Harry potter and the Time of Retirement
Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 18
"Time to go" murmured Harry, walking through the barrier between muggle and magical sections of King's Cross. Christmas break was over and Harry, like all the other students, was once again ready to go back to school.
The latest days of his holiday had been surprisingly pleasant and hassle-free: he kept spending most of his time by himself, or occasionally with his cousin Dudley. His relatives remained as irritating as ever but he was getting better at ignoring them when they were hostile and a shrug of his shoulders, or an ironic "You would never say that in public", seemed to work pretty well with his status-wary aunt and uncle.
When he asked for a ride he had been bluntly replied by his uncle that he had better thing to do than carry him around, but once Harry did not insist and walked away - already wondering if he should ask Shunpike of the Knight Bus for a subscription - he had been followed by a rough "Be ready early in the morning". Half-tempted to use Legimancy on his uncle just to learn what he was truly thinking Harry spent his last night in his room, said politely goodbye to a couldn't-care-less aunt and a surprisingly friendly, for his standards, cousin and left with his uncle for the station.
The meeting with his housemates went as well as it could be hoped for: friendly, full of gossips and bragging about their holidays and presents. First year hufflepuff boys and girls placed themselves in two consequential compartments traveling often between them to talk or, after the first couple hours, to just find something to pass the time with. The highlight of their tales had been a new quarrel between Justin and Zacharias, who debated on the 'proper' way for a young wizard to spend a break from school, an argument that in the end boiled down on which toys and foods were more impressive, muggle or magical's. Still, even for a group of kids there was a limit past which talking about toys or feasts was not tolerable anymore and eventually a quiet silence fell on their portion of the train. Not even the passage of the trolley lady could shake them, as they all had their fill of sweets in the latest days.
Some of them, pushed by boredom, went out in search of friends from other houses and Harry followed suit. While walking in the main train hallway he managed to see the faces of almost all the first years he knew that did not remain at Hogwarts for the break including a bored-looking Draco together with his two unofficial bodyguards and, inside a compartment filled by all of Gryffindor's first year girls, an Hermione too busy reading some big book to notice Harry looking at her from outside the door.
His tour of the train concluded Harry resigned himself to wait in his seat for the now close arrival at Hogsmeade, and eventually Hogwarts. Even first year lessons, in their pathetic simplicity, had again after the school break gained a certain appeal over him and he was looking forward with a certain interest at restarting them from the following day. Plus, there were other perks in staying at the castle, from excellent food to friendly companionship – and he had his own businesses to take care of, potions to brew and a solid plan to draw. His chest now filled with ingredients meant he had no more excuses to delay what he knew was an unavoidable meeting with Quirrell.
'Meh, I still have time' thought Harry, sitting down in his seat and trying to fall asleep.
No matter his self-made promises to be immediately more active, the first weeks back at Hogwarts were quite uneventful for Harry who kept postponing any kind of action to the following day, each day. His routine perfected, he fell instantly back into sharing his time between hidden advanced spellcasting in the morning, random walks or reading at the library in the evening, and playing or chatting with his housemates at the meals or after dinner in the common room. The cold weather could not stop the boys from playing quidditch for long and soon, some random games with them would be added to his list of activities. A difference he noticed was in Hermione, that now seemed quite intent in ignoring him both in classes or everywhere else; knowing her, he could only assume that her parents were the reason for this change. Which, for Harry, was... a bit sad, actually, even if convenient.
'Not much I can do about it' was his opinion on the matter.
"Hey Harry, what's that face? The game is about to start" said Justin, on his right.
They were all sitting on the bleachers of the quidditch pitch, waiting, mostly dressed in yellow and brown and surrounded by other Hufflepuffs of all years; around them, an happy chaos was filling the air.
"I know, I know… and this is an important game, no need to remind me" said Harry.
"More than important, Potter. If we win we could have a chance to catch up with Slytherin in the Cup race" said Zacharias, 2 seats on the left. Even him, even Wayne seemed excited by what was happening.
"I heard that Gryffindor's captain…. Wood something, right? Was going crazy with training his team this year" said Ernie.
"It's their loss to Slytherin, they just hate each other" said Justin.
"Gryffindors are not bad, but not special either. I am almost surprised they are not last in the tournament" said Wayne.
"That's unfair" said Harry, aware he was partial towards his old team "The chasers are coordinated enough, and the Weasley twins are very good beaters".
"No Harry, they are very good at hitting those they don't like instead of playing teamwork. And the chasers…. Yeah, as Wayne said, good but not special" said Ernie.
"Which is good for us! We are going to kick their ass today. They do need to be taken down a peg or two" said Justin.
"Can't argue with that" added Zacharias.
"Whatever. Look, the players are coming out" said Harry.
