A/N: I was always bothered by the Halloween Feasts Harry attended while in school. I understand he never knew them, but I felt there should have been more emotions, more confusion over them. This chapter will open into the growth of his character further and such. It'll also open a lot of angst period. Crushes start, friendships bloom, and just what is in store for our young heroes, hmm?
For the Reviewers: Thanks, I love you all. I suck at updating, my apologies!
Rating: K-T
Warnings: …Fluffy angst? Grief.
Chapter 9:
As the end of October approached, Harry felt a conundrum overcome him, pushing thoughts about the corridor and the dog to the background. He had learned his parents' true fate and the date of their death, but wasn't sure what to do. Should he mourn? And if he did, how? He didn't even know what they looked like! What would he do at the feast? He didn't feel particularly festive. Could he skip it?
His head was spinning as he knocked on his Head of House's office door.
"Enter!" Professor Sprout's friendly voice buffeted through the door. Harry turned the knob and stepped through.
"Harry," Pomona said warmly as the tall, slender first year entered. "What do I owe this surprise?" She got up and ushered him fussily into a seat in one of a pair of armchairs next to a roaring fire before taking the one across from him. The first year fidgeted, his fingers twisting in his lap. The usually collected and friendly, if slightly authoritative, first year looked surprisingly childish as he bit his lip and fought to meet her eyes.
"Is something the matter?" She asked in obvious concern. The boy was paler than usual. He glanced at her before sighing.
"I learned how my parents really passed away and the date of their deaths after not knowing for ten years," he said quietly. "I-I don't really know how to handle it." The eleven year old admitted, his shoulder slumping at the reveal. The matronly woman blinked and then immediately engulfed the boy in a hug.
"You haven't ever had the chance to grieve for them, have you?" She whispered in a moment of instant clarity. She felt him nod against her shoulder and the tenseness through his body before, as though like a taunt wire that finally snapped, left him as he collapsed into her with a muffled cry.
"Oh, Harry," she whispered as she patted his back and rubbed it in soothing motions.
"I don't know what to do," his words muffled by her shoulder as the small growing wet spot appeared on her shoulder. "I feel so angry over their deaths, but I don't really know them. I feel so angry tha-that I got stuck with the Dursleys, then guilty because I should feel bad that they're dead! And I do! I feel bad and angry because it isn't fair! I mean, how am I supposed to feel good about surviving that night like everyone expects, when I never knew it happened until recently? I mean, I always thought, 'hey you survived your parents drunken screw up, be glad' and now I know I should feel proud because they died protecting me… but it sucks!" The words spilled out against the cushiony torso of Pomona Sprout and the gray haired woman wasn't certain how to respond.
"What brought this up?" She asked quietly.
"Halloween," he said finally sitting back. He stared down at his hands as he talked, "I don't know if I'm supposed to be in grieving or celebrating. Some of the upperclassmen talk about how it's such a good day since it's the day the war ended but it's the day my parents died and I've never done anything for them about it. I don't even know how to do anything for it." The professor hid a wince. "Ernie also has everyone in a tizzy over the feast and what not, though Neville's been keeping me away from it. I think he understands, but doesn't really know how to handle it either." This time the woman did winced and it was followed by a sigh.
"I never lost my parents like you did," she said softly, "but they too passed away a few years ago due to old age and poor health. However, the method I remember them by could work for you. It's something I picked up in my travels to Asia and changed around. It could be used by you."
"What?" Harry asked hopefully.
"We'll light a candle and say a prayer for them." She answered, "One for each of them. Since Halloween is about a week away, we can even make the candle and the method you want to use specific for them. Create a tradition for every anniversary and holiday." Harry blinked at the suggestion, but instantly liked and agreed. He paused and glanced rather shyly at her.
"Also…" He said, coming to a decision, "I don't feel particularly good about celebrating with the rest of the school over the end of the war since it coincides with my loss. Is it okay if I sit it out? Have dinner in the common room and retire early? I… I just don't feel the same connection to the holiday festivities." The Herbology professor instantly nodded in understanding.
"I see, well, I'll allow it," she said. "Now, I have an owl-order catalogue if you wish to look over the candles and select them. But we can wait until tomorrow if you're not up to it." Harry hesitated but nodded. Taking a deep breathe he said.
