There is a disclaimer on all previous chapters and I do not recommend you reading this or any subsequent chapters before the earlier ones. This is a major reimagining of the original narrative of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and really needs to be read from the start.
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Chapter 30: Tea, toast and plans.
Harry woke early on the morning of the ninth of December to the sound of howling wind and rain buffeting the window of the dorm. He had been in the middle of an awful nightmare about Quirrel who had been following him around the Dursley's house and throwing broomsticks at him. The worst thing about the dream was that Quirrel was walking backward toward Harry, the back of his turban seeming to glow even in the brightly lit and impossibly clean kitchen.
Harry cuffed sweat from his forehead then rubbed his scar, remembering that it had been burning in the dream. He lay back down, used to strange dreams and tried to sleep to no avail – the weather was just too loud for him. Pulling open the curtains of his four poster, he started in alarm as he saw a tiny, pink creature with its back to him stoking the coals of the brazier in the middle of the dormitory. The creature started too, turning round and bowing deeply. It was maybe two feet tall, with overlong arms and hairless skin like that of a baby. It had a long, thin nose and very pointed chin that made its completely bald head look absurdly long and narrow and huge, slightly protuberant tennis ball-shaped eyes which sparkled in the dim light cast by the lanterns.
"We is sorry if we be waking you, sir." The creature that Harry now recognised from textbooks and cartoons as a house elf said.
"No, not at all, it was the weather." Harry replied.
"Yes, 'tis a terrible bad storm we're having tonight sir."
"Are you a house elf?" Harry asked tentatively, not wanting to offend the little creature if he was wrong.
The elf nodded, a motion that made its long thin nose waggle up and down. "I is sir, Dancy is I's name and you is Harry Potter sir."
Harry raised an eyebrow – did everyone in the world know his name? "That's right, I am. Why do you keep calling me sir?"
"It is part of the house elveses job, sir. We works for Headmaster Dumbledore who is a great and kind wizard but we are not forgetting our places, sir." Dancy gestured to his uniform which as he looked closed, Harry saw to be a crisp white towel knotted like a toga and fastened with a large – against the tiny creature – brass button bearing the Hogwarts emblem.
"What do you mean your place?"
"Well, many house elves aren't well treated by their masters, sir but Headmaster Dumbledore and Master Filch are kind and generous and we serve them happily. They even says we needn't call everyone sir and miss, but that would be a terrible thing for any self-respecting house elf."
Harry nodded, not really understanding much of what the elf was saying and deciding to talk to Hermione about it in a few hours. "Fair enough Dancy, do you know what time it is?"
The elf closed his – harry was pretty sure it was a 'he' – eyes for a heartbeat then smiled, "It is five minutes to five am, sir. Sir looks very awake now, unfortunately breakfast won't be served for more than an hour yet."
Harry was very awake now, the encounter with the elf had shaken the cobwebs of sleep away. "That's okay, I might go for a walk" It had been a long time since he'd checked on Niddhog.
"If sir is hungry, it would be no trouble at all for Dancy to bring Mr Harry Potter sir a cup of tea and some toast?"
Harry was about to decline when he saw how eager the expression on the elf's face had become. He had the feeling that Dancy might burst into tears if he did. "Okay, that'd be lovely, thanks."
With a soft 'pop' the space that had previously held the elf was suddenly empty. Harry blinked and looked around the room.
A muffled groaning came from another of the four posters and Ron's head complete with flyaway hair and sleep-gummed eyes appeared. "S'goin on?" He asked blearily, rubbing his cheek.
"Nothing, the storm woke me up and there was a house elf in here getting the stove thing going again."
Ron blinked dumbly and yawned widely. "A house elf, in here? That's pretty cool, I knew some worked here, tidying up and stuff."
"So it's them that makes the beds in the morning and cleans around here?"
Ron nodded. "They cook all the meals too, I think."
