Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Again a thanks to my beta, Throckmorton.
Book 1 – Part 6: Contemplation
Harry woke up to the smell of dog breath brushing against his face.
He quickly sat up to find Fang resting his head on the couch cushion, looking at him.
At first, he was at a loss for where he was, but then remembered everything. The nightmare, McGonagall, and the talk with Hagrid.
"Hi, Fang," he said, standing up to stretch.
Hagrid opened the door, and entered.
"Ah, good mornin', Harry. Yer friends are outside. Here, they brought yeh this." Hagrid handed him a bag with clothes, his shoes and wand at the bottom. "Uh, Professor Dumbledore took the liberty of suggestin' it. Ron did the packin'. Well, we'll be outside then, they're helping me with my little garden. Neville certainly knows his stuff. Oh, and I told Hermione when she had come after Ron and Neville, that yeh had come earlier upon my request to help clean the Gurdyroot. Just carry it out when yer ready."
Hagrid pointed to the already done bucket next to the table. Harry smiled before Hagrid smiled back and left, shutting the door behind him.
A moment later, Harry stepped out, pajama free. He found Ron, Neville, and Hermione waiting for him with Hagrid.
He could tell that Ron and Neville hadn't told Hermione; she didn't have the slight concern in her eyes like they did.
"Hey," Harry said, trying not to look nervous as he carried the bucket over to them.
"What are we planting again?" Neville asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Gurdyroot," Harry answered, going along with Neville's show to convince Hermione. "It sort of looks like a green onion, huh?"
- - -
For the rest of the day, Ron and Neville tried their best to act like their normal selves. Hermione had once thought she had seen concern on Neville's face when he had been looking at Harry, but she quickly reasoned it had been her imagination.
Harry didn't know how it had happened, but the four of them had become friends.
Hermione seemed to appreciate Harry's ability to handle Malfoy and his thugs, and liked to discuss fascinating plants with Neville, and as for Ron…he wasn't that bad, and he was actually funny at times, not that she'd ever tell him that.
Hermione pushed Neville, as well as the others, forward in all of their classes, making them put forth more effort than what they would have initially without her constant prodding.
Neville liked being wanted, to be frank, and helping others with the one thing (it seemed) that he was good at (Herbology), filled him with purpose and belonging. He helped Ron the most, since Ron had a harder time with Herbology than the others, but sometimes, Ron would ask a question that would make him go look something up, making them all learn even more.
Neville looked up to Harry in a way one looks up to an older brother. At first he was beyond intimidated by Harry. Harry had a 'take-on-anything' kind of personality, whereas Neville was the opposite, or at least was before he became one of Harry's friends. Now he felt he could at least face some things, instead of none at all.
Ron was the closest to Harry, and Harry was glad to know he had his back, especially now after the whole nightmare incident. Ever since he first met him on the train, he knew he was a vital ally to have. The way he stood his ground with Malfoy, even though he was taking a verbal beating, had not been overlooked by Harry. And having seen the memory concerning Fabian and Gideon, the brothers of Ron's Mom, he felt a connection with Ron and his family, just like he felt with Neville after discovering what his parents had faced.
Harry looked at his friends as they went to the Great Hall for dinner later, and smiled. No other time in his life did everything feel more right than here, alongside his friends.
- -
Their dinner was nice, but afterwards, due to the minimal amount of sleep Harry, Neville, and Ron had the previous night, they were about to conk out in their seats. Hermione urged them forward towards Gryffindor Tower when they were done; however, perhaps due to their sluggish and slow progress, the stairs moved.
"Whoa!"
They clung to the rails as it continued around and finally came to a stop.
Ron and Harry looked at Neville, finding him very green.
"I don't feel good," he groaned.
"Come on, let's get off, I don't think he can take another move like that," Harry said, grabbing Neville's right arm, Ron taking the other. They heaved him up, taking the half dozen steps up to the only door, which Hermione opened, hoping they could take another route.
Hermione leading the way, Ron looked around them.
"Where are we?"
They continued a little further, the floor and walls covered in dust and cobwebs.
"Oh no, this is the third-floor corridor…" Hermione breathed.
"Let's go," Harry said, already turning Neville around, whose face was flush.
They began to turn, but saw Mrs. Norris, the cat, blocking their path, footsteps approaching from somewhere beyond her. Filch.
"This is it!" Ron moaned, Harry now pulling them away from Norris to go down the corridor, seeing that Hermione had run ahead to find an escape route. She came upon a door and rattled the handle, trying to open the door as they caught up to her.
"We're done for! This is the end!" Ron nearly howled.
"No, it's not," Hermione said, pulling out her wand. "Alohomora!"
