Here we are, down to business. First in this chapter I skip loosely over the summer, not much to say, not much to do. I also attempt to resolve some long-term plot holes I believe JKR created in SS. Let me know how I did.
Because I like to discuss stuff I created a Forum for this story. You can ask me questions there.
Now, where were we?
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"Don't believe everything you think. Thoughts are just that–thoughts." - Alan Lokos
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Harry blinked. There, above him, was the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.
"Good afternoon, Harry."
Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then it all rushed back to him; Quirrell, the stone. He began with an eloquent "Wha-" as he tried to sit up, but his head swam nauseatingly and he soon collapsed back to his bed.
"Astute of you. When I learned from Professor McGonagall you wished to speak to me, Harry, I did not think you would go so far to get my attention." Amusement twinkled in those pale blue eyes. "I shall attempt to get you up to speed, so to speak, since you are a little behind the times." Harry groaned. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."
"Then who does? Sir, I-"
"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."
"Aren't you the Headmaster?"
Dumbledore nodded, "Ah, but this is Madam Pomfrey's domain, I would be a fool to get between her and her patients."
Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realized he was in the hospital wing; the crisply-made beds and white linen sheets gave it away. He looked to his right.
Who robbed a candy shop?
"Ah those, they are all tokens from your friends and admirers. What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows."
Tracey…
He decided the blame was most likely hers… somehow.
Harry leaned back into the bed. "You said I was behind the times, Sir?"
"Ah yes, you have been here for three days. Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Davis, Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Granger, and Ms. Turpin were all extremely worried."
Lisa.
He groaned. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. He could just imagine the poor girl blaming herself for what happened.
"And the Stone?"
"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone you are so infatuated with. Professor Quirrell did not manage to undo the enchantments, but I suspect you knew that, and even if he had, the stone was never here, at Hogwarts. By the time I reached the chamber, there was little to do but collect you. I feared I would be too late, as the effort to stop Quirrell nearly killed you."
What?
"I was certain that the Stone was here, Sir."
"Most were. Well, Nicolas and I had a little chat. We agreed the best way to lure a budding dark wizard out of hiding was to set a trap. The wards here are quite impressive, arguably the greatest in Europe, and should someone have made an attempt on the Stone, I was to be alerted. Voldemort is not the first wizard to believe stealing the Stone might be useful, nor, I feel certain, he will not be the last."
Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face.
"The wraith - You-Know-Who -" Harry started.
"Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
"Yes, Sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed, he is amortal. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time. And, if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return."
"But not destroyed?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Voldemort delved deeper in the secrets of magic than I ever believed anyone would. He has done something to himself, something I do not understand; thus, I can do little about."
Harry nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."
"The truth," Dumbledore sighed, "is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."
"You knew he was still around. You didn't tell me." There was bitterness in Harry's mouth. "You didn't tell me the man who murdered my parents wasn't dead."
"No, I did not, I had hoped to keep you safe here in the castle, where your paths might never have crossed." Harry nodded, able to understandthat at least.
"Why does he want to kill me, and why did he destroy my family, Sir?"
"Alas, I cannot tell you. Not today. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."
"But you will, tell me?"
"I shall."
Harry felt indignant, but knew better than to argue.
"But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"
"Your mother died to save you, Harry. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that a love as powerful as your mother's leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, is the strongest form of protection. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."
"Sacrificial magic?"
Dumbledore gave him a measured look. "Yes, I did not know you were interested in such things."
Harry blushed, "It was next to the books on legilimency."
Dumbledore nodded, but did not comment on the location of those books. "Tell me what you know, Harry, and I shall elucidate you."
"You can sacrifice something to obtain something else of equal value, it's similar to some alchemical laws. You can use it to enchant something, sacrificing something of value for an enchantment, or…"
"Or to gain a protection, or any number of other uses, but yes, Harry." Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill. "Your mother sacrificed her life, and every moment of happiness she may have otherwise had, to save you. I am confident that very little can overcome such a thing."
"Can you sacrifice anything other than things you love, could you use-"
"You can. You can use pain and misery to fuel a sacrifice, Harry. But I must warn you away from such a thing."
Harry nodded.
"My cloak, did you pick it up?"
Dumbledore nodded, "I believe it is resting in your trunk."
Harry sighed in relief.
"It was my father's." It wasn't a question, but there was a desire for answers there and several stronger emotions which made Harry's eyes nearly well with tears.
"It was. Your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Useful things, invisibility cloaks... your father used it primarily for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food while he was here."
Harry resolved to find the kitchens.
"Why did he leave it with you, Sir?"
"Ah, what do you know about family magic?" Harry's look told him everything he needed to know. "I shall explain. Some families hoard magical knowledge for themselves. A particularly useful grimoire, or a powerful magical cloak. Some magical families guard these things very closely and, though it is rude to inquire about such things, I impressed upon your father to allow me to examine his cloak. I believed, and still do, that it is unique. At the very least, the enchantments have seemed to hold for an extraordinarily long time."
"And there's something else..."
"Fire away."
"Quirrell said Professor Snape hates me because of my father. Is that true?"
"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy."
They loathed each other, then.
"And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."
"What?"
"He saved his life."
"What?" Now the boy was even more perplexed.
"Yes..." said Dumbledore, wearing an odd smile. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt...I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace... However, I believe you have impressed Professor Snape. He was also friends with your mother, you see, I believe he now sees her in you. Your studies in potions are, I understand, quite remarkable. Indeed, you may even remind him of himself."
"And sir, there's one more thing..."
"Just the one?"
Why was the mirror there?"
