Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter
Going to have to put this here, I'm afraid. Due to lack of time to actually be able to write – life and work getting in the way – unfortunately the chapter releases will be more sporadic and probably farther apart. I am not giving up this story, it will just take a bit longer to finish than I originally anticipated. I am really sorry about this, but I had to rewrite parts of this chapter several times before I got it the way I wanted (to set it up for the following chapters etc.). This is in order to make the story as good as I can possibly make it for both your, and my own, benefit.
Harry was sat by the Lake, the trees of the Forbidden Forest lined up behind him, his face red from sweat and voice hoarse from his shouting.
The Gryffindor versus Slytherin game had been a bit earlier this year; the excuse given was that both sides were returning players, but Wood had been moaning to anyone that listened that it was a ploy to throw Ginny off-kilter. Everyone knew that Harry couldn't play for the school team this year, and everyone knew that the House of Cunning was trying to take advantage. Harry had gone, for days now, seeing a smirking Malfoy and a sneering Snape as they revelled in Gryffindor's apprehension for their first game.
He had been next to Neville and Fay in the stands, with all three of them decked out in supporting red and gold, stripes of the same colours upon each cheek, and flags aplenty designed and created by their housemate, Dean Thomas.
The game had got off to a rocky start, but by the end, Harry was enjoying the thrills and joys of watching a Quidditch match. He had giggled profusely when Katie had drifted over to him during a time-out called by the Slytherin side, and remembered the lingering feeling of emptiness when she had to fly back into position to continue the game.
It had lasted 3 and a half hours, but Ginny eventually caught the Snitch, ending the match at 430-290 – a hell of a great game for her first one.
Now, as the team celebrated, Harry decided he wanted to be alone. There had been an odd feeling in his chest as he saw his friends cheer and rejoice without him involved. It was a pain he could not quite understand as his heart felt like it was burning in a dull heat. His eyes had started to well up, and that was when he knew he had to leave, so he meandered through the Hogwarts grounds to this place and had now found himself staring out over the calm waters, his back against bark and legs up to his chest.
He felt miserable but had no idea why. 'I'm so confused.'
The sun was still shining, but he knew it was getting late, and should probably be getting back. He felt somewhat ashamed of himself for avoiding the Circle. But another, more selfish part of him, demanded to know why they hadn't come looking for him in return.
He had finally made his mind up to head back, to grovel before his friends if he had to, when he heard the sound of a quiet whine. He was still sat down as the large, black, shaggy dog made its way out of the treeline and over to where he was.
The dog bowed its head in a form of submission as it approached, its tongue lolling out sideways as it seemed to grin widely at him. Harry had seen many things at Hogwarts, but this was still counted as strange in his eyes.
"Hello doggy," he smiled sadly. "What are you doing out here?"
He got a sharp woof in return as its head nudged into his arm, its wet nose rubbing along his scarred arm.
"Aren't you a good boy?" Harry cooed lowly. He always liked dogs, and would always be the one to gravitate towards Fang during his weekly visits to Hagrid's for tea. His left hand reached up behind the ears of the animal and started to scratch. Harry couldn't contain his giggles as the dog's hind leg began an imitation of a sprint in mid-air while it collapsed onto his lap.
Harry was so enraptured by the introduction of this affectionate being, that he did not realise that the sky was darkening slightly, and the torches of Hogwarts had lit themselves up, as time had flown speedily by.
It was but a few hours after he met with the dark pooch, that he witnessed the team crest over a small hill that led to his position. The looks of deep concern marred their faces as they searched over for him, ceased by the frenzied pointing by one of the skirt-clad figures.
"Harry!" Katie cried, "We've been searching all over for you."
Fay shook her head, as both she and Neville had tagged along with the group. "I told you he'd be fine. Look, he's even made a friend."
"That's a big lookin' dog there, Harrikins," Fred said warily.
Harry looked down to his lap where the dog was giving him a stereotypical puppy-dog stare, a whine following the speech of the humans that he did not know.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to intrude, so I came down here to get away. This one found me and hasn't left me alone." Though the red face and dark look began at the start of his words, they could easily see the calm that the dog brought to their small friend.