The door opened, and they thankfully charged in.
Pressing their ears against the door, they heard Filch talk to Mrs. Norris before giving a sigh, and leaving.
"That was close," Ron said, turning around. "Oh—doggy…"
The others turned as well, finding a 'doggy' with three heads.
None of them had ever gotten out of a room so fast…
They slammed that door, and bolted to the Gryffindor Tower, previous tiredness and queasiness forgotten thanks to adrenaline.
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?!"
"Ron, didn't you notice what it was standing on?"
"No, I wasn't looking at its feet! I was too busy looking at its heads! Or maybe you didn't notice, there were three!"
Hermione cracked a smile.
"What?" he asked, still trying to catch his breath, especially after his outburst.
"You're pretty entertaining when you're stressed."
"Oh, glad you're enjoying my discomfort," he replied sarcastically.
Hermione hid her next smile, and looked to Harry and Neville, who were both smiling behind Ron's back.
"Okay, so what was it standing on? Oh, 'observant one'?" Ron asked. "And you better not say, 'the floor' or I'll hex you."
"A trap door."
"You're sure?" Harry asked, stepping up beside Ron.
"Yeah," she said. "That dog's guarding something."
"I wonder what it is," Neville said.
"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Ron said.
"Or both," Harry added.
"Well, whatever's down there, the next time we have the choice to run or face Filch, let's pick the latter," Hermione said, turning towards her dorm.
"I don't know, Hermione, I've heard some things about Filch from my brothers. I think we made the right choice," Ron said.
The others raised their eyebrows, but decided to just let it go, they were now too tired to discuss the topic further.
Bidding Hermione goodnight, the boys went to their dorm.
- - -
Harry was dreading having to face Dean and Seamus as they went up the stairs. He was fine with Neville and Ron knowing he occasionally had nightmares, but Dean and Seamus?
Dean and Seamus were on their beds, looking over Charms. They looked up at Harry, and gave uneasy but slightly reassuring half smiles as Neville shut the door behind him.
"Are you doing better, Harry?" Seamus asked.
"Uh, yeah. I'm uh…sorry you had to see that…" Harry was stumped as to what to really say.
"It's cool, we've all used accidental magic before, Harry. It's why we're all here," Dean said, trying to reassure him. "I made my half-brother spew orange juice out his ears before," he continued, rather proudly Ron thought.
"And don't worry, Harry. Whatever happens in this room, stays in this room," Seamus said.
Harry smiled, relieved and grateful.
"Thanks, I really appreciate that," he said, welcoming the possibility of two more friends.
They all then jumped into their beds, a blissful and undisturbed sleep welcoming them.
- - -
The weekend went quickly, and before they knew it, they were at breakfast, getting ready to go to their next class.
Looking up, Harry and the others saw an owl swoop down and drop a rather large package in front of Harry.
Picking it up, Harry found a little note on it.
DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.
It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got one or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.
Professor M. McGonagallHarry showed the note to his friends who gaped.
After breakfast, the four of them could hardly wait to get to the Tower to open it; even Hermione was excited for Harry.
Going down one of the many halls, they found Malfoy and his buds blocking their path.
Ron and Neville were on either side of Harry, and Hermione was a little behind him.
"What have you got there?" Draco asked.
Harry could tell he was trying to make a show for Crabbe and Goyle, especially since Harry had unintentionally made a fool of him a few days ago by catching that Remembrall and then becoming the youngest Seeker in a century.
Harry hoped the little progress he had made with Draco hadn't been ruined because of that; though, Harry was beginning to doubt whether his influence really mattered.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, since you asked," Harry replied calmly.
"Oh, really? I thought first years weren't allowed brooms," he retorted, moving forward.
"I suppose there are exceptions to everything, but maybe now, since I have this, they'll change the rule soon," Harry said, keeping his cool just as Malfoy snatched it.
"You can go ahead and open it for me if you want, save me the trouble," Harry said, not trying to grab it back as Malfoy started to tear it open.
Malfoy stopped and narrowed his eyes.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" Professor Flitwick squeaked by Ron's elbow, probably having seen Malfoy's glare.
"I was just showing Malfoy my new broomstick, professor, we had been wondering if the first year rule would be changed now since I'll be playing Seeker," Harry said.
"Ah, Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. What model is it?" he asked, ignoring Potter's comment on rule changes.
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," Harry said, seeing the jealousy all over Draco's face.
"Very nice, well, best be off, have things to grade," he said, heading off.
"What model do you have at home, Malfoy?" Ron asked, trying to match Harry's carefree attitude, while at the same time, honestly being curious.
"A Comet Two Sixty," he replied, "What do you have, a Shooting Star?"
