Mind Over Magic
Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
Guest: As much as I appreciate your liking of that story, I update as inspiration strikes and, right now, I'm still focused on my other edited redos, but keep watching the space for any potential updates in future;
WhiteElfElder: You might be right, but, then again, we might also see a cool, icy Harrison face those demons, choosing to rely on his ability to close off his heart to face the monsters still hiding in the shadows;
Stacygrrl2002: Odd, yes, but also weirdly appropriate; like saying that some good can come out of the bad; a point that I intend to prove with the events of this up-and-coming chapter;
Jostanos: Weirdly, I think of something Jim Carey once said in a film he didn't enjoy – 'guys, remember, have fun, otherwise what's the point?' (Kick-Ass 2, in case you're wondering)
Luiz4200: Funny
"Doctor Granger, how long have you lived in this house?"
"This house? Well…actually, it's soon going to be two years," replied Daniel, gulping hard as he looked to the house, "It was before we learned about Hermione's gifts, actually; we'd decided to relocate out of the big city in Liverpool and we found this quiet corner of normality. Actually, now I think about it, we got a good deal on the house because it was a property that used to belong to some high-ranked official arrested for tax evasion."
"The ones who owned this house before you; they were called the Millers."
"That…that's right," said Emma, a note of unease in her voice that matched the look on her daughter's face, "How…how did you know?"
As Hermione looked at her friend, she saw his dark look and the tension in his posture.
"Harrison…did you…is this…"
"The place where normal was stripped from me, yes," said Harrison, his voice much colder than Hermione remembered he'd ever been, while he also seemed to be struggling to maintain his promised composure as he looked to Hermione before he added in a cold, unwavering tone, "I guess I should have asked you where you lived before we got here."
Chapter 13: Harrison's Christmas Carol
To Hermione's surprise and Neville's relief, Harrison seemed to keep hold of his pretend-happiness all throughout the decorating process, though if there was one thing that distracted Neville, it was how different and yet similar Muggle decorations were to magical ones.
Suffice to say, the idea of funny musical decorations, beautiful electronically-operated lights and the presence of so much delight and warmth in the minds and hearts of their hosts definitely made Neville think twice about saying Muggle holidays were less-exciting or necessary than magical ones.
When Daniel managed to hoist Hermione up to stick what they called the Christmas Star on top of the tall, green tree, it only completed the image further, though if there was one other thing that made the occasion, it was the air of pride in Harrison's voice when he remarked, "It's perfect."
And yet, when Neville looked to his friend, he couldn't help but notice an air of darkness clouding even the pretend delight in Harrison's look.
What he said to Hermione about this home being the place where being normal was stolen from him lingered at the back of Neville's mind, so much so that, like Hermione, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to their friend in this warm, friendly place that might have contributed to his cold, dark, sleeping-dragon attitude.
But, like Hermione, Neville also knew he couldn't pry, no matter how much it hurt either one of them to look at Harrison and know that, behind the Killing-Curse-esque green eyes, the darkest of dark storm clouds were gathering.
And how, all the while, no matter how much he smiled or put on airs and graces, Neville and Hermione were reminded of one thing:
Every smile, every positive remark and every bit of childish glee…
It was all pretend…
MoM
'Why here? Why, of all the houses in all the streets in all the towns of the UK did Hermione have to live here?'
That was the thought that ran through Harrison's mind as he stalked his way up to the guest room of the Grangers' home, while trying his hardest to maintain the air of a welcome guest and a happy-go-lucky young boy enjoying the holidays. But no matter how hard he tried, he was reminded of the pain, the humiliating revelations and the air of family that had been stolen from him within these four walls.
The basement room that used to be his cage where Mr Miller had strong-armed him into a chair and caged him like an animal, demanding he stay focused on his studies instead of being a kid, had been turned into Daniel's man-cave and rumpus room, complete with an assortment of games, even a pool table and dartboard.
But even the air of fun it now held hadn't helped Harrison any as, when he'd been allowed to look in the room, the only thing he'd felt was the urge to leave growing stronger than ever.
He could still feel the metal friction from the handcuffs on the desk and the persistent ache in his belly during all the times when he'd been allowed food and drink in return for a reasonable amount of studying being done – and, even then, he hadn't been able to keep it down, which meant he could also smell the sickness and diarrhoea from the small bin and toilet.
He could still smell the diffusers and smelling salts used to keep him awake; he could still taste the disgusting medicines the Millers had force-fed him to keep him awake. Most of all, when he walked into the now-changed room of a thousand hours of torture and inhuman confinement, Harrison experienced a very brief moment of hallucination via flashback when he saw the younger him pleading to be let out and Mr Miller dragging him back to the same desk that had since been repainted and turned into a small workbench in the corner of the room, but it was there nonetheless.
As for the rest of the house, it was filled with as many ghosts as that basement.
As he walked up the stairs, Harrison could still hear the overcompensating efforts of the Millers to reach social status as they had soirees with the right sort of people and paraded him around like a horse in the dressage, crowing about their prodigy of a child and all the hopes and expectations they had for him much later in life.
He could also see the greedy eyes of the Millers in every picture frame, even though said pictures were pictures of the Grangers, he could still feel their leering glare on him as they sized him up like he was a Christmas goose waiting to be stuffed, plucked and roasted before being fed to the baying hounds and false-laughing hyenas whom the Millers entertained with their soirees.
MoM
'Why here?' Harrison kept asking himself, part of him aware of a sudden feeling of vertigo, nausea and disorientation that seemed to cloud even his sight, 'Why her? Why did she have to live here? Why…why…why?'
