his facial expression to only show a small downturn of the lips rather than a full blown scowl. "He's pouting, how adorable," the other girl-- Emilia Dawlish, Harry reminded himself-- smiled.
She reached forward to run a hand through his hair making his scowl deepen. "Hands off, Emi," Alec said, his voice uncommonly serious. "Harry's not a toy. Leave him be."
Dawlish must have understood something Harry didn't from those words because she immediately pulled her hand back, shooting an apologetic glance to Alec. "Yeah, alright. I didn't mean anything by it."
Harry shot a questioning glance at the boy who had invited him but the amber gaze that met his was sparkling with mirth. He winked before turning his attention to the group as a whole. "What was the consensus about the possibility of acromantulas within the forbidden forest?"
Harry perked up at this topic change. Being a second year the closest he normally got to the forbidden forest was going to quidditch games as the pitch was north of the castle. However the fact that the lower years never ventured near the forest didn't quiet any of the stories (mostly fictional, surely) that passed amongst them. The mystery of the place was one of the few about the school that was readily available to be explored and yet forbidden. Students were allowed to explore the castle at will for the most part (excluding the out of bound corridor last year and the chaperone restrictions of this year thanks to the petrifications) which meant with enough time and dedication Harry could discover every secret held within the magical castle. The grounds themselves were hilly and mostly nothing to look at. There was a whomping willow on the grounds and that was a bit interesting but Harry had quickly found the notch on its trunk that would temporarily paralyze its movements to allow one to pick the herbs that grew at its base so hadn't bothered with it much after discovering that. And the giant squid within the black lake made any underwater exploration a death wish. (Alternatively the mermaids liked to occasionally swim up to the charmed glass windows located in the Slytherins common room and startle the first years. They didn't seem to like humans all that much...) "Harry?"
Harry blinked in the sudden realization he had gotten lost in thought. Again! The group as a whole was smiling indulgently at him (except Weasley but Harry thought he had earned the frown the older boy directed at him). "The Care of Magical Creatures course is taught in the forest?" he asked, ignoring whatever teenager thing they were doing now.
He wasn't sure what it was that made teenagers so weird. Queenie and the other third and fourth year girls actually cooed at him last year. And Helena was practically a new species she was so odd. He didn't think a year should make such a different but he supposed he would see when he turned thirteen. Alec grinned as if he knew exactly what was going in Harry's head (which wasn't outside the realm of possibility, but Harry was a fairly competent occlumens and would notice someone even skimming his surface thoughts). Just to be sure, Harry cleared his mind of any non-academic topics and focused on the sixth years around him.
As it turned out the Care of Magical Creatures classes were taught in a small clearing just past the tree line of the forest closest to the greenhouses. During the day, Isaac Ollerton explained ("Just call me Isaac, please. No seriously. Don't call me Ollerton-- I won't answer you."), the forbidden forest looked no different from any other wooded area found on the island. Harry felt a little let down about this but the topic of the lessons quickly went to the type of creatures rumored to live in the forest. Redcaps, werewolves, acromantulas, centaurs, and thestrals were among the more interesting inhabitants. "What are thestrals?" Harry asked eagerly.
The group had on-going discussion during their study times and someone was often expounding on a topic broached several minutes ago. Another person would join the discussion and the initial person, having gotten the information they needed returned to studying while the other two continued on sometimes changing topics. The entire process was rather fascinating to Harry and he saw in truth the difference between the houses in how easily the Ravenclaws continued this method of studying for the next two hours. Ollerton and Clearwater were often carrying the discussion but Weasley got involved to add mention of the thestrals which sparked Harry's interest. The redhead's mouth turned down ever so slightly but he had seemed to be content with letting things be with his distaste for Harry so he graciously answered the question. "Thestrals are a breed of winged horse similar to abraxans," he explained.
"Except they're skeletal with leathery wings. And they're invisible to most people," Dawlish continued on when Weasley returned to his essay without any further explanation.
Harry's eyes widened in implication. Thestrals were invisible! 'I wonder if these are the creatures that are going around petrifying people?' Perhaps it was the voice of an invisible flying horse that he heard whenever someone was petrified. How had his father managed to control invisible flying horses? "Are they especially dangerous?"
"No," Alec's voice cut in before anyone else could offer their input. When Harry turned to him he looked a tad grim around the face. "They are considered ill omens to the ignorant masses. Thestrals are gentle creatures."
Dawlish rolled her eyes. "You say the same thing about your dragons, Alec. You're hardly one to judge."
"And yet out of all the species incarcerated after the statute went into effect it is my dragons that have not received a single citation. None of these government-staffed reserves can claim as such, not even the chinese who have a mountain range the size of our country to hide their dragons away from the 'oh-so-delicate' muggles."
Harry blinked in surprise at the acidity that creeped in along the edges of Alec's voice. He had never heard the auburn-haired boy so much as show disdain or genuine disapproval. Alec was always light-hearted and easy-going as long as Harry had known him which admittedly wasn't very long at all. But even Queenie said so when he had asked and her information network was as reputable as Blaise's if not on the same scale as the italian.
The tension that Harry seemed to feel was localised to himself, it seemed. None of the other occupants looked worse for wear and Ollerton-- Isaac-- looked amused at the change in tone. Harry's gaze flitted to Weasley and happened to catch his gaze. He must have looked particularly awful because Percival spoke up then. "Alec you're scaring Potter. We are more than aware of your feelings as to the Ministry's treatment of magical creatures but he is not. Lay off, will you?"
Like a lumos charm from a particularly friendly wand Alec's face lightened and his fire-colored eyes strayed to Harry with a sheepish grin. "Sorry laddie," he apologized.