"Ah, the trap. I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. The Mirror and the Stone are both powerful pieces of magic. I couldn't very well not tell the Ministry I was keeping such a powerful artifact around their children. By bringing the Mirror here I had to register it with the Ministry, thus, I created a paper trail within the Ministry of Magic, bread crumbs to follow, so to speak. After I spoke to my old Friend Nicolas in a not at all inconspicuous manner, moved the books on alchemy to the restricted section publicly, and withdrew a small package from Gringotts with plenty of witnesses around-"
"Voldemort would think the Stone was here, when it wasn't. You wanted to trap him and destroy him." Harry interrupted. It was ingenious. "I was wondering why you left on a broom instead of apparating to the ministry."
Dumbledore beamed at him, despite his rudeness. "Harry, I would have thought you would understand a desire to fly."
Harry grinned up at him.
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Madam Pomfrey was eventually, and reluctantly, persuaded that it was perfectly safe for his friends to come and visit them.
"Harry!"
Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in; his head was still a bit sore.
"Oh, Harry -we were sure you were going to- Dumbledore was so worried that-"
He hadn't seemed worried.
"The whole school's talking about it," said Tracey. "But nobody really knows what happened. Quirrell vanished and then you were in the hospital wing, and some Hufflepuff's thought they heard screaming but I'm not sure. I think that the Hufflepuff common room must be near the third-floor corridor. So, what happened?"
Now was one of the times Tracey expected a response.
Harry grimaced. He didn't like talking about himself. It always made him uncomfortable.
"I uh, I went out…"
"Out into the castle like you usually do, go on." Daphne looked noticeably impatient.
"Yeah, that. Anyway, I suspected that someone was going to try and steal the stone-."
"The Philosopher's Stone!" It was Hermione.
Daphne elbowed her and received a quick scowl.
"I went to the third-floor corridor to wait. I was going to see if I was right, to wait for someone to steal it and tell Dumbledore. When I got there though, Professor Quirrell had already made it past Fluffy. I followed him down and he solved some other traps."
Harry hesitated. Did he tell them the truth?
He breathed, and decided to tell them everything, except what he saw in the mirror, and the legilimency; those belonged to him.
He answered their questions and cringed under the ensuing silence.
"Why didn't you tell any of us you were suspicious?" Daphne asked, looking at him coldly.
[He doesn't trust us.]
Harry supposed she wasn't wrong.
"What could you have done?"
"We would have gone with you!" Harry looked at Neville with surprise.
"He didn't think we would have." It was Lisa, who hadn't said a word until now. He didn't have to look at her to know how guilty she felt.
No, he hadn't. It was probably written on his face.
"Well what would have you guys done? We all couldn't fit under my cloak, and he would have just killed you. The only reason I'm not dead is because he felt like talking."
"Don't say that!" Hermione gasped. "We all know how you took Malfoy apart."
"It's true, though," Harry said defensively. "None of you can even cast the shield charm and he tore right through mine. He underestimated me. If there were more of us he would have blown us all apart. It's all hypothetical anyway, there was hardly enough flame freezing potion left for me."
Lisa was shaking her head close to tears.
"I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?" He pleaded.
It was Tracey "We're not upset-"
"Speak for yourself." Daphne muttered.
"-We were just worried about you." Tracey finished.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know when I was leaving that I would almost die, and even when I followed Quirrell I didn't believe he was truly trying to steal the Stone. I thought he might have just been checking on it, and I wanted to see. I never suspected him of being capable of that, of any of that. I just wanted to see the Stone."
Everyone looked at Daphne who sighed. "Fine. You're right. Just, you can tell us things, you know?"
Harry nodded. He could tell them things. They had proved it today.
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Harry snuck out of the Hospital wing despite Madam Pomfrey's watchful eyes, and stole away to the quidditch pitch just in time for the game.
It went poorly for the Ravenclaws. Both the keeper and one of the beaters were smashed by bludgers from the well-coordinated twins. That only made things easier for the Gryffindors to score. They were running away with the game. Ten minutes into things, and Ravenclaw was losing by 120 points.
Harry only tried dive bombing the foxes once. He nearly ate a bludger for his troubles and hardly disrupted their assault. It wasn't worth the risk. Then he spotted something gold and fleeting. He dived towards it, chasing it past Oliver Wood's position and barely evading a bludger, sent by one of the twins, with a roll. He lost sight of the snitch.
He returned to circling the stadium, looking for the tricky golden ball, and keeping wary eyes on the Weasley twins. The Gryffindor Seeker was diving. Had the other boy seen it? Harry blitzed towards the boy and found he was indeed chasing something gold. Harry dived as well and boxed out the enemy seeker as the snitch flew towards Harry. However, every time he got close to the snitch one of the twins would bat a bludger at him. They kept bouncing a single bludger between them aiming to knock his teeth in.
He swerved to the left, away from the bludger and felt his fingers grasp at the gleaming ball. Ravenclaw's remaining beater flew in and broke up the rhythm of the bludgers and Harry snatched the snitch before Gryffindor's seeker could close in.
Madam Pomfrey caught up to him as he landed on the grass. She dragged him off the pitch and back into a bed. Harry never protested.
When Lisa came by later he made sure to apologize more directly.
"I'm really sorry Lisa, I didn't mean to lie to you."
She glared at him, but forgave him all the same. He could tell there were some lingering feelings of guilt and some other odd emotions, but knew that time would be his greatest asset.