"Don't be silly, Harry," Oliver piped up. "You may not be playing at the moment, but you're still part of the team. Can't have our star Seeker not turn up to the victory party."
Harry gazed at them all behind watery eyes, wiped away by a now crouched Katie, as her blue bored deep into his green. "Oliver's right, Harry, surprising as that is." A snort came from behind and a small giggle from Harry. She sat to his right and leaned over him to tenderly stroke the dog's head, with her shoulder warmly pressed into Harry.
The dog looked directly at the girl – one could almost see it narrowing its eyes as it took her all in. Teeth were bared and a small growl escaped its throat but stopped as quick as it was produced.
"I think he likes me too," she cheered happily.
The group sat in a circle, and all insecurities and worries that plagued Harry's mind ebbed away slowly until they were but a speck in the distance. A fragmented memory that he would no longer focus on. Inconsequential to his life as the ridiculous notion of he becoming unwanted flowed downstream until barely visible.
He knew that he had his issues, but he could not help, as his stomach became tied and his heart hot, but to feel dark and alone. He would never speak of it willingly, but sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could hear the screams of Quirrell, see the dust in the cupboard, and feel the pain as the Basilisk's jaw clamped down hard.
As the Butterbeer was shared about, and laughter filled the Lumos-lit trees, Harry shoved the thoughts away into the deep corners of his mind. He gripped this feeling like a vice, closing tightly on this shining light that reverberated in the here and now. Yet he mused on what he knew; this was an unhealthy way of being, and yet the words to scream for help would stick in his throat. He could never ask, and never beg – the minor breakdown he had in Katie's arms was a moment of weakness after an emotionally traumatic experience as his deepest, darkest secret was made real.
So he would flit from day to day, ever watchful of the next thing to knock him down, subconsciously knowing that someone would come to pick him up as he crouched low in the dirt and muck. He had to hold on to this feeling of warmth and comfort that enveloped him at this moment.
He could see the smiles and concerned faces around him and knew that he would be okay. It would just take some time before the evil in his mind would drain away. As the darkness thickened, and a worried McGonagall tracked them down, Harry embraced the light as it forced the shadows to shy away from them all.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"This is sooooooo boring," Fay moaned, slamming her head into her folded arms. Her quill, parchment pages, and textbooks sliding away from her due to the force he created. When neither of her friends responded other than a quick glance in her direction, she huffed in annoyance at their lack of speech. "C'mon, Harry, even you have to get bored of Transfiguration now and then. I don't know what she means! The technique influencing the blah, blah, blah."
"It really isn't that hard, Fay," Harry said gently. "Sure, the intricacies may be difficult to fully comprehend, but when you understand the basics, it falls into place quite easily."
She let out a small snort at his words. "Says the magical prodigy."
"I'm not..."
"Oh please, Harry, we all know that you're a complete teacher's pet," she growled good-naturedly. "Well... except for one or two. And don't think I haven't heard about you and the Arithmancy Professor. A few weeks in and from what I've heard, you have her wrapped round your fingers."
"I just really like the subject," Neville sniggered at the shade of deep red Harry's face was becoming. "And she knew my mum in school. She's been telling me all about her when they were friends."
"Lily Evans was... a unique soul, Harry. Everyone loved her, and she brightened the lives of everyone she touched. There was a light to her that I see reflected in you. You may look the spitting image of James, but inside all I can see is her.
"It was thanks to her that I took a vested interest in Arithmancy, you know? I was struggling to decide what my electives would be, and it was her who sat with me and chose. Hah! It was probably the only class I ever beat her in. A master at esoteric magics brought about by her constant research in the field, but I was much better if I do say so myself.
"Of course, Snape was always better at Potions and Defence, and James was probably only weaker in Transfiguration to Dumbledore and Minerva, not to mention his incredible proficiency with magical creatures. But Lily... she was always the best of us."
"It's nice that you can have that," Neville smiled faintly. "I'm jealous sometimes."
