Chapter 15: Might as Well Break More Rules
The other end of the fire had some familiar faces. Fred and George Weasley stared in shock as Harry stepped through into what must have been the inside of Zonko's. The store was filled with Hogwarts kids, who had come out for Hogsmeade weekend. Much fuller of life and excitement than Gambol and Japes.
Fred and George Weasley began to bow before Harry.
"Chrome-plated balls mate! Chrome-plated!" Fred exclaimed.
"Snape went ballistic when he caught us in the invisibility cloak instead of you!" George added.
Apparently, he had missed out on some excitement. Was Snape on the warpath?
"Oh? He's not looking for me, is he?"
Fred and George burst out laughing, slapping each other's knees.
"Were you in the castle the whole time? And you used a floo! Merlin! I'm dying!" said Fred, laughing so hard he was crying. George became inconsolable with laughter.
Harry waited for them to calm down. A whole group of students stared wide-eyed.
"What's waiting for me back at the castle?" he asked.
"Snape disappeared. No idea where he went. Flitwick had to tell him he would look for you in Hogsmeade. Are you going to be okay getting back? Need the cloak?" George patted Harry's back.
Harry waved his hands in front of him. "Not necessary. I have more mischief to get up to first. Actually, could I check the map for Snape?"
Fred saluted. "For a fellow mischief-maker? Of course."
They opened the map, Snape was nowhere in the castle, instead, he was in the Whomping Willow passage, unmoving.
"What's he doing in there?" asked George.
"Waiting for me," said Harry with a grin. He originally planned to hide the leftover Polyjuice and items he had obtained outside using the charm he had picked up for the shelter. Now, he had a better solution.
# # #
Harry ran out of the joke shop, making sure to avoid any teachers in the crowd. He had handed off half of his stash of items to Fred and George for them to smuggle back to the spot at the entrance to the Honeyduke's passage. Among them was the Polyjuice disguised as some calming draught. The best part was Fred and George had the invisibility cloak. Their chances of getting caught was almost zero, while he took the fire, he would get caught with a broom he had openly purchased in Diagon.
The Shrieking Shack loomed in the distance. Harry made as much noise as he could entering it, prepared to be assaulted by an angry Severus Snape. When he entered, the tent remained untouched. Snape didn't want to spook him. Just in case Snape was watching, Harry looked around suspiciously and began to stuff his contraband under the tent.
"Think you're the only one who knows this passage Potter?" a snarling Snape strode into view, "What this you're hiding now?" He loomed over Harry and moved the tent to find a moleskin bag of items. "Hmm, I'll have to inspect these items for contraband," Snape gleefully sang.
"You can't confiscate anything. I didn't attempt to bring them onto school grounds. Unless it's illegal, you can't touch my stuff," Harry confidently declared.
Snape paused; a vein ready to burst in his head, he calmed instantly. "Very well Potter. I'll check you and your bag. But we'll leave it here. I'm taking you to Dumbledore and you can explain to him these technicalities and of course why you shouldn't be expelled for leaving the school without permission. I have you Potter. You may talk down whatever punishment you have, but it won't be because I overstepped. Oh no! You're not slipping out of this one!"
Snape carefully took everything out of the bag, until he turned red with excitement at the final thing.
"A broom! How interesting Potter. I wonder what you planned to do with it? You can't fly a broom at Hogwarts, and you can't fly it around your muggle relatives. What need do you have for a broom? And this tent… why, it looks as if you had a little plan to escape here for the summer," Snape gloated sarcastically.
Harry ground his teeth and glared at the obnoxious, greasy man.
"Nothing to say? I hope you're this talkative when we get to the Headmaster's Office!" Snape grabbed Harry by the arm and frog marched him out of the Shrieking Shack.
# # #
Snape had never let go of Harry's arm, as if afraid catching Harry was some dream that might slip away should he loosen his grip. They entered the Headmaster's Office, where Dumbledore sat at his desk. The previously empty bird perch had a fully-grown phoenix. Which cooed on their entrance.
"I caught him sneaking through the Whomping Willow passageway Headmaster," Snape buzzed with excitement, "He had a broom, and assorted joke items hidden in the Shrieking Shack. I TOLD you he would try something! I told you!"