She handed him a slip from Professor Flitwick. It was a congratulatory note on being top in his year. He accepted it proudly. He hadn't been first in everything – Hermione beat him out in history of magic and Neville had beat him in Herbology – but Harry wasn't surprised. He could imagine Hermione's irritation with her second-place finish.
Tracey stopped by with Daphne later on, wearing a wide smirk on her face.
"Daphne was fairly upset that she wasn't second, right behind you." Tracey informed him knowingly. "She felt cheated because she outplaced Hermione in everything but Transfiguration and History. She was second right behind you in Charms, Defense and Potions and she was first in Astronomy. She was thrilled that she did better than you in that at least, but she kept fuming. She kept saying that if you had died, then she would have been first in the year."
"I was not fuming."
Really, that's the bit you want to deny?
Tracey leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "fuming," nodding sagely, although unable to suppress her impish smirk.
Daphne turned pink.
"Well it's true! Hermione didn't do better than me, she just lost less to you. She was furious when you cast the shield charm by the way. We hardly dragged her out to…"
"To?" Harry prompted as she trailed off.
Daphne looked at Tracey.
"We had a meeting about you, we tried to convince Lisa not to let you go out again." Oh right, that. They couldn't know he had already found out.
"You had a meeting behind my back?"
Daphne was concerned at how he might react, he felt from her thoughts. She worried he might think of it as a form of betrayal, and even Tracey leaned back, hunched in preparation. He paused for effect as though considering it.
"We were just worried- It wasn't like we were lying to you- we just meant to-"
"How did you and Hermione survive one another?" He interrupted, causing Daphne to freeze, wide-eyed, before she abruptly threw a book at him.
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Hermione and Neville came by together later to talk to him. Neville had evidently realized some things about how Harry ended up standing in front of Quirrell.
"I think he meant for you to go. I mean you implied he knew about you going out in the castle," said Neville. "I think he planned it all, sending you your father's cloak and everything."
"Well, " Hermione exploded, it seemed they'd been discussing this already and she had some points to make. "If he did, I mean to say, that's terrible! You could have been killed."
"No, it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. " I reckon he had a pretty good idea what I might do. But even as smart as he his, I don't think he could have coordinated everything that got me there at the right time and the right place; and you're right. If everything hadn't gone perfectly I would've been killed."
"I dunno," said Neville. "He's as bright as they come, and more than a little mad." Harry recalled Dumbledore's reaction to eating a Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans beside Harry's bed, and his speech after the opening feast.
It's an act. Just like mine.
"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Neville sad. "My gran thinks he's a loon, but she'd never cross him. He's a centennial wizard."
"Well yeah, I'm sure his age contributes to his…" Hermione paused looking for the right word, "eccentricity, but that's not-"
"No! I mean, well, yes." Neville got out. "That's not what a centennial wizard is. A centennial wizard is the sort of wizard who is born every hundred years. Have you heard the phrase 'a one-hundred-year storm'? It's like that, you know? A wizard who is so powerful and talented and great that they can't help but shape the world and the lives of the people around them."
Harry considered that. "Like Merlin or something?"
Neville nodded and Madam Pomfrey came in, likely to shoo them out. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Ravenclaw won, Dumbledore gave you a hundred points but nobody else knows why. It's driving the Slytherins mad."
The next morning, Harry felt nearly back to his old health.
"I want to go to the feast," he told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes.
I can, can't I?"
"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion feasts were dangerous business.
He supposed he earned that after sneaking out to play Quidditch.
"Plus, you have a visitor." It was Hagrid and he was shaking with guilt.
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Hagrid informed Harry that he had been tricked into telling Quirrell how to get past Fluffy. After Harry managed to reassure the half-giant that Voldemort would have found another way through anyway, Hagrid gave him something he would treasure forever. The giant had written to Harry's parents' friends and put together a photo album. Harry had to resort to occlumency exercises to not cry before the feast.
Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last check up, so the Great Hall was already full, completely decked out in blue and bronze to celebrate. A huge banner proudly displayed the Ravenclaw eagle that covered the wall behind the High Table; likely Flitwick's touch.
Why in Merlin's name isn't the sigil of Ravenclaw a raven?
There was a hush as Harry stepped into the Hall, muted to a scattered few whispers as he moved to sit next to Lisa at the table, already surrounded by her year mates. Across from him was Michael Corner who grinned as Harry walked in.
Harry listened to the old man's waxing speech. It was as odd as anything that Dumbledore had a hand in ever was. It ended on a good note, and the feast was delicious.
All too suddenly, their wardrobes were empty and their trunks were all packed up. It all made Harry more than a little nervous. He worried that however they were packed, someone might have seen his books and cloak. At least he had snuck the restricted books back to their proper places. He figured he could get away with quite a bit, but taking the restricted texts might be pushing it. He still had no clue where he was going for the summer.
Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets, and Harry committed the strange toad's hiding place to memory.
They boarded the Hogwarts express all together and, unlike when he first arrived, Harry didn't feel any anxiety about talking or a desire to lock the door. Hermione and Daphne were even, dare he say it, cordial to each other. Lisa dropped by from her Ravenclaw friends part of the way through and went back some time later. Harry had been getting quieter and quieter as they approached, it grew until Daphne finally asked him why.
"Oh uh, I don't- er- really know where I'm staying this summer. He said, er - Dumbledore – said, I wasn't going to go back to my aunt and uncle, but that was at the beginning. Beginning of the year, that is, but he didn't tell me anything else."
Hermione looked more than a little concerned.
Harry interrupted quickly "I'm sure Dumbledore has a plan, though."
"It's Dumbledore." Neville nodded sagely. Like he had just given them all some unexpected and hidden knowledge.