"I think you're amazing, Nev," Harry responded, his eyes shining, though internally he felt confused at the despondent look he was showing. "You just need some more confidence." 'Pot calling kettle black if I ever heard.'
"Yeah, Nev, it would definitely help if you got a wand that was actually your own as well."
"But Gran would never do that. It's my dad's wand and she... Well, I think she wants me to become an Auror like him. But if I can't be as good as them..."
"I think you're brilliant, Nev," Harry muttered to the quiet of the Library. "I think you'll be as good as you choose to be. You've just hit a few bumps in the road."
Fay hummed thoughtfully. "So what do you think you want to do when you finish school, Nev? Would becoming an Auror be on the table?"
"What's an Auror?" Harry asked.
"It's like a muggle policeman," Fay replied.
"I haven't really thought about it, to be honest," Neville said, his quill up to his lips, absently dripping ink down his chin and onto his buttoned white school shirt.
"Well, you're brilliant at Herbology, so maybe something to do with that?"
"I dunno, Fay, I don't think Gran would be very happy."
Harry's brows furrowed concernedly, "Neville, it should be based on what you want, nothing else."
"Maybe... an apothecary? Or creating my own greenhouse?" Harry and Fay exchanged a sly grin to each other, both had previously concluded that they felt that Neville needed to become his own person. "The family manor has a load of space, and we have some greenhouses already... yeah, maybe I could do that. We have money too. Maybe I could open up a shop in Hogsmeade, closer to the school to make it easier."
"See Nev, you really can be brilliant."
"What about you then, Fay? What do you want to do?"
"In a perfect world? Beater for the Harpies," her grin was infectious. "But more realistically? Mum's family supplies a whole load of food – magically grown of course – so we get a load of money from the muggle and magical side. Dad works for the Ministry. Department of Magical Games and Sports, so maybe in that? He's actually part of the team to put up the England Stadium for next year."
"So you know what you want to do then?" Harry asked, worrying his lower lip as the fact that he had to eventually establish a future for himself slowly dawned on him. "What would I do?"
"Pfft," Fay laughed. "So you won't stay professional in Quidditch?"
"Maybe? I like doing it, but I'm not sure I could do it for a career."
"What about Transfiguration? Or a spell researcher? Something at the Ministry?"
"I wonder..."
Fay leaned in, her face coming closer to his as her breathing quickened unintentionally. "Wonder..."
"Professor Dumbledore has a phoenix. Apparently, it's really rare to even see one let alone have one as a familiar. Makes me wonder what else is out there that we don't ever get to see."
Neville looked thoughtful as he pondered Harry's words. "You sound like that Lovegood girl. The one that Hermione's become friends with now that she's ditched Ron."
"Well, maybe she has some merit to her beliefs," Harry said while looking into a borrowed Transfiguration textbook he had been completely invested in. "I had no idea that Dragons and Unicorns were real until a couple of years ago, and now they are, so why does that mean her creatures aren't the same?"
Fay shrugged her shoulders, "Well, we've still got some time until we fully decide. Until then, anything could change."
Harry nodded his assent, "That doesn't mean that you can slack off on your homework for McGonagall though, Fay."
"Harrrrrryyy!"
Katie Bell walked passed the bookshelves with a smile on her face as she saw Harry's improved mood compared to the week before. 'You do worry me, Harry Potter, but know this. I will always be here for you... no matter what.'
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Remus Lupin did not know exactly what to make of young Harry Potter, yet knew in his heart what he wanted from him.
When he first laid eyes upon his frail, overly pale, tiny form, he could only wince at the sense of misery and torment he must have endured. Not to mention the untold agony he went through as the Dementor attempted to draw out his soul. 'And Snape... what was that man thinking?'
He had worked it out with the Headmaster – when he had everything set up, he would try to teach Harry a complex piece of magic.
"The Patronus Charm, Harry, is a nifty spell that can be used to fend off two of the darkest, foulest creatures in the world: Lethifolds and Dementors. Now, the Charm itself requires two distinct things that allow it to be performed. The first is power, the second is intent, which in this case, is the formation of a 'happy memory'.
