The Mist of Memory
6:32 a.m., December 20
"Who's a good girl, Hedwig? Who's a good girl?" Harry coo'd at his recently named owl. He was ashamed it took so long to give her one, but given how she alerted him to Nott's attack and how the passcode Hedwig alerted him to Terence's, no name fit better.
Hedwig the White hooted with approval for the mouse Harry delivered to her mouth. Many young wizards fed their owls and other pets the standard nourishments provided by elves. But Harry felt a proper owner should respect his pet's natural diet. And if that meant he had to catch the mice himself, so be it. Though he now had invaluable help.
"Halogi caught this mouse for you, so you should thank him," Harry referred to the king cobra wrapped about his shoulders and waist while still keeping over half of his body on the ground. All the better for Harry, as the four-foot-eight preteen wasn't sure he could properly bear Halogi the Black's size and weight.
Hedwig gave a light hoot of appreciation to Halogi. Halogi gave approving pheromones in return.
Smiling at his companions' interaction, Harry set to his task of wrapping the black dragon-scale wand holster he ordered for Draco in golden Victorian wrapping paper. The holster's protective runes would project a light shield about Draco's body at all times with a very minimal cost of magic. Additionally, Draco could use the holster as a focal point for stronger shields when in a duel, and the holster itself would adapt its defensive magic as it interacted with more spells. But most importantly, the holster would act as a magnet for Draco's wand — whether the weapon lay within or without it.
Yes, Harry parted with more than a few galleons to buy the gift. But what better way to leave behind the shackles of the muggle grinches than to indulge his best Slytherin friend?
Upon tying the present with a lace and bow, Harry rewarded himself by heading off for an early breakfast after saying his goodbyes to Hedwig and Halogi.
"Slither sssafely," Harry cautioned the snake as they parted ways. He didn't know what the professors would do if they ran across a twenty-foot king cobra.
"There are many sanctuariessss from two-legsss," Halogi assured as he slithered into the shadows.
Entering the Great Hall at 6:56 a.m., Harry expected to be the first arrival for the Saturday breakfast. He was pleasantly surprised to see Cassius at the Quidditch end of the Slytherin table.
"Natural clock got you up?" Harry asked the chaser as he sat across from him.
"That, and I'm waiting for my gift to show up," Cassius divulged with a hint of worry.
"Ooof," Harry sympathized. While his gift for Draco had arrived that day as well, he specifically set the arrival date for the day of the gift exchange so he wouldn't have to hide it. Customizations and all, it had been ready for two weeks. "Well, Adrian won't give you too hard a time if…"
"It will show," Cassius insisted with finality. "Anyhow, you got yours for Draco?"
"Yup," Harry motioned toward his wrapped package. "Even has a gold-engraved D M on it."
"You've gone all out," Cassius noted. His eyes then flitted behind Harry as if to see if anyone from the other tables was watching or approaching them.
"Listen," Cassius suddenly said in a somber voice. "I found out who's giving you your gift — and you might want to brace yourself."
"Most of my yearmates don't like me," Harry shrugged. "It's…"
"It's Nott," Cassius informed. "And from what I hear, he's planning on making a spectacle when he gives it to you."
"The prefects gave me to Nott?" Harry grumbled. "Do you think he'll attack me in some way with the gift?"
"He wouldn't risk crossing wands with Marcus and all the team," Cassius disagreed. "He'll likely try to sabotage your standing in the house. Do you have any skeletons in your closet?"
I'm a muggle-raised Gaunt descendant, came instantly to Harry's mind. But he didn't see how that could be used against him in Slytherin.
Even if Nott found a way to prove he was trapped by muggles for a decade, Harry had shown his power from day one. If anything, Harry would turn back a "muggle-raised" insult on Nott for losing to him on their first night. And if Nott discovered his Gaunt secret, Harry was sure he'd already know. Not to mention, while that revelation would be devastating in general, Harry could make it work in Slytherin. A snake hiss or two, and the housemates who resented him for "wrecking" the wizard cause would begin kissing his arse.
"I don't know what he'll try…but I'll handle it," Harry answered. "Besides, I've got you, right?"
"Sure thing kiddo," Cassius affirmed.
"Anyway, you ready to go home, mama's boy?" Harry teased. He was rewarded with a stinging jinx to the belly that nearly made him choke on his bite of bacon-cheddar waffle.