Suddenly, Harrison's eyes widened as he felt his foot miss the top step while a wave of nausea and dizziness overcame him.
The next thing he knew, he was going down, but not before twelve sharp, hard bumps walloped him on the back of his head.
As darkness claimed him as a result of the fall, the last thing he was aware of was Hermione screaming his name…
MoM
If there was one sound that even the busy lives of the Granger elders would never ignore, it was the sound of their only daughter screaming, which spurred them into action as they ran out to discover the source and reason for such a terrified cry.
"What happened?"
Spurred on by the sudden noise, Daniel ran from where he'd been relaxing in front of the television while Emma tore out of the kitchen, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief as she found her daughter cradling the head of her friend, Harrison Potter, in her lap, tears of fear, agony and no small amount of confusion rolling down her face.
"He…he must have slipped on the stairs…" sobbed Hermione, earning shushing gestures from Neville, "But…but he's never fallen; not even on the stairs at school and…and they do…do weird things."
"Magical things," said Daniel, kneeling next to Harrison where, extending his hand, the Granger patriarch searched for a pulse, his CPR training – a necessity at work owing to the risk of accidents in the surgery and/or during procedures – coming in handy, as he showed when he heaved a sigh of relief before he added, "He's alive, sweetheart, don't worry: just unconscious. Any signs of wounds or injuries."
"He…he's got a…a few bumps here," said Hermione, earning a curious look from Neville as she indicated the back of Harrison's head, "But…but how could he fall so badly? What…what was he doing? How could…why did he…"
Looking up the stairs, Neville frowned, "He must have missed a step somewhere; but you're right, Hermione; he's not usually so absent-minded. It's Harrison; I don't think he's ever been absent-minded about anything, not even before we met him; a little dense about some things, maybe…a bit sociopathic at times, unless he's around us or Professor Flitwick, anyway, but…but he's never had something like this."
"Let's get him on the sofa," suggested Daniel, helping Hermione lift Harrison's unconscious form into his arms before, checking him over with a keen eye, he coughed once as he added, "He doesn't feel like he's suffered any more injuries, but we can check him over when…"
"AHHHHH!"
Suddenly, Neville's eyes widened while the blood drained from Hermione's face as they saw Harrison snap back to wakefulness, but when he did so, he flailed and screamed hysterically, squirming and wriggling like a fish on a hook.
"No, don't touch me, let me go; leave me alone. Don't touch me…get away…put me down…stop…stop…"
"Dad, put him down!" insisted Hermione, watching as her Father did as she asked, although he didn't seem to have much choice since Harrison was not just flailing like a drowning person. Every now and then, his hands caught Daniel in the face, but when the man let the boy down, Harrison stumbled and staggered, heading for the room at the back of the house with a hasty, somewhat-drunken stumble as he tried to escape to freedom.
"Harrison?" asked Neville, but in response, Harrison turned and held his hands up, keeping them at arms' length while he continued stumbling towards the back door.
"St…stay away from me…just…just keep back!" exclaimed Harrison, earning alarmed looks from the Granger elders while Hermione, recognising Harrison's state for what it was, put hands on both her parents, shaking her head as they looked from the hysterical young man to their little girl.
"Let him have his space," Hermione advised them, watching along with them and Neville as Harrison started pacing, fumbling around as though he was blind while his breathing was short, sharp and filled with fear and disbelief. "Harrison doesn't like people touching him…probably thanks to whatever happened when he lived here…so, waking up in your arms must have put him through a panic attack, Daddy."
"The poor boy," gasped Emma, looking to the young man who was feeling around as though he was still trying to find his sight.
When he found the door handle, Harrison twisted it and pushed so hard, he actually fell out onto the snow-covered tiles in the back garden, but he managed to recompose himself as he slipped and stumbled over the ice and snow as he escaped into the back garden.
As she watched him make frenzied, terrified movements, Emma looked back to Hermione, "What…why would he react so violently, Hermione? Surely he's been touched and held before now…or is this another of those things we don't want to know about?"
"I should say so," said Neville, but before anyone could say anything, they all ran to the back door when a loud thud sounded from the back garden.
To Hermione's shock and Neville's disbelief, Harrison had fallen again, but he was still wriggling and staggering, on his hands and knees, through the white wonderland out the back.
Hoping the sound of his voice might shock his friend back to reality, Neville cried out, "Harrison: it's all right. Calm down, take some deep breaths. The Grangers aren't going to hurt you; Doctor…I mean, Daniel was just trying to help you somewhere safe because you'd knocked yourself out by falling down the stairs. But it's okay: you're perfectly safe here…"
"No!" gasped Harrison, reaching a bench reserved for days in the sun in the back garden, "You…you're all the same, all of you; you pretend to be kind and welcoming, but you lie! You never believe anything I say because you prefer to think I'm just a kid and I know nothing, when all the while, I'm smarter than all of you! I know what's real and what's not. and I know now I was right all along; I can never trust anyone but myself!"
"What's happened to him?" asked Daniel, a note of disbelief in his words as he watched Harrison struggle to his feet, but he still pressed his hands to the bench, his legs trembling while his eyes were looking anywhere but at them.
"It…it's like his fall has…has caused him to regress to the boy he was when I first met him," argued Hermione, her voice edged by a note of fear and sorrow, "Back when he was as cold as the ice and snow around us…can a fall do that, Daddy?"
"Of course it can't," answered Harrison suddenly, letting out an almost-crazed laugh as he straightened up before he turned, "A simple knock to the head can't cause an instant neural reconfiguration just like that, Hermione, even when it's made to look like a nasty accident by a silly little boy who doesn't seem to appreciate what Mumsy and Daddikins are giving him."