"Wow…" Harry said wondering. He'd always assumed that the food was made with magic by the castle or something, that just made him think about how little he really did know about Hogwarts. Maybe it really would be worth reading 'Hogwarts: A History' after all. He was about to reply when another pop interrupted his thoughts and Dancy was standing back in the same place he'd vacated a few seconds earlier, this time holding a wooden tray decorated with the Hogwarts logo again. On top was a large teapot, a single cup and saucer, sugar bowl and milk jug next to a toast rack with four pieces of white and four brown toast, already lightly buttered.
"Here you are, Mr Harry Potter Sir!" Dancy squeaked excitedly, handing over the tray the looked too large for him to realistically carry.
"Woah…" Ron sighed in wonder. Dancy turned round and bowed to him too.
"Dancy is sorry sirs, but Dancy must be getting back to his work sirs." The elf said mournfully.
"That's fine Dancy, sorry to have kept you." Harry said quickly, waving away the elf's apologies.
The elf vanished with another soft pop leaving the room full of only the sounds of Seamus and Dean sleeping.
"That's amazing, you got it to bring you food?" Ron exclaimed, his face awake now.
"He offered, because the storm woke me up." Harry said a little defensively. The last thing he wanted was to think he'd added to Dancy's workload for no reason. He looked down at the tray on his bed and sighed. Looking up at Ron he shrugged. "Fancy some toast?"
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Within ten minutes Harry and Ron had demolished most of the toast. Ron had crawled onto Harry's bed and they sat cross legged and made very milky unsweetened tea for himself while Harrys was almost black and very sweet.
"Harry?" Ron asked, swallowing a piece of white toast.
"Mmm?" Harry was deciding on the best route to get to Niddhog on the third floor.
"What's wrong with Hermione? She hasn't talked to me in ages."
"You mean since you were making fun of her for half of that charms lesson?" Harry asked, sipping the tea. It really was good, just how he liked it. He assumed Ron must have had a lot of practice with the size of his family. They all drank tea, Fred and George by the bucket if they could get hold of it, all the time.
"Yeah, I guess, since then. I was only having a laugh with her."
"Well you know Hermione, she's… pretty uptight."
"Yeah, I know, she's brilliant – don't tell anyone I said that," Harry shook his head conspirationally, "but she never lets off on how much she reads. It's really cool all the stuff she can do, she's going to have no trouble passing exams and things. I just don't know why she doesn't lighten up from time to time. Why can't she take a joke, that's what friends and family are for."
Harry took a few seconds to chew over Ron's words. What Ron had called 'having a laugh' was all well and good when around other people like Fred and George, Lee and Dean, even Parvati liked a joke and could give as well as she took but Hermione was different. Then it clicked in his mind. "Well you know how she's an only child? She said the other day that her parents are muggle dentists, right?"
"Tooth doctors, right."
"Well she hasn't had brothers and sisters growing up and it sounds like her parents are pretty strict most of the time, sounds like for them getting a new book is the equivalent of going to the cinema or… a trip to Diagon Alley, maybe."
Ron paused, slurping his tea noisily. He scratched his long nose thoughtfully. "So she's never had anyone to take the piss out of her?"
"I don't think so. I think that before Hogwarts her whole life was getting ready for the private school she used to talk about."
Ron put the cup down and frowned. "Wow… so most people don't keep on like Fred, Bill and George? There's not a moment's peace at home, there's always so much going on. Arguing, squabbling, name calling, things like that."
Harry nodded as he realised how different his own life had been from any kind of normalcy.
"Wow…" Ron said again. "thing is she's really cool when she puts the books down. She knows so much about everything but doesn't… treat anyone like an idiot if they don't know the same stuff, you know?"
Harry nodded again, he really liked Hermione; she was pretty much tied with Fay for the place of girls he got along with best in the world. The strange thing was that they were so utterly different. "Yeah, she is good like that. I think it's kind of like McGonagall and Snape: they're both amazing teachers – you have to admit just because Snape's a dickhead to everyone except his favourites and the Slytherins he is a really good teacher – it's just that one is too serious and the other too… too…" he trailed off, unable to find a word that would fit.
