Part 6
A/N
Holy crow, I have to wonder how many commenters have actually had teenaged boys. I have had two, and let me tell you: they are locusts. One of my friends actually put a lock on her pantry, her teenager ate so much. Mine went from 4 ft to 6ft in like 2 years. That kind of growth takes calories. Ron does not have a tapeworm.
We're meeting Sirius this chapter. He doesn't have a tapeworm, either.
~~ scene ~~
The first weeks of school, Potter Spotting – as Harry liked to refer to his "fans" as gawkers or spotters – took on a new frenzy. The Daily Prophet had revealed all the salacious details and confirmed the rumors that had been flying about the castle:
- The Potter will named Sirius Black as Harry's godfather, and Peter Pettigrew as the Potter's secret keeper. Black did not, in fact, betray the Potters.
- The supposed target of Sirius Black's (now fully understood) murderous ire was, in fact, not murdered. Peter Pettigrew, erstwhile winner of the Order of Merlin, was revealed to be alive.
- Harry Potter himself uncovered these facts, being the hero that the Boy Who Lived truly must be. (Well, Crookshanks really deserved the credit, but few wanted to make a muddy kneazle a hero!)
- Sirius Black had turned himself in to Saint Mungo's for treatment, and all charges against him had been dropped. There would be a trial which would erase the conviction of the tribunal. He might even get an apology from the ministry (but no one was holding their breath on that one.)
There was speculation, prognostication, and other gossip. Harry weathered the storm, keeping his head down, spending time with his friends.
He spent a lot of time out of doors, too, since at least it was harder to track him down when he was outside. And he could wonder about the progress of Pettigrew's trial and Sirius's healing.
"Hullo, Harry!" He heard Hagrid's voice calling him. The big man was feeling some guilt over what was happening with his friend, Buckbeak. He'd spent the morning flooing up other folks, trying to find someone to take up Beaky's defense, and a visit with Harry would take his mind off it.
"Hey, Hagrid." Harry smiled a little.
"Come in, come in, have a spot of tea."
It was Saturday, Harry'd finished quidditch practice, done his charms and transfigurations homework, and had needed a break before he was going to buckle down and do his arithmancy assignment. Especially since the Potter Spotters had tracked him down in his corner of the library, earlier.
Tea with Hagrid would be just the thing.
Hagrid puttered about as Harry sat and patted at Fang, the drooling dog.
"Dinna make any rock cakes this morning. Sorry. Busy tryin' to find someone to help Buckbeak." Stopping to shake his head, Hagrid proceeded to pour the boiling water into the pot, warming it.
"Don't worry, Hagrid," the boy tried to cheer his giant friend. "Hermione is on the case. Malfoy doesn't stand a chance. She's got a bunch of us looking up case law and creature rights and what not."
"Tha' Hermione. Great girl." After he dumped the water, he added the tea and more water and dug out a pack of biscuits from the store. "Glad to see whatever was wrong wit you and the youngest Weasley boy, yeh figgered it out."
Harry smiled weakly again. "Yeah. We're still mates."
"Yer da, he was like that. Had his best mates, and nothing was gunna split em up. We all thought, anyway. Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew." He pulled out his pipe, more to chew on than to smoke, as he sat to jaw with Harry.
"Professor Lupin?" The new defense professor hadn't singled out Harry at all, and his lessons (though Harry had only had two) had been great. Well, the boggart had been better than great – it had been brilliant – except the professor hadn't let Harry face it. He'd explained to Harry that he thought Harry's boggart might be You Know Who… though Harry rather thought it might be Dumbledore, so he was glad to skip the lesson personally.
"Yep, the Marauders, they called themselves. Got into all kinds of mischief they did. Pranks galore. But usually in good fun. Only when they went against Slytherins, like… well… I shouldn'a talk about that."
"Professor Lupin wasn't in the will. Mr. Black and Pettigrew were, though." Harry almost spit the second name in his disgust. Hagrid just shook his head then poured the tea into mugs, pushing the milk toward Harry.
"Shame about Black, it is. All these years, with them dementers in Azkaban, and completely innocent…" Hagrid sipped at his tea, shaking his head. He still had nightmares of his own dealings with the nasty buggers.
