A/N: Oh boy, did I get derailed. I'm so sorry for the delay in this update! Let's just lump the reasons under the "stress" umbrella and I'll say I'm hopeful that I'm free again to resume without interruption until I finish this. I'm thinking it should conclude in about 5-10 more chapters. Let's see if I'm right….! and, Merry Christmas!
Chapter 30 - The Beginning of the Chaotic Resolution
This time, when the four wizards came through the floo into Dumbledore's office, they came upon what appeared to be the tail end of a rather frantically paced session for the elderly Headmaster. All of the available seating was taken by injured students.
"Gentlemen," Albus greeted. "You've come just in time to witness the overflow from the Hospital Wing." He was standing over a fourth year witch from Luna's class, who was hunched in her chair, seemingly unable to hold her head up.
At first she looked like she'd passed out, but as Harry stepped further into the room, he could see that she had enormous boils on her face that she was trying to hide from view. Beyond her, in the farthest corner of the office, sat Cormack McClaggen. At first glance, he appeared uninjured, but was glaring angrily at Harry. Now what?
Draco sat in a seat off the the side with a bloody handkerchief pressed to his lower lip, and his left eye and the left side of his face were badly bruised. Beside him, Marcus Flint had his arm in a sling and similar facial damage. Across from them, a weeping first year Hufflepuff was struggling to stifle sobs, but would lose the battle and open his mouth, only to crow like a rooster, and cough out a colorful feather, a small pile of which had collected on the floor below his dangling feet. A third year Slytherin witch was squinting her eyes fiercely, as if she was trying to read tiny print, but wasn't looking at anything in particular.
"What in Merlin's name-?" Lucius was demanding as he strode directly over to Draco to look him over.
Flint was the one to answer, but one side of his face was so swollen it was a challenge to completely comprehend him: "It wur jus' like three yursh back-" he grimaced to try to loosen his face muscles then winced, then hissed because all of these motions were painful. "Son'net cursed thuh bludger!"
"Yes, but were you playing quidditch?" Lucius asked derisively. "I thought you were all off for another day in Hogsmeade?"
"A group of us were walking into town, Father," Draco explained in frustration. "A bludger came out of nowhere and clobbered everyone. Marcus and I got the least of if."
Harry's eyebrows were raised, but his stomach had basically settled permanently beneath his feet. He blurted out in unison with all three of his mentors:
"What's been happening?"
"I'm afraid there's been quite a bit of mayhem," Dumbledore replied, absently watching Lucius tilt Draco's head back and use his wand to heal his son's lip. Severus had stepped over to Flint to assist him, and Remus was moving towards the first year who seemed to be unable to stop crying. "Random episodes and incidents occurring at an almost constant clip, I'm afraid. Madam Pomfrey is quite overwhelmed at the moment. We've had students finding themselves cursed with the oddest of maladies." He waved his hand, palm open, over the fourth year's head as he gently twisted his wand hand at the wrist, and whistled an oddly melodic tweeting sound. "Better?" he asked the young witch after a few moments. She nodded but still stayed hunched. "Give it another two or three minutes, Miss Monroe, and then you should feel like yourself again."
"Is that Harry Potter?" the Slytherin witch demanded loudly, as if her inability to see required her to yell. "Is it?"
"Er, yeah," Harry replied carefully. He started to walk towards her, but stopped when she rasped.
"What are you playing at, Potter? Passing out jinxed chocolate and calling it a reward!" The girl literally seethed with rage.
Harry frowned. First of all, he did not know this witch. She was not part of the DA. And second -
"Headmaster, it's about time you did something about Harry Potter! He's always just running around, doing whatever he wants! Never follows the rules, then wonders why he-"
"Miss Clemmens," Severus said in a voice that told her to watch her step, "be careful who you attempt to blame for your current circumstances."
Maggie Clemmens pinched her already strained expression and attempted to focus on the potions master. "I was given one of the chocolate frogs that Potter gave away to people, Professor!" Then to Dumbledore, "It's the only explanation for the way so many of us have this blindness affliction, Headmaster!"
Harry sighed. He looked at Dumbledore who seemed to be a tad annoyed. Poor Dumbledore's really been getting it from the witches lately! "What's this about, Headmaster?"
