Authors note: I do not own Harry Potter.
So, I'm just going to put this here instead of at the bottom, but it needs to be said that this Harry begins the story as a damaged child. There will be ups and downs, but he will grow stronger for it. Now, Snape and Malfoy are just petty bullies, and I can see how Harry's passiveness could be seen as annoying. However, this is totally Harry-centric, and I cannot stand either Snape's or Malfoy's characters, but how they act with my version of Harry in the picture is something that could ruffle a few feathers. As I think I've mentioned before, my opinion is that I'm not going to intend to write a story where the main character has such a terrible outcome.
But for a tl;dr point, if you are either a Snape of a Malfoy fan then this story won't be for you I'm afraid but it will not be shown for a while yet.
But the way Harry's been acting will have less of a focus now that his weaknesses have been established, as well as everyone else's interactions with him. As of now, we will still be seeing Harry's emotions etc., but there will be greater plot development.
"Hagrid, what is that?"
He was down at Hagrid's hut on a cold February afternoon, attempting to munch on one of his rock hard rock cakes.
"Oh tha'? Tha's just- just somethin' I'm trying ta hatch," the man waved off in an attempt to dismiss the conversation's route.
"Hagrid... that is quite a large egg." Harry looked pointedly at the golden-brown egg boiling in his friend's hearth. He wanted to ask him point blank what mess Hagrid had gotten into here as he lamented not having someone like Fay or Katie, who were a bit more direct with their approaches that he was. "Hagrid..."
"If I tell ya, ya cannot tell a soul Harry. Promise me." He looked ready to burst with apparent excitement.
"I can't promise that Hagrid." Hagrid sighed at the response, but Harry was having none of it. If his friend was doing something dangerous then he could not in his right mind keep such information to only himself.
"I look at ya now Harry, and I see a much more confiden' boy than when I had yer letter." He grinned at Harry's rosy cheeks. "Yer really comin' inta yer own Harry. I blame those Weasley twins."
They shared a small grin, after which Harry quickly frowned. "Stop trying to distract me Hagrid, what's the egg?"
"Ya know, yer jus' like Lily there."
This stopped Harry in his tracks. All thoughts of what Hagrid was up to out of his head. "My mum?" he whispered.
The booming laughter rang throughout the small hut as Hagrid wiped an eye, reminiscing on memories long since etched in his head. "Haha oh yeah definitely. Yer mum would be chasin' those boys around the castle, hair flamin' behind her. Tha' face ya jus' pulled. Tha' was all Lily righ' there. I'm tellin' ya, if she had found ou' I was hatchin' a dragon in me hut she would have done jus' like you too."
"A dragon?! Hagrid! Why are you hatching a dragon? In a wooden hut?"
"Oops. Maybe should 'ave kept me mouth shut there."
"You need to get rid of it Hagrid. I don't know much about the law, but even I know that it's illegal to breed dragons. You'll get into so much trouble. It needs to go Hagrid!"
The man picked up some books that had been removed from the library, showing all titles to do with rearing different breeds of dragons. "Look, I've go' all these different books. I've been properly studyin' how to raise one. I've always wanted a dragon Harry."
Harry indeed knew of Hagrid's obsession with dangerous creatures, dragons especially, but this was completely ridiculous to him. How did he think he was going to get away with this? 'Was he planning on bringing in to the Great Hall a 20 foot long fire breathing dragon? Oh Hagrid, what are we going to do?'
He felt sick, knowing what he had to do; Hagrid couldn't keep the dragon but he could not simply go up to someone and just blurt it out. He needed to be subtle about this. When he shortly after gave his short goodbye to the man, he could feel the butterflies trying to claw his way out of his stomach.
His route took him directly to McGonagall's office in the hope that he could catch her there before dinner began shortly. He was dreading this conversation, wondering if Flitwick would have been a better approach to make, before slamming down on his convictions as he realised that no, McGonagall would be the best one to deal with in her position as Deputy Headmistress.
