Chapter 4: Bonding
The month of September had come to an end, and the monthly staff meeting was about to start. All the teachers and the Headmaster had gathered in the Staff Room, waiting for the last teacher to come in. While everyone was engaged in various topics of conversation, the headmaster enjoyed his ever favourite 'Lemon Drops'— those freshly prepared confectionaries with the right mix of sweet and sour were supremely delicious.
The recipe of the original lemon drops had been created by an Italian who had come to visit Britain in hope for building a business out of it. The business could not be set up due to unexpected difficulties, as unfortunate as it was. However, Albus Dumbledore had drawn out the secret recipe behind those lemon drops (it was a wonder how much one could get with a little bit of Legilimency and a wandless compulsion charm, not that he would ever accept the fact in public) and ever since then, he had his own tiny factory unit that created lemon drops only for him. After all, it wasn't as if he had any future generations to leave any of his fortune.
"Are you sure you don't want one of these, Minerva?" asked Albus brightly. "They are freshly prepared, you could feel its essence from a distance."
"No, thank you very much, Albus", said Minerva.
"Freshly prepared, professor?" asked Elizabeth Fawley, the newest member of their staff, who had also quickly turned into the students' favourite teacher. He had heard talks about how she had performed enchanted conjuration and wandless magic. Albus knew she had been a bright witch while in school, but he had never expected her to be this talented. "Aren't these muggle sweets only made in Italy?"
"Well, yes. I had asked the Italian gentleman to share its recipe to me, while he was visiting England", said Albus, revealing the half-truth. "So, I had decided to open a small factory to produce these delicacies for myself."
Suddenly, everyone in the staff room had paused their respective conversations and looked at Albus as if he had grown two heads.
"I must've heard you wrong, Albus", said Severus, an expression of disbelief etched on his face. "But did you say you opened a whole factory, to supply for your sweets?"
Albus sighed. Why was it always so hard to explain to them the true worth of lemon drops? "It's a pity you don't understand that lemon drops are no simple sweets." Albus' voice was suddenly very stern. "They—"
Precisely at that moment, Bathselda Babbling, the Ancient Runes professor came in. "I'm so sorry, I got stuck with correcting the third years' essays", said Bathselda.
"No doubt they were abysmal", commented Severus.
"They were…acceptable", said Bathselda, but Albus knew she was disappointed with this year's lot. "They've just started with the subject, I mean."
"I believe we can start with the monthly reports, then?" asked Albus, causing the teachers to straighten up a bit. "I must first ask…how are the first years faring within the new environment?"
"Some of my Hufflepuffs were indeed a bit homesick in the beginning", said Pomona. Albus heard Severus say something like 'cry babies', but he chose to ignore the comment. "But my older years are helping to make them feel at home. Especially Cedric Diggory is becoming quite popular among his peers in helping the younger years."
"The first year Slytherins are content with their arrangements", said Severus. "They are trying to do their best in academics, at the moment."
"My Ravenclaws are doing well", said Filius. "They have made good friends with the Gryffindors and Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis of Slytherin."
"Yes, I was surprised that Gryffindors could ever be civil with Slytherins", commented Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor. "Especially Mr. Potter is very good friends with Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis."
"Yes, that is true", said Minerva. "This year's Gryffindor first years lack the house prejudice against Slytherins, even Mr. Weasley is warming up to them, and he was undoubtedly the most hesitant of them because of his mother's rather…orthodox beliefs. And they are faring well, even Mr. Longbottom has gained some confidence after Mr. Potter stood up for him that day."
"I think it was Potter taking out his anger on Mr. Malfoy for not being given the privilege of being allowed into the house team", said Severus scowling. "He wants us to provide him with special treatment just like his father."
"I must disagree with you, Severus", said Filius, before Minerva could say anything. "Mr. Potter does not expect any special treatment from us. As for what happened that day, Mr. Potter tried not to physically harm Mr. Malfoy, and instead warned him not to bully Mr. Longbottom. Again, Mr. Malfoy had fired the first spell. Mr. Potter was just faster and better than him, as simple as that. And as for Mr. Malfoy's stay in the Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter is serving detention for it."
"He was playing with Hagrid's thestrals in what you call a detention," snapped Severus.
"Well Severus, if Mr. Potter somehow enjoyed that particular detention", it was Albus who spoke this time, "we can't say that nullifies the detention."
"Anyways, moving on…" said Albus before Severus could interrupt him again. "How are the first years doing academically?"
"All the students in Herbology are doing well", said Sprout cheerfully. "Longbottom is doing rather splendidly. He has got the green thumb like his grandfather Francis did."
"Everyone is rather doing well in my class", said Filius. "Especially the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Slytherin students. Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger and Ms. Greengrass are able to perform the charms in their very first try, while the rest of them are able to complete within one class. Because of this they are moving in a faster pace. All of them have succeeded in the Locomotor charm, and I think I will have to do the Levitation charm a month earlier. As far as the Hufflepuffs go, Ms. Bones and Mr. Flintch-Fletchley are usually able to complete the charm within the first class."
"Most don't consider Potions to be a subject worthy of them, because it does not involve foolish wand-waving," began Severus. And with that he continued his tirade on students blowing up cauldrons.
Dumbledore sighed. This would be a long three hours indeed. Maybe he would help himself with some brandy at Three Broomsticks after the meeting was over. He assured himself that he would also succeed in doing smoke rings this time around, with his pipe.
Harry pushed open the trapdoor and emerged inside a dark room. It was the cellar of a shop named Honeydukes, if he wasn't wrong. He had found out that the Weasley twins had a map of Hogwarts showing all the secret passageways inside the school, the secret corridors and the likes, called the Marauders' Map. Harry didn't think the Weasley twins would ever give him their map, so Harry had decided he would make his own. But his first job was discovering the secret passageways and corridors that already existed in the map. And then he would have to draw a map for himself. Regarding the feature of showing where people were, he would have to look up books on obscure charms for that, but as gifted as Harry was, he was still a first year. So, exploring the castle and drawing a map was a good idea for now. Moreover, it couldn't be that whoever this Marauders were, they'd gotten all the secret passageways or corridors, could it?
"Lumos", muttered Harry causing his wand to light up brightly, as he scrambled out of the trapdoor into the cellar. "Come on, hurry up!" Harry hissed at the two Gryffindors who were yet to come out.
A brown haired boy could be seen struggling to get up out of the trapdoor. Harry sighed, and used his wandless magic to subtly pull Neville up. Neville was panting as he stood up from his sitting position.
"You need to lose some of that baby fat, Neville", said Harry. "Maybe run a few times in the morning."
"Keeping up with both of you has been enough for me", said Neville, as Ron scrambled out of the trapdoor too. "Both of you are tall and have long legs."
"Wicked!" gushed Ron excited at seeing the dimly lit cellar of the Honeydukes. He was about to light his own wand too, when Harry forbade him.
"I could've easily used a Lumos Solem and lit up the entire room brighter than this", said Harry. "But there are windows there", Harry pointed towards the glass windows on the shop. "Bring in more light, and if someone spots us from outside we're done for."