She didn't say it aloud, but Hermione sensed that her friend was quoting someone else directly there, judging by how Harrison's hands fumbled for his arms, as though he was either trying to warm himself or soothe some unseen wound.
In the meantime, Harrison snorted audibly as he explained, "But neither can it cause such a short lapse of unconsciousness either, but I guess I'm the exception: not for the first time, eh? And no injuries from a fall that should have surely broken part of my shoulder bone if not my radius, ulna or my humerus, but nope: once again, a miraculous recovery! Brilliant…and who says I regressed into anything?"
"Now he's just ranting," remarked Neville, though he was just as worried as the others.
"Of course I'm ranting, what's the matter, Longbottom? Have you never been able to enjoy a good rant before?" asked Harrison, again letting out a laugh as he clicked his tongue before he sighed audibly, seeing them look at him with dumbfounded, pitying and lost looks.
"Oh, how I envy you lot; funny little Muggle and human brains. How do you get around with those things?"
"And now he's insulting us."
"Oh no, not at all, my scholarly schoolyard chum," argued Harrison, lifting his hands to his head where he scratched feverishly at his wild dark hair while he laughed at their dumbfounded expressions, "On the contrary, my benevolent hosts, I envy you, I told you; your minds. They're all so placid, straightforward and barely used, yeah? Well, mine's like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket, t-tearing itself to pieces, trapped on the launch pad…hiding in the dark and using the cold and the shadows of winter to keep themselves in check and why?"
Hermione and Neville visibly jumped when Harrison roared out the last part before he looked again to his hosts and friends, "Why? I'll tell you why, shall I? It's simples: because I have to pretend to be normal, isn't that what we agreed when I came here? Well I'm sorry, boys and girls, but in case it escaped your notice, all of you, I'm not normal and do you know why?"
Not one of the others dared to interrupt.
Instead, Harrison pointed to the house behind them, "Because of this place! I can't understand what being normal is, and all because, for a while, I chose to believe I could have a family and be a normal kid, even if I was a loved soul who was admired thanks to my love of reading and growing more experienced in all ways, not to mention my interests in knowing the ways of the world, although they were Muggle ways. I had no idea about the magical world, but I still believed I could understand one and forsake the other. And then what happened?"
Letting out a laugh of amused mockery, Harrison threw his arms up as he continued in his frenzied tone, "The Millers! That's what happened: Mr and Mrs oh-we'd-love-to-have-a-lovely-little-boy-for-our-own!"
A dark look flashed across Harrison's face as he growled, "But that wasn't what they wanted at all; instead, they were just two magpies who only wanted me because I was special! And when they had me, what did they do? Show me off like I was a trophy brought back to the homestead from a hunt…or they were content to make me stand up tall and mind my P's and Q's and put on a good show like I was a dog at Crufts. And what about when I wasn't doing that, I hear you ask? Well, then they were shoving books down my gullet, demanding I learn and keep learning and studying until I dropped from exhaustion! And, when I tried to run away, what did my former custodians do? Sent me back with a tut-tut, a smacked bottom and a waggling finger about lying like a naughty boy while Mr Miller put on a show worthy of the Best Actor Oscars winning for ten years about how much he missed me and how he couldn't understand why I'd make up such lies!"
With each word Harrison spewed out, Hermione was turning whiter and whiter while Emma's hands suddenly found her mouth.
As for Daniel, his fists were getting tighter and tighter while Neville looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here right now.
Harrison, on the other hand, seemed lost to his ranting as he rubbed at his wrists, "And how did the loving Miller family ensure that, I bet you're dying to know? Well I'll tell you; they put locks on the door of the same room you call a man-cave, Doctor Granger; they covered up the windows except for when I earned it and, when I grew rebellious, they handcuffed me to my desk! Chained me up like a dog in a kennel and demanded I study and do them proud otherwise I'd never see daylight again!"
Suddenly, it was Neville who slipped on the frozen path, but not before Hermione steadied him even though she was shaking with disbelief, horror and fury as Harrison poured his soul out as he insisted, "They didn't want a son: they wanted a trophy to leech off of for the rest of their lives!"
Here, he smiled wolfishly, licking his lips like a snake flicking its tongue as he chuckled darkly, "Well, unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong trophy to try and claim for their own: my life is mine and I wasn't about to let them get away with abusing me, stealing my childhood from me as easily as those damn Dursleys did and taking the last hope I had for love and family ever again!"
Looking to Doctor Granger, who was redder than a ripe tomato, Harrison smiled like a shark smelling blood in the water, "Who do you think was responsible for their crimes being made public, Doctor Granger? Because it sure as hell wasn't the IRA or the Inland Revenue!"
Silence followed Harrison's tirade, though as he looked at the group before him, his emerald-green eyes darkened as he seemed to struggle with the next emotions he showed, which, to Neville's surprise, were relief, finality and an air of being in a complete state of calm. He even took a deep and very long breath of relief before, looking to each one of them, he seemed to revert to the real Harrison once again as he addressed the group of shocked, horrified and otherwise-emotionless listeners in a much-softer voice.
"The information you think you might have just heard; you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing any part of that revelation on this property, in this context, I guarantee you, on behalf of my family, comprised of me myself and I and what little trust, respect and…friendship I have for you that materials will be found on your computer resulting in your immediate incarceration."
Even Daniel looked beyond horrified while Harrison's eyes darkened as he added, "Don't reply, just look frightened and scuttle…" (1)
With that, he walked back to the house, cool and calm as you like before, looking to each member of the group, all of whom didn't know what to make of any part of what they had just heard, he offered a very thin, but cold smile as he scoffed;
"And cheer up, everybody…after all, it's Christmas!"
