Authors note: I do not own Harry Potter
Though he had enjoyed the slight break that Christmas had brought to his life, he appreciated the return to the monotony that lessons brought back to his life. That, and the return of his friends into his life.
He recognised that he missed them, and hoped that they had missed him in return. So when the carriages returned to the school gates, Harry was there, in front of that great portcullis, waiting for them to come back to him.
The reunions they had weren't tearful, but the emotions that Harry felt as he absorbed the return of his kith unto his life.
However, he had ultimately decided to keep the incident with the mirror a secret. What he had seen in his false reflection was not something he particularly wished to spread around. What had happened those nights were for him, and him alone. Though because of what he had seen, his nightmares had become worse than usual, and he felt more on edge than he usually was.
He was happy though; having these people back in his life was a boon to his fragile psyche. He had spent so long in his early childhood being told he was abandoned for his worthlessness, and that part of him that was desperate for someone to need him as much as he needed them was always there in his mind.
When Katie had hugged him tightly, he knew that he had at least one person that he just knew would help him. It may have been considered immature of him to place his trust in someone so heavily, but his fragility practically gave him no other option.
"I take it you loved the present I got you," she giggled cheekily.
Harry glanced around nervously, "Don't tell anyone, but..." His smile could have lit up the mountains. "It's the best thing I've ever had."
The days after went by quickly. Oliver Wood demanded their 3 days a week training, and Harry had realised he had become lax about his intention to immerse himself in the wonders of magic. 'There is always more that could be done', he would think to himself.
"Devil's Snare," Sprout exclaimed. "Nasty piece of work this one. Many a Witch or Wizard have fallen prey to its grip. Anyone here able to tell me how it is that one can handle," she pointed at the minuscule vine in the plant pot in front of her, "Such a violent, yet surprisingly common, vine?"
She looked pointedly at in Neville's direction, knowing exactly that he would be the one to come to in order to answer her question. Of course, she could have gone to the ever-present raised hand belonging to Hermione Granger, but she liked to play fair with her students.
"Sunlight," he didn't stutter; Herbology was his true element. "Or fire."
"Excellent Mr Longbottom, take 5 points for Gryffindor."
"Good one Nev," Fay whispered.
He looked away modestly at the praise. Harry wasn't having any of it. "No, she's right Neville. Sprout always gives you more points for answering than anyone else, even Hermione."
Harry was quite pleased with himself for being the first one to get Neville to smile that year.
"Have you two noticed that Malfoy hasn't been doing anything... more horrible than usual lately," Harry murmured one evening atop the Astronomy Tower.
Fay looked away from her sketch of the Olympus Mons, quill sideways in her mouth. She pointed the tip at her lip as she scrunched her face up in thought. "It is a bit strange isn't it?" She glanced out of the corner of her eye, a wary scan of the area. "In fact, most of the Snakes have been a bit quiet."
Harry nodded, thinking hard at when the last time he had had a serious altercation with the House of cunning was. Besides the all too common sneers and general insults, he had no severe issue with any of them for a while now.
He wasn't going to complain, far from it, as he took in the sniggering form of Draco Malfoy. If he was honest with himself, he had no issue with the boy when he first met him. He had come across slightly bigoted, but he had lived for 10 years with Vernon Dursley, and the man was not the paragon of virtue. It seemed as though Draco was the exception, not the rule for Slytherin House. While they were more secluded than the other Houses, which appeared to be more of a safety net.
There had been a couple of Potions lessons where Harry had been partnered with a Slytherin girl – Tracey Davis – and he had got on with her quite well. She had been less subdued than her housemates. He did not dare to use the word 'bubbly', but definitely came close to it. He just assumed that Draco Malfoy was your stereotypical, rich-kid, bully.
"He's picking on Neville a bit more though," Harry thought aloud.
Fay winced at this. She herself was no stranger to the forked barbs from the boy, as it came pride of place by being friends with Harry Potter, but Neville's attacks were more personal in nature.