"It won't get any easier, so it's better to do this properly." She smiled at him and patted his hand before getting up.
"I'll just be back in a minute, and then we'll set you right."
"Thanks, Professor."
"It's no problem, Harry. No problem at all."
Harry was subdued up to the end of the month and spent most of it quietly reading or working on homework. The last three days he retired early and got up even earlier to stay out of the way of his roommates. With the exception of Neville, none of them could even guess why their tallest first year Hufflepuff looked so upset and downtrodden. It wasn't until they overheard a sixth year, female prefect speculating with another girl that they even understood or thought they did.
"It would be a bit tacky for him to celebrate, y'know," she said sympathetically, "what with the date being the same with when the elder Potters' passing."
Ernie could have shot himself in the face with a boil hex when he remembered, which led to the entirety of the first year Hufflepuffs being upset and even more worried over the Hufflepuff House's resident 'Friendly Giant.'
Neville was just glad Ernie shut up about how amazing Halloween was and accompanied Harry everywhere, almost better than his own shadow even.
"You okay?" He asked at the end of their final class for the day, the Halloween feast several hours away.
"I will be," Harry said with a quiet smile and they lapsed into silence that bordered on comforting if it wasn't for how quietly grieving Harry was. "I won't be at the feast tonight," he said suddenly.
"What?" Neville asked.
"I… Professor Sprout had a catalogue with memorial candles that you can burn for those who passed. I'm going to be lighting them in the dorm and having dinner there. I don't feel comfortable being around all the celebrations." He answered before adjusting his backpack and fiddling with the side, refusing to meet Neville's eyes. The shorter boy merely nodded in understanding. "I, it's the first time I get to offer my respects. I don't think I ever got to go to their funerals or what not when I was younger, and my aunt never told me the day they died so I never got to do anything special on the anniversary."
"Oh."
"Yeah. So, uhm, don't freak out when I don't come. I'll be fine."
'And alone,' Neville thought worriedly.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asked. Harry's gaze shot up and he flushed before glancing away.
"I couldn't ask that of you," he answered. "I mean… I…" Neville gripped his arm.
"You're not asking, I'm offering," he stated quite firmly before cracking a smile, "You're skinny enough, and with how you've been eating lately you need someone to make sure you don't end under Madam Pompfrey's potion regime again." Harry smiled slightly and gave in.
"You'll have to ask Professor Sprout," Harry stated.
"I can do that."
"So you two will both be staying?" Pomona said, asking for confirmation as she looked at both of the boys. Neville had an almost protective stance next to the emotional drawn Harry who couldn't stop fiddling with his shirt's long sleeve hem.
"Harry shouldn't be alone for this, plus it's the proper thing to do," Neville declared rather firmly. The taller boy glanced down at his friend before looking away, albeit thankfully, when he got a stern stare back.
"I'd like it if he stayed, Professor Sprout," Harry said quietly.
"Alright," Professor Sprout said with a nod. "I'll inform the house elves. I'll check in on you later, Harry, Neville… If you need anything come get me. Anything at all, you hear me?"
"Yes ma'am," the two said.
"Alright then," she said before pausing and enveloping Harry in another comforting hug. The tall boy clutched her for a moment, burying into the sympathetic kindness before letting go and stepping back. Neville escorted Harry over to the detached alcove they had claimed for the night and Harry quietly took a seat next to the enchanted window. The table was tall enough that Harry could sit comfortably, and Neville joined him on an equally plush chair across him. Placed on top of the table, ignoring the somber linen covering it in muted cream with a border of black crepe and a table runner of dark crimson and gold in respect to both of his parents' old house, was a plain wooden chest. Both stared at it for a moment before Harry carefully lifted the lid and removed the items inside. His breathe hitched for a moment as he pulled out the first piece, a framed photo of his parents on their wedding day, the first picture he'd ever seen of either of them. His mother wore a lacey white gown and a loose, buoyant veil while holding a bouquet of apple blossoms. His father stood next to her grinning widely, an arm wrapped around her waist.
