A/N: Hello! I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter- October just turned out to be a super busy month for me life-wise (which didn't leave me a lot of time for writing). But have no fear- another chapter is here! I know it feels like an empty promise to say that 'I swear I will not abandon this story', but perhaps I can at least give you some comfort in knowing that the plot has basically been planned out since the beginning and it is just a matter of me finding the time to actually write it all out with all the fun details. I don't like to give guesses or make promises in the story itself about when I will update because I don't wanna lie to people, but if you're ever anxious or curious, feel free to PM me and I can likely give you at least a rough estimate for when the next update may be (and I'm generally pretty good about responding to messages). Now, one with the story! Fair warning- she is an angsty chapter.
Warning(s): violence, descriptions of illness and injuries/blood, mentions of child neglect/abuse, death (no major characters)
Chapter 14 - Inner Truths
Harry received a very rude awakening on Sunday. He was jolted out of his potion-induced sleep by a torrent of freezing water. It was like a wave crashing over him, soaking his pajamas and flooding his bed. He jerked upright, spluttering, just in time for something hard to hit him in the head. Whatever had struck him then clattered to the floor with a metallic clang. The commotion was enough to rouse his nearby sleeping teammates as well.
"What the hell?" Came James' sleepy voice from the next bed over.
"What is going on in here?!" Madam Pomfrey's irritated voice cut through the room.
And Harry had no bloody idea. All he knew was that he was wet and freezing and not having a good time. It even took him a few moments to remember just where exactly he was. Harry fumbled with numb fingers for his glasses which he prayed were somewhere on the table beside his bed. Eventually, he found them. Placing them onto his still dripping face, Harry looked up to see a slightly shocked looking Madam Pomfrey standing in front of his bed.
She rounded on James. "Now, really, Mr. Potter- there are no pranks in my hospital wing! Particularly not on your fellow patients and friends. I would think you might have more sense than that," she scolded.
"What? I didn't do it!" James spluttered indignantly.
As the two argued back and forth, Harry's eyes wandered, as he was still trying to fully process what had happened, and they landed on the item that had hit him in the head when he'd sat up. It was an old, metal bucket.
"Madam Pomfrey-" Harry interjected through slightly chattering teeth, gaining the ruffled matron's attention. "I don't think it was James." His eyes swept around the hospital wing before settling on the only other occupant besides Harry and his friends. Regulus appeared to still be sleeping soundly in the back corner, but Harry wasn't fooled. The phrase 'drown you in a bucket out back' echoing in his head as he brought a hand up to rub at the sore spot left by said bucket.
Pomfrey seemed to get what he was implying and she stalked down the row of beds. The Gryffindors watched on as Regulus pretended to wake up and look at the matron sleepily while she laid into him with a few choice words before confiscating his wand and coming back over to Harry and his friends. For the sake of due diligence, she confiscated their wands as well. The last thing she needed was retaliation and an all-out war in her infirmary. Pomfrey finally spelled Harry and his bed dry, casting a warming charm on him for good measure when she noticed that he was still slightly shaking from the cold. Seeing that Harry was rubbing his head, Pomfrey pulled his arm away and took a look. Thankfully, it was just a bruise which Pomfrey was able to take care of pretty quickly. While she tended to prefer to keep an eye on her patients for an extra observation period before they were released, seeing the wary and heated looks the Gryffindors were casting towards Regulus, Pomfrey opted to make quick work of giving the three of them a final checkup before letting them leave to go have breakfast with the rest of the school.
Harry quite enjoyed watching James struggle with fork at breakfast- his right arm stuck in a sling while his shoulder finished healing.
"Not so easy, is it?" Harry asked smugly, twirling his own fork around just to rub it in.
"Show off," James huffed, glaring at Harry before returning to his valiant effort to eat.
The rest of Sunday was spent lazily in the dorms. Sirius, James, and Harry decided to teach Remus and Peter One-Armed Ketchum, which turned out to be even more of a mess with more people. But it was fun all the same. They spent the morning playing games and the afternoon catching up on homework.
That evening, after dinner, Sirius excitedly dragged everyone back up to the dormitory. He closed the door firmly behind the last person to enter, turning around with a dramatic swish of his cloak. "It's time," he declared.
"Uhh- for what?" Harry asked hesitantly- though he seemed to be the only one to not understand what Sirius was talking about.
"To officially christen the new term, young Harry," Sirius said regally.
Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed, "You don't even know if you're older than I am!" Sirius looked Harry up and down with a raised eyebrow. "If you could tell just by looking, then half the underclassmen would be 'older' than me too," Harry pointed out testily.
"Well, when's your birthday, then? All of ours are in March," Sirius said confidently. Assuming that it hadn't already passed and Harry just failed to mention it, he was left with a pretty narrow window to be properly older.
"July," Harry huffed, irritated. Sirius really didn't need any more motivation on the 'treating Harry like a child' front.
With a satisfied smirk, Sirius continued, "As I was saying, young Harry- now that everyone has had a chance to settle in, it is time to once again do what we do best."
Sirius flung his arm out, reaching a hand towards James, who was just straightening up from where he'd been rummaging around in his trunk. From behind his back, James produced a brown leather book, handing it over to Sirius.
"A reading from Prong's diary, then?" Harry asked, sounding unimpressed, causing Remus and Peter to snicker.
"It's not a diary!" James said in an almost whiney voice, stamping his foot like a small child.
"Of course it's not," Sirius told him in a patronizing tone.
Remus tried to actually clarify, "It really isn't a diary, Harry-"
"Oh, I know very well what it is," Harry assured Remus. "James practically mauled Sirius over it during the break."
"Bambi here actually contributed a few rather devious ideas to our brainstorming section," Sirius told Remus and Peter. He began thumbing through the worn pages, "But I don't think we should start off with 'devious'- not right now. We need something to lift the people's spirits- something fun for the whole family. Good vibes, you know?"
James took on a thoughtful expression before suggesting, "How about operation Groovy Threads?"
A smile spread across Sirius' face. "Perfect."
That night was the first time Harry was actually invited to join the guys out after curfew. They even showed him the Marauder's Map, which felt like kind of a big moment. Unlike their animagus and werewolf secrets, which Harry had accidentally invited himself into the loop on, this was something that they chose to tell him about. It demonstrated a certain level of trust that just gave Harry a warm feeling inside.
So they all crept down to the Entrance Hall around 3 am for some clandestine activities. Harry actually took point on the spellwork itself, since it was heavily charms-based and James was helping him out with the little bit of complex transfiguration required. Remus and Sirius were standing lookout and Peter was their sacrificial guinea pig to make sure everything was working as expected. They all fought to contain their laughter as they snuck back up to Gryffindor tower through the abandoned castle. Harry was used to alway sneaking around under his invisibility cloak when he was out after hours, but there was something much more exhilarating about being properly exposed. Even with the map, there was an edge of mild danger to the escapade- especially now that there were aurors skulking around in addition to the professors and Filch. Harry could only imagine the field day Auror Monroe would have if he caught them out of bounds like this. But they made it back up to the dormitory without incident and even managed to catch a few more hours of sleep before having to get ready for class.
That morning was the first time all year that not a single one of Harry's dormmates needed to be dragged out of bed. Sirius was bouncing around the room, impatiently waiting for everyone to get ready- he didn't want to miss a second of the main event. And his pranking outlet had been stifled most of the year so far with everything else that had been happening, so Sirius was damn near ready to explode.
"You're gonna get us caught, looking like that," Peter pointed out. "Plausible deniability is the name of the game, my friend."
Harry and James had both been sure to cast a handful of innocent spells that morning in order to erase any evidence of the prank from their wands, just in case someone did decide to question them. Harry was pretty sure that aside from the use of legilimency or truth serum, there was no way that anyone would actually be able to prove that they'd done it. Unless one of them confessed, he guessed, but Harry had a feeling that their merry group of troublemakers would never have made it this far if they couldn't all keep their mouths shut. And Harry was no rat.
With everyone ready, they headed down to breakfast a little earlier than usual. There weren't a ton of people in the Great Hall yet, but the few that were there were sure making a lot of noise. Ruckus laughter rang through the Entrance Hall as the boys descended the stairs, causing them all to grin. They paused, just outside of the Great Hall, appreciating their handiwork from afar. They all knew that the prank would affect anyone who went through the doorway, but subjecting themselves to it was all a part of the fun. So, with one last exchange of suppressed smiles, Harry and his friends walked into the hall. Immediately, they all burst out laughing, taking in the state of one another.
As they'd crossed the threshold, their robes had all turned from the standard Hogwarts black to the most violently offensive colors their eyes had ever had the misfortune of seeing, splashed with garish patterns to boot. Remus' had turned a solid hot pink while James' had taken on a tie-dye of every shade of green under the sun. Peter's looked like a patchwork of purple and neon yellow and Sirius' robes looked like a Jackson Pollock painting- crisp white splattered with every color in the rainbow. Harry's own robes were covered in black and white zigzag stripes the whole way down. Looking around the hall, they could see that every other student sitting at the tables was sporting similarly affected attire. There was one girl over at the Ravenclaw table that resembled one of those human statues, now decked out in entirely silver garb. One of the Hufflepuff boys looked like a giant strawberry. Oh, it was all very good.
They had even made sure to charm the staff entrance just the same, so the professors weren't exempt from the treatment either. A thin-lipped McGonagall was concentrating hard on her plate, wearing robes of a vibrant, traffic cone orange with spirals of dark blue adoring them. Beside her was Flitwick, whose clothes were beachy tan with large streaks of aqua swiped across them. Dumbledore, however, didn't look a smidge different from normal, sitting up at the head table in robes of gaudy chartreuse with burnt orange polka dots. He beamed down at their group as they made their way over to the Gryffindor table. They took up seats right near the door, all sitting along one side for the best viewing angle, leaned back, and watched.
Over the next hour, the hall continued to fill, each student being momentarially shocked as they entered and then either laughing happily or taking on an offended expression at their new attire. The girls had since joined them, all sporting stellar new looks. Lily's robes had taken on a shimmery gold color with horizontal red stripes- she looked like a Gryffindor bumble bee. Gretta's were such a dark blue that they were almost black again save for the starbursts of yellow and pink dotted around them. Milli's appeared to be pinstriped with every color under the sun, making her a little hard to look at and Haleigh's had turned brown and taken on a kind of wood grain pattern. Harry was rather proud of his charmswork as he looked around the hall.
But, due to Sirius' insistence, there was one more element to the prank. It took a little longer for people to notice, but soon you could hear whispers running around the hall as students pointed over towards the Slytherin table. Everyone there had been subjected to that same wardrobe change as the rest, but they all got a little something extra as well. Adoring the back of their newly stylized robes were pieces of parchment. Each one said something different, ranging from the commonplace 'kick me', to the slightly more targeted 'slimy snake', to the borderline uncalled for 'Death Eater wannabe'. Though, much to Harry's delight, he noticed that Avery's sign said, 'I'm with Stupid' and Mulciber's said, 'I'm Stupid'. And they were all affixed with a permanent sticking charm, so it was going to be quite the task for the Slytherins to get them off.
The Color Changing charm on people's robes, though, should wear off in a couple of hours. And since the crazily colored robes weren't actually hurting anything, the staff decided to just let it be. Undoing the charm on everyone would take hours, so it simply wasn't worth the effort. However, judging by McGonagall's face later that morning in Transfiguration, their prank wasn't quite as victimless as they'd anticipated (not counting the Slytherins). The poor professor could hardly stand the sight of her class.
Everyone was in high spirits for the rest of Monday and Harry decided to embrace the good mood and hang out in the common room. After gathering his stuff from the dormitory, Harry came back down the stairs and searched the collection of tables and couches for his friends. He spotted Remus working at one of the back study tables and headed over.
"Mind if I join you?" Harry asked, already setting down his bag, knowing what the other boy's answer would be.
Remus looked up and smiled. "Of course not," he said as Harry sat down and rummaged around in his bag.
A moment later, he pulled out a deck of cards. Remus caught what Harry was doing out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help the small smile that quirked his lips, but he didn't say anything. About ten minutes later, Peter, James, and Sirius joined the two of them, having finished making their social rounds in the common room. Harry and Remus greeted them before refocusing on their tasks, but Remus made sure to keep one eye on his friends. It proved to be a good decision as he saw the confused looks cross their faces as they watched Harry work. As he saw Sirius open his mouth, mostly likely to make an unhelpful comment, Remus sharply stepped on his foot under the table, earning himself a scowl, but effectively shutting Sirius up.
The exchange drew the others' attention as well and Remus subtly cast a glance towards Harry before mouthing the word 'exercises' and giving the fingers of his own right hand a little wiggle. Unfortunately, Peter was sitting farther away from Remus than Sirius was, so the boy couldn't stop his other tactless friend from opening his mouth and asking rather loudly, "How does sorting cards help your hand?"
To his credit, Harry didn't look overtly annoyed by the question, nor, thankfully, did he halt in his movements or seem embarrassed, which were Remus' main fears. He simply said, "It doesn't."
Peter scrunched his eyebrows together and looked confusedly between Remus and Harry, as if trying to sort out who was lying to him. "Uhh- Then why are you doing it?" He tried.
"Flipping cards helps my hand," Harry told him. "I'm sorting them because otherwise I just might die of boredom flipping cards for 20 minutes straight," he said dryly as he paused to shake his hand out and stretch his fingers.
James' eyes glinted as he smiled and leaned forward. "Well, if that's the case, Bambi, then how about we prevent your early demise? If flipping is all you need to do, then I'm sure we can find a more entertaining way to go about it than sorting cards." James' face wrinkled with a look of disgust. "How about we play Battle?" He offered.
Harry finally looked up at that suggestion. He cocked his head to the side slightly and asked, a little hesitantly, "Uh- How do you play?"
The others exchanged confused looks. "You've never heard of Battle before?" Sirius asked a little incredulously. "I thought even muggles played it."
A bit of color invaded Harry's face as he said, a tad indignantly, "I've heard of it- just, uh, never actually played it before, I guess. At least, not that I remember." He more mumbled the last part.
James recovered quickly from the awkwardness and jumped in to explain. "Well, don't worry- it's really not a very complicated game. You basically divide up the deck evenly and everyone flips a card. The highest card wins and that person takes all of the others and puts them on the bottom of their deck. You play until someone has won all of the cards."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, that could work. As long as you don't mind…"
James grinned, "Any opportunity to put Padfoot in his place is one worth taking."
"Yeah, right," Sirius scoffed, already reaching over to gather up the cards and shuffle. "Like you have the skill to beat me," he rolled his eyes.
"You know it's entirely a game of luck, right?" Peter pointed out to both of them, earning himself a couple of offended looks.
"Luck is a skill," Sirius informed him adamantly as he dealt out the cards.
"Well, I guess I'm screwed then," Harry muttered, eliciting a chuckle from Remus.
In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, Harry woke with a small gasp. And for once, it hadn't been a bad dream that had awoken him. Not that he hadn't been having an unpleasant dream, but it had been a rather run-of-the-mill nightmare that usually didn't actually disrupt his sleep at this point. Instead, it had been the pain that had woken him up. Merlin- it felt as though his skull was trying to bludgeon his brain and his brain was fighting back with a vengeance. Harry couldn't help the small groan that escaped him as he tried to curl up, burying his head in his pillow and attempting to smother himself with the blankets.
But the longer he laid there trying to pray the crushing pain away, the harder it became. Despite the fact that sitting up, let alone standing and moving around, sounded like a dreadful idea, Harry was feeling antsy. There was an anger stewing somewhere inside of him that was driving a need to get up- to do something- to let off some steam. It seemed crazy since he had literally been asleep just a few minutes ago, but soon Harry caved to the feeling, shoving his sheets down and dragging himself out of bed. He fumbled for his glasses in the dark dormitory, keeping one hand cradling his throbbing head as the other skittered across his desk in search of the wire frames. Eventually, he found them and slipped them on before pulling himself to his feet.
While a shower sounded wonderful, his body rejected the idea of having to stand still underneath the relaxing spray and instead he was compelled to slip out of the quiet dorm and head down the stairs to the equally quiet common room. A small fire was still burning in the grate, casting a dim, flickering light around the room. Even that seemingly insignificant amount of light was enough to feel like tiny daggers in Harry's eyes and to ratchet the pain in his head up just one more notch. Harry let out another groan as his hands came up to cover and press on his eyes. It was as if he could feel his own heartbeat pulsing there. He began to walk around the room, trying to settle himself and work off some of the restless energy that had forced him out of bed at such an ungodly hour. To an outside observer, Harry rather resembled a cheetah at a zoo, anxiously pacing in its enclosure.
Harry wasn't sure exactly how long he spent wandering around the common room, but he wouldn't have been all that surprised to find that he'd worn groove in the floor from all of his repetitive strides back and forth across the room. At some point, he realized exactly what it was that had caused his agitation- Voldemort. Because, of course it was fucking Voldemort. As he paced, Harry got little flashes of Voldy throwing a hissy fit about something. That was where the anger and stress and anxiety was coming from. Harry couldn't help but smile a little bit at the comforting knowledge that even if his night had been ruined, at least so had Tom's. And he seemed rather upset by whatever had happened and a tad off kilter. Whatever it was had shook him, not just pissed him off. Harry had felt Voldemort's ire more times than he cared to count, but this was a little different. He'd never gotten so agitated before. Irritated, yes- but it had never driven him to pace up the walls like this. It was like Voldemort couldn't find an outlet for his feelings, so he was shoving them off on Harry instead. Maybe there was just no one around to curse? Or perhaps he'd finally found himself in a situation where he couldn't just murder and torture his way out? Either way, it seemed that Voldy was also suffering from having the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' and since misery loves company, Harry got to suffer as well.
But, eventually, after having properly identified the source of his feelings and burned off quite a bit of jittery energy, Harry was able to calm himself down enough to flop bonelessly onto one of the couches. His head still ached something fierce, but at least he was able to sort out his own feelings from Voldemort's and compartmentalize a little. Harry could now feel his own separate anger at being subjected to Tom's, but decided to focus on the positive- his own smug satisfaction that the Dark Lord had had a bad night.
Lily wasn't always an early riser, but she had the ability to get herself up when necessary. And that morning, she had some finishing touches to put on her Charms essay before class. While she knew that her essay was likely already more than satisfactory, a few more thoughts had come to her when she was getting ready for bed the previous night that she wanted to add, but Lily had lacked the motivation to do it right then, having already been winding down for the night. So, she had promised herself to wake up a little earlier than normal in order to allow enough time to add her last few comments to the essay. She had been careful not to wake her dormmates as she got ready and then slipped out of the room to head down and finish her work.
As Lily rounded the last few steps of the spiral staircase leading up to the girl's dormitories, she was not at all surprised to be met with a still and quiet common room. They didn't even start serving breakfast for another half hour, so no one really bothered to be up this early unless they had a good reason. Lily gave her head a little shake to try and wake herself up more as she plonked her Charms book down onto one of the tables. The text made a loud thud that seemed to echo around the empty room. Just as she turned to pull her essay out of her bag, Lily caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Snapping her head up, Lily scanned the common room in search of what had snagged her attention. It felt a bit like a game of I-Spy as her gaze roamed around the room and across the plethora of varying shades of red that decorated the space. Just as she was about to shrug it off as a trick of the firelight, Lily caught another bit of motion and her eyes settled on a small, red owl perched on the back of one of the couches.
Rising from her chair and moving towards the bird, she asked in a low voice, "Pyrrhus?" The little owl cracked open his eyes and glared at her, ruffling his feathers up even more, apparently displeased at being awoken by her and her loud book. "Sorry- I didn't mean to wake you," she tried to apologize. "What are you doing down here?" She asked, but Pyrrhus ignored her in favor of readjusting his positioning and turning around so that his back was to Lily as he snuggled his head down into his fluffed up feathers in an apparent attempt to go back to sleep.
Lily made her way around the couch- not one to just let a bird disrespect her like that. As she rounded the sofa, however, she caught sight of the boy with messy black hair apparently asleep on the other side of it. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on and they were now sitting rather askew- pushed sideways by how his face was resting against his arm. For a moment, Lily was wildly confused by what James was doing down in the common room, asleep, like this. She briefly wondered if there had been some kind of falling out among the guys last night or something and he had either been booted from the dorm or stormed out without any real plan and had ended up sleeping on the couch as a result. The thought made her oddly sad. It was pretty cold in the drafty room, and the low fire did little to ward off the February chill that was invading the castle these days. No wonder he was all curled up- he was probably freezing.
As she stood there, thoughts running wild, it also struck her just how small he looked. It was a common phenomenon for people to look younger and smaller and more innocent when they slept, but the longer she looked down at him, the more it seemed to be rather extreme in his case. James was usually the loudest (or second loudest if Sirius was there) person in the room. He was all confidence and bravado and pride. But seeing him now, he just seemed so- tiny.
Pyrrhus opened his eyes again to glare at Lily. His look seemed to be saying, 'What are you looking at?' And as Lily made eye contact with the little owl again, something clicked inside her brain and she suddenly felt very silly as a blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She was just glad that Pyrrhus was the only one around to witness her embarrassment as she realized that it was Harry- not James- that was sleeping on the couch. Because, of course it was. Why else would Harry's owl be standing guard over him? And it wasn't just some trick of sleep that he looked small- he was small. At least, smaller than James. Lily tried desperately to convince herself that she'd just assumed it was James because she'd known him for years longer than Harry and her sleep-addled brain was just not firing on all cylinders quite yet. It was most definitely not because she'd had James on her mind more often than normal lately.
Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, Lily refocused on the situation at hand. She debated whether or not to wake Harry up. On the one hand, she could guess that he hadn't really meant to fall asleep like he had, given the glasses still on his face. And she also knew that Harry would likely prefer for people not to find him sleeping down in the common room as they made their way to breakfast. But on the other hand, she knew he could probably use all of the sleep he could get and Harry appeared to be sleeping rather peacefully at the moment, so she was reluctant to disturb him. After a moment of contemplation, Lily decided to let him sleep a little longer, but to try and wake him before people started making their way down for breakfast. That should still give him another hour or so of sleep.
She summoned her book and bag over from the study table and settled herself instead on the floor near the couch Harry was sleeping on to work at the low coffee table there. Lily studied Harry's face at the new, close range as her hand groped around in her bag for her essay. She noted the slightly pinched expression it held- his eyebrows were drawn together a little, as if in deep concentration and there were small creases at the corners of his eyes, almost like he was smiling, but if anything, she would call the shape of his mouth closer to a grimace than a smile. But despite all of that, there was a calm air around him that spoke of contentedness. She sent a silent Warming charm Harry's way, just to be safe, and he seemed to relax a tiny bit, uncurling slightly from the ball he had tucked himself into.
With a small sigh, Lily finally pulled her essay out and set to work finishing it off. Soon, she was engrossed in her work and lost track of time. The creaking of the stairs drew her attention sometime later and she looked up to see a sleep rumpled Remus enter the common room. He was yawning, still dressed in his pajamas as his eyes swept over the room. When he caught sight of Lily, he smiled and headed over to greet her.
"'Morning, Lily," he said through another stifled yawn. "You haven't seen Harry, have you?" He asked, with just the slightest hint of concern in his eyes.
Lily smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before her gaze flicked down to the couch Remus was standing directly behind now. His eyes followed hers and he let out a small laugh. "Figures," he huffed, but smiled all the same.
"Any idea why he came down here?" Lily asked quietly. Remus just gave a little shrug and shook his head. "I found him asleep when I came down to finish up my essay," she said, with a nod towards the parchment laid out in front of her.
"I'm just glad that he was down here. I can only imagine what the others would've done if they'd woken up and he was gone again," Remus told her.
"Again?" Lily asked, her tone somewhere between alarmed and angry as her eyes narrowed.
