-Chapter Twelve-
Breaking Down
Just off one of the main aisles of the extensive Hogwarts library, at the edge of the Charms section and with handy access to some of the other core subjects, a table was occupied by two of its usual inhabitants. As the term was drawing to a close, many of the first year Slytherins had congregated here to study for the progress tests which some professors liked to schedule before the holidays. However, all but Harry and Millicent were taking advantage of having no lessons on a Friday afternoon, just like the first years of the other three Houses. Even Harry found his concentration drifting, looking up from his book and staring into middle distance as he contemplated the changes he had experienced since he had received his Hogwarts letter.
The massive change had shaken him when he had arrived as everything was so different. It had taken him a long time to adjust and figure everything out, and before he had, he'd been hit by nearly dying in his first Flying lesson and the malice of the fire in his dormitory. Even so, he hadn't stopped mentally kicking himself for misconstruing the looks his Hufflepuff friends had given him during the Sorting and putting himself at a disadvantage by avoiding them.
Since his time in the Hufflepuff dormitories, he felt he had centred himself and taken the time to objectively observe. He knew he needed to become better at making good decisions quickly, rather than in retrospect. Of course, he should have used his small size and speed to get around that seventh year on the first night, to be given a chance to commune with the chamber snake, but that chance was gone now. It was those missed chances that he wouldn't be able to sustain if they continued, but he smiled as he thought back to the day after the troll incident.
He had given the password and the wall had slid back as usual, allowing the group to enter the common room. He entered first, arms crossed loosely to not prevent access to his wand should it be needed. Though there were only a few people in there, many at breakfast or already on their way to Friday morning classes, those present fell silent as he entered, framed by his friends following through the entrance. He had paused and raised an eyebrow, looking at each person in turn with their appraising looks, and they returned to their business, some giving him a quick nod before doing so. Blaise had clapped him on the back once they were in their dormitory grabbing their bags. Harry had dried his sweating palms on his robe.
It hadn't taken him long to notice that Millicent was spending as little time as possible in the common room and dormitory. At first, he had assumed that she was intent on following him as much as reasonably possible. A large part of him was thankful that Millicent was female, as his mind wandered to how awkward he would have found it if he had been followed into the bathroom half a dozen times per day. Nevertheless, he was glad to see that she was welcomed by his other friends and had started to smile in their presence, however faintly.
When he began to frequent the common room more, however, as part of attempting to further cement his presence in the House, it was obvious that following him wasn't her top priority. She stayed in the library or wandered around the grounds and, more frequently with the dropping temperatures, the castle. Just as she left for breakfast with a fully packed bag as early as possible in the mornings, she returned late to the common room every night. Harry felt obliged to keep a good balance between being in the common room and being there for his newest friend.
"How've you been lately?" he asked the girl sitting opposite. Millicent looked up from her book and quirked her eyebrows.
"Fine, why?"
"Oh, no reason. Just asking." Millicent's eyebrows rose higher, and Harry sighed at being caught out. "Well, maybe I was just wondering why you were avoiding the common room. Is it Malfoy?" Millicent's shoulders sagged slightly as she looked away.
"No, nothing like that," she said. "It's just… How can you stand it?"
"Stand what?"
"The common room. The dormitory. It's dark and cold and damp and just… unpleasant." She shuddered and Harry cocked his head.
"What do you mean?"
"It used to be beautiful and bright and a lovely place to be in. It was clean and comforting and felt like home. I don't understand!" With this, she put her head in her hands. Harry thought carefully about what she could mean. With sudden clarity, he formed a theory and set about testing it with the utmost diplomacy.
"Did you start seeing the common room this way when you - ah - joined our dormitory?" Millicent looked up at him.
"How did you know?"
"We all saw that before we got our tokens from the chamber snake, remember? I have a theory that what you see now is just an illusion and that it can be broken, but similarly I have a theory that it can only be broken by you and that it won't work if you're told the secret to it. I think there's more to Slytherin House than either of us know." Millicent nodded her head. It made sense. It was just so realistic. "I have an idea, though, that might help. Let's put these books away."
With that, the two of them returned the books they had been using. They went to place the books on the empty shelf at waist height around where the books had come from, and let go when they felt the magic grasping them. Each of the books then floated up to the appropriate space on the correct shelf, some moving more diagonally than others as they were returned less accurately.
Millicent waited outside the kitchens while Harry entered the Hufflepuff common room around the corner, respectful of their private space. He looked over the students in yellow-trimmed robes milling about the sett, but couldn't see his friend. The nearest person shook their head when asked if they knew where Neville was, so Harry approached someone he recognised as a prefect.
#
"I can't do it!" Harry slowly opened his eyes to look at Millicent laying back on a pile of cushions in frustration.