"Yeah. At least he's getting help now."
"I can never thank ye enough," Hagrid picked up a biscuit for himself and looked at Harry for a long moment. Harry looked back quizzically. "For gettin' me outta there."
"If my stupid Boy Who Livedness is useful for that, then I guess it's worth it. I still can't believe that Minister Fudge and Mr. Malfoy put you in there without anyone saying a word." The magical world had some seriously screwy laws and courts, in Harry's opinion.
"Well, with the whole case of Myrtle Warren…" Hagrid hesitantly put in. He didn't like thinking about the past much, but Harry deserved some truth, given what he'd done for Hagrid.
"Moaning Myrtle? Riddle killed her. He admitted as much." Sipping at his tea, Harry shrugged a bit. The biscuits were one of his favorite kind, so he snuck one and dipped it in the steaming brew.
"Riddle?" Who on earth was Riddle? Hagrid wondered.
"Didn't you know? That was You Know Who's real name. Tom Riddle." Harry was used to not using Voldemort anymore. He understood why people feared that name, now. And he sure wasn't going to use the name the jerk wanted to be called by.
"Tom Riddle? He was a Slytherin. In school with me. He killed Myrtle?" Astonishment filled Hagrid's voice. He'd not liked Tommy Riddle, but he'd not thought the bloke to be his enemy, either.
"Well, he didn't cast a spell or anything. His great ruddy snake killed her." Harry told what he had learned from the diary ghost in the chamber.
"All this time." Hagrid sat back and looked up in wonder. "I got the blame for You Know Who's killin' Myrtle. I knew it couldn't have been Aragog."
"Oh, it could have been." The fear of Hagrid's friends was visceral in Harry's voice. "He and his kids were going to eat Ron and me."
"Pish posh," Hagrid waved that away. "I'm sure they were just playin' wit yeh."
Harry knew he couldn't win this argument, so he went back to the other.
"Well, at least we don't have to deal with those dementor thingies here. They were going to put them here to protect us from Sirius Black. It was bad enough, them being on the alley when I was staying there."
Hagrid shuddered.
"Poor Sirius." The giant of a man leaned back into his chair, making it creak in protest. "I reckon I was one of the last to see 'im. That night."
"That night?" Harry had heard bits and pieces before, but he figured this was his chance to get a clear picture. Hagrid had a mighty loose lip.
"When yer mum and da… well… Dumbledore sent me to get yah. Great man, Dumbledore. Knew you were in danger… Black was there… Poor Lily and James." Hagrid's voice trailed off, real sorrow in his tone.
This didn't jibe with what happened, in Harry's mind. "You saw me that night?"
"Dinna I say? Dumbledore knew yer mum and da were gone, that You Know Who killed em."
"How'd he know all that?" And why send someone who couldn't defend anyone with magic? Harry was just betting that the stupid Headbastard had some motive behind it all. Arsehole.
"Brilliant man, Dumbledore. They were targets, ya know. He had wards of some kind on 'em."
"Why didn't he come get me himself?"
Hagrid shrugged. "I only got through OWLS, Harry. I don't know what Dumbledore knows. I only did what he said. Get to the cottage and protect you. Get you to that muggle house."
"That muggle house?" A suspicion was creeping into Harry's gut, making him cold all over.
"The one the order was protectin'." He saw Harry's confusion. "You Know Who, he was after yer mum and da somethin' fierce. His people killed almost all the Potters. They killed yer grandparents – yer mum's parents. Yer mum found a way to hide her sister's family, but asked us to keep an eye. I only had to watch once. But there was always somebody. Mostly older folks what could raise an alarm. Yer da supplied funds and bought Arabella Figg a house there so she could watch most of the time. But Figg was away that day, and Professer McGonagall, she was there, watching yer aunt, wand at the ready. Makin sure yer aunt and yer cousin was safe." Hagrid's eyes were almost blank as he looked back on those awful days. He put his pipe to his mouth, not smoking, but thinking.
"Dumbledore told me 'get young Harry to the muggle house, Hagrid.' So I went to the cottage, got yeh from Black, and took yeh to Dumbledore. He did some magics and we left yeh there."