"That's them?" Neville asked quietly and Harry nodded setting the photo down on the center of the window on the wide ledge. He then reached in and removed a crystal candle stand. It was rectangular with a wide base, etched into the side was Harry's parents' names along with their birth and death dates. After that, Harry removed the candles and their holders. Each candle would be place in the center of a flute-like glass vase. However, one vase was distinctly masculine, while the other was clearly for a female. The masculine one had small shooting stars and snitches etched along the bottom before flat rectangular shapes grew up from them opening into a wide open lipped shape, the candle resting inside was white with a dark crimson center. The other holder was feminine and in the shape of an elongated oval with flowers curling around the base and up the sides in streamers, an assortment of lilies and vines encompassing it except for the almost heart shape center where a tapered candle waited unlit, pale pink in color.
"It's beautiful, Harry," Neville said supportively as his friend finally set it up. Harry's lips quirked in a grief heavy smile, and he stared at it for a few moments. Harry touched the slender flutes for a second before lighting each candle. The candles glow was gentle, soothing and both watched quietly as the flame melted them. Neither candle was meant to last for hours and was specially made. Slowly the scent of a woman's perfume filled the room, followed by the scent of turned earth and a man's aftershave, red poppies blooming from the candle stand as the thirty minutes the candles were meant to last slowly dwindled away. As the quiet ceremony ended, Harry seemed to collapse forward against the table, arms crossing as his face buried into them. The minutest shaking of his shoulders could be seen, but Neville said nothing as he shifted closer and enveloped his best friend in a hug.
Letting him cry his eyes out, Harry grieved for the parents he lost a decade ago.
Severus glanced around the hall and noted the absence of two rather distinctive Hufflepuffs.
"Where are Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom?" He asked Pomona glancing at her in veiled concern.
"Harry wanted to have a quiet memorial in the dorm;" Pomona answered quietly, "Mr. Longbottom joined him when he found out."
"Ah," Severus said as the grief that was never too far away returned to clog his throat and sink like a stone in his belly.
"He should be eating right about now," she stated rather absently. "I had no idea he was so torn until about a week ago," she admitted. "He came to me quite distraught. He didn't know how to take Halloween at all. Several of those in the House proved to be quite insensitive about the date, treating it more as a delight than something to treat with gravity."
"Albus' fault," Severus muttered. Both of them glanced, a bit bitterly, at the empty Headmaster's seat, the man having left briefly. Minerva glanced at them from her spot to Albus' right in silent question. Pomona merely shook her head and glanced back to the Slytherin Head of House.
"Wants to give the children time to grow," she stated mildly before turning back to her meal with obvious distraction.
"Let's just hope they get to live to do it." Severus growled darkly under his breathe.
"Harry's not here," Susan said in a down manner, as she glanced up and down the table for the distinctive and tall form of the most 'Hufflepuff' of the Hufflepuff first years.
"Neither is Neville," Hannah noted. The boys of the group exchanged a look, while Megan looked ready to kick herself.
"I think Harry and Neville stayed behind in the dorm." Ernie finally said. "Harry received some package in the mail the other day and kept looking at it whenever he was back. He kept it pretty hidden, but I think he's been really upset the last few days." The girls all nodded at this.
"Perhaps he's doing a memorial or something for his parents?" Justin offered. "When my gran died, my mum put a portrait up of her with a candle and some flowers. She lights a new candle every time it's Gran's birthday or the anniversary of her death. It'd make sense if Harry was doing the same."
"Yeah," Megan said quietly. Zacharias sighed.
"Look," he said, "Harry didn't mention it to any of us, right?" They nodded, "Right, well we need to let him do whatever's he's doing like we've done the past week or so. He'll be back to normal in a day or two probably. Until then we can only support him and help him out if he asks for it. Don't crowd him or whatever. Neville's liable to curse you otherwise." The group cracked a grin at that, letting the heavy mood lift from them. Halfway through dessert however, Professor Quirrell came into the hall at a dead run.
"Troll!" He shouted, "Troll in the dungeons!" His eyes then rolled up into his head as he weakly finished, "Thought you should know." He then fainted flat on his face.
Collectively the entirety of the first year Hufflepuffs thought, 'Oh, shit, Harry, Neville.'
Point one: Neither boy was in the hall.
Point two: Neither knew about the troll.
Point three: There was a fucking troll loose in the school!
"Auntie's getting another letter," Susan said as she weakly got to her feet.
Zacharias snorted.