"Yes, my mother awaits the carrier of her family name," Cassius declared dramatically.
"Well, if she passed the Warrington name to you, who says your big sis can't pass it on?" Harry challenged. "Okay, okay!" he raised his hands in surrender when Cassius gave a look suggesting he'd aim a little lower with his next jinx.
"Can I expect to find Slytherin in one piece after leaving it all to you?" Cassius asked drily.
"Not like I can get in anyone's room besides mine," Harry shrugged. Lie. I can snake-speak my way into every room, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.
"If you say so," Cassius responded with half-belief. "Just remember to put your wand away if you help yourself to booze."
"Which one?" Harry asked with an eyebrow waggle. "OWW!" he squealed as an electric jinx zapped the more precious one.
"And spend less time with that Gryffindor cousin of yours," Cassius added with an eye-roll. "Preferably, none at all."
"Tryna ban me from the Yule Quidditch party?" Harry whined.
"I wish," Cassius grunted.
"Finally!" Cassius exclaimed two hours later when an owl flew to the end of the Slytherin table with a wrapped package. Adrian, having a front-row seat to his gift's time-of-arrival, laughed heartily. The laughter quickly spread to Graham, Lucian, Kevin, Miles and Harry.
"What you laughing at kid? Your gift came in today too," Cassius scolded.
"'Twas different…OW!" Harry yelped as a stinging jinx attacked his belly button.
"Cassie's abusing me!" Harry whined, which naturally caused the laughter to multiply.
"Cassie!" Graham uproariously mocked his best friend. "Cassie the Lassie."
Harry high-fived Graham, though not without wringing his hand after from how hard the brown-eyed beater clapped. Not to mention the "back-pat" Lucian followed with stung about as much as Cassius' jinx.
"Laugh it up Romeo," Cassius retorted. "And someone clean that rat nest Pothead calls hair."
Graham and Lucian simultaneously rubbed their knuckles against Harry's hair from his left and right, which caused Harry to snort out a gulp of chocolate milk through his nose to the ever-increasing amusement of the team.
"Err-emm," came the throat-clear of their captain. All six team members plus Kevin instantly quit horsing around and sat up straight.
"Firstie, come with me," Marcus ordered Harry. Miles' "ooo" was abruptly silenced by a simple side-eye from the captain as Harry got up and did as he was told.
Not that he was worried as he walked out of the Great Hall, gift package in hand. In fact, Harry walked slightly behind Marcus to hide the proud smile threatening to spread across his face. Interestingly, Marcus insisted on leading Harry all the way to the Corvinus arena entrance. But Harry contained his growing impatience so as not to ruin the moment.
So it came as a surprise when Marcus shoved Harry against a wall the moment they passed through the snake-wall entrance.
"You idiot!" Marcus growled. "And just when I thought you were halfway smart."
Harry's eyes widened in shock.
"Oh, you thought I brought you here to praise you?" Marcus mocked. "Take one guess what the first thing Terence said to me was?"
"I quit?" Harry tried.
"Harry Potter is You-Know-Who's son!" Marcus corrected with a glower.
"Shocked?" Marcus sneered at the flabbergasted Harry. "You realize that's what most will figure the second you start hissing, right? The Dark Lord called himself the Heir of Slytherin. Not an heir, the heir. The simplest and most likely conclusion is that you're his son."
"But…" Harry started while gesturing at his scar.
"Your family is known for its…disputes," Marcus interjected. "In fact, many would say that scar's more proof you're his son, not less. You're the one person he knew might beat him."
Harry spent the next few seconds stammering unintelligibly. Marcus then leaned in.
"Mr. Gaunt, listen to me carefully," Marcus commanded. "You are very, very lucky I was the first person to walk out of the house. You are even luckier that Higgs spilled his beans to me, thinking I would side with him. And you should thank magic itself that I sit in the serpent seat, or all of Slytherin and half the school would know who you are by now."
"Would Terence have run his mouth?" Harry questioned even in the face of Marcus' fury. "He'd be dunked on by the house for being on the wrong side of a Gaunt."
"A Gaunt who'd be hiding from the rest of the school," Marcus countered. "The Slytherins sympathetic to your predecessor's cause would jump at the chance to embarrass Dumbledore's suck-ups by shouting out your identity."
