AN: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding World Universe.

Chapter 15

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. As a Head of House, she felt like she never had a chance to breathe. With over a hundred and fifty Hufflepuffs, she had the most students of any of the Houses, but not by much.

Every year, there were a handful of students that needed extra attention. Harry Potter happened to count for at least two or three students put together. First, he was very clearly the victim of abuse by his family. Then he was the Boy-Who-Lived and all the trappings and popularity that came with it. He attracted the attention of many that he likely wasn't even aware of. As much as she hated that some of the students and even much of Magical Britain looked down on Hufflepuff, the fact that he'd been sorted into her House was a boon for him. Being underestimated wasn't always a bad thing. Finally, there was the boy himself.

Potter was not a bad child. His father wasn't a bad child… per-say. There were plenty of problems, and the rules were more guidelines for him and his friends. The same thing could be said for many Slytherin students. He also had a lot of energy and was ahead of his peers. The young Sirius Black significantly influenced James Potter during their entire time at Hogwarts.

Then there was Lily Evans. Brilliant and a Muggle-born. The boy was so much like his mother that it hurt. She considered the comparisons for a moment. No, Harry wasn't like her. He had Lily's intelligence and his father's cunning, but his life with his extended family also damaged him before Hogwarts.

Lily Evans was a hothead. A lot like Granger in some ways. It was a trait that found fertile soil in Gryffindor. She had something to prove not only to herself but everyone else. Thankfully, Lily didn't have Granger's lack of social awareness. No, that had passed on to Harry as well. The boy was all too aware of those around him. The slightest change in mood could set him off, especially by anyone in an authority position.

Poppy Pomfrey wasn't aware of the situation. That was mainly Pomona's fault. In an attempt to keep things under wraps, as nothing was secret in the school for long, Pomona and the others hadn't informed the one person who could have made a difference. To her credit, Poppy recognized the symptoms and immediately gave Potter space. When they'd talked after Potter returned to his dormitory, the Healer thought it was something to do with the cursed object's after-effects.

"Cursed object". That was troubling in and of itself. Someone targeted Potter and, in Quirinus' class, no less. Something felt off about the entire situation. First, Potter goes to Severus, of all people. At first, she'd been hurt that he didn't trust her until she got the complete picture from Poppy and Severus himself. Harry was looking to buy a Calming Draught. It was a good idea if he was feeling pain and rage. The rage was… troubling. It might be a sign of something deeper.

Abuse victims could have vicious outbursts. The Malfoy boy was fortunate Potter wasn't like that. At least, not yet. She wasn't so deluded to know that her Hufflepuffs had darker secrets of their own. Jugson became a Death Eater before being imprisoned in Azkaban. He'd been a year behind the Potters, Severus, and a generation of others who fought and died in a pointless war. She'd lost a brother and niece to the Death Eaters, and his family hadn't chosen sides.

The fact that they found an answer to Potter's condition so quickly was troubling. A cursed object was frankly too easy an explanation. She wasn't an expert on the Dark Arts. Severus looked skeptical, too, even when Albus claimed that Harry's problems in Quirinus' class would be at an end. Even if that were true, she still found the answer too convenient.

There was nothing for it now, but hope it all worked out for the best, and she hated that. Approaching Potter while he mentally retreated from everyone would not go over well. There were mind-healers, but she didn't think he would willingly talk with one.

A knock came at her office door. She looked up at the time. With a wave of her hand, the door opened, and she sat back with a smile. "Miss Harper, how are you?" she asked.

The short first-year with brilliant blue eyes, long blonde hair, and a noticeable gap in her teeth seemed reluctant to enter. "Professor," she said as she fully stepped inside. "You wanted to see me?"

Higher than average marks, excellent at working together, and part of… well, connected to Potter, the young witch was a fine example of a Hufflepuff. Pomona wasn't sure who actually ran the little study group, but Daisy Harper was always nearby. "Please, sit," she said softly. "It's just a quick meeting to see how you feel about Hogwarts, your classmates, and your studies. I just want to see if you need anything and, if so, how I can help."

Harper nodded and sat on the edge of the seat. She bit her lip. "Uh, Professor," she said after a moment. "I'm, uh, fine with everything. I think my marks are okay. I'm sure you would argue they could be better," she said with a familiar grin. It faded away as she squirmed in her chair. "What exactly happened to Harry… er, Potter?" she blurted out.

