Authors note: I do not own Harry Potter
The girls had arrived in the hospital wing early the next morning, worrying when Katie had noticed that Harry wasn't in the common room for them to perform their regular morning ritual. So Katie had gone to the Great Hall alone, the thought of her wayward friend at the forefront of her mind. Usually, she would be enjoying the food options in front of her, but she acted the complete opposite to her normal self as she picked at the cereal looking back up at her.
When Professor Dumbledore himself had taken her aside, she knew that something dreadful had happened.
"Please Miss Bell, try not to be too alarmed."
Her breathing had become ragged as she assented to an escort to the hospital wing, McGonagall having alerted the other two chasers and Fay Dunbar to the predicament. "I could not stop them if I tried Albus," she said with no small amusement, barely restraining a wry grin at the situation. "James would be cheering right now I do believe."
The Headmaster chuckled dryly, as he concurred with her statement. Their pace was forced to speed up as Katie's legs began to move at a much quicker pace. When they finally reached the double doors at their destination, it seemed to the others that Katie had apparated directly to the bed of the young Potter.
The others stood worryingly around his bed, while Katie had sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to sit on his person, much to the consternation of Madam Pomfrey, and the humour of the present teachers.
Harry seemed confused by what was transpiring around him, but took heart in seeing his friends as he was coming back into the waking world. "What happened?"
"What's the last thing you remember my boy?"
He looked at Dumbledore, reassured by the warm hand enclosed around his own, while another gently caressed his forehead, fingers tenderly running down his lightning bolt scar; the act soothed him slightly.
"The Unicorn. There was a-a-a thing standing over it." He started to panic, remembering the feeling at once, as the dread returned like a bullet blasting him back onto his pillow. His sweat pooled about him, as the others cried out in worry.
"Harry my boy, take your time. There is no need to rush," Dumbledore appeared calm and collected, but McGonagall recognised when her old friend was putting on an act.
"What about Hagrid, and Fang?"
Dumbledore smiled, "They are both doing well, your spell combined with their own defences managed to delay the creature for long enough for Firenze to appear and drive it off." There was something there that Harry could not quite place. There was more to the story.
"Firenze, sir?"
"Ah, a centaur of the forest. He was most concerned with your welfare."
Harry paused for a minute as he tried to recall the whole event, but could only come up with flashes of pain and darkness. "Can... can you thank him for me? For saving us?"
"I will of course my boy, but first we should let you rest. Miss Bell, I do believe that second-year Gryffindors have Charms this afternoon, so I believe it would be remiss of me to vacate you before then." Harry and Katie looked thankfully at the Professor. "Though the rest of you may visit later, for now I believe we should let Mr Potter rest."
The others stayed by for a few minutes, expressing their thanks that their friend was still in one piece; Fay seemed to be on the verge of tears.
The rest of his friends appeared intermittently throughout the day, but it was Katie who was the constant, until Neville and Fay became free, and the four of them enjoyed their dinner together among the white stale walls of the hospital wing.
Pomfrey refrained from letting her patient out of her care for the next 2 days, deeming what had occurred to be too much of a detriment to risk a student's health. In that time the Potter had severely endeared himself to her. Unlike most patients, he showed no signs of impatience and impertinence that came with the self-righteousness of students who refused to waste any time in a hospital bed. Instead, she found a polite young man who seemed to be very interested in the concepts of what makes a Healer.
So it was with some a heavy heart she bid adieu to Harry Potter. "Mr Potter, I will not say that I hope to see you soon, as that may be too morbid. However I will state that it has been a pleasure."
Harry left her in better spirits than he had entered with; having such good company appeared to offset any serious negativity his head could come up with. Though his train of thought remained on the dark figure that haunted his dreams and waking thoughts. 'What was that thing? I've never felt such... darkness... Such hate from anything.' He shuddered at the image that preoccupied his mind, and as he traversed the corridor, knowing that there was a shortcut if he circled around to the back of the sixth floor, he would end up closer to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
His foot had reached the eighth step up when he turned around at the sound of a braying laugh. Two Slytherin's that he didn't recognised stood guard at behind him. His heartbeat quickened, and his breathing became halting as fear crept up his spine, imaginary icicles digging into his back.
"You really should have taken my hand Potter." At the top of the stairs, flanked by his continuous shadows of Crabbe and Goyle, was Draco Malfoy, positioning himself as if he was king of the world. "But no, you had to spit on my offer of friendship, and take up with squibs and blood traitors." If he were a lesser man, it would have seemed he would have spat in distaste, but he was ever the image of an attempted regal posture.