"You're right, mate", said Ron, nodding his head in agreement with Harry's reasoning.
"We aren't gonna take any stuff from in here, are we?" Neville asked the two.
"We won't", said Harry reassuring Neville. "That would be called stealing, and even if we decide to take a few stuff this way in the near future, we would leave a few sickles behind. Although, this is trespassing, we don't really have any ill intentions, do we?"
"Are we gonna check out Hogsmeade, then?" asked Ron.
"Yeah", said Harry, giving Ron a look like that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Then what d'ya we're doing walking for twenty minutes or so in that dark, dingy tunnel? Check out the spiders?"
"But what if we get caught?" asked Neville fearfully.
"Then the most they'll do is give us detentions with Hagrid", said Harry rolling his eyes. "It's fun, you know. He has pretty cool creatures. Anyways, the probability of getting caught is low."
The door to the main shop from the cellar creaked as they opened it, causing the three to wince. Harry used his telepathic abilities to tell if someone was there who could've heard them, and thankfully there wasn't. Well, that is unless Fawley and Dumbledore were nearby, which Harry hardly thought would be the case. Harry looked outside the window and all he could see was the cold village road.
Harry went to the door, took his wand out and pointed it at the lock muttering, "Alohomora."
There was a 'click' sound, and the door opened.
"What's the point of using a locking charm if the door can be unlocked with a first year spell?" asked Ron.
"Because the next powerful locking charm, is a complicated one", said Harry. "Nearly N.E.W.T. level, and not everyone is so compatible with charms to do so. Instead they use a simple household charm on the outer lock, preventing anything but the key to open it. People prefer doing that, as it serves the purpose just fine…What's it anyways that is making your face look like Filch suffering from constipation?" Harry asked Ron who was watching a box of red coloured toffees.
"Blood toffees", said Ron, who looked like he had just swallowed something disgusting. "Vampires like having them, but Fred and George swore they saw some in Snape's office."
"He might have vampire blood in him", said Neville. "I won't be surprised if he does. He looks scary to me."
"Yeah right, we'll discuss about Snape's genealogy later", said Harry, coming out of the shop. "Come on."
Ron and Neville followed Harry's suit and stepped out into the chilling air of Scotland. The door closed behind them with a 'click', causing Ron and Neville to look panicked.
"Don't worry I know another way to the castle", Harry told them. "So, how about we go to that haunted house in Hogsmeade?"
"The Shrieking Shack?" asked Ron grinning. "Wicked!"
"Are you sure?" asked Neville whimpering a little. "I mean it's near one in the morning now, and what if the…ghosts…"
"Honestly Neville!" said Harry exasperated. "It's not like Hogwarts doesn't have ghosts!"
"That's the Three Broomsticks", said Ron pointing towards a wooden signboard to their right which said Three Broomsticks and had picture of three broomsticks. "And those are the Hogwarts gates…" Ron pointed towards the silhouette of the castle to their left. "That means the Shrieking Shack would be at that end of Hogsmeade", said Ron pointing towards his right.
Harry was momentarily surprised by Ron's brilliance to discern the location just from hearing conversations from his older brothers. Maybe Ron was a bit…laid back, but he was brilliant sometimes, and there was a reason why he wasn't among the lovey-dovey Hufflepuffs.
The trio walked towards the apparent direction of Shrieking Shack, with Harry using a 'Lumos Solem' to make a ball of light float near the ground, so that it wouldn't be visible from the nearby windows of the residents of Hogsmeade, and still light their path for them. Ron's direction hunch proved out to be a correct one, as they indeed saw the outline of the haunted house in front of them. The fallen leaves crunched beneath their boots as they marched towards the infamous Shrieking Shack. It was when Harry entered into the boundaries of the Shack that he noticed the hesitance of his companions.
"Even if there are ghosts, the most they can do is give us a sensation of ice being dropped upon us when they pass through us", said Harry trying to reassure them. "And if there is a poltegerist, well we could use that spell we once used against Peeves, eh?"
Ron nodded mutely, and Neville thought it was better if he followed them rather than stay alone outside. As they kept on walking, Harry said to Neville, "You know Neville, what makes a wizard or a witch compatible with magic is how much confidence, determination and conviction they have within themselves. The fact that you've got a Hogwarts letter means you have magic inside you. Do you know why people get so worked up because of their acceptance letter from Hogwarts?"
Neville and Ron just shook their heads, so Harry continued. "It's because the Quill and Book of Acceptance are perhaps the toughest of items to judge your magical abilities. It was enchanted in such a way, that those who are selected, at least hold the capability of performing N.E.W.T level magic with enough determination to do so. There are many, who have performed some kind of magic, yet they don't get the Hogwarts Acceptance letter. Fawley told me all this." The trio now stood a few yards away from the front porch of the Shrieking Shack, but the two of them had forgotten about the apparent haunted house and had been listening intently to Harry.
Harry walked up to the front porch and tried to open the door, to find that it was thankfully unlocked. The door creaked loudly as he opened it. The ball of light moved inside the shack and rose to the ceiling and then started getting brighter and brighter, till the room, which had the surprising look of a living room, looked as if it had been lit by a muggle tube light. Fawley had told him it was possible for a witch or wizard to control the amount of effect a spell took, and had showed him the very same Lumos charm with different intensities. It had taken him a day and a half to regulate the power of the spell, something Harry knew had her impressed, because of the short span of time in which he had taken it up.
The three boys entered into the Shrieking Shack, and noticed their surroundings. The house was well furnished (in a manner of speaking), but there was a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering nearly the all of house. Harry traced his fingers along the dust covering the sofa and examined it closely.
"Keep the door closed", Harry told Ron. "Come on, we've got to explore this place."
"But, Harry…what if…" began Neville.
"This house has not been inhabited for more than a decade by any dangerous creature or poltegerist", said Harry confidently. "And so even if there is any ghost, it is going to be least problematic to us."
"You're right this place is too dusty and there are a lot of…" Ron suddenly did look a bit panicked. "There are going to be spiders…please don't deny that", said Ron looking at the thick cobwebs.
"Well yeah, spiders are most definitely in here", said Harry. "Come on now. After we explore this place we have to look for a trapdoor here that will lead us to the Hogwarts grounds."
"Wait…you mean to tell me that this was the alternative way to the castle you know of?" asked Neville panicking. "But you don't exactly know where the trap door is?"
"Well, I guess it's somewhere in the ground floor as it can't be in the first floor for obvious reasons", said Harry. "And we'll be able to tell if we come across a trap door."
"But we could hardly see the outline of the trapdoor in Honeydukes!" said Ron.
"Seeing isn't the only sense we have", said Harry. "We're gonna use our ears to find the trapdoor. Now, let's go upstairs."
"Why don't we first find the trapdoor and then do all the explorations we need to do, huh?" insisted Neville.
"Because, I have to reach to some conclusions about this place, before we start to find the trapdoor", Harry informed them, getting irritated a little. "If we try and find the trapdoor first, it will squander the correct conclusion I could reach to."