Remus drew his own eyes up from where he'd been watching Harry sleep to look at her, his face clearly indicating that he hadn't meant to say something quite so incriminating. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, Remus decided that it was probably better to just be honest with her. "Uh- Yeah. You remember that fight we had back in the middle of last term? Well, Harry kind of didn't come home that night and we have no idea where he went. He just showed back up in the morning acting like it wasn't a big deal that he went missing for, like, fifteen hours. And I think they had another incident at the Potter's over break because Sirius keeps threatening to put a tracking spell on him." The ghost of a smirk crossed his face before he sighed, "I just don't think Harry really realizes how much it scares the shite out of us when we can't find him like that- especially given that more often than not when we eventually do track him down, it seems to be in the hospital wing," Remus said with a sad shake of his head.
Lily's expression softened a little at that. "Well, at least he didn't wander too far this time." She cast a quick tempus to check the time and was surprised to find that it was already past 6:30. "Reckon that we should probably wake him up? I wanted to let him sleep as much as possible, but the common room is going to become a high traffic area pretty soon…"
Remus nodded and the two looked at one another expectantly, neither wanting to be the one to do the actual deed. After a full minute of the two attempting to stare down the other with pointed looks, Pyrrhus got fed up with their antics. With a dramatic roll of his eyes and an irritated hoot, he hopped down off of the back of the couch and fluttered over to land on Harry's head, where he promptly began tromping around and letting out a funny trill that almost sounded closer to the neighing of a horse than the hooting of an owl. He looked like a little wind up toy marching around in circles through Harry's unkempt hair and sounded like some kind of muggle alarm clock. Harry wrinkled his nose at the treatment and rolled over to bury his face deeper into the couch with a small groan. Clearly, this did not satisfy Pyrrhus as he paused in his walking just long enough to bend down and nip at Harry's ear. As Harry's arm shot up to shoo the bird away, he expertly dodged the limb, fluttering out of the way, but soon swooped back in and began tugging at Harry's hair with his talons instead.
"Oh my god- you ruddy owl!" Harry moaned as he rolled back over in defeat, and properly opened his eyes to glare up at the bird who was still hovering above him. Lily and Remus couldn't help but laugh at the whole exchange. The sound drew Harry's attention away from the smug owl and his eyes widened slightly as he took everything around him and it registered that he was not up in the dormitory, but rather in the common room. And on top of that, he was not alone.
"We were gonna wake you up, but I guess Pyrrhus beat us to it," Remus teased. Harry sat the rest of the way up and fixed his glasses so that they were sitting properly on his face.
"Why were you sleeping down here anyway?" Lily asked, her tone curious, but not judgemental.
Harry reached up to rub the back of his neck. "Oh, uh- I didn't really mean to fall asleep. I just woke up and- uh- needed a little air, so I came down here," he said with a slightly pinched expression. Neither Lily nor Remus pressed him any further. Now fully remembering the events of the previous night, Harry quickly took stock of himself. He could still feel the distant echoes of Voldemort's anger and agitation, but it was nothing like what he'd felt during the night. And the headache was definitely still there, but it was resting just on this side of manageable. With a sigh, Harry got to his feet. "I'm guessing we ought to go get ready, yeah?" He asked Remus after noting that Lily was already dressed while his roommate was still in his night clothes like himself.
"Yeah," Remus smiled before adding to Lily, "We'll probably see you down at breakfast- we've got to go wake the dead." Remus rolled his eyes, already anticipating having to drag the others out of bed.
Harry's stomach clenched slightly at Remus' choice of words, but he was quick to shake it off. Pyrrhus flapped over and settled himself on Harry's shoulder, nuzzling into the very ear he'd nipped at just minutes ago. Harry snorted at the ridiculous bird, but reached up to pet him nonetheless. "We could alway just sic Pyrrhus on them and see how they like it. Might help motivate them to get up more timely in the future," Harry said with a hint of an evil grin.
While using the Pyrrhus alarm sounded like an entertaining proposition, Harry opted against it that morning as the almost guaranteed resulting chaos might've just done his head in. Instead, he left the task of rousing the others to Remus and slipped into the bathroom for what Harry hoped would be a relaxing shower. While the warm water did wonders for his stiff neck from sleeping on the couch, it unfortunately did very little to ease the throbbing in his head. As he toweled off and looked at his pale reflection in the mirror, Harry resigned himself to what was likely going to be a very long day.
Down at breakfast, Harry found that he wasn't very hungry, but he choked down some toast in an attempt to appease Sirius, who kept sending pointed looks his way. By the end of the meal, Harry had given up all pretenses of trying not to look suspicious in favor of pressing his cold glass of pumpkin juice to his aching head just for the minute, momentary relief.
"Are you alright, mate?" James asked, a little hesitantly.
Harry snapped his eyes open, which he hadn't realized he had actually closed at some point, and looked at James' concerned expression. "Yeah," Harry sighed. "I've just got a bit of a headache," he admitted.
James pursed his lips slightly, but left it at that- though, he did make eye contact with everyone around him when Harry closed his eyes again.
Eventually, the Gryffindor 6th years made their way to Charms. They were still on their household charms unit and had worked their way up to the much more complicated ones. That day was dedicated to the Dishes charm which was used to wash, dry, and put away dishes. It was particularly complicated because basically every dish was a different size and shape and level of fragile and dirty, so the magic put into the spell had to be very tightly controlled in order not to break anything while still actually getting everything nice and clean. And since it covered not only the washing stage, but also the drying and putting away, the spell itself included many subspells, like an embedded Drying charm and Banishing charm, which were not easy to perform.
Needless to say, with Harry's head not in the game that morning, he broke five dishes before insisting that Lily have a go instead of him. Each pair had been given a basin, dinner set, and dish rack to practice with. Lily also struggled a bit with the complex spellwork, but not nearly as much as Harry had. She only managed to chip one wine glass as she practiced, though she was having trouble with streaks and water spots on the glasses and cutlery. Harry just sat down and watched Lily work. He knew he wasn't being a very good partner, but he also just couldn't help it right then. It was all he could do to keep himself upright in his desk as he attempted to will the pounding in his skull into a calmer rhythm. When Harry saw Lily turn to offer him another chance to practice, he hastily muttered something about needing to use the restroom before skittering away.
He knew it was stupid to avoid Lily- she would probably be very nice and understanding if he just told her that he didn't feel up to pracicing the spell right then. But there was still that part of Harry that told him that such weakness was unacceptable- that he just needed to suck it up and pull himself together. So, he ran away instead of facing Lily and his own irrational fears. Realizing that he would now actually have to ask to go to the loo, Harry made his way over to where Professor Flitwick was helping a pair of Ravenclaws with their spell and patiently waited just out of earshot in the hopes of not coming off like he was lurking or trying to rush them. Honestly- Harry wanted them to take their sweet time.
Eventually, the professor was ready to move on and was surprised when he turned around to find Harry waiting just behind him. "Ah! Mr. Doe- What can I do for you? Needing a little help with the spell? I know this one is rather tricky," he said understandingly.
"Uh- No, sir. I was just wondering if I could go to the restroom?" Harry asked hesitantly.
Flitwick's bright eyes dimmed slightly as he took a closer look at Harry, noting his particularly pale face and drawn expression. "Of course, my boy. If you're feeling ill, you can head to the hospital wing if you'd rather," he offered kindly.
Harry shook his head. "I'm okay. Just needed the loo." Harry gave the professor a slightly strained smile, which Flitwick did not find particularly reassuring.
"If you're sure," he said and Harry nodded before turning to head out of the classroom.
Once he was in the hallway, Harry was free to drop his facade and quickly hung his head, rubbing at his temples and brow as he walked slowly down the corridor, trusting his feet to blindly know the way. Thankfully, they did and soon enough Harry found himself in the restroom nearest the Charms classroom.
Safely inside the relative privacy of the bathroom, Harry leaned heavily on one of the sinks. As he felt the cool porcelain under his fingers, Harry crouched down and rested his throbbing head on the cold, hard surface. He closed his eyes and took a series of deep, calming breaths, trying to center himself in order to block out and push away the pain. With a start, Harry realized that he had started to drift and after casting a tempus he realized he'd been gone from class for almost ten minutes already.
With a heavy sigh, Harry dragged himself fully upright once again and returned to leaning on the sink. He splashed some cold water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up and maybe bring a little color into his cheeks. Just as he looked up to inspect himself in the mirror and determine how successful or in vain his attempt at the latter was, the bathroom door banged open. Harry jumped, his wet hands slipping on the sink, causing him to nearly fall over, but thankfully he caught himself mid-stumble. As he looked around to see who was barging into the restroom so dramatically in the middle of classes, Harry felt an anger rise within him that was all his own. Auror fucking Monroe was standing just inside of doorway, looking suspiciously at Harry.
"What are you doing in here?" Monroe practically hissed, eyes narrowed.
Harry looked at him with a mixture of shock and incredulity. "What exactly do you think, sir?" He was in a bathroom after all.
Monroe didn't seem to appreciate Harry's tone as he pressed, "Been in here a long time, boy."
Harry's back went ramrod straight at those words. "I wasn't feeling very well, sir. And don't call me 'boy'," Harry warned. Monroe just scoffed and it sent Harry's blood boiling. "What is it that you think I'm doing in here?" Harry spat. "Afraid I'm scrying for the Dark Lord in the loo?" He said mockingly. "Why don't you stop harassing me and go find yourself a real Death Eater to stalk?!" Some rational portion of his brain was screaming at Harry that he shouldn't have said that, but he'd been on edge all morning and apparently this was his breaking point.
Monroe practically snarled at him. "The 'Dark Lord', eh?" Monroe asked, as though he had just caught Harry red handed with a schedule one illegal artifact. Harry rolled his eyes. Some people just couldn't appreciate good sarcasm when it hit them upside the head.
"Do you follow all of the boys into the toilet? Or is it just me? I feel I should warn you- I am still only sixteen," Harry said in a falsely coy tone.
Now that caused Monroe to take a step back. His eyes quickly roved around the chamber as if he was only just realizing where exactly he was. But just as quickly, his expressions hardened again. "I was only forced to enter because you failed to reemerge for a suspiciously long time," he declared.
"Oh, so you just followed me to the bathroom and then waited with baited breath for me to reemerge? You're right, that's much less creepy."
Monroe seemed to splutter for a moment before pivoting. "And you should be in class at this hour, not roaming the halls."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Professor Flitwick gave me permission to go to the loo- is that so hard to believe? Or is taking a piss some kind of gateway to the Dark Arts that I should know about? I'd hate to think that I've been in here getting corrupted by the toilet seats this whole time. Ooh- or maybe I cursed them to turn the next person to pop a squat into a raving lunatic murderer!" Monroe actually cast a wary look over towards the stalls in the room and Harry snorted. "If you believe that, then you're gonna have a long night of checking toilets ahead of you. You really think that this is the first loo I've been in today? This week? Just imagine- I could've cursed any or all of them!" Harry could feel himself getting a little hysterical. But his filter, along with his off switch, seemed like nothing but a distant memory at this point.
"Well, let's just see about all of that," Monroe said pointedly. He reached out to wrap his hand in a tight grip around Harry's arm in order to frogmarch him out of the room. But the instant that the auror's fingers came into contact with Harry, his magic sparked and crackled along his skin, sending a sharp shock up Monroe's arm, causing the auror to quickly withdraw his hand.
The ozonish smell of wild magic permeated the air around Harry as he snapped, "Don't touch me."
As Harry saw the man start to go for his own wand, he knew that he needed to get himself under control. Running his mouth was one thing, but wild magic could be very dangerous. Taking a step back, Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths in order to reign his magic in. He just prayed that Monroe cared enough about the sanctity of his position to not hex an unarmed child when his eyes were closed. After a minute, Harry's skin stopped tingling and he felt the air clear as he opened his eyes. "I will go wherever you direct, but please do not touch me, sir," Harry said rather formally.
Monroe still looked on edge, but finally gave a short nod and barked, "Back to class." Harry had to stifle his laugh when Monroe warded the bathroom to prevent anyone else from going in. Apparently he was not yet done with his investigation into Harry's nefarious deeds in there. Harry led the way back to Charms where he stopped outside of the door. "Go in," Monroe commanded. "I wish to have a word with your professor." Apparently, he was calling what he thought was Harry's bluff. It wasn't a bluff, so Harry just shrugged and pushed open the door.
A few worried faces immediately swiveled over at the sound of the door opening- after all, he'd been gone for a very long time at that point. But he watched as the mild worry morphed into outright concern as the auror followed Harry in. As Monroe strode to the front of the class, motioning for Flitwick to come join him, all eyes were on him and whispers broke out around the classroom. Harry just headed back over to his desk where Lily was looking at him anxiously.
"What happened, Harry?" She asked as the rest of their friends gathered around and leaned in.
"Nothing," Harry said honestly. At the disbelieving looks from all sides, Harry sighed and explained, "I went to the loo and I guess Monroe followed me. He decided that I was taking too long and barged in and demanded to know 'what I was doing in there'." Harry used dramatic air quotes around those words. "I was in the loo, so I thought that would've been pretty self-explanatory, but I guess it wasn't. He seemed convinced that I was somehow doing Voldemort's evil bidding in the third floor toilets," Harry said, exasperatedly. Everyone around him gasped, drawing Monroe's attention and eliciting another scowl from the man. "What?" Harry asked. His story really hadn't been that scandalous.
"You can't just go throwing out You-Know-Who's name like that," Sirius hissed.
"Oh. Sorry," Harry said a little sheepishly. Everyone was still looking at him a bit incredulously and with a hint of fear.
"If that's all that happened, then why does Monroe look so- pissed?" Peter asked tentatively, looking between Harry and the irritated auror who was still talking with Professor Flitwick, who was now also looking a touch angry.
Harry averted his eyes when he admitted, "I- uh- may have implied that he was a pedophile and insinuated that I may or may not have cursed every toilet seat in the castle."
"Did you?" Milli asked eagerly.
"No, of course not," Harry laughed. "Though, I just might now. Give him something better to do all day besides follow students into the loo," he scowled.
"You don't think he actually was trying something- do you?" Sirius asked in a low voice.
Harry's brow furrowed, not understanding the question for a moment, before his eyes widened slightly. "No," he said quickly. "I've met a lot of bad people and I really do think he's just a prick, not a predator. When I kindly pointed out his behavior, he looked a little shocked. I honestly don't think he really thought it through and considered how it may look to a third party before barging in. If he does that kind of thing to the wrong person, he's gonna end up getting reported."
"You're not gonna report him?" Gretta asked. Harry gave her a confused look, so she added, "Why should he be allowed to do that to you and not someone else?"
Harry just shrugged. "I'd rather have as few aurors involved in my life as possible. Given that this one is already convinced I'm some kind of dark wizard in training, I'm not very eager to roll the dice with another one," he said. "Besides, maybe this time the message will sink in with him. After he spends a couple of hours tearing that bathroom apart and doesn't find shit- well, maybe he'll only find shit- that incriminates me, he'll finally realize that I'm not evil or whatever." Then Harry smirked, "Plus, my magic may have given him a little shock when he tried to grab me, so I'm guessing he won't be trying that again any time soon."
If this whole conversation hadn't been concerning enough, that last detail definitely would have clenched it. Harry had very good control over his magic from what his friends had seen, so whatever had happened between him and the auror in that bathroom must have been pretty bad, in their minds, to cause Harry to lose control like that.
"He tried to grab you?" Sirius growled.
"Unsuccessfully," Harry pointed out.
Their group fell into an uneasy silence as Monroe and Flitwick seemed to have finished up their conversation and the auror made his way back across the classroom and out the door, sending Harry one last scathing look on his way past.
Professor Flitwick made his way over to the gathered Gryffindors and asked, "Harry, are you okay?"
A bit surprised by the question, but assuming he was referring back to when he'd asked if Harry wanted to go to the hospital wing earlier, Harry answered politely, "I'm fine, sir."
Flitwick frowned. "I must say, that was a bit of an upsetting conversation."
Harry fidgeted a little and said hastily, "I'm not sure what he told you, sir, but I swear, I really was just in the bathroom."
Flitwick looked up from where he'd been scrutinizing the floor, seemingly deep in thought and saw how nervous Harry was. "Oh, of course, Mr. Doe. I didn't mean in regard to you. Auror Monroe seemed to have some rather wild and baseless theories and was rather insistent that you were somehow out of bounds on a sanctioned bathroom visit. Has he given you any trouble before?"
"He's stopped all of us a couple of times when we were just walking in the corridors," Harry shrugged. "I don't know what I did to upset him or make him suspicious of me- as far as I know, he's only ever seen me walk through the castle and it's not like I have a reputation for going around hexing people or anything…"
Flitwick looked thoughtful at that. "Well, if you're sure you're okay-" He said and then added, "But if he continues to give you- shall we say, 'unjustified attention', please do let me or your Head of House know. The aurors are supposed to be here to help protect the students, not prevent them from using the lavatory," Flitwick told them with a shake of his head. "That goes for all of you," he said as he looked around at all of the Gryffindors.
After all of the excitement, the rest of Charms was a bit of a blur. By lunch, the adrenaline had had a chance to properly fade and Harry was back to feeling like absolute shit. He grabbed himself a bowl of soup to play with and made a game of seeing how much liquid he could absorb into a roll before trying to wandlessly vanish it under the table. And he actually managed it a couple of times throughout the meal.
Eventually, Harry and his housemates made their way to Defense class. It was honestly a minor miracle that Harry managed to make it through the afternoon without overtly embarrassing himself or passing out (or both). Thankfully, the lesson was half lecture, so Fortin allowed them the rare kindness of having desks to sit in. Harry wasn't processing most of what was being said, but he was listening just enough to get that they were talking about Disillusionment spells which, luckily, he already knew how to do. So when their lesson switched over to the practical half, even with his brain only half functioning, he was still able to perform the spell enough to pass.
Once lessons were over for the day, Harry declared that he was going to have a lie down before dinner and received no arguments. Everyone was just happy that he was willing to rest a bit- he had been looking rather peaky all day. So Harry made his way up to Gryffindor tower and bonelessly flopped down in his bed. He managed to fall asleep shockingly quickly.
Harry was roused a few hours later by his dormmates telling him it was time for dinner, so he lugged himself out of bed and stumbled down to the Great Hall where he made a valiant effort at forcing some food into his body, but mostly ended up just pushing it around his plate.
After dinner, Harry decided 'homework be damned' and just went straight back to bed. His Potions grade was already shite- not that it mattered, he reminded himself- and he could work on Transfiguration during lunch tomorrow so that he'd have at least something to turn in. So Harry just switched out his robes for a t-shirt and joggers and crawled back under his wonderful covers.
For once, Harry actually slept all the way through the night. And the next morning, it seemed to have done him a world of good. His blasted headache was finally gone and he felt refreshed. Tommy seemed to have gotten over whatever he was so pissy about the previous day, so Harry was happy to move on. He was still up a little bit before the rest of his dormmates, so Harry went and took a shower, but by the time he was out, everyone else was up, which was uncommon. Seeing Harry's genuine, unstrained smile made everyone's morning. They had all been rather worried when Harry had decided to go to bed rather than finish his homework the previous night- given that previously even a dangerously high fever hadn't prevented Harry from at least trying to get his work done. But maybe this was just a sign that Harry was actually trying to take care of himself for once. They could only hope that that was the case, because the alternative was that Harry was deathly ill and not telling them. But he really did look a lot better that morning.
Down at breakfast, Harry actually ate a bowl of porridge and a couple of pieces of bacon, finally hungry now that something else wasn't outranking that signal in his body. He chatted with his friends at the table before bracing himself for what was likely to be an unpleasant Potions class.
Unfortunately, Harry's prediction had been dead on. Not only was Harry, as usual, pants at Potions, but since he hadn't done the homework, he was hopelessly lost with their brew that day. And, naturally, Slughorn had them brewing individually that class, so Harry had absolutely no help or hope. They were supposed to be making some kind of powerful sleeping draft which progressed through all of the shades of the rainbow before taking on a cloud-like final product that drifted around inside of your cauldron. The potion that Slughorn described sounded lovely, and Harry really wished that he'd gotten to see it, but, alas, his concoction just kept releasing great plumes of steam and smoke of seemingly random, muddy colors.
Despite Harry's slightly desperate efforts, his potion proved to be beyond fixing. And it also didn't help that the longer he spent hunched over the cauldron, the more and more fumes he breathed in to the point that Harry was feeling a little woozy from the vaporized soporific ingredients. His potion ended up not being worth bottling by the end of the lesson, so Slughorn just vanished it before Harry cleaned up his disaster of a workstation and then teetered out of the classroom and off to lunch.
All throughout the lunch hour, Lily kept jostling Harry, warning him not to fall asleep. Merlin only knew how exactly he had botched his potion, so it was a bad idea to give into the effects if he could avoid it. After all, you were always better off conscious. So Harry was doing his best to fight the sleepy feeling that seemed to be trying to cloud the edges of his vision with muddy colors. After a few cups of highly caffeinated tea, Harry was feeling a little bit better and Lily seemed much more stratified with his state of alertness. She had been a few more jostles away from taking him to the hospital wing to sort out exactly what had gone wrong with his potion- they did not need Harry falling into a coma in the Great Hall because he didn't know the difference between newt skin and skink scales or something.
After lunch, in Transfiguration, McGonagall was droning on, deep into a complicated theory lecture. Harry had honestly zoned out a while ago and was hoping Remus or James might be willing to give him the highlights later. He'd propped his head up on his arm in an attempt to still look engaged, despite his glazed expression. He could tell now that the tea he'd had during lunch had merely been a bandaid on his drowsiness problem. But still, he fought valiantly against the cloudiness that kept trying to pull him under, snapping his eyes open whenever they dared to drift shut. So, Harry drifted through class in his dazed state for a while.
The pain came out of nowhere and hit him like a ton of bricks. It was blinding and all consuming to the point where Harry didn't even feel it when he fell out of his chair. All he was aware of was that his head was about to explode.
As the darkness overcame him, a pleading voice met his ears.
"I'm sorry, My Lord!" A woman cried.
"No, dear girl. You are not sorry. You are a failure who will soon learn the true meaning of regret for disappointing her master," he said in a deathly calm, cutting voice.
"Please! My Lord! Give me another chance! I will find an even safer place to keep it. The goblin- he threw me out when he saw what I wished to deposit. The filthy creature! But we do not need their help. I promise- I will not fail you again," the woman vowed. She was bowed even lower on the floor, her long, wild, black hair splayed out around her on the ground as she dared not raise her face from where it was pressed against the rough, cold stones beneath her master's feet.
"I do not require help- I am due respect and loyalty and submission. Or have you forgotten such things? I expected so much more of you, but you have disappointed me. Obeying the orders of some pitiful goblin over your master. Despicable," he spat. "Perhaps, a reminder is necessary- of the powers you serve." He raised his wand. "Crucio!"
Harry's blood was boiling and it felt as if his skin was being flayed. The shattering pain consumed him once more and everything faded to black once again.
As Harry slumped down in his desk, sagging sideways and pitching onto the floor, someone gasped. McGonagall paused in her dull lecture, eyes roaming the class, searching for the disturbance. At first, there wasn't an obvious source for the sound, but then another was heard- a soft, pained whimper- and suddenly half of the Gryffindor side of the classroom was on their feet. McGonagall strode forward to see what had everyone so riled up and was shocked to find Harry Doe curled up on the floor. He was the source of the faint whimpering sound. The professor was momentarily frozen as she looked down with wide eyes at the boy. His friends, however, sprang into action.
"Pads- get his other arm!" James yelled as he dropped down beside Harry and began prying his friend's left hand away from his face. Sirius quickly followed his lead on the right. Only after the boys had begun doing so did McGonagall realize that Harry had been attempting to claw at his face.