Harry shrugged-- a horrible habit that Queenie and Draco had been trying to break him of. Instead of worrying too overtly about the combined ire of the influential heirs, he focused on instead changing topics. "If students aren't allowed to enter the forest how come they have classes there? It seems pretty dangerous, even with an attending staff member. You guys were speculating werewolves live in the foliage and even Aurors go against them in teams of three."
(Harry thought that the Ministry's aggressive stand against werewolves and the fact that they are regulated to second class citizens has a lot to do with the animosity between the two groups but it would just have to be something else he had his father change when he took over wizarding britain.)
The rest of the study session went well enough with no more unusual shows of negative emotions on Alec's part. Weasley was even kind enough to escort Harry to Transfiguration as it was on the same floor as his Arithmancy classes. "You're remarkably knowledgeable about fauna and flora for a second year."
Harry frowned. "What does my academic year have anything to do with my herbology knowledge?"
"Neither venomous tentacula or knotgrass are taught until sixth year, aconite is fifth year curriculum."
Harry chuckled at the man's observation. When he received a questioning glance from the redhead he expanded. "It's funny you would mention that because Snape asked about aconite at the beginning of our very first lesson as first years."
"Professor Snape has been known to be... strict. He probably didn't expect you to answer properly."
Harry smirked. "Actually it was the only question of the three I got precisely right. The other two I only partly answered the question, none to the satisfaction of Miss Granger who was waving her hand like a windmill behind me."
Harry thought it was amusing that Granger still raised her hand in such a fashion despite most teachers only calling on her a maximum of three times during any given lesson. He doubted the girl hadn't noticed this herself yet still she persisted.
"Yes. My brother has spoken about her... Calls her an insufferable know-it-all."
Harry narrowed his gaze in disdain. He didn't have many interactions with Ronald Weasley outside of the troll incident from last year and a few run ins where Draco liked to prove the blood feud was going strong between their families... Still, it was obvious that he left much to be desired in a boy of a Sacred Twenty-Eight house. Harry's own adopted father wasn't even on that elite list and still Harry tried to comport himself with honor. Until he received his true father's name it wouldn't do to make himself look the fool. Ronald Weasley, in contrast, didn't seem to care one way or the other and acted out with the sole purpose of being noticed. He was the perfect example of what Gryffindor House had devolved to and the perfect reason most slytherins could not stand the lions. "Ronald Weasley is the last person you should accept information from. He is as biased and ignorant as it is possible to be at our age and seems uninterested in changing either or how he is viewed by those above him in the hierarchy. I doubt it even occurs to him that one day he will not be surrounded by other prepubescent boys just as hotheaded and easily manipulated as he. That eventually he will have to grow up. I reckon it will matter to him though when he finds that his constant disregard for his academics prevents him from achieving acceptable grades on his OWLS and results in his expulsion."
Percival Weasley looked at him with a narrowed gaze that would match well with the analyzing gazes of those of his own house. Harry wondered distantly if the man was probably one of the few that could have been successful in his own house. He had read that sometimes the sorting hat could not immediately sort a student because they were equally suited to more than one house. These 'hatstalls' as they were called were uncommon but did occasionally happen.
"I will admit my youngest brother is... unorthodox..."
Harry snorted. "He is the worst interpretations of his houses' defining characteristics and doesn't care to change. He's gotten 'dreadfuls' in every single potion practical and barely passes the written homework in any given class. He waves around the few acceptables he manages like they're a rank above outstanding and I have no doubt that those are thanks to him copying other students' works. He'll probably take the easiest subjects for our third year which means Divination and Care of Magical Creatures which are largely participation grades."
The prefect looked resigned ot the truth of Harry's words. Harry doubted he hadn't had the same concerns for his brother as he was pointing out now. "As I said, he's in for a rude awakening in our fifth year when his grades denies him admittance into our sixth year curriculum and he is forced with expulsion."
"You don't get expelled if you don't pass a year's courses," Percival pointed out.
"You do if your family cannot afford to cover tuition for a retake of an entire academic year, which I've heard is almost double a normal year's tuition."
The redhead's face flushed in indignation. "Now see here!"
Harry turned sharply to glare at the sixth year. "Weasley. Everyone knows about your family's financial situation. The Department for Muggle Relations pays the least of all Ministry jobs and your mother does not work. There are seven of you. Both your older brothers and the twins have played quidditch. That means brooms and quidditch gear and uniforms. Your family are notoriously tall which means growth spurts and new robes almost every year. Add in text books for each child-- Defense has a new teacher each year which means you cannot reuse them for anyone else-- allowances for Hogsmeade trips, your new owl for making prefect, maintenance for said owl, potions ingredients, herbology equipment, need I go on?"
His face was significantly redder by the end of the little speech but the prefect shook his head in negation. Harry sighed. He hadn't wanted to have such a conversation but now that he was there was nothing to be done but finish it. "I do not judge your family for their financial status. As far as I know most of you are exemplary individuals and well liked amongst my house, excluding your youngest brother. I ignore Draco's idiocy about upholding a blood feud he cannot even name the origin of and if your brother ever became less insufferable I wouldn't even mind negotiating a cessation of said feud."
At this his face blanched. Harry nodded in confirmation to the unasked question. It was unlikely that Lucius Malfoy would cease the feud on his own and Draco hardly was ambivalent to their year's Weasley but Harry would have the power to negotiate such a deal when he proposed an alliance with the Malfoy family. Being the Heir Apparent of a venerated house that had held noble status prior to his birth (and being the Boy Who Lived) would serve him well in having negotiating power.