"All right", Ron relented and Neville too sighed.
"Brilliant!" said Harry, suddenly in a cheerful demeanour. "Let's go shall we?"
The Shrieking Shack, despite the thick coat of dust, seemed to have been in a rather dishevelled state before it had been abandoned by whatever stayed here. The furniture seemed to be tore down to shreds by a beast. There was a huge claw mark on the stairwell, which had caused Ron and Neville to turn pale.
"This definitely proves that whatever resided inside the Shrieking Shack was not some rowdy ghost", said Harry. "This is some kind of beast. Some kind of magical beast to be more specific. The claw mark looks as fresh as ever, despite this place being abandoned."
"Could it be a werewolf?" said Ron, shivering a bit.
"Among all magical creatures, it fits the observations the most", mused Harry. "A brilliant guess. The dust coating proves that the beast was around the time of the Wizarding War of Britain, and at that time werewolves did exist here. Now they've all migrated to the Black Forest in the continent because of the Anti-Werewolf legislations coming out. They would starve to death living here in Britain had they wanted to live an honest life."
There was a kitchen in the ground floor too, the cabinets of which appeared to be torn down by the apparent werewolf that resided here.
The stairs creaked loudly as they moved upstairs, and for more than once they seemed to be threatening to collapse. If the ground floor looked worse for wear, it was nothing compared to the first floor. Harry suddenly crouched down and dusted a small part of the floor. A brown stain was there on the floor.
"What're you looking at—looks like mud", said Ron.
"Blood", replied Harry, and then winced at the awful way their words conjoined. "Okay, that came off as a little…"
"Yeah", said Ron awkwardly.
"But it is blood", said Harry with conviction. "There's no doubt about it."
There were three rooms on the first floor, and one of the doors from the room was torn down from the middle. The trio entered that room.
The room looked like it had been inhabiting about twenty or so werewolves with the state of the furniture and the walls. While outside they had found one blood stain, Harry could locate several. Harry looked closely at the various blood stains.
"It's very difficult to infer", said Harry. "But this blood stain is almost like a brown patch on the wall, and…" he pointed to another patch of blood. "This looks more like dried blood. The werewolf stayed here for a long time indeed, say a few years, or if I could guess seven years. And it is the werewolf's own blood."
"How can you guess it stayed here for seven years?" asked Neville curiously. It seemed Neville was more curious now about all this, than scared. He had realised that despite this place being really scary, housed only the three, whether living or dead.
"The werewolf stayed here for quite a long time", said Harry. "There's a secret passageway to school from this place. This means the werewolf was either a student or a teacher in employ. But it is highly improbable that it was a teacher seeing as the maximum the time the werewolf has lived here is around ten years, and the timeline…but, of course!" Harry thumped his fist on his palm as the thought entered his mind. "D'you know where does this passageway from Shrieking Shack lead to?"
"Yeah, we've got all the secret passageways memorized, right Neville?" said Ron sarcastically.
"No need to be so snarky", Harry snapped back at them. "This passageway leads to the Whomping Willow", said Harry referring to the tree which smashed everything that went near it. "The Whomping Willow was planted by Sprout in 1971. So, let's say a student started in 1st September 1971, then he graduated in 1978. It all fits perfectly!"
"And around the mid-1950s to 1972 or so, this werewolf called Greyback used to bite children and change them to werewolves", said Neville. "My gran told me stories about him and how my Dad had been given the task to take care of him when he first joined the Aurors, and faced him a few times. The Dark Lady killed Greyback, though."
"Why would the Dark Lady kill a…I don't know…a dark creature?" asked Harry. "She could've used him in her forces. Moreover, werewolves did join her forces."
"I don't know, mate", said Ron. "Maybe he was too savage even for the Dark Lady's taste."
Harry hummed thoughtfully. "Well, that fits. So, Dumbledore wanted to give a chance to whoever this werewolf kid was", said Harry. "Sounds like something Dumbledore would do. So, this solves the mystery of the most haunted building in Britain."
"That's all great and stuff", said Neville. "Now, can we go look for whatever trapdoor there…wait, you said the passageway would lead us to the Whomping Willow, correct?"
"Yeah…"
"So, how are we gonna get out without the Willow beating us to pulp?" asked Ron, realising what Neville had been referring to.
"As I was going to say, the Whomping Willow was probably planted to scare of the students from this passageway. And it did its purpose, as even Fred and George don't venture near it", reasoned Harry. "But the kid must have to travel here. So, I guess there must be something which would let us pass through the Whomping Willow."
"You guess?" asked Ron incredulously. "You guess? You don't know for sure? What if we are beaten to a pulp?"
"My guesses are usually correct", said Harry, sniffing haughtily. "We can cast an Immobulus, if there isn't anything we can find. If that doesn't work either, we are gonna butter Hagrid up. And if you are wondering, yes I came up with the plans now, on spot."
The trio stepped downstairs, this time Neville and Ron's legs were shaking because of the rather delicate state of the stairs. Thankfully, the stairs managed to not collapse.
"I have a hunch, and most of my hunches are usually correct", began Harry, "there is very less probability of the trapdoor being in the living room. So, we'll start with this place around the stairs."
Harry then started thumping his feet loudly while walking around the narrow hall near the stairs.
"I say he's gone barmy", whispered Ron to Neville, who just nodded. Harry continued on for about five minutes or so, and Ron seemed to be losing his patience.
"Yeah, he's sure gone barmy", said Ron.
Harry suddenly stopped, and then a triumphant grin appeared on his face. He thumped on one part of the wooden floor and then the other, and Neville's eyes widened. "That's brilliant—how—" whispered Neville.
"Thanks Neville", said Harry, beaming at the round faced boy. "But I merely did what my common sense told me."
"What? What'd he—" Ron began but Neville cut across him.
"Don't you see it Ron?" asked Neville. "Harry found the trapdoor. The place beneath that trapdoor is obviously hollow. And so, it would mean it would create a different sound than rest of the floor, which it obviously did."
To prove it, Harry again thumped his feet on two different spots, and sure enough the two sounds were different if you listened to them closely. Harry crouched down and started tracing his fingers on the floor, and then he pushed the trapdoor up. "Well, come on now."
Harry jumped through the trapdoor and felt his feet impact the ground. Neville followed Harry, who landed on his butt and Ron came down next, closing the trapdoor behind him, after allowing the ball of light to pass through.
The passageway was very similar to the one that led to Honeydukes, soft mud around the place. Harry felt Ron's fear of spider come back, as he saw a couple of cobwebs, and Harry resisted the urge to sigh. The trio started walking to where the passage lead them.
"So Neville, as I was saying before entering the Shrieking Shack", said Harry. "You need to have the conviction within yourself that you can do what you want to achieve through your magic. Magic is like one of your limbs, which you can use freely…if you consider magic as so, then magic will respond to you. But magic does have some difficulty showing up if you use a wand that is not compatible with you."
"What?" asked Neville, hearing the last of what Harry told him.
"The wand which you use", said Harry softly. Knowing he was reaching a sensitive topic here. "It's not yours, is it? But someone who is special to you."