"Such a fool Potter. A coward like you destroy the Dark Lord himself." He was shaking his head in noticeable disbelief, "No, there is a lie there if I've ever head one." His teeth became bared like a grinning shark, "And soon the whole school will know how much of a liar and a coward you are."
The five boys surrounding him pulled out their wands, as one raising them at his trembling body.
"Why are you so cruel?" The silence was so substantial that the whisper echoed off the walls trapping them inside. Unwanted tears threatened to spill, but Harry refused to let this petty child get his way. "Why are you always so horrible to me? What have I done to deserve this?"
"Because you said no."
He could have burst out into hysterics. 'Because I told him no? Is that it? I didn't tell him he was wrong, or refuse to accept him. Is he so used to getting his own way that just because I was put into a different house, and that I'm nothing like him, that he has to be this way?'
Thinking quickly on it, as words were uttered before he could even pull out his wand, he noted that it was not just Malfoy that appeared to think this way. 'They all seem so... entitled. Malfoy, Ron, Hermione, so many others. Why? I just want to be me!'
He could feel the magic building in him, attempting to blast its way out, but shots of red light hit the two gorillas above him, stopping the other three in their tracks.
Cedric Diggory stood victoriously, wand raised at the attackers, two sixth year prefects rounding the corner behind him, fury developing quickly on their features as they took in the scene.
"This is not over Potter."
When Diggory clapped him on the shoulder, Harry profusely thanked him for saving him, knowing that even if he tried to defend himself with the limited knowledge he had on battle magic, his wand would never have been able to release the spells in time.
"Think nothing of it Harry. Bullies like that, ganging up on one person, are a pain for everyone, and you don't deserve that. They need to be stopped before they hurt anyone."
The next day, Harry laughed along for the first time, as the Weasley twins' over-the-top revenge prank humiliated five Slytherin boys in front of half the school. Hopefully it signalled a return to some sort of normality.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"Boys and girls. This year will be our year. Though we lost out the last... several times at the cup, I know that we will be victorious this time!"
George rolled his eyes, bumping Harry's shoulder with his own, causing a slight giggle to come out of the boy's mouth. "Oliver, it's not even match day, we're only training. It isn't like Ravenclaw are gonna walk over here and play right this second."
"It's not the point Weasley!"
Said twin jumped to muggle attention, hand flying to his forehead in a crisp, well-practised salute. "Yes sir, Captain Wood, Sir!"
"On our honour as the dashing Beater duo!"
"For the glory of the game!"
"For Gryffindor!"
"Nice one brother!"
"Of course brother!"
"Would the two of you knock it off for 5 seconds?!" Angelina had apparently had enough of the dynamic duo; Harry tried to hide his chuckles behind a fake cough, and gave a shy, withdrawn look towards the team Captain.
Wood sighed at his team. He knew that he was a good Keeper; being referred to as the best one in the school with no hints of sarcasm was enough to make him realise that. Fred and George were great Beaters because of how well they worked together. That duality was what set them apart from the other three sets: their unwavering trust in each other. Individually they were average in skill, but that teamwork they shared was definitely beyond any of the other houses.
The same went with their Chaser's. Give them a couple more years and they would be better than the Slytherin teams, who everyone agreed had the best skill out of all of them. But it would have to be enough against the Ravenclaw team, who's Chasers were of equal skill to Angelina, Alicia, and Katie.
Harry Potter was a diamond in the rough.
There were no Seeker's that he'd ever seen who moved like he did on a broom, not even Charlie Weasley had such raw potential in Quidditch. With such limited knowledge of the game, and barely any training that a Seeker should have participated in by this point, he absolutely dominated the last two games. So much so that the rest of the team had been practically pointless to even take the field. This is where strategy came into play. Sure, the house points that had been won for each point gained were a great positive, but there were barely any points made to make up the season. If they wanted to win the cup...
"Harry, we need to beat Ravenclaw by 130 points if we want to win this year. You have to wait for us to be that far up, unless there is no victory. I'll have you working with on the fly tactics to distract their Seeker. There's rumours of team scouts coming to this game, so I want to see a perfect game.
"I believe in all of you, and I know that you'll make me proud."
While Harry was highly aware of the looming last Quidditch match of the school season, the professors were heaping homework on all students as the end of year exams were coming closer and closer. They were just as ruthless in the lessons themselves.