"I can't stand the prat, Harry. He's a big bully."
Harry sighed, scratching at his arm. The bruises had long since healed, but it was becoming a habit whenever one of his bane's became mentioned in conversation. "I hate bullies, Fay. I really do. I don't know if Draco is really a bad person or not. He hasn't tried to really hurt me."
Fay shot round, a wild look as she glared at him. "Harry Potter," she hissed, "Don't defend him. Don't you dare."
He looked down at his feet, silent as the grave. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't think everyone's all bad." The look on his face was one she couldn't quite place. It seemed like he wanted to say something to her, but was physically restraining himself from doing exactly that.
She felt like she had just kicked a wounded puppy, the way he looked was almost heart-breaking. She sidled round to his side, a friendly grin on her face, and put him into a half hug. She knew that that would always cheer him up. "I'm sorry for that Harry, but you have to stop thinking like that. Look at me, I'm your friend aren't I?" He nodded. "So let me be your friend. Put that idiot out of your mind and put it towards something different. Like maybe helping me out with Transfiguration."
Fay approved of his laugh. It was better than the discouraging episodes he was partial to falling in to.
Harry wasn't sure of what to make of Professor Quirrell.
Every time he walked into the man's classroom, he would develop a massive headache. It became so bad that he would have to visit Madam Pomfrey after each lesson for some kind of pain relief. She had become so concerned by the frequency of the visits that she had personally visited the professor to see if there could be an underlying reason.
One night at the end of January, Dumbledore himself had come to Harry in the midst of breakfast, Katie looking on concernedly as to what the Headmaster himself had come to talk to him about.
"Harry my boy, how are you doing this morning?"
Harry squeezed Katie's hand before peering up to the genial looking man. "I'm doing fine thank you, Professor."
"Ah, good, good. And to you Miss Bell? It's always heartening to see such affection between my students." He gained a wistful look on his face as if seeing something that no one else could.
"Um, I'm doing okay Professor Dumbledore. If you don't mind me asking, why are you over here?"
Harry nudged her side gently, concern on his face as Dumbledore laughed lightly. "Gryffindor always had the brave and foolhardy in I suppose." Katie blushed in slight embarrassment, realising she had been a little rude. "I'm just here to tell Mr Potter about my discussion with your Defence teacher." He sat down on the Ravenclaw table, facing over the other side of the Gryffindor one so they could all talk comfortably.
"I spoke with Professor Quirrell last night, and he believes the issue may be to do with a connection between Dark Magic and your scar. Now, it isn't something he believes should be too much of an issue. He claims that in his travels, he has met with many different cultures of Wizard, and came to a logical conclusion that your scar is resonating with the Dark Magic of some of his item collection."
Katie knew that Harry did not like to discuss his scar. She remembered one night in the common room where a boy in her year, Cormac McLaggen, started asking him questions about 'that night', to a quickly hushed room. Harry had sat there, blank face, as McLaggen got closer and closer to him, eventually downright demanding information. She still remembered the look of surprise he had after Angelina stormed over to him and left a red handprint on his face.
It was a sore subject for Harry to deal with, and everyone knew it. It was one of the reasons why he had been so hard hit by the insults by the Slytherin's.
"So what does that mean for me Professor?" asked Harry.
"For now, we have come to the conclusion that it may be better for you to use that time for some extra, private study. This comes with trust though, Mr Potter, and is not to be abused. Not that I believe you would. I am aware of your high standards of course."
Harry sighed in relief. He may have tried to hide it well from his friends, but the pain was beginning to become unbearable after the end of the holidays. "I promise I won't abuse it, Professor."
Katie knew it was more than that. Harry was always struggling with the most basic of Martial Magic – the knockback jinx was more of a tickle than anything else apparently. So as Dumbledore walked off, whistling some tune, she just shook her head, knowing at least it would take a lot to bring him out of his now good mood.