Neville nodded mutely.
"I get it Neville, I really do", continued Harry. "But a wand always chooses the wizard, not the other way round. Ollivander said so to me, and McGonagall agreed with what he had said."
"But I don't think gran will…"
"Then I think your gran should stop seeing you as the second Frank Longbottom", said Harry gently. "She needs to accept it. You are a different person from him, of course you would not be your father! You are both your parents put together, with several instances in your life to add to what you are today. You can never be Frank Longbottom, and I don't think even your Dad would've wanted you to be one. He would've wanted you to be Neville Longbottom, and so try and be it."
No one said anything after Harry's speech, and Harry commended himself for coming up with such a motivational speech on spot.
Ron yawned quite loudly while they were on their way. "I'm glad tomorrow's Sunday…I'll be sleepin' in", said Ron.
"We can visit the kitchens for a late breakfast", said Harry. "I know where that is located too."
"But would they allow us to have food from the kitchens?" asked Neville after which he tripped on another stone, making it his third tripping in this tunnel.
Harry caught Neville before he could fall headfirst.
"Fred and George go in there all the time, and I don't think they have been refused so far", Ron told them.
It had been nearly a half an hour walk, before they found the tunnel rising again, and then they noticed a fissure above them.
Neville peered his head slightly out of the fissure and told the other two, "It comes out of the roots of the Whomping Willow."
"Alright, I don't know how long this is gonna work, so I want you guys to run as fast you can, once I pull this lever", said Harry. "In all probability, this will freeze the Whomping Willow for some time."
"What lever?" asked Ron and then his eyes landed on a wooden lever Harry was holding. "Oh. Neville, mate, you gotta run as fast you can."
"A-All right", stuttered Neville.
"NOW!" barked Harry as he pulled the lever down.
Harry immediately found Neville wriggle out among the roots, followed quickly by Ron, and Harry came in the last, making the blue orb of light disappear by muttering a simple, "Nox."
The trio dashed out as far as they could out of the tree's reach, and when they were more than two hundred yards away from it, they saw the Whomping Willow was still immobile. They watched it for what could not be more than twenty seconds, after which the tree suddenly gave a jerk, and then started moving in with the breeze.
"That was so bloody wicked!"
"Told you my hunches are always correct."
"I'm glad there were no ghosts or anything in there."
"Well, we can safely go to the common roo—"
Before Ron could finish however, they heard loud barks, and the trio looked up in the direction of the meadows to find a large three headed dog, about ten feet or so high, charging towards them. None of them realised what was happening, and almost by instinct, Harry raised his wand and incanted hastily in a soft voice, "Protego!"
It was a spell which people learnt in their fourth year of school, and it was not a spell Harry had tried before. He had decided upon checking it out later, as it was essential for duelling. But then again he could do the summoning charm since six, or perhaps even younger, and that too wandlessly. That was supposed to be a fourth-year spell too. With all his will, he wanted his magic to protect him from the dog. For a moment, it seemed like nothing happened and the cerebus kept charging towards them now only ten or so yards away. However, as soon as the cerebus leapt on them, it collided against and invisible wall separating the three from the beast, and it bounced back from the place it had struck. Harry watched in awe at his own magic as the beast flew in the air, and fell to the ground, fifteen or so yards away from them, knocked out.
The Protego, the most basic shield charm, if properly cast, and more powerful than the incoming object's momentum or the power of an incoming spell or barrage of spells, could shift the momentum back to the object but in the opposite direction, the same could be said for a spell.
"FLUFFY! OY, FLUFFY!" a very familiar voice came, and the trio saw Hagrid approach them, and stop dead in his track on seeing the scene. The trio standing there, with Harry's wand raised and Fluffy knocked out.
Harry regulated his breathing and spoke, "I think he's just been knocked out", said Harry breaking Hagrid out of his stupor. "He was ready to pounce on us, and I used a shield charm and well, it bounced back and got knocked—"
"Hagrid what has—" another voice spoke and this time they saw Fawley appear hurriedly from the direction of the school.
Fawley took in the scene. She had an unreadable expression on her face and when she turned towards the trio she simply raised an eyebrow.
Fawley waved her hand and four cups floated gracefully towards them followed by a kettle of simmering tea.
Hagrid hadn't been mad at Harry after Fluffy getting knocked out, when Harry had apologized to him, and was just relieved that nothing had happened to the three. Fawley hadn't spoken a word and the only thing she had done was wake up Fluffy by waving her wand over him. Hagrid had taken Fluffy back to the castle, while Fawley had walked on without a word, and the three Gryffindors had followed her. She had led them to the fourth floor where Harry knew her office was situated.
"It's quite cold outside, you can have some tea", Fawley finally spoke. "You must forgive me though, I don't like milk with my tea nor am I a fan of sugar with it. But it's the best Darjeeling."
A brief flicker of surprise came over Harry's face on hearing about the way she had her tea, but he reverted back to the facial expression of the most innocent looking face with puppy dog eyes. It always helped.
The three took the tea mugs from her, Harry gratefully and the other two a bit hesitantly.
"Professor we can explain", said Ron after some time.
Harry and Fawley took a sip of their tea at the same time. Harry kept silent while Fawley merely said, "Please do so."
"I was hungry…because, erm, Harry didn't let me finish dinner saying I had to do my Transfiguration homework. I decided it was best if I did all the week's homework itself the very same day…so I could, uh, enjoy the weekend", Ron rambled on, pausing here and there to make his story. "My stomach was in a lot of pain because of the hunger…" Harry cringed at that part, "my brothers told me that the kitchen was near the, erm, greenhouse, because you've got food and stuff there, well, then the giant three headed dog came, Harry did something with his wand, and the dog got knocked out."
Harry saw Neville grimace at Ron's stories, while Fawley seemed unimpressed.
She sighed in melancholy, shaking her head. "And here I thought I was going to be amused by whatever story you came up with, but I would give it a one out of ten. It would've been two, had it not been for the parts which were so cringe worthy." Suddenly, she sat in a business like posture. "You were out in the grounds when it is half past three in the morning, and since I expect none of you can come up with anything better, let us move to the punishments. Fifty points from Gryffindor—"
"Fifty!" exclaimed Ron in outrage. "But it's an—"
"Had it been Professor McGonagall, she would've deducted fifty each", said Fawley coolly. "And Professor Snape would've gone straight for expulsion and what not. Anyways, with that you would also be serving detention for a week with Hagrid."
The three visibly relaxed on having a detention with Hagrid.
"Now, you would tell me exactly what happened or I will be assigning the detentions with Mr. Filch, who likes students to clean the bathroom, trophy room, especially the filthiest parts of the castle, without magic", said Fawley, causing the three to visibly pale. "And Harry, there is no use doing those eyes on me, so let it go—you are getting away with it quite easily, if I say so myself. And don't lie, I can always", she cast Harry a meaningful look, "…tell."
And so Harry did tell her everything, going into detail about how they had realised that a werewolf had been using the Shack, the dried blood, the trapdoor, Honeydukes, the whole of their adventure. He just didn't reveal how he had vague ideas about the passageways, but she didn't pry much on it. The four of them took their second helping of tea, as their story continued.
