Harry Potter and the Shadowed Light
Chapter 7
Previously
Sitting down to eat breakfast with the rest of Ravenclaw, Harry saw that the other house tables were still mostly empty. Looking up at the head table, Harry felt his scar flutter, startling him as it had never done that before. Harry felt only a slight pull towards Quirrell and he wondered if being only part of his soul meant that the bond was weaker. Lost in his thoughts, Harry barely contained his surprise when the doors to the great hall slammed open and a green skinned Ron stormed in followed by the rest of the Gryffindors.
Not even trying to hold in his laughter, Harry wondered who Ron had upset before he caught Neville's eye and saw the blond haired boy smiling secretly. Harry was shocked, but happily so as he realised that this time Neville would learn to roar early.
After receiving his timetable, Harry saw that, like Li had said, the majority of his lessons would be with Hufflepuff this time around, making Harry wonder if that would change anything. Harry also noticed that, instead of having Transfiguration first, he was instead graced with Potions. He wondered idly if Snape would treat him with the same scorn in this life that he had in the last; Harry had a suspicion that some of the hate last time had been because of his looks.
Pulling out his nutrition potion, which he had to take every morning after breakfast, Harry downed it with a small frown before swallowing the last of his pumpkin juice, hoping to wash out the taste. Harry didn't realise at that moment dark eyes had been watching him with interest, focusing in on the vial in his hand.
Standing, Harry slipped his timetable into his pocket and grabbed his bag from the floor. He was planning on visiting Madam Pomfrey before his first lesson and would have to hurry now if he wanted to avoid being late - the dungeons were a fair walk from the infirmary.
"Where are you going?" asked Terry as Harry passed him.
"I need to go to the infirmary," Harry said, making those who heard frown.
"Are you okay, Harry? Have you hurt yourself?" asked Lisa as she looked him up and down, looking for any injury, the others doing the same.
Harry was surprised by their worry as he had not really interacted with his new housemates. "I'm fine," he assured.
"Then why are you going to the infirmary?" Sue questioned.
"I've almost run out of the ointment my healer gave me and I haven't got any extra. I hadn't realised how low it had gotten, so I'm hoping she can help me," Harry explained.
"Oh, well then, that's fine. As long as you're okay," said Mandy.
"Do you want me to come with you?" offered Terry. "In case you get lost?"
Harry smiled again. "That's okay, you finish your breakfast, I'm sure I'll be fine. I looked at the map," Harry said. He would have to be careful for the first few days to hide how well he knew the castle. With that, he walked from the Great Hall and took the familiar route to the infirmary.
Entering, Harry looked around at the place he had spent so much time in during his last life and wondered if he would escape such a fate this time.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, what can I do for you this morning?" asked the aged healer when she spotted Harry. She couldn't see anything obviously wrong but knew that sometimes that didn't matter.
Harry smiled at Madam Pomfrey and walked closer. "A few days after I received my Hogwarts letter I visited a healer who placed me under a rather strict potions regime. I thought it would be wise to let you know in case I ever landed in here and you needed to know if I was on something," Harry said.
Poppy Pomfrey was shocked by the slight boy's words. "I see. What potions for what purposes?" she asked. Seeing his frown, she added, "All of this information is private, Mr. Potter. As a healer I had to take oaths to ensure I never betrayed my patients' trust."
"Oh," Harry said. "Well, the potions are to help minimise the damage done by my relatives," Harry said, not looking up and hoping to portray the image of an embarrassed child. He was not embarrassed about the situation, but rather furious when he thought about what he had endured at the hand of this family before he had stood up for himself.
Poppy nodded her head once, understanding the situation. "Do you know which potions in particular you were taking?"
Harry frowned. He had become used to his memory recall being perfect, so being unsure was annoying, but he honestly didn't know the specific names, just their purpose and perhaps a few ingredients based on the taste. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure. I know that the potion I take each morning is a nutrient potion to help me gain weight - it tastes like burnt sage and is pale purple. The other potion I take every other night is to help my bones heal and strengthen them; it's not skele-gro, I know that much. It smells like copper and tastes like old blood - oh! And it's dark green, almost black," Harry said.
Poppy nodded, impressed with his description. "Right, it sounds like you're taking Helga's Fortune and Kosti-recovery."
