Idling
Having finished classes for the week on Friday morning, about a day and a half sooner than he was used to, it was time for Harry to discover what else there was around the school.
His free time so far he had mainly used for homework, a habit learned from Jiraiya only giving him extra lessons when he'd either finished or needed the help.
So far he'd been disappointed.
The only form of exercise the students seemed involved in was this sport called 'Qudditch', which, as it involved flying, he wasn't able to try yet.
(He had made a habit of performing what exercises the academy had taught that wouldn't be too suspicious for civilians who spotted them.)
Aside from that, all there seemed to be was lazing about on the lawns (something he had never had any interest in doing), and visiting the library.
While he had been interested in checking what the library had to offer, anything more interesting than the course syllabus (which he had convinced the librarian to share with him, after she took a liking to him for being quiet and checking with her how to care for books properly {he wasn't exactly used to books after all}) was in the 'Restricted Section', which he wasn't exactly permitted in (or willing to get in trouble with Madam Pince over).
That wasn't to say the public books in the library were just copies of the course books.
Some were clearly books from previous years, either out of date or irrelevant to the new teachers teaching style (and likely donated by students), others merely had a different perspective, for students to compare and contrast their course books with (something he was doubtful many did).
As such, he was spending the afternoon, after his homework was complete, in the grounds.
He wasn't relaxing, rather running laps around the school.
Okay, compared to some exercises the academy and his godfather had given him it was very relaxing, but that wasn't the point.
If he lost his current level of fitness it would be much harder to regain than it was to keep up in the first place, quite aside from the risk of being dropped from the program when he got home.
"What are you doing, running around the school?"
Harry was startled by the voice that was somehow simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar, something that shouldn't be possible with his memory training.
He stopped running and turned, coming face to face with Hagrid, the groundskeeper he had run into in Gringotts.
Memories ran through his mind of the hard to understand accent MacGonagalls translation spell had inflicted upon him, something that Dumbledores spell clearly did not have a problem with.
"I'm just... trying to keep in shape," Harry said, trying to stick with the innocent truth.
He had been taught that sometimes he would have to lie for one reason or another, but to someone who had grown up intending to keep his word no matter what that wasn't exactly something he was willing to do.
Instead he had learned to deceive without lying, which had the benefit that he wouldn't be found out by someone who would be able to tell if he lied (according to his godfather).
"Right, yeah, always good to keep yourself fit," Hagrid accepted, rubbing the back of his head. "Still, you've finished the first week of class, seems to me you should be relaxing instead of wearing yourself out more."
Harry shrugged. "It's about the only way I have to relax. The school seems pretty light on things to do outside classes."
"Wasn't always like that," Hagrid told him. "When I was a student there were various clubs to get involved with; duelling, chess, quodpot. All sorts of things. Course, there were also more staff and classes back then."
Harry frowned. "I wonder why it all changed."
"No matter what anyone tells you, it ain't Dumbledores fault," Hagrid told him firmly. "Great man Dumbledore. I reckon if any of the other headmasters had the problems he has Hogwarts would have had to close down."
"What sort of problems has Hogwarts had?"
"Well, Dumbledores had problems holding onto a defence professor for more than a year."
Hagrid seemed to remember he was talking to a student.
"Enough of that, it's nothing a first year should be worrying about."
Harry couldn't help but disagree, seeing as he would have to put up with the variable nature of defence instruction for as long as he attended Hogwarts (which, given the utility of certain spells he had already come across, was likely to be the full seven years), but decided not to press Hagrid on it.
All to often, he had discovered, that should a child ask about something the adult didn't think they needed to know, the adult would be a lot less willing to tell said child anything in the future, quite aside from not telling said child what they wanted to know.
Instead he decided to take another approach.
"Would you mind telling me about your experience as a student? The different approach to teaching, things they no longer cover, things like that?"
Hagrid hesitated. "I guess that wouldn't be a problem. I've got the afternoon off, so we could go down to my hut and talk now."
Harry was about to decline, but hesitated.
Something about Hagrid reminded him of how Hinata had acted when they first met in some strange way.
It came to him.
Hagrid wasn't used to having someone to talk to, which seemed odd for a member of staff.
How could a member of a team, even one like the staff of a school, be so used to being alone?
"Sure," he finally accepted.
Worst came to the worst he would at least brighten the day of a member of staff, getting them on his side, and if it all went well he could learn about magic that wasn't on the current syllabus.
The look on Hagrids face, that of it not hidden by his beard, was one of a happiness that nobody should feel just from having the opportunity to talk to someone.
[|]
"=and the Ravenclaw never did figure out how the Marauders used the summoning charm to pull him back from the edge," Hagrid finished his latest story.
The discussion about schoolwork had turned into stories about various students Hagrid had known.
"Sounds like these 'Marauders' could have been a bit more careful with their pranks," Harry noted, reminded uncomfortably of how his prank on the Uchiha compound, back before he had met Jiraiya, could have turned out.
Then again, the prank wouldn't have done anything if they hadn't been so fire-obsessed.
Who shoots fire all over their compound anyway?
"It did feel like most of them had some impulse problems," Hagrid allowed, "but as a group they always dealt with the consequences."
"So who were they anyway?"