When they ended the story, Fawley finally said, "Now, that was quite an adventure." She let out a chuckle and said, "I am a teacher and I shouldn't support this, but I myself had the hobby of exploring the castle during my time in school and I can sympathise. Although, going out to Hogsmeade and the Shrieking Shack, as first years and in your second month of school is a bit too much. Anyways, Harry can you show me your 'Protego'?"
Harry merely nodded and stood up, and moved to a side of the office. "Protego", he incanted.
A red light shot out of Fawley's wand and on nearing Harry, it spread out and Harry saw the shimmering of a convex transparent shield reflect the red light back at Fawley at full speed, but she lazily caught the red beam and deflected it, causing it to hit her office wall, but then she twirled her wand before the spell could affect it, and the wall remained undamaged.
"That was an impressive shield charm", said Fawley. "That was a Stunning Spell, and it got deflected easily. As you could tell, it was a mildly powerful one, not a meagre. Ten points to Gryffindor for the shield charm. And also another ten points for your excellent deduction skills."
This was the first time Fawley had awarded him points and Harry felt a slight blush appear at her praise.
Harry sat back on his chair, ignoring the excited looking Neville and Ron.
"Remus Lupin, had indeed been a werewolf while at school", explained Fawley. "He was one of your father's best friends, from what I know. A talented wizard, but our world is such that he has to live in poverty at the moment, barely scraping out jobs here and there."
"He-he was one of my father's friends?"
"Why, yes Harry", said Fawley. "Your parents had their first year in 1971 itself, along with Professor Snape. And Remus Lupin was in Gryffindor in the same year as your father. They were bound to be friends." She smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry."
Harry simply nodded.
"Well, I think I better escort you to your Common Rooms now", said Fawley, as the four stood up. On their way they met Filch, who looked ready to bust them, but since they were with a professor, they were already 'busted', or so the caretaker thought.
It was at half past four in the morning when the trio had finally gotten to bed.
"You know, mate, Fawley's brilliant!" said Ron lying down.
"Yeah", said Harry, staring at the ceiling. "She is."
The detentions with Hagrid were nice enough. Going to the Forbidden Forest where they met a centaur named Bane, then Hagrid had one day brought a baby unicorn with him, and the next day they had befriended the hipogryffs, and the day after, they had met with the thestrals (it seemed Neville was able to see the thestrals too).
Among learning new spells, exploring the castle on Friday and Saturday nights, doing homework and classes, Harry couldn't believe that he had spent almost two months in Hogwarts. Harry had learnt as many spells as he could, which he thought might help him in the duelling. The 'Duelling through Ages' also mentioned tactics of Battle Transfiguration and use of a few charms in duels, but the transfiguration were all fourth year and above stuff, moreover it required to be performed with a lot of skill as the transfiguration was done for many objects at once, and talented that Harry was, he didn't think he was capable of that. The charms were the ones which were learnt in sixth year or above, so Harry stuck with typical defensive spells for now.
As Halloween rolled around, everyone among the first years was excited for the famed Halloween feast, and rightfully so. There were wizarding candies of different kinds all around the place, and Hagrid had been growing special pumpkins to decorate the place with. Despite, the festivities, Harry knew that this was the very day he had been orphaned, and however much he tried to stay cheerful, today he didn't feel the best. He simply did what the teachers had asked him to (although he was the first one to do the spells as usual), and they sympathised with him. Fawley had told him to meet her the next day (Friday) in the evening, after her class had been over and offering him a sad smile. He knew out of all the people, she understood him.
Halloween passed by without any incident and the next day, in the evening came what Harry had been profusely waiting for. This could very well turn out to be his first duelling lesson, or he might also be turned down for not knowing enough spells. After dinner he had gone to Fawley's office and knocked on the door.
"Come in", came the voice of Professor Fawley.
Harry stepped inside to find Fawley leaning on to her table, twirling her wand. "We will be using one of the empty classrooms, as…well, I don't want my office destroyed now, do I?"
Fawley came out of her office and asked Harry to follow her. With a flick of her wand, she had closed the door. "We will be using an empty classroom in the seventh floor."
The place turned out to be a classroom directly opposite to a portrait of Barnabus the Barmy attempting to teach ballet to trolls.
It looked like one of the usual classrooms, but Harry didn't seem to think the classroom had been there before. She flicked her wand and a dummy appeared.
"Very well, Harry, show me the spells you've got", said Fawley.
And so Harry did. He used curses, jinxes and hexes he knew on the dummy. Harry used the Reducto, Stunning spell, even the Bombarda, and a few other hexes he had caught up in a few books.
Fawley had just observed him, no emotion being revealed on her face. When the dummies fell or got destroyed, she vanished it with a flick of her wand and conjured another one. When Harry had performed the last one—Impediment Jinx, he looked at her nervously, "Well, um, that's it."
"You have learnt a lot of spells", she commented idly. "And I am impressed with the numbers you know, considering it's just been two months since you have started your first year. And I do believe it would be enough for you to start basic duelling."
Harry was relieved.
"Now, you would be meeting me for these duelling classes twice a week. Friday evenings and Tuesday evenings", said Fawley. "I'd appreciate if you don't mention about these duelling classes to your friends, as I doubt they could ever be able to keep up with the pace with which we would be moving. Not to mention, the sheer amount of spells you have mastered in this short span of time, is something they could never match. Moreover Harry, I would be going very hard on you."
Harry simply nodded.
"Most of the duelling I have learnt is self-taught, but despite that I believe very few people could match my skill", continued Fawley. Harry didn't need to doubt what she had said. Not many wizards and witches were capable of wandless magic, and she was. This proved that she was powerful, and she had the obvious advantage of years.
"Now, Duelling is much different than your regular Defence against the Dark Arts", began Fawley. She kept pacing around the classroom, and the passion with which she spoke, told him how much she knew about the subject. "While many 'duellers' keep themselves restricted at a same place and keep firing spells, and use shields, they have no idea what real duelling is. You can use anything and everything in duelling—curses, hexes, jinxes, transfiguration, charms, elemental magic, necromancy, muggle fighting techniques, even to those who know of its application, alchemy. There is no magic which can't come useful when you are duelling. Of course people frown upon the use of very dark spells, say the unforgivable curses, and using necromancy could see you in jail if someone holds witness, but when you are fighting for your life, you shouldn't restrict your magic. Do you think Dumbledore could've defeated Grindelwald ever, without an acute and deep knowledge of the Dark Arts? Whether, he used them or not, I don't know—though I believe he did—but Grindelwald very obviously used them and Dumbledore, no doubt, knew the counter-curses to them, as he's well and alive". Harry drank in every word Fawley spoke with keen interest. "Take the Dark Lady for example. Do you think she could've matched in so many duels with just the Dark Arts? Some people will think themselves to be at the top of the world by knowing a few hexes and curses, but the more knowledge you have, the greater the advantage you would pose over your opponent, however skilled he or she might be.