Harry stepped onto the platform, he said goodbye to his friends and promised to write. "I'll send you an owl Harry." Tracey looked thrilled at the thought.
"Thanks," said Harry, "I might need something to look forward to."
People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:
"Bye, Harry!"
"See you, Potter!"
"So popular and famous, Potter." Daphne teased him.
He groaned.
"There he is, Mom, there he is, look!"
It was a young red-haired girl that couldn't be anybody but Ron's younger sister, Ginny, but she wasn't pointing at Ron.
"Harry Potter!" she squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see him."
Harry panicked. Ron Weasley turned around and glared at him.
What the…!
Harry had a strong desire to apparate.
"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point."
His friends began to trickle away. He didn't see Lisa again but had promised to write earlier. Then, he met Daphne's sister and mother.
"You must be Harry," the woman greeted warmly, while Astoria scowled. He read her quickly and found she was jealous she still had two years left until she could go to Hogwarts.
"Yes ma'am," he replied, politely shaking her hand.
"You must imagine my surprise when I found out my daughter was Harry Potter's best friend." She said. "I never saw it coming."
Daphne's mother was a beautiful green-eyed witch with honey colored hair like her daughter.
Daphne flushed pink.
You can't imagine my surprise either.
"I didn't either, it just sort of happened."
Tracey went with Daphne, they were going to spend part of the summer together.
Harry greeted Mr. and Mrs. Granger just as politely, telling them her daughter was the brightest witch of her age.
Hermione's eyes swore vengeance when he emphasized 'witch' lightly and teasingly. He was sure she would spend the summer reading all that she could.
It was only as the platform began to clear that Neville's grandmother arrived.
Augusta Longbottom was a stern and austere looking woman. She was serious-faced and her mouth seemed perpetually in a short line.
Neville waved her down with a grin, "Gran!" He shouted, he was clutching his exam scores. He froze when he saw someone walking beside her, none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"Afternoon Harry, Mr. Longbottom. I have just been talking to Augusta-"
Neville almost dropped his toad when Dumbledore referred to his grandmother by her first name.
"-and since your parents were both good friends, we decided that it might be best if Harry stayed with her for the summer. Of course, I called in a few favors, and-" Harry's jaw dropped as Dumbledore continued through the minutia. He would be staying with Neville. The two friends shared a bright grin.
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Harry had the most wonderful summer of his life that year. He traded letters with all his friends, and he and Neville celebrated a combined birthday. It had to be his second greatest birthday ever. Augusta Longbottom, on the other hand, was a strict and serious woman. She hadn't been pleased with Neville's Transfiguration grade but several of the other grades, like Defense and Herbology, at least made her content.
Harry had already known the truth about Neville's parents, but seeing it with Neville was sobering. Frank and Alice were inside a room at Saint Mungo's, their eyes open but not really seeing anything. Harry was tempted to try legilimency on the two, but thought better of it. Neville never met Harry's eyes that day. Harry suspected he felt something like shame at the state of his parents. Harry was struggling to pin the emotion down.
Harry had to do a few chores around the house for room and board, but compared to the work he did at the Dursley's, it was extremely light and easy. Aside from that, he was allowed a large degree of freedom.
"You're not my grandson," Augusta had scowled. "Why should I care what you do?"
Harry was allowed to study his magic in peace within the room Mrs. Longbottom had granted him, and he and Neville spent their free time playing wizarding games of all sorts, like exploding snap. Harry also found the time to practice a little quidditch.
Harry once found himself listening for almost an hour about turkish soil types and a Nepalese wizard who was growing gravity resistant trees. At the thought, Harry's mind was filled with images of floating magical plants writhing in the air.
"What does that even mean? Gravity resistant?"
"Well the trees don't have to work as hard to move nutrients around, so they can grow taller and produce more fruit. He wants to apply it to other magical plants to increase stock of brewing supplies."
It sounded fairly complicated, and quite probably brilliant.
Harry loved it, the house was magical. It even had a house elf, called Batty, and the way it zipped around, taking care of everything Harry had once done at the Dursley's, was just wonderful.
Harry was visited by another House elf that summer, one that warned him not to go to Hogwarts but was chased away by Batty. Dobby was the house elf's name and when Harry described what had happened, Mrs. Longbottom didn't seem overly concerned. She assured him she would look into it and that he was, most certainly, returning to Hogwarts.
As if to confirm her assertion, he recieved his letter the next day, informing him about the books he would need. The list was rather long, with Gilderoy Lockhart's name dominating the paper. Neville's gran took Neville shopping in the alley earlier in the week, so Harry figured he was expected to do it on his own.
He apparated close to the alley with a crack and made his way down the promenade. Naturally, he stopped by Gringotts first to collect from his trust vault. It had been refilled from the other vaults the Goblins held in trust until he reached his majority, but Harry had barely scratched the gold inside. He didn't know how he could be expected spend so much money, but he started by buying new clothes and restocking his school supplies. He had started running low on quills after Daphne began to nick them for her project.
Harry spotted a familiar gaggle of red hair as he made his way towards Flourish and Blotts. The tallest brother, that he couldn't recall the name of, was immersed in a book, Prefects Who Gained Power, and Harry eyed him for a moment.
He's ambitious, and at the very least dedicated to his tasks.
Harry spotted Ron Weasley with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. They had all bonded over their lack of dedication to school throughout the last year, and they were currently shoving their way inside the overcrowded shop.
Harry elected not to enter the bookstore, giving it a wide berth. He elected to wait until the shop emptied. Even the thought of being inside, so close to other people, where it would be hot and hard to breathe; it made him nauseous.