MoM
While Harrison returned to the house, Hermione tried and failed to get a word out with regards to anything she'd just heard.
At the same time, she could see tears falling down her Mother's face while her Father was still and unwavering, so much so, he seemed to mirror a coiled viper waiting to strike, while his fists were clenched so tightly that Hermione noticed a few drops of blood dripping onto the snow. Next to her, Neville had his eyes fixed on the house, though before he could say anything, or Hermione, the brunette gasped when her Father addressed her.
"Hermione…"
Startled by how un-fatherly he sounded, Hermione couldn't have turned her attention away from him even if she wanted to, even as the older Granger addressed her and her friend, "Neville…promise me something."
"What?" asked Neville.
"Anything," chorused Hermione, speaking at the same time as her friend as she looked at her Father.
In response, Daniel turned to them, "Promise me, you will never abandon that boy, no matter what happens, no matter what he may say or do to try and convince you to do otherwise, or what your own thoughts may be on whatever obstacles try and threaten the friendship you have. I want you both to swear you will never abandon him."
"I promise," chorused the two magic users, but when Hermione did, she swallowed, "Why…why did he open up like that, Daddy? We've been trying for weeks to get him to open up and then…was it the fall? The wound to the back of his head? The memories…"
"No," said Daniel, shaking his head slowly while he looked to the house, "It was something he'd already gone through back when those…those animals decided to make him grow up too quickly, too soon and too abusively!"
Before Hermione could ask what he meant, however, her heart turned as cold as the world around them when her Mother spoke, but when she did so, she was as cold and coiled-snake-like as Daniel in her voice, despite the tears of pain that rolled down her face;
"Crucible."
While Neville looked confused by the remark, Hermione's eyes widened as she seemed to get the point, which was only helped by Daniel nodding slowly, his eyes never leaving the spot where Harrison had vanished before, to her shock, he looked at Hermione with a stern, almost un-fatherly air about him as he addressed her once again;
"Never forget your promise, Hermione Jean Granger…because if I ever find out you have done, I will never forgive you…and neither will he."
MoM
When the Grangers, Neville and Harrison awoke on a surprisingly-rare White Christmas Morning, the only one who seemed to be in a celebratory mood was Hermione as she began helping her Mother prepare everything needed to make Christmas Dinner. At the same time, Daniel took a bit longer than he usually did in the shower while, in their shared room, Neville and Harrison seemed to be enjoying the silence of the room.
For Harrison, this involved him sitting in absolute silence on his bed, his legs folded in a perfect lotus position, his hands linked together and his eyes closed. Neville, meanwhile, acknowledging Harrison's meditative stance for what it was, couldn't help but think about the events leading up to that very morning, especially in the case of what Hermione had said to him after Harrison's moment of revelation in the back garden.
Even as he looked at his friend, Neville felt an icy lump form in his throat as he remembered Hermione's explanation behind her Mother's one-word answer to Daniel's theory about Harrison's so-called crucible.
Flashback Start
"Sooner or later, everyone goes through a crucible at some point in their lives. I'm guessing, and Dad agrees, but I think Harrison's was living in this place and going through what the Muggles put him through. As Mum explained it: most people believe there are two types of people who go into a crucible; the ones who become stronger from the experience and survive it…and then there are the ones who die. But there's a third type: the ones who learn to love the fire and choose to stay in their crucible because it's easier to embrace the pain when it's all you know anymore." (2)
Flashback End
Since that moment, Neville had spent more than a few times wondering which one of the three types of people Harrison had become.
After all, it was obvious that he'd survived the experience, but, as far as being a child was concerned, Harrison had died on the inside, leaving the outside to show this cold, unsociable side of him, but then there was the thought of the third type.
One who loved the fire because it was all he knew.
Was that who Harrison was?
It certainly sounded like him.
He'd been left alone, cast into an abyss from which he might never emerge and, now, as Neville and Hermione had seen, there were times Harrison preferred isolation. He preferred to be alone and ignore everything around him, including how his words or actions affected others.
Just look at how he'd been in that first Potions lesson and when he'd been challenged by both Professor Snape and Hermione.
But then, Neville thought about what had happened with Malfoy: now he'd heard about this crucible of Harrison's, he had to wonder if this was a side-effect or even a result of that very crucible. And, if so, what did it mean for the stoic young man with eyes like the Killing Curse?
Shivering at the thought, or perhaps at the cold that blew through the room from the wintry scene outside, Neville went to leave his bed, but as he did so, he was surprised to see Harrison open his eyes before he smiled.
"Merry Christmas, Neville."
"Uh…you too, Harrison," said Neville, a note of unease in his voice that was only augmented by Harrison's smile.
Since when did Harrison smile and look like he actually meant to smile?
"I suppose we should go down and make ourselves known," said Harrison, earning another speechless look from Neville as the emerald-eyed scion made his way out of the bedroom, pausing only once to look back as he asked, "Well? Are you coming?"
"Right behind you," replied Neville, though he still frowned as he made to follow Harrison to join their friend and hosts.
One thing was for sure; Neville doubted he would ever fully crack the code of Harrison Potter and his unusual way of things.
Still, at least Harrison seemed to be trying to reunite with their hosts.
MoM
Before that day, Harrison had never really had a reason to enjoy Christmas, even if it was only pretending to do so.
At the Children's Home, Christmas was a small affair of meagre, cheap gifts, hopes and promises that nobody intended to keep and, more often than not, another vain attempt by the staff or even the other children to make new friends and ideas for the future.