Ron narrowed his eyes, knowing Draco had said that as an insult.
Shooting Stars were specifically made to be affordable for less well-to-do families, while still being good enough to ride for sport, meaning that if you had one, it was because you couldn't afford anything else. Not exactly a bad thing, but to the Malfoy's it was.
Harry, didn't know this, but saw the effect it had on his friend, and went into action.
He stepped forward, his face just a foot from Malfoy's, and snatched his broomstick back.
"Why can't we come to an understanding, Draco? I show you respect, you return it. Putting down my friends with sneaky little comments is anything but. You don't see me mocking your two buddies who seem to only be with you because of your surname and wealth," Harry said, for the first time revealing a tad of his anger.
"Yeah, like your friends aren't with you because of your name," he spat.
"For your information, Draco, they befriended me before they even knew my name," Harry stated.
Harry took a step back with his half open broom package, resting it on his left shoulder and holding it with his left hand.
"You could be so much more than you are, Malfoy, but instead you are going to waste your time with hatred, greed, and power. And if you say I don't know what I'm talking about, just remember that I met the individual who founded his life on those things, and look where that got him. Like I told you Friday, you always have options, and only you can truly decide which to take."
Harry then gave a parting nod to Draco and his pals, his green eyes laced with sincerity and his expression solemn. Draco's eyes blazed with a mixture of defiance and defeat. Harry now knew, without a doubt, there was a struggle within Draco, and one he had initialized.
With that, Harry led his friends around Draco and his Neanderthals, the whole time keeping his right hand secretly poised to retrieve his wand.
- - -
Dumbledore reclined back in his chair, thinking about a great deal of many things, someone in particular being in the center. It was now Halloween, and like his students, he could hardly believe they were already two months into the school year.
From the first day of term, Dumbledore had noticed how quickly Harry's three friends had come to him, and he found it slightly odd how even Neville had become one of them, though he was glad of it.
Hearing things from the gossip chain, he knew Neville's Grandmother had often admitted how Neville was not like his father, and that he lacked confidence, ability, and courage.
I wonder what she's going to think when she hears the Boy-Who-Lived has taken him under his wing? Dumbledore asked himself in amusement.
It was obvious that Harry had a soft spot for Neville, very similar to what an older brother has for a tentative younger brother. He couldn't count how many times Harry said something to Neville in the Great Hall, and see Neville nod in agreement and improved confidence. Harry gave Neville exactly what he needed most: belonging and encouragement.
The staff kept him informed of how Harry was doing – how could they not when Harry and his friends were excelling in all their classes, and for the most part, even Potions?
Dumbledore, of course, knew how Snape felt about Harry's father, and though those feelings had passed down to Harry, he was surprised that those feelings hadn't hindered Potter or his friends' learning of Potions, for the most part.
Through the mighty grapevine of Hogwarts, which included the students, ghosts, portraits, and professors, Dumbledore had learned what had happened in that first Potions lesson.
Harry had utterly surprised Snape, knowing when and when not to speak, and though Dumbledore knew Snape would always resent anyone with Potter for a last name, he was certain the hostility had dimmed, if ever so slightly, thanks to Harry's odd approach.
With all that Dumbledore had gathered, Harry's approach was simple and subtle: show respect and submission in most situations, but then reveal confidence and boldness when necessary.
Dumbledore paused as he realized Harry's strategy. Why does he do this? Is it from growing up in his aunt and uncle's house, or is it from something more?
Dumbledore shook himself, continuing on in his thoughts.
It seemed to Dumbledore, and his staff, that Harry and his friends had a system when concerning their classes. When one of them was gifted in a subject, they would help the others, and when one was struggling, the others would focus their attention to assist. Dumbledore knew they didn't actually do this on purpose, but that it just happened that way, a perfect balance they had conceived in the first few weeks of term, and each had a part.
Harry was the head, and perhaps the inspiration for the others to do their best. He also was the one who acted as their protector.
Dumbledore knew things went on between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, they always had, but he got a strange feeling that something else was going on, Potter the source.
Dumbledore had recently caught a few subtle glances Draco had given Harry when he thought Harry wasn't looking, the hatred not as evident as what he had expected to see from a Malfoy. Instead, there was confusion, uncertainty, and, maybe, contemplation.
He had also been told by Professor Flitwick that the day Harry had gotten his broom, he and his friends had run into Malfoy and his two constant companions. Apparently, nothing was the matter, and Harry was just having a conversation with the rich Slytherin.
However, Dumbledore was sure there had been more going on than just that…
Hermione seemed to be the enforcer, reminding the others when they needed to get back on track, and the one who figured things out when none of the others had a clue.