"Lots of people will be getting letters, Sue. Lots and lots of letters, no doubt," He said as the prefects herded them out of the hall and up the stairs away from the basement dorm, the returned headmaster's directions ignored. The Slytherins weren't far behind.
Yeah, they weren't going towards the troll if they could help it.
Pomona rushed towards the Hufflepuff basement with the rest of the teachers on her heels, though a few did however splinter off to ensure the students were clear of the area or if the creature had wandered away from where Quirinus had last reported sighting it.
Her heart dropped, as she saw a massive gray form lumber its way through the hallway towards the one she knew lead to her students' dorm. It wouldn't be able to gain entrance, but if either Neville or Harry investigated the disturbance it would undoubtedly cause…
"Salazar," she heard Severus snarl. "Trust that bumbling fool to be correct the one time we wished he wasn't!" A strong severing curse blasted over shoulder and she watched it connect with the thick hide of the troll's shoulder, though she doubted it would severely harm the beast. It was effective enough however, creating a foot long gash across the beast's upper shoulder. It roared in pain and shock before turning on them in vengeance.
"Merlin," she whispered, but leveled her wand at the creature and shot a mixture of weakening and bludgeoning hexes. Flares of stunners, bludgeoning, and severing curses blasted the twelve foot creature, bathing it in a variety of spell colors. Its roars of anger weakened and turned to growls of pain and fear before it finally collapsed from the combination of stunners and blood loss. The thud of its body on the floor caused the area to shudder a touch, announcing its massive size as though they didn't know already.
"Helga Hufflepuff and all good things," Pomona finally whispered, "thank goodness it went down."
"Professer?" A voice queried and the Hufflepuff common's door, disguised as a barrel with a spigot, opened. Neville Longbottom stuck his head out followed by Harry Potter's. Both boys dramatically paled when they caught sight of their rumpled professors and the enormous, unconscious troll bleeding out in front of them.
"Blimey," Neville said, "Halloween is a rather active holiday."
"Seems more dangerous than active, Neville," Harry replied, his gaze lifting slowly to the headmaster's as he came to a stop behind the group of defenders. "I wonder what else could happen on the cold night of Samhain." He hoped he wasn't mistaken, but it looked like the headmaster had ever so slightly just flinched.
Just what was up with this holiday, and why did the headmaster seem to have an inkling into it?
"You saw the troll?" Ernie said in shock, his mouth dropping home. Justin sitting next to him on the aforementioned boy's bed seemed torn between horror, jealousy, and fascination.
"What did it look like?" Wayne asked.
"Big," Harry answered.
"Gray," Neville, continued.
"And Ugly," they finished together.
"Oh so like Marcus Flint in Slytherin," Oliver said, the whole of the Hufflepuff first year boys made a face. The Quidditch chaser for the Slytherin House Team was rather horrid, especially to 'ickle first year duffers.'
"If there was ever a reason to give up Quidditch, his ugly mug would be it," Ernie grumbled. The die-hard Quidditch fan particularly didn't like him, called him a bad sportsman and such.
"Anyway," Harry said getting back on topic. "Is there anything special about Halloween? Bad things seem to happen on the holiday…" The Muggleborn members of the group, like Justin and Wayne, had not an idea. Oliver a half-blood looked as clueless. Zacharias, however, turned rather stony.
"There," he started, "well, those who follow the Old Religion believe certain times of the year that magic is stronger or different. After centuries this has been proven true…" He paused, glancing at the Muggleborns and Half-bloods in obvious discomfort, they nodded, a frown of worry forming on Harry's features. "Well, those who practice the Old Religion often did rituals and sacrifices. It's not as popular now, what with the influx of Muggle customs in the Wizarding World, but there are those who follow it. Usually those of a… A darker persuasion," Harry blinked before frowning.
"Are you saying this old religion is usually followed by Dark Wizards and Witches?" Harry asked curiously. Zacharias flinched and even Ernie started looking uncomfortable.
"What Zacharias is trying to say," Ernie said slowly, flushing, "Is that they're usually practiced by old conservative Wizarding families, like the Flints, Crabbes, and Goyles. Malfoy would too, but he's actually a descendent of a pureblood French family, although his mother practiced it when she was younger probably since she's a Black." He cast an eye at Neville and Harry who listened closely, "The Potters and Longbottoms weren't really known for it, but they were related to many other old families that did it. Others like the Weasleys totally abandoned it in place of Muggle Christianity." He stumbled over the last word trying to sound it out, the word clearly unfamiliar in his mouth.