Pomona didn't smile as she normally would. It was a question she had heard a few times in the last week, and not all of them from students. She also didn't have a concrete answer or one she felt she could share. "As you can imagine, he's had a difficult life. Mr. Potter is adjusting the best way he can. I know you and your friends have done a wonderful job welcoming him to Hufflepuff and ensuring he feels included."

Harper's nose scrunched up. "Does he hate people or something?"

Pomona shook her head. How did she explain to an eleven-year-old that people had hurt Potter without actually saying it? "No, he does not hate people. We all go through struggles. Sometimes, they are physical ones, like Professor Quirrell's stutter. Others have struggles inside that are harder to see. We must be patient and understand that everyone works things out in their own time. Before learning about it in Herbology, did you know how to combat Devil's Snare?" she asked gently.

Harper shook her head. "Harry knew. He read it in the coursebook."

That sounded like Potter. "So Mr. Potter knew about Devil's Snare when you didn't. Would you say that Mr. Potter knows how to be a witch?"

Harper giggled and shook her head.

"He knew about something, and you know about something else. Each of you has different experiences. That is what I mean by everyone goes through different struggles. Mr. Potter wouldn't do very well at the start if he were suddenly a witch. Just as you wouldn't know what to do before the lesson on how to contain Devil's Snare. Until you have experienced or gone through something, it is hard to understand what struggles you might encounter. Life is the same. Age, even old witches like me," she said with a wink, "don't have the answers to everything. When you are young, you will experience more new situations and subjects than someone my age. Experience. Mr. Potter is learning and growing, exactly like you are learning and growing. Patience is something that we excel in. Just give him time to process and learn."

Harper pursed her lips. "So, there isn't anything we can do?" she asked slowly.

"Continue doing what you've been doing since the start of the year. Include Mr. Potter, but be respectful of his space. I know it's hard, but simply being there when he is ready will do more good than I have words to explain."

Daisy Harper nodded slowly. "I will tell the others. They were worried too. He… well, he's our friend, but I don't know if he thinks of us that way. He's gone back to using our last names," she muttered.

Pomona nodded. She'd noticed it as well. "Just give him time. In the meantime, how do you feel about your studies? Do you feel ready for the end-of-term exams? Is there an area you might feel you need to work on?" she asked, a sudden idea coming to her.

Harper's nose scrunched. "History of Magic," she admitted after a moment.

That was a common answer. In her opinion, Professor Binns shouldn't have been a teacher at the school for so long. There were plenty of other classrooms that new professors could utilize to teach the core subject.

"Then, might I suggest you approach Mr. Potter respectfully and ask for help? If he says no, that's okay. However, You might be surprised," she said with a smile.

Pomona thought Bones or Macmillan would be better to approach Potter, but they also might be more hurt if he rejected them. Harper was unknowingly a wonderful candidate to approach him. From what she'd seen, he would help, and it might draw him back out of his shell, even if for a little while.

"Asphodel," Pomona said as she tapped her wand twice on a depressed stone in the wall near Greenhouse 3. The small stretch of off-white stone once matched the marble pillars of the grand atrium of connected greenhouses. At some point, one of the Headmasters, or possibly the Castle itself, changed. Now, the atrium held several large fruit-bearing trees that produced year-round.

Many didn't realize the true scope of Hogwarts. The Founders, Helga Hufflepuff in particular, had wanted the school to be a bastion against any who might want it taken down or destroyed. Through hard work over the ages, Hogwarts had become entirely self-sufficient. Every bit of food was nurtured or grown, cooked or processed, and served to the future generations of witches and wizards.

The Forbidden Forest wasn't just a potentially dark place. While previous Headmasters, and even Albus Dumbledore himself, didn't fully uphold their position of cleansing the darkness within the ancient wood, protections were in place. Now, the house-elves took care of many of the secret places deep within the Forest that even she wouldn't venture into.

The off-white stone melted away to reveal a doorway. Pomona opened the door and stepped inside the magical wonderland of different environments. A long passageway with crystal-glass windows displayed different biomes through its slightly distorted bubbles. As she went down the stone corridor, she spotted house-elves working before disappearing again.

At the end of the long corridor, she tapped her wand on several sigils buried in the wall. When she finished the pattern, they glowed blue for a moment, and then the wall vanished.