"So…that won't happen?" Harry asked hopefully. The captain frowned.
"Higgs knows I'll catch on quickly to any rumors he spreads in Slytherin," Marcus stated. "But he has connections outside of the house. The most dangerous one to you is his father Bertie's friendship with Tiberius…"
"McLaggen," Harry finished. But this show of knowledge made Marcus go white with anger.
"You knew?" Marcus bellowed after composing himself for several seconds.
"Well…um…Cormac is…" Harry stuttered.
"A McLaggen," Marcus growled. "A family stuck in the shadows of the Potters! So just what, just what, do you think will happen when they learn how to discredit the Potters once and for all?"
"Um…" Harry mumbled.
"And then, we get to how many of your legacy-family friends would follow," Marcus ranted. "Your precious Weasley would turn on you overnight! So would that Longbottom oaf you've taken a liking to! Goldstein and Boot would abandon you, and the list goes on. In fact, your only bet outside Slytherin would be that Macmillan boy — then again, that one's a puff!"
"I messed up," Harry realized dejectedly.
"Look, I know you're powerful, that you've got the blood of Herpo, Salazar, Merwyn, Koschei, Ekrizdis, Raczidian and perhaps the Dark Lord himself in your veins," Marcus said in a much softer voice. "Heck, you might become more powerful than any of them. But, and I'm only trying to help you by saying this, power isn't everything. You're the last of your line, and you have to be very, very careful going forward. Understand."
"I understand," Harry repeated solemnly.
"Two final things," Marcus wrapped up the conversation. "Nott's gift will unsettle you. No two ways about it. But whether you see his present as a boon or bane is entirely up to you."
"Any chance you can tell me what it is?" Harry half-heartedly asked.
"Some things are better to see for yourself, and I really mean that," Marcus non-answered. "But know that I'm on your side." When Harry nodded, the captain turned to leave.
"There was one other thing?" Harry wondered.
"Right," Marcus acknowledged. "You're the starting seeker. Congratulations."
9:55 a.m.
"You're tense," Draco whispered as they sat next to each other on the same couch as second years Niall and Fergus.
With 14 multi-person couches arranged into two parallel rows, members of each year generally sat across from each other — as would make sense for the gift exchange. Yet in Harry and Draco's case, the only yearmmate seated across from them was Pansy, as the rest of their classmates sat on the next couches over — the two farthest from the fireplace.
Closest to the fireplace, beyond the seventh-year couches, lay seven individual couches. The six prefects sat on exquisite chairs that formed a semi-circle around the incumbent of the coveted golden-snakeskin chair. For Slytherin's true leader was not handpicked by the administration, but rose through the years till he became the central social force of the House. Became the "Chair" of Slytherin, as had been the way of the House for centuries.
Such a tradition made for two types of Slytherins — those in "the group," and those not. Most Slytherins took years for their network of friends to reach a member of the group, and they would still have to sufficiently impress the Chair to become a member themselves.
But in unique cases such as Harry Potter's, a member of the group might introduce a first year to the Chair on their first school day. And if said first year impressed the Chair enough to receive "the tell" as early as November — such as when Harry got permission to use Marcus' given name — jealousy would hound him for months or even years to come.
Fortunately Harry didn't have to worry about Draco, as the Malfoy's personal connection with Marcus inducted him into the group before he set foot in Hogwarts. But every Slytherin not part of the group, and even some who were, would scrutinize Harry's reaction to whatever Nott had prepared. And if Harry faltered, he would face a roomful of ridicule.
So yes, Harry was a little tense.
Draco massaged Harry's shoulders briefly, just enough to help loosen his muscles without embarrassing him in front of watching eyes.
At 10 o'clock sharp, the seven leaders began with some words on the history and meaning of the Yule holiday, the traditional celebration of the winter solstice. Then the gift giving began. Each year's prefects exchanged gifts with each other — Gemma and Aloysius, Rachel and Peter, Concordia and Terence. After that came the coveted and central gift exchange — the chair's exchange with one Slytherin of their choosing.
"Dang," Harry whispered to himself when Graham proved to be the lucky one — and the newest owner of a Nimbus 2000. While it had been obvious that the "Chair's chosen" would be a member of the team, it was difficult to guess since exchanging a gift with the Chair did not exempt one from exchanging a gift with a yearmmate.