But that was only if Harry chose to. Percival Weasley was sure to be a high-ranking official in the Ministry one day and the twins were sure to be notable is some fashion-- they were too passionate to not be. William Weasley had grown to be a curse breaker for Gringotts (a rather impressive feat as the goblins were notoriously picky about hiring wizards) and Charles Weasley worked on a dragon reserve, yet another difficult career choice that required a great deal of magical training. But Harry was in the same year as Ronald Weasley, not the others, and as such would be expected to negotiate with him, being the closest in age.
That was not going to happen.
"I will speak with my brother," Percival swore.
Harry tilted his head in the pureblood equivalent of a shrug. "Do what you will but I doubt it will be of any use. He needs to grow up first."
"And he will," the prefect vowed before holding out his arm. "Potter-- Harry-- if you hold to your word of considering to end this feud, I will do everything within my power to aid you from within my family."
Harry arched an eyebrow in surprise. But then again he really shouldn't have been. With Percival surely shooting for a Ministry job, it would behoove him to be on the good side of a politically influential family such as the Malfoys. No doubt Lucius in particular would simply see the name Weasley and discourage any hiring decisions that he could that would allow him a higher position.
Harry only needed a moment to consider this before deciding that he would lose nothing by offering his word. He clasped forearms with the sixth year. "You have my word," he said.
There was a feeling like static-- probably their magic solidifying the agreement-- and they released their grip. "Percy? What are you doing here and with him?"
Harry turned to see Ronald Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas making their way towards them from the Transfiguration classroom. They must've seen them from the doorway and come to investigate. Percival straightened his posture and stared at his brother with a narrowed gaze. "My duties as a prefect. Harry needed an escort to class from our tutoring session and I was more than happy to serve as such."
Harry inwardly laughed at the younger Weasley's open-mouthed gape. Finnigan and Thomas passed a confused gaze between them at the familiar way of address. Harry nodded once to Percival before entering the classroom leaving the family to discuss things as they would. He doubted such a blatant show of support would go over so well with Ronald Weasley but if Percival said he would temper his family then it was his right to do so as he saw fit.
"What are you smiling about?" Draco asked as Harry took his seat next to him.
"Progress, Draco. Progress," he said cryptically. With Percival Weasley no longer confrontational, what few limits he would have posed in Harry further ingratiating himself with the upper years was gone. If anything he was sure to be helpful in the years to come in that regard.
Harry's father would be more than pleased at the potential.
"I dread the answer but what progress?" Vince leaned over from his own desk to the right of them. "The last 'progress' you spoke of in such a manner involved your delusions of wearing your summer cloak in winter with nothing more than a mediocre warming charm half-shoddily stitched into the hood."
Harry flushed at the reminder. Warming charms, as it turned out, could only help so much against a scottish winter. There was the wind to contend with, the moisture from the melting the snow, the snow itself-- safe to say Harry simply wore his winter cloak from then on. He had read stories that monsters could feel neither cold nor heat, hunger nor thirst. He was pretty good with going several days with only mild hunger pains (less so now that he was actually made to eat so much) but the heat and cold thing he was still researching into. Harry had thought that perhaps stitching the runic sequence for a warming charm into his cloak would suffice but discovered there was much more than the cold to contend with in winter. "This is not at all like that," he waved his ally away with a stern expression.
Draco smirked, remembering fondly the cloak incident as he had charmed snowballs to hit Harry the entire way back up to the castle. "Oh yeah? How so?"
Harry frowned at the blond. He knew damn well what the nuisance was thinking of. "Because this one will actually work."
Their discussion was cut short with Professor McGonogall's entrance and all talk of Harry's experiments into monster hood were left for another time.
'It's not like I'm to blame for my failures,' Harry thought bitterly later on while studying with Cedric and Alec. 'There's no one to teach me to be a proper monster and I was taken from Father when I was a baby.'
It was a rather sore subject with him, the potential upbringing he could have had if things were different. Even being raised in the wizarding world might have spared him much of the conflict of his first year. He had been ambushed with his fame, his father, his magic. Such a thing could have driven him away from the wizarding world as a whole and he had considered the benefits of returning to the Dursleys' more than once last year.
Ultimately he recognized the idiocy of such a choice. The Dursleys were not what anyone should want to emulate in any form, even a Muggle. They were ignorant, biased, and horrible people (not completely unlike some of the witches and wizards he had met since turning eleven). If anything Harry thought it would be pleasant to live with Hagrid. He still went for afternoon tea every Saturday without fail-- it was his sanctuary and sheltered him from the stress of his everyday life. Draco and Vince had even accompanied him a few times last term (before it got too cold for their tastes) and hadn't been too rude about the whole thing. 'I'll visit Hagrid during break,' Harry decided. 'Perhaps he'll show me some of the creatures he tends as the groundskeeper.'
"What are you doing for the break?"
Harry glanced up from his notes at the question. It was almost as if Cedric had read his thoughts (which was preposterous because his occlumency shields were always present).
Cedric and Alec had needed the time to study for their OWLS but absolutely refused to miss a meeting with him (Alec had been particularly distraught). Harry had simply shrugged and pulled out his own notes and the matter was settled. They had been working in silence for an hour only broken by occasional academic inquiries. This was the first sign that they were losing focus. "Mum wants me home to help out on the reservation. Angus' brood is bound to hatch for the equinox and they'll need all hands to deal with three hatchlings during Beltane."