"On the doorstep, right?" Though the bitterness was blatant in Harry's voice, Hagrid didn't completely catch it.
"Well, yeah." Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Dumbledore thought it was best. You okay, there, Harry?" Harry's face had paled to ghost white.
Here was a man who took him from his godfather and stuck him on a doorstep. Left him with those awful Dursleys.
"Did anyone protect us after that night?"
"Well, You Know Who was gone, wassnit? He might come back. Dumbledore says he might come back. But you was mostly safe. I think Dumbledore left Figgy there. And you got to be raised by yer family."
"Right. My family." Harry groused quietly. He knew Hagrid was loyal to Dumbledore, and nothing he could say would get through. It was like the acromantula: Hagrid had made up his tiny mind, and that was that.
"I'm not feeling so good, Hagrid. I think I'm going back up to the castle."
~~ scene change ~~
Robert Stenwick, of the Newcastle clan, walked through St. Mungo's with purpose. He was here to see his client, the not-so-notorious Sirius Black. He'd always been a man who wanted to poke at the belly of 'authority' that acted outside the law. With Black, he had access to the worst of the ministry's corruption, and he couldn't wait to demonstrate, publicly, just how outside the law some of them had acted. The trial of Pettigrew was a start. But Robbie thought maybe, just maybe this might be a way to overthrow the tyrants.
It had all started that summer, when Black had escaped and Potter had – or so rumor had it – taken up Black's innocence.
~~flashback~~
Astrid Stenwick was a healer. Her offices were just down from the Leaky, and she often gave time to the HC (though she kept it quiet, since her pureblood patients might take affront). She had heard of the escape of the notorious 'right hand of You Know Who" since it was on everyone's lips. (Riddle, she thought. That's what they called him at the HC and though she didn't know why, she'd picked it up. It was a lot easier and less silly than the triple moniker.) She also saw little Harry Potter once, that she knew of. Apparently WCS had him under massive glamour, so although it was known he was on the alley (the better to bait Black, she thought, outraged), it was not really easy for anyone to spot the kid.
Astrid's best friend, Andromeda Tonks, had come over one evening, ready to do some potion brewing while she caught up with Astrid, gossiping about their respective children's antics. Astrid, however, had more serious notions to tell Dromeda. She had followed the tale of her best friend's only good cousin (Andromeda's words, not Astrid's) since whispers had come through the alley. The Potter child insisted that Sirius could not have betrayed him or his parents. Dromeda had always said that, but had no proof, and had lost all credibility by marrying a muggleborn.
"I know my cousin. I'm blackballed from society, since I married Ted, but someone should have protested the decisions of the tribunal!" As Robbie had come into his parlour that afternoon, he'd heard Andromeda's quiet anger. He hoped the Black temper wasn't about to surface.
"Well, Drom, maybe I can get Robbie to look into it. He's due home any moment now. If the Potter kid is claiming that Sirius didn't betray James…"
"He wouldn't! I'd bet my mastery on it!"
"Knowing how hard it was for you to get that, given your family pulling their sponsorship, I know exactly what that means. But listen, Robbie has connections."
"I certainly do," Robbie interrupted. And thus, he began to quietly amass information and evidence. Someone was going to pay for this miscarriage of justice. It was the best fun Robbie would have for years.
~~back to present~~
The trial of Peter Pettigrew was short… and closed to the public. There were too many who would go for blood, it was felt. Whether that blood was Pettigrew's or Black's was up in the air. In order to make sure that all was above board, a few trustworthy reporters and monitors from the ICW were in attendance. The documentation was sealed, with release to individuals with proven need.
A summary was above the fold in the Prophet. Pettigrew was pushed through the veil after revealing that he had been a voluntary death eater and had willingly betrayed James Potter, his advocate and sponsor in society. Pettigrew's Order of Merlin was revoked, and the moneys reclaimed – with interest – from his parents were divided between Sirius Black and Harry Potter.