"Next, tactics. Your spell arsenal might not be as wide as your opponent, but if you know when or where, what spell to use, remember your duel is won then and there. At the heat of the moment, you have to know what spell to use and counter it. Your reaction."
Her blue eyes met his green, and she stared intently at them.
"Now we would be using duelling with defensive and offensive spells only", said Fawley. "This is the basic form of duelling, and so first we would be working on your defence. Can you tell me, Harry, although a shield charm can protect against nearly everything except the unforgivables, what is its disadvantage?"
"It would collapse as soon as an overpowered spell or an onslaught of spells are struck against it", said Harry at once. "And, I think it would also make it difficult if you want to counter-attack your opponent."
"Well put", said Fawley nodding her head. "So, in any duelling a wise course of action would be moving out of the way and deflection of spell. Every dueller, uses a combination of dodging and deflection. So, first we would be working on your deflection.
"Deflection is the bread and butter of duelling. To deflect a spell, you simply bring your wand-tip on the path of the spell and strike it away from that place. It's as simple as that", said the defence professor shrugging.
"Well, except that we've got to connect our wand-tip at the very place where the spell is supposed to strike", said Harry dryly, causing her to shrug again.
"Well, that requires some getting used to", said Fawley. "Now I will fire stinging hexes at you and you would try and deflect them."
Harry took his stance, and before he knew it, he had yelped in pain. He hadn't even seen her cast, she was so fast.
"Pay attention", said Fawley simply.
And with that the onslaught of spells continued.
November brought in the first Quidditch game of the season. The Gryffindor versus Slytherin match brought the entire school in the Quidditch pitch. Slytherins were known for cheating in their games, and so nearly every non-Slytherin were supporting the Gryffindors. A seventh year, Alex Tinniman had been chosen as the new seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Had Lucius Malfoy not interrupted, in all probability, it would've been him in that position. The game started with the Slytherins doing fouls upon fouls, injuring the Gryffindor players, and instead gave lame excuses. No wonder why everyone hated that House. Most of the Slytherins, were decent enough, if not a little secluded. But Marcus Flint was one dirty player, and he chose the others in the Slytherin team, who were like him. At least that bastard was in his seventh year, and the next year he would be out for good. But then again, the person who would most likely take his place would be another git like him. And this would go on and on.
Suddenly the three-fourth of the crowd groaned in disappointment as Alex Tinniman was hit in the head with the beater's bat. Harry sighed, despite getting a penalty, the Slytherin goalkeeper had managed to block the quaffle and now the Gryffindor seeker had suffered a concussion. The match was already decided.
It was after two or so hours later, by which time the Slytherin seeker had missed the Golden Snitch several times, when he finally managed to catch it, ending the game with a 250-190 in favour of Slytherin.
As December approached, one morning the students of Hogwarts found the castle to be surrounded by snow. Harry's duelling sessions with Fawley were painful, and she hadn't been kidding when she said that she would be tough on him. The ratio of number of spells deflected or dodged by Harry and number of hits landed on him was rising, but the number was still too low for his liking. He could hardly tell when she was casting the spells, and while in that onslaught she had asked him to fire spells back at her, Harry didn't think he could ever land a hit. After the duelling sessions, she would heal the blisters which would form on his skin, with a wave of her wand, and they would discuss correct postures of casting a few spells and stuff.
One day while Harry was doing his Potions essay with Daphne and Tracey, he found Ron, Hermione, Fay and Neville dash towards him. Harry merely raised his eyebrow at them, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Madam Pince scowl at the four of them for running in the library.
"Harry…you remember that giant—" Harry cut across Ron by shushing him mid-sentence.
Harry took out his wand and muttered, "Muffliato."
"What was that?" asked Hermione narrowing her eyes.
"A spell to prevent eavesdropper from hearing our conversation", said Harry simply. It was a spell that Fawley had shown him.
Harry then proceeded to yell at the top of his lungs, "HEY GUYS! WHAT HAVE YOU COME HERE FOR?"
"Are you out of your mind?" whispered Daphne harshly.
"Harry!" hissed Hermione in panic, while the others winced knowing Madam Pince would come and kick them out of this place. But she never came, and the four of them looked around to see that no one gave any indication that Harry had been yelling seconds ago.
"That was wicked!" said Ron excitedly. "You've got to teach me that."
"We've got more important things to discuss!" hissed Hermione with narrowed eyes at Ron.
"Yesterday, we had taken a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong staircase, and got into the third-floor corridor", said Neville. "But Filch was there at the very same moment, and so we hid into a room so that we don't get into trouble."
"And then you ran into Fluffy?" asked Harry.
"Fluffy?" asked Daphne, Fay, Tracey and Hermione at the same time.
"That thing's name is Fluffy?" asked Hermione aghast.
"What exactly are you people talking about?" asked Tracey. "Is this some Gryffindor code language."
Harry rolled his eyes at Tracey. "In the forbidden third floor corridor there is a cerebus. Hagrid has named him Fluffy."
"A cerebus named Fluffy?" asked Tracey incredulously.
"But that's not the only thing", said Hermione. "The cerebus was guarding something. There was a trapdoor—"
"Yes, I'm quite aware of that, thank you very much Hermione", said Harry interrupting her. "And I really think we shouldn't stick our noses where it doesn't belong."
"You of all people are saying that?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline.
"Wait, wait, I think we are going a bit fast here", said Daphne. "So, there's a cerebus in the third floor and you people think it is guarding something. And Harry even knows what that thing is. How did you know what it is?" asked Daphne with narrowed eyes. "And how did you encounter this cerebus?"
"I just know what it is, all right? I can't say anything more", said Harry with finality in his tone. "And as for your second question, during one of our late night excursions, we were near the edge of the Forbidden Forest and Fluffy just happened to be there."
"Yeah, and it was gonna pound on us", said Ron dramatically, causing Neville to shudder in remembrance of the event. "We thought we were done for, but then Harry took his wand out. And for a moment we thought nothing happened, and we were dead. But then the next thing we know, the dog flew back from where it came, and got knocked out in the ground."
"What?!" exclaimed Tracey, but almost instinctively the six of them looked at Madam Pince, who, to their relief, was still busy dusting a few books. "Why did none of you tell me about all this? And what spell did you use which caused the cerebus to be knocked out cold?"
Daphne too, was narrowing her eyes at Harry.
"Because we were told to keep quiet about Fluffy being there and all", said Harry shrugging. "Now, can we please stop this discussion? Hermione, congratulations on your observation, but some matters are kept secret for a reason."
"Come on…why are you so tight lipped?" whined Tracey. "We are your best friends! We won't tell anyone!"
"Harry, I was the first friend you made in the Wizarding World", said Daphne in a quiet and solemn voice. "You promised we would stay friends whatever house we turn out to be in." Harry sighed wistfully. She was such a...Slytherin!
"Harry, remember all the late night exploring we did together?" asked Ron brightly.
"I helped you so many times with the History of Magic notes", reminded Hermione.
"Harry, we are god-brothers, remember?" put in Neville.