McGonagall quickly looked around the room, trying to sort out what was happening. This didn't look like any curse she was familiar with, but she still searched the students for any potentially guilty or smug faces. She didn't find any. Most of the class had risen out of their chairs to get a better look at what was happening, but their faces were all creased with concern or shock. Her Gryffindors, on the other hand, seemed to have at least some sense if their swift actions were any indication.
"What is going on?" McGonagall asked sharply.
James looked up at her with slightly wide, fearful eyes and said, "He's asleep."
"Asleep?" She asked, brow creasing as she looked between James and Harry, who was still writhing on the floor, fighting the other boys' grip on his arms.
"Yeah, it's a- a nightmare," James said, exchanging a dark look with his other friends. Peter and Remus were hovering nearby while Sirius was valiantly trying to rouse Harry while still preventing the boy from hurting himself.
McGonagall opened her mouth to say something else when Harry cut her off, letting out a terrible scream as his body began to twitch and shake. Horrified, McGonagall whirled around and shouted at a random Hufflepuff, "Go get Madam Pomfrey!" The boy bolted from the room.
James looked desperately up at Peter and Remus and snapped, "Do it!"
Remus didn't hesitate, whipping his wand out. "Aguamenti!" Cold water shot from his wand, dousing Harry, and Remus didn't cut the spell off until he'd gone silent and still.
Lily dropped down next to Harry's head with tears in her eyes. She reached a shaking hand out and ran her fingers through his now wet hair. At the contact, Harry's eyes cracked open, clouded with confusion and pain. "Shhh- it's okay. You're okay," she told him softly, mustering up a watery, but reassuring smile. Even as Harry's body continued to tremble and his eyes slid closed again, a small smile of his own curved his lips as he leaned ever so slightly into the comforting gesture, allowing his tense body to relax a little.
McGonagall cast the one, simple diagnostic spell that she knew, assuring herself that Harry was at least not actively dying, before she looked up and realized that the entire class was still frozen, half out of their desks, craning their necks to get a look at Harry. "Class dismissed!" She called firmly, adding a harsh glare to get everybody moving towards the door. Well, every Hufflepuff at least- but she knew better than to have expected her Gryffindors to be willing to leave their friend at that moment. Sirius and James had released their holds on Harry and now both sat back on their heels, watching Lily try and comfort him. They were kind of amazed that she was managing as well as she was. In all of their own experiences with Harry and his awful nightmares, when he'd woken up, he'd skittered away from them, refusing any and all physical contact. But now, he was not only allowing Lily to touch him, he seemed to actually be taking solace in it.
They all just sat there like that, Lily gently running a soothing hand through Harry's hair and across his face, everyone else watching on as they tried to reign in their own panic. A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey arrived with her slightly frantic escort.
"Thank you, Mr. Nash," McGonagall dismissed the Hufflepuff boy.
Pomfrey immediately took Sirius' place at Harry's side, already casting with one hand as the other reached out to grab his wrist. Harry flinched, wrenching his arm back, his big, green eyes flying open as he scrambled back, causing the others to all jump as well. He quickly ran into Lily and James though in his hasty retreat to get away from Madam Pomfrey. Looking around with wide, sleep clouded eyes, Harry blinked hard and took in the scene around him as he fought to get his breathing and heart rate under control. They all saw the moment it dawned on him what had happened as Harry dropped his head in embarrassment, pulling his knees up to his chest, almost like he was trying to hide behind them.
"I'm okay," he mumbled, unconvincingly.
Pomfrey's eyes raked over Harry, taking in his twitchy, trembling body. But her diagnostic spell corroborated his claim. Hmm… "Harry- do you know what happened?" She asked carefully.
Harry raised his head to look at the matron, but didn't answer. Instead, he made brief eye contact with her before his eyes flicked upwards so fast Pomfrey almost wondered if she'd imagined it. But she was fairly certain she hadn't and understanding soon dawned on her. His scar- the killing curse- the connection. Harry's haunted voice echoed in her head, saying, 'he was doing some particularly sick shit' along with a resigned, 'there's nothing actually wrong with me'. Pomfrey gave him the slightest nod in acknowledgement.
"Do you think you can stand and accompany me back to the infirmary?" She asked.
Harry let out an exasperated sounding sigh before nodding. James and Lily rose too, helping Harry up, hovering as he shakily found his footing. Harry flashed them a weak smile as he took a tentative step forward towards Madam Pomfrey. The matron cast a quick Drying charm on him and carefully settled a gentle hand on his back as Harry drew even with her. She felt his twitchy muscles tense at the contact, but he thankfully didn't fully flinch away.
Pomfrey cast a firm look around at the concerned Gryffindors, saying, "No visitors until after dinner." She waited until she received head nods of acknowledgement from everyone before making brief eye contact with Professor McGonagall. With a look, Pomfrey was able to reassure McGonagall that Harry would be okay and McGonagall was able to communicate that she would be up to check on him soon, after dealing with the rest of her lions. After one last small nod from Pomfrey, she and Harry made their way out of the classroom.
As Harry made to stoop down and collect his bag, Pomfrey clucked and with a wave of her wand, sent it levitating alongside them. Their progress was slow as Harry was still trembling as they made their way up to the infirmary, but Pomfrey remained a patient and solid presence at his side the whole way. There was no need to rush. And luckily, classes were still in session, so the hallways were mostly deserted, meaning that there were not even prying eyes to avoid. The only people they ran into were a pair of 6th year Hufflepuffs from Harry's Transfiguration class coming out of the girl's lavatory, but they just gave Harry matching kind smiles as relief washed over their faces at seeing him up and walking and able to return their smiles.
When they finally reached the hospital wing, Harry cast a quick glance around and saw that there were already a few occupants tucked into some of the beds. Pomfrey, who had been watching him closely since she'd first arrived at his side back in the Transfiguration classroom, noted his reaction immediately.
Just inside the doors, Pomfrey halted, causing Harry to stop as well. She leaned down and told him quietly, "How about you head to my office and rest in there for a moment while I check on things real quick? I'll be in to join you in a few minutes. I'm guessing you would prefer that our conversation be- private?" Harry gave her a thankful look as he nodded. Pomfrey walked him all the way to her office door before actually taking her hand off of Harry's back, and even then she stood in the doorway and watched until he had taken a seat in one of the cushioned chairs in front of her desk before softly closing the door.
Pomfrey made quick work of checking to make sure nothing had changed while she was gone and that everyone was still stable and resting. Entering her office a few minutes later, Pomfrey found Harry just where she'd left him, though he was now kind of curled up in the chair. As she made her way towards the other seat on the near side of her desk, the matron noticed that Harry had actually taken off his shoes before drawing his legs up to his chest so that his socked feet now rested on the upholstery. His head was bowed to rest on his bent knees, but he turned to look in her direction at the sound of the office door opening and tracked her progress across the room.
As Pomfrey took the seat next to Harry's, she decided to start with the most important question. "Is there anything I can do or get you, Harry, that might help?"
She could tell he was about to shake his head when he paused in the movement and said in a slightly rough voice, "Maybe some water?" Pomfrey promptly conjured a cup and filled it from her wand before handing it over to Harry. The boy took it with still shaky hands, but quickly settled the glass into his lap before he managed to spill it. Harry sent a silent 'thank you' to Pomfrey for her consideration to give him straw, allowing him to drink without having to raise the entire cup.
Once Harry had taken a few sips, Pomfrey continued, "Can you tell me what happened? I am assuming it was something like the incident over break- related to your scar and the connection?" Harry paused for a moment before answering, looking as though he were contemplating the question. As his hesitation drew out, Pomfrey added, "I can assure you that I have the best privacy wards up on my office and that our agreement still stands that what you tell me will not leave this room."
Harry actually gave her a small smile. In truth, it was not his distrust of the matron that was the reason for his delay in answering, but rather the fact that he was still trying to sort out exactly what had happened for himself. He could still feel the faint pull of the sleeping potion from that morning at the edges of his brain and it almost seemed to be turning his thoughts sicky. Like when you are trying to turn the pages of an old book, but they don't want to cooperate. With a sigh, Harry brought a hand up to rub at his brow and decided to just start at the beginning and hope the story would sort itself out as he talked. He had faith that Pomfrey would be willing to bear with him through it.
After one last deep breath, Harry began, "I really messed up my potion this morning in Potions class. We were supposed to be making some kind of fancy sleeping draft, but, as usual, I managed to royally screw it up. I think I ended up inhaling a lot of fumes from it because I've been super tired all afternoon even though I actually slept really well last night. So, I was really trying to stay awake during Transfiguration and I'm honestly not sure if I accidentally fell asleep or if my hazy mind was just more open or something, but all of a sudden I found myself in a- dream, for lack of a better term- kind of like what happened over break. I promise this one wasn't nearly as bad, though. I'll be fine in a little while. And once the potion fumes wear off," he added, blinking extra hard a couple of times as he clenched his trembling hands into fists.
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, but asked in a calm voice, "And how are you feeling now?"
Harry gave her a strained smile. "Mostly just tired, like before. I also have a bit of a headache and, well…" He held his hand up which still had a visible tremor and his arm helpfully took that moment to give a full twitch. Harry quickly tucked is back into his lap as Pomfrey frowned.
"If my memory serves, the twitching is new," Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at Harry who silently cursed in his head. He'd really been hoping that she wouldn't call him out on that. "Any idea what caused it this time?" She pressed.
Harry chewed his lip for a second while debating whether or not to tell her, but eventually decided that it would be kind of silly to lie at this point- she already knew everything else. "He- Uh- He used the Cruciatus curse this time," Harry admitted quietly. Much to her credit, Pomfrey managed to stifle most of her shocked reaction, a slight widening of her eyes the only outward sign of her horror. "But, as I'm sure you know, there's nothing you can really do for that- even if it weren't just a dream," Harry added with a small, sad smile. "It'll go away in a few hours."
Though she hated it, Pomfrey conceded this with a nod, a pained expression creeping onto her face. She did not care for the confidence Harry had in that last statement. It spoke of prior experience. "Is there anything else?" She asked in a tight voice and Harry shook his head. "Very well. Thank you for telling me. I just need to have a word with Professor Slughorn about your potion this morning to make sure there weren't any potentially dangerous reactions- though, I would hope he wouldn't have let you leave class as he did if that were the case. Until I return, I will have to request that you remain awake, Harry. It is unwise to sleep with an improperly brewed sleeping potion in your system," she warned.
"You don't have to worry about that, ma'am- the last thing I want to do right now is sleep," Harry assured her. Pomfrey saw the haunted look lurking in his eyes and gave an understanding nod. She then stood and summoned a house elf who popped away to return a few seconds later with a cup that she took and thanked the elf before turning back towards Harry. She handed him what turned out to be a cold glass of chocolate milk. Harry flushed a little, feeling like a small child as Pomfrey put a straw in the new drink as well. "I figured hot chocolate might be a little counter productive if you need to stay awake," she winked. "You are welcome to stay in here until I return if you are certain you won't fall asleep."
"I'll be fine, ma'am," Harry promised.
After running her eyes over Harry one last time, Pomfrey went around the desk and flooed away.
McGonagall and the rest of the 6th year Gryffindors stood in somber silence as they watched Harry and Madam Pomfrey leave the classroom. As the door clicked closed behind them, McGonagall let out a long sigh and brought a hand up in an attempt to rub out the deep lines that had creased her forehead. She took a moment to take stock of her remaining lions- they were all seemingly frozen either staring at the closed door, the floor where Harry had laid mere moments before, or up at her with wide, frightened eyes.
Taking a deep breath through her nose, McGonagall said in as calm a voice as she could manage, "Madam Pomfrey will take good care of Mr. Doe. Ladies- might I suggest you return to the tower for now. You may check on him after dinner, but for now, I think everyone could use a rest," she told them kindly. "And gentlemen, if I may have a word with you before you join them?" McGonagall did her best to not make the request sound like a threat. She had not yet decided if the boys might be in trouble for what was about to be discussed.
The guys all exchanged looks with each other and seemed to be holding an entire nonverbal conversation right before her eyes, but the professor was very much out of the loop on what they were actually conveying. The students all gathered their bags and with a few sympathetic looks at the guys, the girls all left, huddled tightly together. The boys slung their bags over their shoulders and faced their professor with surprisingly stoic expressions.
McGonagall led the way to her office where she conjured a few more chairs so that all four boys could sit. As they all perched on their seats, McGonagall covertly ordered some tea which appeared on her desk a few moments later. She didn't bother to ask- she just poured each boy a cup and sent them levitating over to them followed by a sugar bowl and milk pitcher that made the rounds.
"Biscuit?" She asked as she sent a tin of shortbread after the rest. McGonagall stifled a small smile at their slightly shocked expressions, but after a moment's hesitation, each boy grabbed a biscuit as well- though only Peter ate it right away. After giving everyone a minute to take a couple sips of tea- herself included- McGonagall set about her more unpleasant task. Clearly these boys knew something about what had just happened in her classroom- to their classmate- and she needed to get to the bottom of it. She was hard pressed to think that they were hiding something maliciously, but teenaged boys didn't always make wise and discerning decisions. And if the looks on their faces now and their actions earlier were anything to judge by, they knew that this was serious and were just as concerned and upset as she herself was.
Taking one last, long sip of the bracing tea, McGonagall began, "First, I wanted to commend you for your quick actions to help Mr. Doe. Ten points to Gryffindor for keeping a level head in such a situation." Clearly that was not what any of the boys had been expecting to come out of the professor's mouth when she began speaking. She continued, "However, your swift and- informed- response leads me to believe that this was not the first time something like that has happened to Mr. Doe, which concerns me. Mr. Potter- you had said that it was a 'nightmare'-" She pursed her lips. "Would you care to explain?"
James looked over at his friends and there was another moment of silent communication amongst them before he gave a small nod and said, "Harry does have nightmares a lot, professor. He actually used to sleep with a Silencing spell on his bed until we figured it out in the middle of last term and made him stop putting it up. They range from run-of-the-mill to bad to really bad. Most nights, it seems to mostly be the run-of-the-mill variety, but he's had a couple that were bad, like today. But I really do think that he accidentally fell asleep and it was just a- bad nightmare," James finished haltingly with an almost pleading look in his eye, as if he was begging the professor to believe him.
McGonagall's eyes moved from James to sweep over the rest of the boys and she was slightly unsettled by the earnest looks she saw. She had never before seen Sirius Black looking quite so- serious. As she turned over James' words in her head, she found herself caught up on his wording and furrowed her brow. "So, you are saying that what just happened didn't qualify as 'very bad', but rather just 'bad'?" That was kind of a terrifying thought as Harry's pained scream still echoed in her head.
At her words, James and Sirius exchanged another dark look before James spoke up. "He had one over break that kind of put the rest to shame. I think my mum was just about ready to take him to St. Mungo's. But Madam Pomfrey came over, so she knows about that one- and maybe the others if Harry told her."
McGonagall was rather upset by that news and she shuddered to think what could put what she had just witnessed 'to shame'. More in an effort to fill the air than anything, she asked, "And the water?"
Remus took that one and said, "We've just found that's the fastest way to wake him up when the regular way isn't working. Figure he's better off a little cold, damp, and awake than he is stuck in whatever is going on in his nightmares… A quick Drying charm can only fix one of those things, you know? And he's never complained about our methods," Remus shrugged.
McGonagall just gave a sad nod before bringing her elbows up to rest atop her desk and leaning forwards with clasped hands. "And why did you not tell anyone if things were that bad?" That, perhaps, was the crux of the issue.
There was a moment of silence that hung heavy in the small room. McGonagall was surprised when it was Sirius who broke it. "Professor-" He said, leaning forwards himself a bit. "If we had come to you last term and told you that Harry was having nightmares, what would you have done?"
McGonagall looked a little taken aback, but she told him, "I think this situation goes a bit beyond simple 'nightmares'."
Sirius inclined his head. "Yes. We know that, and you know that now, but try to imagine that the four of us came to you and said that. Would you really have taken us seriously? And what even could you do about it? It's not like he's some firsty that needs a hug and cup of tea and to write home to mummy. And I think you have dealt with Harry- and particularly Harry anywhere near the hospital wing- enough to know that he would never willingly admit that he was having a problem. Madam Pomfrey knows about it. So, I think I speak for all of us when I say- if you have any concrete suggestions for what more we can do- how else we can help Harry besides being there to wake him up and support our friend when he needs it- we are all ears. But betraying his trust felt like the bigger sin than not telling someone- who couldn't actually do anything to help- about his nightmares. And believe me- Harry doesn't trust easily. But we think he deserves to feel safe and secure in his home here at school."
McGonagall felt a bit gobsmacked. She had honestly not thought Sirius capable of such insight, consideration, and eloquence. And while as a professor she may not agree with the results of his final conclusion, she could not argue with the boy's logic. It was also a little heartwarming to hear that Harry had such thoughtful and dedicated friends.
Eventually, McGonagall said, "Very well. But in the future, I would like you boys to loop in the appropriate parties for any incidents in the future- be it myself or Madam Pomfrey or another member of the staff if you'd prefer." The boys gave slightly reluctant nods, though they had a feeling that Harry was likely to be getting a very similar lecture from Madam Pomfrey sometime before his release from her care. With one last, long look at her students, McGonagall said, "I would suggest that you boys also return to the tower until dinner." And they were dismissed.
McGonagall took a couple of minutes to herself after James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter left her office. She let her stoney mask slip and the feelings she had been shoving down well up and overtake her for a moment as she buried her face in her hands. Once again, she felt like she had failed her student. And not just her student- technically her ward. For such a kind, intelligent, soft spoken young man, the poor boy seemed doomed to do nothing but suffer under the school's- her- care. It felt like a miracle that Harry had managed to survive even this long with all that had happened since his arrival, and it seemed as though she hadn't even known the half of it. What else could be going on behind closed doors within her own house?
The other thing that troubled the Head of Gryffindor was what Sirius Black had said. What even could she do about it? Now that she knew, what was her next move? She was a powerful witch, damn it- but she found herself feeling once again utterly helpless and at a complete loss as to how to aid the strange boy that had fallen into their lives at the beginning of that school year.
McGonagall took another moment to collect herself, closing off her feelings behind a tightly controlled expression, before she rose and made her way to the hospital wing. She decided to walk rather than floo to allow herself the journey to gather her thoughts a little more. When she entered the wing, McGonagall found Pomfrey hovering over one of the beds and walked purposefully towards her. As the professor drew near, she realized that it was Harry who Pomfrey was fussing over. Thankfully, the boy looked to be sleeping peacefully, though, even in sleep, his body was still trembling slightly. Upon hearing someone approach, the matron looked up and met McGonagall's eyes, offering her a strained smile while also bringing a finger to her lips and motioning with her head that they should step aside to talk. Pomfrey could guess what the professor wanted to discuss.
Finishing up her task, Pomfrey soon joined McGonagall a few meters away from the bed- far enough not to disturb Harry with their low voices, but close enough that the women could still keep a watchful eye on him and be at his side in an instant should he need anything. McGonagall's gaze was pulled from Harry when Pomfrey spoke. "I'm sorry to shoo you away like that, but I just got Harry down. He was, understandably, rather reluctant to fall asleep again, but there was a bit of Sleeping draft in his system from an incident in Potions class earlier today that he really needed to sleep off," she explained.
McGonagall nodded in understanding. Not that it had really been top of her mind, but it was nice to know that Harry hadn't fallen asleep during her lecture purely out of boredom. "How is he doing?"
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and hesitated for an instant before replying, "He should be fine by tomorrow."
McGonagall did not care for the evasive nature of that answer. She pressed, "And do you know what happened?"
Again, Pomfrey did not answer her friend's question directly. "Harry and I discussed it," was all she said.
"I too had a discussion- with Mr. Doe's dormmates. I understand that you were involved with a similar incident over the holidays? Were you aware of this as an ongoing problem throughout last term as well?" McGonagall raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Pomfrey let out a small sigh. "I must admit that, no, not at the time. But Harry and I have since discussed it."
Clearly, this line of questioning was not getting her anywhere, so McGonagall decided to just come right out and ask, "Poppy- what is wrong with him? It is beyond clear that what he suffered was no normal 'nightmare'. And I find myself very concerned for my student."
"Minerva- you know that private medical information is between me and my patients unless I have their consent to share it or it is legally or medically necessary to breach their confidence," Pomfrey admonished.
"As his guardian of record, I have a right to know," McGonagall stood firm.
Pomfrey turned her stern look, usually reserved for uncooperative or unruly patients, on her colleague. "Minerva- I want you to think long and hard before you play that card with me. Do you truly not trust my discretion on this matter or is satiating your curiosity really worth both of us losing that boy's trust? Because I can almost guarantee that he will never willingly speak to either of us again- particularly about matters regarding his health- if I betray what he told me. He stopped just short of making me swear an unbreakable vow before he was honest with me about certain things. You know how seriously I take my duty as a healer, but I am asking you as a friend to trust me and not push this," Pomfrey said, almost pleading.
McGonagall let out a long sigh. Looking into Poppy's earnest eyes, she sagged a little. "Very well. And of course I trust you, Poppy. It's just- I don't know how I can help the boy if I don't actually know what is wrong," she admitted.
"Thank you, Minerva," Pomfrey said, relieved. "And I understand how you feel. Even with the information I have, I find myself asking a very similar question. There are just some things that even magic cannot magically fix. And particularly in the case of young Mr. Doe, we are dealing with a lot of unknowns. He has been through a lot- both this year and likely much beyond- but do remember that he has also proved himself to be incredibly resilient. He was not put in your house by mistake, Minerva. I believe that maybe you can help him most by remembering that his struggles do not make him weak, but his overcoming them makes him amazingly strong," she said bracingly. After a moment, Pomfrey continued, "I can share with you one thing that we discussed, Minerva. At the beginning of this term, Harry and I had a long talk about grace- both giving and accepting it. Our mission should be to help him understand that it is okay to hurt and need help sometimes. Heck- we would both be out of the job if it weren't," she smiled. "But I think that is one place where we can help him with all of this."
McGonagall offered Pomfrey a smile that looked to be something between a 'thank you' and a grimace.
Just as she had anticipated, Madam Pomfrey had a pack of anxious Gryffindors all but breaking down her doors the instant they had consumed just enough food to have qualified as 'dinner'. Pomfrey actually stepped out into the hallway to speak with them so that they didn't come trampling in and disturbing her patients.
"Harry is going to be just fine, but he is resting now," she tried to reassure them. "And I do not want you lot waking him up. You may go in and visit, but not all at once. Please be respectful and mindful of all of my patients and keep your voices low and your nonsense to a minimum," she lightly chastised.
After a quick group huddle, it was decided that the girls would go in and visit first for a bit and then the guys would trade out and likely stay until Pomfrey forced them to leave. As Lily, Gretta, Milli, and Haleigh made their way over to Harry's bed, they were very relieved to see that he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. His trembling had basically ceased and though he was still a bit pale, he looked a lot better than the last time they'd seen him. They all had sad smiles on their faces as they looked down at their sleeping friend. Lily reached out a tentative hand and ran it comfortingly through his hair, much like she'd done when he'd first woken up. Harry nuzzled slightly into the warm contact, unintentionally melting their hearts.
After a while, the group took their leave, knowing the guys were probably going stir crazy out in the hall. They had all been an odd mix of uncharacteristically subdued and antsy all evening, but the girls had assumed that it was just their own way of trying to deal with their concern for their friend. So when they left the wing, the girls were not at all surprised to nearly be run over by the boys in their haste to enter and see Harry. The guys were similarly relieved to see Harry looking so much better as he calmly slept. It was an interesting experience for them- watching Harry sleep. Because he was essentially always the first one up in their dorm, it was a rare sight for them. And, unfortunately, usually when they were up before him, it was often because it was Harry's having a nightmare that woke them, so it wasn't really even an ideal time to sit back and observe.
