Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else in this fic except for the plot, though that's probably not all that original either...
A/N: Hey! This is my first chaptered fic, and updates are gonna be slow. I apologise for the wait for this chapter, but I'm writing the chapters as I go, plus, this one caused me some problems. Please let me know what you think; I could use the help! I hope you enjoy!
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Chapter 2: Coming Home
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Harry swayed before regaining his balance, waiting a moment for the queasiness in his stomach to settle and for his head to stop spinning. He always had hated travelling by portkey; now he remembered why.
A couple of days after he had sent his return letter to Dumbledore, he had gotten a very happy reply that had almost sang with the merriment written on the parchment (considering it was from Dumbledore, he wouldn't have been surprised if it had), along with a portkey that would teleport him directly into the entrance hall at precisely 12:00pm on the 30th of August, leaving him two days to settle in before the students arrived. At precisely 11:58am, 30th of August, he had been beset by nervousness, and in the next two minutes wondered hysterically if he was insane, and changed his mind no less than 34 times, only just grabbing the portkey in time for his teleportation.
Now that he was actually in Hogwarts, soaking up the strong magical aura and smelling its distinctive scents that brought back bittersweet memories, he was wondering why he hadn't booked himself into St. Mungos Mental Ward instantly upon agreeing with Dumbledore's latest harebrained scheme.
Steadying himself, Harry reached up a comforting hand to reassure Shria, who was surprisingly calm for a creature who had just been transported across several hundred kilometres in a couple of seconds.
Cocking his head slightly, Harry stretched out his magic and felt.
During his sixth year, Harry had started seeing clouds of light surrounding people, and at first thought that it was some evil trick of the Dark Lord's, but when, after a month, it became apparent that the misty, multi-coloured lights were not doing any harm, Harry had started wondering if the stress of supposedly being the Wizarding World's Saviour had finally gotten to him and that he had finally lost it. It wasn't until three months later after a particularly trying day, that he finally told Ron and Hermione he thought he was going mad (the bright lights now covering everyone he saw and very rarely 'turning off'). Of course, Ron was near hysterical at the news, but Hermione took it in stride and started thinking logically about it, living in the library almost every spare minute for the next week until, finally, she returned, triumphant, with a thin book describing the extremely rare and almost-forgotten gift of seeing a persons magical aura. After informing Dumbledore of this exciting development, Harry was then trained to control his amazing skill, until he could turn it on and off at will. During the war, it turned into an invaluable asset, him being able to sense any and all spells cast within a twenty metre radius and being able to sense any people with magical capabilities in a forty metre zone. It was one of the reasons he was able to defeat Voldemort, and when he had emerged, blind, he still retained the ability to sense auras, though slightly changed: he could no longer see the person in the middle of the mist, only the swirling colours. His skill had then become a survival necessity. In the Muggle world, it was greatly diminished, but muggles' still exuded a faint wisp of unconscious magical ambience, rendering Harry's ability not completely useless.
Now, ahead of him, under the constant thrum of Hogwart's magic, there were three strong auras that burnt different colours to his mental eye, and that pulsated with magic. The one in the lead, at the point of the triangle the forms made, was a startling blue that throbbed a slow steady beat, but every couple of seconds would spark unexpectedly with a random bit of light, suggesting that the person was spontaneous and eccentric. Harry smiled slightly; Dumbledore.
Behind the blue aura there were two more, slightly smaller than Dumbledore's, but no less bright. The one to the right was a deep green that sparkled like emeralds, and that Harry instantly recognised as McGonagall. He idly wondered what she would say if she knew her aura was a green that resembled Slytherin's colour. Her aura was coiled tight, almost resembling a solid shape rather than a mist-like cloud of light, and beat a consistent pulse that suited her calm and controlled personality.
Turning his attention to the third aura, Harry sucked in a breath.
Beautiful.
The bright light was a white that shaded on grey, almost making it look silver, and that crackled with repressed energy, hinting that the person was a strong, emotional individual that hid behind an aloof mask. The pure colours immediantly brought to mind the soft white and greys of a dove, and the chilling hardness of marble. Although he didn't immediantly recognise the startling aura, Harry thought that he might know who it was, judging by the colour and immense energy that almost rivalled Dumbledore's. Though why Draco Malfoy would be here to greet him, he had no idea...
The blue aura flickered and moved forward, and Harry snapped his attention back to Dumbledore. He could hear the quiet scuff of shoes against the hard stone, and Shria let out a high pitched screech that was supposed to alert him of someone approaching, but only succeeded in threatening to burst his eardrums.
Breaking the silence, Dumbledore spoke, "Harry."
Then he enveloped him in a hug that at first had Harry stiffening, before relaxing and tentatively hugging back.