"Harry, today several students have developed vision issues and severe dizziness," Dumbledore explained. "The one factor linking them together, that we've found thus far, is that they've all eaten a chocolate frog today which was passed on to them from someone who said they'd received it from you."
"Sir, I've personally eaten several of the frogs from that big delivery I received last week. So have lots of my mates." When Dumbledore nodded, Harry turned to Maggie, "If you ate a bad frog, it didn't come from me. I don't care what you were told, or by whom." And suddenly he felt as if he'd never gotten to have his time off to recuperate from infuriating things like this. "Sir, may I leave?"
"Yes, Harry, but one minute before you do, if you please?" Dumbledore responded. "I'm hoping you may have some insight into what may be behind Mr. McClaggen's current affliction?" He turned to gesture toward the angry sixth year Gryffindor.
Harry followed the direction of the gesturing and suddenly understood why McClaggen was glaring at him. He had enormous clown feet. Uh oh. "Err, a Finite doesn't end it?" he asked lamely.
0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0
Harry headed directly to the MDTA to burn off steam. Of course there had to be some stupid incident with a younger year from the group he'd given some pointers to the other day. Of course. And of course it had to happen between Cormack McClaggen and a second year. McClaggen had contended that he'd rounded a corner earlier and slammed into a running younger year wizard, who'd supposedly been waving around a large lollie that he'd slobbered all over, and then had essentially wiped it onto Cormack's new jumper.
"I told him he was an idiot and pulled my wand out to clean up my jumper and he goes and starts hexing me!" Cormack had complained as Harry had exited in annoyance. He highly doubted that was all Cormack had done with his wand.
Harry marched directly over to the line of dueling dummies, wiggling his arm to free his wand, and proceeded to blast them, one by one, with a series of fierce Bombardas, into which he put a tremendous amount of angry power. The spell sent each one slamming back into the rather wide stretch of space before they each crashed heavily into the far wall behind them.
"I hope that helped a bit, Harry," Remus said with a touch of amusement, but also with a touch of pride. "You've mastered that spell beautifully." He came further into the room and used his wand to levitate one of the dummies back to where it had been standing.
"Thanks," Harry said without enthusiasm. An unshakable rush of shame had come upon him earlier, which he supposed was because Remus and the others had seen his aunt and uncle in all of their wretched, hateful-of-everything-Harry glory at Privet Drive. He sighed. "I don't know how Cormack's feet got so distorted."
"Ah yes," Remus said, still with some amusement but now also with some sympathy for McClaggen. He continued to levitate the dummies as he spoke, "It would seem that the younger student who hexed him mixed his magic from a series of spells into a uniquely singular one. I imagine Albus will sort him out, soon enough. I have never before seen him struggle to manage this kind of chaos," Remus finally chuckled. "It's been quite a day, hasn't it?" When Harry didn't reply, he glanced over at the rigid teen. He knew exactly why Harry was so tense, but felt helpless to offset the young wizard's discomfort. He had no words that hadn't already been said on the matter of the Dursleys' horrible comportment. "Shall we do some spellwork, Harry?"
"We missed lunch," Harry grumbled without acknowledging Remus' offer. "Do you reckon we could go to the Kitchens?"
0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0ooo0
Alec Bleasedale was having a really bad day. He just knew he was in huge trouble. He needed to talk to Harry Potter and get advice on what to do! He was walking briskly through the Grand Entrance when he heard Harry's approaching voice, and stopped to wait for him to appear.
"How did you know Severus knew how to handle a gun?" Harry was asking Remus, feeling a tad better after having eaten a good lunch.
"Hi Harry," the second year Slytherin said quietly to Harry as the fifth year wizard and Remus crested the top of the stairwell on their return from their jaunt to the Kitchens. Alec clearly realized belatedly that Harry was walking with a professor, and quickly turned his back to walk away.
Harry had seen that Alec was crying, and took a couple of quick steps to catch up to the younger wizard. "What's wrong? Alec! hold up, will you?" He waited while the skinny second year stopped and seemingly girded up his courage to face Harry.
In the meantime Remus had come closer. "Mr. Bleasedale, what has you so upset?" he asked kindly.