"Sorry mate, who're we talking to? I guess McGonagall is Hermione as they're basically the same person except for the hair, but who is Snape?"
Harry felt blood rush to his face. He looked down and knew Ron wouldn't let up until he told. "Fay."
"Yeah, I can see that. We're related you know?"
Harry looked up, "What?"
Ron was nodding seriously. "Yeah, like a second or third cousin or something on my mom's side. She's way cooler than Snape but I kind of know what you mean. Fay's pretty intense, isn't she – just stares right through you.
Harry nodded, she did stare a lot, but in a different way to how the other kids at his primary school had. They'd stared at his baggy, second hand clothes, his broken glasses and the fact that he usually had bruises from constant fighting with Dudley's gang. There was n®judgement in her eyes.
"D'you mind if I take this?" Ron asked, breaking Harry's thought process.
Harry waved a dismissive hand and shuffled to the end of his bed. "Help yourself, I'm going to go for a walk."
"Want me to come with you?"
"Nah," Harry smiled, "I'm too awake to sleep and I can't just wait here for breakfast. Better Filch catch just me than both of us."
"If you say so." Ron said, sounding a little crestfallen. He rolled off Harry's bed as Harry himself pulled on his favourite pair of jeans, stepped into the most casual shoes Madame Malkin had sent him then picked up his wand and slid silently through the door.
As he padded down the stairs, Harry thought he suddenly understood more about both Ron and Hermione. He certainly felt more about Fay than he was able to understand at the moment. He focussed on something he could do – visitng Nidhogg. He made his way out into the common room and found a couple of seventh years' clustered around desks, most asleep, a couple leafing through heavy tomes as their black-ringed eyes drooped. They didn't look up as he passed and pushed open the portrait hole.
The air in the tower was cool and extremely fresh as he strode through the corridors and onto the staircase where the wind had blown any trace of the constant damp smell away.
He descended the stairs toward the forbidden third floor, being careful to make as little noise as possible. There was no sign of Filch, Mrs Norris or any teacher until the lock clicked open on the door when deep meow echoed up the chamber. He pulled the door open, closed it behind him and whispered "Coloportus", relaxing as he heard the lock slide back into place.
He took a moment to reassess the corridor, he'd only been into the abandoned classroom with Niddhog once before. It was pitch black so he raised his wand and lit it. In the bubble of light he saw that the corridor was slightly different now; the statues were still dusty but the floor had been brushed clear, apparently by many feet and trailing cloaks. He set off down the corridor, past the clubhouse which was empty and dark for the first time he could remember. He walked without breaking pace up to the fifth classroom and unlocked the door.
The room was warm as he stepped inside, like someone had left a heater on in the corner with the cupboard. A hot, spicy aroma somewhere between burned metal, cooking ginger biscuits and the smell after a lightning storm filled the large space and something in the air made every hair stand on end.
Harry walked over to the tall cabinet. Every step was an effort for some inexplicable reason, it felt like he was walking through increasingly thick air, having to literally push through the last few steps until he could lay his hand on the knob of the cupboard.
The brass knob was warm to the touch as he pulled it open. The smell the rushed out to him was so hot and dry that he felt his eyes and mouth wither slightly and blinked furiously. As his vision cleared he saw nothing but an empty shelf and released a sigh of relief. Pulling aside the invisibility cloak he drew in a sharp breath. The egg had been reduced to tiny fragments, none larger than his smallest fingernail and amidst the pieces lay a shattered and torn snakeskin, like whatever it had earlier held had burst from it.
Harry checked the rest of the shelf, "Niddhog?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
There was no answer, no hiss or any movement. Nidhogg wasn't there.