Harry perked up at the mention of Beltane. He had spent what the Muggles considered Easter hols at Hogwarts last year cramming in some much needed studying and research into whatever caught his fancy. He had been woefully unprepared for the wizarding world and the time to go through the rather dry readings that went over wizarding traditions and customs ad nauseam had been a great help. But this meant he missed out on what seemed to be an important holiday for traditional pureblood families.
"We're hosting dad's department this year. There's going to be at least seven bonfires. Mum's already preparing for the feast-- I'll be helping as soon as I return."
"I helped in the kitchens once," Alec nodded in a somber expression. "It was awful."
Harry snorted. He had done all of the cooking at the Dursleys and figured a Beltane feast was nothing but cooking in bigger quantities. 'Then again I did think Professor McGonogall had cooked the welcome feast last year,' Harry thought with an embarrassed flush. When he had complimented her on the feast the next day at Transfiguration class she had informed him that house elves were actually responsible for the meals and cleaning within the castle. Harry had been so confused about the concept that she had later shown him the entrance to the kitchens (after gaining a promise that he would not share the location with anyone else). The house elves of Hogwarts were very different to the Malfoy house elves. The creatures were excitable and energetic while the Malfoys prized silence and efficiency in their own elves. Within Malfoy Manor the presence of house elves were noted in the polished marble and the gleaming silver but never actually seen.
"What is your family doing Harry?"
Harry blinked in surprise. His thoughts had wandered once again off topic. "The Dursleys are muggles and hate magic," Harry shrugged right before remembering he wasn't supposed to. "I will spend the break here training."
'Maybe I'll try to find the entrance to Slytherin's chamber when not with Hagrid,' Harry thought to himself, completely missing the look passed between the two fifth years.
"What do you do for summer hols then? You can't stay at Hogwarts all year, you know," Alec pointed out.
Harry glanced up from his thoughts and nodded in acknowledgement. "I spend the other breaks with the Malfoys. Lady Narcissa has been tutoring me in different subjects a pureblood should know. But I'm almost fourteen so Lucius Malfoy will probably want to start talking about house business." Harry frowned at the thought.
This time he did see the look that passed between the two hufflepuffs but had no idea what it meant. "What?" he asked defensively.
"Harry," Cedric began, some form of silent communication passing between him and Alec, "Would you like to attend my family's Beltane festival?"
He hadn't expected that! Sure he and Cedric had been training together for months but he hadn't thought their relationship was so good to garner an invitation to his family's estate-- and on a holiday, no less. Even Draco's initial invitation to spend the summer with his family last year hadn't been so forward as this (mostly because Lucius had extended the invitation in hopes of Harry feeling indebted to the Malfoy patriarch). Harry wasn't sure when it happened but it seemed that he had become friends with Cedric Diggory. Maybe even allies, pending Cedric's father's approval. "I would be honored," Harry spoke with the gravity the situation called for.
Draco, as Harry should have expected, had one or two complaints...
"He's a Hufflepuff, Harry! You can't jump a Hufflepuff's bonfire! And what would father even think? You're going to Amos Diggory's ministry party but not ours. With a Hufflepuff! He's almost sixteen Harry. Practically at his age of majority and you're just going to galavant through their Beltane celebration as if we haven't been working towards an alliance for the past two years. Have you no dignity? He's a Hufflepuff!"
Harry couldn't help but smile indulgently to the dramatics of his blond ally. Draco did love to flail about in the safety of the common room which is why Harry had waited until the day they were to leave Hogwarts for the break to tell him. He hadn't truly wanted to deal with such theatrics for the past week. No, it was best to let the others assume he was staying at Hogwarts as he had last year. "Are you quite done?" he asked when Draco flopped down into the chaise across from him with a pout.
"I don't even think you were listening," he moped.
Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Of course I was listening. You find insult that I did not ask to attend your Beltane celebrations--"
"And he's a Hufflepuff," Zabini called from across the room where he lounged spectacularly on a stuffed chair, a transfiguration textbook forgotten in his lap for the entertainment that was Draco.
"Yes, that," Harry agreed. "And that he's a Hufflepuff. The first I can understand but the second makes no sense."
Draco scowled. "Hu-ffle-puff," he hissed in emphasis as if that made any more sense.
"Yes. He's also ranked fifth in his year academically and hails from a traditional pureblood family of great repute. Honestly the only reason I'm going is because I thought you would appreciate the direct connection to his house. It's not like you've made any attempts to gain his notice."
"Harry," Draco all but whined. "He's a Hufflepuff."
"As you've mentioned. But I'm sure you're beyond the point where you believed that Hufflepuff was the house for those not good at anything else. Helena would be more than pleased to give you examples of hufflepuffs that should be respected," Harry warned.
The blood practically drained from Draco's face. Last term some plucky fourth year had had the misfortune of demeaning the badger house within earshot of Helena and the resulting hex had resulted in the boy being in the hospital wing for a fortnight. Helena had made it a point to verbalize just what she thought of those who demeaned said house in the common room the afternoon he was finally cleared to return to classes. "No," Draco said then cleared his throat when it came out as a croak, "No. I understand perfectly."
Harry smiled amicably. "Of course you do."
Draco's supposed understanding did not prevent the blond from moping the entire train ride into King's Cross. When Harry greeted the Malfoy's to give his excuses before joining Cedric Diggory at the floo line it was obvious that Lucius shared his son's opinions. "Lord Malfoy looked like he'd smelled something distasteful," Cedric joked when Harry finally tripped out of the fireplace.
"Believe it or not, that was his public face."