Harry just shrugged. He had never heard the names before, but he was admittedly no expert in potions and when the healer had prescribed them the names were not given, just the purpose and dosage.
"I'm also using an ointment to help my scars fade, which I'm running low on," Harry said. "It's pale blue and smells like mint and coffee."
Poppy frowned. "I can't seem to recall any ointments which fit that description. I shall have to ask our resident potions master," she said, racking her brain.
Harry tilted his head to the side. "I have Potions first thing, I can ask him if he knows," Harry offered.
"That would be helpful dear," Poppy said. "Now, if it's Potions you have, you had better pop off. Professor Snape doesn't tolerate tardiness - unless you have any other matters to discuss?" she asked.
"No ma'am," Harry said, turning to leave.
"Mr. Potter, I would like to give you a health scan in a few weeks to check the progress of your potions," she said. "I will send you an owl when it's time."
Nodding, Harry continued and quickly made his way to the dungeons, entering and taking his place just as Snape walked in.
Harry decided he must give the same speech at the start of each year.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death—that is, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Harry kept his head down and wondered if Snape would call upon him again like he had last time, letting out a breath when he started the roll call. He did seem to pause on Harry's name slightly, making Harry look up in question. However, he soon recovered and continued down the list.
After waving his wand and putting the directions on the board, Snape told them to brew the potion so he could assess their natural talents. Calling randomly on students to ask them questions, he eventually targeted Harry.
"Mr. Potter, what is the best way to prepare pixie wings?" he asked.
Harry frowned for a moment in thought, making sure not to stop stirring his potion. "I suppose, sir, that it depends on the purpose of the potion they're being used in. If they're being used in a stimulus potion, such a Pepper-Up, then they're best powdered as this would increase the surface area and speed up the reaction time. However, if they're being used in a glamour potion like Polyjuice, they're best chopped as this would make the effect longer lasting," Harry said, remembering the information he had read in Snape's old textbook he borrowed in his 6th year.
Severus barely kept his shock from showing. Not only had the boy given a perfect answer to a trick question, but he had understood the effects of ingredient preparation to a level some 7th years had yet to grasp. Perhaps he should have a chat with the boy and see if he had prior tutoring; although he doubted it as Albus had told the staff in their meeting this morning that the boy was muggle raised and new to their world, making Severus wonder just where the boy had grown up.
Meanwhile, the other students, unlike Severus, didn't mask their shock. The other Ravenclaws looked a combination of proud and wary.
"Five points to Ravenclaw, Mr. Potter, for such a well thought out answer," Snape said, shocking Harry into forgetting to add his counter-clockwise stir. Harry didn't think he had ever received points in Potions until Slughorn had taken over. "Please stay behind at the end of class," he instructed.
After the lesson ended, Harry told the other Ravenclaws to go ahead of him and to let Flitwick know where he was.
"If you're sure, Harry," Padma said, leading the others out of the classroom.
Turning to Snape, who had watched the interaction in silence, Harry hoped his face didn't reveal anything. He was glad he had been asked as he needed to question the man about his ointment, but he was curious enough to see what Snape wanted.
"You wished to see me, sir?" Harry asked.
"Yes, we were lead to believe that you had been muggle raised, Mr. Potter, yet you showed a surprising level of knowledge and ability for that," Snape said.
Harry internally cringed. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I like to read and I have an almost perfect recall. I'm also very good at muggle cooking."
Severus hummed in consideration as he looked at the boy. He was tempted to look into his mind but knew such an action would be frowned on. "You do a lot of cooking?" he asked.
Harry flinched, knowing Snape would pick up on it. "Yes, sir," he said.
Severus wondered why his question would elicit such a reaction. "Very well. I will keep an eye on you in class and if I feel you're not being challenged enough, I will aim to rectify the situation."
Harry was floored by the offer; he hadn't considered Snape to be the type of teacher to go out of his way to actually help students achieve more.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said.
"You may leave now," Severus said, wondering about the mystery boy who refused to meet his preconceived expectations.
"Actually sir, there was something I needed to talk to you about," Harry said.
Intrigued, Snape raised an eyebrow in question, "Yes?"