"A lot of Muggleborns still practice it or drop their formerly Catholic or Christian beliefs, since they're technically kicked out of their church or something like that." Zacharias said stiffly. A few of the half-bloods and Muggleborns nodded in understanding, even if they weren't entirely fluent or regular churchgoers themselves.
"I'm agnostic," Justin admitted. "'Course, it's a bit of funny sense to be a witch and condemn them. Can't be that kind of hypocrite." The rest of the group nodded again. Harry, however, focused on the less political tangent of the conversation.
"So… During Halloween… Magical power goes up?" He clarified. The purebloods nodded.
"Yeah, it… It's wilder, a time of harvest, like crossing over from life to death. It's traditionally Samhain here in Scotland, but in Wales there's something similar called Calan Gaeaf. Britain has Kalan Goanv, while Cornwall has Kalan Gwav or Allantide." Zacharias stated. Harry nodded before looking away.
"What are you thinking, Harry?" Neville asked, concerned. Harry tapped his chin silently.
"I'm not sure," he replied slowly, "But I think I need to spend some time in the library." His eyes moved back to Ernie and Zacharias.
"What other holidays and times of the year do things like this happen?" He asked.
Hermione Granger wasn't a stalker, as much as an observer. Most recently she'd taken to watching Harry Potter. The tall, slender Hufflepuff was at the center of everything in his group. More than once he, his best friend, Neville Longbottom, and their group of first years could be seen together. However, recently the quarter-giant could be found in a dusty corner of the library seated in an armchair with a pile of books placed on a table next to him. Half of the time he was with Neville or someone else, but right now, this very moment, he was alone.
Hermione worried her bottom lip.
She wanted to approach him, and perhaps say hello, but she wasn't certain if he'd be receptive. After all, they didn't really know each other, and they weren't always friendly with each other, but… She paused in her ruminations before a feeling of utter dejection overcame her. Oh, that jerk Weasley was starting to sound right, she was a buck-toothed know-it-all with no friends with even less of a chance of making them, her eyes filled a bit. She sniffled, remembering the afternoon and night she spent crying in the girls' restroom. She blinked rapidly and wiped at her face as she tried to hold back her tears. Keeping them from dripping down onto the butter smooth calfskin and fragile parchment of the potion text she had been reading from.
So caught up in her distress, she never noticed the shadow crossing over her until a worried, and shy voice enquired.
"Are you okay?" She jerked in surprise and glanced up.
Harry Potter. Smiling and looking at her with those green-green eyes of his.
And she was here crying like a fool.
She hurriedly scrubbed at her face.
"I'm fine," she mumbled. "M-my eyes are just tired." She lied rather badly. He blinked in obvious concern at her and shifted uneasily on his feet.
"D-do you want me to get someone for you?" He asked awkwardly, clearly knowing that she was upset. She sniffed, and her eyes welled up again. The dam holding back the flood burst.
"T-there's no one!" she wailed softly burying her face in her arms. "That dratted Ronald Weasley was right! I have no friends! And who would want to be my friend?! I'm a bookish know-it-all with buck teeth!"
The tall boy stared at her stupefied.
"Uhm…" Harry said and she jerked in surprise when she felt a stiff arm reach over her shoulder and a large, narrow hand with calluses began to pat her hair and rub her back in a rather soothing manner. "There, there. I'm sure that's not true?" His voice and sentiments were obviously uncertain, but the comfort was so welcome that Hermione just threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
He wheezed out a breath, but the patting and rubbing continued.
They stayed that way for several minutes, until Hermione finally got a hold of herself and mortification set in.
"I'm so terribly sorry," she said sitting back abruptly, her hands scrambling for a handkerchief. A fairly clean one appears below her eyes and she snatches it up with a mumbled thank you. She cleaned her face and blew her nose into the cloth daintily. She peeked up over the cloth and met the slightly worried, if a bit surprised and nervous, gaze of the boy crouched in front of her and blushed.