"Welcome home." Dumbledore whispered, and with those two simple words most of Harry's doubts and fears vanished. He knew they would be back, but for now he was nearly worry free.
The tight knot in his stomach loosened and eased, and Harry murmured, "It's good to be home."
Dumbledore pulled back, and Harry had the sneaking suspicion that he was wiping his eyes of tears. Harrys own were prickling unpleasantly, but he refused to let the warm moisture fall.
When Dumbledore next spoke, Harry could hear the delighted smile in his voice.
"Ah! Hello Shria!"
Judging by Shria's curious chattering and restless movements, then the content purrs, Dumbledore had reached out a hand and started patting her. She always was a pushover for anyone who took the time to stroke her.
McGonagall stepped forward, while Malfoy hung back.
"It's nice to see you, Mister Potter. You've been gone a long time."
"Ah, It's Professor Potter, now, Minerva." Dumbledore corrected happily.
"That sounds weird." Harry said, voicing his thoughts.
Dumbledore laughed.
"You'll get used to it soon enough!"
He paused for a moment and Harry assumed that he turned and beckoned to Malfoy, for the silver aura moved forward.
"You remember Draco Malfoy, don't you, Harry?"
Harry smiled sarcastically, "Yeah, now that you mention it, I do seem to vaguely recall someone by that name."
"Potter," Malfoy said coolly, but Harry thought he saw his aura flicker with an emotion that almost resembled amusement.
"Malfoy," Harry greeted properly.
Harry reached out a hand, knowing that very few people would initiate a handshake due to the fact that he could not see where their hand was. Usually, Harry was thankful for the small common senses of people, but sometimes, it was very annoying to be treated like an inferior cripple (the second part may have been right, but Harry's Gryffindor pride stubbornly refused to be thought of as a mindless, depressed idiot all because he could not see), so he had learnt long ago to just take the initiative and stick out his hand, knowing that a persons good manners dictated that they would have to take his hand or risked being seen as morally rude (not to mention a stuck up prick for not shaking the poor cripples hand).
In Malfoy's favour, their was only a very slight, almost non-existent, hesitation before his warm hand clasped Harry's. His hand was long and slender, his grip strong and firm, and Harry knew from the past that his skin would be a pale white that somehow managed to look natural on the young blonde. For some strange reason Harry could not define, the steady palm pressed against his was very calming, and Harry felt the last of his nervousness drop away. Grinning, Harry let go of the warm hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Dumbledore's aura spark with what looked like hundreds of small white lights, reminding him of the old man's eyes when they would sparkle with some random idea or amusing thought. What was the old coot up to now...?
Dumbledore moved forward and linked arms with Harry, gently tugging until the younger man stepped forward, murmuring to Shria as he did so, 'follow', so the small Monkal would know that she didn't need to guide him, but to stay close. In response she jumped off his shoulder, and Harry could hear her flapping around above him, chattering curiously all the while.
"We are very glad you've decided to join us, my dear boy. I believe Mister Weasley and Miss Granger were especially excited, but I managed to convince them to wait until you contacted them before coming to see you," Dumbledore said conversationally, gently guiding Harry toward where he knew the Great Staircase was. He could hear Malfoy and McGonagall following quietly.
Harry was slightly relieved to hear that Ron and Hermione wouldn't come ambushing him at any random moment. He had no idea what he was going to say to them, though he knew that he wouldn't be able to persuade them to stay away for longer than a couple of weeks, and even that was pushing it. Maybe he could invite them over the next weekend...
"...Your classes timetables will be given to you later today and anything you need, you have only to ask. If you ever want to talk, my door is always open." Harry came back to himself to hear the last of Dumbledore's mini-speech.
The Headmaster gently patted the back of Harry's hand, then disentangled himself from his arm.
"I will leave you in Draco's hands now, Harry. Minerva and I have a meeting with the Minister to attend, and, alas, we will have to cut our reunion short. Perhaps, you will join me for some tea and sherbet lemons sometime during the next week?"
Harry nodded, hiding his surprise. He had only just arrived and was now being left alone with Malfoy? He again had the nagging feeling that Dumbledore was up to something...
"Good." Dumbledore sounded pleased. "Draco, could you please escort Professor Potter to his new suite of rooms?"
Malfoy must have gestured in the affirmative because Dumbledore's aura sparkled again before he started off up the stairs, calling over is shoulder, "Thank-you, Draco. Harry, I'll see you soon."
Harry could hear McGonagall moving forward, following Dumbledore, but she stopped as she was passing him and reached out and touched his arm.
"It's good to see you, Professor Potter." He could hear the faint edge of amusement in her voice. "I'm sure Hogwarts will benefit greatly from your teachings." Harry could see her aura uncoiling a little, revealing the warmth she felt for him. She then walked up the stairs, leaving him with Malfoy.