"This morning I visited the infirmary and while there, I mentioned that my scar ointment was running low. I'm not sure about the name of the ointment and when I mentioned its properties, Madam Pomfrey couldn't place it," Harry said.
"I see. Tell me the properties," Severus said.
"I don't know much about it, to be honest. It's pale blue and smells like mint and coffee; there are no fragments in it and the consistency is like melted wax - it also makes the area where applied tingle slightly for a minute. I was told to apply it every night for six months at which point my healer would check the progress and, if need be, change the dose," Harry recited.
Severus let out a hum in thought. He had a good idea, but it was a more obscure ointment usually used for old scars that were not medically treated. It didn't often get used in Britain because of this reason and it made Severus wonder about Harry's life before Hogwarts.
"I believe you are using Apollo's Tears," he said.
"Thank you," Harry replied eventually, unsure what to say. "I think that Madam Pomfrey will probably ask you to brew some for me later today, so I'm sorry for adding to your work." Harry didn't want the man to start resenting him again; he hoped to keep this new civility for as long as possible, even if it was suspicious.
"Most likely, Mr. Potter, but it is no bother," Snape said dismissively, letting a silence fall.
Harry stood for a moment, unsure what to do. "Should I leave now...?" he asked, waiting to be dismissed.
"Yes, you may go," Severus said, conjuring a piece of parchment and writing a note. "Give this to your professor."
Harry accepted the note and left, making his way to Charms. Snape's behaviour was baffling to him and Harry wondered if this was another ploy by Dumbledore to influence him. He wasn't sure yet which staff members he could trust aside from McGonagall and Pomfrey - and Madam Pomfrey had only been cleared after Harry had realised that her healer's oaths wouldn't allow her to ignore abuse if she found it. In her last life she had no cause to look as Harry had hid the abuse verywell in his shame.
Harry was unsure about Snape though, as last time he had been so loyal to Dumbledore yet not. His true loyalty had been to Harry's mother and, through her, to Harry. Pondering this, Harry knocked and entered his Charms lesson, giving Flitwick Snape's note as he slip into a spare seat next to Hannah.
"Hello, Hannah," he whispered as the lesson continued, happy to see a friendly face.
"Hey, Harry," she replied pleasantly before focusing back on the small professor.
Harry, however, barely paid attention to the rest of the class after that as he could do the simple charm in his sleep. Instead, he focused on what he would do next. Harry slightly regretted not planning his actions more before he had returned to this time as he had so much to do and so few solid plans; he still needed to find a way to help Tom, who at this moment was less Tom and more Quirrellmort. He had an unknown number of enemies as he couldn't be sure who worked for Dumbledore; if it was just the Weasleys, he doubted Hermione would be in on the plan in this life, but Harry still wanted revenge - it was petty as she was technically innocent, but Harry was feeling vindictive. He had the aforementioned revenge against the Weasleys, Granger, and the old coot. At this point, Harry was just waiting for the old man to strike and call him up to his office. Hell, Harry was surprised that he hadn't been dragged up there last night and forced into a red and gold tie.
Snorting at the image his mind produced of Dumbledore jumping him in the hallway and throwing red and gold glitter on him and demanding he roar, Harry ignored the curious looks sent at him by his classmates as he plotted and schemed.
After a week of classes, a note from Dumbledore finally appeared during breakfast on the Friday of his first week. Harry, who was sitting with Neville at the Gryffindor table, fought to roll his eyes at the phrasing.
Mr. Potter,
My dear boy, I was wondering if you might join me for a spot of tea this afternoon after your lessons have finished.
Professor Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I do so enjoy Ice Mice
Seeing Harry's look and remembering what he had said about his family, Neville asked, "Who's it from?"
Harry, handing the note over, resumed eating. He was prepared for this, he told himself.
"What do you think the headmaster wants with you?" Neville asked after he had read the note, his voice slightly worried for his friend.
Harry pretended to be confused and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea," he replied.
"Well, I wouldn't worry, you haven't done anything," Neville said, before he cringed. "Well, not anything too bad - you don't think it's about your argument with Ron, do you?"
Harry smirked when he thought about his confrontation with Ron just yesterday.
