AN
We're getting there. Inner circle of friends is slowly forming. Harry doesn't even realise it's happening.
1991, 1st year
November went by relatively uneventful – as uneventful as anything could be at a school full of magic and immature children wielding said magic.
By the time December came around, Severus' worries were still proven to be for nothing. Harry was glad about that. He had told the others about Severus' suspicion that someone might be targeting him and they had all – all! – instantly turned into overbearing mother hens. Each in their own way, of course, but still …
His housemates had eased up a bit, now that nothing had happened for a month, so that was a relief.
And then Harry signed up to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas.
It was mid-December. A thick layer of snow covered the grounds outside. The castle was slowly being decked out with Christmas decorations. (Harry heard the pure-bloods grumble more than once about the differences between Yule Trees and Christmas Trees.) The corridors were bitter cold unless you knew a handy warming charm. (Thank goodness for Daphne.) Rhea was the only one who was happy about the cold, truly. And the two red-headed Gryffindor twins, apparently, who had – according to Pansy and Harry knew Pansy's gossip was always true – bewitched several snowballs to follow Professor Quirrel around, trying to hit the man's turban.
Professor Quirrel was also where the issue of the holidays first came up.
One day, after another mind-numbingly boring lesson of Defence, Rhea turned to the others.
"Would one of you mind staying behind? I have a question for Professor Quirrel."
Harry didn't even know how he ended up waiting by the doors with Blaise and Daphne without having volunteered and it didn't occur to him until later that Rhea never bothered with the 'no Slytherin out on their own' rule.
"So," Blaise said in an overly casual tone. "You're not going home for the holidays, Harry?"
Harry blinked. "No?"
The years before, Severus and Harry had stayed at Hogwarts, having a quiet celebration in Severus' quarters.
"I see."
"Is everything alright with your family?" Daphne asked. "Did something happen at home?"
It only dawned on Harry then what signing up to stay must have looked like to the others.
"We are a bit worried, you see? Because you will be all alone."
"Ah – I – Uhm."
"Oh, dear. See?" Blaise said. "This is why you need to become a better liar, dear. Now you have us even more worried."
"I will – I will talk to – Professor Snape. Would that – You don't have to worry about me, alright?"
"But we do, Harry. We all worry."
Harry tried his best not to grimace. "Please don't. There's no need."
Blaise and Daphne both gave him disconcertingly knowing looks, but allowed the matter to be dropped. When Rhea emerged from the classroom, they were already talking about a completely unrelated topic.
o
"Yes, I can see the problem," Severus said, a contemplative expression overtaking his face.
"Am I even allowed to tell anyone that you are my current guardian?"
"I'm afraid the headmaster wouldn't like that very much."
Harry sighed. "I thought so."
Silence.
"Maybe," Harry ducked his head. "Maybe I could pretend to go home? Take the train and someone picks me up at King's Cross to bring me back?"
"And who would that be?"
"Mrs Figg?"
Harry knew it was a bad idea the moment he said it. He couldn't let Mrs Figg come all the way to London just to play her part in a charade meant to deceive his housemates.
"There is no need to lie to your friends," Severus said. "If their Head of House tells them there is nothing to worry about and that they shouldn't pry, then that is what they will do."
"They will believe you? Just like that?"
"Of course. You should know better, Harry. They worry, but they are not Gryffindors."
"Right."
When Harry left Severus' office, Blaise and Daphne were waiting for him.
"How did it go?"
"You will know once we have reached the common room," came Severus' voice from behind Harry. He arched an eyebrow at Blaise and Daphne. "If you were trying to eavesdrop, perhaps try a subtler approach next time."
They gave him identical, innocent smiles.
"We would never, Professor," Daphne said.
Blaise leaned over to whisper into Harry's ear, "We would ask Rhea to do it instead."
"That reminds me," Harry said, ignoring Severus' curious look. "Do you know what she keeps looking at during mealtimes?"
"The head table."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes. But what at the head table?"
"No idea." Blaise shrugged. "I'm sure she'll tell us in some ominous way if she deems it important enough."
Once inside the common room, Severus called the first-year Slytherins together to tell them exactly what he had said he would tell them. Harry watched in fascination as they all nodded and accepted that explanation and then left the matter alone altogether. He worried, briefly, how such a situation could be abused – but then mentally shook his head at himself. Severus was a good Head of House. Severus was trustworthy. If he weren't, Harry wouldn't be living with him and the others wouldn't take his word for anything.
"I have a question," Draco spoke up. "I was meaning to invite Harry to the Malfoy Yule Ball. Will it be possible for him to attend?"