Alec turned to face them with real fear in his eyes. "I swear I only did it in defense!"
"That was you?" Harry asked. "Blimey, Alec, what did you cast at him?"
"Everything I could think of! Protego, Payasas, Viscosi….. He was scaring me, and chasing me!" Alec said, and fell back into genuinely traumatized sobs. "And, I swear, he cast something at me first…"
"McClaggen can be a git, you don't have to tell me that," Harry said, and he completely believed Alec. He went over to the crying kid and put a hand on his shoulder. He flashed a look at Remus.
"Alec," Remus said, stepping closer again, arms folded. "It sounds as if all of this was simply a bad moment for each of you. Mr. McClaggen contends that you overreacted to his upset, so I imagine there's some truth in what each of you experienced. The most important thing now is that we find a way to return Cormack's feet to their normal size." That was the point where the humorous scenario finally got the better of him. He turned away to try to hide how hard he was laughing. "That spell, Harry!"
"I know," Harry agreed, wishing he felt like laughing too. To Alec, he said, "They managed to get Cormack unstuck from the corridor floor, but his feet just won't go back." He put an arm around Alec and said, "Let's go tell Dumbledore. It will be alright."
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In the time it took for Harry to return to Dumbledore's office with Alec, all of the others, including McClaggen had been healed and sent off. Lucius and Severus had stayed and reviewed the morning's events that they'd experienced, first in Hogsmeade for the interviews, then the sighting of Wormtail with the ring horcrux, and finally the horrible showdown at Privet Drive.
"We don't even know what Bellatrix thought she was going to achieve by going to the Dursleys," Lucius declared. "Clearly she intended to lure Harry there."
"We're not entirely sure of what we came upon," Severus added, "and it was over in a second. Credit is due to Vernon Dursley, if truth be told."
"Yes, but when Remus passed the gun to you, Severus, you seemed rather well versed on it's function!" Lucius said in a tone that might suggest disapproval.
Severus eyed his best friend. No doubt the wolf would have similar sentiments. He wondered what Harry had thought of it? He sighed before finally acknowledging Lucius. "My father fought in the second muggle World War. He was a drunk and a surly bastard who couldn't hold a decent job, but he was quite deft with a firearm, and he made sure I was as well. I was wise enough to realize as a child that I'd better master the handling of guns, for my own sake, while living in that household." He took a deep, calming breath. "I'm quite disturbed to know that Harry grew up with someone who hated him enough to turn a gun on him."
His comments were met with galled silence. The two Slytherins and the Headmaster stood, facing each other and unable to find further words to comment, until Severus spoke again. "I'm left with no doubt that Harry would not have survived another day with his relatives."
And then Harry entered with the terrified Slytherin and their attention was redirected once again.
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Harry, may I please….. speak with you in private,….. at a time that is….. convenient for you?
Harry replied that he was alone on the Astronomy Tower at the moment, if Lucius wanted to join him up here for that chat. As if he's not monitoring me on the Map, he thought sarcastically. The feeling of needing to guard himself from everyone was stronger than ever now, so he wasn't sure ol' Lucius would be satisfied with Harry's response to whatever he wanted to propose.
It had been a very, very unsettling experience at Privet Drive earlier. Uncle Vernon pointed a gun at me. Harry rubbed his sore ear. Aunt Petunia had blatantly hurt him in front of an audience - an all time new low for her! And then Dudley, apologizing and thanking him. That had been the weirdest part. And it had left him feeling feelings that he didn't know what to do with, and didn't understand. He could tell that Severus had immediately known he was off kilter, but hadn't really known how to help. He'd admitted as much as he'd gripped Harry's shoulders with heavy hands, just before they'd apparated back.
"One of the most difficult lessons of childhood, Harry, is recognizing that adults are often more emotionally inept than you are," Severus had said to him. Harry had a sense of what he meant, but not a strong sense… "As for what just occurred, sometimes we simply have to let unsettling experiences... settle."
"There you are, lad," Lucius said from behind Harry.
Harry turned to him, not trying to rearrange his troubled frown. He didn't care if Lucius saw that he was feeling cross and unfriendly. Lucius certainly hadn't cared if he'd communicated the same sentiments in the past. Fair was fair.