He put the bookstore out of mind and sat on a bench to wait the crowd out. He kept it that way, until a fist fight broke out inside. Two grown wizards were swinging their fists at one another like muggles. There was a clatter of metal and a cauldron full of books skidded out into the street from inside. A red-haired man wearing slightly ragged clothing was on top of a blond wizard, whose clothing was decidedly more refined.
"Get him Dad!"
"No, Arthur, no!"
The crowd stampeded backward, knocking over shelves and sending books flying everywhere.
"Gentlemen, please — please!" cried a new voice, Harry assumed it was the shop owner. The pale-haired man managed to get out from beneath the other. Harry saw Draco Malfoy standing idly by, smirking. The blonde man – Harry assumed Draco's father, Lucius – shoved something into Ginny's arms. Apparently, it was her cauldron that fell prey to the two men's struggle.
How many Weasleys are there?
When Draco fell into step beside his father he saw Harry and stiffened, going slightly pale. Lucius noticed and took sight of Harry, sitting patiently. Harry supposed it might take even longer now until he could explore the book store.
Harry met Draco's eyes.
[Book…Father…Potter…]
He also the caught the memory of himself flinging Draco down a corridor. He felt it at the surface of Draco's mind and held it there.
"If it isn't, Harry Potter, the Boy Who-Lived." There was a sneer on Lucius' face. He somehow managed to sound both perfectly polite and perfectly condescending; it was… actually pretty impressive.
"You must be Lucius; your son speaks highly of you." Harry stood, walking forwards, offering his hand. His face was indifferent. Lucius scowled and pulled his son along with him, leaving Harry's hand extended.
"A fine example to set for your children…brawling in public…what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-" He heard a woman complain.
"He was pleased. Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report; said it was all publicity."
Harry turned back towards the store, and the cluster of redheads standing amongst knocked over shelves. He picked up the cauldron and walked it towards the family. That's about when they noticed him, and their conversation promptly died.
Ron scrunched his face up, and the girl whose cauldron had been flung turned bright beat red as Harry walked up.
"Hello," Harry greeted, nodding to Ron, Dean, and Seamus politely. He offered Ginny her cauldron. "Out doing some school shopping?"
Ron scrunched up his face further. He probably wanted to say something malicious about Harry, but he couldn't with family around. After all, Harry had done nothing to antagonize him… yet. The other boy was the jealous and unsuccessful sort who wanted things, but was loath to work for them. He despised Harry's successes and fame.
Whatever Mrs. Weasley was going to say was drowned out by something behind them.
"It can't be Harry Potter." A man was stepping towards Harry with a brilliant smile. Harry recognized him from his shopping list. The man was famous and approaching Harry quickly, so he took a step back.
"It was a pleasure," Harry hurriedly told the group in front of the entrance before stepping back into the alley. The crowd tried to part for the man, but there simply wasn't room with the collapsed shelves. Harry quickly walked down the street, turned a corner, and apparated away.
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As term drew closer, Harry found himself glad to be leaving for Hogwarts. A sort of nervous energy filled the air in the Longbottom household. Augusta Longbottom seemed to remind her son every few moments that she expected better grades from him, and would constantly lecture him on his father's successes.
When Harry and Neville arrived at King's Cross and attempted to get through the barrier onto the platform, they found that it wasn't functioning properly. A queue of witches and wizards began to form, attempting to get through, but none were successful, and a Ministry official had to be summoned. The man took some time fiddling with the barrier until they were able to enter again.
The two boys found Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione in a compartment already and took his seat. Tracey was so excited she was vibrating. Harry kept giving her owl worried glances; her excitement was shaking the poor thing's cage. Tracey told stories about what she and Daphne had done together over the summer for almost half an hour while they waited to depart.
"So, what happened to you guys? Why was the train delayed, did you know that this marks the first time in a hundred and fifty years that's happened?"
"One hundred and fifty-six," corrected Hermione. It was likely her who had informed them, given her encyclopedic knowledge of Hogwarts, A History.
"The barrier malfunctioned, and we couldn't get through." Neville explained "A bunch of other families got trapped behind us and we had to wait for the Ministry to fix it. They were talking about obliviating the muggles because of what they saw.".
Harry caught up with Daphne on her next enchanting project, which actually involved the both of them.
She held up a small circular mirror, the size of her palm.
"I want to enchant a set, so that two or more people can communicate through it. Think of how useful it would be. If you had one when you followed Quirrell, you could have called us for help."
He gave her a look; she really needed to let that one go. He could, however, see the uses.
"How were you planning on doing it?"
"Well ideally, you'd say the name of the person you wanted to talk to, and it would connect you. They could hear it and they'd answer."
He frowned. It was complex.
"You want to be able to see the other person through the mirror as well, don't you?"
She nodded.
It would require separate auditory and visual connections from each mirror to the others. They might be able to modify a password spell for activating the different enchantments where the password was the name of the person you wanted to speak to. But, that would require entirely separate connections between each mirror and the others. It would work, but it was a clumsy solution.
"Did you want to use a password charm?" He asked her after a moment of rubbing his jaw.
She bit her lip. "I did…"
She had already considered the issues he was thinking of.
"You want to make a single hub that connects through then?" That was… fairly bright. It would only require a single connection from each mirror to the hub rather than from each mirror to each and every other mirror.
She nodded.
"How did you know?"
I read your mind and it was easy to guess.
"It's a better solution than separate connections. I would have recommended it."
They spit-balled ideas on how to make a working hub that would connect with all the other mirrors.