Harry took a deep breath. There was no body, no tiny snake corpse there, so Nidhogg had been alive when he'd left the remains of the egg and if he was more powerful – whatever that meant - now he'd have no trouble surviving the easy life to be had in the castle. He looked down on the remains of the eggs and found he felt nothing about it at all. All he cared about was Nidhogg being okay. Sweeping up the remains of the egg and snakeskin, he opened a window and tipped them out into the storm before going back to the cabinet and pulling his father's cloak around his shoulders.
He decided that because there was no other option, to wait for Nidhogg as he watched his feet disappear.
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Three hours later, having watched the sky lighten with no sign of the storm ending, Harry went down to the great hall for breakfast. Despite having enjoyed Dancy's tea and toast earlier, he found himself feeling hollow and worn but not tired. He saw Ron sitting with Hermione, both looking uncomfortable, nearby the other Gryffindor girls were chattering animatedly. Fay looked up as he entered and their eyes met. She waved, he grinned like an idiot. He walked over to the near end of the Gryffindor table where a wet-haired quidditch team were sitting looking exhausted.
They looked up as he approached and the captain Wood nodded. "Mornin' Harry."
"Morning, mind if I join you?"
Wood smiled a rather forced smile and slid along the bench.
"Thanks." Harry said, sitting heavily and leaning out to grab a plate of sausages and peeled cooked tomatoes.
Professor McGonagall was walking around the great hall with a piece of parchment, talking to each cluster of people in turn.
"Here she goes again, I wish I could get away with it. Not having a break in quidditch practice would seriously improve our chances." Wood mumbled a mouth of scrambled egg after casting a glare in the direction of Kristiana Gajewska the tall skinny girl who had been the best of a bad bunch out of the potential seekers.
"That's a nice cloak Harry," Angelina said, ignoring him and leaning over the table toward him and stroking the invisibility cloak between her thumb and first two fingers, "it feels amazing, what's it made of?"
Harry felt his eyes pop wide in alarm, how had he left the cloak on? His most precious possession, the thing that could be most useful in his future, could keep him hidden from anything and he was wearing it in public, practically flaunting it around. He swallowed hard. "I don't know what it's made of, it was my dad's. A family friend sent it me. It's a bit too big really, I'm taking it back to the dorm before first lesson."
"I wouldn't leave a thing like that in my dorm. It's gorgeous." Alicia Spinnet chimed in, leaning in for a feel of the impossibly supple cloth. "Don't suppose you'd write to your friend and ask what it's made of? Imagine a skirt made of that Angie!" She beamed over at her friend who suffered a very feline shiver of imagined pleasure.
"Yeah, of course. I'll send a message soon as I can." Harry said.
"Can I try it on?" Angelina asked, her dark green and brown eyes twinkling.
A voice inside Harry screamed almost comically. "I'm sorry, I… it's…" Harry decided to play the best card he had – he hated doing it, but it was necessary now, "It's just that it was my dad's. It's the only thing I have of his…" to his pleasant surprise his voice actually thickened up at just the right moment. He trailed off hoping they'd leave it alone.
"Yeah, come on girls, leave it alone." Wood said, laying a calloused hand companionably on Harry's shoulder.
All three girls on the bench all made simultaneous aww-ing noises and Angelina reached over the table suddenly and took Harry's hand in hers, it was cool and firm. He looked up into her eyes again. "Of course Harry, we understand. I'm sorry."
He smiled, unable to help himself. "Thanks, how's practice going?"
Wood's teeth made an awful snapping sound around the fork that was in his mouth and he winced. Kristiana bowed her head even lower and Harry thought he heard a badly suppressed sob emanate from the curtain of pale hair.
He looked over at the twins who were silently devouring a pile of sausages, toast and bacon. 'That bad?' he mouthed silently to them.
'Worse' they replied the same way and shook their heads in response to Harry's raised eyebrows.
'Leave it.' Fred mouthed, he looked like his eyes were pleading.