It struck them once again just how much the boy really did look like James. With his eyes closed and their startling green tucked away, it was almost unsettling. Though Harry's face was a little thinner and paler perhaps than James', all of the rest of the features were there. Particularly in the setting of the hospital wing, it looked as though the older boy had been taken ill and was now laid out in the bed before them. But, at the same time, Harry had a distinctly innocent look to him when he was peacefully asleep. If he looked young on a good day, he might as well have been able to pass for a toddler when he slept. It was both heartwarming and sad.
The guys all settled in around Harry's bed, each pulling out some homework or other quiet activity to entertain themselves as they sat vigil around their friend. Madam Pomfrey stopped by to check on Harry at one point and warned them that due to the Sleeping potion, it was quite possible that Harry might not wake up until morning. They kindly acknowledged her words, but made no move to leave.
A little while later though, Harry began to stir. His head snuggled into the pillow before he rolled over and blinked open heavy eyelids.
"Good morning, Bambi," Sirius grinned as he leaned down to be eye level with Harry, who had rolled over to directly face him. "Though- 'good evening' may be more accurate," he mused.
Harry snorted as he reached out a hand to grope around for his glasses. Once he had secured them, he pulled himself upright and rubbed his eyes tiredly before slipping on the frames.
"I don't remember what on earth went into that potion this morning, but remind me to stay the hell away from it in the future," Harry groaned and then fought to stifle a yawn. When he opened his eyes again, Harry was able to properly take in all of his friends gathered around his bed. His brow furrowed as he looked around the wing as well and noted the darkness outside of the windows. "What time is it?" He asked.
James checked his watch before answering, "Almost 7:30."
Harry was a little surprised that the others were still visiting that late. He brought a hand up to rub at his aching scar as he cast about for something to say.
Sirius, seeing where Harry's hand was heading, quickly reached out to stop the other boy. But when his fingers closed around Harry's arm, he jumped, sharply pulling his arm out of the other boy's grasp, and leaned away from him. Seeing the slight fear in Harry's eyes, Sirius scrambled to explain himself and try to soothe the situation. "Sorry- I just- Earlier, you were, uh, trying to scratch yourself again. And I just didn't want you to hurt yourself," he finished quietly, looking away.
"Oh." Harry had caught the flashes of unease and worry in Sirius' eyes before he averted his gaze and did his best to reign in his knee jerk reaction. "Sorry," Harry apologized, both for right then and earlier that day. "I- uh- just have a bit of a headache. And I promise, none of that now," he said as he carefully raised his hand back up to press the heel of his palm into his forehead. Harry was still leaning a little away from Sirius, but was mindful of keeping his fingers well away from his face too.
Watching the whole, awkward exchange, once again served to underscore Harry's touch aversion. And in the hours of silence that they had spent sat in the infirmary, waiting for Harry to wake up, James had found himself stewing on that very topic. Why had Harry let Lily touch him when no one else could? Sirius was by far the most tactile of their little group and had been slowly but surely working his way through Harry's defenses on that front, but clearly even he still could not get away with it just any time- and particularly not when Harry had just woken up.
Without really meaning to, James' thoughts burst forth and he blurted, "You don't like Lily, do you?"
Harry opened his eyes and a look of confusion settled over his face as he turned to face James. "Um- What?"
Well, he was already in it, so he might as well satisfy his curiosity and satiate his worry. "You don't- uh- like Lily, do you?" James asked much more hesitantly.
Harry pulled a disgusted face that would've been funny under different circumstances. "No," he said adamantly. "I mean- not like that. I promise. She's great, but just as a friend." James looked relieved. "Uh, why do you ask?" This seemed like a very odd time for James to be getting insecure about his standing with Lily and Harry was hard pressed to think himself much of a threat, laying, once again, in a bed in the hospital wing.
James looked relieved now, and maybe even a little embarrassed, but his face fell into an uneasy expression at Harry's question. "You, uh- She was the only one that you'd let touch you, after…" He trailed off.
Oh. Harry's cheeks flushed. He'd been pretty out of it when he came to and he'd honestly thought he'd been dreaming that bit. It was the kind of thing that he'd always longed for as a kid- someone to be there to comfort him when he needed it. But seeing James get nervous once again at his silence, Harry decided to tell him the truth. "I- uh- I actually thought she was my mother. I kind of thought I was still dreaming," Harry admitted quietly, his gaze downturned towards his lap. An air of grief settled over the group at Harry's words, everyone still vividly able to recall the painful night of the 'my parents died on Halloween' revelation.
Madam Pomfrey ended up bustling over and sending the guys on their way back to Gryffindor tower soon. Harry gave them all a little smile and promised to see them tomorrow as they left. Pomfrey made Harry eat a little something- since he had slept through dinner- before telling him to go back to sleep. With little else to do, Harry decided to just give in. Technically he did have his bag and could've tried to read or something, but with the way his head was still pounding, that sounded like it would be more troture than entertainment right then. To his pleasant surprise, Harry fell asleep rather quickly, considering how much sleep he had already gotten that day. It was like his body was a desperate sponge trying to absorb all of the rest it could while it was available.
Harry dreamt that he was in Herbology. Professor Kerner and Professor Sprout were up at the front arguing over the proper care and handling of Mandrakes. Then, Hermione showed up and took over the lecture whilst the two professors continued to argue like small children behind her. Harry couldn't help but smile proudly at his friend as she took charge and the class easily accepted her authority. After the lesson ended, Harry hung back to congratulate Hermione on her first successful class as the new Herbology teacher. She beamed at him, but then took points for his 'dawdling' and dismissed him.
As Harry stepped out of the greenhouse, he found himself not in the snowy grounds of Hogwarts, but on a dark, cold street he did not recognize. Short lamp posts lined the lane emitting dim light that reflected off of the banks of dirty snow piled along the edges of the road. Taking a sharp left turn, he entered what appeared to be a small park. Low, ornate benches were dotted along the winding pathway while twisting, gnarled trees formed a sort of tunnel where they connected overhead. He was forced to stoop as he walked, which only served to increase his already simmering anger. It was like this whole place was designed for children. It kind of reminded Harry of a nursery school classroom where all of the chairs and tables were scaled down for their little occupants, but still the teacher loomed full-sized.
How despicable- how arrogant- of these creatures to have designed this place to not be able to accommodate a proper wizard. Oh, this was just cementing their fate. Until now, he had been willing to tolerate their 'neutrality' in the war, but let it be known that the goblins cast the first stone. By not allowing his faithful servant to make her deposit, that filthy goblin- Polgutt, he spat in his head- had condemned his entire race. Neutrality was one thing, but defiance would not be tolerated. And the little teller was about to learn that lesson and pay for his impudence.
After a few more turns through the inane park, he walked briskly down a row of houses along the edge of the greenery. Stopping short just in front of one of the little cottages, he glanced behind himself just long enough to see three black-cloaked figures hurrying to join him. With a cruelly satisfied smile curling his lips, he raised his wand with a pale hand and easily tore through the flimsy wards around the home. The small door swung open to admit them.
The goblin and his family were all dragged out of their beds and bound in the living room. Polgutt was crying and pleading with the hooded figures to let his wife and children go.
The shortest of the dark group stepped forwards, tutting, "Now, now- Where would be the fun in that?" She pulled her hood down to reveal her face to the captives. Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes glinted with manic delight at the palpable fear in the room. She took a deep breath as if she could actually smell it and wished to savor the sweet aroma. "I think this time, I would like to make a withdrawal," she cackled. Polgutt quaked in his bindings.
What then happened inside of the little house could only be described as a massacre. They forced Polgutt to watch as they slaughtered his family before finally finishing him off too. By the end of it, there was barely enough left to be recognized as a body and that was before they set the house aflame. As the small group stepped calmly back out onto the walking path, the smoke followed them out, making it appear as though they were emerging from a mystic fog rather than the ashes of an atrocity. Bellatrix did the final honors of throwing the Dark Mark into the sky above the soon-to-be ruins of the family home before the four dark figures twisted on the stop and vanished into the night.
Harry's eyes flew open and he knew immediately that he was going to be sick. He quietly, but desperately scrambled out of bed and bolted for the toilet. He made it just in time to not make a mess on the floor. Thankfully, he'd managed to close the door behind him so as not to disturb the others sleeping out in the wing, but he hadn't bothered with the lights, which was actually probably for the best with the way his head was pounding in time with his racing heart. Harry wasn't quite sure how long he spent bent over the toilet bowl losing all of the contents of his stomach and then some.
Of all of the horrifying shit that Harry had seen over the years, nothing- absolutely nothing- held a torch to watching the Lestranges torture and butcher those children, laughing all the while. Never in a million years did Harry ever imagine that he could picture his parent's deaths as anything other than the worst possible experience, but as he sat, sprawled on the bathroom floor that night, he had the fleeting thought that the Killing curse may have actually been a mercy. At least their deaths were quick and presumably painless. And that sent a bone-deep shiver down his spine that ricocheted painfully through his entire body.
Harry didn't dare try to move as just when thought he may have finally composed himself a little, another image would flash through his mind from his dream and set him off once again into another round of painful dry heaves. His sides hurt, his throat burned, and bitter tears stung at the corners of his eyes.
Madam Pomfrey, as always, was up early. She liked to have her morning rounds finished before breakfast- that way, she was able to keep her patients on their regular schedules as much as possible and could release those well enough in time to start their days without being behind. She'd had more patients than usual that week- an illness seemed to have hit Hufflepuff house rather hard, resulting in a lot of Pepper-Up potions being handed out and a few unfortunate cases that had required inpatient treatment. A young Slytherin girl had slipped on the icy stairs the previous day and gotten a pretty good knock to the head. To top it all off, there had been an incident in the 4th year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Potions class two days prior that had resulted in what the matron would call the 'light poisoning' of a couple of students. They were recovering nicely, but she still needed to monitor them for another day to make sure that they were fully in the clear. And then, of course, there was Harry.
Since none of her patients were critical, she simply started her rounds at the end of the row nearest her office and made her way down it, casting the necessary spells to check on everyone's status and gathering any necessary potions. She decided not to wake anyone as she knew none of them so far would be fit to be discharged that morning, so it was better that they get the much needed, healing rest.
As Pomfrey rounded on the second row of beds, her brow furrowed. By her count, she was missing one patient. She quickly moved further down the row, eyes scanning more carefully to note who was in each bed in order to deduce who was missing. Her heart clenched as she realized that one of the last beds in the row had crumpled sheets, but no occupant, and it hit her who exactly was gone. Harry. She rushed over to find that the bed was very much cold, so he had been out of it for a while. But there were wards and alarms that should have notified her if he had tried to sneak out or leave the infirmary in the night.
And then she saw that his glasses were still sitting on the bedside table and her concern increased another few notches. She knew just how blind Harry was without his glasses, so if he had tried to leave or go do something, there was no way he would have left them behind. With a wave of her wand, Pomfrey verified that the wards were still in place on the doors and windows of the wing (because she honestly wouldn't have completely put it past the boy to dismantle them in order to escape if he were properly motivated). Then, she planted her hands on her hips and scanned the room, racking her brain for where he might have gone. There really weren't a lot of potential hiding places in there. She even checked under the bed, just for good measure. Beyond the rows of beds, there was really only her office- which she herself had entered through that morning and she really thought she would have noticed if the boy was hanging out in there- and- duh!- the bathroom.
Pomfrey was shaking her head at herself for panicking when there was such an obvious answer, but as she drew closer to the closed door, her anxiety began creeping back up as she noticed that there was no light spilling out from the crack underneath the door. She managed to restrain herself just enough to approximate a calm knock on the door, but when she received no response from within, she quickly grabbed the handle and turned the knob. Pomfrey wasn't sure if she was relieved or not that the door wasn't locked, but the fleeting thought was soon wiped from her mind by the sight that greeted her on the other side of the door. Harry was on the floor, slumped against the toilet, in a position that loudly spoke to having been throwing up. His face was nearly as pale as the porcelain it was resting on. His eyes were closed and appeared almost sunken with the dark circles around them.
Pomfrey rushed forwards. On the floor next to Harry, she placed a gentle hand on his face and was relieved to find it slightly cold rather than burning hot. While not necessarily a good sign, per say, it was definitely preferable to the alternative. As she slid her hand around to feel for his pulse on his exposed neck, Harry jerked awake. Pomfrey, with some impressively fast reflexes, managed to shoot a hand out just in time to prevent Harry from smacking his head into the stone wall behind him.
"Shhh- It's okay, Harry. We are just in the infirmary, in the bathroom. Everything's okay," she tried to soothe.
Harry looked around briefly before his squinting gaze settled on Madam Pomfrey for a moment. Then he let out a little groan and put his head back down on his arm that was still resting on the toilet seat. Concern once again mounting, Pomfrey cast a quick diagnostic spell, but beyond a slightly low temperature and mild dehydration- which were to be expected if the boy had, as she assumed, spent much of the night on the cold bathroom floor, vomiting- the spell came back clean.
"Harry-" Pomfrey spoke again. "Can you hear me?" He made a sort of low humming noise in response that she took as a 'yes'. "Do you think you can sit up for me?" There was a long moment of silence that stretched out after that question to the point that Pomfrey was worried that Harry might have fallen asleep again- or passed out. But then he took a deep breath and did as she'd requested. Pomfrey smiled at him and said, "Thank you. Do you still feel nauseous?" Once again, Harry didn't respond right away, but eventually he gave a small negative shake of his head. "Do you know what- set it off?" Pomfrey asked carefully.
Harry's lips actually quirked into the ghost of a sad smile at the question. "Some particularly sick shit," he said in a rather raspy, quiet voice.
Pomfrey's eyes grew sad at that statement. After a centering breath, she said, "How about we get you back to bed- you must be freezing."
Harry didn't say anything more, but he allowed Pomfrey to help him to his feet and guide him back out into the main room and to his abandoned bed. She cast a subtle warming charm on his sheets before depositing Harry back in the bed. She summoned him a glass of water and a glass of pumpkin juice and had him take at least a few small sips of each.
"Is there anything else I should know about?" Pomfrey asked kindly, but firmly, looking down at Harry.
Harry looked a little sheepish, but managed to tell her, "No, ma'am. I just feel a little- gross. And sore. And my throat hurts a bit. But I think those are the normal consequences of throwing up and then accidentally falling asleep on the bathroom floor," he joked weakly.
Pomfrey pursed her lips at this attempt at humor, but nodded nonetheless. "Very well. Rest now. Let me know if you need anything else and I'll be back around later to check on you later, okay?" Harry nodded as he sank tiredly back into the pillow.
With one last look to reassure herself that Harry was comfortably resting, Pomfrey moved on and made quick work of the rest of her morning rounds. Just as she was wrapping up, four familiar boys slipped into her wing. With a sigh, the matron moved to intercept them as they attempted to make a beeline for Harry's bed.
"Gentlemen," she called in a quiet, but stern voice, effectively halting them in their progress towards their friend. As they turned to look at her, Pomfrey stepped closer, closing the gap between them as she told them, "Harry had a rather- rough- night, so he will not be joining you for classes today. You may come visit him after lessons if you wish- hopefully after some more rest he will be feeling up for visitors."
The boys looked disappointed and a tad upset at the news, but accepted it all the same. As the group turned to leave, James hung back and held up something for Pomfrey to take. "Do you think you could give this to him when he wakes up? We wanted to save him the trip back up to the tower, but at least he can have it if he wants to read later or something. You know how nutty he can get about missing schoolwork," James said with a lightly teasing tone.
Pomfrey accepted the book with a softer expression on her face. "I'll see that he gets it, Mr. Potter."
Harry awoke again around lunch time and Pomfrey forced him to eat. She sat with Harry and watched as the boy picked at his food rather than put it in his mouth.
"Are you sure that you are feeling okay?" She asked as Harry shredded the crust off of the sandwich on his plate.
Looking up, Harry gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. "Yes, ma'am," he said as he finally picked up the sandwich and took a bite. He chewed it perhaps longer than was strictly necessary before choking it down. The food tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
"And yet, I find it hard to believe that given our last few experiences with these 'dreams'." Her tone was light, but the accusation rested heavy in the words.
With a sigh, Harry put down the sandwich again and instead picked up the glass that was resting on the tray and began fiddling with the straw in it. "Really-" Harry insisted, though his voice sounded kind of defeated. "This one didn't- hurt, like the others. It was just awful."
"Even so- simply talking about it might help," she suggested.
Harry looked at her with a sideways glance before reaching over to the bedside table and flipping open his Herbology book that James had dropped off. Tucked inside the front cover was a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. Harry grabbed the newspaper and plopped it on the bed in front of Madam Pomfrey. He pointed directly at the main headline sprawled across the front page. It read: Goblin Family Annihilated in Gruesome Attack- Dark Mark Spotted Above Remains of Home. "That is what he was doing last night. Are you still sure you want all of the gorey details? Because I cannot imagine how recounting that will be good for either of us," he said dully.
Pomfrey's eyes widened in horror as she read and reread the headline. After a few moments, she managed to school her expression a little and pointed out, "Talking about it won't make it any more or less true. And while saying it out loud may not be- overly pleasant- for anyone involved," she admitted, "I also cannot imagine that having such things trapped in your head is overly pleasant either, hmm?"
Harry just averted his eyes and returned to diligently destroying his sandwich. After a few more minutes of silence, Harry's soft voice startled Pomfrey. "The article mentioned that there was some kind of Ministry raid a few nights ago and that had pissed him off. But I don't think they found what he was hiding. Whatever it was, after the raid, he tried to move it- put it in a vault at Gringotts- but the teller refused it entry. That's what he found out yesterday and why he was using the Cruciatus curse. The- the father of that family was the teller who-" Harry's voice cut off as his throat felt like it was closing up, choking off his words. "They weren't just killed, they were-" His voice broke again. "He had kids. His daughter couldn't have been-" Harry threw down the tatters of his sandwich in favor of bringing his hands up to pull at his hair instead. The last words he got out were no longer wavering, but spat in a cold, dead tone. "And they were laughing. Those sick bastards were fucking laughing."
Fighting to hold back her own tears, Pomfrey reached out and gently disentangled Harry's fingers from his hair. She rubbed soothing circles into the back of his hands as she coaxed them to loosen their grip on the dark strands. As she did so, her thumb kept running over the slightly raised scar on the back of his right hand, serving as a painful reminder to the matron that Harry likely didn't just sympathize with what he had seen, but, on some level, he probably empathized with it too. The thought turned her stomach once more.
Once Pomfrey managed to pry Harry's hands free, she didn't immediately let go. While she yearned to hug the boy and wished that she could just envelope him and protect him from everything, using her own body as a shield, she knew that was just not possible. So she settled for keeping a steady hand resting atop one of Harry's slightly shaking ones.
After some tense negotiations and a near blood oath that he would eat a full, proper meal at dinner down in the Great Hall, Harry was able to convince Madam Pomfrey to release him into the care of his friends. And although they were keeping worried and watchful eyes on him, Harry was just happy to be out of the hospital wing once again. Also, his awful headache had finally faded. Apparently brutal murder really took the edge off for Tommy.
Despite it being a Friday, the Gryffindor 6th years opted for a calm night in. They mostly sat around in the common room, hanging out and playing games. The guys had taken to playing cards a lot more often again now that they realized that Harry could count it towards his 'exercises'. At one point, James even transfigured them a dart board and they had a mini tournament to see if anyone could beat Harry. The answer turned out to be a resounding 'no'.
Harry smirked as he wiped the floor with Gretta, his last challenger. "It's actually a lot easier to play when you're standing," Harry mused before smiling at Gretta. "Don't feel too bad- those two couldn't beat me when I was sitting two meters behind them over break either. And that was back when I'd never even played before." Gretta snorted.
"Rubbish! No way you'd never played before," Sirius interjected, dismissively.
Harry looked offended. "That'd be a pretty stupid thing to lie about. And unlike some people, I have no need to embellish the truth- my talents speak for themselves," he said, turning his nose up in the air. When Sirius continued to eye him disbelievingly, Harry rolled his eyes and added, "It's not like I said I'd never thrown something before- just not a dart, specifically. It's just a matter of good aim." Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and said, "See?" Before, quick as lightning, he threw the rainbow hacky sack he always carried around at Sirius, hitting the other boy square in the nose from all the way across the room.
Sirius was frozen in shock, his face scrunched back and slightly cross eyed. Everyone else burst out laughing as Harry summoned the little ball back before it could be snatched up and thrown again in retaliation. He wasn't trying to start a war, just prove a point. Sirius soon recovered and glared goodnaturedly at Harry.
"Clearly you lot have just never been bored enough to resort to throwing rocks at a wall for a few hours. You've just got about a decade's worth of target practice to make up for," Harry teased. No one really knew how to respond to that. It was another one of the few tantalizing details that Harry had let slip about his past. And this one was just- odd.
They all decided to call it a relatively early night. It had been a rather stressful few days, but everyone was just happy that Harry was back and seemed to be doing just fine. They had all been particularly worried after the guys had shown up a little late to breakfast, sans Harry, and told the others that Madam Pomfrey hadn't even let them see him that morning- let alone that she was not ready to release him. But then Harry had turned up for dinner, looking a little pale, but acting much himself. Harry told them that he'd gotten a little ill during the night, so Pomfrey had insisted on keeping him a bit longer, but that it had passed and he was fine.
So the guys and girls went their separate ways up to their respective dormitories and got ready for bed. Harry was understandably a little wary as he dragged his feet a bit before turning in. Given that he'd only had about a 50/50 shot between restful sleep and some of the most horrific visions he'd ever had, Harry was not super eager to jump into bed. He decided to take a proper shower, hoping that the warm water would get him to relax and maybe help ward off some of the more unpleasant recent memories. After slowly brushing his teeth and putting on his pajamas, Harry soon found himself out of ways to delay the inevitable and made his way back out into the dormitory. The other guys were all lounging around, apparently ready for bed, but they seemed to be waiting for Harry.
Both annoyed and comforted by their slightly ridiculous behavior, Harry wished the others a good night and crawled into bed. He made a point of not quite pulling the hangings all of the way closed, so that the others would have a visible reassurance that Harry hadn't put up any kind of silencing spell, as he knew would be their fear. Harry burrowed under the warm covers and basked in the comfort of the soft bed. He would never admit it to anyone, but the beds were one of Harry's favorite things about Hogwarts. The pillows were always wonderfully plush, and the sheets perfectly warm in the winter, yet cool to the touch on the hot nights as well. He'd always wondered if that was actual magic or just the beauty of high-quality linens.
Harry lay awake for a while, focusing on the feel of his bed, doing his best to ground himself in the present and not let his mind wander too far. He eventually found himself meditating, like he'd been doing since break, but rather than actively trying to search for his inner truth or whatever, Harry was just aiming for a perfectly blank slate, floating on a cloud of warmth and comfort. As he finally began to drift, his mind fell back to the last time he'd found himself in such a state and he felt the ghost of soft hands running through his hair. At that point, Harry wasn't really awake or aware enough to fully process the thought, but his body accepted the phantom gesture as his head pressed just a fraction deeper into the pillow. For the first time in a long time, Harry truly relaxed.
He felt safe and content as that usually hollow place tucked away behind his heart once again filled with warmth. With each passing heartbeat, the warmth seemed to grow and spread. The feeling pulsed in time with the blood flowing through his veins, easing its way through his body. It was like a pleasant tingle was slowly enveloping Harry in its protective, soothing heat- like that slightly indescribable feeling you get when someone gives you a good hug. As the warmth took over, Harry let go and fell asleep.