Harry glared at the soot that covered his clothes. These were one of his better robe sets and the rest were in his shrunken trunk stashed in his pocket. He'd need to find a house elf to clean up and unshrink his items. Just as he was going to ask Cedric for one's aid, the soot vanished from his person. Harry's head shot up in surprise at the fifth year's disregard for Ministry laws. (It wasn't so surprising tha the Malfoy's ignored it, but he had thought Cedric was a little more straight-and-narrow about these kinds of things.) "Cedric. You can't use magic outside of Hogwarts," he scolded. Harry hardly needed to be accused of underage magic with Ministry employees about.
The brunette chuckled and shook his head. "Harry, you're on a magical estate. You mean to tell me you haven't been using magic while at the Malfoys?"
Harry didn't want to say that he figured the Malfoys had more extensive wards on their property than the Diggory's but something of the sort must have shown on his face because the Hufflepuff rolled his eyes. "That's what I thought. The trace is only on the wand itself and outside of that, as long as there is a registered adult on the premises the areal trace can't tell who's cast the spell. Don't use your wand around the guests and you'll be fine, even away from the Malfoy's prestigious wards."
This was news to Harry. Lady Narcissa had told him that the wards covering Malfoy Manor were older than even the Ministry and were goblin-made besides-- there was no tracking charm in existence that could pierce the thick wards, even apparition and portkeys were ineffective. Harry had thought it should have been obvious why the Ministry wouldn't be able to sense him and Draco using magic during the summer and Yule hols.
But what Cedric said made sense as well. How else would the Ministry know if a student in a magical house cast outside of Hogwarts if they didn't check their wand? The type of wards needed to track specific magical signatures was very complex. One would have to be a master in magic manipulation, spellcraft, ancient runes, and macro enchantments to even begin to speculate on such a charm. And Harry knew for a fact that there were only a handful of master magic manipulators in the world-- only one in Britain-- that also was a master in ancient runes. Enchanters were pretty common, but macro enchanting was a dying craft. It was just easier all around to add spells after something large was created, not during, which reclassified it as warding at that point.
But that meant as long as Harry had an adult wizard nearby to act as a supervisor (and wasn't in a predominately muggle area) the Ministry wouldn't care if he did magic outside of school. "That's brilliant," Harry grinned up at the taller boy.
Cedric returned his expression with a far more amused smile. "I thought you'd think so. Come on then. Let's greet my parents."
Harry followed dutifully, still mulling over the sudden possibilities before him. As long as he was in the presence of an adult, and he used wandless magic, the Ministry would not punish him for using magic outside of school. In fact if Harry played his cards right, even if he wasn't under direct supervision he might be allowed to get away with some innocuous spells. Nothing too advanced, but simple every day charms... "Well met Heir Potter."
Harry blinked in surprise. He had been so caught up in his own mind he hadn't notice Cedric leading him outside. There were a few people setting up for Beltane which would take place the following night, white and silver flowers been charmed as centerpieces on the long tables set out for the feast. In the distance he could see someone had already erected the maypole and was already charming the floral reef at the top. "Harry," a voice interrupted his thoughts once again.
He jumped in surprise then blushed at the two amused gazes that were focused on him. "Don't mind him," Cedric said over his chuckle, "He tends to get lost in thought a lot."
"Don't mind yourself," he grumbled at his friend and bowed low to the man before him. Amos Diggory was the head of a Light family of the likes long understood in tradition. Before the Ministry's propaganda had sowed deceit and strife between the three core designations a light and dark house could meet and interact without politics getting in the way. Harry hoped that his efforts in creating a positive relationship with the Diggory family now would pay dividends when he eventually declared his house Dark when he became acting Head. "Well met, Lord Diggory. You have a lovely estate."
"My son tells me you've been spending quite a bit of time at the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. I'm afraid my abode makes for a very poor substitute."
"Nonsense. Your estate has a charm all its own that I'm sure many of your guests would seek to replicate in their own homes in the future."
Amos Diggory flushed at the praise and laughed jovially, his glasses glinting in the sunlight as he threw his head back. The man laughed with his entire body and Harry could easily see where Cedric got his enjoyment of life from. They looked remarkably similar in the way that Harry was beginning to expect in pureblood houses. Lord Diggory had a few more laugh lines and was a little rounder than his quidditch playing son, but their golden brown hair was the same and the cut of their jawline. Their eyes, though, were different colors. 'Perhaps from his mother', Harry mused.
"My boy if I didn't know better I'd accuse you of buttering me up," Lord Diggory said good-naturedly.
Harry gave the man the expected conspiring smirk. "I only speak the truth Lord Diggory."
Lord Diggory chuckled. "Oh you are a charmer I see. I'll have to introduce you to the missus. She's going to adore you, I can already tell."
He led them through the house proper and it was indeed a bit 'less' than the ostentatious finery that Harry had become familiar with thanks to the influence of several generations of Malfoys on what passed for interior decorating in an estate that was more reminiscent of a chateau than a manor. But the warmer tones of the hardwood floors, the several windows bringing in natural light streaking through the air, and the several vases of flowers that were placed everywhere made it astoundingly beautiful in its own right. "Truly your home is filled with Light and life," Harry spoke kindly.
Cedric shot him a pleased grin as his father threw back his head and laughed joyously as he gestured down the hall. Harry was pleased that the man seemed to be so perceptive to liking him. There were sure to be some Light families that would assume him to be Dark thanks to the company he kept. Others (Dumbledore, for one) would probably label him as such simply because of who his father was. He was Grey, actually, discovered through several months of trial and error into the deepest parts of each branch and into the center of his own core. What truly made magic dangerous, he felt, was that some people did not treat it with the correct reverence it deserved. Most witches and wizards could probably use the basic spells in each branch without being much for wear but too many dive in the deep end on one branch and end up unbalanced. Dark magic, he's realizing, poisons the mind but Light magic poisons the core itself. There were several upperclassmen (especially the more… unpleasant individuals…) that he could see the signs in their magic that they had dabbled too heavily in the Darker aspects of the world.