Due to the way September 1st fell in the week, school had started on a Tuesday and it hadn't been until Thursday that Harry had shared a lesson with the Gryffindors. Entering Herbology, Harry had immediately gone over to Neville, asking how he was settling in and what he had done to Ron while they waited for Professor Sprout to appear. It was during their conversation when Ron had pushed his way over to Harry, his skin still slightly green.
"Harry, mate, why didn't you say anything before the sorting?" Ron asked in an overly friendly voice. The class seemed to go silent when they saw what was happening.
Harry spared Neville a look of exasperation before turning to Ron. "Who are you?" he asked.
Ron seemed to puff his chest up slightly before holding his hand out. "The name's Ronald Weasley, but you can call me Ron, all my friends do."
Harry looked at his hand before shaking it limply. "Well Ronald, what do you want?" Harry asked.
The crowd seemed to pick up on Harry's tone and all took a step forward, wanting to get a better look at the pair of them.
Ron seemed slightly confused for a second before he smiled overly confidently again. "Well mate, I thought I would come over and rescue you from Longbottom; you can't want to hang out with him, he's not even a proper Gryffindor. You need friends like me, being who you are," Ron said.
Harry felt more than saw Neville cringe at Ron's words and narrowed his eyes at the red head. "Wait, you thought you would come over here and rudely interrupt my conversation with a friend, just to insult said friend and - what? I would suddenly leave Neville and want to hang outwith you?" Harry said incredulously.
Ron stood stupidly, his mouth slightly open before he said, "Well, yeah."
Harry shook his head. "Unbelievable," he said, truly shocked at Ron's stupidity. "Why would I want to hang out with you? I don't even like you, you're rude and obviously only want to be my friend because of some silly title the media gave me for something I don't even remember doing."
"But-but, I'm a Gryffindor and you're the Boy-Who-Lived—"
Harry cut Ron off, "Why would I care what house you're in? Especially if it's Gryffindor when I'm in Ravenclaw!"
"Well, you were supposed to be in Gryffindor!" Ron shouted.
"Supposed to be?" Harry repeated, looking around and seeing the whole class was now silently watching their argument.
"Yes!" Ron shouted. "You may as well be a slimy snake now; everyone knows that all the other houses are full of dark wizards! You were supposed to be in Gryffindor with me! We were supposed to be best friends and go on adventures and be heroes!"
Harry felt his eyes widen in disbelief as the class started muttering, all with looks of disbelief and anger on their faces. "There's nothing wrong with being in Slytherin! I would have been happy to be put in that house or any house - however, even if for some reason I had been put into Gryffindor, I would never be friends with somebody like you," Harry said, barely keeping from laughing out loud at Ron's hot headed announcements. How Harry had fallen for his act last time he would never now.
"Merlin, you're ruining everything!" Ron screamed. Harry almost laughed at that and he wondered idly if Ron was actually stupid enough to blurt out all of Dumbledore's plans right now in front of their entire year group.
"Why? Because I was sorted into a different house from you, a boy I have never even met? Because I don't want to be friends with somebody who only wants to latch themselves onto me like a leech for something I don't even remember doing? Because I'm not the perfect little Boy-Who-Lived you were told stories about growing up - the little light wizard hero? Well, I will never be that, I'm just Harry, I'm not some special super powered Gryffindor hero!"
Ron seemed to vibrate before he actually let out a roar and actually launched himself at Harry. Harry, who saw the attack coming, simply sidestepped the redhead and watched as he fell, landing in a heap on the ground. The rest of the class stared in disbelief as Ron sat up and glared at Harry.
"Urg, I hate you!" he shouted.
Just then the greenhouse door opened and Professor Sprout appeared. Looking around at the shocked faces of her students and finally seeing Ron on the ground,, clearly worked up, she bumbled over.
"What's the meaning of all this?" she asked, looking around.
Harry, who was busy staring at Ron, masked his internal glee as there was no way Dumbledore could expect to recover from this and turned to look at the small Herbology teacher.
"Honestly professor, I don't even know," Harry said with an incredulous voice.
"Yeah, Ron just went mental," Neville said, sticking up for Harry.
The rest of the class nodded and muttered about the redhead's outburst.
Sprout seemed to think for a minute before she shook her head and smiled at the class, "Right then, moving on. Hello, my name..."
Thinking about the argument, Harry smirked.