He sat on a stone bench placed opposite the door to the room, having knocked already to no response. His thoughts roiled around his head. 'What kind of friend am I?' The dichotomy of opinion as to what should be the right thing to do ran rampant inside him.
One side was completely loath to betray the kind, simple man who rescued him from a life of despair. Who had stood by his side as the confused and alone boy he once was ambled uncomprehendingly all over Diagon Alley, directing him to wherever he needed to go. The man who was always an unbiased and open ear, who had cheered the loudest when he took the pitch during his debut match as Gryffindor Seeker.
The other part of him, the rational side, knew that he had to be hard to save his friend. He had to tell McGonagall so as to get Hagrid in the least amount of trouble as he could. He had seen the two of them be friendly with each other, and knew that his Transfiguration professor enjoyed positive relations with the Gamekeeper. His hope was that she liked both of them enough to be discreet about it so as to cause the least amount of pain.
He was so deep in thought that he did not take notice of his target calling his name until she stood directly in front of him.
"Mr Potter, I've been asking what the issue is for a good minute now. Is anything the matter?"
He hesitated, 'It's now or never.' "Professor, I think I may have a problem."
Minerva McGonagall was extremely proud of her student. This boy who sat in front of her, nibbling nervously on a biscuit as she mulled over what she had been told, was not the same child that had performed with such skill in his first act of transfiguration. That boy had been practically shaking like a leaf, jumping at every loud band or inconvenient shout. She supposed that his circle of friends had been the one to detract the negativity within his life. This act that he was performing now was a brave one.
She knew how much Hagrid meant to him, and just be looking at him now, she could see evidence that that pessimistic, downtrodden side of him was still there, bubbling beneath the surface. 'Poor boy must be near drowning in guilt.' She frowned as she thought what best to do. The obvious decision would be to go to Dumbledore, but first she had one of her old lions to write to. Hopefully he wouldn't be too adverse as to gaining another dragon to look after.
"I'm very proud of you today Mr Potter. It takes a lot of courage to stand up to one of your friends. I know that this may not be what you wish to hear, but what happens here is truly for the best. You have completely done the correct thing in bringing this to my attention, and have a plan in mind to assist our wayward groundskeeper." She smiled at the look of relief on her lion. "Take 30 points for Gryffindor. I truly am proud of you Harry."
The following morning, Harry was enjoying his breakfast; Katie had decided to throw pancakes onto his plate, and he was enjoying the sweet taste of American style pancakes covered in maple syrup and butter. Usually he would never touch something so... garish to his palette, but the older girls had deemed his bad mood unnaturally infectious and wished to alter it to something far more bearable. This was plied out with a large helping of sugar it seemed.
When Hedwig landed to deliver a message from Flitwick inviting him to one of their tea sessions with an offer for his friends to join them, Neville and Fay agreed to accompany him. He lost his appetite almost immediately, deigning instead to play around with his food, fork lazily smoothing out the butter/syrup mix into some kind of unholy soup.
His foul mood carried on throughout the day, and it was only when he was sat around a familiar table with his two friends next to him that he managed his first smile since opening the letter. He had looked up to nod towards his favourite professor, and in doing so spotted the maudlin form of Rubeus Hagrid moping in his seat at the staff table.
His friends had supported his decision to inform the staff of the 'incredible stupidity' as Angelina had described it. It seemed as though his instincts of the legality of dragon breeding being highly regulated was actually underestimated, and could have had more serious measures acted on if the wrong person had discovered it before Harry had.
Flitwick, it seemed, was of the same mind. "Harry my boy, you haven't done anything wrong, and Hagrid knows this. He isn't upset with you. It appeared to have hatched last night and he has... taken to the little thing." He shook his head in exasperation. "What was that man thinking? A dragon in a school, he's incredibly lucky that it was only a singed beard he got, and not a charred first year."
Fay nudged his side, a knowing smile as she spoke her reassurances that he was not in fact a bad person for telling on his friend.