Harry felt the tingling of the stinging hex before it hit him in his right arm. "Ouch," he hissed and glared at Cedric, the obvious guilty party.
Any retribution he might have enacted was waylaid by the strange phantom that was peeking from the doorway leading into the hallway. It looked like a child… but between one blink and the next it vanished. Harry was immediately curious (a trait that Vince said was more likely to get him in trouble than not) but a second stinging hex had his attention switch sharply to Cedric once again. The blond merely gestured with his eyes to further into the room. Harry obediently reoriented on Lord Diggory who was grinning affably and making expansive hand gestures to the woman standing next to him. She was much more composed than her boisterous counterpart. "-and this is my dearest Penelope, the lady of the house," Lord Diggory finished.
Harry stepped forward to bow over the woman's outstretched hand. "Lady Penelope, you have a beautiful home. I would like to express my gratitude for being invited to join you in the festivities."
Her face lifted into a smile much sharper than her husband and son. (Harry noted that her eyes weren't the same color as Cedric's… perhaps the Hufflepuff had a latent gene? Such a thing had seemed to be uncommon for purebloods where the younger generation took after their parents so heavily in appearance, but who really knew when it came to science?) "We are honored to have you here, of course, Harry."
Harry pointedly did not wrinkle his nose at the casual and informal address, but only because the lady had turned to gesture at her kitchen which was teeming with magic in progress. Dishes were being scrubbed in the large sink, vegetables were being chopped on the counter next to it, a large pot of something was being stirred further down, and on the large table in the center of the room there were two house elves that were assembling large floral arrangements bigger than Harry was tall. "As you can see preparations are well underway. Cedric tells me you two wished to help in the kitchens?"
Harry nodded, ignoring the helpless expression Cedric shot him at being lumped in with his endeavor to be helpful. "I would be honored to, if you do not mind. I have experience assisting my aunt with meals and am quite comfortable in the kitchen. Cedric and Lord Diggory looked to be taking measure of the progress outside and I would hate to disturb the progress there."
Penelope's smile was more gentle now, especially around the edges. "A young one after my own heart." She turned to her husband and son. "You two can run along now. Harry and I have a few things to attend to without any silly boys stumbling about."
Harry ignored her usage of his given name once more (and the fact that she excluded him from the other 'silly boys') and waved Cedric away. Lady Diggory was a nice enough sort, he supposed, but some of her niceties came across as affected or rehearsed. She also ignored his hints that she shouldn't call him by his first name no matter how many times he purposely called her 'Lady Diggory'. She even cooed at him several times when he had to stand on a stool to reach a cabinet or chase after a wayward tool that flew out of his reach (somehow he didn't think he should show anyone that he could do wandless spell casting and more to the point there was just something not quite right about Lady Diggory). All in all, it was oddly reminiscent of the beginning of his interactions with Queenie and the other fourth year girls. He was relieved when she decided to show him to his rooms after only two hours. "You were a remarkable amount of help, Harry. Much more help than any silly boys," Lady Diggory remarked, once again omitting Harry from the male gender.
"I'm glad I was of help. I truly appreciate your hospi-tali...ty…" Harry droned off at the end, having caught a flash of white reflected in the decorative mirror on his left. The white phantom, that was indeed a little girl, was only a few feet behind them, hiding behind one of the large flower arrangements. Harry blinked in surprise. Once could have been his imagination but seeing the same ghost-like apparition twice meant either there was a ghost in the hall or Harry was losing his mind. (And although he wasn't going to completely disregard the possibility of the latter he was a bit young to lose his mind, monster or not.) Of course when he turned around the phantom was gone. 'How curious,' he thought before turning back to Lady Diggory with a placating smile. "Do my rooms have a view of the grounds? Your estate is rather beautiful and I would enjoy gazing on it some more."
Thankfully the woman ignored any eccentricities of Harry's (as he found most people tended to after meeting him) and easily led him to what was to be his room during his stay. Unlike Malfoy Manor where each room was actually a set of personal living quarters, he was actually shown to a bedroom about the size of the second year boy's quarters. Which meant it was plenty large for a bedroom but not so much that Harry felt uncomfortable, the way he sometimes still did with the effortless show of wealth the Malfoys always exhibited. "If there is nothing else," Lady Diggory said from the doorway after she had given Harry a moment to peruse the room, "then I will depart. My husband has been sure to have gone awry in his duties and will need me to get him back to task."
Harry bowed in farewell, a smile on his lips at the thought of the Lord Diggory. It did indeed seem like something he would do. "Actually, there is," Harry thought remembering the fleeting glimpses he'd seen throughout the day. "Are there other children living here?" Harry knew enough about adults that they would consider him a child despite him not actually being human. They'd probably even consider Cedric a child because parents were funny like that.
Lady Diggory's face closed off in a pureblood mask equivalent of a Gringotts vault door slamming shut. Harry was rather surprised to see the occlumency technique about such an innocuous question. Lady Narcissa had always said that such a show of emotion (or rather the lack of emotion) should only be used in certain situations where the person you wished to hide information from has no way of actually gaining that in which they seek. It was still a pretty hardcore indicator that you wanted to hide something, though. "No," the Lady finally said. "There is no one here." And with that she closed the door.
