Harry opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep from them. He looked around the room surprised to still find himself in what he assumed were the headmaster's quarters. He had half expected to wake up back in his cupboard. He stretched out languidly and let out a yawn. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had slept so well. It felt nice not to worry about falling out of bed or having his toes be cold from the too short blanket.
"Master Potter!" A small voice squeaked from the corner. "You is awake."
Harry sat up in alarm, but relaxed as he realized it was the house elf from the day before. She was smiling at him and he smiled back awkwardly.
"Er, how long have you been there for?" Harry asked, feeling a bit self conscious.
"Not long at all, Master Potter." The house elf answered. "Master Dumbledore sent me to help you get ready. I can show you to the bath if you like?"
Harry nodded and reluctantly peeled himself from the warm covers. The little elf took him by the hand and Harry followed her through the winding hallway to the bathroom. He was awed by the sight of the large marble tub and at least two dozen taps.
"I will help you get in." The house elf said and snapped her fingers. Harry found himself unclothed rather suddenly and sitting in the middle of the tub. He scrambled to cover himself now feeling very insecure in the whole situation. He watched as two of the taps turned themselves and opened to let out a stream of bright blue water with the oddest colored purple bubbles.
He relaxed as the warm water hit his skin and covered his nakedness. Harry couldn't remember ever having a bath. His relatives had always been set on him getting in and out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. The bubbles tickled his nose and he fought back a sneeze. 'If the Dursleys could see me now' He thought with a small grin. Their bathroom paled in comparison to the luxurious marble tub and heated stone floors.
The house elf then snapped again and Harry found himself getting shampooed and washed by several enchanted scrub brushes. They fell into the tub and he felt a bucket of clear, warm water wash away the suds before he found himself back in the middle of the room clothed and dry. Magic was really something he could get used to.
"Wow." He muttered as he stared at the elf in wonder. If anything, she was efficient. Harry would have liked to enjoy the bath a bit more, but he supposed the headmaster was probably waiting for him. The house elf led him back through the hallway and into the headmaster's office.
"Will you be requiring anything else, Master Dumbledore?" The house elf asked and the aged wizard shook his head with a small smile before she left the pair alone.
"Good morning, Harry. I hope you slept well?" The headmaster asked him and Harry nodded. He still wasn't sure what the old man wanted from him. He had answered the man's questions last night with as much honesty as he could muster, but he knew the wizard wanted to know more. His twinkling blue eyes seemed to scream out as much. Harry was determined to try and gauge the situation better. Adults were not to be trusted, except for maybe the professor. Although, he wasn't entirely convinced of her motives yet either.
"I have arranged for us to take our breakfast in Professor McGonagall quarters." The headmaster said with a smile. "The rest of the students are eating in the grand hall and I thought you might enjoy seeing more of the castle on our walk there. How does that sound, my boy?"
Harry nodded enthusiastically, letting his mistrust of the situation slip away for a moment. He was so excited to see the castle and seeing a familiar face would be nice. He didn't feel as if the professor wanted to dissect him unlike the headmaster.
The pair headed down the winding staircase and Harry was surprised to see the office had no door, but rather a large gargoyle guarding the entrance. Harry had a hard time keeping up with the headmaster despite his rather casual pace as they walked towards the professor's rooms. He couldn't help but look around constantly at the moving portraits and shifting staircases. He had known pictures could move, but these portraits seemed to be alive. Some of them even hopped between frames to follow the headmaster and Harry as they walked. He wondered if there were any of his parents. He would love to be able to really talk to them instead of talking at their photograph.
"Ah, here we are." The headmaster said as they reached a rather large portrait of a sleeping lion. The man scratched at the lion's ear and it let out a tremendous roar which made Harry leap, but the portrait opened to reveal a rather cozy looking sitting room. Harry stepped through reluctantly as he took one last look at the Hogwarts' staircases in awe. He had really hoped to see a student or two on their way. It would make the whole thing seem more real.
The room had two plush armchairs and a small sofa that was covered in a bright blue and green tartan blanket. The mantle had many photo frames of smiling and waving wizards. The headmaster went to seek out the professor as Harry looked closer at the pictures. Harry saw a man with two little girls who looked remarkably like the older woman. He wondered if they were her children. He didn't think of the professor as a mother and she had certainly never mentioned a husband. Perhaps they were relatives? Harry's musings were cut short as the two older people returned.
Professor McGonagall was floating a tray of tea and some bangers and eggs. Harry could feel his mouth water at the sight of food. The Dursley's had neglected to feed him after he had returned from school and his stomach was growling in rebellion. It seemed one day of proper nourishment had made him greedy for more.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall greeted and the tray set itself upon the table. "Let's tuck in, shall we?"
Harry watched as the two adults took their portions first and very quickly snatched his own items from the platter lest they be taken away. He didn't notice the concerned gaze of the witch or the subtle frown of the wizard as he chowed down heartily. The food was as good as what the house elf had brought him for lunch the day before. He had cleared his plate and set it down carefully back on the platter.
"Would you like me to wash up now?" Harry asked with some hesitation. It was what the Dursleys would expect. The day before the plates had been banished before he had a chance to ask and while he knew they could be magicked away again he felt as if he owed the witch something for her continued kindness. He worried that if he wasn't grateful enough they wouldn't hesitate to send him back.
"While it is very kind of you to ask, Mr. Potter, there is no need." The professor used her wand and the dirtied dishes disappeared once more. The two adults now focused their attention on Harry and he couldn't help, but shift awkwardly in the armchair. He didn't like being the center of attention - it never led to good outcomes in his experience.
"Harry, do you know why you live with your relatives?" The headmaster asked him.