"You'll get there," he said calmly. "I'm only a couple of chapters ahead and that's because I've had a head start. You keep working through the book over Christmas and we'll probably be at the same point when classes start again."
"Hmmm."
"Look, there's two ways you can do well at anything. Firstly, enjoy it. You can get really good at something if you enjoy it. If you can't enjoy it, though, you've got to try not to care. Your mind will work against you when you care about something. When I'm in an important discussion, I'll never be able to think of the right thing to say until long after it's over, when it doesn't matter. I'll only ever have my best ideas when I'm just about to drop off to sleep or at the start of the lesson, when there's nothing I can do about the idea. If you can convince your mind that something doesn't matter, it'll often work in the background and solve whatever it is."
"I suppose you're right," conceded Millicent after pausing to think. "Anyway, I need to go back and finish packing."
"Let's put away these cushions for Professor McGonagall first," said Harry. "It wouldn't do to cause her to regret her generosity." Millicent giggled at Harry's imitation of Daphne when she was relaying one of her father's maxims and helped to stack up the cushions. He grinned, pleased to hear that rarest of sounds.
"Are you going to Daphne's Christmas gathering?" Millicent asked as they left the Transfiguration classroom. She tucked the book into her bag and hoisted it further onto her shoulder.
"No, it's a political thing. Daphne explained it to me the other day. She was really nice about it and I guess it was good of her to talk to me about it rather than just leaving me to think about it myself. I take it you're going?"
"Yeah, and I guess you're right. It's not just about who's in the Heirs dormitory. I mean, of course not if I'm going, but there are people from other Houses going. I think my dad does some business with Daphne's father, but he's said we won't start getting involved until at least third year."
"What are they like?" Harry asked.
"These gatherings aren't anywhere near as good as normal visits. We all have to be on our best behaviour and keep out of the way of the adults. I think they get a House-elf to look after us, but we never see them. We just see mess disappearing when Vincent or Gregory spill something. The chat's usually alright as those two don't get invited very often, usually when Malfoy's hosting, but that's about it to be honest."
"If it's a political thing, talk is probably the most important part of it. Maybe they're trying to get you all to get a head start with that, talking with the people you'll be doing business with in the future." Millicent turned to Harry and gave him an appraising look.
"You know, you're probably right. You'd likely do well at one of these."
"Maybe next time," Harry said, chuckling. This time, I have to stay at Neville's while he and his gran go to this thing."
"True. It'll be difficult for you, no offence, as you don't have connections through your parents, but out of everyone I know, I have no doubt that you'll make it. Being the Boy Who Lived has to count for something too."
"Thanks, Millicent, but you know I hate that," Harry said, changing course to bump lightly into Millicent's side.
"Nevertheless, you'll own it and use it to your advantage. Can you imagine the look on Blaise's face if you didn't?" Millicent flashed him a cheeky grin, all her previous frustration having disappeared over the course of their conversation.
"I can," he admitted as they began to descend the grand staircase, "but sometimes I can't help feeling that he's going to use me to his advantage."
"Well of course he is. When you become a powerful figure, he'll already have connections with you. It's not a bad thing, though. It can be beneficial for the both of you."
"But how will I ever know if anyone's being genuine? I don't want people to be friends with me just because it gives them an advantage."
"Look, Harry," Millicent said, stopping their descent and turning him to face her, "I'll always tell you the truth - you know that now - and from what I can see, Blaise genuinely likes you, and you like him too. What's wrong with setting yourselves up for the future at the same time?" She looked him in the eye and he saw no deceit. He smiled, a little shyly.
"You're right. Thanks."
#
Neville, Susan and Hannah were waiting in the entrance hall when the Slytherin first years finally emerged, ready to go home. At the sight of the Christmas trees, oversized but very much to the scale of the room, Harry briefly wondered what a Christmas at Hogwarts would be like, but he was sure that a Longbottom Christmas would be wonderful. He clapped his holiday host on the back and the crowd of students flowed out of the castle doors.
Contrary to how they had arrived at the school, today's transport to Hogsmeade station was to be one of a row of black carriages, drawn by an invisible force. Straps floated in front of the carriages as though the air itself were harnessed and the wheeled contraption held six, two more than the boats had. The insides were more comfortable than the boats, too, but it would be hard to beat the effect of that view from all the way down on the surface of the lake, the castle towering above them at the maximum possible distance within the grounds.
The three Hufflepuffs were joined by Harry, Millicent and Tracey, with most of the remaining Slytherins taking the next carriage. Blaise had wangled his way into a spot in that second carriage, so Vincent and Gregory joined some other students in the carriage behind them. Each carriage trundled away as soon as the doors on both sides were closed, the straps stretched taut in front of them.