Accompanied by a mighty roar of the students, and the live-in commentary of Lee Jordan, the teams set themselves up in the air and soon started playing. The students around him were going crazy but Harry, torn between his old loyalty to Gryffindor and his newer, even if milder, one to Hufflepuff only wanted to enjoy the game. The level of playing was not exactly stellar, but for a school match it was not that bad.
'Who is that guy anyway?' thought Harry, looking at Gryffindor's seeker which, while good at flying, was obviously not born for that role – from his body size to the way he moved around. Harry could vaguely remember him as a friend of Oliver Wood, but could not recall the name at all.
Eventually, the match ended with Hufflepuff winning by a solid 130 points lead: a distance that did not show how equal the game had been. On his right Justin, that had spent more than an evening complaining on how unfair was giving a 150 points award to a single player, had obviously forgot all about his argument as he was cheering wildly together with their whole section of the stadium, while a disappointed murmur could be heard coming from Gryffindor's section.
"YES! We do have a shot at the Cup, this year!" said enthusiastically Ernie.
"Diggory was great, have you seen how he avoided that chaser while diving for the snitch?" said Wayne.
"And he managed to surpass Gryffindor's seeker, even though he started closer" said Zacharias, with a hint of meanness in his tone.
"Because that guy sucked pretty hard" added Justin smiling.
"No, he was ok. But ok flying is not enough, for a seeker" said Harry, standing up. The game was over, and so was his interest in the pitch.
"Don't stay by yourself now, Harry, we are all going to celebrate in the common room!" said Ernie, turning towards him.
"I know, I'll be coming too. There is just a book I wanted to borrow today, and the library is about to close" said Harry.
"See you later, then" said Wayne, while Harry started walking away. The chorus of cheers started fading away once he got out of the pitch, becoming weaker and weaker until it was only noise in the distance when Harry entered inside Hogwarts. The castle seemed almost empty with only random older years', probably uninterested in the game, walking by in the distance.
Borrowing the book itself was a short affair: Madame Pince, who unsurprisingly had not gone to the match, checked him out and Harry was soon wandering in the castle again.
'Too soon for them all to be back' thought Harry, that found unappealing to go back to a desert common room. Randomly, he decided to go upstairs and check on Edwige. The owlery, unfortunately, was as dirty as usual.
'Eh, waste of ink' thought Harry at the memory of the letter he sent about it to McGonagall.
Shaking his head at how shaggy Hogwarts looked right there he called down Hedwig and pet her for a while, making sure she was at least clean and well-fed, which she was. While he had not been taking care of her as well he could the owl never stopped being affectionate, which made Harry feel a little guilty. "Poor Hedwig" he said out loud, sadly, thinking how she deserved to have the attentive owner he had been in his youth.
'At least she should live longer this time around' he thought, letting her go back to her spot and rushing out of the huge, smelly room.
Slowly going down, Harry approached the stairs but after a couple steps he slowed down, suddenly alerted.
'The paintings….' he thought, noticing how the paintings seemed all frozen instead of showing their usual lively behavior. That was definitely not normal, and if there was one thing being an auror taught him is that very, very rarely unusual situation were due to good intentions. In any case…
"Protego" he whispered, after taking his wand out of the robe and hiding as best as he could behind his book. He could not risk casting detection spells around, but he could at least find a nice corner in the wall and stay there until most of the students came back from the quidditch pitch. Only a couple more steps to reach the next floor.
Unfortunately, right when he stepped off the stairs, from his side some kind of red light arrived and repelled him towards the banister; his shield spell prevented him from losing conscience, but not from being thrown in the middle of the stairwell falling fast towards the bottom.
Desperately, Harry cast Spongify on the floor but the impact was still devastating and he could clearly hear a couple of ominous cracks.
"What the hell…" he cursed in a pained tone. Why didn't his spell softened the ground? There was no time to lose pondering about it though, he was not safe there. Wobbling, and losing blood, he stood up and tried to walk away but he could manage no more than a dozen steps before everything went black.
When Harry awoke, he needed some time to recollect what happened. Around him was pitch dark, and he was devoid of both his wand and his glasses. And yet, laying down in a warm, comfortable bed was enough of a hint of where he ended up; his no longer hurting arm also helped.
'The infirmary' he thought, satisfied that at least for now he was safe. The satisfaction did not last long, though: someone had just attempted at his life, and it was not exactly a mystery who did it.
'Those two damn psychopaths' thought Harry, angry. He did not forget what happened, ironically enough, during the very same quidditch match in his original first year but he had always considered it as either an indirect insult to Dumbledore made by Riddle, or maybe a clumsy attempt by Quirrell to please his master. How else to explain such a pathetically incompetent attack, done in front of the whole school no less? There had been no chances of success at the time. But this time…
'Had I been a real first year, I would be dead now. No doubts about that' admitted Harry to himself. This one was not a random attack, made in the spur of the moment, but a strike planned by someone who used his brain before casting his spells. At the very minimum, they must have tracked his habits and prepared the 'ground' by freezing the pictures. Be it Riddle, or a Quirrell at his best, he had just been punished for his arrogance and carelessness. At least he was still alive.