His good mood lasted throughout that whole day. So much so that when McGonagall saw him walk into her classroom, she jumped on it straight away. "Well, seems someone's in a lovely mood today Mr Potter."
"Of course Professor, I am just ready and waiting for my favourite lesson to begin."
This drew some surprised stares from those who knew him well; Harry never involved himself with banter. So this experience was something new to them all. Neville and Fay shared an identical look, with Fay taking the seat next to him. He had to help her improve on the subject after all.
McGonagall, to her credit, didn't respond, just smiled internally at how her (secret) favourite student was acting. For him to behave in such a way brought warmth to her heart, for she could still remember quite clearly seeing the son of Lily and James shaking with fright at everything around him on his first day there.
Ever since she had seen him left on his Aunt's doorstep, a time that still racked her with guilt 10 years later, she had wondered what kind of a boy would be taking his steps into the Wizarding World. He had... surprised her. He was smaller than what she was expecting and acted nothing like his parents. Yes, he had their look, but he didn't have their temperaments. He seemed to her to be... damaged. It was as if those (awful) muggles had beaten him down.
She had seen many abused children come in and out of Hogwarts over her tenure at Hogwarts, and she could recognise the signs relatively accurately. That night after the sorting, she had gone apocalyptic at the Headmaster. He had simply sighed and poured the two of them a glass of Ogden's best. He had then proceeded to sombrely explain again the reasons why he had to remain at his relatives, though she noticed something during his monologue. The whole time his hand had been shaking.
"Today, we will be going over the larger transformation of inanimate wood into inanimate metal." She summoned intricately carved Griffins over to her desk. "As you can all see, there is far more detail on the objects, and as an added difficulty, there are multiple wood types blended into it."
Harry nodded, going over his notes he looked over what had been set for their homework, as it detailed exactly this issue. Of course, this is where things started getting trickier, yet it was only first-year material. He still remembered when McGonagall had shown her anger in class for the first time at Seamus for his lack of concentration; he had aimed incorrectly and turned his desk into a large rusted block of metal. It seemed as though the science of Transfiguration required the precision of timing and power that needed to be almost second nature for the one casting it.
Minerva McGonagall was always proud of her lions, especially when they performed well in her class. Hermione Granger had by far the best grades she had consistently seen since Lily Evans, but it was Harry's skill in the art that always had her the proudest. It wasn't even an hour in, and he was staring at her expectantly, a shiny Griffin standing proud and tall before him.
The good mood that had been started by Albus Dumbledore, noted by Minerva McGonagall, and nurtured and loved by his friends, was all washed away by simply being in the presence of Severus Snape.
Before he came to Hogwarts, Harry had been thoroughly overjoyed at the concept of Potions. He had studied and studied and studied. He tried so hard to be able to get to a good enough standard that he would be competent enough to impress his teacher.
One minute in Snape's class had smashed that initial joy into a million little pieces. He was vile and vicious. Yes, he was like that with all houses, and it wasn't just him that suffered due to the red and gold lining his robes, but there appeared to be some kind of vendetta against him personally. He had gone to McGonagall after that disastrous Halloween night at the behest – demand – of Katie, but she had done little to dissuade his thoughts on the matter.
He was constantly turning in failed potions to be graded, and he couldn't just blame it on Neville's poor skill in it, as he was partnered with others sometimes.
Just being in Snape's presence set him on edge, and even Tracey had taken umbrage at the behaviour exhibited by the Potions Master on more than one occasion towards the last Potter. He would constantly berate him, and not just on his potions capabilities, but also so his 'attitude' and 'lack of respect'. It also seemed, to him at least, that Snape actively encouraged the Slytherin's in his class to ridicule and attempt to humiliate him.
Harry would get no answer from anyone he would ask about for the reasons behind such reprehensible behaviour toward his person. He knew that if he wasn't in class with his two best friends, and didn't have the Quidditch team to back to for support, then he would have remained that insignificant fragile boy, or worse even.