"You never did say, Neville, what did you do to his skin the first night?" Harry asked, remembering the green with glee.
Neville smiled lightly. "Well, he was being so... you know..."
"Ronald?" Harry prompted.
"Yeah," Neville agreed with a light laugh. "He kept going on about Slytherins and becoming your best friend and a hero and well, I just..."
"Turned his skin green," Harry said, laughing.
"He really is a git, you know," Neville said.
"I'm just glad I don't have to live with him for the next seven years," Harry replied.
Neville groaned. "Please don't remind me," he whined.
"Just think, seven whole years of him and his Gryffindor light speeches," Harry added gleefully.
"Why weren't you put into Slytherin again?" Neville asked jokily.
"Why, the house of snakes couldn't handle my glory," Harry said loftily before both boys started laughing.
"Well, hopefully Ron will leave his speeches behind. He can't honestly believe such rubbish," Neville said.
"You never know, some people will believe anything," Harry muttered darkly, before he added in a normal voice, "Well, I don't care as long as he leaves me alone."
"We've got Defence together now," Neville reminded Harry.
"Hopefully he'll stay as far away from me as possible," Harry said, his mind now on Defence.
Harry had been both longing for and dreading having his first Defence lesson with Quirrellmort. He had yet to find an answer about how exactly he was going to save Tom. Harry was not even sure if Tom was even saveable - Harry knew he needed Tom to be alive and, that without him, he would never achieve true happiness, never be whole. Yet, he also knew that even before Tom created his first horcrux he wasn't a sweet innocent person; Tom had always been ruthless, cut throat, and determined. Harry was torn. Until he had found a way to return Tom's sanity, as much as he was able to, he didn't want to focus too much on how he felt about Tom Riddle.
Like it had whenever Harry had seen Quirrellmort in this life, Harry's scar fluttered as he entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Picking to sit in the middle, Harry, along with Neville, Hannah, and Susan, all slipped into place without any trouble. Quirrell was sitting at the front of the class waiting for them all to arrive.
Seeing as they had time, Harry leaned to his friends. "So ladies, are you excited for Defence?" he asked.
"I'm not sure, I heard from some of the older year badgers that Quirrell's got an awful speech impediment," Hannah whispered. "Everybody is talking about it - apparently it's because he upset some vampires."
Neville looked slightly fearful after hearing the word vampire. "Really? Do you think it's true?" he whispered, looking at them.
"Yeah, apparently he never had it before he left on his sabbatical," Susan said.
Harry leaned in conspiratorially, deciding to add some to the rumours. "I heard that's why his turban smells like garlic, it's to keep the vampires away."
Neville looked at them all with wide eyes. "You're joking," he said desperately.
Harry just shrugged. "Maybe, who knows?"
Neville looked slightly white and Harry decided to take pity on his friend. "I wouldn't worry Nev, even if he did annoy a group of vicious vampires, you're safe at Hogwarts."
Neville looked slightly calmer and smiled gratefully. "Yeah, thanks."
"R-r-right t-then class, my n-n-n-name is Professor Q-Quirrell..." After five minutes, Harry decided that when he finally fixed Tom, he would hit the man; the speech impediments were not funny and this was just too much.
By the end of the lesson, Harry was no closer to figuring out what to do about Quirrellmort. The man had not been obvious about observing Harry and, had it not been for Moody's teachings in Harry's last life, he probably would have missed the man's observations; he was smart about it.
After leaving Neville, who had his first Potions lesson, Harry and the girls walked to Transfiguration by following the waiting prefects. Harry had decided to sit with Terry as he didn't want to isolate his housemates and he had never really gotten to know the boy in his last life.
"So, what did you think of Quirrell?" Terry asked as they waited outside the classroom door.
"Well, he's a good enough teacher, it's just..." Harry trailed off.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe we should put a study group together in the common room for Defence this year," Terry suggested.
"Maybe, but I think we should ask the rest of our year," Harry said and, after seeing Terry frown, he added, "I'm sure some of them would love a chance to study, and if it doesn't work out we can always cancel it and stick to fellow ravens."
Terry looked conflicted but agreed, "I suppose. I mean, some of them have to at least want to pass."
Harry was glad Terry agreed as he wanted to try and unite his classmates - at least, the ones he knew weren't part of Dumbledore's schemes, and a study group would be a great idea. It would be like a junior DA, he mused.