Dumbledore put a finger into the air, "Severus, I am aware of Harry's little escape to Diagon. I think it best if I talk to Harry without your presence. Needless to say, the boy will have detention for the foreseeable future. Is there anything you wish to add?"
"No, Headmaster. As we agreed, I'm hands-off with the boy!" Snape laughed.
"Good."
The Potion Master left in a flurry of robes.
"Harry, why? Why are you intent on running away? Can't we work together to make your home a safe place? Why does it come to this?" Dumbledore let his half-moon spectacles fall down his face in disappointment.
"Send me to the Dursleys and I will run away. This is your last chance Headmaster, call off whoever you're sending to 'guard' me, and let me disappear for the summer," Harry warned.
Dumbledore's eyebrows raised to his hairline. "Harry, I cannot do that. I am accountable for your safety. Your guardianship unfortunately remains with your Aunt and Uncle for the time being. We'll work around everything else, but the blood protections on Privet Drive are worth at least having as a backup."
"You never intended for me to go anywhere else, did you? I promise, you'll regret this," Harry snarled.
"A promise you are in no position to keep. You have been caught. Can't you make peace with the family you have left? You can leave every birthday if you so wish."
A flood of relentless anger coursed through Harry as he had never felt it before. Who the hell did he think he was?! The phoenix began to sing, the song was sad and soothing. It reminded Harry of Tom's words.
"I don't want peace with my family. Whatever you're projecting onto my family is not there," Harry insisted.
"Family is family Harry. You're bonded by blood and love, whether you want it or not. The evidence is in the very magic I placed upon the house. It is an extension of the protection your mother's love provides to this day. The very magic which allowed you to survive Voldemort's curse the first time."
Harry sighed sadly. The headmaster was unreachable. He thought giving him an explanation about the magic would make him appreciate his family more? "What's my punishment?"
# # #
"SIX HOURS A WEEK!?" Tracey screamed out in the Great Hall. They sat at the Slytherin table for lunch before DADA.
"For the rest of the year," Harry affirmed, taking a slice of roast beef.
"Why didn't you use the cloak?" Tracey whispered seething.
"I didn't think I'd need it," he said.
After being dismissed from the Headmaster's office, Harry had collected his items from the passageway and brought them safely into his trunk. Snape walked around the castle in a fantastic mood too, he ought to get caught more often. No map, no cloak, no way to access his broom without bringing it back onto the grounds—Snape thought he was checkmated. No, he had gotten caught that way on purpose.
Harry scrunched his brow and shook with pretend anger.
"I don't believe you. But do you," Tracey rolled her eyes and piled some ham on her plate with a dollop of mustard. "Who do you have detention with?"
"Quirrell and McGonagall," Harry grimaced.
Tracey dropped her fork. "Damn. And here I thought you'd get Snape."
"Dumbledore trusts McGonagall to go hard on me. It also neutralizes Quirrell…" Harry squinted his eyes searching for Quirrell from his peripheral. The man minded his own business, harmlessly cutting into some food.
"Huh?" Tracey giggled. "Quirrell? Are we talking about the same teacher?"
"Yes. He's dangerous. Don't find yourself alone with him." Quirrell's eyes flickered onto Harry, and he smiled weakly. To Harry, the man's put-on smile felt sinister.
# # #
The next night, Harry was scheduled for detention with Quirrell. The turban wrapped man waited for him in the trophy room. The room was a massive side room with an assortment of trophies going back centuries in some cases, some the size of Harry. Dusty shelves of medals filled the walls, and even the stone floor was dusty. The lighting was very slight, and Quirrell's footprints made footprints in the dust.
"M-Mr. Potter, c-c-come in. You're an intelligent b-boy, I assume you can figure out how to p-p-polish. Start on that case, n-no m-m-magic" Quirrell threw a rag at Harry and pointed to a case in the center of the room.
Harry started from the top and made his way down. These trophies and medals were all from decades ago. Thankfully, years at the Dursley's meant Harry was proficient in all household chores. It didn't matter how quickly he went though. He focused inward and practiced his occlumency. Meditating while doing menial tasks, partitioning and strengthening his mind. He blanked out and drifted somewhere far away, letting the time slip by as if it were nothing.