"Please Potter, don't detract the pointless efforts of your house with your unyielding incompetence any more than you already are." His target just kept his head down, arms shaking as he cut up his ingredients, knowing that he was making a mess. "Tut, tut, tut. Such hopeless preparation for your potion, Potter. But then again, why would I even be surprised by such a sight." He just wouldn't stop. "Your father was much the same, boy."
Glass shattered across the room, cutting deep into the ones who had been near any of the shelves where ingredients were stored. Snape smiled victoriously. "Detention, Potter."
Harry always managed to get out of these detentions, but Snape appeared to get some sort of twisted pleasure at trying to make Harry's life as miserable as possible. It had almost stopped outside of lessons, most likely due to his constant companions, but it didn't stop him when he could get away with it.
When Fay had escorted Harry to McGonagall's office later as a witness, they had left the woman with promises that the detention would be revoked and that he wasn't in any trouble, Fay spoke what had been dwelling in her mind. "I guess I was wrong, Harry. Snape's the real bully."
Neville and Fay were sat together in the following History of Magic lesson, leaving the only empty seat in the classroom pairing together Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
Katie had explained to him that she was most likely jealous of how quickly he accomplished their spells in class, as well as the fact that he managed to keep up with her academically.
"But Katie I don't understand. It's not like I'm trying to show her up or anything. I practice and practice and I just... get it. The spells. The charms and the transfigurations. It's like I understand what needs to be done."
His friend just sighed as she tried to explain it to him. After being around him for so long, sometimes she forgot how clueless he could be about other people's reasoning's, even if he could read them like an open book.
"Harry, she probably feels something inferior to you. She probably has something she wants to prove. Maybe she just wants to be the best, and you're good at magic and it just upsets her."
His face had screwed up in indignation at this. "That's not my fault."
"No, Harry, it isn't. Just take it with a pinch of salt. Try to be understanding. She doesn't dislike you, she's just jealous is all."
Now he was sat next to her he tried to take a good look at her in an attempt to try and understand her.
She had a wild, but untamed look about her, with overly large front teeth and frizzy unkempt hair, 'not like I could say anything about that'. She just looked... plain. But she was the only one other than him who managed to stay awake in this lesson. That showed a strong enough will to keep going, and he knew there was that incident with the troll back on that night. He also knew that she seemed to be as obsessed with magic as he was.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she whispered, staring intently at Binns as he droned on and on about some kind of Witch Trial. Really, it should have been fascinating, being taught this side of history by a ghost of all things. To his dismay, nothing could ever go his way.
"Sorry," he whispered back, reverting back to his normal reserved self.
That appeared to be that, as the lesson got underway, though Harry was having a slight issue in that it appeared one of the twins had replaced his actual quill with a sugar one. He sighed as he despondently began sucking on it.
To say he was surprised when Hermione nudged him would be considered an understatement. He cocked his eye in question at the gesture. The quill was pressed firmly into his left hand as Harry was rooted there in shock.
"You're welcome."
Harry looked upon her with kind eyes, murmuring his gentle appreciation. Maybe she didn't really hate him as he had supposed. There was always a different side to the coin it seemed. She may have been a bit bossy, and incredibly aggravating. But he could see she was not as bad as some people may have thought.
Hermione's friend, and the veritably annoying younger sibling of his friends Fred and George, Ron Weasley, was someone that Harry could not get along with.
He was an affable boy, easy-going and loyal it seemed, but he was rife with negative traits. Harry tried to get on with him when he had to, mainly to appease the twins and to make an easy life for himself.
It was for this reason that he tried to play nice with the boy when Professor Flitwick paired them together one Thursday during one of his study group sessions.
Ron was good friends with Seamus and Dean, this Harry knew, but everyone knew that the action with the troll had endeared him (somehow) with Hermione Granger, and this was the only reason why the redhead was 'wasting' his free afternoon to do work.