"The problem with that is that only one person could be using the mirrors at time."
"We could just do two hubs, but I suppose that has the same issue of a large number of enchantments, as enchanting them separately," she conceded.
The muggle towns rolled away as the group caught up with one another. They changed, and when the engine pulled in they unloaded unto the horse drawn carriages which took the older students up to the castle. This was the first time Harry got to see the sorting from an outside perspective, and watched it with interest from the Ravenclaw table. Lisa was sitting next to him, and after they exchanged greetings, promised to catch up properly after the sorting. Dumbledore's speech was as odd as ever, and the feast was delicious as always.
"Well, we went to the United States to visit some family. My parents wanted to see the place where they captured Grindelwald."
Harry looked at her, his knowledge of the Great War was fuzzy at best.
She must have noticed and seemed happy to take the role of the lecturer. "Well, Grindelwald went to the United States to look for something. The Americans captured him and were going to imprison him in Azkaban – the prison used by the British ministry and infamous for the use of Dementors as guards – but he escaped before they could. He broke out of a lot of places until Dumbledore put him in Nurmengard."
"I don't know much about the Great War," he confessed. "I'm much more familiar with the Muggles' World War II."
Lisa nodded, happy to explain, she was grinning.
[I finally get to teach him something for once.]
"My mother is a witch and my father's a muggle so I know about both of them. So, Grindelwald was kicked out of Durmstrang, even though he was the best student they ever had. He still holds several academic records there, and he carved his symbol into the halls before he left." Harry nodded. He knew most of that.
"He built up followers in Germany and allied with the German muggles, wanting to destroy the Statute of Secrecy, he thought it was abominable that wizards and witches had to hide from muggles. He went to the US looking for something, but nobody knows what. There's all kinds of theories that he was looking for a weapon of some kind, but no one is certain. The Americans somehow brought him down and tried to imprison him, but he broke out. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he killed thousands of wizards in the US."
Harry hadn't known that. "He went to the States and never tried to invade Britain?" That didn't seem right.
Lisa nodded, "They say he was afraid of Dumbledore, but Dumbledore was just teaching Transfiguration here at the time. He was talented, but he hadn't become the greatest wizard of our age yet."
When the feast ended, the Ravenclaw prefects held up the first-years in the Hall for a few minutes while the older students went up, so the younger students could have their chance to open the knocker. Harry was thrilled to be back, though, he intended to steal away to the Restricted Section at the first opportunity. He now had a mental shopping list that he wanted to check out.
He made sure to inform Lisa of where he was going this time, so she wouldn't think he was going behind her back. She wasn't pleased about letting him go after what happened last year.
"What? You think I'm going to run into Voldemort again? I'm just going to take a few books and come right back, alright? It won't even take an hour."
"Fine, but I get to go with you."
He blanched. "What?"
"You said your clock could fit several people, so we're going together."
He groaned, having already read her and knowing she wasn't going to relent.
"Fine, alright. Meet me down here at midnight. If you don't show up, I'm leaving without you." She smiled brightly and accepted.
As promised, he stole away with her under the cloak after silencing their feet. He hoped Filch would be too tired to be on the lookout on the first night back, but Peeves was still a menace that Harry needed to keep an eye out for. Eventually, they made it to the Library. Lisa, who had looked nervous before, was much more so now.
"Won't they notice some books missing?"
Harry shook his head. "I took several from here last year, Dumbledore knew but he didn't scold me or anything."
They crept over the divider between the restricted section and the rest of the library.
Once they were through Lisa, glanced around timidly. She reached out for one of the books that had a dark stain on it and read The Talents of Herpo the Foul.
Harry grabbed her wrist before she could touch it, making her squeal in surprise.
"Don't touch any of the books, alright? Especially the ones that talk."
"What!" She squeaked.
[They talk?]
"Shhh!"
"Sorry." She looked around, she could hear it now.
[I should have just let him go. I don't want to be here.]
"We'll be back up in just a second."
Her anxiety was spreading to him through the contact, so he receded into his own mind and calmed himself.
He kneeled down and pulled Peace and Quiet off the bottom shelf and continued forward to the next book he had chosen. He snagged The Alchemical Properties of Blood and The Sixth Element of Witchcraft.
"Are those all that you wanted?"
"No, there's a few more."
He grabbed The Subtle Legilimens and The Introduction to Augeomency from the mind arts section, then Nonfatal Curses.
She looked at him.
"D-do you r-really want a-all those books, or-r are you trying to scare me in-into not c-co-coming again?" Her voice was shaking. He sighed.
[Was Terry Boot right about Harry?]
He stiffened at her thought, face twitching. He cleared his mind as quickly as possible.
"I want to be a great wizard, Lisa, I need to know about magic," he explained slowly and softly, careful to keep parseltongue from entering his words. "All magic."
She looked at him dreadfully.
"I guarantee Dumbledore has read every one of these books. So why shouldn't I?"
She shook her head. "He's Dumbledore and-"
"I'm just a twelve-year-old."
She brought her hands to her face and scrunched her face into her fists.
"I have to know about it. Look here, Nonfatal Curses. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to study magic."
He felt her accept his words slightly and he swallowed back his anger.
It was a half-truth, though, Nonfatal Curses was full of dangerous and powerful spells. It's just that none of them would kill you outright if you were on the wrong end. Well, some of them could eventually, and in the right circumstances, but there was nothing outright lethal like blood-boiling or entrail-expelling curses.
"Come on, let's go."
They hurried back to the tower, and Harry told a frightful Lisa goodnight. The trip to the restricted section seemed to scare her more than Harry would have thought.