"As I will surely also receive an invitation," Severus replied with a hint of amusement, "I'm sure something can be arranged."
Harry blinked. He hadn't been expecting an invitation, considering that he was a half-blood and not exactly on the best of terms with Draco.
He was even more surprised, when he discovered that he was the only half-blood of their year to be invited. As Draco loved to boast of anything and everything, Harry didn't even have to wait for the actual event to learn which families had and which had not been invited and why, about how complicated the guest selection was, about the audacity of those who declined the invitation. (Although Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco seemed to hide profound relief underneath his scowl when Rhea personally told him she and her family wouldn't attend. The scowl was quite different compared to his reaction at Blaise turning the invitation down.)
The best part about the holidays was holing up in Severus' quarters with the lovely jumpers Mrs Figg had sent him as an early gift, Hedwig curled up in his lap and some good books to read. He had missed spending time with Severus like this, even if they rarely talked. He even got to grade some homework essays.
The winter solstice came before Christmas Eve and so Severus found no resistance when he asked for leave of his duties at Hogwarts for the evening. Harry wondered if he had received an invitation the years before as well and declined because of Harry. He decided it wasn't important enough to ask about.
Dressed in their finest dress robes – well, Harry only had the one set and they had purchased it precisely for this event – with Severus' hair freshly washed and Harry's long locks wrangled into something resembling an artful updo, they made their way down to Hogsmeade from where Severus could apparate them to Malfoy Manor. For security and logistical reasons, the Malfoy's Floo was – understandably – only open to those who would not be able to make the journey by other means of travel.
From the sheer size of the Manor and its surrounding lands alone, Harry would have thought the Malfoys' household to be a very large one. It wasn't. Truly, Draco and his parents and their servants (most of which were house-elves that preferred not to be seen) were the only ones living in the impressively huge building.
It already began at the wrought-iron gates that were not actually gates, because you could simply walk right through them as if they were smoke if you had your invitation at hand. The gravel driveway that led to the house was flanked by yew hedges and seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions.
The house itself loomed high into the sky above them with heavy double-doors leading into a large entrance area that was luxuriously decorated, complete with a magnificent carpet and moving portraits. A pair of finely dressed servants greeted them cordially and a quill floating next to them ticked their names off a list.
The room they were signalled to enter – the drawing room, as Harry later learned – was a large hall with an open space in the middle and small tables lining the walls. There were a lot of evergreens used as decorations everywhere – holly, mistletoe, yew, pine, and so many more Harry didn't recognise. There was no Yule Tree, though.
Draco was standing with his parents, looking very pompous as he nodded along while his parents entertained a group of important-looking people.
"Good evening, Narcissa, Lucius," Severus greeted their hosts.
"Severus," Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed with a smile. "It is good to see you. We have missed you terribly these last two years."
"My apologies."
"And who might this young man be?" she looked curiously at Harry.
"Mother," Draco said. "This is Harry Potter."
Narcissa Malfoy's smile widened. "Why, it is nice to meet you, Harry. Draco has told us quite a lot about you."
Harry could only smile and nod, hoping it didn't look too strained. Noticing the way Lucius Malfoy was gazing at him didn't help.
"Draco, darling, why don't you show Harry around a bit? I'm sure your friends would like to talk to you as well."
"Of course, mother."
They were barely out of earshot, when Draco leaned into Harry's space and said, in a petulant tone, "They never let me stay around when they want to talk business."
Harry gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Once you're older, surely."
Draco huffed. "Obviously. Ah, there's Daphne and Theo, now. And that's Daphne's younger sister, Astoria."
Truth be told, there were too many people around for Harry to feel in any capacity comfortable, but sticking with his friends helped. There were one or two adults that sought him out once they caught wind that Harry Potter was present, but having Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy at your side, knowing such things made you uncomfortable, meant you never needed to worry about 'bootlickers trying to curry favours' (Pansy's words, not Harry's). Of course, if Blaise were around, he would have scolded Harry for not hiding his unease better, but that was neither here nor there. If Rhea had been around, no one would have likely approached them in the first place.
Once all the guests had arrived, pleasantries exchanged and everyone sufficiently mingled, Mrs Malfoy called their attention to extend her greetings and open the celebrations with a small speech and the lighting of the Yule Log. Harry recognised the young servant who brought the large log from the entrance hall. As the Yule Log was set aflame, the magical lights went out, leaving only the numerous candles and the fireplaces to illuminate the room in a warm, slightly dim light.
"And now," Mrs Malfoy continued and signalled for the musicians Harry hadn't even noticed arriving to start playing, "I invite you to join me for the first dance of the evening."