"Today, we will be practicing the varying degrees of the Lighting Charm. Now, older students, I expect you will have this down to a tee, so I would like you to focus on manipulating the varying degrees of luminosity, as well as attempting to create differing degrees of focus. Younger years, please try to accurately represent the light upon the wand to a standard light form. I don't want any students here sent to the hospital wing if that's okay with you."
Professor Flitwick was an extremely likeable man, so much so in fact that even the most extreme Slytherin's had little to say in negativity about him. He was truly a 'hands on' form of teacher, designed to bring out the best in his students. He knew how to interact with them on a personal level. He had greatly endeared himself to Harry early on, and Harry respected him enough to try to make these sessions as much as he could. Unfortunately neither Neville nor Fay would follow him, although he was happy to see both Alicia and Angelina on the other side of the room.
"I don't get what the guy's saying," Ron grunted, far too close for Harry's comfort.
Harry shifted his body as far away as he could, not liking many people in his personal space except those he trusted to be there. "Professor Flitwick's example was quite concise Ron."
"You really aren't like what people thought you'd be Harry." The boy shook his head, serious dissatisfaction lining his face. "You're too much like Hermione it's annoying. I mean, you do Quidditch well but come on, there's no adventure. I looked for you ya know, on the night of the troll, but I had to go on my own."
"You didn't have to go on your own Ron. There were teachers that you could have asked. Anyway," he tried to move the conversation back to their practice of the Lumos Charm, which he was attempting to improve the intensity of the light to a manageable level. "He wants us to try to create the Lumos charm at a position where we can cast it..."
"That's another thing. You're like the best Seeker in Hogwarts, but instead of, like, being all Quidditch mad, it is as if you aren't all that interested. I mean, you don't even know anything about the Cannons!"
Harry groaned, his vast patience helping him to keep a level head as he realised that this was going to be a long session. It also had the added misfortune of reminding him that he had practice straight after dinner.
He put his head in his hand as he listened to Ron drone on about the Chudley Cannons, while he tried his best to get his picky wand core to play nice for once.
When Neville Longbottom was got his Hogwarts letter, he had been unable to stop smiling for a week.
He had fantasised about the moment he could go to be able to do magic since he was tiny; his grandmother had always feared he was a squib, so it was doubly amazing for him.
When he met Hermione Granger on the train, she had been incredible assertive in her approach to him, and for a second he thought he was back home, before returning back to what was then the present. His imagined weakness towards the sensitivity of magic had blasted his confidence to smithereens in his short life, and the constant comparisons towards his father, Frank, had grated what little he had into a fine powder. So he followed Hermione's lead.
Until Harry.
Harry had not cared if he could do magic well or not. He had been polite and friendly, and instead of putting him down for his weaknesses, he instead tried his hardest to bring him up to his own level. Sure, that would take a lot of work, but Harry didn't choose to pull punches; he had treated him as if he was completely capable of performing magic without any issue.
At first, Neville had been unsure what to think, but he began to see improvements. That was when he realised something. Harry wasn't pitying him like so many others, nor was he demanding that he could do better like Hermione, McGonagall, or his grandmother. He just treated him as Neville. He simply treated him as his friend.
To Neville, this felt empowering, and it made him want to reciprocate that friendship. It didn't take long for Harry to start to open up to him; it wasn't with words, but with action and feeling that this was shown.
Now, Neville was observant, a fact that would surprise many if they found out, and he had been around Harry long enough to see that there was something wrong with him. He wouldn't let people get close to him. He would flinch violently if they touched him, and his emotional responses to someone like Malfoy insult him personally was drastic and excessive. No, Neville knew that there was something wrong, but he was only 11 years old. He wasn't experienced enough in the world to understand what the issue could be, so instead, he did the one thing he could that he knew in his heart would be the right thing to do.