Harry whistled softly and Shria flew down and landed on his shoulder, chirping and chattering happily. He reached up a hand and scratched behind her ears, smiling softly as she leaned into his fingers and started purring.
There was a scuff as shoes scraped against the cold stone floor and the whisper of robes, then Malfoy stood patiently beside him.
"Ready, Potter?" In the past Malfoy's voice would have held animosity and scorn, but during the war their hatred for each other had mellowed and evened into respect, even liking, and now all the blondes voice held was amusement, with a hint of wariness. Harry supposed that was normal, considering they hadn't seen each other in five years.
"Sure." Harry fumbled for Draco's arm, finally grabbing it.
Malfoy's aura flickered in surprise, and Harry could just imagine the raised eyebrow and bemused stare he would be getting now, but he just smiled wryly and asked, "So, where are we going?"
Malfoy sighed, and said, "Up to the rooms Dumbledore assigned for you." His voice held a note that stated clearly, 'Duh'.
He stepped forward, tugging gently on Harry's arm. As they set off up the stairs, Malfoy was a little awkward about leading a blind person around (and a childhood-nemesis at that), and Harry amused at the fact that he was gripping Draco Malfoy's arm, and counting on him to get him safely to an unknown suite of rooms and not lead him off a cliff, or a really tall tower, or something else equally life threatening.
"So, hows life been?" Harry asked, grinning.
"Absolutely thrilling. You?" Malfoy's voice held wry amusement and no small amount of sarcasm.
"Oh, not too bad. Living in the Muggle world as a blind cripple, wandering from one sucky job to the next, it was just awesome; my dearest wish come true." Harry grinned at the small snort of amusement the blonde released. "Na, truly it wasn't all that bad." He continued more seriously. "It's what I needed, you know? To just get away from it all..." The next few moments were spent in contemplative silence, before Harry spoke again, trying to lighten the mood. "So, what's it like being the Potions Professor?"
Harry grinned as Draco replied, "I can now understand why Snape was so grouchy all the time," he said ruefully, "Teaching adolescents of all ages is almost as bad as getting Hagrid's old Blast-Ended Skrewts to become remotely interesting."
Harry laughed, thinking about Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes. He loved the half giant, but, really, those classes were so bad!
"Don't you laugh. You'll have to teach them soon enough." Harry could hear the pout in Draco's voice.
"I'm not laughing at you teaching kids," he hurried to reassure, "I'm just remembering Hagrid's classes."
Harry could see Draco's aura twisting around itself in embarrassment, but the young aristocrat just said, "Yes, they were bad, weren't they?"
Harry hummed in agreement.
Shria chose that moment to screech loudly and chatter reprovingly at being ignored, causing Harry to laugh, and Draco to smile slightly, though, of course, Harry couldn't see that.
They continued on in comfortable silence for the next few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Draco came to a stop, Harry halting half a second later.
"To your right, is a portrait. Behind that are your rooms. I trust you don't need my help exploring them?"
"No, thank you," Harry responded politely.
"Good." Malfoy turned away, but before he had taken a step, he turned back, saying, "By the way, the password is 'Ginger Snaps'. Dumbledore set it, but you can change it if you want." With that, the blonde Slytherin was gone.
Shaking his head in amusement, Harry turned to his right, and hesitantly said, "Ginger Snaps."
"Quite right, Professor," came the answering reply. The voice was rich and unmistakably female.
Turning his head slightly, Harry murmured to Shria, "Remember: our rooms." There was silence for several seconds before she loosed a happy trill. She would now remember this spot and be able to lead him here when he murmured the words 'our rooms.' He nodded and said, "lead," stepping forward as he done so.
She led him safely in, and he commenced with exploring his new suite. There was an open living room with a couch and armchair resting in front of the fire. A doorway led to the small kitchen/dining room, and another led to a bathroom. There were two more doors, both leading to bedrooms. One held a double bed, and the other a king size that had the softest mattress Harry had ever come across. Obviously, one was his, and the other a guest room. He knew which one he was having.
Having finished his exploration, he had deduced that the rooms were reasonably sized, cozey little set ups that were uncluttered; perfect for Harry's wants and needs.
Smiling happily, he left to change the password for his rooms, Shria perched on his shoulder, and his mind buzzing with the happy thrill of being home.
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A/N: I could have written more, but I figured I had best get it out. The next chapter is probably gonna take a while as I have absolutly NONE of it written out... And my motivation comes and goes... And I'm working on another chaptered fic that is going a bit better than this one, as well as a HarryXDraco one-shot... So, yeah.
Authors Request: Please leave a review! They make my day, and help with my motivation! ;o)