Sirius Black was given a full pardon and an offer (demand) of medical treatment for dementor exposure; no fiscal compensation mentioned. His cousin's Andromeda's friend, Robert Stenwick, of the pureblood family, was his solicitor. As he had already given himself over to St. Mungo's, there was speculation if the ministry would try to sabotage his care, just so they wouldn't be sued.
Robbie visited his infamous client on the ward and used a special privacy spell of his own making to keep their conversation confidential.
"Sirius. I'm Robbie. Astrid's husband."
Sirius nodded and shook the offered hand. "She and my cousin still thick as thieves?"
"Indeed," Robbie smiled, but the serious gleam never left his eye. "I'm here to help you navigate getting some well-deserved payback. People put you in prison without a real investigation, let alone a trial. There was no official questioning. Fudge was the prosecutor, Crouch the DMLE, and Bagnold the minister. They're all out there, enjoying the money they took to put you behind bars. I can prove it. We can ruin them."
Sirius looked at the solicitor who was burning with righteous anger.
"I only want one thing. To see Harry. That's all." Sirius had glimpsed Harry a few times around the alley that summer. The kid had even waved at Padfoot once. Sirius wanted to get to know that boy who looked like James but had his mother's spirit. He could see it.
He needed to see it.
Robbie sighed. "I'll get your godson in to see you. But you'll let me sue those bastards to Hades and back, yeah? They can't go unpunished, and you can't have your particular brand of… what was it Andromeda called it? 'Marauder justice.'"
Sirius grinned a bit, his old wicked charm showing. He would not deny that he was planning some well-earned payback. But to ruin those bastards publicly might just save someone else from being used like Sirius had been.
So it was, a week later, Harry was brought (over the protests of Headmaster Dumbledore but under the permission of and accompanied by Asa Steppenage from the WCS) to see his godfather. Sirius wasn't sure how to approach the conversation he needed to have with Harry. He knew that things were very bad at the Dursleys as WCS had informed him of the details. But from his own experience, he knew the boy wouldn't want to talk about it, especially if he was directly asked.
"Hi," Harry whisper greeted, and Sirius smiled.
"Heya, Harry. I'm Padfoot."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Padfoot…" his voice trailed off as he chased a memory, nebulous, but somehow…
"Your father and I were animagus. He turned into a great antlered stag – we called him Prongs. I turn into…"
"A black dog!" Harry burst out, then looked around. No one was looking at him. "Oh, that's right, privacy spell."
Sirius chuckled. "Yes, on both counts. A black dog. You saw me this summer, at least once that I know of."
Harry shook his head. "I don't remember… Wait. Were you digging through the rubbish bins?"
"Behind the Chinese restaurant. Yeah. Loads better than Azkaban fare, I tell ya."
Harry nodded his head in commiseration. He'd resorted to scouring the bins before.
"I had skipped out of the Alley that afternoon. All those dementor thingies and aurors – the muggle side was just better."
"I've always liked both sides, but I hear you with the dementors. I've had enough of those bastards for the rest of my life." Sirius saw that Harry looked a bit abashed about bringing up the dementors from which Sirius was supposed to be recovering. "So, tell me about Harry. Quiddich? Mates? Girlfriend or boyfriend? Your owl is amazing, for sure."
Hedwig had heard that Harry's godfather was in Mungo's and brought the note with the details of Harry's impending visit straight to the bed-ridden former prisoner. Then, she'd stared at Sirius until he stated he'd write a note to his godson for her to take back.
"She guilted you into writing that note, you said. But yeah, she'll bring us letters to each other and we won't have to worry about anyone mucking about with her. She's loyal and fierce. Hagrid gave her to me – my first birthday present, ever."
Sirius swallowed his ire at that statement and started asking questions more about Harry's experience in the magical world, which was all the boy seemed willing to talk about.
Harry was talking about the electives he was taking, on the advice of Healer Zhou. Harry thought maybe he'd be a healer, if he could learn how to do potions.
"Who is Healer Zhou?"
"Healer Zhou was who Dobby took me to." Harry took a deep breath, like he was going to jump in the ocean, and decided to let his godfather know the truth. "He saved my life, and he kept really good records. Ms. Hook and CPS kept it quiet, but they had the Dursleys - my uncle and aunt who had abused me - arrested. All sorts of charges like attempted murder, forced imprisonment, child abuse, tax fraud, a bunch of other stuff. The crown accepted a guilty plea to child abuse to avoid trial. They're both in prison for ten years. Even trade, I guess." Harry shrugged.