The next morning, the other boys were not sure whether they should be happy or concerned that Harry was actually sleeping in. They had not been awoken in the middle of the night as they had all been anticipating and in the light of morning, it actually looked like Harry hadn't moved all night. His hangings were still pulled mostly shut, but they could see the lump of his form underneath the mound of covers through the gap. His soft, snuffling breaths could even be heard in the quiet dorm.
They wanted to let him sleep as much as possible, but as the end of breakfast drew near, after a brief, quiet debate, it was decided that they should wake Harry up in favor of eating three full meals that day. As the guys all exchanged cautious looks, daring one another to be the one to attempt to rouse their last roommate, Sirius finally let out a dramatic huff and rolled his eyes.
Stepping forwards bravely, he threw back at the others, "You lot act like he isn't pint-size. He doesn't actually bite, you know?"
"Yeah, but those boney elbows of his still hurt," James groused.
Sirius snorted and fearlessly pushed on. "Come on, Bambi- rise and shine!" He called as he pulled back the hangings. The lump buried under the blankets did not move. ""Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!" Sirius poked at it for a moment with little success before bracing himself and yanking the cocoon of covers back. None of them were prepared for the sight that met their eyes.
There, curled up in the bed where they'd expected Harry to be, was not a boy, but a fawn. When the covers were suddenly removed, the creature woke with a start. Bright green, panicked eyes looked frantically around as the little deer scrambled to get to its feet. Unfortunately, hooves and spindly legs and tangled sheets were not a good combo and the animal only succeeded in scaring itself further as it felt trapped with many large shapes looming around it. Finally, after much frenzied kicking, the deer managed to free itself, but as it pulled free, its flailing and momentum caused the poor thing to roll and topple right off of the bed.
Luckily, Sirius had jumped back when he'd drawn back the blankets to reveal the surprise creature, so he avoided getting trampled by the distraught little deer. The others, too, had taken an instinctive step back when the animal had begun thrashing, allowing the fawn enough space next to the bed to clamber unsteadily to its feet after hitting the floor. Once it was standing with all four legs underneath it, the little creature did the one thing its instincts had been screaming at it to do since it awoke- it bolted. Now, there weren't a lot of options for places to run and hide in the dormitory. Thankfully the main door was still closed, so the fawn couldn't leave, but the door to the attached bathroom had been left open. The creature made a beeline for the exit and in the blink of an eye, it disappeared into the darkness beyond the doorway.
"Holy shit," Sirius breathed, staring after fawn.
"I think we scared him," Peter said unhelpfully, drawing incredulous looks from all of his friends.
"No shit," Remus snorted, uncharacteristically harsh.
"He- He-" James stuttered, unable to fully process what had just happened.
Sirius let out a low curse. "He probably has no idea what's happening." Turning to face the others, he looked between James and Peter. "You know how disorienting it is when you first achieve your animagus form. And I'm guessing he didn't mean to even do it, since he was asleep," Sirius pointed out. "Imagine if you'd woken up one morning not in your body." The others paled slightly at hearing it put that way.
"Shit," James cursed this time, bringing a hand up to rake through his hair. "And he probably can't see either since he wasn't wearing his glasses when he transformed."
There was a moment of silence as they all tried to grapple with the situation and come up with what to do next.
"We can't just leave him in there," Peter said after a minute, glancing anxiously over at the still open bathroom door. They hadn't seen or heard any movement since the little deer had run in there.
"But I think all of us going in there will just make it worse," Remus pointed out.
After another pause, James said quietly, "I think you should go, Pads."
"Me?" Sirius asked, a little surprised by the suggestion. Not that he wasn't a good friend or anything, but calm, gentle, and tactful were three things he had never been accused of being. And they seemed like the kind of things that this situation was calling for.
"Yeah," James said with a little more confidence. "I think Harry is most comfortable around you. He- tolerates you being in his space more than basically anyone else. Besides maybe Lily," he amended, "but I'm not about to suggest we go grab the girls without at least trying to calm him down first."
Sirius looked at James closely before giving a slow nod- not necessarily agreeing with what he said, but agreeing to try at least. Tying his hair back in a small attempt to look a little less wild and intimidating to the tiny fawn, Sirius took a deep breath before cautiously stepping over the threshold into the restroom. The lights were off, but he didn't dare to light the torches, knowing that the sudden change would likely just serve to further frighten the little creature they now assumed to be Harry. Instead, he stepped inside the room and waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. When things finally started to come into focus, the sight before him just about broke his heart.
Harry was curled up in the far corner of the room, as far away from the doorway as possible, under the counter. His legs were tucked up underneath his body as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible and he was pressed firmly back into the corner and hunkered down on the floor. Even his big, fuzzy ears were pinned flat against his head. He was frozen so still, Sirius would've believed he was a statue if not for the big, green eyes staring at him and the slight flare of his nostrils as he pulled in quick, short breaths.
"Oh, Bambi," Sirius said in a low, sad voice. Harry's ear twitched at the sound, but he gave no other indication that he'd heard the words. Making sure to keep his hands out in front of him in what he hoped was a placating gesture, Sirius slowly walked forwards and crouched down next to Harry. Once he was within arm's length of the little deer though, Harry started trying to scramble backwards again, though he had nowhere to go, so he just ended up sort of pivoting his head farther away from Sirius and pressing the side of his body up against the far wall. Sirius quickly backed off a little at that reaction and tried talking to him again, hoping maybe Harry would recognize his voice, even if he couldn't make out his face. "Shh- It's okay Harry. We're just in the dorm. Well, technically we're in the bathroom now. You seem to have finally achieved your animagus transformation- congrats. Leave it to you to make something so hard look so easy. You literally did it in your sleep," Sirius joked, more for his own benefit since he wasn't sure any of what he was saying was really getting taken in by the fawn.
As the words tumbled out of his mouth, Harry kept his wide eyes trained on Sirius, carefully tracking the big, noisey, dark figure. Meanwhile, Sirius was racking his brain- What on earth do you do with a terrified, blind baby deer? Well, what had he done with Prongs when he first transformed? Maybe he hadn't been a baby deer- or blind- but he'd been a teenaged one, so maybe the same principles still applied. James too had been all kinds of skittish after his first transformation. Must be those strong, fearsome deer instincts, Sirius mused. But Prongs was about ten times Harry's current size with a full rack of antlers- he had damn near destroyed half of the dormitory before the rest of them managed to calm him down enough to where the stag was no longer panicking and trying to trample them.
It really wasn't all that uncommon to get 'stuck' after your first few transformations, while you are still getting used to the process. Most people fall into one of two camps- either they struggle to maintain their second form and just keep changing right back to human or they struggle to get out of their second form and end up spending a fair bit of time as an animal for the first while after becoming an animagus. Peter had fallen into the first category while Sirius and James- and apparently Harry- fell into the second. Because Harry was of the second variety, Sirius knew that getting him calm was step one to getting him back to human. The conscious transformation takes a lot of concentration when you are first starting out, so there was no way Harry was going to manage it while he was so terrified and not thinking straight. But how best to go about that… A hug didn't really seem like a valid option right then.
With Prongs, they had managed to coax him into sitting down and then the others joined him. They had actually all just kind of sprawled out on the floor and hung out as normal until James was just able to change back eventually. So, something comforting and normal? Sirius himself had just loved being Padfoot from the first moment he transformed and he suspected that that was actually why he'd struggled to change back- he hadn't really wanted to. But he had a feeling that it was not the same case with Harry. The cowering little fawn was not exactly screaming 'having a great time over here'.
They had also figured out pretty quickly that Prongs preferred to interact with Padfoot more than he did Sirius. Despite some early alpha-male posturing and roughhousing, the boy's found that their animal forms were a bit more accepting of one another than they were of their human counterparts. Of course, once they had better control over their transformations and were able to think more clearly in their animagus forms, it became less of a problem, but at the beginning, it had been a useful trick.
And hey- at this point, it seemed worth a shot since human Sirius was not exactly making good progress with his Bambi. He was a little worried given how Harry had reacted to seeing his animagus form the last time, but Harry had also insisted that Padfoot didn't make him uncomfortable. So, with a deep breath, Sirius shifted, tipping forwards so that his heavy front paws landed on the ground. He stayed a respectful distance away from Harry, trying to gauge how the little deer felt about him. Very slowly, Harry lifted his head just a few centimeters and twitched his nose in Padfoot's direction. He didn't seem to be trying to run away again, so Sirius, very cautiously, scooted his way closer to Harry. He made sure to remain pressed flat against the ground, dragging his stomach across the cold stones, using his front paws to sort of army crawl his way forwards as his back end wiggled with the effort.
As he drew closer, Harry raised his head a little more and continued sniffing. Padfoot paused, just out of reach of the fawn and let out a soft whine. Harry's ears perked up and he tilted his head curiously at the form on the ground before him, but, thankfully, he didn't seem afraid. Taking all of that as a good sign, Sirius dared to crawl a little closer until he was able to lightly nuzzle the little deer. Harry froze again at first, but after a few seconds, he seemed to lean into the contact. Sirius continued to ease his way over until his whole body was lying alongside Harry's and the fawn almost disappearing into his long, shaggy fur. Harry burying his little face into Padfoot's coat and didn't seem eager to reemerge anytime soon. And Sirius was okay with that. The two of them just laid there comfortably together on the bathroom floor.
Sometime later, another figure entered the shadowy room. Sirius whipped his head around and bared his teeth at the intruder, letting out a low, threatening growl.
"Wow- Pads- It's just me," James' voice called out quietly into the darkness. "You guys have just been in here a while and we just wanted to make sure everything was okay…"
Sirius reigned himself in, surprised that he hadn't immediately recognized his best mate as 'not a threat'. Either the movement or the sound had disturbed Harry though, and Sirius felt him pull his head back out of its resting place in his fur. The spot was left feeling cold without Harry snuggled up there. The fawn raised his head to peer over Padfoot at the new figure backlit in the doorway. Something about it rang familiar within Harry's deer brain and he slowly got to his feet. Padfoot shifted just enough to let Harry stumble past on his shaky, uncoordinated legs, while still being close enough to try and catch him if he were to fall. But Harry seemed to be managing just fine once he was up. He slowly- cautiously- made his way across the small room while Padfoot stayed seated. Sirius was watching carefully- like a mama deer keeping a close eye on her baby while he explored. James remained calm, quiet, and very still as Harry approached him.
When Harry finally made it over to James, he stopped just short of the boy and leaned forwards to tentatively sniff him. After a minute or so, during which James and Sirius basically held their breath, Harry took a small step forwards and gently butted his head into James' leg. Slowly, James bent down and offered Harry his hand to sniff as well, which Harry readily accepted and then butted into as well.
"Hey, Harry," James said softly. "Sorry we scared you earlier, but, to be fair- you scared us too." James smiled down at the fawn. It was kind of amazing that Harry's eyes looked almost exactly the same in his animagus form as they did in his human one- just without the glasses that normally covered them up. "Do you think you might wanna come hang out in the dorm with everyone? It might help with the 'changing back' part. It did for me, at least, after my first transformation," James offered. "But you can also stay in here if you'd prefer," he added hastily, not wanting to force Harry into anything that would make him more uncomfortable as that would be rather counterproductive to the mission of reattaining a human Harry.
Harry cocked his head to the side in slightly adorable contemplation before dipping his head once in agreement and then craning his neck a bit in order to look around James and eye the open doorway behind him. Hearing the exchange and seeing Harry's willingness to leave, Padfoot got to his feet and made his way over to James. The two of them hung back and watched as Harry shuffled over to the door, sniffing suspiciously at the air, before sticking just his head out into the main room. Peter and Remus froze upon seeing Harry's little head peeking out from within the dark bathroom. Harry turned his head this way and that, eyes doing their best to scan the larger room before he took another tentative step into the new space.
Harry did a lap of the room, taking his time to explore and sniff at everything. James and Padfoot emerged from the bathroom just after Harry had moved out of the doorway and had rejoined their other two friends who still stood frozen in the center of the room. All four of them watched Harry curiously. The little deer seemed fascinated by everything in the room, though they could all understand where he was coming from. Most animal senses were way more sensitive than a human's. And since Harry couldn't really see right then either, it was probably making the whole experience just that much more intense. They all had to bite back their laughs when Harry reached Peter's trunk and he recoiled his head back with what could only be described as a look of disgust on his furry face before he quickly moved on, not bothering to sniff anything else in the boy's area of the room.
"Oh, come on- Padfoot's feet are worse than mine," Peter whined quietly. Padfoot playfully nipped at Peter's fingers for his comment, causing the others to chuckle.
Once Harry finished his thorough investigation of the perimeter of the room and found himself back at the door to the bathroom, he turned his attention back towards the dorm's other occupants. The guys had all sat down at some point while Harry was distracted. Harry made his way over towards them and did another lap- this time around the outskirts of their seated group. He carefully sniffed at Peter and Remus before making his way around and settling down on the floor next to Padfoot once again.
It was Remus who broke the silence. "I'm assuming you can understand us, right?" He asked in an even tone. Harry nodded. "Can you see?" Harry hesitated for a moment before tilting his head side to side in a sort of 'so-so' gesture.
"Well, I promise when you transform with your glasses on that won't be a problem," James assured. The little deer looked almost relieved, if that was possible. It hadn't really occurred to Harry that he wouldn't be able to wear his glasses in his animagus form and he'd been a little worried that he might just have to go without since his clothes had disappeared without a trace when he'd transformed, he thought maybe his glasses would too.
"You picked a good time, though," Remus added. "We've got all weekend to help you get sorted out. It was quite the task to keep coming up with excuses as to where everyone was when these three kept getting stuck- or, I guess in Peter's case, seeming to randomly disappear because he would turn into a rat at the drop of a hat for weeks. It was probably a good thing that they had all spent years cultivating quite the reputation beforehand or else I think the professors would've been wildly suspicious pretty quick," Remus smiled.
"Though, some of us should at least turn up at lunch or else the girls will be barging in here pretty soon- if not McGonagall," Peter pointed out.
"Wormtail's right," James conceded, checking the time. Apparently it was getting rather late in the afternoon as he then moved to get up. "The three of us will head down and bring you guys something back, okay?" Harry and Padfoot both nodded.
"You guys might wanna go hang out in the bathroom again while we're gone- just in case someone does decide to come barging in," Remus added.
"We need to get our story straight for why Harry and Sirius aren't with us," Peter tossed out as he stood to join James.
James brought a hand up to dramatically stroke his chin, as if deep in thought. "I'm sure we can come up with something," he smirked. "Since none of us were at breakfast, and it's Saturday, we can just say that we were having a lie in," James began. "Now, as for why those two are missing lunch too…" He paused to look down contemplatively at the dog and fawn curled up on the floor, his eyes then wandering over towards the still open bathroom door. James then snapped his fingers, raising one of them in a 'eureka' gesture. "We'll tell everyone that Sirius got his foot stuck in the toilet and that Harry hung back to help him get it out," he said in a tone that conveyed just how reasonable he thought the explanation was.
"Plausible," Remus said thoughtfully.
Padfoot let out a low, huffy bark as he wrinkled his snout at the suggestion.
"Oh, come on Pads. You know it's just the right amount of ridiculous that for us, it very well could be true, but also just gross enough that no one should want to ask too many questions- particularly over a meal- or would dare to try and come verify the story. Admit it- I'm a genius!" James preened.
It would've been an easy out to just tell people that Harry wasn't feeling well and wanted to rest and that Sirius had stayed back to keep him company, but James didn't want to use that excuse for a variety of reasons. For one, where was the fun in taking the easy way out? For two, he knew how much Harry hated for people to think he was weak or for them to try and give him sympathy, which would be sure to follow when he finally emerged. And for three, this way, he got to make fun of Sirius. It was a win-win-win!
Padfoot just rolled his eyes, but didn't offer any further protests to the tale. Instead, he got up and shepherded his fawn back into the bathroom.
James went over to light the torches and close the door behind them, so that from the outside it really did look like someone was in there. "We'll be back to spring you soon!" James called happily as he swung the door shut.
Down in the Great Hall, James, Remus, and Peter hadn't even sat down before they were being bombarded with questions.
"Where have you lot been?"
"Why weren't you guys at breakfast?"
"You're late."
"Where are Harry and Sirius?"
All of the girls had spoken at once, so it was impossible to tell what any one of them had actually said.
As he settled himself down on the bench, putting his hands up as if to calm a raving mob, James said, "Ladies, ladies- one at a time, please."
They all scoffed or rolled their eyes at that, but Lily then jumped in and asked, "Where have you been all day and what did you do to Harry?"
"Always with the accusations," James said in an exasperated voice. "What if it was Harry who was holding Sirius captive and not the other way around? Hmm?"
"Then I'd eat my left shoe," Lily said blandly.
James smiled at that before he donned a more appeasing tone and said, "We just had a bit of a lie in and a lazy morning. And Harry is not here out of the goodness of his own heart- not by any of our nefarious doing, thank you very much. He voluntarily agreed to help Sirius with a bit of a- situation he found himself in," James quasi-explained.
"Oh, do tell," Gretta leaned forwards presentationally, propping her elbow up on the table and bringing her chin forwards to rest on it, waiting with bated breath.
"He got his foot stuck in the toilet," James stated simply.
"How in Merlin's name did that happen?" Milli asked incredulously.
James gave a small shrug. "He wouldn't say. Acted like he was just walking along, tripped, and found his foot lodged in the loo." Leaning forwards and dropping his voice conspiratorially, he added, "I think he may've been trying to mess with the shower head and slipped. Justice was served, if you ask me," he said smugly.
"And why was Harry conscripted for the rescue effort? Seems like Sirius made his bed and should have to lie in it," Lily said cooly.
"Because I think we all know that he's the only one with a chance of actually, safely, getting Sirius out without us having to involve a teacher. And while I prefer my morning showers untampered with, I also think it is cruel and unusual punishment to sick McGonagall on Sirius like that." It was impressive how easily the story rolled off of James' tongue.
The girls couldn't help but nod in agreement with his last few points. And, as hoped, there were no further questions about the 'situation' back in the dorms. The three boys ate rather quickly before wrapping a couple of extra sandwiches up in some napkins and grabbing a few pieces of fruit to-go.
As they rose from the table, James told the girls, "Well, we're off to see how the rescue effort is going and determine if we need to call in reinforcements- wish us luck!"
"I think you'll probably be lucky to find Sirius still in one piece. I can only imagine what Harry could do to him if he was trapped and continued to be his annoying self this whole time," Lily warned.
James widened his eyes and dramatically gulped before turning to Remus and Peter. "We should hurry."
The three boys made their way quickly back to Gryffindor tower- not because they were worried about Sirius, but because they were worried about Harry. But as they pushed open the dormitory door, their worry were proven unnecessary when the sound of laughter met their ears. Human laughter- coming from the bathroom. James rushed forward and threw the door open.
The sight that greeted them was one of Harry- thankfully restored back to his fully human self- sitting on the bathroom counter, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and Sirius, across the way with his left foot sunk deeply into the toilet. James had stopped short in the doorway, caught quite off guard by the scene, and so Peter and Remus had run into him as they tried to enter the room as well. After a little shuffling, all five of them were fully in the room and able to properly appreciate what they were seeing. Well, Sirius maybe wasn't appreciating it.
"What the hell?" Peter asked, a bit dumbfounded.
Harry opened his mouth to explain, but he broke into another fit of laughter instead and ended up doubled over here he sat. As he eventually straightened up, trying to pull himself together, Harry said between laughs, "I- I managed to change back a little after you guys left, but then Pads," he jerked a thumb over at the boy half in the toilet, "started complaining about your choice of cover story. Claimed it 'wasn't even possible' and then tried to prove his point by-" But Harry's words were cut off by another fit and he ended up just gesturing towards Sirius and the rest of the story was rather self-explanatory, given the boy with his foot apparently actually stuck in the toilet.
The others joined in Harry's mirth and Sirius twisted around as best he could from his awkward position to glare at the lot of them.
"Well, I guess our cover story should hold up just fine," James teased.
"Will you lot stop laughing and get me out!" Sirius huffed.
Sobering up slightly, Harry said, "If someone could grab me my wand and my glasses, I think I can free him."
Remus slipped out and returned quickly with the requested items, handing them over to Harry. Happy to finally be able to see, Harry hopped off the counter and made his way over to Sirius. He walked around for a moment as if inspecting the situation before leaning back to face the other three and asking, "Who wants to pull?" Sirius cast him a wary look, but James and Peter eagerly stepped forwards. Remus was more than happy to hang back, just glad that for once it wasn't him that was having to get his friends out of a stupid situation and clean up their mess.
Harry bent down and tapped his wand on the outside of the toilet, casting a carefully controlled Engorgement charm that widened the pipe just enough to allow Sirius to pull his foot free and the others helped him all the way out of the toilet. Harry then restored it to its proper size and looked up. "Is your leg okay?"
Sirius grimaced slightly as he tested putting some weight on his newly freed foot. "I think I twisted my ankle when I fell over trying to pull it free at the beginning," he admitted.
"I guess we are going to be leaving quite the paper trail then. While I applaud your dedication, Pads- maybe next time try to reign it in just a skosh," James requested. "You don't always need to go quite so method with your acting," he teased as he stepped a little close to take some of Sirius' weight as they headed out of the bathroom and began the long trek to the hospital wing.
They actually crossed paths with the girls on the fifth floor. They were heading back up to the tower after lunch while the guys were heading down to the infirmary.
"I see the rescue mission was a success," Milli commented, eyeing Sirius.
"But not without casualties," Harry sighed, shaking his head sadly.
"I still think you should've left him," Lily informed Harry.
"I would've, but I really needed to piss," Harry told her apologetically, which earned a bark of laughter from Milli.
The girls ended up deciding to accompany them as well to the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey's heart just about dropped out of her chest when the entirety of the 6th year Gryffindors entered her wing once again. For a moment, she entertained the idea of just banning them from coming to her as a pack like that, but she quickly dismissed it. For one, it was not a good idea to discourage anyone from ever coming to the hospital wing and for another, it seemed to be the only way to get Harry there most of the time.
It was to her great relief though that she soon discovered that Harry was actually- for once- not the patient. She couldn't fully suppress her smile as he laughed when Sirius mumbled his way through explaining how exactly he'd injured his ankle. Soon, Pomfrey had it treated and wrapped up, but she wanted to keep him overnight to make sure the injury fully healed properly.
Once Sirius was settled, she turned to go check on her other patients, but caught sight of Peter pulling the bundle of sandwiches out of his pocket and moving to dole them out.
Turning back to face the group with her hands on her hips, Pomfrey said, "I know you did not bring outside food into my wing, young man." Peter let out a squeak and made to shove the bundle back into his pocket as quickly as possible.
"Awe- but we missed lunch!" Sirius whined.
"Then I can provide you with a proper meal, Mr. Black," Pomfrey informed him sternly as her eyes ran keenly over the gathered students. Peter looked embarrassed and most everyone else looked amused, but Harry was looking rather- guilty. And, she noted, he was standing with his hands tucked suspiciously behind his back. Unlike all of the others- save for Sirius- he was also the only one not wearing robes. Hmm… "Harry- you wouldn't happen to be part of the 'we' that missed lunch, would you?" Pomfrey raised a discerning eyebrow at him. He looked a bit like a deer caught in the headlights and didn't answer right away. "Would you care to show me what you are hiding behind your back?" She pressed.
His shoulder slumping slightly in defeat, Harry pulled his hands around and showed her the apple that he was holding. "Sorry," he muttered.
Pomfrey sent a look up towards the ceiling as if to say, 'lord, give me strength'. "Do not apologize- go eat," she commanded. "I trust you know where the kitchens are?" She said with the slightest hint of a smirk.
"Yes, ma'am," Harry admitted, returning the look.
"And take your escort with you," she added with a look at the too many people gathered around Sirius' bed.
"Not my escort this time," Harry replied cheekily.