"I don't think anyone knows," Hagrid admitted, "save Dumbledore of course, but he isn't likely to admit knowing or tell anyone. Given when the pranks stopped, and it wasn't because of them getting caught or anything, I'd say they would have been about your parents age, maybe a bit younger. Around the start of the dark times," Hagrid mused. "Good chance they didn't make it through."
"The war," Harry guessed. "The same reason there are so few students at the moment, and so many unused classrooms."
"Aye," Hagrid agreed. "Too many classmates, and even students I befriended, ended up involved. On both sides," he added. "There were many who took he-who-must-not-be-named's side who never showed any such inclination in school."
"Who were these friends?"
Harry could tell that they probably hadn't survived, but from time in Konoha he had learned that telling people about them helped.
"Well, not many people are willing to talk to a groundskeeper, so there wasn't all that many," Hagrid hedged a bit. "There was James Potter, a good man, if a bit of a troublemaker. Stood against he-who-must-not-be-named four times, come the war. Of course, that turned out to be one time too many," he added sadly.
Harry recognised the name.
His vault in Gringotts had been under the name 'Potter'.
Could this be his father Hagrid was talking about?
"There was Lilly Evans," Hagrid continued. "Head Girl and quite strict with her classmates when it came to rules. Never expected her to get involved in any fighting, but then I never thought she and James would end up together. Stood with James each time he met he-who-must-not-be-named..."
Hagrid trailed off again.
"Died with James," Harry stated quietly.
Hagrid nodded. "Ended the war, they did. Their son vanished from the house." He paused, thoughtfully. "Dumbledore told me not to worry, that he found the boy and made sure he'd learn here. Can't quite recall the name, but he would be in your year."
It was becoming clear why the headmaster had wanted him here, but the way Hagrid couldn't remember things that were clearly important to him was rather worrying.
Even as he guided the conversation back to happier subjects, Harry made a note to check if there was any magic that could erase memories, and how to counter or negate it.
If the headmaster was willing to wipe the memories of someone so loyal, it was hardly beyond belief that he could meddle with Harrys memories as well.
[|]
"A word, professor Lupin."
Remus stopped on the threshold of the headmasters office, before stepping aside when he realised that he was blocking the rest of the staff from leaving.
"Yes, headmaster?"
Dumbledore paused, letting everyone else leave before he started speaking.
"I notice you didn't mention about how you and Harry were getting on."
Remus hesitated. "That's because I haven't spoken to him outside my position as teacher," he finally admitted.
The headmaster sighed. "You will recall that one of the reasons I approached you about taking the position of defence professor this year was so that Harry would have someone who knew his parents to talk to about them."
Remus shifted awkwardly. "It's just... there are other teachers who were around when we were students. He could talk with them."
And not have to hear about how I failed them went unsaid.
"Except they weren't students with them. MacGonagalls perspective is tainted by her recollection of the trouble James caused."
"There's Snape," Remus tried, unconvincing even to himself.
"I admit, he has taken to Harry much better than I'd expected," the headmaster mused aloud.
"If that is them getting on well, what were you expecting? Why didn't you find a different potions teacher for the lower years?"
The headmaster raised a hand. "Do you know how I spend my time during the school holidays?"
"I suppose you deal with your other positions, in the ICW and Wizzengamott."
"And try to find a new defence professor. And there is already scarcely the time to do so before the new year starts."
"But surely this year, I mean you didn't have problems recruiting me..."
"But my other positions had more work come up. Quite aside from organising Harrys position, given how he has been living outside the ICWs jurisdiction."
Remus felt his argument slip away.
"It's just... I don't know how to bring it up," he admitted. "To tell him I was a friend of his parents but was never there when he grew up."
"You forget, he is aware of how he effectively vanished from our world. I have mentioned the difficulty in finding him to young Harry."
"Perhaps he would have been better off staying where he was."
As soon as he had spoken the words Remus wished he could take them back.
But the headmaster merely sighed. "To convince Harry to attend Hogwarts I told him that there was a teacher who knew his parents. And that is one of the reasons I feel it best that he come here."
Remus was confused. "To hear about his parents?"
"What child, growing up without their parents, doesn't want to know who they were. And could you truly live with yourself if you let James' son grow to adulthood without learning the sort of man his father was? A man who did so much for you?"
"I'll tell him," Remus decided, nodding despondently. "He deserves to know. Is there anything else, headmaster?"
Dumbledore settled back into his chair, shaking his head. "That was everything Remus. You may go."
[|]
As the headmaster watched Lupin leave his office he was hopeful that Lupin was indeed going to talk to Harry.
It was true that Harry deserved to know his parents, how many of Toms actions could have been prevented if he had known the truth of his parentage earlier after all, but there was more to it than just Harrys future.
From what he knew of the typical eleven year old, and what he knew of how Harry was decidedly untypical, the discussion would bring up the subject of Sirius Black at some point, and then the matter of Sirius could be settled once and for all.
He smiled as he sat back in his chair, picking up a sherbet lemon from the bowl on his desk (that everyone had ignored throughout the meeting).
It was definitely one of the best things about getting to live so long, trying all the kinds of sweet in the world.
AN: I recently realised that I messed up my plans during the sorting. I shall endeavour to correct this mistake in the next chapter, seeing as I couldn't easily introduce them in this one.
In any case, here we see more of the headmasters plotting. How well do you think it will turn out?
And I forgot, until I was about to publish, that I hadn't given the chapter a name. Hopefully it fits well enough.