Sirius kept his face neutral. Of course, he had known of the abuse from the updates he'd received from WCS. And he felt utter rubbish that he'd not been there to guard and guide his godson. But someone was supposed to. "Why didn't you just tell Albus?" Sirius asked. He had his own problems with the old bastard, but he thought Albus would have stood by the last of the Potters: a notoriously light family.
Harry's jaw firmed. "I tried. He didn't listen to me. Adults almost never do."
"Hey." Sirius waited until Harry looked him in the eye before he continued, his voice gruff. "I'll always listen to you."
Harry almost wanted to trust Sirius. But it would be more than words to win Harry's trust now.
"Hagrid said you gave me to him. Gave me to him that night."
Sirius stopped. His memories had some holes, sure, but that wasn't a happy memory, so the dementors had left it be. "No. When I got there he was there." His voice wavered. "He had you. I asked for you and he said Dumbledore was going to take care of you. I couldn't get you."
"You were my godfather." The stubborn tone in Harry's voice was backed with hurt and fury. Sirius recognized it because he felt the same.
"You know Hagrid." Shrugging, Sirius let out a shaky breath. He was on the verge of tears both from anger and sorrow. His occlumency was coming back, but it was an arduous process, and this was his most challenging memory. "Dumbledore gave him an order. If I tried… he's huge. You could've been hurt worse. You were bleeding already." He looked up at the faint scar on Harry's forehead.
Harry was still, watching, assessing. With a grim face, he nodded.
It really was all on Dumbledore.
~~ scene ~~
When he got back to the castle, Harry was sick with fury. How, oh how, would he get over this? Every single person he'd ever trusted: Hagrid, McGonagall, Dumbledore… they'd conscripted him to that place.
They'd put him in hell.
Putting it out of his mind, Harry made his way to the library. He had a potions assignment due Monday, and he needed to find a reference for the plant he wanted to include. The only reason he remembered moondew as a stabilizer for wiggenwald potion was that conversation he'd had with Master Fezziwig. He'd talked about how moondew was used in both draught of living death and its remedy – wiggenwald potion – as a stabilizer. Over a month ago. Harry learned more from side conversations with Master Fezziwig than he ever learned from Snape.
Master Fezziwig. Dr. Dan. Ms. Amanda. Mr. Steppenage. He trusted them. Was that a mistake?
No. He took a deep breath. They'd fought for him. They'd saved him and freed him. And he couldn't imagine they'd ever do anything different. After all, he'd trusted the Hogwarts staff with very little proof. Looking back on it, they'd never earned that trust. The others had.
The library was quiet and had that library smell that calmed Harry right off. He went to the herbology section first, and found two books containing information he thought might be applicable. Then he grabbed a potions compendium.
Opening the first tome and skimming through the statements on the properties of moon flower, Harry took notes. He lost himself in the process, and was just about finished with the essay when Hermione joined him.
"Potions then?" she whispered, sitting down.
"Yeah. Just finished." He sanded his paper, absorbing the extra ink, then vanished the sand with a flick of his wand.
"Want me to read it?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "I think it's fine. Snape will never give me more than an A, so whatever. I learned what I needed. You have work?"
"Nope. Just looking for you." He nodded and packed his bag. They took the books to the return cart and nodded to Madam Pince on their way out.
It was a relief to be in the hall, able to freely converse. The utter silence of the library was a double-edged sword of comfort and torture.
"Where're the others, then?" Harry asked, not wanting to talk about his visit with Sirius. Hermione had noticed that, since his visit with Hagrid the last week, he'd been more tense and angrier than before – almost like before he and Ron had settled things. The visit with Sirius seemed to have made it worse, and Hermione was watching him with concern.
But she'd let him avoid it, for now.
"Ron's out playing footie with some of the guys. Neville is doing extra credit work in the greenhouses."