Harry spent quite a bit of time thinking about the little mystery of the little girl he had seen. Initially he had been inclined to call her a ghost, but she was much too solid for that. She was much too calm to be a poltergeist like Peeves but Harry wasn't entirely sure that she was a spirit. Ultimately it wasn't any of his business what secrets the Diggory's held within their estate even if he was a guest currently. He would ask Cedric tomorrow and if he was met with the same avoidance as his mother then he would leave it be. Light or not, Harry was sure that gaining the ire of a noble house was a poor political decision in all aspects. That didn't keep him from thinking of the mystery of the non-ghost girl that haunted the Diggory Estate.
Harry doesn't remember what dreaming was like prior to discovering his mindscape. Upon first learning about the internal organization of the mind through advanced occlumency Harry had fallen into a meditative state almost every night to travel through the world within his mind where the tangibility of magic could be controlled and limited. Within his mind palace Harry learned to distinguish between the different tastes and tones of magic. He became more familiar with the low rumbling sensation in the back of his molars that was Hogwarts or the sharp tinny ringing in his ears that was the Headmaster's magic that got louder and sharper when he cast a spell. He also became intimately familiar with his own magic's coloring and taste, how a part was dark and bitter and cold. Another part was warm and golden and light. Then there was the other magic that was green and leafy and growing.
Tonight Harry wasn't bothering with playing with his magic (which manifested as a large sprawling tree who's canopy towered over the rest of the vegetation of his mindscape garden). Instead he was playing in the bed of flowers that had appeared in the glen on the edges of his mindscape. They were small white flowers with a red center spanning a circle with a radius of ten feet and slowly spreading. Harry supposed it made sense that his thoughts about the ghost would populate the surface of his thoughts even this deep into his subconscious. Helena had always warned he was prone to obsessing over the most inconsequential things until he got an answer and this probably wouldn't be any different. Harry wasn't going to cause an incident with the Diggory family out of curiosity but he was sure to dig for more information.
Rather than spending the time studying or practicing his magic like he often did at night, he played with the flowers, allowing his mind to propagate the idea further. Honestly there wasn't much he knew about the phantom so ultimately she ended up on his back staring up at the sky as the time passed by, content in his solitude.
Harry doesn't quite dream anymore, not in the traditional sense but he thinks sometimes, when he isn't doing anything in particular in his mindscape, he comes close. The sky begins to snow after some time. There are no white fluffy clouds, no drop in temperature, just snow. When he leans up to look at the garden that makes up his mindscape the glen has expanded into a meadow with rolling hills and there is a thick layer of snow covering everything as far as the eye can see with the same little white flowers popping up through the snow with little red splashes of red. Harry blinked in surprise at the juxtaposition of colors. "Snow and pomegranate seeds..." he whispered.
"What are pummel-granny seeds?" came a small voice.
That finally dragged him from the last vestiges of sleep, a state he had unknowingly been drifting on for some time. Harry sat up slowly, resisting the sudden urge to yawn and looked again at the image. It wasn't snow at all but the same little girl he had caught glimpses of yesterday while aiding Lady Diggory in the kitchen. "Hello," Harry greeted her, bemused by the sudden appearance of the child.
She looked just as ethereal close up as she had at a distance. Her skin was so pale it had to be called white and her hair matched the color. It was several steps beyond Malfoy's pale complexion. She looked almost as if color dared not touch her, even the dress she wore was of an untarnished white. The only exception was the two almond-shaped eyes that stared back at him with a softness that calmed the severity of their red color. "What are pummel-granny seeds?" she asked again.
Harry blinked in bemusement. "They are the innards of a fruit called po-me-gran-it," he pronounced the word carefully so she could hear how he said it. "They are the same color as your eyes, I believe."
The girl stared at him in silence for a few moments. Then she tilted her head to the side. "Penelope said they look like blood. Cedric thinks it looks like a silly flower."
Harry shook his head. "I disagree. Your eyes are soft and calm. Much too pretty for either description."
She lifted her chin in challenge and Harry considered the oddity of this entire situation. He was still in his pajamas, Morgana give him strength, yet was having a conversation with a little girl about the best way to describe her rather unusual eye color. "Daddy says they are Dark," she whispered, almost as a confession she did not wish to be heard. "Says I am too..."
Harry kept his face clear of the sudden discontent he felt for the way the Wizarding World of Great Britain handled the distinctions between magic. There was so much he and father needed to do when he returned to power. "Do you want to know a secret?"
The little girl narrowed her eyes suddenly suspicious. "Why? No one tells me secrets, I'm just a silly little girl."
"Because I wished someone had told me this secret when I was younger."
She wrinkled her nose, giving it a great deal more thought than Harry expected from someone so young. After a few moments she nodded her head in acquiescence. "Do you know who I am?" he asked as a precursor.
She frowned and Harry could see her thoughts. 'This isn't a secret,' she is probably thinking. "No. Why? Are you someone important?"
Harry smiled. "Some seem to think so. My name is Harry Potter."
The little girl jolted in surprise, her bright red eyes widening. "You killed the Dark Lord."
Harry was surprised to find that she referred to his father by his title. Generally only those who respected him used it-- his followers and the neutral parties that were otherwise Dark. To hear a child sequestered away in the halls of a Light estate refer to his father as such was... strange. "But that is the secret: I did not kill the Dark Lord."
The beginning inklings of discomfort he noticed in her gaze stopped at that admission. Harry wasn't concerned about telling such a thing to a child. He had already noticed her occlumency shields were almost impenetrable through the aura that cloaked her. It was unusual to find a child who had aura so heavily concentrated as hers but it did not appear to be interacting with the world around her which was again... strange. Magic was a naturally curious entity that was always reaching out to the surrounding environment looking for more of itself. But her aura was completely self-contained and was the same bright red as her eyes.