Christmas with the Grangers, however, was a – dare he think it – fun affair!
It started with everyone being allowed to pick one present from the neat piles in the lounge before, as one, they opened said gifts, said their thanks and made sure to show due respect to the others. After that, Daniel explained to Harry and Neville that the Granger tradition was to enjoy family time and then finish opening presents after dinner, where the big meal could be digested while everyone revelled in everyone else's happiness about the gifts they'd received.
It was an odd tradition, even Harrison admitted it.
Although, as much as he found the tradition an unusual one, he still agreed to play along and respect the cultural differences between his former experiences and the new ones he would have with the Grangers.
He might have all but bared his soul to everyone in hysteria, but he was still willing to honour their hosts.
First on the one-present train was Hermione and, when she pulled out one of her larger gifts, only Neville saw a curious smirk play on Harrison's lips when they saw her gift was wrapped in fine, Gryffindor-red wrappings and seemed to have been given the care and protective detail of the Crown Jewels themselves.
When Hermione eyed the tag that was looped through a beautiful, dark-blue ribbon, she gasped when she read, "To Hermione: from Harrison."
Even Neville looked stunned while Daniel and Emma gave the amused young man a searching glance.
When he saw their looks, Harrison shrugged, "I regret to inform you, Dr and Mrs Granger that I didn't have time to consider what might be a kind gift for the two of you, but I was still willing to make the effort for my friend."
A second gasp suddenly escaped Hermione while Neville had to hide the smile he had on his face behind a fake yawn…and with good reason.
Harrison had just willingly called Hermione a friend, which was something they'd both been hoping he'd do since their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express back in September.
As he stared at his friend, Neville couldn't help but ask, 'Could the experiences of their first night really have affected Harrison so much that he actually acknowledges who we are at last? Or is this for show? Is he just pretending so as not to disrespect the Grangers on Christmas Morning?'
Before he could speculate further, Neville gasped when he heard Hermione let out an awed gasp of her own as she revealed a copy of the same book they'd both seen Harrison reading from while they were in the Chamber of Pride.
The Encyclopaedia Mystica.
"Harrison…"
"Look at it this way," said Harrison, as though he'd anticipated Hermione's reaction, "Now you don't have to come asking if you can borrow my copy, though it's just the basic level Encyclopaedia. If you want the updates I've had applied to mine since back when I bought my version, you'll have to purchase those enchantments from Flourish and Blotts yourself. I, on the other hand, paid for a special enchantment that set me back a pretty penny, as they say, but it provides a constant update to my Encyclopaedia, so I don't have to keep going back to the store. And yet, even though it's not on the same level as mine, it's still got quite the library in there."
"I…I…I honestly don't know what to say," whispered Hermione, a part of her wanting to hug her friend for the thoughtful gift, but given the fact she knew he didn't like to be touched, she had to rein in her urges.
She also felt a small urge to smack him one – playfully, of course – for being so tight-fisted that he'd given her the basic package and not gone the whole hog for one of his two nearest and dearest of friends. Then again, much like in classes, she also reasoned he had probably thought of that as being him doing the work for her and, as she remembered from their misunderstanding, Harrison hated anyone doing the work for him, much less him having to do the same for anyone else.
So, rather than indulge either urge, instead, she looked up at Harrison with wide eyes before she added, "Thank…thank you, Harrison."
"You're welcome," said Harrison, stretching up while he cracked his fingers over his head, stretching them out before he sighed deeply, looking to the others as he asked, "So, one down, four to go…who's next?"
"You," said Hermione before her parents could say anything.
While Harrison nodded slowly, he turned to the pile that he'd been surprised to find was his.
Admittedly, it wasn't as big or well-thought-out as Neville's, Hermione's or the Granger elders, but Harrison didn't care; nor did he take much time in picking as he reached out blindly and plucked the first gift he got his hands on from the pile; it wasn't that big and it looked like it had been wrapped in a hurry, but as he held it, Harrison still took the liberty of eyeing the tag.
"To Harry…Merlin's beard, I hate being called Harry…from Hagrid; that's odd, why would the groundskeeper be sending me a present?"
"I don't know," admitted Hermione, looking to Neville, who shook his head in response to her unspoken question while they both looked back when Harrison opened the wrappings. When he did so, however, both Gryffindors saw the twitch in their friend's usually-blank-faced expression when he revealed a small book, which he opened almost immediately.
When he opened it, however, the twitch showed itself and yet, to Hermione's half-relief, Harrison didn't seem to hurry in getting rid of the book.
"What…what is it?" asked Neville curiously.
"It…" whispered Harrison, his voice edged by a note of emotion that neither of them had heard before as he looked from the book to his two friends.
"It…it's a photo album…filled with pictures of…of my parents."
Hearing this, Hermione's hands flew to her mouth while Daniel's eyes narrowed with a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. Emma, meanwhile, seemed as torn between conflicting emotions as her daughter had been as she watched Harrison turn the pages so slowly and carefully, he might as well have been holding the rarest tome ever in his hands.
As for Neville, he gulped before he asked Harrison, "Do…do you want to be alone?"
"N…no…" said Harrison, again sounding as emotional as before, "This…this is a princely gift…I mean, I never knew them, not really, but…but because I never forget anything, I…I often used to remember…voices…whispers and…and…"
"Sorry Harrison," said Hermione suddenly before, as Harrison looked up to question her about why she was apologising, he got his answer just as quickly when his body visibly flinched as she moved to hug him, her head resting on his shoulder while, in his shock, Harrison dropped the journal onto the floor, allowing the Granger elders and Neville to see one of the pictures in the book.