"No one else could take me." Harry grumbled out. He was annoyed that the conversation about his home life had to continue. Couldn't he just spend a day away from it all? The castle was so amazing. He just wanted to explore it more.
"Ah, that's not true. There are a great many families who would be overjoyed to have you under their roof. While yes, they would not be family as your aunt is in fact your last living relative I am sure they would have taken you as their own." The professor and headmaster shared a look that Harry almost missed in his sudden rush of anger. If plenty of people would have taken him, then why would he have been put with the one family who didn't? He ground his teeth to keep himself from speaking out of turn. His outbursts had done nothing, but landed him back into his cupboard and now that he was out of that home he would do nearly anything not to go back.
"No other guesses?" the headmaster asked and Harry shook his head. "It's because of this." He reached over and brushed Harry's hair aside so his scar was showing. Harry tentatively raised a hand to cover the mark. His aunt had always been quite upset whenever he had accidentally shifted his hair away from it. She had said it made him look more freak-ish and she didn't want anybody asking any questions.
"You should be proud of your scars, Harry. Life is a long journey and scars are there to remind us of the storms we have weathered. They give us strength by reminding us that we are resilient." the headmaster did not wait for Harry to reply before continuing. "That mark was given to you on the night your parents died. If it weren't for their sacrifice, we would not be having this conversation." His eyes lost their twinkle and Harry shifted his eyes down to the floor. He didn't like when people got upset around him especially when it was for something they thought he did. He couldn't remember the night his parents died and all he had learned from the professor was that it wasn't a car crash. He ran his fingertips over the slightly lifted skin that made the thunderbolt across his brow. Harry had never been able to explain how the mark was so unusual in shape or why sometimes when he had bad dreams it seemed to throb.
"Your mother created that scar, Harry. On that night, a dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort had broken into your home. Your father fought valiantly and was able to get word back to us that they were under attack. However, Lord Voldemort proved too powerful and he surged upstairs to where your mother was trying to get you to safety. He offered to spare her." the headmaster paused and Harry noticed with surprise that his own cheeks were wet with tears. He hadn't even known that he had started crying. He sniffed back further leakage and looked up at the headmaster begging him to continue. If his mother had been given the chance to live, why hadn't she taken it? She could have had other children. He needed to know.
"Instead, she begged for your life. Lord Voldemort told her to get out of the way, but she refused to stop protecting you. Finally, knowing that he did not have much time until we arrived, he killed your mother and turned to you. What he did not know was that your mother's love and her sacrifice had stripped him of his power to harm you. When he cast the killing curse it rebounded and caused him to be reduced to nothing more than ash. You survived the unsurvivable with that mark on your forehead as the only proof it ever happened." the headmaster had finished his story and Harry felt cold. He wrapped his arms around himself for comfort, not worried about his leaking nose or dripping eyes. His parents had died for him. He had spent so much time thinking they had left him alone when the whole time they had done what they had to keep him safe. He rocked for comfort, he was so angry at himself for ever believing his aunt or doubting in his parents. How could he have ever been so stupid? A pair of warm arms wrapped around him and Harry sobbed into the professor's shoulder.
"M'srry." He cried into her shoulder, but she shushed him and kept him close.
"Here, drink this. It'll help." She handed him a vial of cool blue liquid and Harry chugged it down without a second thought. Suddenly he felt his emotions subside and a cool tingly feeling seemed to cover him in an invisible blanket.
"I can't believe I ever believed them." Harry whispered softly and the professor let him go before locking eyes with him.
"Harry James Potter, don't you ever blame yourself for what those people have done." She scolded and hugged him fiercely again. "You are a child, you're supposed to listen to your guardians even if they are a couple of bumbling, lying, pompous ignoramuses. Your parents would not be upset with you for trusting them especially when they were your only source of information."
Harry wondered if it was true. Would his parents really understand that he had no idea until now how wonderful they had been? That they had given everything so he could live? Would they forgive how angry he had been about them leaving? Harry wished sorely that he had his photobook now. He needed to talk to them and tell them he was sorry.
"I'm sorry that you had to learn of it this way, Harry." The headmaster said sullenly, still sitting in the armchair opposite Harry. "I would have preferred that you were older, but I need you to understand how important it is that you stay with your aunt and uncle." Harry looked at him blankly, the effects of whatever the professor had given him seemed to override his natural instinct to shout at the man for ever insinuating he would return to Number 4. "Your mother's protection did not end that day, it lived on and will continue to as long as you reside with a blood relative of hers."
"Albus, there isn't any other way?" the professor asked him as she spun around away from Harry to face the old man. Harry thought the old witch looked quite fierce despite looking worn in.
"I'm afraid not. The blood wards on that home are Harry's best protection and we must not forget that there are those still loyal to their master that would try to harm him. I will not take chances with the boy's life when so many have given theirs to protect it." The old man stared at Professor McGonagall now and Harry could feel the tension.
He wished the professor hadn't given him whatever that drink had been so he could try to impress upon the headmaster how miserable things were and how he could do whatever it took to stay safe if he would just let him not go back there. However, it kept him placid and quiet.
The Dursleys would have it out for him after the two 'freaks' as his aunt would call them had invaded their home. He had a feeling too that Professor McGonagall wouldn't be able to return without suspicion. He frowned, despite the overwhelming feeling of calm, he was beginning to feel his sadness return. How was he supposed to just forget about magic and go back to being nobody?
A/n: This chapter had me blocked for a bit and I'm still not sure I've done it justice. Thank you for those of you who have favorited, followed or reviewed so far. Please, keep it coming. Your feedback and support is what helps me keep writing. :)