"You didn't?"
"No," Harry confirmed without hesitation. "And furthermore I am Grey. Do you know what that means?"
She nodded her head eagerly. "Yes. Cedric told me it was rare."
Harry nodded. "It is difficult to say because so many do not practice magic from both sides of the spectrum. It means I can perform both light spells and dark spells without injury to my magical core."
"Is that good?"
Harry nodded. "It is how magic was meant to be used, I believe. Dark is not evil. Light is not good. They are magic and magic is not predisposed to either. It is the will we exert upon magic, the wielder, that changes it."
She nodded as if this made perfect sense to her. "I know. Daddy and Cedric glow but so does Penelope and she is never nice."
That was the second time she had called Lady Diggory by her first name and he did not think it was accidental. But there was something else she had said that was more important. "They glow?"
"Yes. Their magic glows around them."
Harry sat back and thought heavily, a smile forming on his face. He had learned early on in his magical education to not talk about anything unprompted, that included anything about people's auras. Careful observation has led him to believe that no one else sees them to begin with, at least none of the other students ever spoke of it in the casual way they spoke of all forms of magic. Which means it wasn't an everyday occurrence that the masses experienced. It wasn't one of the things that Queenie instructed him on that should not be discussed in polite society such as squibs, magical cores, and his father. And although Lady Narcissa had discouraged sharing information that he had a monopoly on, the little girl had already admitted she saw things that others couldn't too. Harry grinned. "You can see their auras too. Why is yours red?"
The little girl shrugged. "I don't know. Why are you three colors?"
Harry frowned. He couldn't actually see his own aura and didn't know what it looked like. If what this girl said was true then Harry could guess based off of his experiences within his mind palace but had no way of confirming his suspicions without knowing anyone else who could see them. One could only expect so much from a little girl. He glanced up at that thought. "What's your name?" Harry asked suddenly, realizing his mistake. It was quite rude of him to have gotten so far into a conversation with someone and not have asked her name.
The girl's face brightened and Harry could have sworn that the sun had crested across her face such was her happiness. "I'm Analise Priscilla Diggory. You can call me Ana." She said and held her hand out.
Harry smiled at what was obviously a rehearsed introduction. He got the feeling that not too many people bothered to ask it of her. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Ana," he said, bowing over her outstretched hand.
The little girl with such odd coloring giggled in unrestrained glee and Harry felt a lightness in his chest from the sound. Children were so effortlessly happy that it baffled him that so many people wouldn't put in the little effort required to keep them as such. "I like your colors," she decided with a wide grin. "Do you want to pick flowers with me?"
Harry returned her smile. "It would be an honor."
Cedric found them in the meadow that surrounded the house several hours later, no doubt retracing the steps of their earlier acts of mischief that preceded them making it outside to pick flowers. Ana noticed him before Harry did despite her back being to the house in which he came from. Harry had noticed throughout the day that Ana's sensitivity to magical auras was stronger than his own in some instances but completely blind in others. For instance she couldn't see the magical auras given off by the paintings or the estate wards that glistened in the sky forming a dome that encompassed the Diggory's land. But she was very sensitive to the magical auras of the house elves tasked to watch her (which she avoided with the unrepentant tenacity of only young children) and the Diggory family themselves. "'Lo Cedric," Harry greeted in an especially good mood, his gaze still focused on the flowers he was finishing braiding into Analise's moonlight strands.
"Harry?"
He glanced up at Cedric's tone and arched an eyebrow in question. Noticing the gathering crowd on the other side of the yard Harry realized it must be close to the start of the festivities. He scooped up Analise from the ground and placed her on his hip. She was a little tall for five but quickly settled in close to help balance herself. Harry turned back to Cedric and stopped at the odd expression on his face. "What?"
"You... there are May flowers in your hair..."
Harry smiled and brought a hand to trace an identical flower to the one he had braided in Ana's hair. He had had to pull his hair out of the que he pulled it back in in order to braid it but Ana assured him he looked good. (Admittedly she had compared his image to a prince but Harry much preferred that to the 'pretty' comment that was coming up more and more frequently the older he got.) "Ana wanted to match. What do you think?"
Cedric's smile softened. "I think it is remarkable she is so taken with you. My sister so rarely likes strangers. She's even fearful of the house elves."
"Cause-cause they're weird," Analise huffed in indignation.
Cedric threw back his head and laughed getting a pout from Ana that Harry found adorable. "Well hurry up you two," Cedric eventually said once he was only grinning at them, "The feast is about to start and you two can only be out until sundown."
Ana sniffed at the insinuation that she was too young to participate in all of Beltane and Harry quite agreed. He had done more than enough research to know what 'traditionally' happened after the bonfires had been leapt and the dances had concluded. The type of activities that adults got up to following their celebration of magic often ended with a celebration of the flesh. He didn't see why it mattered to him though. He could dance perfectly fine by himself without pairing up with someone.
Cedric laughed again as if he knew exactly what they were thinking and led the way towards the gathered crowd.
A/N: I know it's been a long time coming by here are the rewritten chapters I promised last year. I'm posting a bunch of chapters all at once-- many of which have been rewritten and the last of which is an update. Because of this it might be helpful to reread at least from chapter 8 onwards where a lot of the additional scenes begin cropping up. That also means the author note will be identical for half of the chapters so every reader that's already started the story knows what's going on. I thank everyone for their patience.
Aerialas