When Harry locked eyes with Cassius, the third-year made a "pay-up" motion with his hand. In Harry's defense, it had been hard to trust Cassius' claim that it would be Graham.
The gift exchanges then went down the row from the seventh-year couches toward Harry. Before Harry knew it, it was his turn to give a gift.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry stated after standing up. "I want to thank you for being one of the best friends I have ever had, and for your constant company in these past months. It has been a great gift getting to know you, one of the greatest I've had. So, I want to give you this as a symbol of my thanks. I hope it helps you these next six-and-a-half years and beyond."
Draco seemed shocked by Harry's words. To be fair, so was Harry — but he meant every word that he said. And Harry did his best to show that when Draco searched his eyes.
"Thank you," Draco breathed out when he opened the gift. Whether he was more impressed by Harry's declaration or the holster itself remained unclear, but either felt Harry with a happiness he had never quite experienced before. One that had nothing to do with the looks of surprise and admiration his fellow Slytherins directed at his gift for Draco.
Maybe there's something to the "spirit of giving" after all, Harry considered.
Draco gave his gift next, with Blaise as the recipient. Blaise gave a gift to Millicent, who gave a gift to Gregory, who gave a gift to Vincent, who gave a gift to Daphne, who gave a gift to Pansy…who gave a gift to Nott.
A silence set over the Slytherins as it became crystal clear who the recipient of Nott's gift would be. To his credit, the stormy-eyed boy showed no expression on his face as he stood from his end of the couch and walked over to Harry with a rectangular-shaped present wrapped in navy-blue cloth.
"Harry Potter," he began an even tone of voice. "I will not pretend to like you. But I think this is the most important gift you will ever get. Open it — if you dare."
Nott added a very small smirk with his challenge, a sure fire way to get Harry to open the present in front of everyone.
"Hit me," Harry said after breathing in and out once. Nott handed him the gift, which turned out to be a beautiful box made of cream-white wood. Holly, Harry instantly recognized from the original wood his phoenix feather had been bonded to.
"It's beautiful," Harry told Nott with a smile.
"The gift is in the box," the pale boy informed drily, though he clearly knew Harry was just being difficult.
Taking one final breath in and out, Harry opened the box — only to find a clear glass orb filled with white mist.
"A Remembrall?" Harry observed with surprise. According to Marcus, this gift was supposed to unsettle him. But Harry would be the first to admit he did not possess a perfect memory.
"A bit more than that," Nott stated. "You might want to try it."
What's the worst that can happen? I relive my bad memories or something? Harry theorized before clasping onto the orb.
Nothing that he feared or even considered occurred as the orb sat in his palm. All Harry saw was the white mist turn…ink black?
"Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha!" Aloysius laughed from the prefects' end. Rachel and Concordia quickly joined in, at which point laughter spread throughout the couches like wildfire. Within fifteen seconds, Harry could much more easily count who wasn't laughing than who was.
"Confused?" Nott questioned with a smirk. "Unsurprising, given that," he said with a point toward the Remembrall. "In fact, I'm impressed you can form any coherent thoughts given the state of your…mind."
The volume of mocking laughter doubled with Nott's remarks and doubled again with Harry's clear confusion.
"You've been obliviated," Draco, one of the few Slytherins not laughing, explained. "More than once."
"I'd say a lot more than once," Niall snorted as he barely restrained his sniggers. He gave Harry a half-apologetic look when their eyes met, which unfortunately was one of the kindest responses in the room.
"You grew up with muggles, yes?" Nott suddenly asked. He put up a hand when Harry opened his mouth to deny it. "My point isn't that you were raised as a mudblood, though your cluelessness about basic facts like the place of elves exposed you. My point is that despite being denied training and tutelage, you clearly had a wizard closely watching you. Controlling you. Making a constant puppet of you."
Nott didn't have to name the wizard he was accusing.
"This ball…can it restore my memories?" Harry asked with a strand of hope.
Nott laughed sharply for the first time of the day, which presaged howls of laughter from everyone besides Draco, Pansy, Kevin and the team.
"Merlin himself couldn't restore your mind from that," Nott sneered. "What the Discernment Sphere can do is expose what memories have magically induced gaps — or are fake entirely. Which, seeing how black the sphere is, might just be half your life."