"Miss Dunbar is correct Harry. In fact, when Professor Sprout heard of what you had done, she remarked that such a thing was 'Very Hufflepuff of you'." His squeaky laughter began to lift Harry's spirits. "Of course, seeing your dedication to your studies, I do believe that the Hat should have placed you in my own house. Such a shame really."
His grin belied his words, and Harry's normal giggling laugh broke through. "The hat had said that I would have been a good fit for all houses, but decided to put me in Gryffindor."
"Even Slytherin?" Neville asked.
He nodded in agreement. "I don't think that I would have liked it much there though."
Flitwick wondered to himself how true that statement would have been. The snakes would have eaten him alive in that house. The stronger ones would have been able to manipulate the boy into their own mould. Hufflepuff or Gryffindor would have been the optimal houses he pondered silently as the three others broke into conversation, smiles all round. Though, Hufflepuff would have drowned him as an individual. 'Gryffindor has given him the ability to become an individual. He has such loyal friends, but in Gryffindor he has developed. He no longer is the wide-eyed lad who was shaking in his boots on his first day'.
The small man took a sip of his tea, enjoying the possibility he had to see such a mind as Harry's come slowly into its own in front of his eyes. 'Lily, you would be proud of the man your son is becoming.'
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"Detention Potter!"
Harry had no idea what had happened. But at that moment Draco Malfoy was laid out on the floor of the Potions classroom, and Harry was standing above him, red in the face as he felt such an unpleasant burning sensation flow from his head to his heart.
At first he thought that his admittedly terrible potion had flown over him, or that Malfoy had hexed him. As his mind quickly caught up to his actions, he realised that what he was actually feeling, was anger. And he did not like it one bit.
The lesson had begun like every other one in Snape's classroom. He was berated and put down. His potion making skill was brought into question, and not for the first time he wondered how such a vile man could be put in front of a room full of young minds and allow it to be considered acceptable how he treated ¾'s of them.
Malfoy had been pestering him since they had been waiting in the dungeon corridor. First he had been trying to get under Fay's skin, but there was no originality in what he was saying, so Fay had simply given him a withering look, as if he meant less to her than the dirt beneath her feet.
Then he had changed tactic, going after Neville. The poor boy, however, was always in a jittery mood whenever Snape and Potions were involved, so he was so far deep in his own mind that no insult got through to him.
When Malfoy began to get redder and redder, shaking with barely restrained anger at how his petty attempts to get a rise out of him and his friends were failing, it brought a sense of satisfaction to Harry. He had used this strategy on the Dursley's before, when he read the advice to ignore a bully just made them angrier as they had no justification to continue their assaults. He had forgotten back then of the wrath of Vernon Dursley, and of his ignorant stupidity. Yet here it showed on the face of a spoiled brat of a boy; it showed Harry that he was simply another person, just like him.
He had forgotten that Draco Malfoy had access to magic. He had taken his wand out, and began making hissed threats that only he could hear. He would have ignored them if not for one reason: Severus Snape. The man would let his Snakes get away with murder, especially if it meant that Harry got to suffer for it.
The pressure began to build, and the sensitivity he had been feeling, an ever growing one centred in his scar these past few days, flooded his system, and a burst of magic erupted from him directly into the source of his current troubles.
He did not know exactly what it was he had done, but Malfoy was unconscious on the floor, and he had never seen Snape so angry.
He ran. He grabbed his things and ran away even as he saw Malfoy grinning at him, eyes closed. It was one of victory.
'They planned this! He planned this!'
He threw all of his suspicions at McGonagall and Flitwick. "We believe you Mr Potter, but we cannot very well prove it."
He had been played. His schoolyard bully had been relatively quiet, and now he knew why. Briefly he wondered if Snape had been involved. Were all of the Snakes? He did not know, and he found that he did not care. He received sympathies from his circle, but all he could do was kick himself.
Of course, when Malfoy was found upside down, covered in feathers and bright neon pink paint, the words, 'Daddy's Boy' plastered on the wall he was stuck to. He only had to look to the twins with an amused look to know that this was all their doing.