Usually, I would simply tell you the incantation and send you to it, but that is not exactly the final procedure to create the Charm. There is a third and secret application that must be undertaken that is the true difficulty behind the spell."
"Secret application?" Harry asked with some intrigue.
'Professor Dumbledore was right, discussion on magic is a good start.'
"Harry is... complex. If you wish for him to accept you in his life, then I would say that it is a good starting point to begin with something that is near to his own heart. His friends' methods are built on by time and trust and care, so I would say to start with either magic or his parents. Yet... he holds a form of resentment towards them that he has locked deep within."
"Resentment? Why would he resent them?"
"You must understand, Remus, that like any child abandoned by their family, he craves the knowledge that he was loved, even if there is no evidence of it."
"They died for him! They sacrificed everything so that he could have a life, even if they could not! That is not abandonment."
"He speaks with Filius and Minerva frequently, as well as Rubeus, and now even Septima is involved from what I have been told. Each has woven their way into his life and there is now established trust between them."
"What does that have to do with anything, Professor?"
"The heart is not a rational thing, Remus. It is impulsive and uncontrollable. They have all concluded that Harry is bleeding inside. His emotions are running wild under lock and key. Suppressed so much so that even he is not aware of his true feelings. So much like Lily, and yet so very different... so much like him, it hurts to even look at him at times... He craves the knowing that he was loved, and yet the death of Lily and James has left a deep scar upon him that has affected his life in totality. He is damaged, Remus, and as his heart is irrational, so too is his waking mind. He desires the knowledge that they care, but you must worm your way into his life. Do not open with your relationship with James. Somehow, Septima has convinced him to listen to her and her relationship with Lily..."
"You mean the 'what could have been'?"
"Hah, of course, though Harry knows not of the relationship that Septima and Lily once shared, and I would trust you keep it to yourself until she is ready to divulge it to him."
"Of course, Professor. But I think I know what to do with Harry. I just need a few days to get everything in order."
"Good luck then, Remus. Good luck to you."
"In order to perform this spell, you must know it in your soul. It is one of the main reasons why even the most skilled and experienced Witches and Wizards can fully perform this spell. In fact, if I were to place a guess, I would say that there are only about 100-150 people in the world who can perform the Charm to the fullest when in the presence of a Dementor. Without one, there are a lot more, but let's work our way up to that shall we?"
The sessions were slow going, and by the end of October, Harry had only managed to unleash the smallest of fine mist.
"Do not be disheartened, Harry. Such a feat, especially for you, at such a young age is near unheard of."
Harry kept quiet, only simply nodding his head once to show he heard.
Remus sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. 'I'm too tired of all this.'
"Harry, do not worry. I promised that I would teach you to defend yourself against those abominations of nature, and I meant it." He could see the lights flicker in Harry's eyes. "We shall leave it for tonight. I don't want to overwhelm you for Tuesday. I will miss you in my lesson, but maybe I'll treat the class and have the wireless on. A pity that I could not be there. Nor James. Your father would be so proud of you."
"You knew my dad?"
Bingo.
"Of course. He was my closest friend when I was once a student here. Things happened afterwards, but we always remained as thick as thieves."
"What... what was he like?"
Remus smiled sadly as he noticed Harry's glasses mist up. "Maybe another time, Harry. It is getting quite late, and maybe such heavy discussion could be left until after your match." He paused as Harry friendlily said his goodnights. "Out of curiosity, what exactly were you using for your memory?"
"Um, I, actually, wasn't?"
Remus went still. "What do you mean?"
"I couldn't think of one. I know I have them, but every time I tried to imagine it, it just wouldn't come to me."
Remus stood in place as Harry turned and walked out the room, still in shock at the revelation he had just been told.
"Harry Potter," he whispered to the empty classroom. 'He managed to produce even that small mist with no powerful, positive emotion?' "Ha! Harry Potter! You have no idea how truly exceptional you really are!"
He walked back to his quarters with a tune on his lips and a skip in his step. Harry Potter was an amazing wizard, and he was determined to bring out the best in him.
'Harry, you might just be the saviour everyone says you to be.'