Harry barely kept a straight face under the increasing intensity of the laughter. Nott managed a straight face as well, but his eyes danced with delight at Harry's plight. Only Draco's pinch reminded Harry to respond — respond with the customary appreciation.
"Well N-Theodore, thank you for your gift. It's…illuminating," Harry thanked Nott.
A deafening chorus of laughter consumed the room.
2:47 p.m.
"You really should try the reception…even if just for a few minutes," Draco tried again as he walked back into their room. "It's the best Hogwarts celebration you'll see all year."
"No," Harry rejected again from within his bed curtains.
"What Nott did was underhanded," Draco agreed. "But do you really want to let him win?"
"He won," Harry returned listlessly. "Leave me alone." He then rolled over to bury his face in his pillows.
"You can't mean that," Draco replied as his voice drew closer — possibly just outside Harry's curtains.
"Go away," Harry whispered. Mercifully, silence set in after that. Once he became sure he was alone once more, Harry let out the choked sob he had been holding in.
"No," Draco said softly. Before Harry could do anything about it, Draco opened the curtains and sat next to the crying Harry.
"Said I'd nevah cry 'gain," Harry whispered as Draco closed the curtains. "Said that after that muggle's last beating."
"Beating?" Draco gasped. "Those muggles beat you?"
"Ev'ry week," Harry confirmed. "Ev'ry week to that stupid letter."
"Heal quick," Harry answered what he thought would be Draco's next question. The few times he'd tried to say the muggles beat him, he'd be interrogated on why he didn't have scars. "Take it or leave."
"Harry," Draco breathed out.
"Hated that place," Harry continued. "Hated ev'ry second in that stupid cupboard, slaving for that red-faced pit bull, his ugly bitch wife and their pig son. Hated them. Wanted leave! But ev'ry time I wanted tah, ev'ry time I planned, next thing I 'member is sitting in tha house, told it's the only home I'll have. That I'd be killed on tha streets. That ev'ryone'd hate me. That I couldn't leave. So I'd say sorry and stay. Say thank you for home."
"LIES!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to flinch. "I 'MEMBER LIES! I HATE THEM!"
"Hate who?" Draco asked.
"Hate muggles! Hate Dursleys! Hate filthy Figg! Hate filthy Filch! Hate moth'r for leavin' me with her filthy family! Hate Voldie for leavin' me with Dumb-as-a-door! Hate Grindie for losin' to a muggle lovah!" Harry ranted. But he wasn't finished. "Hate Salazar for stupid snakes! Hate Gaunts for stupid pow'rs! Hate House! Hate Hogwarts! Hate magic!"
"Hate me!" Harry wailed as he wept into Draco's chest. "Ev'ryone hates me. I hate me. You'll hate me."
"I don't hate you," Draco whispered as he held Harry. "I don't hate you. I'll never hate you."
"Wish…Voldie…killed me," Harry choked out before devolving into a sobbing fit. Draco hugged him tightly and silently as he shook with self hate. Eventually, whether it took a minute or an hour, Harry's eyes ran dry and he grew light-headed. Sensing Harry's exhaustion, Draco gently lay him down on the bed.
"I'm glad you lived," Draco whispered to the whimpering Harry. "If he killed you, I'd never have met you. Never met the only friend I've truly had."
"Made mess," Harry nodded at Draco's chest.
"I'll survive…just this once," Draco proclaimed airily, causing Harry to snort.
"Look better," Harry said cheekily.
"That's it Pottah," Draco declared as he grabbed Harry by the sides and began tickling. Harry couldn't repress his snorts for long, which soon became laughter.
"Ric…rictumsempra," Harry shouted as he began tickling Draco himself. His wandless proficiency with the jinx did not compare to Ron's, but it exceeded what he could manage with just physical scratching.
"Th-think I c-can't do that too, P-Pottah?" Draco laughed. "Rictumsempra!"
Harry proved no match for Draco. But for once, defeat did nothing but fill him with pure delight.
"Tired," Harry whispered after their "battle" concluded.
"Tired too," Draco agreed. Soon enough, the two boys fell fast asleep.
It would take years for Harry to admit, but cuddling with Draco after pouring his heart out to the blond made him feel more safe and secure than he ever had. Even more so than Professor Quirrell's embrace on Halloween, if only slightly.