And Snape had finally got his wish. He managed to assign detention to Harry Potter for the first time, and have it stick.
Saturday night was going to be fun it seemed, but first he had to win the Quidditch match. 'If Gryffindor win the cup, I'm sure that their faces would be a sight to see.'
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
When Harry stood out on the Quidditch pitch the next day, the others found his determination and new and refreshing part of him that they hadn't seen before. They had witnessed his aptitude towards magic, and how he would focus his whole being into the application towards it. But this was definitely something that they had not expected.
When Wood gave his pre match pep talk, Harry had sat there all ears, a look that shouted of something he had to prove. Katie had marvelled at where that frightened young cub had gone, barely realising that he had changed before her very eyes. Of course, she would take some pride in this, feeling that it was partially due to her nurturing him into becoming a much tougher person.
As he kicked off the ground, a friendly smirk at the opposing Seeker, those who knew him best too admired his improvements. There was a confidence he had which usually lay just under the skin, which came full force when he danced through the sky.
Harry knew that the night was to be awful; though he was to partake in his detention under Hagrid's watchful gaze, he wanted to have the night start on a high. He was going to win this match.
Part of him enjoyed the flying. It was a second nature to him, and it was devoid of any of the concerns that were involved in the world below him. Another part felt as though he could help so many people, because no matter the development he had in life, he was still so afraid of people's judgement. He craved the affection that was afforded to him by those he cared about, and at no point did he want to disappoint him.
In the air... he was special, and he knew it.
It wasn't arrogance, but a quiet, healthy confidence that had him flying circles around the Hufflepuff Seeker: Cedric Diggory. The other boy was a good flyer, that was easily seen, but Harry was far, far better.
The Nimbus felt like an extension of his body. He would make the most minor of adjustments and the broom would follow his intent. His head was turning in calculated micro movements separate from the rest of his body. Gold fluttered there, out of the corner of his eye. 10 minutes in, and the Snitch had finally been spotted.
He drifted towards the general direction; Diggory was smart as he kept Harry in his sight, always elevated higher than him so as to have a greater potential for movement if either spotted the winning prize.
Harry looped a small circle around an opposing beater. The act was so glaring that it drew Diggory toward him, believing that he had spotted the snitch. It was enough of a distraction that Harry blasted past by him speeding the other way. Within several seconds, Gryffindor had won the game 310-50.
The elation that came with the victory was a rush that Harry couldn't put his finger on.
"Well done Potter, good game." He shook the opposing Seeker's hand, matching grins at the match that both had appreciated. "Next time though, you better watch out," he said genially.
"We'll see Diggory," Harry responded playfully. He was going to relish this moment as the last of his truly innocent days at Hogwarts. For that night he was to endure what the real world could painfully offer.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Filch escorted him to Hagrid's hut for 10 o'clock in the evening, a time when Harry was desperately wishing that he could be curled up in bed asleep instead of traipsing off to his unwarranted punishment.
"Here he is Hagrid. No matter how much I plead, they won't let me string the students up. They won't be committing any more acts like his after that now would they?"
The nasally laugh came out more like a wheeze, and it caused Harry's body to shudder in slight disgust. Though he did pity Filch in some ways, he could partially understand why the Weasley twins were always trying to make his life a near misery. Almost.
"Yeah, yeah Filch, I'll take it from here. You've done yer bit." The man nodded at Hagrid and turned around to walk back up to the castle. It looked so different under the starlight, and the moon's beams were striking the walls with such a pale light that he couldn't help but stare and reflect on its beauty.
"Now Harry," they hadn't spoken properly since the dragon incident, and while he sounded hurt, it didn't appear to be because of the dragon.
'I have been avoiding him.' Harry felt a wave of sadness at how he'd been treating his first ever friend. 'I'll visit him tomorrow.'