"Alright now?" He asked, before pulling out a chocolate frog and swapping the handkerchief for it. She smiled wobbly at him and nodded. Opening the confection she caught it before the little frog could get away and nibbled on it. The chocolate melted on her fingers and the taste calmed her some, even if her mother's chiding voice had her mentally wincing. A little sugar once in a while couldn't hurt, she argued back stubbornly, a smaller voice saying it was so nice for someone to be kind to her she just wanted to prolong it.
"I am terribly sorry for blubbering all over you," she finally stated, "I feel horrible for forcing you to stay through that." He shrugged and she noticed the tall stack of books placed on the ground next to him, his book bag bulging next to him.
"It's alright, it wouldn't be very nice to leave you alone when you were crying like that," he replied comfortingly, the handkerchief being pushed into her hand once again and the empty candy box taken, shoved into his pocket. She primly cleaned her fingers and around her mouth. The smears, and the fact she used it to blow her nose, made her hesitant to return it.
"I'll get it washed and give it back to you," she told him, stuffing the piece of fabric in to her pocket. He smiled at her, looking slightly bemused.
"No need to rush to return it, you can keep it if you want," Harry said back. "Are you alright now?" He repeated and she nodded.
He quirked a soft smile.
"I'll let you study then." He straightened and picked up his bag and books. She felt a hot burst of disappointment in her chest, distracting her to the point she nearly missed what he said next. "I'm sure you'll make friends. Plus, you have a pretty nice smile to me, no buck teeth at all."
Hermione Jean Granger turned bright pink.
"Oooh~ Looks like Harry's got an admirer," Hannah said in a singsong voice causing Neville to glance up in surprise and question.
"What?" He asked, dumbfounded and Hannah smirked slightly at him before pointing out the quarter-giant and the pint-sized first year girl who was chatting animatedly at him. Her bushy hair and overstuffed shoulder bag a dead giveaway.
"Granger?" Neville said in surprise, watching it, fascinated. Harry didn't seem to be humoring the girl, genuinely talking to her. The girl giggled at something Harry said and Neville watched on, a bit in surprise, as Harry apparently charmed the bookish Gryffindor.
"Wow," Neville muttered, "Never knew Granger could be so girly…"
Hannah giggled.
"I wonder what they're talking about… They look like they're friends," Hannah said.
"Harry's just very nice," Susan stated, "I'm sure he's humoring her. She hasn't really made friends with anyone here yet, scared them off with her brains." The slightest bit of jealousy appeared in her statement and Hannah shot her a look that Neville caught, surprised.
"It's rather Hufflepuff of him though," Neville said, mediating it, a bit nervously, trying to guess what Harry would say in this moment, "Being nice to a girl who hasn't had the easiest time settling in. No one else talks to her like that it seems. Plus, I heard a rumor that she was crying all through the Halloween Feast, Ronald Weasley's very nasty to her and no one in Gryffindor sticks up for her." Susan instantly looked contrite.
"You're right." Susan replied with a sigh. Neville nodded before getting up. The two Hufflepuff First Year girls blinked.
"Where are you going, Neville?" Hannah asked.
"I'm going to see if Granger wouldn't mind joining the study session Harry and I have going on with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle." Neville replied, "I'm sure she'll be able to keep them on track, even with their difficulties in focusing." The two girls exchanged another surprised look before turning to watch both boys talk to the girl. Hannah considered Neville closely while Susan stared at Harry a bit with a pout.
"I call dibs on Neville," Hannah declared rather suddenly and Susan's head jerked around in surprise.
"Eh?" The red haired girl asked.
The blond shrugged.
"He's pretty sweet under all that shyness. A bit of stiff upper lip too!"
Susan glanced back at Harry and bit her lip.
She wasn't ready to declare anything about him yet though.
A/N:
So… I was reading up on psychopath and sociopaths…. Wanted to correctly diagnose Voldemort and all that… But, I'm rather confused by his behavior. Now, I'm just an everyday History Major, however after reading up on the two conditions and antisocial personality disorder, I'm more inclined on saying he suffered from antisocial personality disorder. Yes, I know he's the bad guy, but he doesn't make sense. Personally, I just see this disorder as being the correct one. What do you guys think?
PS- if you see anything wrong with the chapter, let me know, I'll try to correct it eventually. I don't have a beta.
PPS- I'm NaNoWriMo... I think that means I'll be writing a lot this month... My first full novel that's not a fanfic... (and complete...)