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Harry performed exactly as he should. He didn't showboat as many National players did, neither did he exude the arrogance or obnoxiousness that many experienced and longstanding Seekers may have done.
He entered the pitch with the full knowledge that he would play the game how he always would do, and as such, played to win.
The rest of the England team lapped the stadium to the cheers of not only the few English supporters that had made it out, but also to the many Austrian fans who filled the stands.
The Austrian Quidditch team arrived with smiles on their faces and joy in their aura's. They happily shook hands with the nervous English side, honing in on their counterparts. For Harry this was a slight, pretty, blonde-haired woman who had a wicked scar moving horizontally from ear to ear.
"I may not zpeek much ov your tongue, but know it is good game?"
Harry smiled back at the older woman, who seemed to be of an age with Professor Vector, and raised his hand to meet her own in a friendly handshake. "Of course. Let's have a good match."
Though the other Seeker gave as good as she possibly could, given the circumstances, there was no possible way she could outfly someone as naturally skilled as Harry was. He dodged and weaved, leading her on a chase through the maze of players of both teams. Bludgers and Quaffles blasted all around the two of them, yet the smiles never left either of their faces.
It was a fast-paced match where both Seekers' Firebolts were put to the pace as the race to catch the Snitch existed from the get-go. At the 25 minute mark, Harry was dripping with sweat, red-faced, and more tired than any match had ever made him. But in his hand was the evidence of their victory. Nike herself must be his eternal supporter as his red and white garbed teammates swarmed him in raucous excitement.
"And that ends the 1993 group stage match between England and Austria – England wins! 280-130!"
He could just imagine the cheers that his friends, schoolmates, and teachers would have for him. Would he have made them proud for winning? Would he have made his mother? His father? Would they be proud of him?
"A good game indeed." The woman smiled at him, appearing as tired as he was. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and a look of contemplation developed upon her face. "You are strange one, 'Arry Potter. But good game. Good luck in future match."
Like that she had disappeared. Vanished from sight as Professor Flitwick squeaked at him in delight.
"Good show, Harry, good show indeed. Such a performance. 'Tis a pity that Minerva was not able to make it, but you know how it is."
"Thank you, Professor."
The rapturous applause that met him when he walked into the Gryffindor Common Room later that evening, after a wondrous dinner in Flitwick's quarters alongside Vector and McGonagall, was enough to almost bring happy tears to his eyes.
The one person who made their way directly to him with intent not to simply congratulate and pat him on the back, was the one person he wanted near him.
Katie embraced him tightly, fingernail marks adorning her cheeks drawing attention to her out of place, wild-looking locks.
"Well done, Harry. I'm so proud of you."
The thoughts of his insignificance, true or not, disappeared wholly as he returned the hug with all his might. 'Is this a happy memory? It must be.' His heart burned, but not of a heat that diminished.
Instead, he could only feel as though anything was possible.
Author's Notes
The beginning of this chapter is a confused Harry who has a perfectly reasonable response to such things in showcasing how depression can act. Only this time it's becoming a more manageable way of dealing with it. Before, as in the last two years, we would have seen a different way that Harry would have acted, but now this Harry is starting to discover his self-worth, but still maintaining his own self-perceived innocence. He just doesn't want to upset and/or anger his friends because a large part of him is afraid of abandonment. The Circle know this, even if it is only subconsciously, and will drag him back into the fold if they have to just to make him feel better. It's a vicious tug-of-war that will eventually even out.
And yep, that is exactly who you think it is. And yes, I am taking some liberties with the history of some characters. If it annoys you then I can't help that, but I want what I write to mean something. Every detail examined in the fic is relevant, and in this case is not something that is just stated then thrown away.
Also, hope you enjoyed my Remus Lupin POV. I believe I have stated prior to this chapter, but Harry's life will not only have its depressive stages.
I am not Austrian, by the way, but I have been there once before and absolutely fell in love with the country. Such a beautiful place and such wonderful, polite people. Definitely a go-to holiday destination (but maybe wait until it's safe to go first).
Next Chapter: A Wizarding Village