It was getting to the point where the social dynamics of Harry's friendship group went onto a temporary hiatus as all of them diverged their attentions to their studies. It was getting to the point where their only interactions were at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Although if they had to find some sort of relief, it was that their detractors in the House of green and silver were also being forced to focus on their educational merits and therefore had no time to disrupt their lives.
It also seemed as though someone had had a quiet word with Severus Snape; if looks could kill then Harry believed he would be dead a thousand times over, and he was still getting victimised in Potions, no matter how much he complained to his head of house. Yet, the pressure was building so much for his complete need to prove himself as competent in magic that all other things would end up taking a back seat.
Fay and Neville both admired his drive, preferring this side to their best friend as opposed to the one who would sit there, depression heavy in the air as he hit dark moments. They would be there to help when they could, but to see him focus his efforts to get himself out of the pit he sometimes dwells in is so much more rewarding to them than when they help him out of it.
His stubborn effort was matching in intensity by some of the Ravens of the school, as well as their own resident bookworm. Yet the two of the would follow him through on this, and that was why they were spending a nice sunny Saturday afternoon researching one of the many skirmishes between Witch and Witchfinder instead of lazing by the lake.
Fay had practically given up as she rested her head on a heavy tome in front of her. "If I have to read about one more witch burning, I'm going to be setting my own fire," she grumbled.
Harry laughed lightly along with a tittering Neville. "It's alright Fay, just another couple more weeks, and that'll be it for the summer."
Neville just snorted. "Yeah, but will that stop you from studying."
"I really like transfiguration. I cannot help it being so interesting Nev."
Once again the boy wondered when the reserved Harry had changed so much. "You think we'll do okay?"
"Even if we fail everything, it isn't like they're going to kick us out," said Fay. "Just look at Crabbe and Goyle, even Ron. Those three are probably the worst in the year and they'll all be back next year, guaranteed."
"We can still aim to do as well as we should."
"Harry, I think it's only you and Granger that want to be at the top here. The rest of us just want it over and done with."
Harry's reddening cheeks did not really give her the answer that she wanted. There was something more to it than pride here, but she couldn't work it out.
She would have to wait to try and discover what her thoughts would lead her to, as the exams hit them all with all of the subtlety of a stampeding rhino.
Their History exam, all students secretly wondering exactly how a ghost actually marks their work, was indeed as soul crushing as Fay had anticipated, although she had to nod her head at Harry's work ethic spilling over her way.
"That was more than boring guys," she grunted. Her two boys nodded their heads dutifully; just noting down the information required for the exam had been a bit much even for Harry to focus on.
Their Astronomy exam was incredibly simple for those who had being paying attention to the basic material of their own Solar System, and thanks to Neville's diligence and passion, they knew that they had all done extremely well on Sprout's Herbology exam.
"Really Nev, you're more than a gardener you know," Harry had jibed good naturedly. "You say me and a broom can't be separated; I should be saying that about you and a trowel."
Unfortunately their Potions exam was a near travesty. Fay was always treated less harsh that Neville and Harry were by Snape, but even she felt the dimmed atmosphere in the dungeons as they hunched over a bubbling cauldron trying to make at least a passing standard for Snape to mark. Of course, like everything in the dungeon, it never went Harry's way, and his frustration spilled over to the horrible mood he was in that dinner time. It had to take the combined soothing from both Katie and Fay to bring him out of his self-depreciating funk as they reminded him that Snape was just a big bully, and that he was "Harry Potter – Wizard Extraordinaire!" which had him giggling uncontrollably at the circus master performance they put on.
"Come on you two. That's something I'd expect from Fred and George! Not you!"
Defence was a complete wash for Harry. He knew he would barely scrape an acceptable, but the struggles he had with the class carried over to the examination. Having Quirrell standing, observing their examination just would not stop putting him off performing his best. It didn't help that the practical side of it required faster spellwork than what his wand could pull off. There was also the severe issue of his general distaste for fighting, which he knew was a major issue if his own history as a child indicated. He knew what had been out there, referencing the action in the forest for example, but he just wanted to stay away from all that... darkness.
Naturally, when it came time for him to deal with his specialty subjects – charms and transfiguration – there was no stopping him. He found Charms greatly interesting, and knew that he was placed among the top of the first years, but it was always going to be Transfiguration where he excelled. If the proud smile on Minerva McGonagall was of any indication, then he had performed spectacularly.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
With the exams out the way, thankfully, Harry could focus on the next experience: the last match to be played.