He couldn't be like Katie, who at this point was practically Harry's shadow, and he couldn't have that free-flowing way that he had with Fred and George. So instead he was simply... there. He was there for him, and he knew that Harry knew that he was there for him. If that was all he could do to help then he would do it to the best of his ability.
Harry had been there for him, whether he knew it or not, and as such, he would be there for his friend.
"Hey Harry, Exploding Snap?"
She had seen his scar when she got onto the boat behind him. She had not meant to stare at it, but every child knew who Harry Potter was, but it seemed like a fairy tale more than anything else. A wonder boy who destroyed the worst Dark Lord in living memory? And he was going to be in her year at Hogwarts? Pull the other one.
But there he was, sitting in front of her. He looked tiny; she was small, she knew that, but he was even smaller than she was. And he seemed so frail. He had caught her staring at her scar, but it seemed the better option than the sight of pity she knew she was showing. This body she had seen in front of her... it appeared so unnatural.
As the months went by, she saw that he was skilled at magic, extremely skilled, even if his wand was a bit screwy. She had seen his ability to quickly get charms, and don't even get her started on his incredible ability with transfiguration. That seemed a little too unfair for her tastes.
But she saw how he dealt with the bullies: Snape and Malfoy.
Her heartfelt like it was breaking every time she saw him cry, and this hidden part of her wanted to just hold him and not let go. Fortunately for her public image, Katie Bell got there first. However, she was more than surprised when his best friend came up to her. Even more so when Harry accepted her with (sort of) open arms.
The complexity that was Harry Potter began to slowly unravel in front of her. She could tell there was something wrong, as could the rest of his circle of friends, but she felt like she could have done more to help. That she could do more to help. So she did. She became his friend, made everything natural, and in the process discovered the sweet, caring, noble soul that was someone she could easily say was her best friend. She knew that Harry would always see his friends as equals, never putting one higher than the other, because he was fair like that. Then again, she would muse, his interaction with Katie would always be different because she got to that point first. If Fay herself had been there, it would have been herself in Katie's shoes. Harry just had that natural charisma, which innate gravitas that couldn't help but make someone gravitate towards him. There were those that fought against it, such as his detractors, but when one got to just know him. It was like a brand new feeling.
She wanted to be his friend, so she was. She wanted to care for him, so she did. And she could feel herself improving; it was not just academically, but also in her own self.
Her friend was still an enigma and was still someone who was crying out for help. So she, and the rest of his friends would be there to answer the call when he needed them.
"Come on Harry, you really need to eat before start the day."
Author's notes
So this chapter is, I don't want to use the word 'filler', but is just a behind the scenes of how Harry is developing in his schooling. And there's the little bit of character relationship development in the inner thoughts of both Neville and Fay, as well as some of the other characters in relation to Harry. I think I've shown the constant that is Harry and Katie enough for the moment. Got to begin focusing on how others feel. Next chapter will see the story develop a little bit further.
I've also realised that although I want there to be dialogue, I'm not going to force it through. If it fits in the scene, then I'm going to put it in. But I've come to realise that that isn't what my story is about. If I can make as meaningful development with more description and still have them come to the same conclusion, then surely that's great. It doesn't mean that the characters won't talk to each other, just that there will be less of it than some may be used to. And come on, you've all read Harry Potter. If I put in every canon conversation, then I may as well just direct you to reread the books.
I personally don't believe that Dumbledore was a bad guy. Misguided maybe, but you have to remember that he has more than just Harry's life to think about. He has hundreds of children that come through his school in the time he's been there. Kill one life to save thousands. It doesn't mean he enjoys it, he manipulates this is true, but he always appears to try to make the best out of an extremely awful situation.
As I started this chapter, I finally got out my bucket-of-bolts laptop and decided to type this out on that instead of my phone. More fool me for waiting too long I guess. Must be the reason for such quick dispensing of these chapters. I'm even surprising myself here.
Next Chapter: The Forest
Stay safe
KhaosOnion