"I could do with playing footie. I think I'll run up and get changed." Not watching where he was going, Harry turned the corner and ran into another student. She was a small thing, with blonde hair and pale skin and wide grey eyes that seemed almost vacant.
"Sorry!" Harry said. "Wasn't watching where I was going."
"Oh, no bother. The leaden tzedek is all around."
Nonplussed, Harry just seemed to pause. "…right…"
Then, her eyes seemed to focus. "You're Ronald's friend, Harry."
"That's right. This is Hermione."
"My family is neighbors with the Weasleys. I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood."
Harry bowed with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Luna. If I may be so forward, why do you wear two left shoes?" He had a suspicion, but wanted her to confirm it.
"Nargles keep taking my right shoes, and earrings." She pointed to her bare right lobe. "Odd behavior for Nargles."
Harry supposed in whatever language Luna spoke, Nargles were the same as Piers and Dudley and the rest of the arseholes. And his temper rose again.
"Oh, in the muggle world we call them bullies." Harry said, the cheer in his voice obviously forced. He had an idea. "Dobby?"
"Master Harry, sir calls Dobby?" The elf popped to his master, looking at the other two witches with a smile.
"Hey Dobby, how are you today?" Harry asked, always trying to remain polite with his true friends.
"Dobby is being good especially since Master Harry has called him."
"Dobby, this is Luna. Some of her things have gone missing from her trunk. Can you track them down and put them back?"
"Dobby do!" Dobby sniffed at Luna, who giggled, then he popped out. Things started changing. Her right shoe became the matching shoe to her left and the extra shoe disappeared. Her right earring appeared in her ear. Her bag became noticeably heavier. Dobby popped back.
"Thank you, Dobby," Luna said and hugged the elf.
Dobby, like most males, was not sure what to do with the hug. The panic in the elf's eyes almost made Harry laugh. Dobby patted Luna's head and she broke the hug.
"Dobby come to Miss Luna and find her wander-things every day?"
"That would be great, Dobby." Harry answered for the girl, who was looking through her bag with wonder. "Do you think you could secure her trunk and bag? Until she can get to Master Twig?" He turned to Luna. "I found a place this summer that… nargle-proofs trunks and bags. It's wicked. You'll have to let it bite you, to get your blood and magic, but it'll keep nargles away from stuff you put away."
"But will it hurt the buzzfunkles? I like the scent they give my robes." Luna's placid – almost vapid – delivery of the question made Hermione shake her head.
"I don't think it'll have a problem with those. Just the things that have bad intentions," Harry gently encouraged.
Luna tipped her head, studying Harry and Dobby. Then she nodded. "Okay then. Thank you!" Dobby bowed and popped away.
"Harry, why didn't you let Professor Flitwick take care of that? He needs to know there's an issue to fix it!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Like he doesn't already know? Bullying is everywhere in this school. The faculty does nothing to fix it. Sometimes, they participate in it."
"That's not true!" Hermione protested.
"Remind me," he said on a breath, reaching for patience. "What was Neville's boggart? Never mind." He turned and strode away, patience gone.
"He's so angry, and I just don't know what to do for him." Hermione shook her head and sighed in sadness.
"I don't have any friends, but I thought one of the points of friends was being good listeners."
Turning to the younger girl, Hermione answered a bit shortly. "I always listen."
Luna shook her head slowly. "No. You're a fixer, not a listener."
It was as though the wool was pulled from her eyes. "He needs to talk," Hermione breathed. "I need to listen. Oh. Merlin. … Thanks!" She whirled and followed in the direction Harry had gone.
"You're welcome," Luna smiled to herself, continuing on her walk through the halls.
Hermione tracked Harry down in the owlery. He was petting Hedwig and looked up stonily at her entrance.
"I'm sorry. I'm not being a good friend."
Harry sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Hermione, you're the best. I'm just… I… I dunno."
"I never helped you. I should have seen… but now. I can help."
"You can, huh?" His chuckle was humorless. "How?"
"Tell me. I'll listen. I won't tell anyone anything you say. Pinky swear." Holding up a pinky, she smiled. He chuckled, looped his pinky through hers, then carried Hedwig outside on the parapet. He leaned against the balustrade and petted his owl and thought.