Oliver had tried to run them into the ground with their training and would have been worse if not for the wrath of McGonagall who claimed that they still needed to revise for their exams at the time.
"I understand you want to win the cup Mr Wood, goodness knows I've had enough of it being in Severus Snape's clutches, but your futures come first. Especially yours! Do you or do you not have your O.W.L's to partake in?"
That had been then, and the exam season was now over.
There had been ever present tales of team scouts attending that run all over the Hogwarts rumour mill. Harry didn't seem to see this as all that unusual, bringing his queries up to Fay one night at dinner.
"Harry," she started, "Most people have to try out for professional teams. The way the British teams work is by process of elimination. Most of the big ones look for money unfortunately. One of the reasons why the English team is just absolute crap; most of the players buy their way in. So for them to send scouts this way... it can only really mean one thing."
"Which is?"
"They're looking at you."
"I don't understand."
She sighed, luckily Katie and Angelina had turned up, catching the last snippets of their conversation, so that they could take over.
"Harry, I don't think you fully realise how skilled you are on a broom."
"I get that I win Angie, but I'm only a first year. I'm not that good."
"Get that attitude away from you Harry," Katie sighed. "Fay's right in the sense that most players buy their way in. It's also a coincidence that the English team is full of pure-blooded ex-Slytherins too, but the manager's, at least some of them, must have some pride. If rumours of your skill got to them, that's going to be why they're over here."
It was a shock to say the least. The bubble that he would keep himself in made him forget sometimes that his world wasn't restricted to the set individuals who took the most import in his existence. The fact that there was a greater community that had his as a set example was something he never could comprehend with the whole boy-who-lived deal. Now he was being told that people had put him on a pedestal for his own accomplishments. Or at least they were trying to.
"What should I do?"
Katie furrowed her brow, an action mirrored by the other two girls. "They probably won't do anything yet. But they'll definitely be on the lookout. It's probably why Wood's getting so skittish with this final game. They may be here to spot you, but if someone else manages to get into their sights..."
The unfinished point made sense to him; Wood wanted desperately to go professional.
"Well then, we will all just have to win then," he beamed at them.
Harry could feel the tension emanating from the whole team as they waited for the doors to open to take them onto the pitch. The pre match speech felt hollow as Wood attempted to get everyone pumped up and raring to go. But each one of them had their own pregame ritual that they needed to undertake.
The last two games, while nerve-wracking for him, meant far less to him. Then, Harry tried to enjoy the game for what it was, and it felt at the time as though time sped forward at such a speed that he did not recognise that there was anything to feel anxious about. He was to go onto the pitch to the tunes of the people he cared about, and try to make them proud of him so that they wouldn't throw him away. This was bigger than that, for he knew that the disappointment on their faces if they failed because of him would be unbearable. He had to win.
They creaked open slowly, adding a sense of drama as the Silencing Charms ended with the revelation of the screaming crowd. As one the lions of the sky mounted their brooms.
Harry could hear Lee Jordan announce their names to the horde, a bit more flair than usual for the attending guest. If he had had more focus on their introduction he would have noticed the boy say his name with more enthusiasm than the rest. He scanned the crowd, looking at the box towers littering the pitch in a pleasing pattern, and saw them sitting together, binoculars out and pointed at the players.
He could see Wood shaking as he shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain, while the rest waited for the signal to get into position. The Snitch was released, zooming off, and Madam Hooch grasped the Quaffle as she prepared to throw it and release the Bludgers. "Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I want to see a good game. Play well."
Fred immediately smacked the Bludger to one of the Ravenclaw Chasers, as Harry began the plan that Wood had come up with. He was to be the distraction; he was a superior flyer, and that was to be used as an advantage against the other team. He was to use his skill to weave in and out of plays, which hopefully would distract the opposing Seeker enough to avoid searching for the Golden Snitch, and therefore putting the Cup directly into Slytherin's waiting arms.
The game dragged on. For every three goals that Gryffindor placed, Ravenclaw would use their skill to pot one more. But it was easily seen by all that Gryffindor were the better team, though not by much it seemed.
Harry had spotted the Snitch twice now, and attempted to confuse the opposition, a nimble seventh year girl, to get her attention away from the possibility of catching it. Eventually, that number was reached, 130 point lead. It had taken over an hour of hard aerial fighting, but they had it. Then Katie scored another goal past the Ravenclaw Keeper. They were 140 up, and he shot up, trying to get a better view.