Dumbledore chuckled to himself, remembering just earlier that day, Professor Flitwick had told him how Hermione had gotten them to focus on their 'making objects fly' lesson by making her feather attack one of theirs.
Neville was the quiet, hesitant one, but it was clear that he trusted Harry enough to do what Harry told him, even if he was unsure. Dumbledore had seen that little scene with the Remembrall in the Great Hall, and quietly marveled at how Harry had handled it, and how Neville followed Harry's lead.
And then it had been Neville who had banged on McGonagall's door to get help when Harry had that nightmare. McGonagall later told Dumbledore how fearful Neville had been, but it wasn't fear for himself, but for Harry.
Neville had changed from that awkward, clumsy boy, who had tripped on his way to the sorting hat, to a boy who was loyal and supportive.
Not like his father? He's nothing but, just needed some help getting there, Dumbledore muttered.
Ron was definitely the comic relief and the rare source of educational inspiration, coming up with oddball questions that would make one of the others find something useful. Dumbledore also gathered that Ron was Harry's direct support.
When Dumbledore and McGonagall had entered that room after Harry's nightmare, it was clear who had been leading the clean up and who had taken control. And when Dumbledore had asked what happened, Ron had laid it out for him plain and simple, while at the same time, keeping certain things about Harry to himself, such as exactly how upset Harry had been.
Ron had also been the one to pack the set of clothes for Harry the next day, Hagrid had told him that.
Yes, Harry certainly has made good friends, Dumbledore thought.
Dumbledore sighed, other things coming to mind.
Hagrid, surprisingly, hadn't let anything important slip, but what he had gotten from him was still…troubling.
He could only imagine what kind of nightmare would result someone with magic to cause that much accidental disturbance. When he had initially been told of what had happened, he had assumed some things had been rattled, maybe a few things broken, but not that, not what he found.
It had affected the whole room, and later, some people had come to Professor McGonagall asking what had been going on the night before, because they could have sworn their room had been shaking for a moment.
After hearing that from at least four people, each in separate rooms, Dumbledore realized Harry's accidental magic had reached over half of Gryffindor Tower in some way.
They blamed the disturbance on a few ghosts, which, after being told of the situation, gladly agreed to take the blame.
McGonagall had told him of Harry's condition when he left the room, there was no doubt he had been brought to tears because of his dream, and his set determination to get to Hagrid's had also been surprising.
What happened before term between the Boy-Who-Lived and the Grounds Keeper to cause such trust?
Dumbledore continued to dwell on the subject, running the things Hagrid had told him that night and afterwards around in his head. He knew it had to be extremely serious; Hagrid had never been that serious before in his life when he told him, and had never kept a secret so well guarded.
He was certain the nightmare was at least linked with what had happened that night years ago. With such a powerful curse, there were bound to be long lasting effects, most, if not all, unpleasant.
He had had a long discussion with McGonagall about what should be done to try to prevent incidents like that night in the dormitory from happening again.
Minerva had suggested the Dreamless Sleep Potion, but the prospect of making Harry drink that every night was anything but convenient. Not only would it mean for Snape (constantly having to brew the potion), but it would probably make Harry feel even more out of place.
And how would Harry respond to the suggestion of him drinking a potion every night before bed? Dumbledore doubted he would immediately consent, though, if he'd been having those dreams for as long as he could remember, would he be grateful for the freedom of nightmares? But what about dreams? Good Dreams? And what about when Harry returned to the Durley's? Dumbledore doubted they would allow jugs of the potion to enter their house.
And though the research on the dependency on the potion had been looked into and was promising, should they take the risk? What if he forgot to take it one night, and because he had grown accustomed to not having to deal with such intense dreams, he had a terrible nightmare that rivaled all the others due to the previous suppression?
Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head absently, pushing away all of those excuses and forcing himself to face the real reason for not wanting Harry to go on the Dreamless Sleep Potion.
What if Harry needed to wake up one night, but he couldn't wake up due the potion?
Was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore willing to take the chance? Was he willing to take the guilt and blame if something were to happen? Was he willing to risk the dire consequences of such an event?
No.
Not with everything that had happened, not with everything that was at stake.
If it cost Hogwarts a few nights of shaking floors and walls, if it cost him a few interrupted nights of needing to repair a dormitory, and if it even cost Harry and his dorm mates a few nights of little or no sleep, then so be it.
He paused, looking at the time.
"Ah, Dinner time," he stated.
- - -
A/N: For those of you who review, -thanks- each of you help me type faster. :)
And if any of you have specific questions about why the characters are developing the way they are or anything like that, feel free to ask, I'll answer any questions in the next part.
Next part: Busy Halloween