The wide, circular room had a massive life-like badger looking toward a floor-to-ceiling portrait with a yellow field and a black frame. No one was in the portrait and hadn't been for many generations. Helga Hufflepuff either never finished her portrait, sealing a portion of herself and magic into the living world after her death, or her magical imprint moved on.

What she came for sat on a pedestal near a massive stone desk that might have been Helga's workstation at one point. Pomona doubted it. Likely, it was installed by a previous Head of Hufflepuff House. She, like all of her predecessors, had some control over the room. An enormous tome on the pedestal turned its massive, thick velum pages without assistance.

Pomona didn't like using the Head of House room. For one, she suspected that every Head of House and likely the Headmaster had access to a room like this. It wasn't common knowledge, but the Architect of Hogwarts had been Helga Hufflepuff's lover at one point. While the wizard had worked closely with all the founders, especially Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga had a quiet hand in everything that went into the final design.

That included the security of the Castle itself. In Helga's memoirs, she clearly said that she disagreed with Salazar Slytherin on his stance against Muggle-borns. However, she understood what a threat they were if someone turned against the fledgling wizarding society. Helga Hufflepuff was not stupid, but she wanted to believe the best in everyone. It's one reason Pomona felt she could follow Albus, even if his recent decisions were troubling.

The massive Tome flipped to another page to reveal the first floor of the Castle. Most students were in the Common Room or in bed. She could see their names, many jumbled together, and where they were at all times. She had a feeling Severus used his copy of the Tome to track his charges.

The unnamed Tome only tracked pupils and only her charges. The crest on their school robes acted as a link. She suspected the Headmaster had a different version that tracked or at least could track more than just pupils. It had been many years, but in her magical contract when becoming a professor, there was a line about agreeing to be monitored by the Castle. The Castle, not the Headmaster. She likely had no more control over the Tome than her peers. Another stipulation of becoming a Head of House was that she couldn't talk about the secret rooms she knew of in the Castle.

Every Head of House had secrets they kept. It had been that way for generations and likely added as the founders stepped down. While great educators for their time, each founder was the head of their own Great House, Clan, or Cabal. A cabal back then simply meant an alliance and not the dark meaning it had taken over time.

The reason she was here was on the ground floor, in his dormitory. Pomona sighed and rubbed her forehead. Harry Potter disappeared after class, and no one saw him until the next day. She'd feared the worst after the incident in the Hospital Wing when he didn't appear to the others until time for class the next morning. He didn't appear to anyone over the weekend, and the ghosts and portraits she sent to watch over him reported that he wasn't in his dormitory or anywhere they found in the Castle.

Somehow, the boy had an invisibility cloak. He likely wasn't skilled enough to use the Disillusionment Charm, but stranger things had happened. No, he went everywhere with it and used the Kitchens to eat. At some point, Mr. Potter learned how to use a Sound-Silencing Charm or something similar. His dormmates said they never heard anything, even when the privacy curtain was open. After the weekend and his complete avoidance of everyone around him, she went to Albus.

That had not been a productive conversation.

"It is evident he is in an abusive household, Albus. What is the plan so I can discuss… or you can discuss," she amended after a moment, "his living situation during the summer. We spoke about a magical family hosting him last time."

The Headmaster nodded and looked down at something on his desk. "I am still awaiting confirmation, but I believe a plan will be in place before the end of the term," he said.

Pomona trusted Albus, but this was her badger. "Should be" was not "is taken care of". There was some time before June, but they still had to consider what Harry would want. If they suddenly started making decisions for him without his knowledge, then how would he work with them in the future? Lack of control, understanding, and love had caused this issue in the first place. At no point did Albus say he would talk to Potter about the plans. He might do so, but what was she willing to bet on it?

The page of the Tome turned, and she saw Fields on the sixth floor moving toward the Astronomy tower staircase. He was another charge she had to keep an eye on. Jordan Fields had too much energy for a third year and not enough sense to channel it into studies. Instead, he thought the school was a place to explore. While it was, doing so out-of-bounds was not the time for it.

The page turned again. No one was on the seventh floor. She waited for one more full cycle to ensure all of her students were where they were supposed to be, with the exception of Fields. She'd have a word with him in the morning.

When she was satisfied, she left the hidden room and returned to her quarters on the third floor. Each Head of House professor had two bedrooms within the castle. The first was with many other professors on the third floor. She also had a room near the Hufflepuff Common Room that would serve as a place to crash for the night if needed. Severus used the quarters near his Common Room and never slept on the third floor with the other professors.