It was a picture of a beautiful red-haired lady with green eyes that were the same colour as Harrison's as well as a handsome, roguish-looking male with dark hair and dark eyes; both of them were sat together on an ordinary-looking bench while there, in their arms, was a sleeping infant dressed in a Gryffindor-red Babygro.
Due to the magical nature of the picture, Daniel and Emma saw the redhead gently rocking the child in her arms into his slumber while the male smiled down at the infant with a proud smile as he gently teased the belly area of the Babygro, like he was tickling or soothing the infant at the same time the female was rocking him to sleep.
"Is…is that…" Emma began, looking to Neville, who nodded softly, though he had to move quickly to wipe a tear from his eyes.
"Lily and James Potter," said Neville, his voice hoarse from emotion, as well as a hint of pain as, unlike Harrison, he'd actually seen many photos like this one in his parents' collection, but he hadn't had the foresight, or even a hint of thought, to make such a gift to Harrison.
While his heart ached with guilt at his slip, Neville looked to the Grangers, "Harrison's parents…and yes, he's the baby in their arms. This is…"
"My real family…" added Harrison, earning awed, saddened, but also understanding looks from Daniel, Emma and Neville when they saw he hadn't moved from where he was sat, though Daniel's expression softened slightly when he heard his daughter sniffling even as she hugged Harrison.
The aforementioned boy was still, but not as tense or firm as he had been the other day.
If anything, he looked like he'd been shocked into an absolute state of unwilling relaxation as he looked at the picture, his eyes glistening with tears he seemed to refuse to shed, "The…the only real family I…I had who…who could say they actually loved me…that they cared for me and…and my growth…and they were taken from me."
"By You-Know-Who," finished Neville, but Harrison shook his head.
"I think you mean by Voldemort!" hissed Harrison, earning the obligatory flinch from Neville at the use of the name that many wizards feared to speak, before Harrison surprised him, as well as the Grangers, when the usually-stoic boy moved his arm and put it around Hermione, his voice soft and calm as he told her, "Don't cry, Hermione; trust me: whether I want to or not, seeing this…seeing how they loved me. It makes me feel, but like I said, I never forget anything."
"I…I'm sorry," whispered Hermione, pulling herself back from Harrison's side as she wiped her eyes, trying and failing to show a content, if friendly air about her, "I just…all these weeks…ever since we first met, you…you've never shown any hint of knowing…or caring about them. You…you didn't even seem too concerned…about Halloween or…or what happened ten years ago…"
"Well, let's be honest, I did have something more important to focus on that night," drawled Harrison, earning a surprised look from his friends.
First acknowledging emotions and now Harrison had made a joke!
"Maybe," said Hermione, hoping her current condition didn't betray the shock she felt, "But…but you never said a word about them. I mean, except for what happened with Professor Snape, you didn't even appear to acknowledge what happened that night at all."
"Because I didn't need to," said Harrison, bending forwards as he picked up the journal again, though not before he closed it, setting it down next to him while he told Hermione, "I never tell you a lot of things, Hermione, but only because, as I said before, my life's not some open story that I'll tell to just anyone. However, as for Professor Snape, that's something a little more personal to me, but the reason I don't seem to acknowledge who they were…it's because I decided a long time ago I wasn't coming to Hogwarts to be their shadow. Or to let the shadow of their deaths hang over me for seven years, but, while I don't do that, I do feel them…I feel the pain of losing them every damn day and that pain is something I have etched into me ever since…ever since that night."
"Then how come you never tried talking about it?" asked Neville suddenly, earning a faint smirk from Harrison as he looked to his friend.
"Because I have a permanent reminder of their care at my side, Neville," said Harrison, earning a confused look from Neville before his eyes widened with the next words that left his friend's lips.
"Come on, why do you think I was always willing to call you my companion and now, as I know you've both wanted me to do, my friend? I told you, I never forgot a thing from before that night or what happened that night: such as the playdates that…that Mum and Dad used to have with Frank and Alice Longbottom before…before we had to disappear from the world."
As Neville stared in abject disbelief, Hermione's eyes widened as she looked from Harrison to Neville before, returning her gaze to Harrison, she filled in the blank.
"You…you remember him as a baby; how you played together back then: that's why you trusted him without needing proof like…like with me."
For a moment, Harrison was surprised that Hermione had figured it out so quickly, but as he looked to her, he nodded, "You know, I don't care what anyone else has to say about you, Hermione; you are, quite possibly, the brightest witch of our age."
A blush rose up Hermione's cheeks, though before she could say anything, Daniel cleared his throat, "Harrison…it seems we owe you an apology."
"You're not going to hug me too, are you?" drawled Harrison, earning a scoff from Daniel while Emma and Hermione both chuckled.
"No," said Daniel, looking to his daughter before he returned his attention to Harrison, "When…when you bared your soul, I thought you needed the protective detail of someone who could be there to keep your secrets, so I gave Hermione a stern warning about abandoning you. But now, and I'm extending that apology to you as well, sweetheart, but now I see I was wrong to assume that about you, so I'd like to apologise."
"No need," said Harrison, smirking in amusement while he nodded to Hermione, "I now understand where your daughter got her way with assuming things without evidence, Daniel, but thank you for trying to make Hermione and, obviously, Neville stay true to their loyalties and friendship."
"Maybe," agreed Daniel, before he swallowed hard as he looked to Emma, who nodded once before, looking back to Harrison, he added, "But I had no right in trying to force you to do or be anything you didn't choose to be. I'm also sorry our house brought back such terrible memories for you; what you said about the people…and I use the term very loosely, who lived here, I'd always wondered what happened to them, but I never would have guessed anything like what you told me."