Harry scowled at them, causing the six of his friends to smile brightly at him.
Harry sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. "What do you know about Nicholas Flamel?" asked Harry finally.
All their faces showed was confusion. Hermione and Daphne had heard about the name somewhere, but they couldn't remember where.
"Well, he is a very famous alchemists, and best known for the creation of the Philosopher's Stone", said Harry causing Hermione and Daphne's eyes to grow wide.
"Philosopher's Stone?" asked Daphne. "The stone which can turn any metal to gold and provide a person with the elixir of life? Now that I remember, it is what has made the Flamels immortal, hasn't it?"
"Nicholas Flamel, the immortal alchemist, is six hundred and sixty five years old, while his wife Perenell Flamel is six hundred and fifty eight", recited Hermione. "You think it's the Philosopher's Stone, which that dog is guarding?"
Everyone's eyes were as wide as saucers.
"Well, Fluffy is the first line of defence", said Harry. "There are a few other obstacles which slow down the perpetrator, and buy the Headmaster some time to try and confront whoever it is."
"So, someone is trying to steal it!" said Hermione. "I mean why else would the Headmaster bring something like that to school?"
"Almost certainly someone is trying to steal it", said Harry. "However, if I were to guess, the stone there is a fake one. Dumbledore is just trying to catch the culprit."
"How are you certain that it's a fake?" asked Daphne.
"Dumbledore isn't an idiot to declare to a school full of teenagers—scratch that—overconfident, rebellious teenagers, that something is there in the third floor corridor, and that it is strictly forbidden!" said Harry, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And there are ways by which Dumbledore can guard the stone, that the perpetrator would go round and round around the stone and still not find it. Say the Fidelius charm. That's how my parents were protected before—well, Halloween." Harry took a deep breath and told them finally. "I think you guys should stop wasting your time over such matters."
Everyone was quiet for a while.
"Well, it does make sense", said Daphne. "But then shouldn't whoever is trying to steal it have come to the same conclusion too?"
"Well, yes", said Harry. "That is where my theories stop working. The person who is trying to steal it, is not a fool. To the contrary, he or she must have to have a knowledge about alchemy to try and extract the elixir of life. And alchemy ain't some easy stuff. Dumbledore teaches Alchemy personally to students who have scored an Outsatnding in Transfiguration, Charms and Potions in their N.E.W.T.s and recommended by their professors who teach those subjects. And it is only then that Dumbledore considers about teaching it to that student. They need to have some distinction in their record too, and it nowhere entails the grades which you achieve throughout your school life, but rather distinguished achievements in a said field. The last person to have studied Alchemy under Dumbledore had masteries in all the three subjects!"
"Well, I'm not applying for anything like that", muttered Ron.
"Anyhow, as I was saying, Dumbledore knows that too", continued Harry, "that the person has obviously reached to the conclusion that Dumbledore is up to something, because it seems as though he is giving the stone to the person on a platter."
"Well, it might also be possible that you're thinking too much and the stone is real", said Ron.
"Yeah, I bet, that's absolutely what's gonna happen, Weasley!" said Daphne sarcastically.
Ron's cheeks coloured, and he was about to retort, but Harry interrupted him. "Yes, that is a probability", said Harry. "Although, the probability is less", added Harry, on seeing Daphne's incredulous expression. "So, what are your Christmas plans?"
As it turned out everyone except Harry was going to their home to celebrate Christmas, and Ron's brother Charlie, who worked in Romania, would be visiting them for two days in their home. If Harry had to guess, he would be all alone in the Gryffindor tower.
The next day Malfoy wanted to rub on Harry's face that it was a pity he wasn't able to go home for Christmas, as he wasn't wanted there. Harry didn't care what that ponce thought of him, as he was at home. Harry had owl ordered for his friends' gifts, which would be delivered on 24th at night. On twentieth, most of the students had left Hogwarts and the only inhabitants of the Gryffindor tower were him and a seventh year girl named Jennifer Green. She had said that Hogwarts was beautiful during the Christmas, and that being her last year, she hadn't wanted to miss any time in the castle. Other than them, there were two seventh year Ravenclaws but no one from either the Hufflepuffs or Slytherins had stayed. The tables in the Great Hall had been removed for lunch, and instead there was a large round table for the teachers and the students who had stayed behind. Conversations had moved around the table with Dumbledore asking Jennifer (who was a muggleborn) about what her parents did, and sharing his thoughts about ten pin bowling. Harry had discussed with Dumbledore about muggle chocolates like Mars Bars, Snickers and Tobleron, which had caused Dumbledore's eyes to twinkle brightly, and for some reason the professors were glaring at him for mentioning chocolates.
After lunch, Harry was walking by the frozen Black Lake, and watched the sun reflect on the ice. Harry pitied those who hadn't stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas. The scene was breath taking here.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" asked a familiar voice, and Harry found Professor Fawley approach him.
"Yes, it is."
"So, you decided to stay here instead of going home?" asked Fawley peering at him.
"I am at home", said Harry. "And I'd rather not stay at my relatives' house. I'd have even preferred if I could stay at Hogwarts during my summer holidays."
Fawley didn't say anything for some time, and both just continued walking around the lake.
"You know, Harry, it is the difficulties in our lives that makes us stronger in the future", she said finally. There was a subject she wanted to approach, but he could see she was hesitating. "Harry, your wandless abilities, or to put it accurately, your greater control over magic, they didn't come just like that, did they? Harry…" for the first time since he had met Fawley, she was hesitating, as if thinking whether asking him was the best course of action. "Harry, did your relatives abuse you?"
Harry stiffened.
No one had asked him this question before, because subconsciously his magic took care that Harry's home life remained as inconspicuous as ever. But Fawley could guess. Could he trust her with this? He had always told himself that she was perhaps the only person who could understand him. But this was something he hadn't told anyone before. "Harry, did your relatives ever beat you?"
Harry felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Harry resolved himself. If anyone could understand…it would be her.
"My relatives don't…really like magic", said Harry in a soft tone. It was probably the biggest understatement. "Part of it is because of…well, you know what religion tells about us. And part of it is because... my uncle is not among the pleasant sort." All this while Harry was staring at the ground. He knew his eyes would betray his emotions. Harry suddenly felt anger swell inside him at the thought of his uncle. "My uncle loathes me. If something bad happens to him, or if he is in a bad mood, or getting drunk and all…well, I am a good thing he can use to let his frustration out. At first, when I did magic subconsciously he would…he wanted to beat the magic out of me." Harry took a shaky breath. His tears threatening to fall. "They told me my father was a drunk and my mum…mum was a whore." Harry was gritting his teeth, as tears now freely started falling. Fawley's grip on his shoulder tightened in a reassuring manner.
And Harry told her everything. Slowly. From the Cupboard under the stairs, to how most of the magic he did was for survival, the neighbours who hated him. He was sobbing by the end of it, Fawley hugging him tightly. He had not cried for a very long time. The last he had cried was when he had learnt from Mrs. Figg, when he was seven, that his parents had given their life for him. That they weren't what his relatives claimed them to be. That his parents had loved him.