'Why am I even hurt, anyway?' wondered Harry, recalling his Spongify and how it was supposed to spare him the brunt of the crash. Had Quirrell-mort gone so far as to predict how he could react, and cover that angle too by cursing the bottom of the stairwell? That would be terrifying, both for how smart his enemies appeared now and for how they could have guessed his real abilities.
'No, now I am falling in the other extreme' thought Harry with disdain 'Magically talented or not, those two are still retards'.
There probably was a simpler explanation – maybe it was just hard to magically change the floor stones of Hogwarts, a place traditionally drenched in magic, without serious focus - and he had been particularly frantic at the moment. Which may actually be convenient, thought relieved Harry, as him crashing down that evening was a safe, although embarrassing, way to downplay his real skills in case they were suspecting them. He could heal the injuries, included the one to his pride – the rest was secondary.
'I missed the victory party too' he added bitterly after a second. That would have been fun, a nice way to break the routine. But in truth, wasn't that the problem, he concluded? The routine. Taking things way too calmly. It was time to be a bit more proactive, and not just to make himself empty promises about it.
'First step, Dumbledore tomorrow' thought Harry. He was bound to be asked what happened, so it would be better to plan how to answer. Claim to have just slipped? If Dumbledore knew of the frozen paintings he could think that someone messed with Harry's memory and check, so that was out. Tell the truth, that someone attacked him but he saw not who? Maybe – but he could receive some restrictions on his movements if he said so bluntly that someone tried to kill him.
'No, better count on the headmaster's natural passivenesses' thought Harry. He would simply claim that he had no idea what happened, and that was it. At worse, claiming something pushed him from the back, he had no idea who and he could be have just imagined it anyway might work.
'Simple, believable, open to interpretations' concluded Harry sleepily, turning inside the bed and trying to relax.
The morning after, Harry was woken up by madam Poppy opening the windows, while keeping a cup of tea in her hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Do you feel well, this morning?" she said.
"I do, thank you. Your name is….?" asked Harry.
"Poppy Pomfrey, Mister Potter. I am the school nurse and, obviously, this is the infirmary. You have been brought here because you fell off the stairs yesterday, do you remember that?"
"Vaguely, but yes. Am I free to go already?"
"Not so fast." said madam Pomfrey, taking out her wand and using it to cast some spells. "I have to check your health, and then I'll decide". Meanwhile, Harry put on his glasses and moved the blankets out of the way.
"Yes, you are all right. Mr. Potter, you can go if you want. I'll let you know also that the headmaster wanted to talk to you about your incident. You should go and meet him in his office at once."
"I would not want to disturb him so early for such a thing, Mrs. Pomfrey. I'll visit him this evening" said Harry, picking his robe from yesterday and moving behind a screen to change.
"A student must not let the headmaster wait, Mr. Potter" said madam Pomfrey a bit sternly.
"I will not, I said I don't want to disturb. Did he say I should go the second I am awake?" asked Harry.
"….no, he didn't".
"There you are, then. I'll be going, have a nice day madam" said Harry, moving out of the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey greeted him from his back, but from her tone it was obvious he had not made the best of impression. Harry didn't really care at the moment, though.
'Always troubles, straight from the morning' he thought irritated.
'Nevermind. Breakfast first, then I'll see' he decided, while walking towards the great hall. At the table he was welcomed by all his classmates, who immediately asked what happened. A short "I fell down, I broke something" was all it needed to close the conversation, although a couple of the boys joked about his clumsiness while the girls glared at them.
The main topic soon turned towards the big party of the previous day, included a couple of the older years that drunk so much they fell asleep on the couches and the whole quidditch team singing some weird song with the rest of the house providing the chorus.
"You really missed out, Harry" said in a friendly tone Susan, in front of him at the table.
"I know, Susan. I'll make sure it won't happen again" said Harry, narrowing his eyes.
Author's notes: well, I started writing in my lunch break. This means I have roughly 20min a day to dedicate this story, which is not much although writing every day help me keep the pace of the story.
As for the story itself, while I obviously chose this moment because, in the book, this is where Harry gets attacked during the quidditch match I also felt like 'karma' was bound to punish him for his carelessness. Having 10/10 hindsight is great and all, but Harry is way too relaxed for someone living nearby two criminals – and this was the best warning you can give to the main character, that obviously cannot die (at least not in such a lame way). It's time for him to start cutting loose ends, and for me to wrap the year up.
Finally, Spongify… it is not 100% official canon, as it was used mostly in the videogames and in one movie. I would hesitate to use a spell from games, but a movie is canon enough, imho. Plus I needed it, and that spell Dumbledore used to save Harry when he is falling arrest the momentum of an object, and I am not sure one could cast it on himself.