Kristiana had been just as poor a seeker as everyone had feared. She would have made a great chaser, but Angelina, Katie and Alicia were all accuracy and weave in the air, all admitted they'd be terrible in the job. Kristiana was nothing short of a nightmare. Her speed and genuine skill on a broom was, according to Madame Hooch, Professor McGonagall and Wood, nothing short of amazing, but she enjoyed the act of flying so much and was so scatterbrained that she paid no attention to her surroundings. The first game of the season: Gryffindor vs Slytherin according to tradition had been an utter disaster. The seekers had taken almost four hours to find the snitch with Kristiana never coming within ten metres of the tiny shimmering ball. Eventually, with score standing at two-hundred and thirty against three-hundred and twenty to Gryffindor, the Slytherin seeker, Robert Harper had caught the snitch in a brilliant fingertip snatch on the boundary line. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory Wood had called it. The whole team had been sullen ever since. Kristiana looked down through a sheet of blonde hair so fair it was almost translucent.
Harry returned to his pile of sausage and tomatoes and remained there in the tense silence.
It lasted almost a full-agonising minute until Katie Bell broke the silence. "How're the OWLs coming Oli?" She asked Wood.
Wood shrugged, lightening for a moment. "It's okay, not as bad as I expected yet. It'll get worse according to McGonagall."
A thin and stern shadow blocked out the morning sunlight coming through the windows. "What does Professor McGonagall say is going to get worse, Mr Wood?" came a thick Scottish burr. They all looked up and beheld the thin-lipped mouth and a quirky raised eyebrow."
Wood grimaced and swallowed again. "I'm sorry Professor, we've had a rough practice again today. Katie just asked me about how I'm getting on with my OWLs."
McGonagall nodded, bobbing her head like a bird. "Yes, it's that time of year again. I can't speak for all the year of course, but I'm pleased to see that some of my students are exceeding expectations so far…" she said with a wry twist on 'exceeding expectations'. "You'll be fine, Oliver." She said patting his thick shoulder with a thin hand.
Everyone looked around at Oliver beaming.
"Now to my original reason for interrupting your breakfast: As most of you know, it is the right of any student at Hogwarts to remain here over the Yule break instead of returning home. Is there anyone here interested?"
Oliver looked round at the group pleadingly as if he could justify staying behind if only part of his team would. They all shook their heads.
"Sorry Professor, I can't imagine missing my mom's Christmas lunch." Angelina said with a satisfied look on her face.
"And I wouldn't miss her mom's Christmas lunch for anything, either." Chuckled Alicia.
Harry looked up, "Can I stay Professor? I'd much rather stay here than go back there." He said as hope blossomed in him. The idea of getting to stay in Hogwarts for almost the whole year – all the practice, broom-flying and great food that he wouldn't have to cook. Even without being able to avoid Dudley's prodding and bullying, it would be the best thing in the world.
"Of course, Potter." McGonagall said, releasing the piece of parchment to float in front of her and printing his name in her neat writing. When done, the parchment floated down to him. "Sign next to your name please Potter."
He did so and she excused herself.
"Fantastic." Harry said, beaming.
Angelina was looking at him, a look somewhere between concern and confusion on her face. "You want to stay over Christmas? What about going to see your family?"
Harry shrugged. "They're not really family, never treated me like that at least. My aunt, uncle and cousin Dudley hate me…" He paused, thought and continued, "Well now they fear me more than hate really; fear that I could disrupt their perfect lives. No, I think this is going to be great."
Wood was eyeing him curiously. "You see if you can get some broom practice while we're away Harry, use the chance to sharpen up."
Harry nodded, having a thought about the rest of the team returning in the new year and him dazzling them with his skills and Wood having to sack Kristiana or put her in reserve. Then there was an image of him, taller, older holding up the quidditch cup and watching Madame Hooch engrave his name on the base a few spaces away from his father's.
"Nice." He said to himself too softly to be heard.
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