After Transfiguration, Harry made his way to lunch, his meeting with Dumbledore in the forefront of his mind.
"What's got your face looking like that, Harry?" Susan asked him. Hannah and, surprisingly, Terry had joined Harry at the Gryffindor table with Neville.
"I've got a meeting with Dumbledore after lunch," he replied.
"Why?" Terry asked, the look of horror on his face as he probably thought of all the house points Harry would be about to lose.
"I'm not sure, really," Harry said.
"Do you think it's got anything to do with what happened yesterday?" Susan asked.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," Hannah said.
"Probably," Harry agreed.
"Well, that's not your fault," Terry said, indignant on Harry's behalf. "That Weasley fellow was way out of line."
"I know that, I'm sure the headmaster just wants a chat or something," Harry said.
"He was a bit mental," Hannah said after looking around to make sure he wasn't within earshot.
"Totally," Susan agreed.
Having finished his food, Harry stood, "Well, I guess I'll see you guys later then," he said.
"We can wait for you if you like," Neville offered. "In the library, maybe?"
Nodding, Harry agreed, "Thanks, that would be great."
After giving the ridiculous password to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office, Harry walked up the familiar steps and knocked, not entering until he heard Dumbledore call out.
"Headmaster," Harry greeted as he entered.
"Harry, my boy, welcome, do take a seat," Albus said, his voice affectionate and grandfatherly. Had Harry not know what a manipulative old coot he was, he could have easily believed that he really was just a kind old man.
Sitting, Harry looked at the headmaster. "You wanted to see me, sir?" he said, making sure his voice sounded slightly unsure.
"Yes, nothing to worry about though, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "I just wanted to have a chat with you, see how you were fairing."
Harry fought not to roll his eyes. "I'm fine, thank you, sir," Harry said softly.
"Good, good, I know it must have been a shock for you, all of this." Dumbledore said, his eyes searching Harry's for any indication of deceit.
"It was, but I had the summer to prepare," Harry lied easily.
"Yes. I must say, I was rather surprised that you replied to our owl. I had thought that I would need to send a member of staff for you," Albus said, his voice slightly inquisitive.
"Thank you, professor, but as you say, it wasn't necessary. I would have hated to be a bother for anybody," Harry said, making sure to make his voice small.
"It wouldn't have been a bother, my dear boy. I had to send Hagrid to Diagon Alley anyway, he needed to collect something for me from Gringotts. It's lucky I did as you probably saw, they had a break in the very same day, in that very vault," Albus said, his blue eyes twinkling as he spoke about his good fortune.
'Well, that answers one of my questions,' Harry thought. He had been wondering how Dumbledore would try to get Harry to go after the stone this time around.
"You're lucky then, professor, I had heard that Gringotts was the safest place on earth - after Hogwarts, that is," Harry said, seeing if Dumbledore would add another hint.
"Yes, Hogwarts is the safest place around," Dumbledore agreed his eyes twinkling merrily as he thought his plan was working.
After a moment of silence Dumbledore spoke again, "Anyway, my boy, we seemed to have fallen off track. I also asked you up here as I hear you had a little incident yesterday with a fellow student, a Mister Ron Weasley."
Harry feared he would cause permanent damage to his eye nerves with how much he was straining to keep them in his head.
"Yes, sir," he agreed lightly, making sure to sound sorry.
"I've known Ronald since he was a young boy. He's grown up hearing stories about you and has always wished to befriend you. I'm sure meeting you he just got over excited. You can forgive him can't you, Harry?" Albus said, in a tone which would have made Harry feel guilty had he not remembered exactly who was speaking.
Harry made sure to squirm slightly before he spoke, his voice childlike, "I would forgive him, sir, but he was mean to Neville as well."
"Ah yes, you're friends with young Mister Longbottom."
Harry nodded his head in feigned excitement. "Oh yes, Neville's my best friend. We met on the train."
"That's nice, my dear boy. But I'm sure you would like some more friends, and Ronald has such a large family. I'm sure they would all love you," Albus said.
"I do have some more friends," Harry said in slight childish protest.