"We'll make sure he eats," Lily promised, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him towards the exit, followed by the rest of the girls.
"I'll be back!" Harry called jokingly over his shoulder as he was whisked away.
Sirius snorted bitterly, "Somehow, I don't doubt that." Pomfrey sighed.
James, Remus, and Peter had faith that the girls would ensure that Harry really did eat, so they stayed back to keep Sirius company. Plus- they had things to discuss and this was the perfect opportunity to do so without Harry around. While a slightly more private locale would've been preferred- beggars can't be choosers. So they just leaned in close, kept their voices low, and had someone on lookout for when Pomfrey was making her rounds nearby.
Sirius decided to break the ice. "You guys have to admit- I kind of nailed it with the 'Bambi' nickname. We don't even have to change it! If anything, it's maybe a little too on the nose…" He mused.
"Self-fulfilling prophecy?" Peter proposed.
"You know that's not how animagi work," Remus said flatly.
James worried his lip for a moment before saying, "I've never even heard of a juvenile animagus form before. And here I thought it was sad enough that you just wanted to be happy and carefree, Pads. But to want nothing more than to be young and innocent…" James shook his head. "And he's only sixteen!" He hissed angrily. "That's…" James couldn't even put it into words.
But Sirius could- "Devastating." There were grim expressions all around.
They had all sensed the dark implications from the moment they'd seen the little fawn in Harry's bed that morning, but they'd spent the entire escapade trying to push away such dreary thoughts in favor of dealing with the situation at hand. But now, they were needing to face the truth in the cold light of day.
"I had honestly expected it to be something big or deadly or hella magical or something," Sirius admitted. "Like a phoenix or some kind of snake or a panther."
"But when you think about it, he kind of already is those things. Well, besides 'big', I guess," Peter pointed out, drawing surprised expressions from his friends. "What? Are you really going to tell me that you guys don't think that if Harry really wanted to kill you, he couldn't manage it just fine. Just because that's not who he is doesn't mean he's not entirely capable of doing it. And I'm pretty sure Mr. Wandless Non-Verbal Casting has more magic in his big toe than some of the students at this school have in their entire bodies. The kid seems to have nine lives already. And even on the 'big' front, if you've ever looked into his eyes when he is properly angry, you'd know he is also quite capable of making you feel about two centimeters tall. Hell- you've watched him stare down Slytherins and aurors. I really don't think he's that hung up on his size, despite not liking being teased about it."
It was easy to forget, even for his closest friends, just how much attention Peter was paying. He often came off as bumbling and a little slow and spineless to those around him, but he was anything but. In truth, he was observant as hell and actually a quick thinker. Yes, maybe he was a bit uncoordinated and not the most eloquent of speakers and that botched the delivery sometimes, but most people just wildly underestimated him. And it was often to their own detriment. Perhaps he ended up in the house of the brave because he had something to prove.
"Perhaps you have a point," Remus said.
"He only changed back once he was curled up with Padfoot again," Sirius told them quietly. "But once he was human again, he jumped away as if burned. It was like- 'Harry' wasn't allowed any comfort, but that's all 'Bambi' wanted. He wouldn't even let me come near him as Sirius when I first went after him, but once he let Padfoot approach, he all but disappeared into my fur, he was sitting so close, you know?"
"We've known about his self-sufficient streak for a while- is it really that much of a leap to think that it could extend to comfort and protection too? I mean, we know that his parents are dead. If he lost them and no one else was there to fill that role in his life, he very well could've been left to just fend for himself on all fronts. Clearly, he was forced to grow up too soon- being as hyper-capable as he is doesn't just happen, you know? So is it really crazy to think that he might secretly want the childhood that was probably taken away from him?" Remus asked.
James shook his head. "It's not crazy. It's just sad." His brows pinched together in consternation. "Fawns are like, baby baby deer. They lose their spots after just a couple of months. How old do you think he was when…" James trailed off.
"It might be more symbolic than that," Remus pointed out. "Fawns represent the purity and innocence of youth."
Sirius growled, "Innocence is one thing- but purity," he shivered, "I'm not sure I even want to entertain the implications of that."
"That word can be defined a lot of different ways," Remus tried to remind him, even as darkness clouded his own thoughts.
"I don't know guys- we've been playing things pretty reserved in regard to Harry since he showed up. But his nightmares seem to be getting worse, not better, and now this? This one might warrant an official 'awkward conversation'," James ventured and received a few solemn nods in response.
Sirius was set free on Sunday morning, completely mended. Some bitter part of Harry was a little disappointed that he wasn't forced to use crutches, at least for a little while. Misery loves company and Harry's was left feeling rather loney quite often. Sirius' friends came and picked him up after breakfast and the reunited group all headed back up to Gryffindor tower together.
While there was homework to be done, it was not really top priority for anyone right then. There were more exciting things to focus on. Namely, helping Harry get a better grip on the whole 'Bambi' situation. So, the rest of the morning was dedicated to the activity of Harry trying to control his transformation. It had also long ago been decided that such things should always be a morning activity, just in case the animagus ended up getting stuck, so that there would be maximum time to sort it out before their disappearance would become noticeable and problematic.
Once they reached the solace of their dormitory, Harry closed the door behind him and rounded on his friends with narrowed eyes. This was the first real moment that he'd gotten alone with them, in privacy, since the whole fiasco the previous morning and he had a bone to pick. James was the only one facing Harry and he froze when he noticed the other boy's heated look. His arm shot out to grab a hold of Sirius, who had his back to them, messing around with something in his trunk.
"What?" Sirius groused, trying to shake off his friend's too tight grip. When after a few moments he was still unsuccessful in freeing himself, Sirius huffed, turning around and then freezing as well upon seeing Harry's pissed off expression. Furrowing his brow, Sirius tried to ask, "Bambi-?"
But his question was cut off by an angry, "No," from Harry. His harsh tone grabbed the other's attention as well. Harry had seemed perfectly happy all yesterday afternoon and this morning, laughing and smiling along with the rest of them, but clearly the boy was a better actor than his friends gave him credit for. "Don't you 'Bambi' me," he warned, taking a threatening step forwards towards Sirius, pointing an accusing finger at him. But in the next instant, his temper seemed to drain out of him as he threw his arm up and cried, "Bloody hell! You guys could've warned me that it would be bloody terrifying! You all scared the shite out of me and it felt like my heart was going to explode, it was beating so fast. And everything was so loud and smelled funny and- ugh!" He began pacing and put his head in his hands, tugging at his hair slightly.
The others stood frozen for a moment- taken aback by the outburst. Remus, for once, felt completely out of his depth. As the only non-animagus in the room, he couldn't really appreciate how it felt to transform in the way that they did. The wolf- while similar in some aspects- was completely different in many others. Peter just looked a little panicked.
James was the first to recover, just relieved that Harry wasn't actually mad at them about something. At least, not the way he had feared when he'd first seen the other boy's expression. "Well, to be fair, people usually at least mean to do it. So while the experience is a bit overwhelming, it is at least expected,so you are slightly more prepared for it," he pointed out. "I've never heard of someone transforming in their sleep like you did."
"I'm gonna start sleeping with my glasses on if that becomes a thing," Harry said, exasperated. The whole situation felt kind of ridiculous.
"We really didn't mean to scare you like that," Sirius said more genuinely. "But as much as you hadn't expected to wake up in a different body, we hadn't expected to find not you in your bed either," he added in their defense.
Harry just tilted his head in acknowledgement of that point, but he did not look properly placated. "What the hell even was I?" He asked, looking up at the others curiously. They were all a bit shocked by the question. Usually, you had a pretty good idea of what your form was going to be by the time you got to the stage of actually transforming, so when you felt yourself in your new body, you knew what it was. Or you could just look in a mirror. But clearly Harry had skipped a few steps. As the silence dragged on, he added, "I mean, I could tell I had four legs and fur. And I think I was brown? But beyond that…" Harry shrugged.
"You were a fawn," James said quietly into the still air of the room. None of them knew how Harry was going to react to that information, so they had all been wary to be the one to break the news.
"Oh," was all he said, though he quickly turned his back to his friends in an effort to hide his face as he processed everything. His chest hurt a little bit as he thought about his dad. Not the James he was currently hiding from, but his own father- the inspiration behind his patronus. While he could admit to himself that it kind of made sense, Harry couldn't help but also think that he'd been right- his animagus form had turned out to be something pretty pitiful. How freaking useless, was the thought that echoed around in his head. Maybe he could kill Voldemort with his unbearable cuteness? Or just run away and hide in a forest for the rest of his days…
Pulling himself back together, Harry schooled his expression and turned back around to look at Sirius with a flat expression. "You're never gonna stop calling me 'Bambi', are you?" Harry joked, bringing relieved smiles to everyone's faces.
"Not a chance," Sirius grinned.
The boys all sat around on the floor as Harry tried to figure out how to get in touch with his 'inner deer' or whatever. But such things were much easier said than done and Harry was really struggling with it. He had absolutely no idea what he was really even supposed to be doing. Since he hadn't actually meant to transform- or even been aware of it at all- the first time, it wasn't like he could just try and recreate the sensation. His 'second heartbeat' seemed to have abandoned him, like so much else.
After about thirty minutes of futility, James decided to try and take advantage of the moment. "Maybe it would help if you walked us through what happened that night before you fell asleep and transformed? What did you do? What were you thinking about?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, not eager to talk about something so- private. And vulnerable. The feeling was oddly reminiscent of when he'd been struggling with the decision of whether or not to reveal his scars. But Harry knew that the others were just trying to help him and they had all proved time and time again that he could trust them. So, just like with his scars, Harry decided to get over himself.
Pulling his knees up to his chest, but making eye contact with James, Harry admitted, "Honestly, I was a little afraid to fall asleep." With a quick glance over at Remus, he explained, "I'd been having some particularly bad nightmares all week, even before the incident in Transfiguration. And then that night in the hospital wing, I had another one that was- pretty bad. I actually ended up puking my guts out half the night, so needless to say- I wasn't eager to have a repeat event. I just- really didn't want to even think about it. Any of it. So I was trying to clear my mind, I guess." Harry cringed at the reminder of his disastrous occlumency lessons with Snape the previous year, but quickly halted that train of thought and pulled himself back on track. "And, I don't know- I guess it must've eventually worked because the next thing I knew I was waking up with what I assume was Sirius towering over me, scaring the pants off of me," Harry shrugged.
"Do you remember how you felt right before you fell asleep?" Sirius asked.
Harry thought for a moment before saying, "I'm not really sure- I think I was kind of just drifting for a while… Maybe kind of warm? And relaxed? But- I mean- I was falling asleep, so I'm not sure if that's actually relevant to the transformation…"
"Well, I know, for me at least, getting control over my shift was about learning how to get in touch with the feeling of Padfoot. Or whatever that deep down part of you is that your animagus represents. That 'second heartbeat' is like the light feeling of Padfoot coursing through my veins. And once you can find it, it's just a matter of consciously calling it forward," Sirius tried to explain. He took a careful breath before plunging into the next bit. "For me, it's a matter of just- letting go. Padfoot is all about being happy and carefree. As him, there are no expectations or outside pressures or judgements. And while yes, he's big enough to fuck you up if need be, he's mostly just playful and free. So in order to transform, I have to allow myself to go to that place and embrace it. I kind of think of it like an escape sometimes," he admitted.
Impressed that Sirius was willing to bare his soul that much for Harry, James stepped up to take the focus off of his friend, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, but not as though he regretted opening up. "For me," James said and all eyes turned towards him, "I have to feel properly confident. Prongs is proud and intimidating and, well- mature," he admitted, calling himself out for not being that in his day-to-day life. "I just have to lean in and embrace all of that stuff. Let go of my insecurities- even if only for a short while."
Eyes automatically shifted to Peter once James stopped talking and he looked a bit nervous. Harry, recalling just how personal this conversation was getting and not wanting to force the boy into something he was uncomfortable with (and not quite sure he really wanted to know about the origins and motivations of Wormtail), averted his gaze quickly. But then the boy spoke, drawing Harry back in. "Rats are actually very intelligent and a symbol of prosperity," he began, sounding somewhere between defensive and proud before his voice dropped and became more timid. "I guess, for me, it's almost a matter of feeling worthy. Accepting that those things also define me and are a part of me. It may sound silly, but it feels good to be Wormtail- like I could do anything. He may not be big or intimidating, but he is a problem solver and has gotten me- us, actually- out of more than a few jams," he said with a knowing smile before adding, "Or maybe 'confidence' is the right word, like James said."
"So, you're all saying that I need to embrace my inner abandoned baby deer?" Harry said with a roll of his eyes that seemed more to himself than anyone else. The others did not miss his chosen adjective of 'abandoned'. "I'm not so sure it's worth it to gain the power to become something so useless," Harry muttered, looking down at his knees.
"Do you really doubt our creativity so much as to think that we cannot come up with countless scenarios where a fawn would come in handy?" Sirius said in mock affront, trying to cheer Harry up. Harry let out a small snort at his words and gave Sirius a little smile that said, 'thanks for trying'.
"And not to be a downer, but just because you choose to ignore it, doesn't mean that it's not a real part of you. Arguably, ignoring it is probably what made it your 'inner truth' rather than your 'outer' one," Remus dared to point out.
"Plus, if you don't learn to control the shift, it might keep happening on accident. And I'm guessing that you also don't want a repeat of waking up as Bambi again…" James warned.
While Harry could acknowledge the truth in what they were all saying, that didn't mean he had to like it. "This just sucks," Harry grumbled, looking down once again.
"Why not lean in like Pads does?" Peter asked, surprising Harry. "No offense- but you really seem like you could use some escapism, mate. You don't need to be any stronger or smarter or more capable- you've got all of those things covered already. What you need is to relax. Let go. Allow yourself to just be a kid," he insisted with a slightly exasperated expression. Then, his face turned more serious. "We all know that you've been through some shit- probably way more than we'll ever really be able to comprehend or appreciate. And it's fine that you don't want to talk about it. I get it. But it's also completely understandable that losing your parents- at any age- feels like the loss of your childhood. And it's normal to miss that and want it back." Peter knew he could be tactless at times, but sometimes, things just needed to be said bluntly. And felt like this was something that Harry was in desperate need of having spelled out for him.
Harry's breath caught in his chest. He had to look away from everyone for another moment. As odd as it may sound, the death of his parents was one of the traumas in Harry's life that he thought about very little and that actually didn't really seem to bother him that much. Of course, he wished they hadn't died and mourned the concept of their family from time to time, but, in general, he didn't really have much of a problem usually talking about Lily and James Potter back in his own time. But that was because he never really knew them. They died before he had a single lasting memory of them besides their awful deaths and he grew up in a household where the very mention of them was a punishable sin. And when he arrived in the wizarding world, they still were not treated like real people, but rather as symbols- or ghosts. That was perhaps what was hardest about being back in this time now- everyone he would one day lose was now a fully realized person to him. And it hurt to be confronted with the reality Harry had been fighting to suppress in his own mind since he first stumbled out of the forest so many months ago.
Taking a deep breath, Harry looked up again. "Maybe that's why I'm struggling so much with this- I don't really 'miss it' or 'want it back'. My parents died when I was a baby, so I don't really remember much about growing up with them, because I didn't. After they died, I guess there just weren't a lot of options at that point, so I was left with my aunt and uncle." Harry's expression turned a little sour at the mention of his relatives. "They were muggles and already had a kid of their own, so I don't think they were exactly thrilled about taking me in. From what I understand, my mum and her sister didn't really get on very well," Harry said with a significant look at Sirius, trying to convey the level of hostility without having to spell it out. "They didn't want me, but they kept me. And I guess I should've just been grateful for that," he sighed. "But they really hated magic- like, to the point that the very word was banned in their house. I actually had no idea that I was a wizard until I was eleven- didn't even know that the wizarding world existed. They seemed to think that they could put a stop to my 'freakishness' with sheer willpower." Harry rolled his eyes at the absurdity of that.
The others fought to maintain their neutral expressions as Harry spoke, desperately trying to not interrupt him now that he was actually talking about stuff. Sirius had his jaw clench so tight, James would've sworn he'd heard the other boy's teeth creaking from where he sat nearby. They all had a suspicion that they had just discovered the source of many of Harry's learned behaviors. Not even Merlin would be able to help those muggles if they ever had the misfortune of running into Sirius in a dark alley one day.
Harry continued, not really looking at his friends as he spoke, just trying to get through it all. "I guess I just really grew to resent basically everything about how I grew up with them. It was a bunch of stupid stuff- like a lot of chores, not getting to eat whatever I wanted, not having a propper bedroom…" Harry gave a dry snort. "Hell- that's probably why Kerner hated me so much at first. He could sense how much I despise gardening from having to do it so much for my aunt when I was a kid. Maybe I have a similar hang up with Potions and cooking," Harry mused, more to himself. That had actually never occurred to him, since he had always just blamed Snape for his struggles. But his Potions grade here with Slughorn had clearly disproved that theory. Harry shook his head to clear the wandering thoughts. "To get back to the main point- we are assuming that my animagus form represents this idea of 'childhood' or something, but- I don't know. I kind of feel like I lost that before I even really knew what it was. It's literally something I can only access in my dreams at this point. How exactly am I supposed to tap into that to transform when I'm awake and stuck in the shitty real world?"
That was a depressing question that no one really had an answer to. "It doesn't necessarily have to represent 'childhood', per say, if that's something that you can't identify with," Remus said, a bit painfully. "It could be more like 'innocence' or something," he pitched.
Harry let out a dismissive snort. "Believe me- I am not innocent. And even if I was at some point, that one's gotta go into the same bucket as 'childhood' of things lost before I can really remember." Unconsciously, Harry brought a hand up to rub at his scar.
"Does your head hurt?" Sirius asked in concern. "We can stop talking about this if you want," he offered.
"What? No," Harry told him, a little confused by the seeming non sequitur before he realized where his hand had absentmindedly wandered to. He flushed a little as he quickly pulled his hand down and then tucked both of them behind his knees in an effort to stop them from drifting anywhere else. Seeing Sirius' skeptical look, Harry quietly explained, "I- uh- got this scar the night my parents died." He brushed back his messy fringe to expose the full lightning bolt before combing the hair back into place as best he could with his fingers. "I guess it's just kind of a nervous habit," Harry said as he tucked his hand back behind his knee. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Perhaps, to help put things in perspective for this discussion, I should tell you that my first real memory is of watching my parents get murdered. And that was then followed by a decade of living with my relatives who were really not big fans of having me around." Harry smirked a little. "You know, I actually really struggled when I was learning how to cast a patronus because the spell is supposed to be powered by overwhelmingly happy memories. The first time I ever successfully conjured mine was using the memory of the day I found out I was a wizard and was gonna get to leave my relative's house for the wizarding world." To that day, the memory still filled Harry with warmth and made him smile.
Fuck, was all Sirius could think. He simultaneously wanted to run over and smother Harry in a hug while also being terrified to touch him. All he could picture was the petrified little deer cowering underneath the bathroom counter with big, green eyes full of fear. And he hated to think that that image was probably rather representative of the boy's actual childhood. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
After taking a moment to clear his throat, Remus said in a slightly husky voice, "What if you thought of it more as 'vulnerability' instead? That's not something you can really lose, only bury and protect."
Harry took some time to consider that while the others took some time to wrangle their own thoughts and emotions. Remus' words reminded Harry of a train of thought he'd had once before, back over break when he'd been trying to figure out what his animagus form might be. He was pretty sure he knew the answer to all of this, but Harry wasn't quite sure if he could say it out loud. That just might make it all a little too real. But in the next moment, Harry was mentally cursing out Remus and his calm, reasonable sounding rationality. Just because you choose to ignore it, doesn't mean that it's not a real part of you.
Fuck this. And fuck everything in his life that brought him to this very moment. In general, Harry tried his best to steer away from any form of self pity, knowing that if he ever gave in, it might just swallow him whole. Thoughts of that variety were like quicksand and Harry was terrified of taking that first step and not being able to free himself before he sunk all the way in and drowned. But for an instant, Harry let all of those feelings of anger and bitterness and helplessness and sadness wash over him as he accepted the truth of the matter. And in that moment, Harry was fairly certain that saying it out loud actually couldn't make him feel any worse than he already did.
"This is going to sound really pathetic," Harry warned dismally. "But I think the core of it is that I just want to be loved. My relatives hated me, I never really knew my parents, I wasn't even allowed to have friends until I was eleven… And all of that just kind of fuck me up. All of that nice, cute stuff like 'childhood' and 'innocence' got shoved so far down and away that I literally cannot recognize it anymore. They were luxuries that I just didn't have. But I don't think wanting to be loved ever goes away." One of Harry's hands escaped and made its way up to tangle in his hair and tug at it. "But it all goes into that same bucket. How am I supposed to embrace something that I fundamentally have no concept of? The general feeling of warmth and the ghost of my mother feel like pretty flimsy jumping off points. Especially when I'm pretty sure that I'm not even capable or worthy of it at this point." Harry was getting pretty worked up and found himself spiraling.
Sirius couldn't take it anymore. "Fuck whoever told you that," he growled.
"Nobody had to tell me that- I could figure it out for myself," Harry scoffed.
"Well then fuck you," Sirius said adamantly. Harry's head snapped up at the unexpected response, his eyes wide as he stared at Sirius. Now that he had Harry's attention, his expression and voice softened considerably. "Of course you're capable and worthy of love- that's also not something you can lose, Harry."
Harry just shook his head. "You can't know that. What if it's just too late for me? I've already missed too many key milestones that can't be made up for," he worried. "Did you know that once babies are six months old, they stop being able to differentiate sounds that are not used in their native language? Any baby can learn Arabic, but a toddler who grew up learning English would really struggle to pick up the new language because of that. Their brains just can't process it properly anymore." The guys were really thrown by the sudden change in topic and looked at Harry with confusion and mild concern as he rambled on. "I mean, my brain basically short circuits at the idea of a hug. My body can't process the signals properly. And although you guys have been really nice about it, I know that I don't act like a normal person. But that's because I'm not normal. And I think there's just no fixing that at this point- it's hardwired in."
James had said he wanted an awkward conversation, but this had blown past 'awkward' a long time ago. They were now firmly into level one trauma territory. And it's not that he was upset about it- though it is very upsetting- but he just wasn't really sure what to do about it either. Looking around the room briefly, James thought, Where is that ruddy owl when you need him?
"Harry- do you honestly think that Pyrrhus doesn't love you?" James asked. "That stupid little bird flew across the entire continent to see you- twice! Nobody asked him to or forced him to. You didn't buy him, he's not your pet, heck- you don't even feed him. But despite having no other excuse, that owl would go through hell or high water to be with you simply because he likes being with you. And he shows you all kinds of affection that you manage to put up with."
"He's an owl," Harry said, as if that didn't count.
"He's an owl that would peck you to death if he ever heard you refer to him like that. Or found out that you dismissed his love as 'lesser' to that of a person," James pointed out, accurately.
And Harry knew that was true. And the same went for Hedwig. She was really the first experience that Harry ever had with love- that he could remember, at least. And of course he loved his friends, but he honestly didn't expect them to love him back in quite the same way. They had families and other things in their lives that would always outrank him, but he was okay with that. He just didn't have anyone else. As melodramatic as it may sound, unrequited love was what Harry had accepted was his lot in life.
"You yourself pointed out that behaviors are learned- and that means that they can be unlearned too, and new ones learned in their place. And I'm pretty sure that you could still learn a fair amount of Arabic if you really wanted to," Sirius said earnestly. "And while you may never truly be 'normal'- whatever that means- well, join the club. None of us are 'normal' either. Being 'normal' is highly overrated and absolutely no fun."