Harry felt a brief moment of panic at that – until he realised not everyone actually joined Mr and Mrs Malfoy. While Draco took Theodore to the floor (or dragged, rather) and Daphne took her sister Astoria, Vincent and Gregory stayed behind with Harry. (Pansy had disappeared at one point). From where Harry was standing, it certainly looked magical – all the couples gliding over the floor in absolute grace.
"Enjoying yourselves?" came Severus' voice.
"Kind of," Harry answered truthfully.
"Hello, Professor," said Gregory, accompanied by a grunt from Vincent.
"If you feel overwhelmed –"
"My friends are here to help me," Harry said. "Or I will come and find you."
Severus glanced down at him, then back at the dancing couples. "Very well."
"Harry!" Draco emerged from the crowd, Theodore following closely behind. "Tell me you know how to dance!"
"Er – I'm sorry. I never learned."
Draco tsk-ed. "Do you know where Pansy is, then?"
"Dancing with Astoria," Daphne said. "Am I not good enough for you, Draco?"
"You are too much of a perfectionist."
"Comes with the hobby."
"Dancing is hardly a hobby."
Harry found himself snorting at their antics as they disappeared back onto the dance floor. He looked to the side, but Severus had already disappeared.
After three songs, Draco and Pansy returned and took Harry and the other boys to one of the tables along the walls, where Draco explained to Harry how to order food by tapping his wand against the table. Harry spent the rest of the evening safely tucked away there, his friends coming and going, until Severus finally came to retrieve him, ignoring the way Draco kept pouting about how early the evening still was.
Only after Harry had retired to his room in Severus' quarters, trying to fit around Hedwig, who had claimed his entire pillow for herself, did he realise how tense he had held himself all evening. It hadn't been bad. Harry would almost, tentatively even say it had been a good time. Still, too many people in one room always made him feel ill at ease. He was slowly growing accustomed to being almost constantly surrounded by students at Hogwarts, but being in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people around, most of them adults, was … challenging.
Harry felt much better in the morning – until he discovered the presents at the foot of his bed and realised he had not bought any for his housemates. Their assurances that they didn't mind did not ease his guilt.
Christmas was a much quieter affair. Harry was surprised to find another present, then warily eyed the parcel when he noticed nothing had been written on it, no card to be seen, and brought it to Severus for inspection.
Severus waved his wand over the parcel, frowned, then took out his dragonhide gloves to open it. A fluid, silvery-grey piece of cloth fell to the ground.
Harry blinked at it.
"Ah," was Severus' reaction and when Harry looked up at him, he found the strangest expression on the man's face.
"Oh, there's a note," Harry said, pointing. He didn't want to pick it up before Severus told him it was safe.
When Severus read the note, his expression soured. Then he took off his gloves and offered the little piece of paper to Harry.
"My … father …?" Harry looked at Snape, who was staring at the silvery cloth in his hands. "Do you know who …"
"The headmaster."
"The headmaster?"
"I would recognise that handwriting everywhere."
"But why would … What even is it?"
Severus sighed. "An invisibility cloak. Your …" his lips twisted, "… father and his … friends … used it to play pranks while at school."
Harry blinked. Pranks.
For a while, neither of them said anything. Harry didn't know what had upset Severus so, but he also had the feeling that asking would only worsen the man's mood. From the way Severus had spoken about Harry's father and the pranks, Harry could draw his own conclusions.
It wasn't until after Christmas dinner that the topic was brought up again.
"If you promise me not to use it to sneak out alone or for," and here Severus' expression twisted in the same way it had that morning, "pranks – then I will allow you to carry it with you."
Harry carefully accepted the cloak from him. "It's safe to use?"
"Yes."
Curious, Harry put the cloak on and looked down at himself – or down at where the rest of his body was now missing. Huh.
He looked up at Severus. "What would I even use it for?"
"To keep yourself safe, of course."
Oh.
Harry blinked. "That makes sense."
Severus gave him a wry smile. "I would hope it does."
"Thank you."
"It's not me you have to thank."
"I don't want to thank Headmaster Dumbledore. He didn't even sign his note."
"And you don't have to. The cloak belongs to you, in the first place."
"But why did the headmaster have it?"
Harry couldn't decipher the expression on Severus' face, but it didn't surprise him that Severus didn't know the answer to that question.
In the end, Harry simply tucked the cloak into his messenger bag and resolved to enjoy the rest of the holidays in peace and quiet, just as he had done before the Yule celebrations.
AN
I wonder what this Harry would have seen in the mirror of desire.