"Are you and your aunt going to the Greengrass gathering over Christmas?" Harry asked Susan. Her aunt was Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and she had been in her position for over a year. Susan had told him proudly that her aunt had been promoted to the position soon after Cornelius Fudge had taken up the position of Minister for Magic in the spring of the previous year. He had found out separately from discussions with his Slytherin friends that the position had been made free due to the demotion of one Bartemius Crouch to the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
"Not me, just Auntie," Susan explained. "She has to go because she has her position on the Wizengamot because of her job, but I don't have to go as it's not to do with us as a family. I get to stay around Hannah's for the night, rather than having to sit around bored stiff at these things. Auntie's always telling me how much of a bore these-"
Susan was interrupted by a flash of light and a loud cracking sound and the crunching of gravel slowly petered out as they came to a stop. Apart from Hannah making a faint meep sound, they fell silent.
"Shall we just walk the rest of the way?" Tracey asked as the next carriage trundled past. Nobody could be seen looking at their stationary carriage from the one passing. "It can't be far."
"No," Millicent said firmly. Four heads snapped towards her.
"Millicent's right," Harry said. "I don't like the look of this. The carriages wouldn't just break down and we're safer in here."
"I think Auntie would agree with you."
"So what should we do?" Neville asked, looking towards Harry. Harry sat back and tapped his knees in thought.
"We should try and get the attention of the teachers," he mused out loud, "but we don't have anything to communicate with… No owls… No phones because of the magic… Magic… What spells do we know? Got to be a charm… Sparks?" He sat upright and looked around. "Sparks in the air. Red ones only."
"Shall I open the door a crack and you shoot the sparks?" Neville asked, immediately latching onto what Harry was saying.
"Right door. Tracey, you help close. Ready?"
#
"Yeh can pop yer wands away now," the large man said in his gruff voice. The six had been surprised when Hagrid, who they recognised from their boat trip at the start of the year, showed his face at the window of the coach and near enough pulled the door off its hinges. Hagrid had been surprised in turn at the sight of six wandpoints wavering in his general direction. He had blinked at a rogue spark making its way over his shoulder.
"Sorry," Hannah said sheepishly, still embarrassed. "Thanks for your help, sir."
"Yeh're welcome, I guess," Hagrid said with a raised eyebrow. "But enough o' this sir business. Call me Hagrid." Hannah blushed and ducked her head, but only briefly as they all spun round at the sound of flapping feet and panting.
"G-g-good you g-got them, Hagrid," Professor Quirrell, clearly out of breath. "I c-can take them from here."
"Nonsense, pr'fessor," Hagrid waved him off. "We'll be just at the station in a mo'." A flash of irritation passed across Quirrell's face. Harry figured that he'd be pretty irritated at running all the way from the castle for no good reason, particularly as it seemed that wizards didn't seem to do much in the way of physical exercise.
"Thank you for coming for us anyway, Professor," he said, smiling kindly. "We're very grateful for your efforts." He stuck out his hand for the professor to shake, aiming to show his respect for the man, but Quirrell just looked at the offending appendage, grimaced, and started to walk off back to the castle.
"You tried," Tracey said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Harry lowered his hand and nodded.
"How did you get to us so quickly?" he asked, looking up at the tall gamekeeper.
"Thestrals," Hagrid said brightly. At Harry's confused face, he decided to elaborate further. "Thestrals pull the carriages. I guess yeh can't see them yet. Blackwing 'ere came to find me in the forest." Hagrid gestured just behind him where some straps seemed to be hanging from thin air and Harry made a mental note to look up what a Thestral was the next time he was around a book on magical creatures. "I was gatherin' murkweed fer Pr'fessor Sprout, see? Grows better'n in the greenhouses." He held open the sack he was carrying to show a mass of dark leaves.
Neville nodded at Hagrid's explanation and struck up a conversation about the plant. Listening in, Harry found out that the plant was very good at drawing in light from its surroundings and needed to be kept in the darkness of Hagrid's sack to be effective. Neville brought up the need to water the plant in similarly dark conditions and Hagrid relayed high-level details Professor Sprout had told him about its use in Potions, altering the ambient conditions of the brew depending on its preparation. Soon enough, though, they reached the platform of Hogsmeade station.
"Harry, I didn't want ter leave yeh with Pr'fessor Quirrell 'cause I wanted ter introduce meself," Hagrid said, pulling Harry aside before he followed the rest of his group across the bridge to the opposite platform where the doors were located. "I was good friends with yer parents. Yeh look like yer father, yeh know, 'cept yer eyes. Yeh have yer mother's eyes." Hagrid's crinkled eyes shone with unshed tears and Harry was touched at the emotion.
"I'd love to get to know you better, Mr Hagrid," Harry said, smiling at the man, still looking up despite the fact that Hagrid was crouching before him. There was a slightly awkward pause before he continued. "I, er, the train's waiting for me though."
"Oh, er, right. How about visitin' fer tea when yeh come back after Christmas?"
"That sounds lovely."