"And you really have gotten better about some of that kind of stuff, even over the short while we've known you. I think you probably would've had a heart attack and hexed his bollocks off if Sirius had tried to trap you in a hug the way he did during quidditch practice the other day, say, during your first few weeks here. So, while it may take time, as with everything else you do, you are wildly capable of it," James tried to reassure him.
Harry offered the pair of them a small smile for their efforts. "Okay, well, even if I accept that I am broken, but not unfixable, how does all of this help with the animagus situation? Believe me- I am feeling plenty vulnerable at the moment," Harry said, his voice getting slightly shaky towards the end. "But I remain steadfastly human."
"You also said you'd felt 'warm' and 'relaxed' before you transformed, but I'd wager you're feeling neither of those right now," Sirius said, eyeing Harry who was still curled up in a tense ball where he sat on the floor. Standing up, Sirius strode purposefully over to his bed and yanked the top blankets off of it before heading over and throwing them around Harry. "There- that should help with the first part. As for the second…" He reached out and poked Harry harshly in the arm that was now locked around his knees. "Release! You're wound tighter than a damn snitch." Harry rolled his eyes, but complied, dropping his arms and straightening out his legs in front of him. He stretched his back a little and heard a satisfying pop in return, only now realizing just how tense he'd actually been. "Now, you just have to find that feeling- whatever it is for you- and let it fill you up and take over. The way you described it made it sound like a positive and pleasant feeling, not something nearly as bad as you seem to be making it out to be for yourself. And whatever it is, clearly you are capable of finding it because you already have, remember? Bambi already exists- you just have to make friends with him," Sirius instructed. "So, relax, find that good feeling, and let go." Sirius closed his eyes and with one last exaggerated breath, he transformed into Padfoot.
The shaggy black dog came over and burrowed his way into the blankets draped around Harry, coming to lay snuggled up next to him, adding to the warmth. Harry smiled. "At least it's not my covers that are gonna smell like dog." Padfoot just gave him a sassy look.
Peter changed next and scampered away as Remus stepped back to give James some space so that he could shift as well. Harry soon found himself at the center of a non-specific animal pile with Padfoot curled up under the blankets next to him and Prongs on his other side, his head resting down on the floor in order to keep his antlers far enough away to not cause any problems. Wormtail was thankfully perched on top of Prongs, and Remus had come to sit on the other side of Padfoot and serve as their lookout, just in case.
Harry closed his own eyes and did his best to try and relax. He searched for that warm feeling once again. And, eventually, he found it, tucked away just behind his heart. But what was there was kind of like a spark or a small, dying ember that needed to be stoked back to life. So Harry concentrated and searched for a way to feed the faltering fire. The first thing that came to his mind was an image of Pyrrhus. And Harry very well might have imagined it, but it felt like the warmth inside his chest may have spread just the tiniest bit. So he followed that trail to Hedwig, and then Ron and Hermione, and then to Padfoot, who was still pressed comfortingly against his leg, and then to Sirius and the other Sirius, and so on until fire took on a life of its own. It seemed to glow and pulse and radiate that special warmth that just made Harry's soul happy. He leaned in, giving himself over to the warmth and between one breath and the next, Harry felt it.
His body shifted and shrank. It wasn't painful, thankfully. Harry had been worried the transformation might feel something like taking Polyjuice potion, but was rather relieved to find that that was not the case. Instead, it felt kind of like all of the unnecessary stuff was just fading away as the warmth spread throughout his body. And then it was over before Harry had truly had a chance to process that it was happening.
He blinked his eyes open and was once again relieved. Thank Merlin he could actually see this time. Looking curiously around, Harry took in the room from his new perspective. It was a little odd seeing it from so low to the ground. The other thing that struck him was that the colors looked a little off. The Gryffindor reds that he knew for a fact coated the room were muted and came off as more of a muddy greenish brown than red. Harry turned his head to look at his friends around him and found that they were all looking back at him excitedly. Remus was smiling encouragingly.
Pulling himself up onto slightly uncooperative, gangly legs, Harry took a moment to gain his footing. Apparently when the guys had told him he was a 'fawn', they hadn't been exaggerating. Once he was up, Harry moved to investigate his friends. Padfoot he easily recognized as the smell and blurry blob from his first transformation, and Remus was the same as well, but Prongs and Wormtail were new. Harry made a full loop around Prongs, sniffing him and taking him in from all sides. James just sat there and let him do it. As Harry came around his backside, he got a little tripped up in the blankets now piled on the floor and wound up splayed out on the ground in an uncoordinated heap of spindly limbs. He let out an adorable little indignant grunt as he pulled himself to his feet once again.
Once Harry had familiarized himself with the rest of his friends' animagi forms, Harry turned and headed decidedly towards the bathroom. The door had been left slightly ajar, so Harry was able to nudge it open with his head and walk inside. Curious as to what the heck Harry was up to, the other shifted back and followed after him. When they opened the door the rest of the way and looked inside the room, they found Harry with his front hooves propped up on the counter, balancing rather precariously on his back feet, his neck stretched out as far as it would go, as if he were looking for something on the counter.
Sirius let out a small laugh at the sight. "Are you trying to look at yourself in the mirror?" He asked, stepping closer to the little deer. Harry gave up on his effort, dropping back down onto all four feet before turning towards Sirius with a look that said, 'Duh', before nodding to make sure his response got across. "Do you want me to pick you up and put you on the counter so that you can see?" Sirius offered. Harry hesitated for a second, weighing his desire to know what exactly he looked like against his lack of desire to be picked up. But in the end, he just really wanted to know what 'Bambi' actually looked like.
After Harry gave another nod, Sirius stooped down and scooped him up, gently placing him on the long counter in front of the mirror. Looking himself over closely in the mirror, Harry had to admit that he looked basically just like any other fawn. His reddish-brown coat was maybe a shade darker than he'd seen on the telly, but the silly spots were all there. There were circles of light fur around his eyes which he wasn't sure if they were a part of the normal coloring or a remnant of his glasses, kind of like McGonagall had in her cat form. His ears were almost comically large compared to his small head and body- he'd be lucky if Sirius didn't start calling him 'Dumbo' instead. But really, the most striking thing about his appearance was his eyes. They retained their exact same shade of startling green that they were in his human form and it was only accented by the larger eyes this form had on an even smaller head. And Harry was pretty sure that deer didn't usually have green eyes. But honestly, he was just relieved that there was no stupid lighting bolt across the fur of his forehead or anything quite so conspicuous that would scream 'Harry Potter' back in his own time.
After turning around a few times and getting a good look at himself from all angles, Harry faced Sirius once again and waited until he asked, "You ready to get down?" So that he could nod. Once he was back on the ground, Harry made his way back out into the main dorm room and did one last lap, this time around the outskirts of the space before returning to sit in his blanket pile. Once he was settled, Harry was faced with a new challenge- consciously changing back to human. For all of the talking that they had done that morning, everyone seemed to have forgotten to discuss that final tidbit before letting Harry try out the shift again. Looking over at his gathered dormmates, Harry tilted his head to the side in an effort to try and convey the question 'What now?'.
"Try and just reign it in- whatever that feeling was that you used to transform in the first place," Sirius said, taking a stab at what Harry wanted to know. "Focus on your heartbeat and try to slow it down to your normal, human rate."
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated once again. To the others, it looked like the little deer was trying not to sneeze with his face scrunched up in concentration like that. Harry could feel that his heart was beating a lot faster in this body, so he tried to breathe deeply and slowly in an effort to calm it down. Then, he searched for that place behind his racing heart and worked on differentiating his regular body heat from the magical warmth that had spread throughout him when he'd transformed. Once he thought he could actually tell the difference between the two, Harry imagined that there was a little magnet in his chest drawing the warmth back in. He felt his ears and legs go a little cold and then all of a sudden, it was like everything was moving on fast forward. The warmth suddenly condensed back into his chest as the cold swept across his boy that he was shocked to find was human again.
Harry shivered slightly as he said, "That feels really weird."
"You get used to it," Sirius shrugged as he reached over and pulled one of the blankets back up over Harry's shoulders. "How was your first real outing as Bambi?" He asked with a smirk.
"Interesting," Harry admitted. "I can't say that I like being even shorter, but at least I'll have nature's perfect camoflauge the next time I'm wandering in the woods."
James huffed a laugh at that, but Sirius narrowed his eyes at Harry, not entirely convinced that he was joking rather than planning to go traipsing about in the Forbidden Forest once again.
"We should probably head down to lunch soon unless we want the girls organizing a search party," Remus interjected.
The others nodded and everyone moved to get ready to head down to the Great Hall. After a minute of quietly shuffling around, grabbing their robes and putting on shoes, Harry hesitantly broke the silence. "And- uh- do you guys think you could maybe, not tell anyone else about my muggle relatives? Not that I think they would be able to track them down even if they wanted to, but I'd rather prefer that on one really tried…"
"Sure thing," James told him with a reassuring, but tight smile.
"Thanks," Harry said, obviously relieved. The last thing he needed was someone snooping around about his family. It getting out that his parents died a decade and a half ago was one thing, but someone finding out that he allegedly had living relatives would complicate everything on a whole new level and just might ruin his cover.
As Harry turned back around to dig in his trunk, the other boys all exchanged silent looks that held the promise that no one would dare say anything that might get Harry sent back to his 'loving relatives'.
Down at lunch, the guys' mood was a little subdued as they were all wrapped up in their own thoughts. As they sat down, James could see the looks of concern on the girls' faces. When Lily opened her mouth, presumably to ask what was wrong, James made quick eye contact with her and shook his head ever so slightly, flicking his eyes over towards where Harry sat. Thank Merlin she was a beautiful and brilliant witch because she then closed her mouth and turned back towards Gretta, continuing their casual conversation as if the boys hadn't even joined them.
The guys eventually started to shake themselves out of whatever was preoccupying them and were making light conversation by the end of the meal. Though, everyone did notice that Harry remained particularly quiet all through lunch. As they all got up to head back to the tower, the boys now having to face the reality of the homework that they had been pushing off for so long, James paused to tie his shoe before heading off with the rest. Lily had also hung back slightly, needing to pack up her bag with the bit of work she'd pulled out after she finished eating.
"Thanks," James told her quietly. "It was just a bit of a- heavy morning. But everything really is okay. I promise we didn't do anything to hurt Harry." At the sound of Lily's bag thudding onto the table, James looked up and met her lovely, green eyes.
"I know I tease you guys about that a lot, but- I hope you know that I know that you'd never actually intentionally hurt Harry," Lily said earnestly. "At worst, I'm just worried that he'll become collateral damage from 'hurricane Sirius'," she joked.
James smiled before a mock indignant look took over his face. "I'll have you know that 'hurricane Sirius' was officially downgraded to a tropical storm this year."
"Oh," Lily raised her eyebrows cartoonishly. "I must have missed that breaking news bulletin."
The rest of Sunday passed in a blur of homework and hushed conversations. Harry's mood remained subdued throughout the start of the next week too. He spent classes sitting quietly in the back, only half paying attention. McGonagall didn't call Harry out on it, though she did cast a worried look at his back as he left her classroom at the end of the lesson. She reminded herself that it was understandable that he wasn't excited to be back in her class after what had happened the last time he was there. The whole class had actually been rather tense with even the Hufflepuffs throwing concerned looks towards the little Gryffindor, though Harry resolutely ignored them all.
The Gryffindor 6th years spent the free period in their abandoned classroom. Over the weeks, the space had started to take on a bit of personality and it now more closely resembled the guys' own secret abandoned classroom up on the eighth floor. Much of the seating had been transfigured into something more comfortable, a few of the desks had been changed into proper tables, and Harry and Lily had even taken to practicing some intricate charmswork on the walls, so they shimmered with various colors and designs and even a few animations. In one corner, there was a collection of dancing flowers that were rather reminiscent of something out of Alice in Wonderland.
Harry made his way over to the table tucked in the corner of the room and pulled out an essay to at least pretend to work on so that he didn't have to talk to anyone. He was still very in his head about what he considered basically another breakdown the previous day. Despite the guys' kind words and support, he just felt kind of pathetic. Thinking back on it, he couldn't really believe some of the things that had come out of his mouth- things that he'd never even dared to let himself fully think before, let alone outwardly admit to. But he also knew it all was true. Deep down, he'd always felt broken. Like something defective pulled off of the assembly line and shoved into a box of rejected items not worthy of being sold. In a sense, it was probably his own way of rationalizing how his relatives had treated him- because they didn't act the same way towards Dudley and his friends as they did Harry, so there must have been something wrong with him specifically that caused them to treat him like they did. In his young mind, that had been the only logical explanation.
And then, on top of that, there was that troubling trend of people who dared to get close to Harry having the tendency to drop dead prematurely. His parents, Quirrel, Cedric, Sirius- and he'd basically almost gotten Ron and Hermione killed every single year since they'd met. Ginny had almost died twice and then he'd gone and dragged Neville and Luna into the Department of Mysteries fiasco the previous year too. You'd think he wanted everyone he cared about six feet under the way things looked spelled out like. But Harry just felt cursed. It just proved that he didn't deserve their love. He was different and wrong and felt as though he was carcinogenic and it was just a matter of time before being near him did you in. Harry hated that he secretly felt a little relieved being in the past since he already knew most people's fates- and while he may be responsible for their deaths in the future, he took solace in knowing that he wouldn't be getting them all killed any time soon.
The weather outside matched Harry's turbulent thoughts and dour mood. It took Milli a few moments to realize that the sound she was hearing wasn't just the noise of the castle's old glass rattling in the window panes, but rather a distinct tapping/scratching that had nothing to do with the whipping wind and snow. Cracking the window open carefully, in an effort to keep as much snow outside as possible, what appeared to be a snowball with wings flew into the room. It swooped across the space before landing on the end of the table that Harry was sitting at. Harry, however, so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the new arrival until the little ball began to vibrate, flinging a shower of frozen slush all over the table, Harry, and his homework.
"Oi!" Harry yelled indignantly, throwing an arm up a little too late to actually protect himself from the deluge. Once the freezing rain stopped, Harry tentatively lowered his arm, glaring over towards the source of the onslaught, half expecting to find Sirius' grinning face. But instead, he was a little surprised to find Pyrrhus- he usually stayed in Gryffindor tower when he was in the castle. The small owl blinked up at Harry innocently, fluffing up his feathers in an effort to try and get warm. He waddled over with awkward steps and climbed up Harry's arm that the boy had lowered back down to rest on the table. As he went, Pyrrhus used his wing to sweep away some of the snow splatter on Harry, finally coming to rest in his usual spot on Harry's shoulder where he leaned back precariously in order to knock a little more of the ice out of Harry's hair. Once he was satisfied with a job well enough done, Pyrrhus made to snuggle into Harry's neck, eliciting another shout. "No! Get off- you're freezing!" Harry shivered and tried to gently pry the tiny bird off of himself as the frigid fluff ball tried to press himself firmly against the exposed, warm skin.
After a few seconds of digging his claws into Harry's robes, obstinately refusing to be moved, Pyrrhus caved and fluttered down to land in front of Harry. He hopped up onto Harry's hand and gave him an imploring look that said, 'Well, are you a wizard or not?'. Harry rolled his eyes and shook Pyrrhus off before reaching into his robes and pulling out his wand. He cast a quick Warming charm on the owl and a Drying charm on himself for good measure as Pyrrhus happily flapped back up to his perch and aggressively snuggled up into Harry's neck.
"Stupid owl," Harry grumbled, as he brought his free hand up to ruffle his now warm feathers. Looking down, Harry saw that his essay was completely ruined. It was covered in wet splotches that had caused the ink to run and Pyrrhus' footprints could be seen clearly tracking across the parchment, making basically half of the page illegible. "See what you've done?" Harry reprimanded the owl, motioning towards the sodden assignment. "I have to rewrite the whole thing- are you happy now?" Pyrrhus made a little chirping noise that clearly conveyed that yes, he was quite happy, thanks for asking.
Harry gave an exasperated huff and made sure to properly clean off and dry the table before pulling out a new sheet of parchment and the Dicta-Quill. The ruined assignment actually turned out to be a good thing as it gave Harry something to do besides ruminate. Trying to decipher what remained of his essay and whisper it to the waiting quill required just enough concentration and active thinking that everything else was soon forced to take a backseat in his mind.
The others couldn't help but smile at the interaction between Harry and Pyrrhus. That little owl seemed to be his own type of magic.
By Tuesday, Harry's withdrawn mood was starting to worry his friends. Whenever someone dared to ask him about it, Harry would always just insist that he was fine. And every time he heard that, Sirius would scowl at the phrase.
Herbology class had been a mostly silent affair. They were working with Mumbling Mulberry bushes, harvesting their finicky fruit. The berries were highly sought after potions ingredients as they were one of the few things that could be added to healing potions that would not affect their efficacy, but can improve the taste. It turned out that the reason the vast majority of healing potions still tasted so vile was because the berries of Mumbling Mulberry had to be picked at just the right time in order to be juicy, sweet, and tasty. If you harvested them just a hair too early or late, they were astoundingly sour and bitter. On top of that, the fruit was only viable for a few hours once it was plucked, so the harvest needed to be almost perfectly timed with the brewing process in order for the ingredient to actually be used.
The other thing that made the plant so unique to work with was that the fruit literally told you when it was ready to be picked. The bushes seemed to almost be humming, each individual berry resonating like a little tuning fork. Only when a berry reached a certain pitch was it ready to be harvested. Needless to say, it was quite the task having to sort through all of the noise in order to try and hear exactly which fruit was emitting which frequency while at the same time keeping an ear out for which frequency was the right one to indicate that the berry was ready to be picked. The whole process resulted in all of the students stooped low next to their bushes, eyes screwed up in concentration as they held their breath and listened intently to the plants, hands at the ready.
Harry, unfortunately, had missed their last lesson and therefore had no background for how to work with the persnickety plants besides the brief introduction to them mentioned in their textbook. But that had done little to prepare him for such an intricate and difficult task. Luckily though, Harry was a quick learner and after a hushed and rushed explanation from Remus, they all set to work. Soon enough, Harry had actually proven himself to be the best at the task, better even than Remus, who had the added benefit of his slightly heightened hearing thanks to Moony. You could tell that you had picked the fruit at just the right moment if it darken from the bright red it was on the plant to a dark purplish hew just after it was plucked.
All of the guys had a few failed attempts to start, but once Harry had done it correctly three times in a row, Sirius hissed under his breath, "How are you doing that?"
Harry gave a little shrug before whispering back testily, "Maybe if you were listening instead of talking…" But he regretted his harsh tone almost immediately, knowing that Sirius hadn't deserved it. In an attempt to rectify it, Harry offered, "It's all about the pitch. The 'ripe' note is actually the same one as the 'Galileos' in Bohemian Rhapsody. Try picturing the berries singing and wait until it sounds right." Harry smirked a little at his own slightly ridiculous sounding suggestion. Sirius raised his eyebrows dubiously, but gave it a go nonetheless. And, much to his surprise, after a few more attempts, the comparison was actually helping and he was hitting it right more often than not. He smiled back at Harry as they all refocused on their task.
That afternoon in Care of Magical Creature class, of all of the possible dark and dangerous things they could've discussed, it just had to be Basilisks. The topic just sent Harry's dark mood spiraling once again. When Barlow called on him to answer a question about Basilisk venom, Harry debated for a moment whether or not to bother answering or just claim he didn't know. But as he looked into his professor's eager and expectant face, he knew he needed to suck it up.
Sitting up a little straighter and bracing himself a little, Harry said, a little tonelessly, "Basilisk venom is one of the most deadly and destructive substances in the world. Their bite should kill a person in under a minute. The venom itself is actually corrosive and will eat clean through many objects on contact, so it needs to be handled and stored with extreme care. And while it is a highly sought after potions ingredient and effective poison, I highly recommend that you steer far clear of the stuff if you can help it."
Barlow looked rather impressed by his answer, though she did not care for the slightly vacant look in Harry's eyes as he spoke. "Ten points to Gryffindor for such a detailed and accurate answer. The acidic and corrosive nature of its venom is a lesser known unique feature of the Basilisk. While it is widely known that they are highly dangerous creatures, many witches and wizards attribute it to their deadly gaze and often forget about their venom. Many overeager potioneers have died while attempting to harvest ingredients from a dead Basilisk having made the erroneous assumption that a deceased snake could not hurt them. Once the venom enters your bloodstream- that is it. The venom will eat right through your skin and even dragonhide gloves cannot withstand it. There is only one documented case of someone surviving exposure to Basilisk venom. A Potions Master in the 19th century was working with the ingredient and spilled the vile of venom, some of which got on her foot. She immediately severed her leg, preventing the venom from spreading to the rest of her body," Barlow explained, noting the smattering of slightly green faces and horrified looks around the classroom.
Harry had gone rather pale listening to the story, and he spent the rest of the class basically trying to tune out the lecture as best he could. He'd unconsciously crossed his arms across the front of his body, bringing his left hand up to rub at the upper part of his right arm. He sent his silent gratitude to Fawkes once again, now not only thankful for his life, but his arm as well.
On top of his own personal unfortunate history with Basilisks, the other thing that was making Harry uncomfortable about the lesson was the way the rest of the class kept looking over at him. Apparently, they had all just come to assume he was their resident snake expert or something. As if being a Parselmouth somehow granted him some secret knowledge or the wisdom of all snakes. On a different day, it almost could've been funny- the way people seemed to be waiting for Harry to start hissing or to step forward with some grand lecture that would supersede Barlow's. But that day, it was all just rubbing Harry the wrong way. It was almost painful forcing himself to remain stoic and sit there for the entire period.
When the class finally ended, Harry really tried to refrain from actually running out of the classroom, desperately wanting to leave, but not wanting to draw additional attention to himself even more. He settled for a calm, but brisk exit, not even waiting for the others to gather their things before he left the room. Lily was quick to follow him out, more than a little concerned. But Harry either didn't hear her calling his name as she saw him disappear around the nearest corner, or had simply ignored her. Undaunted, she took off in pursuit, but soon came up short when Harry ducked into the bathroom. The rest of the guys caught up with her a minute later, looking both confused and worried.
"Did you see where Harry went?" James asked hurriedly, looking around the hallway as he spoke, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of Harry's familiar, messy black hair.
"Yeah- he went in there," Lily told him, gesturing at the bathroom door she was camped out next to. Without any hesitation, James, Peter, and Sirius pushed past her and entered the bathroom.
They found Harry standing at one of the sinks calmly washing his hands. Turning his head towards the scuffling footsteps that came to a sudden halt, followed by a small 'oof', Harry gave the three of them his own look of mild concern. "Are you guys okay?" He asked hesitantly.
"You- What are you doing in here?" Sirius stuttered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Is there some other secret activity you lot do in the loo here at Hogwarts that I don't know about? Honestly! If another person follows me into the toilets to ask such a stupid question, I swear to Merlin I will hex them. I needed to piss- sue me!" Harry huffed angrily. Then he stooped down to snatch up his bag and stalked past his frozen friends. He threw the door open none too gently, causing Lily to jump as it banged open right next to her. Thankfully, she'd been standing just far enough away to not get hit by it- but it was close. Seeing Lily start out of the corner of his eye, Harry turned towards her, his face softening with an apologetic expression. "Sorry. I didn't-"
But Lily was quick to cut him off. "It's okay. Are you okay?" She asked, taking a half step towards Harry.
"I'm fine," he said in that same empty voice they'd been hearing his infamous catchphrase in all week.
After dinner, Harry knew he was nearing his breaking point with the not-so-subtle concerned looks and probing questions and sad smiles from his well-meaning friends. But he really was worried that he just might hex someone soon if he wasn't able to get some air and calm down a little. Harry knew that he was just not processing things appropriately, but he couldn't help it. When he couldn't deal, his default was to get angry instead. But he also knew that he shouldn't be taking his own shit out on his friends. A distraction- he needed a distraction.