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"How was your summer, Harry?" Said Michael Corner, sitting next to him at the Ravenclaw table. To Harry's right, Lisa was rubbing her eyes sleepily, her friends firing Harry nervous glances.
She got caught.
[She was out with him.]
[What were they doing out the first day back?]
Mandy Brocklehurst and Su Li had never been the most suspicious of him, but him taking their friend out on the first night of the year seemed to unsettle them. He sighed mentally.
"It was relaxing, but I'm glad to be back."
Michael nodded, he was a Ravenclaw and could easily understand the desire to return to school.
"Did you do anything interesting?" Harry asked the other boy.
"Nah, I mostly just read my summer away."
Harry gave him an honest, wistful look.
He didn't have a moment to continue because Professor Flitwick arrived handing out schedules. He had Defense against the Dark arts first thing with the Slytherins, soat least he could look forward to Daphne and Tracey. He stood up and left the table.
He opened his mouth to ask how Michael's parents were doing, knowing full well, from the boy's mind, that his mother was a talented Potioneer and had was going to publish a process for refining Essence of Dittany from the seeds of the plant, when there was a flash of light.
Harry came up short, startled and blinked. One of the new Ravenclaws was staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching an old muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him he turned bright red.
"All right, Harry? I'm – I'm Colin Creevey." He was breathless. "I'm in Ravenclaw just like you. I just wanted a picture of you."
Bloody hell, the kid asked the hat to put him in Ravenclaw just to be near Harry.
I've never had a stalker before.
"Why would you want a picture of me?"
Michael shot harry a disbelieving look.
[Because you're bloody Harry Potter.]
Alright, so it was a dumb question.
"So, I can prove I've met you," Colin said eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me; about how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you, and how he disappeared and everything, and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead." His eyes raked Harry's hairline, and Harry's hands almost twitched to his chest for his wand.
The trauma curse would scare him off.
He shook his head. No. Bad Harry, Dumbledore is watching. He trusted him to use that access responsibly.
"And a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move!" Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic 'till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So, I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him, and I thought it'd be really good if I had one of you. Would you sign it?"
No.
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" The Slytherins, of course. It was Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. Pansy and Millicent were behind the boys, while Tracey and Daphne stood behind them. Zabini looked fairly confident, but Draco seemed nervous.
If one of them shoots a spell at me first…
"Everyone should line up! Gather around!" Harry reached slowly for his wand, and Draco took a step back. Harry wanted to grin.
"No photos," he said softly, stepping towards the Slytherin boys. Draco and his bodyguards stepped back. Nott looked at Draco and scoffed. Blaise chuckled lightly but neither of them backed down.
Trying to make a name for yourself in Slytherin?
He crept into the boy's mind. Adding rage and anger and mixing it with confidence. Nott drew his wand and Harry opened his arms in invitation. Michael stepped away from Harry, but the boy ignored it. Lisa and her friends came up the steps with Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot.
Do it.
Harry added fuel with legilimency, stirring up the boy's emotions.
The other boy raised his wand. "You think you're so great ever since you took Malfoy down, don't you Potter? But he's hardly a duelist. Someone should educate you."
Please, I need to practice some spells. This is education.
Then he struck a match.
"By all means. We're supposed to bow, I believe, before a duel."
Nott scoffed, and Harry lit the flame.
He reached out with his free hand and gestured, pushing Nott into a bow with his wandless magic, it was a continuous shoving magical push. It wasn't neatly done, and it wasn't refined in any sense of the word, but it worked. The boy leaned most of the way over and stumbled closer to Harry, in what might have been generously considered a bow.
The boy looked back up furiously.
[How dare he?! I'll set the arrogant bastard on fire!]
Nott wasn't doing half measures. Harry shoved Michael and Colin further out of the way while Nott raised his wand again, already recovered. Harry subtly waved his wand at Colin's camera as he gave the boy a push, intending to destroy the film. He heard a sparking noise from it and assumed he'd at least done something to it. Magic and muggle electronics were a dangerous game.
"Incendio!"
Tracey gasped, and Lisa looked downright horrified.
"Protego." He sheltered himself from the flames behind a slightly blue and translucent shield charm which caught the fire.
Nott looked surprised.
Idiot. In this pond you're a small fish.
Harry twisted his wand in an aggressive curling and jabbing motion.
"Traumino," he whispered quietly, only allowing the spell to act for a moment. "Finite. Flippendo." The last one he incanted much louder.
The boy had dropped his wand staring at Harry in horror. Harry drank the emotion in before he flung the boy a few more meters further than he had even thrown Malfoy.
The boy was gasping and wheezing on the ground, attempting to crawl away from Harry. That made him frown, he had hoped for a stronger effect; less simple fear, and more pants-wetting terror.
He looked at Zabini invitingly, the boy had taken a step back when Harry preformed wandless magic and was gaping at the feat.
"How about you?" Harry asked his tone was polite and soft. "Care to teach me a lesson?"
The boy shook his head jerkily.
He looked down. Colin's camera was a mess, but he was looking up at Harry with awe.
Not my proudest move.
"T-Thanks," the boy stammered.
Harry smiled gently, cursing on the inside. He would do something else to scare Colin away.
"Reparo." The camera came back together. "You should ask in the future before taking someone's photo, alright? Don't do it again." Harry let Parseltongue slip a little into his last few words. The boy quickly nodded.
Leave me alone, Colin, or I'll use my freaky mind powers on you.