"Today was very, very troubling, wasn't it?" Lucius asked. When Harry only stared back at him, he went on with the thoughts that had been pressing into his mind, with stronger and stronger urgency, since he'd turned this corner with young Harry Potter. "Harry, do you yet have plans for where you will make your home, once you've emancipated?"
Harry blinked. Frankly, he'd been surprised that at least one of the adults in his life hadn't challenged him on this detail so far. But no one had. He had not expected to be asked this question just now, however. He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to dislodge the tightness in his chest that would make him sound wounded or vulnerable when he spoke. I'm not wounded. I'm not vulnerable. I'm ready to be on my own. "I'll take a room at The Three Broomsticks, or The Leaky Cauldron, or some muggle establishment at first. I've asked Roarshirak to be ready to help me when I decide what I want to do. I don't want to live at Grimmauld Place, unless I can rid it of all of the awful dark history. I don't even know how I could do that, or if Kreacher could stand it."
"You'll need accommodations as early as the spring holidays," Lucius reminded Harry. Harry nodded, but his expression suggested he was not interested in what he suspected Lucius wanted to offer: a room at Malfoy Manor. Lucius took this as a cue to tread very carefully. "I've thought a lot about what you might do next, Harry. I've worried for your sake-"
"I'll be just fine on my own-"
"I've no doubt, lad," Lucius said quickly, and with far, far more patience than a recent version of himself would typically yield at being interrupted by a juvenile. "I've no doubt at all that you'd be careful and responsible in your own space. That's not my concern, Harry. Please hear me out. I only wish to offer some food for thought to you, alright?" He was relieved when Harry checked himself and nodded with his eyes glaring off to the distance. "You are planning to be on your own, as is your right," he said softly. "But somewhere in that vision of what the future might look like for you, are you thinking about what it would take to make you feel safe? and protected?"
"I've thought of that, sir," Harry said. He was still very guarded, and his voice had an edge that he was unable to soften, even though he could tell Lucius was genuinely trying to offer advice. "I know I can pay to have a professional place security wards on my home. One day, I'll learn to do it myself, but in the meantime, I know I'll need it."
"Look at me, Harry," Lucius requested. He waited… and waited, until the boy finally dragged his troubled eyes back to his. "You most definitely can pay a professional to keep you safe and protected from danger. But what about…," he paused to search for the best words to explain what he most wanted for Harry, "what about feeling safe to be yourself? What about having a sense of comfort that you are welcome in your own home, and expected to be yourself there? Do you have to be alone to have that security?"
"Right now I do," Harry said roughly.
"Do you?" Lucius asked. He was not foolish enough to believe that Harry would be entirely comfortable at Malfoy Manor, his grand estate, with servants, and an unspoken dress code, and table manners, and proper comportment required at all times. "Do you not feel you can be your true self when you are in your bedroom in Severus' quarters, for example?"
Harry frowned. "I don't know," he said roughly, again. A pressure was building, in a form that he didn't know how to interpret. He just knew he was going to go off soon. "I don't want to talk about this any more!"
"Alright," Lucius conceded. "I'm sorry if I've upset you." Harry wouldn't look at him again, and just shook his head to acknowledge the apology. Lucius inhaled deeply through his nose, daring to make his final assessment. "I will leave you alone, lad. But just know that today's events really struck me, really showed me what you've had to deal with, all through your childhood. How could you possibly know what home is? What it should feel like? Did that house ever feel like home, at any point in your life?"
"No," Harry said firmly. But Lucius had struck a chord that resonated with him. "I understand what you're saying, sir. I've had that feeling of home a few times. The Burrow feels like home sometimes. They're always happy to see me there. And Hogwarts sometimes, too. At least it did. Until the Tournament. It's been different since then."
Lucius stepped closer to Harry and pulled him close for an embrace that he hoped offered real comfort. "Just things to think about. We each have to determine for ourselves what home is, Harry. And then set out to create it. That's something you can keep in mind as you choose your way."
A/N: I've got time off now, so *fingers crossed* I intend to spend a lot more time on this. 'Tis the season, after all.