So Harry declared that he was going to the library. When people started automatically agreeing to go work with him in the library, Harry pushed back, saying that he actually wanted to do a little independent research, so they should just head back to the tower and he'd come meet up with them later. When that was still met with reassurances that they didn't mind accompanying him- even if it sounded a little boring- Harry was forced to just come out with it.
"Look- I just need a little space, okay? I promise, I'll be back by curfew. I just-" Harry turned almost pleading eyes towards Sirius, who was usually the most adamant about not letting Harry wander around alone.
And Harry's damned doe eyes were his kryptonite, so after a wavering second, he caved. "Fine. But you better be back well before curfew or we will come and drag your scrawny arse back if necessary," Sirius warned.
"Like you could," Harry said playfully dismissively.
As the others all headed back up to the common room, Harry headed off towards the library, breathing a little easier without so many oppressive eyes on him. And he was actually eager to have a little alone time to do some research. Ever since his progress at the Potter's, Harry had really wanted to take a second pass at the Hogwarts library to make sure he hadn't missed something now that he had a better sense of what he was actually looking for.
Harry slipped down a little-used corridor that led to a secret passage which he knew would pop him out right next to the library. Walking alone down the deserted hallway, Harry felt almost normal for the first time in a long time. The blank stone walls around him held no indication of what century it was, let alone what decade. Harry took a deep breath, savoring the cold, damp air of the castle that felt like home, letting his mind drift over to some random, pleasant thoughts.
But then, Harry felt his tongue suddenly curl back on itself, almost making him gag as it seemed to try to crawl down his own throat. The next second, he found his hands paralyzed and it felt like a rope had bound his ankles tightly together. Harry teetered for a moment as he fought to keep his balance before someone grabbed the back of his robes and yanked him through a shadowy doorway. So much for 'content vigilance', Harry had just long enough to think before he was roughly shoved into a hard, wooden chair just beyond the threshold. A dark figure came around from behind him to lean against the table that Harry now found himself seated at. Harry wasn't sure whether he should be frightened or relieved when he saw who had grabbed him. None other than the young Severus Snape was looking down at him with an oddly impassive expression.
"You're a hard man to get alone," Snape said casually. Harry narrowed his eyes at him.
With a flick of his wand, Snape canceled out the Tongue-Tying curse, allowing Harry to breathe properly and spit out, "Sorry if it feels like I've been avoiding you. But, in my defense- you did try to kill me the last time we were alone together." Snape rolled his eyes dismissively, as if that should've long been water under the bridge. "What exactly do you want?" Harry asked, looking around the abandoned classroom he'd been dragged into, now extremely wary of other unsavory figures lurking in the shadows.
"To talk," Snape said, as if that were obvious.
"And do you always start conversations with a little light bondage? Kinky," Harry said with a smirk. Snape's nostrils flared. Clearly he wasn't in an overly violent mood at the moment, seeing as how Harry wasn't bleeding yet, so Harry decided to employ one of his tried and true tactics when captured by the enemy- yammering on long enough to figure out how to actually get away. Plus, he was a little curious what on earth Snape thought the two of them had to talk about. "What spell is this?" Harry asked, looking down curiously at his still frozen hands. He could still move his arms, and wrists, but it was like there was some kind of nerve block and none of his fingers would respond to his brain- he'd never experienced anything quite like it before.
"You like it?" Snape asked, eyes glinting. "A little something I came up with. I find it can come in quite handy sometimes," he smirked.
Did Snape just make a- bad pun? What in Merlin's name was happening? Harry stared at him, fighting to keep his face neutral as his mind raced. "Would you care to drop it?" Harry asked. Why not? Maybe by some miracle he'll even agree.
"Not a chance," Snape said with a small laugh and a shake of his head. "Unlike your fellow Gryffindorks- I am not an idiot. And I would prefer that your hands remain immobile and in my line of sight for the remainder of our conversation."
Harry's arms were suddenly yanked forwards and pinned to the table. Great. Someone finally decided to take him seriously- to see him as a real potential threat- and it just had to be fucking Snape.
"But you're not like the others," Snape continued, giving Harry a calculating look. "You turn up out of nowhere, with no explanation and the dueling skills to go toe-to-toe with Avery and Neith and not only walk away, but win. And take down a Hellhound, from what I've heard." Well, shit. How did that get out? "So, tell me, how does a half pint like you manage to pull all of that off?" Snape asked with a sharp, raised eyebrow.
"I don't like being attacked," Harry said simply, meeting Snape's heavy gaze.
Snape let out a snort. "Nobody likes being attacked- unless they are an unhinged adrenaline jockey with no sense of what is good for them- like Black. But for him, it's just an excuse to get to hit back," Snape sneered, but he didn't miss the dark flash in Harry's eyes at his comment. "Try again," he said sternly.
For just an instant, Harry forgot that he wasn't facing down his dreaded Potions professor as the cadence of those words triggered something almost instinctual inside of Harry, forcing him to basically bite his tongue in order to stop his automatic response that had been ingrained after half a decade dealing with his own Snape back home. Instead, switching tactics, Harry said, "Everyone knows that I don't remember shit from before I showed up here- what do you want me to say?"
"Not remembering and choosing to forget are two different things," Snape said in a low voice. And damn if that wasn't true. But Snape didn't need to know that, so Harry held his silence. Seeing that the other boy was not about to continue, Snape went on, "I think that we are much more alike than you may realize. Unlike those prats that you share a dorm with, we both live in reality and understand what the world is truly like out there. And thus far, we have survived it. But I want to give you the chance to thrive in it. You could have the kind of power that would make everyone avert their eyes in reverence as you walk down the halls, rather than mock and pity you as they do now."
Holy shit. Was Snape really trying to- recruit him? The whole situation was so insanely, unbelievably ridiculous that Harry almost burst out laughing. But seeing as how he was currently pinned to a table, feet bound, and without his wand, he thought better of pissing off the volatile soon-to-be Death Eater standing before him. Well, I guess Tommy has made a similar offer before with the whole 'join me and maybe I'll spare you' shtick, Harry reminded himself, so this wasn't actually completely foreign territory. It was just- this was Snape.
"Really?" Harry asked mildly, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yes. Power and respect. And some like-minded, intelligent company would be a bonus too, seeing as how you aren't really getting any of that at the moment," Snape added, looking quite smug.
"I'm actually quite satisfied with the company I keep now, thank you," Harry huffed.
Snape spun around so that both of his hands were planted firmly on the table as he turned intense eyes on Harry. "You know that they don't actually care about you, right? And that they will never truly accept you. You are nothing more than a novelty to them- entertaining, and perhaps useful for a time, but easily cast aside. You may have gotten to go play 'family' over the holidays with the Potters, but clearly they don't want you. You mean nothing to them- to any of them!" Snape spoke adamantly, breathing a little hard from the effort.
Harry was a bit taken aback by the abrupt and harsh change in tone. Was Snape trying to butter him up or tear him down? It was kind of confusing, but Harry couldn't deny that whatever he was doing felt surprisingly effective. This was one hell of a manipulative speech. No wonder Voldy had so many followers if his strategy was to just send out an army of emotional vampires to drain the resistance out of anyone potentially vulnerable or with a speck of insecurity until it seemed like he was their only viable option left. It was kind of chilling to see it play out in real time.
"But you do not need them." Snape had slid easily back into his neutral tone. "In the end, they would do nothing but drag you down- hold you back from reaching your full potential. Liberate yourself from their shadows. To them, you are nothing more than a miniature, knockoff of James- their precious, perfect Gryffindor golden boy. But I know just how much appearances can be deceiving. You- you're a snake in lion's clothing," Snape said knowingly, leaning back against the table again looking brazenly confident in his words.
Oh, if only he knew. Harry tilted his head to the side, thoughtfully, before saying, "I'm actually glad you brought that up." That seemed to catch Snape a little off guard, but he recovered quickly. "I think that the whole house system is just a tad reductive, don't you? To say someone brave can't be cunning or someone loyal can't be smart or vice versa? It's a little idiotic to put people in boxes like that. Unwise, perhaps, too, to go around assuming things. And you know what they say about people who assume- they make an ass out of you and me. And now we are left in a rather awkward predicament." Snape raised an eyebrow at that. "You seem to have left a few things out of your little pitch- like the murder and the torture and the kneeling before a man who doesn't give a rat's arse about those feelings and aspirations that you spoke so passionately of- let alone your life." Snape's expression turned ominous. "Furthermore- you don't know shit about me. If you did, you'd know just how laughable this whole little exercise actually was and wouldn't have bothered wasting your time- and mine- with it. And for someone who seems to think me smart and able to hold quite the grudge, you sure turned one hell of a blind eye towards the fact that you and your friends and your precious master have done nothing except try to hurt and/or kill me since basically the day I arrived. Allow me to alleviate your misconceptions- I am not a masochist nor do I have Stockholm syndrome. The 'power' you promise comes at a heavy price, and I'm afraid that I just can't afford it right now. And respect is earned, not beaten into someone- if we were really so similar, then you would know that," Harry spat.
Snape's face filled with rage, but Harry, on a roll and pissed off well past any rational thought or self-preservation, couldn't help himself from adding, "So you can tell Voldemort, while the offer is flattering, I must unfortunately decline- that is, if you're ever important enough to actually meet him one day."
Harry knew he was writing his death warrant, but his anger that had been simmering for days had finally gotten the better of him. He was angry not just about the audacity of the situation- because, really, how dare Snape think that he could tie Harry up and convince him to 'join the cause' with a few manipulative words and some vague promise of 'power'? Where did the self-assured, over-confident arsehole get off? But he was pissed that such tactics had clearly worked on so many others. While there were definitely more than a few willing sycophants among the Death Eater ranks, there were also far too many young, vulnerable people who had been seduced and radicalized by likely similar speeches. And the rest, well, Voldemort just got impatient and imperiused them- but hey, people can have multiple character flaws.
Snape whipped out his wand, pointing it directly at Harry. "How dare- you little-" He appeared to be incensed beyond words. Through clenched teeth, Snape hissed out a spell and Harry barely had time to pray that it would work without the finger twitch as he desperately thought, 'Protego!' Thank goodness- a shield sprang up just in time for Snape's curse to ricochet off of it. Snape was so surprised that he wasn't able to stop his own spell as it rebounded upon him. Just as the force of the collision of the curse with the Shield charm threw Harry back, Snape crumpled to the floor. The spells binding Harry's legs and arms failed as his momentum toppled the chair.
Harry scrambled to his feet, which were a little tingly from the sudden return of proper blood flow, and bolted for the door. He didn't spare a glance at Snape, choosing instead to believe that the other boy wouldn't have tried to use a truly lethal spell on Harry, no matter how angry he'd been. They were still in school, after all, and murdering a classmate in cold blood during the daylight when there were known to be aurors snooping around just didn't seem very Slytherin. All Harry knew was that he did not want to be there when Snape got back on his feet. With a quick Unlocking charm, Harry tore out of the room. Sprinting down the hallway, Harry would've happily taken a detention at that moment if it meant that there was a teacher around to at least witness his death if Snape had decided to follow him. The library was long forgotten as he ran straight for Gryffindor tower.
Harry was puffing for breath by the time he made it to the Fat Lady. He managed to get out the password and the portrait swung open to admit him. As he scrambled through the portrait hole, Harry's eyes were already scanning the common room for his friends. He soon spotted James, Sirius, and Peter around one of the study tables- though, if they were actually using it to 'study' was up for debate. Harry headed straight for them, not even pausing as he reached out an arm to grab a hold of Sirius, who was sitting on the end, and started dragging him over towards the dormitory stairs. He knew the others would follow.
Sirius looked up as Harry approached and started saying, "Hey, Harry! The library not-" But his words were cut off as his arm was harshly yanked away, the rest of his body having no option but to follow or lose the appendage. "Mate- what's up?" He tried to ask as he was pulled across the room. When he didn't get an answer, Sirius' worry increased. "Bambi- what's wrong?" But Harry still didn't respond- he just kept hauling him away.
When they reached the dormitory, Harry was pleased to see Remus was already there- he looked to be working on some homework at his desk. Thankfully Peter was smart enough to close the door behind them, sensing the mood and correctly judging that this was about to be an interaction best had in private.
"Harry- what the hell is going on?!" Sirius demanded as he wrenched his arm free from Harry's surprisingly tight grip. That got Remus' attention as his head whipped up to look at them.
Harry looked up at Sirius nervously. "I- uh- think I may have really done it this time with Snape…"
The others took a second to finally notice that Harry was sweaty and still a little out of breath. "Done what?" Sirius asked cautiously, now rather concerned. Harry didn't spook easily and right then he definitely looked a little spooked. "What happened?" He asked seriously.
"Uh- He, uh- He kind of pitched the whole 'Death Eater lifestyle' to me and I told him where he could shove it. And then he tried to curse me, but the spell rebounded and hit him instead. And I have a feeling that he's not the type to easily let either of those things go…" When Harry looked up, he was met by nothing but gaping mouths and shocked expressions.
"He- You- What?" Sirius stammered.
Harry started pacing and threw his arms up in the air. "I don't know what the bloody hell he was thinking, but he seemed oddly confident that I'd be rather receptive to his little speech."
"Was it just Snape?" James asked, catching Harry off guard and causing him to falter in his pacing.
"What? I mean, yeah, it was just him- but what does that have to do with anything?"
James relaxed a little. "Well, we have years of experience in dealing with him, Harry. I don't think you need to worry so much- we can handle Snape," James assured him.
Sirius, taking James' lead, said, "Yeah. You don't need to worry about Snivellus."
"Don't call him that," Harry snapped. "And I don't think you guys realize that he's not the same scared little twelve-year-old that you lot picked on for years. He literally stalked me through the hallways- probably for days- until I was alone, basically abducted me, and tied me to a fucking chair. I really think 'dangerous' and 'off-the-deep-end' are the two top descriptors that come to mind for that kind of behavior." Harry was slightly satisfied to see James and Sirius lose their relaxed expressions at that more detailed description. "And Merlin- you should've heard what he said," Harry added, his face growing dark.
"That must have been terrifying," Peter said in an awed, but scared voice. "Did he- threaten you? Did he hurt you?" He asked, a little panicked.
"No- It wasn't like that. At least, not until after I told him to fuck off. The scary part was that it was almost flattering. I could see how somebody could be convinced of joining them with a speech like that. Even the way he went about the whole thing. He made a point of conspicuously binding my hands so that I couldn't reach my wand. He's just about the first goddamn person in this school to actually consider me a genuine threat rather than something sad or weak or broken. It felt like when he looked at me, he wasn't seeing a victim, he saw somebody powerful- someone worthy, in his eyes, of being a potential future Death Eater. And I know it's kind of sick, but it also kind of felt good somewhere deep down. And the things he said- if I didn't already have a blood grudge against Voldemort and his followers, or people like you guys as friends, I could see just how compelling his little speech could've been. And that's terrifying to think about…" Harry's face had taken on a pained expression as he spoke.
Nobody knew what to say in response to all of that.
"Ugh!" Harry shouted in angry frustration, resuming his heated pacing. "Fuck him! Fuck all of them. Fuck Voldemort and his stupid war and his stupid Death Eaters. For someone who professes to be trying to 'save the wizarding world' from whatever made up enemy he's invented this week, he's doing a pretty bang up job of destroying it. If they could look beyond the bloody allure of 'power', then maybe they'd see that even if they were to win, there'd be nothing left for the future. Everyone will be dead. Everything will be burned to the ground. And they'll all be left at the mercy of a madman who will turn on them when there is no one else to vilify. What the bloody fuck do they think the endgame here looks like?"
"Harry-" Remus interjected carefully, still sitting calmly over at his desk in sharp contrast to Harry's manic pacing. "I think you need to calm down and take a step back. While you may be making a valid point, I think you may have blown the original issue out of proportion. We were talking about Snape and dealing with him in the short term here at school, not the ideology behind the war," Remus reminded him. "And I'm not so sure that you should be trying to start that war here with the Slytherins right now."
Despite Remus' attempt, Harry did not look like he was quite ready to be calm. "I'm not starting a war- they picked a fight with me and I'm not about to just roll over. And what? Would you rather I have said 'yes' and skipped off into the sunset Severus?"
Sirius let out a hiss of distaste at Harry's use of Snape's first name.
"I didn't say that," Remus shook his head. "I'm just saying that a 'blood grudge' against the Death Eaters sounds like it goes a little beyond what happened with Snape today. And it might be good to keep in mind who you are actually angry at and what you are actually angry about and act accordingly. While I don't think Snape is a good person by any means- and he definitely shouldn't have attacked you and you have a right to be angry about it- I also don't think he's actually the reason you are so upset right now. Particularly since despite how pissed you are, you still wouldn't even let Sirius casually insult him."
"It's shit like that that got us into this mess," Harry spat. "If enough people tell you that you're worthless and nothing more than something to dirty their shoes as they walk all over you for long enough, you will eventually start to believe it. And then one day someone comes along with a pretty little promise that you will never have to feel that way ever again- maybe even with the bonus of getting a bit of revenge- and you sign on the dotted line so fast you just might give yourself whiplash. That is how Death Eaters are made." Harry glared at Sirius, who at least had the decency to look cowed by the harsh reprimand. Harry then took a few deep breaths, trying to even remember what else Remus had said. "As for the rest of it- you may, have a bit of a point," Harry said, much more calmly. After a shaky breath, Harry explained, "Voldemort and his blasted war are the reason that my parents are dead and I have very valid reasons to blame him and his Death Eaters for a lot of the bad shit in my life. Me and my family were just early casualties in a war that has gone on far too long." That statement was sadly all too true in hindsight. "So yeah, I'm pissed about a lot of things." Perhaps it was Snape adding just a little too much insult to countless injuries that had finally sent Harry over the edge. "But I can acknowledge that killing Snape will not address the larger issue. Hell- it probably wouldn't even make me feel better," Harry admitted a little grumpily, his mind still racing.
Remus wasn't sure whether he should feel comforted by that last statement or not.
"But clearly something about me just screams 'Death Eater'. Between Snape and Monroe, I really feel like it's time I reevaluate how I am presenting myself. So, what is it about me that gives off a 'great potential to do evil' vibe?" Harry gave his friends an expectant look. "I'm looking for actual feedback here people," he prodded when his question got no response.
There was a long moment of silence before Peter said, just above a whisper, "You're kind of scary."
"Scary?" Harry asked, a bit incredulously. "How could I look scary? I'm, like, barely a meter and half tall and eight stones soaking wet."
"I don't think that he meant that you look scary- more that you can come across as scary sometimes," Remus tried to explain.
"I think it might be because you're so small that the 'don't fuck with me' vibe is so unexpected and potentially- uh- off putting to some people," Sirius offered hesitantly and James nodded thoughtfully in agreement at the insight.
"Wait- do you all think that I'm scary?" Harry asked, putting his arms up and taking a small step back, looking around at the four other boys.
"Bloody terrifying, mate," James said with a smile. "But that's just part of what we love about you. You're wildly capable of taking down any one of us, but you're also nicer than all of us put together."
"I'm pretty sure that's not true."
"And humble too," James tacked on teasingly, making Harry flush slightly.
Peter had been studying Harry intensely with a contemplative expression before he added, "You're kind of pointy too."
"Pointy?" Harry asked warily.
"Yeah. You're just more 'baby porcupine' than 'baby bunny rabbit'," Peter said, as if that made any more sense.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. "Please stop comparing me to baby animals."
"It's just this sort of subtle edge you have," James tried to translate for Peter. They all knew what Peter had meant- it was that kind of underfed look Harry had that made his cheek and jaw bones stand out a little more prominently than was maybe normal- and not in a way that spoke of naturally growing into the more defined face of adulthood. And having all seen Harry without his shirt on, they knew that the 'pointiness' didn't stop at just his face. Harry's 'boney ass elbows', as James often liked to describe them, were another testament to the boy's 'pointiness'. But none of them were willing to spell that out.
"Okay… Well, 'scary' because I'm short and 'pointy' isn't really something I can fix," Harry said, still looking a little confused about the second bit.
"Nothing about you needs to be 'fixed'," Sirius growled, not caring for Harry's attitude and approach to this. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with how you look or act or present yourself or whatever. It's other people who have the hang ups and that's their own problem. You can't control how other people think, so it's not worth wasting your own time and energy worrying about it or trying to accommodate it. Like you said- fuck 'em."
Harry just shook his head. "While that's a lovely sentiment, at this point I no longer have the luxury of ignoring it. Believe me- I know very well that there are some people who you can just never please, so trying to change yourself to gain their approval or respect is as futile as trying to doggy paddle across the ocean. And I have no intention of drowning. But this is about making my own life easier and everyone a little safer. I'd really prefer that no one else try and grab me in the corridors. And the last thing I want is my 'future Death Eater energy' being seen as rubbing off on you guys or something. I mean, it's bad enough that I'm already a Parselmouth, so it's not like I've never been accused of being a 'Dark Lord in the making', but Monroe doesn't even know about that and he still hates me."
"But maybe that's just it," James said suddenly. "He doesn't know anything about you. Perhaps it's more of a matter of people knowing that you are capable of something, but not knowing where you stand. I mean, we know that you basically exclusively use your magic for self defense and ridiculous charmswork, but I could imagine that other people might just see a powerful wizard and freak out a little. Literally everything about you is a mystery to people, so they can't judge you based on context clues like they can the rest of us. Like, my father is literally a pro-muggle activist, so people can guess where I stand on most issues. Sirius has spent six years building up his reputation so that people no longer assume he's pro Dark Arts just based on his last name. But with you, they just don't have those shortcuts. And unless they bothered to get to know you, they won't find out those kinds of answers," he pointed out. "Most people at this school aren't paying enough attention to realize how capable you are, so they just see how short you are instead and leave it at that. But those few who can see it- the power hungry Death Eater wannabes and trained aurors and such- are frightened by it and want to control it. You're a wildcard, mate."
That brought Harry's still racing thoughts to an abrupt halt. 'Unknown' was something Harry had never really had the opportunity to be. His entire life he'd been slapped with so many labels it was sometimes hard to keep them all straight. At his relatives', he was a 'criminal' and a 'freak'- no ambiguity there. And in the wizarding world, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, and- despite his reputation in recent years- people still seemed to think that he should be the Gryffindor golden boy and the goddamn savior of the wizarding world. It had honestly never even occurred to Harry that he even had a choice in which side he was on. Voldemort had made that decision for the both of them long before Harry was able to have an opinion on the matter.
Even after so many months there in the past, it was still hard to remember sometimes that he wasn't Harry Potter here. And Harry Doe was a free agent. Thinking about it all with this new perspective in mind, Harry could see how a lot of his actions and choices since his arrival could be taken and interpreted in a few different ways. Most of the time, Harry was just desperately trying to not draw attention to himself. He didn't want people asking too many questions or getting suspicious of him, so he did his best to fly under the radar. That's why he'd fought so hard to reign in his temper and not rise to the bait of the Slytherins like he normally would with Draco Malfoy and the like. That's why he often sat at the back and only spoke when specifically called on in class. And while life seemed determined to fuck all of that up for Harry at every turn, it hadn't stopped him from at least trying to control what he could in that respect. There was also that lurking fear of somehow fucking up the timeline with one wrong move. But in hindsight, he could see how all of that might come off as suspicious to the wrong person. Like someone so inclined- or trained- to spot such behavior. And so while was able to get by with the majority of the school's population, those few with a sharp and critical eye had sniffed him out. They knew that he shouldn't be there- they'd just jumped to the wrong conclusion about why.
"I hadn't realized that I'd been playing so coy with my loyalties," Harry said, flashing a wicked grin. "Perhaps it's time to change that." There was a collective gulp around the room at the gleam in Harry's eye.