Then, while he was polishing a particular trophy on the bottom shelf, there was a foreign spike of glee in his mind. He pushed it away, but the foreign spike of glee took him out of his meditative state. His eyes focused on the trophy.
"For Services to the School: TOM RIDDLE"
Harry almost dropped the trophy in surprise. The name! Quirrell had been walking around with a Tom Riddle. It might be another one of Voldemort's agents!
"Something the matter Harry?" Quirrell looked up from a book he was reading.
"Just feel like I've seen the name elsewhere…" Harry replied, not daring to pretend he hadn't reacted.
Quirrell walked with a slight limp towards him and looked over his shoulder. "T-T-Tom Riddle? Hmm… He might have been famous. I believe he disappeared soon after graduating. Presumed dead. Shame, he was a talented wizard I am told." He was dead? No. Tom Riddle was alive and at Hogwarts! Why would Quirrell lie to him?! Harry felt the back of his neck prickle. Quirrell whispered without a stutter, "You've a very good memory, Mr. Potter."
Harry's sense of unease increased rapidly. Dumbledore knew about Quirrell, but from Quirrell's reaction, Tom Riddle was more than just another agent of the Dark Lord. Why would he say a man who was definitely alive was dead, unless he was truly presumed dead? In which case Dumbledore needed to know!
Harry snapped his fingers and pointed. "I saw a picture of the trophy room in a picture of my father! He did lead the Quidditch team to victory after all."
Quirrell's hands hovered over his shoulders. "You…" He withdrew. "You l-l-look up to your father th-then?"
"Not particularly. I'm not much for sport."
"Hmm, w-well, it's about that t-time anyway. Why d-d-don't you g-go to your dorm?"
Harry put down the rag and went straight to Ravenclaw Tower. Something about the interaction he just had was putting his senses on high alert. While walking through a lengthy torchlit hallway, he swore he heard something. Every time he turned around, there was nothing.
The now deathly silence made him uneasy. Was he paranoid? He felt a tingling on the back of his neck, an intuition someone was watching him. There was one more hallway, was Quirrell chasing him? Harry didn't care how silly he felt, he made a sprint down the last corridor.
Finally, he got to the spiral staircase which he ran up in a hurry as if he was being chased. Until he paused midway around a bend. Harry strained his ears, and sure enough, there was breathing at the bottom of the stairs. Quirrell had followed him! His heart beat both from the sprint and fear, it was all he could do to hold his breath to prevent the man from hearing. The breathing faded away after a minute. But Harry slowly made his way up the steps to avoid making noise.
"I flow like water, but have no substance. I exist in your head, but can also be lost. What am I?" the eagle knocker cawed when he finally approached it.
"Stream of consciousness," Harry answered as the door opened for him. He shut it behind him quickly, his heart was beating at a mile a minute. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck.
He needed to tell Dumbledore.
# # #
Many many times over the next few weeks, Harry attempted to get in touch with Dumbledore, to no avail. The old man avoided him, and all of the teachers dismissed him. They thought he was trying to get Dumbledore's ear on this summer! When Harry tried to approach the Headmaster's table during dinner, he felt Quirrell's eyes. It made his scar hurt, like the nightmares did. McGonagall especially wouldn't hear a word out of Harry's mouth in their detentions or after class.
The snow melted, winter gave way, and soon April was upon the school. Easter break had begun; it meant a reprieve from the constant detentions. Tracey went home while Neville and he stayed at the school. Harry found himself caring less and less that there was a supposedly dead guy roaming about the grounds. What little research he had done had turned up nothing. Prefect, services to the school, but no details. The files had been scrubbed or didn't exist.
Ravenclaw House became a flurry of activity. The Easter Break was skipped by all Ravenclaw students fifth year and above for their OWLS and NEWTS. Michael Corner had even been cursed by a cranky older student trying to study for 'breathing too loudly'. The younger students learned to stay away from the common rooms and library as best they could.