As Harrison shrugged, Daniel cleared his throat, "Now, this is a break from tradition, but…well, if you'd let us, I'd like to give you a gift, Harrison."
"You want to open your home to me."
Not for the first time were the Grangers or Neville surprised by Harrison's matter-of-fact tone, let alone the way he seemed to fill in the blank himself as he sniffed once before he explained, "In that case, I have another confession to make: since the summer, I've been trying to find the best way to get myself emancipated, even if only in the magical world, so I won't have to go back to the orphanage. I had hoped to get it done by the year's end, but my schedule was constantly changed by petty squabbles and egotistical idiots…and my own personal demons."
Hermione gasped as she remembered what Harrison had said about some business he'd wanted to take care of over the holidays.
And yet he'd given that up in favour of being around – now officially – his friends!
Silently vowing to try and help, if he'd let her, Hermione watched as, running a hand through his dark hair, Harrison smirked before he looked to the Grangers, "However, if you're offering this to me in the interim, Daniel, I'd be honoured to accept…even if it does mean coming back to a place I never wanted to see for as long as I might live."
"They can always adopt you," suggested Hermione, earning a scoff from Harrison while Emma gave Daniel a look that said she was, at least, thinking about making that an option, but her husband sent her a subtle shake of the head.
As much as they'd both wanted a son, and the chance of having a baby brother for Hermione, Daniel could tell that this wasn't that sort of relationship between them – meaning Harrison and the elder Grangers – much less between Harrison and Hermione.
There was something there, but it wasn't brother-sister; for now, it was a slow-burn friendship that might become something more.
Time would tell.
"No need for that, Hermione," replied the emerald-eyed scion, though as he did so, he looked to the Grangers, "But it is a gift I'm humbled to accept and I don't say that to just anyone. So, as long as you respect I'm not like any other kid and you don't try and warp me like they did, then…then I can have a few words in the right ears and get the official business taken care of."
"Of…of course," said Daniel, swallowing hard before he looked to Hermione, "Are…are you all right with this too, Hermione?"
"Yes," said Hermione, looking to Harrison, "And, for the record, no matter what Dad's intentions were in getting Neville and I to swear never to abandon you, even if he hadn't done, we won't, Harrison…just please, don't stop being…this!"
"You just indicated to all of me," muttered Harrison, earning a laugh from Hermione, "No promises…"
Even Neville seemed surprised, but also relieved that Harrison might have found a way to turn the crack of humanity in him into something more, though he also had to laugh along with the others when Harrison looked up before he went on;
"Now, if we're all done spoiling a guest, I think it's someone else's turn for presents."
MoM
Snow.
Even after the interesting Christmas Harrison shared with the Grangers, as well as Neville, he couldn't get over how pure and calm snow looked as it fell against the windows of the Hogwarts Express.
In their compartment, the three friends were sat around a small jar, which Hermione had filled with small, bluebell-coloured flames that helped warm them on the cold ride ahead. After that, the brunette seemed content to lose herself in her copy of the Mystica while Neville decided to switch his attention between Harrison and one of his own school books, cramming for the new term. As for Harrison, he was sat in his usual, straight-backed posture, one hand stroking Loki's fur while the other rested by his side, his eyes looking at the winter wonderland that welcomed them to Scotland.
As it had been on their first day, it was already starting to get dark as they drew nearer to Hogwarts, though Harrison didn't move his gaze from the beauty and wonder of the snow-capped night-time scene outside.
At one point, however, his attention was broken when Neville asked, "Um…Harrison?"
"Yeah?" asked Harrison, looking away from the window as he glanced at his friend.
"Before we get to school," replied Neville, stretching up before he took a breath, "I was wondering if…if we could talk about what you said over the holidays? About…about remembering me from…from when we were babies and everything?"
"Sure," said Harrison, earning a curious look from Hermione, who seemed content to close her book while she shared in the conversation between the trio, which Harrison must have noticed as he smirked, "I suppose this is something you've also been curious about, right, Hermione?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," admitted the brunette, though as she did so, she cleared her throat before she added, "But you should only talk about it if you feel comfortable, Harrison. I…I know, and I'm grateful you decided to finally open up to us over the holidays, but if you think we haven't…"
Before she could finish, however, Hermione's eyes widened when Harrison smiled at her, lifting a single finger to cut her off before, heaving a deep sigh, he looked from one friend to the other, "Look, before we get to school, I think we should clear the air after how your parents opened their home to me, Hermione, for which, while I might never say it to their faces or show it so openly, but I am grateful to them for doing that. In truth, aside from Master Flitwick, they're the first adults I feel like I can trust to have my best intentions, even when I might seem to do things for the wrong reasons."
While Hermione was both surprised and humbled by Harrison's words, the young apprentice looked back to her, "As I was saying, let's clear the air with that right now: I can't promise I will gladly open up to everyone or that I will forgive you so easily if you repeat anything I've said to you this past holiday without my permission, but, to be honest, you two have helped me this winter more than anyone has done in ten years and a little longer."
Again, Hermione was surprised while Neville smiled as Harrison looked to him, "I never thought I could open the gateway to my own comfort zones with anyone and, although it is going to take time and patience, I want you both to know you will always be my first friends and I trust the two of you as friends. You came to me when you believed I needed help being ready for the unknown; you stayed true to the loyalty you showed me when we first met and you believe in me; you choose to stay true to that friendship, even though I didn't admit it was two-way."
"Harrison, you don't have…"
"Yes, my friend, I do," said Harrison, cutting off Neville before he could finish, "I always remember how nice it felt being around you, Neville; when we were babies, we settled around one another and our parents both let us play because they knew we were happy. I even have a memory of lying in the same crib and drifting off with my Mum singing to us."