His head swivelled about, left and right he scanned, ever climbing up until he was above the stands completely. He was in his own world now, narrowed down to completely focus on his objective.
He dropped down, almost in freefall, accelerating far beyond the point where a normal person should have been able to cope. But Harry's tunnel vision ignored the screaming that changed in pitch. No longer was it crying out in cheers, but in shock and worry.
Faster and faster he went. "Go, go, go, go!" Wood was screaming at him as the game practically stopped.
The Ravenclaw Seeker had seen it too, there, hovering listlessly only mere inches above the ground. He was closer, but Harry was moving now at a speed beyond what could be picked up by his opponent. In the distraction, Ravenclaw scored another goal. It was only 130 up now.
There wasn't enough time. Just a foot off the ground Harry pulled up, his left leg raised up as he pushed harshly down on the back of his broom, the bristles of the rear sliding across the short grass. Harry's right foot was under his body as he near stepped on his Nimbus, arm outstretched.
The whistle blew, and Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
When Harry had entered the magical world, he wasn't sure what he would be expecting. To him, this new world was an escape. At least, that was how it had begun. Now, it was something so much more.
When he boarded the great red train at the beginning of the school year, he had escaped the Dursley's and to him that was all that mattered. As the year progressed, it became so much more than that. Neville, Fay, Fred, George, Oliver, McGonagall, Hagrid, Flitwick, Alicia, Angelina, and Katie. These were more than names for him. For Harry Potter, they had become his life.
Vernon Dursley had tried his best to break his will. Over years and years he had attempted to make him less than human, because to someone as single-minded, inconsequential in his existence in the grand scheme of life, and narrow as he was, his beliefs were the only thing that mattered. Harry's existence to him, was the antipathy of all things he held as normal, and in his own words he wanted to "stamp out the freakishness". When that did not work, he wanted to stamp out his meaning.
When Harry came to Hogwarts, he felt that he was worthless, unwanted, and pointless. These people who became so much to him lifted him out of that belief. They showed him a different path. A different way that made him see such a different side to life.
This was why he tried to avoid the destructive nature of Malfoy and Snape and the rest. They reminded him so much of the malevolence of the place he lived for so long that he didn't recognise them as a threat to be dealt with. He was so used to the hate and despair that was wrought from such behaviours that he just... accepted it.
But he was changing... he had changed. And those names were what was influencing him to become something more akin to a human. He was no longer boy, or freak. He was Harry Potter.
Whenever he shared a cup of tea with Flitwick, or enjoyed the hearty tales of his parents with Hagrid. Whenever McGonagall looked at him with pride, or his house celebrated his actions on the Quidditch pitch. Whenever Fred and George made him laugh so much his ribs ached and his sides hurt. Whenever Angelina and Alicia fussed over him. Whenever Oliver would treat him like he was something, and had a use for somebody. Whenever Katie would hug him tightly and treat him with such kindness and warmth. Whenever Neville and Fay would just be with him, just be his friends.
Whenever he lay awake at night thinking of the sacrifice of James and Lily Potter. That was when he knew. He knew that he was more than the sum of his parts. He was a collective of something so greater. He was all of these things that they brought out of him, and as he lay there, staring at the stone ceiling, he thought of all these things that made him... him. And he cried. His tears streamed down his face in uncontrollable waves because he knew he was weak, that he was still worthless, and that he was damaged. But he felt happy still, because he had these people in his life. And each day would get better and better because of these people.
That was the strength he had found as the blood flowed out of his fragile body. His eyes began to slowly close and his last thoughts were of those people who meant so much to him.
Author's notes
So yeah, a bit of delay with this one, but I'm going to try for a bit of schedule to keep to. I don't quite know when my furlough ends, and I'm definitely enjoying releasing these chapters regularly. I don't want there to be like a chapter every other day for so long, then months gaps between the rest. The next chapters should (hopefully) be released weekly if all goes to plan.
On another note, the reason I'm going to enjoy fourth year is because that's when things will kind of stop being the build-up, and instead will be driving the plot forward. Then again, that seems to be the stereotype for most HP fanfics. After that, it's just plot twist time. Don't expect a canon ending, because that is not going to happen.
Hope you enjoyed the cliff-hanger part at the end too. Next chapter we will see the aftermath of the Quidditch victory and what happened to Harry.
Next chapter: The Stone
Stay safe,
KhaosOnion