Harry looked over to see Daphne and Tracey. A quick glance in their eyes revealed they were impressed but not afraid. They hadn't seen the curse. He looked at Lisa, and she was more horrified for Harry's sake, rather than horrified at what he had done. It all looked like self-defense.
[Maybe Harry was right…]
Harry felt relieved; that was one less problem. He got what he wanted, and unless Dumbledore or Snape spent a great deal of time in the boy's memories, he was fine on that end.
Harry turned and continued his way to defense.
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After a few moments, Michael caught up and asked, "How long have you been able to do the shield charm?"
"I used it at the end of last year for credit in Charms."
"So that's how you got first." There was a moment. "You know, I heard that Colin's not your only fan. Evidently some Gryffindor first year has a huge crush on you."
Harry felt bewildered. "Whoever they are, they've never even met me."
Michael laughed. "You better watch out, they might form a Harry Potter fan club together."
Harry didn't have to fake a groan. He pushed open the door to the Defense classroom and Michael took the seat next to him.
Lisa's friends encouraged her to sit next to them, and Anthony and Terry Boot sat in front of Harry and Michael. Daphne and Tracey plopped down on Harry's other side.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Terry Boot's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he said, pointing at his image and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award - but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly. "I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in." When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start - now!"
Harry looked down at his paper and read:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Oh my god. We're two for two on nutjobs.
Harry could only glance up at the man in disbelief. Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"
The Professor bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.
"Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm. I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
Lockhart whipped off the cover. "Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."
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When the man idiotically released the Cornish Pixies, Daphne immobilized them with the freezing charm as they rushed out. It was a well-cast spell, very fast too. He told her as much and she turned slightly pink. She was talented with her charms. Harry felt a strong desire to test the reducto curse on clump of pixies that were frozen at the exit of the cage.
After listening to Professor Lockhart's attempt to save face for a few minutes, the bell rang and it was time for lunch. After that, they replanted mandrakes in the greenhouses with Professor Sprout, and, while good, Michael was not half the herbology partner Neville was and Harry felt his decent ranking in the class slipping away.
After dinner he found his way the room where he practiced magic last year and sighed. Daphne was already waiting for him when he arrived.
"You are so teaching me the shield charm." Harry believed Daphne when she said it and spent some time demonstrating the wand movement and the concepts behind the charm.
"Protego," she attempted again. "Protego!"
"Now you're just shouting."
"Well what would you recommend?!" She was incensed.
He pointed his wand at her, saying, "Expelliarmus." He spoke slowly in order to give her time to realize what he was planning.
"Protego," she said desperately. She managed a shimmering barrier that he shattered. He caught her wand.
She gave him a heated look. "So what? What was I doing wrong that made you shoot a spell at me?"
"You had nothing to protect, so your intent to protect something wasn't present when you tried to cast." He returned her wand. "Let's do it again."
It took her a few more attempted, but she managed a weak-looking silvery barrier that managed to repel some of his hexes.
He looked at her for a moment. Trying to read what was going through her head.
"You've been fairly short with me today."
"Hmmm." It was noncommittal and aggressive, all at once.
[I can't believe he showed her his cloak before me.]
She was upset over that? That he showed Lisa his cloak first? It seemed small, but he believed he could find a resolution. He would just offer to let her study some of the enchantments on the cloak with him.
"What did I-"
Tracey came rushing in. "Sorry, I was just sending a letter to my dad, he wanted to make sure I was alright. You know how parents worr-eeeep."
He gave her a mock glare before doing a one-eighty and chuckling at the faux pas. She swung at him but missed when he stepped back.
"It's not funny." He was still laughing when she said it.
"She's right, it isn't." Daphne was looking at him speculatively. "You always laugh when something like that happens. People are worried they offend you and you just laugh."
He stopped chuckling. "So what? I'm an orphan." Tracey flinched at his words. He looked at her. "Well, I am. Walking on eggshells around me about it won't bring them back, and someone talking about their own parents won't kill them again."
Tracey and Daphne shared a look. "So, you don't care about your parents?" Daphne asked cautiously.
He felt indignant now. "That's not what I said."
"It's what you implied!" Daphne pushed. Tracey nodded her agreement, still looking a little red.
"I just meant that it's okay. I've had time to accept that I'm an orphan."
"Stop saying that!"
"Why should I?"
"It's callous!"
"It's true. I have no parents. I am an orphan. That's what the word means."
"So you've just accepted that they're gone? Just like that?"
"I have had years to get used to it!" When was the last time he raised his voice to her? Or the last time, period?
"I've had years to get used to my Dad being gone, and I haven't gotten used to it!" Daphne was snarling at this point, and Harry took it as a sign to clear his mind. Daphne never talked about her late father, but Harry knew that it affected her deeply that he was gone. He had been a strong man who loved his children more than anything else. He died when she was eight and she hadn't gotten used to living without him.
Furthermore, it put her family at risk with no lord to act for them. Their family gold had been swallowed up by other pureblood families and they had no way to truly negotiate and no access to some of their family magics. The Greengrass family would die with Daphne and her sister.
He took a moment. She was fuming and in his face. "I never knew them. I didn't lose anything like you did. It's not the same."
She looked close to tears and promptly stormed out. Tracey followed her with an apologetic glance over her shoulder.
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"Friendship is one mind and two bodies" - Mencius
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Little drama here. Harry's character develops, we learn more about Daphne.
I liked this last quote. Though I don't think this situation is quite what Mencius had in mind.
No Luna Lovegood yet so stay hyped.
Because I like to discuss stuff I created a Forum for this story. You can ask me questions there.
WG
Edited 1/31/18