For all the flowers and springtime, Harry began to fall into a funk. It felt like there was a huge axe over him in the form of two months from now. The pressure from Quirrell, the Dark Lord, Dumbledore, and whatever the secret of Tom Riddle was. Every day his magic progressed, but with it came no increase in freedom. Instead, his powers underlined the slow grind that had become his life. It was with this morose and sullen feeling that Harry stirred eggs around his plate on the first day of break, at the Gryffindor table with Neville.
Neville chatted happily with Ron and Hermione across the table, while Harry kept out of the conversation. When Ron and Hermione weren't at each other's throats, they weren't terrible to hang out with. Ron was smarter than he let on, even if he wasn't the most talented of wizards by any stretch. Including him added the balance Hermione needed to chill out. Harry's detentions helped to soften her further as well.
"What do you think it's guarding Neville?" asked Hermione, raising her voice. Her and Ron were arguing over something or other.
"I don't know, could be anything under the trapdoor," Neville whispered, and looked back at Harry guiltily.
"What happened?" Harry asked uninterestedly.
Hermione whispered sharply to Neville who nodded along.
"You have to promise not to say anything," Hermione demanded, crossing her arms from across the table.
"Mmm," Harry responded affirmatively, his mouth stuffed with pancake. He needed something sweet to soothe his soul.
"We went to the third-floor corridor by accident, there's a three-headed dog!" Ron bragged.
Harry almost spat out his pancake. The corridor was dangerous! He had warned Neville against it, but hadn't informed him about the specifics. Dumbledore's business after all, not something Neville should be involved in. He swallowed his mouth full of food painfully.
"Do not under any circumstances go near there!" Harry warned sternly.
"We know, we know," Neville attempted to calm Harry, "We just want to know what it's guarding and why."
"I bet Hagrid might know!" said Ron excitedly, "My brother Charlie says Hagrid is mad about creatures and stuff."
A wild goose chase finding out about the stone would keep them away from the blasted corridor. Hagrid could slip up again, but Flamel was old and obscure. The book-lover Hermione Granger would struggle to find the name, and Neville was too forgetful to remember a single name on his chocolate frog cards.
"I bet he does. I asked Hagrid, but he refused to tell me anything," said Harry.
# # #
The sun fell behind the horizon. Harry stared out at the black lake; its dark depths absorbed his gaze. Maybe in the future, he would explore to the bottom: he could grab some gillyweed, learn mermish, make a secret location for future Hogwarts students to find…
Neville and his Gryffindor bunch were visiting Hagrid, Harry had declined the invitation to go with them. Hagrid would understand.
Harry stood alone at the water's edge; the moonlight reflected off the still surface. Spring had come, but nights remained chilly over the water especially. The stillness was only magnified by the lack of any active wildlife. Most creatures retreated into the Forbidden Forest. Harry shuddered at the complete emptiness; he was alone. It was like the Dursley's, except instead of the sun in the garden, it was the moon near the Forbidden Forest.
"What's stopping me from having an adventure now? I'm already in trouble forever," said Harry to himself.
To his left, the Forbidden Forest bid him entrance. He felt drawn to it. From what he knew the forest went on a considerable distance, being home to many magical creatures, some sentient, not connected with Hogwarts. A crazy voice in the back of his head told him to enter. What were they going to do? Give him detention? He needed to do something or he would go insane. He needed to feel like he could escape into the woods if he wanted to.
With his mind made up, Harry turned from the banks of the lake, and marched into the Forbidden Forest. Since he had come in from an odd location, there was no path, and since he didn't want to be seen, it was dark without the use of wandlight. The trees were so densely packed, Harry could touch two at a time if he spread his arms out. It further reduced his ability to see ahead. Where the ground wasn't slightly muddy, it was filled with tree roots and rocks. Harry's progress through the forest was slow, as he made his way Northeast, heading away from the castle at an angle.
When the lights from the castle disappeared and the trees began to thicken and spread out, Harry heard a noise in the distance. A rough scratching noise that echoed out, like someone was rubbing together two pieces of sandpaper. Harry approached the noise, using his wand to silence his steps.
Eventually, he came across a small clearing, where the source of the noise was revealed. A giant spider feasting on the flesh of some unrecognizable creature. The body of the spider was the size of Dudley, and the limbs longer still. Whatever the creature was, all that remained were scraps of meat in an unsightly pile. The spider used its hairy limbs to examine scraps before throwing them slowly into a pair of drooling mandibles.