"First off, yer flyin' was brilliant today, well done." Harry duplicated the smile sent his way. "Ya jus' like yer dad on a broom. Better I think. Not even 12 years old and flyin' better than some o' tha' pros I reckon." He shook his head, as if to clear away the thoughts that were building in his head.
"So, we've go' a bit of a problem in the forest."
"What kind of a problem Hagrid?"
"See, summin's been killin' the unicorns. Now they're quick blighters, so whatever's been doin' it has gotta be fast too. Me an' Fang 'eard the cries of one earlier, so it's our job ta find it, and put it out of its misery."
He felt sick at hearing this. He knew about Unicorn tail hair being used as wand cores, but it was something else to hear the differences between that, and the concept of it being a physical thing to be harmed.
"Tha' means, we gotta go inta the forest ta find it."
"Wait, Hagrid, the Forbidden Forest? Isn't it, well, Forbidden?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, ya'll have me an' Fang with ya, so it shouldn' be too much of a problem. Jus' stay by my side Harry an' we'll have ya in an' out in no time."
His first steps into said Forbidden Forest weren't as bad as he originally anticipated. The trees grew thick together, and there was a sense of foreboding coming from deep in the inky blackness that permeated his surroundings, but with his wand shining brightly, and Hagrid by his side, it didn't seem all too bad.
He was happily amazed when he met the Centaur's for the first time, marvelling with blatant wonder at such things existing just beyond the school's borders. He followed Hagrid further into the forest, bursting with questions about the denizens of the forest, which was refused by Hagrid to answer. "Can' tell ya Harry. It's a dangerous place, and we won' be stayin' here too long. The blood's getting' thicker. It's nearby."
He could feel the bile rising in his throat. There was something innately beautiful about Unicorns that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It seemed to be deeply ingrained in most cultures that they was incredible creatures that deserved respect and adoration. Hagrid offhandedly mentioned the innocence of the Unicorn's as they were travelling, and he had to agree with him. When he spotted the downed creature, pitifully whinnying in its final death throes, he released the contents of his stomach.
Then the pain hit him like a bolt of lightning.
His scar erupted as a vicious, inhuman scream came from the hooded thing in front of him. His wand vibrated in his hand as he shouted out the incantation for a large burst of light: "Lumos Maxima!"
The thing in front of him screeched even louder, and the pain kept growing and growing, reaching a crescendo of agony even he had never experienced. He thought his brain was going to melt out of his ears as he collapsed to the ground, twitching slightly as he fought through the haze flooding him entirely.
And as soon as it had come it was gone. He lay there sweating, breathing hard into the air as he watched the branches above him conduct an invisible orchestra. He felt large arms lift him up gently, resting him carefully over something soft and warm. He could hear muffled voices as he felt his body shift. Through bleary eyes he could see a centaur both above and below him as he realised that he was upon the back of one of the beings.
He tried to smile reassuringly at where he imagined he could see Hagrid. Before too long his exhaustion caught up with him, and he embraced the sweet silence of unconsciousness.
Author's notes
So now Voldemort is directly viewed. He hasn't been seen or thought of much in this tale as Harry is less of an adventurous type. The stone too hasn't been referenced, but don't worry. There will still be action on that front.
Now with Snape and Malfoy, they will keep being their shitty selves, and try to make Harry's life hell. But as you've seen (especially here I hope), Harry is becoming a stronger person. He's rising above the fools.
I know it's a short chapter, but I've got to admit, I'm getting bored of the first book. I really, really want to get to the fourth book but alas, I refuse to skip straight to the end. Hopefully, those of you liking this story are okay with that. I'll try to make it as good as possible so that you can all enjoy it as much as possible.
Also, it's great to hear how you enjoy this story, and I remembered from my old stories how much pleasure I got from reviewers contemplating how the story will go.
All I'm going to say is that there will be twists and turns from midway in the story. One of the reasons I want to get there as soon as possible.
Oh, and the rating is M for a reason. I haven't just put it there for a safety net. The story will end up getting quite... well I won't ruin it.