"I'm sure you do," Albus said in a placating voice. "I just worry, I knew your parents you see, and if I'm honest, I look at you like I would a grandson."
Harry couldn't believe the man and clenched his fists to keep his magic from lashing out, focusing all his might on his occlumency shields. Harry hoped they held up as he feared, if they fell, his magic would rip apart the room and give him away. After a moment, once Harry was sure he wouldn't cause a magical tsunami, he braved replying.
"Really sir, you knew my parents?" Harry said with awe.
"Oh yes ,my dear boy, quite well actually," Albus said. "In fact, I have something that belongs to you." He then pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak from a drawer in his desk.
Harry was surprised that Albus was giving him his cloak now, but he rationalised it as Albus' way of drawing Harry in.
Taking the cloak, Harry put it on his lap, still folded. Making sure to stroke it in what he hoped looked like wonder, he said, his voice tinged with faux emotion, "Thank you, sir." Harry was glad the cloak was back in his possession, now he just needed the wand and the ring.
"It's no bother, I had borrowed it from your father just before he died," Albus said. "You will find it quite interesting when you put it on," he hinted.
Taking the hint, Harry stood and put on the cloak. Looking down Harry made sure to jump and say in shock, "I'm invisible!"
Dumbledore laughed, "Yes, this cloak has been in your family for years. I felt it only right to give it back to you, however you must not use it for mischief or sneaking around."
Taking off the cloak but making sure to keep his expression of surprise, Harry sat back down. "Oh, I wouldn't do that," Harry said.
Albus let out another little laugh. "Oh, I'm sure," he said with friendly sarcasm. "You would never guess how many times I heard your father say those exact words. In fact, I bet I would have caught him twice already trying to sneak onto the 3rd floor corridor. He was always looking for an adventure."
Harry couldn't believe the audacity of the man to try and use his parents to manipulate him in such an obvious way. Schooling his features to one of interest to mask his frustration, Harry asked, "My father was adventurous?"
Albus beamed. "Oh yes, he would always be trying to solve a mystery and cause a little mischief. Why, he and his friends in Gryffindor were well known for it."
"He was in Gryffindor, then?" Harry asked, as though he didn't know.
"Yes, both of your parent were in fact. That's why I was shocked when you were sorted into Ravenclaw," he said.
"I didn't know that, sir," Harry said in feigned sadness. "The hat did consider Gryffindor, but it said that Ravenclaw would suit me better. I like reading."
"It's okay Harry, I'm sure you can still honour your parents' memories even from Ravenclaw."
Harry barely concealed his snarl at how Dumbledore phrased his last sentence. "Well, my best friend is in Gryffindor," Harry said instead.
"Yes, that brings us back to the topic of friends. I'm sure your parents would agree with me, that forgiving young Ron for his mistake would be the right thing to do. He really is a very nice boy once you take the time to get to know him. He's like all young Gryffindors, they sometimes act before thinking."
Harry couldn't believe the audacity of the man. He was so obvious that Harry was honestly unsure whether he was even supposed to not notice.
"I suppose you're right," Harry mumbled. "And if my parents would want me to," he added.
Dumbledore smiled widely, his blue eyes twinkling. He was pleased that the boy had been easily convinced. He had hated having to give up the cloak, but he supposed he would have to make sacrifices for the greater good; it helped that he would get it back once the boy had fulfilled his purpose.
"Very good. Right, I believe that that is everything. Why don't you pop off and enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Harry?" Dumbledore said.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, standing.
Just as he was about to reach the door, Dumbledore called out to him, "Oh, and Harry? Do remember that if you ever need somebody to talk to, I'm always here. I wasn't lying when I said I saw you as family." The genial grandfatherly tone sold the act perfectly.
Harry actually felt slightly sick; this man had the whole world so fooled. He had them believing his act.
Nodding his head, Harry beamed. "Thank you, sir, I'll remember that," he promised.
"Off you go, then," Dumbledore replied, twinkling eyes shining with victory.
AN: Sorry for the slower update, will be without wifi for a few more days.
Big thank you to my Beta reader miisticalwrites for taking the time to check this for me!
Remember people that reviews are always appreciated but I won't hold the story to ransom for them.
Updates should come every few days and like usual this is being posed on Ao3 under the same name.
Hope you enjoy reading
~ Annie