To Hermione's surprise, Harrison shed a tear, which he swept away as quickly as it appeared before he told Neville, "That is how I know you are my friend, Neville Longbottom and, although it's taken me the better part of four months to admit it, I will always consider you my friend…even as close as my brother, though we don't share blood."
"Harrison," whispered Neville.
Rather than respond, however, Harrison looked to Hermione, "So, as long as it's just us or in the presence of anyone else I trust, such as Master Flitwick, I want you to know you have every right to talk to me about anything, Hermione. But if I ask you not to press the issue or I don't respond, I also hope you'll respect my desire not to say anything as you will anything I say."
"Of course," replied Hermione, swallowing hard before she cleared her throat, "So does that mean you're going to tell Professor Flitwick about what happened in…in my home and…and what the other Muggles did? I know…I mean, I get he's not exactly your Head of House, but if he can help…"
"If I believe he can help me, then I will confide in him, but only when I'm sure," said Harrison, linking his hands together before he leaned forwards, shifting Loki off of his lap as he did so. "As for the rest, I can't promise I won't be like I used to be: there are still tasks at hand that need fulfilling and I have to take them at my own pace. But, if it means proving this winter wasn't a fluke, I will give you both my word that I'll try harder with our peers."
"Thank you," said Neville, letting out a soft laugh, "I know the Weasley Twins would love to get to know you a little better after what happened with Malfoy and how you always seem to be able to shift from this serious side of you to a side worthy of…well, I think your Dad would probably be proud to see you being such a brat at times."
"Maybe…we'll never know," argued Harrison, earning a nod of understanding from Neville while Hermione wiped a stray tear from her own eye as Harrison looked back to Neville as he asked, "So, what exactly do you want to talk about from the holidays, Neville?"
"Well…actually, what you just hinted at," said Neville, indicating Harrison with an amused smile on his face as he asked, "You said you remember when you were a baby and, more than once, I've heard you say you never forget anything, right?"
"Right."
"How?" asked Neville, looking now to Hermione before he asked her, "What I mean is: is that just as uncommon in the Muggle world as it is in the magical one, Hermione? Can people actually remember as far back as their baby days as though it was only yesterday?"
"Not many," admitted Hermione, looking to Harrison, who nodded once as though encouraging her to take point.
"In the Muggle world, there are those whose minds are so sharp and well-trained, if not well-formed that they can manage to remember a specific thing or information without much effort; some experts in such circles even have a name for it: eidetic memory, or photographic memory to give it a different name. However, there have been some who claim they can remember every little detail of their lives, right the way back to their own birth, which sounds weird, but that's what it is."
"Panmnesia," explained Harrison, earning a nod from Hermione, "It's much stronger than eidetic memory too, Hermione: it's a skill that surpasses all forms of memory, be it sensory, emotional or otherwise. I first learned its name thanks to…You-Know-Who…and when I did, I realised just how special it made me. At the same time, like you and Neville, I wondered if it was some sort of by-product of my magic; it could even be some positive consequence of the night my parents died at Voldemort's hands."
While Hermione cocked an eyebrow, Neville grimaced, "Harrison, do you have to use the name so carelessly?"
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," chorused Harrison and Hermione, earning an incredulous look from Neville before Harrison smirked, "I know what I can do might seem unusual, Neville, and, believe me, for obvious reasons, there are parts of my memory that I wish I could just close off and never have to think about again, but I've never found a way to do so…until before Christmas, anyway."
"The Mind Palace," said Hermione, earning a nod from Harrison, "Have you been trying?"
"Every morning and night in my room, but I'll be looking up more information on it when we get back to Hogwarts," explained Harrison, frowning with a look of thought that Hermione and Neville hadn't seen on their friend's face before that day. "It's strange: most things with magic just come to me, as do most things I've read and experimented with…"
"Intuition," said Hermione, earning a hum from Harrison.
"But working on my Mind Palace, forging it and being able to focus my mind enough to make it how I want it…it seems to evade me somehow, like it's a skill I'm either not ready for…or there's something inside me that…that's stopping me from accessing that potential. I don't know what it may be; and you both know how much I hate saying those words, but whatever it is, it only spurs me on to discover more before I lose control, not just of my own mind, but my own magic as well."
"So, in other words, it's experimenting time," laughed Hermione, earning a groan from Harrison even as the train started slowing down, indicating that the journey back to Hogwarts was nearing its end.
And the new and improved future of the Hogwarts Trio was about to begin.
"Hermione, surely even you remember me telling Master Flitwick not to tempt me with that word…but also…yeah!"
So, an intense, emotional and curious – not to mention long, but I wanted to get the Christmas element over and done with all at once, so that's why I wrote it like this – 13th Chapter and it looks like Harrison is ready to face whatever may come next, but are appearances as deceiving with him as they can be with everything else?
Also, what might Harrison's experiment unearth, especially now he's come out about the reason for his trust in Neville, and his hope for the future with his fellow Trio members?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: A stroll in the dark leads to some curious revelations, as well as something inevitable;
Please Read and Review
NUMBERED ANNOTATIONS: (1)
This is a twist on a line spoken by Mark Gatiss in the Benedict Cumberbatch-led series of Sherlock;
Don't know why, but thinking about it and how cool and apathetic Harrison can be, it seemed like a weird, but fun add-in;
(2)
The information on a 'crucible' is an altered explanation from the CW series, Arrow, which is a favourite angle of mine to take whenever I imagine an antisocial, if somewhat-closed-off Harry, as he is in this adventure;