Harry was relatively solemn that evening when time for dinner came, barely eating any food. The other teachers had noticed it, now that they sat on the same table, but chose not to comment. It was a Friday and so it meant he had his duelling lessons. Fawley had asked whether he wanted to skip it for today, but he had said he wanted to do the lesson.
"You did quite well today", said Fawley waving her hand, and two mugs of tea arrived, once their duelling session was over. "If the number of stinging hexes which landed on you are anything to go by."
"You'd said that you never got tutored in duelling by someone", said Harry. "So, how are you still so fast?"
"Well, by tutored I meant tutoring by some teacher or instructor", said Fawley. "There was this girl in her fifth year when I was a firstie, who of course got tutored on duelling...she helped me with it. I joined the International Duelling Circuit now and then after school, made friends around the world, made enemies. They made me a better dueller. And Hogwarts library has a lot of spells and magic which interested me, and quite like you, I never had any problem with spells and such. And of course, there was the book 'Duelling through Ages'. You learn a few things while going around the world, although I would like to believe, I had become an accomplished duellist, in my time at Hogwarts itself."
They fell into a comfortable silence as they both sipped on their tea.
"Talking with someone always helps", said Fawley finally. "It helped for me." She was grave, and there was a hint of anger in her eyes. "You know, why people prefer anything to orphanages? It was because it was hard to be there, especially for a girl. Some of the male staff that were there… they were paedophiles, and we knew that…the women who were in-charge... didn't give a damn, and well, I was a freak, wasn't I?" Never had he seen Fawley so angry before this, and he didn't know whether he had imagined it, but he though he saw a flash of red in her eyes. "You know, what religion says about us, that we serve the devil, and all that farce!" Fawley was nearly hissing her words out. "And then, after my third year, our orphanage couldn't accommodate us for an incident, so we were sent to a place in the countryside, and there we were staying in a house of a person…he tried to…" she took a deep breath. "I escaped, cursing the man, and taking my trunk and all…I'd taken the Knight Bus and arrived in Hogsmeade. I didn't know what to do, I had some money but it wouldn't last me, so I took up a job in the Hogs' Head, for lodging and food in return, the barman Aberforth probably gave it to me out of pity. Then the professor who had given me my Hogwarts letter had met me there, and asked what was wrong…that was the first time I opened up to someone. He arranged for me to stay in Hogsmeade during the summer, in the Hogs' Head itself."
Harry swallowed harshly. He didn't know what to say to her. Harry thought that his life had been tough, but now he could only imagine what she had been through. Had he been a girl, would Uncle Vernon have gone so far as to sexually molest him?
Fawley snorted sardonically, "Our lives have been fucked up, hasn't it?"
Harry was momentarily shocked to hear Fawley swear, but then again, Harry didn't care. It rather summed up everything accurately. "Yeah."
"I had a friend in my orphanage", said Fawley softly. "She was the only friend I had, and well…she said that the worst things in life come free to us."
Harry stayed quiet and instead sipped on his tea.
"Would you let me see, Harry?" asked Fawley after some time. "The place where your uncle…"
Harry knew what she was talking about. He found her looking intently at him, and in her eyes he saw a fierceness. Harry was touched that she actually seemed to care for him. He slowly nodded.
Pulling his jumper over his head, he slowly started to unbutton his oxford, and then kept it aside. Harry knew the welts from Uncle Vernon's belt had formed white scars from frequent beatings. He felt her trace her fingers across his scars. Her hand felt warm and soft on his scars.
"He beat you often", said Fawley. It was not a question, but a statement. "You don't deserve this. I'm…I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet and apologetic.
"It's not your fault", said Harry shrugging, putting his shirt back on. "And, he hasn't been hitting me since I revealed to them I know about magic, and the lies that they told me. And I might have also partially blackmailed him. They ignore me and I'm content with it."
Fawley's expression remained sombre.
"Well Harry, it's ten already", said Fawley after some time, looking at her watch. "You better get back to your common Room then."
Author's Notes:
A before schedule update because I felt like it.
I am not bashing on the Hufflepuffs! Remember that pretty much every non-Hufflepuff had a tendency to underestimate them and Harry does the same, because that's what people think. This issue will be rectified soon, when Harry makes friends with a Hufflepuff later in the story.
Harry knows a lot of stuff. How? He went overdrive with legilimency. Simple. The kid is curious and just entered a new world.
Fawley (or fem Voldemort, as I am pretty sure all of those reading have figured it out) said the orphanage couldn't accommodate after her third year. That is of course because of the Blitz which happened from 1940-41, but she didn't tell Harry so, because it's obvious that Fawley was somewhere around her mid twenties or late twenties in 1991. I have went from 30th September to 20th December in this chapter, which is a huge time jump. As you could make out from small instances in the stories that even before Halloween, Harry and Fawley met up a few times. The student teacher relationship which they have is similar to cannon Harry's with Remus Lupin. I liked the depiction of their relationship in the films, more so than I did in the books, and that is a very rare occurrence in my case. Add in to that, the similarities in the lives of Harry and not-really-Fawley.
Anyways, Frank Longbottom joined the aurors in 1967. And, I expect you've already seen the differences from the cannon. Everyone here also calls Voldemort as 'Voldemort' or the 'Dark Lady' and not 'You-Know-Who' or 'She-who-must-not-be-named'. And Greyback is dead.
Next. I don't like it when people add excessive amount of sugar to their tea, as it spoils the flavour of the tea. If you want it so sweet...why not try some syrup? And I'm a tea person through and through. Harry and Fawley both share that. And yes, Dumbledore smokes! He smokes a pipe (not a long twisted pipe like Gandalf mid you!)
And next thing which I want to address is, I've read some fanfictions, where people claim that Dumbledore uses legilimency when his eyes twinkle. That's some bullshit if I've seen one. 'Twinkling of his eyes' is a way of expressing his amusement and cheery persona, like when we say 'his face turned a brilliant shade of red' for someone who is blushing or embarrassed. Give the old man a break! And you might consider legilimency to be rude, not many people know of it in the Wizarding World, and even if they do, they don't go screaming, "I'll see you in court!" and stuff, like some other fanfictions. Do you see Charles Xavier's mutants screaming that, seeing as that man is a telepath? And then there are some where an eleven year old girl knows Occlumency! Yes, Daphne isn't the typical Ice Queen yet, but she would be when the time comes. Harry's Occlumency and Legilimency are natural talents like being a Metamorphagus, and Harry's had it a lot hard than some wealthy pureblood child.
I am not criticizing others' works, but I am explaining that my story isn't like one of those stereotypical fanfictions, and this is how my universe is. So, don't go complaining. Part of my reason for writing this story was to get a break from all the other stereotypes, and as the story would progress, you would notice how differently it goes. This would be a long story, and I don't know how much I can write beyond the eleventh or twelfth chapters as my days would get a lot hectic, and I'll probably go on a hiatus, or my updates would become monthly or sporadic. But I have every intentions of continuing this.
And you have no idea how much you guys' support means to me.