The spider began to make clicking noises, Harry watched with horror, but remained hidden in his spot.
"Human, I can smell you. Are you Hagrid?" the spider spoke.
Harry felt adrenaline rush through him like liquid ice. A talking spider meant one thing—this was an acromantula. It knew Hagrid?
"No. I am not Hagrid. You know Hagrid?" Harry asked.
"Aragog says we are to leave Hagrid alone. You are not Hagrid," the spider said matter-of-factly. It began to skitter towards him. Harry knew it would suddenly pounce when it got within distance. He also knew they were social animals. There was suddenly a rustling from above!
Harry whipped his wand above him into the trees, and cast a spell at a much smaller acromantula which had descended from the trees almost on top of him. It flew away, Harry pointed at the large spider in the clearing which had stopped skittering.
"I am Hagrid's friend. And I refrained from killing your child. You are not the predator here," Harry blustered. The spider began to click rapidly. Harry silenced it with a spell. "I am not afraid of your kind, but continue to communicate with your buddies and I will end you," he warned and then undid the spell so the creature could talk.
"Friend of Hagrid. Are you the one hunting the unicorns? Aragog said to avoid the unicorn hunter," the spider stated emotionlessly.
His dream, the unicorn. Were they connected? Was he a seer? Or did his dream mean something more? He had not hunted a unicorn, no. But he knew the guilt. He knew the taste of its blood.
Someone else hunting unicorns in the forest though, someone giant spiders would avoid…
"Did he say why?" Harry asked.
The spider began to click rapidly. "Danger. Mortal enemy."
"A wizard is your mortal enemy?" Wizards and acromantulas were always at odds. It didn't explain why they would avoid one particular wizard.
"No. Humans are prey." The clicking calmed down. "You are not the one."
Other acromantulas might come across them, which would put him in a tough spot. He needed to flee. Should he kill this creature? It had just attempted to eat him… No, he wanted to come back, not create a problem for him and Hagrid in the future. Maybe Hagrid could ask this Aragog about whoever was hunting unicorns. Only dark creatures or madmen would do so.
The spider began to scuttle discreetly towards him while it thought he was distracted.
"Immobilus!" a red jet of light struck the spider and caused it to freeze in place. "You'll be like that for only a few minutes. Don't worry, I know your kind's cannibalism," said Harry. He ran off, catching as the small spider scuttled from behind a tree into the clearing to guard the frozen figure.
Using the stars he had learned in Astronomy, Harry navigated his way North in almost complete darkness until he found a barely recognizable path. West would lead to Hagrid's hut; East would lead further into the Forbidden Forest. Harry looked both ways.
The night was young! He couldn't go back to the castle, some aspect of destiny called him further into the forest! He turned his back in the direction of Hogwarts and walked along. The winding dirt path made its way past larger and larger trees. From the rumors, the forest should extend into multiple other territories of magical beast. Hogwarts slotted into a small part of a much larger magical Scottish landscape. Much to Harry's chagrin, information about the Forbidden Forest was restricted by the Ministry.
"An invisibility cloak would have been useful," he muttered to himself before shaking his head. It would be a massive crutch. And in the case of the spider, may have led to his death.
The path came to a crossroads with a crude sign, Harry would bet all the Black vault that it was Hagrid's handwriting. Going right would send him back to the spider's territory. The sign pointing left read "Centaur Territory."
Centaurs might be unfriendly, but he doubted they were a threat. Killing a Hogwarts student was not in their best interest, and they were the only inhabitants of the forest he could trust to abide by that interest.
"Tempus," Harry whispered; the time displayed as nine twenty-seven in the evening. Late enough to be required to retire to his common room at Hogwarts, early enough that the centaurs would not be asleep. The forest around him rustled in the wind from the treetops. Harry took off in the direction of the centaurs, dragged on by his need for adventure. Or something more.
The path opened up as Harry made his way north, the trees were now giant hulking masses of wood, the width of houses and many stories up. As Harry examined the treetops, he noticed smoke in the distance. The path now was trodden upon quite clearly by horse hooves.