"I spent five weeks locked in the room at the Dursleys. As I ran out of food, and then ran out of life, I kind of became okay with it. I was okay with it. It was done and I was done and nothing mattered. And then, Dobby came. I wanted him to leave but he wouldn't go and he made me let him save me.
"When I first woke up, I was disgusted and exhausted and mad. Why had they brought me back? I was finally free! They tried to calm me down, but I was just angry and sad and wanted bugger all to do with anyone. Then I started listening.
"They were angry. Like, they were livid. But not at me. FOR me. That had never happened before, I didn't think. I'd been a beaten, starved, neglected kid, and I'd been the town scapegoat. No one gave one toss about me. I thought.
"But then Ms. Amanda – she's a CPS worker on the muggle side that deals with muggleborn and half-bloods who get abused by their muggle caretakers. Did you know that if a young magical is abused enough, their magic can explode? Like a bomb?"
Hermione just nodded, keeping her factoids about obscurials to herself. Her job was to listen. She was going to listen.
"Well, they investigated really, really fast. The Dursleys were arrested. The headmaster of my primary was arrested. At least three of my teachers, they had gone to him, telling him that it wasn't right, what was being done to me. But he was friends with Vernon. They went to Smeltings together, I think. The chief constable went there, too, I think, or maybe he was just friends with Vernon? I don't know. He and Vernon always used to hang out and he'd give me the stink eye. So, yeah. Some people had fought for me before. And powerful, evil adults stopped me being helped." He looked out over the grounds, over the mountains… his mind on the past.
"Then, Mr. Steppenage came. He works for the wizarding CPS. It's called WCS. But he knew my grandfather, my dad's dad. And he knew my dad. He told me stories, explained where my family home is, what my finances should be. He helped me."
He was quiet for a minute, petting Hedwig. Then he looked up at Hermione. "Do you know why I was with the Dursleys?" Hermione thought and shook her head.
"Dumbledore. Dumbledore put me there and made me go back there. I asked him Christmas hols first year if I could leave. I asked after I toasted Quirrell. I asked again when I was with Pomphrey after the basilisk. He always put me off with, 'you must stay with your family.' He's such a tosser." Harry looked over the grounds, but didn't really see anything. He certainly didn't notice Hermione's growing unease and anger. "He was supposed to keep me safe. That's what the will said. He was supposed to keep me safe. The wanker's almost got me killed twice at this stupid school and did get me killed at my relative's house. I hate him."
Hermione's eyes were filled with tears. She heard the truth in what he said and the absolute fury in his voice. The headmaster had really screwed up here.
"But you know, it's not just him. Snape, he's a real twat to everyone. Everyone. And he never gets corrected. I bet that Luna isn't the only one to get bullied in Ravenclaw. And I'll never forget how Hufflepuff treated me last year, and Sprout just let them. This whole school is full of arsehole adults. Now I know there's good ones out there, so why aren't there any here? In Surrey, it was because of Vernon. He was the person who made it so good adults couldn't help me. Here? It's Dumbledore. He runs everything. Even the government. People worship him. I hate him," he repeated.
Hermione rubbed Harry's arm. She wanted to argue, wanted to question, but knew her job was to listen and not to judge. Hedwig looked at her, somehow judging; somehow approving. The two children stood under the stone-grey sky, on the rocky parapet, looking over the highlands but seeing nothing, each lost in thought.
"Anyway," Harry finished, "that's why I've been such a prick these last weeks. It's hard for me to be here, especially after this summer with its crazy ups and downs."
"I imagine it is." Shaking her head, Hermione felt her own thoughts and memories realign. "I'm sorry, Harry. Sorry I never saw."
He chuckled, quietly. "I tried not to let anyone see. I learned tailoring charms early on to fix the rags the Dursleys gave me. I tried not to complain. Except about Snape."
She snorted, appreciating his turn to levity. "I've heard you complain about Professor Snape once or twice, I think."
He laughed and looked at her. "Thanks. For listening."
"That's what best friends do." She whispered. Then the silence was broken by someone going into the owlery. "let's go get lunch."
~~ scene ~~