Movement appeared in his peripheral. Harry turned towards the sides of the forest path, and saw centaur shadows silently appear from out of the brush, he could barely make out arrows notched and aimed in his direction.
"You're surrounded. State your purpose human," a particularly dark shadow stated in an angry voice.
"I wanted to meet the noble centaurs," Harry replied evenly.
"Yet you come under the cover of darkness! You, in the guise of a youngling, dare to make incursions on our territory?!" the shadow shot back.
"A light would attract attention from more than the noble centaurs of this forest."
"…"
"You don't belong here youngling, tell us your true purpose in full," a different centaur male with shining blonde hair and a palomino coat made his way into a beam of moonlight as he trotted towards Harry.
The centaurs were known to be amazing diviners, the fullness of an explanation they might accept was sure to be reflective of this fact. Intent and destiny were huge in centaur culture.
"I felt stifled, imprisoned by my circumstances in the world of wizards. I… was overcome with a desire to escape into the forest. After my encounter with an acromantula, I decided not to test my luck with the unknown. Centaurs have a good reputation as honorable. My intent was not to intrude upon your territory in a secretive way, but to make contact."
A multitude of whispering came from the brush, the dark-skinned centaur also made his way into the moonlight, his expression far fiercer than the serene blonde-haired centaur. His coat all black.
"What is your angle in establishing contact?" the darker centaur asked, his dark eyes glinting.
"Curiosity and friendship," Harry answered without hesitating.
"You are a child arrogant human! Do you consider yourself on an equal footing to an adult centaur?! Think to brag to your fellow children?" the centaur stomped over in front of Harry, using his considerable height to intimidate.
Harry lit the tip of his wand wordlessly. Flashing right in the angry centaur's eyes, who stumbled back.
"Saying my friendship is beneath you and yet managing to also be insulted. An accomplishment to say the least. Does your pride mean I cannot have any for myself?"
"Enough, Bane," a red-haired centaur with a chestnut coat said in a calming tone. He walked out onto the path, lowering his bow. Three centaurs now surrounded Harry. "Bickering with a child is beneath our dignity. Child, I take your desire to communicate with us as respect. But we cannot-"
"It's HIM Ronan!" the blonde centaur gasped, pointing to Harry's forehead, now in the wandlight.
"Firenze, say no more!" snapped Bane.
Harry grinned devilishly. "Say no more? Suspicious. My boy-who-lived title would not elicit such a reaction in centaurs—there's something more…"
"We do not interfere with destiny or the struggles of humans," Ronan stated in a mellow tone, "Your fishing will get you no further, clever child."
Harry frowned. This Ronan ruined his fun. Something had called him here. His dream, the spider, the centaur—they meant something.
"But the anomaly!" Firenze protested, "He must be informed! Can you not see that we will be swept up in the storm as well?!"
Ronan sighed defeatedly.
"Firenze shut your mouth! Your desire to help the humans will doom us all!" Bane screamed such that even his dark face became slightly flushed.
Harry could see from the shuffling of the shadowy centaurs now locked onto the blonde centaur; Firenze stood alone in this. He would not be making friends by arguing along with Firenze or encouraging him. Even the honor of the centaurs would not protect him should they consider him a harbinger of doom. An anomaly though? Having to do with him? Knowing centaurs, it was astronomical, their form of predicting the future. Harry didn't know if he fully bought the methods of seers, but there might be something worth looking into.
"Firenze, do not create hostility amongst your fellows on my account." Harry bowed deeply.
The pale centaur deflated; he saw where the winds were blowing. "I am overruled, oh child of destiny."
"I care not what wind blew you in our direction young one, you must leave now," Ronan said with a firm but dreamlike tone.
Harry bowed. "Might I know what lies further into the forest?"
"Nothing for you to know human. The centaurs' territory blocks off Hogwarts from the rest of the forest! If your ministry wishes to use us to protect their young, they bear the consequences for doing so. We will not accept incursions into our territory. Do not think to take advantage of our honor, if you are found trying to get through our territory, eventually our patience will be at an end." Bane huffed with crossed arms. To emphasize the point Harry heard the creaking of bowstrings being drawn from the brush around him.
"Will I require armed escort? Or may I leave under my own power?" asked Harry.