Chapter 10 – Good Things Go
Harry Potter chewed on his lip as he stared at the teetering pile of cards. In his hand, he held one with a picture of a wizard with a green chin. It pulsed, and he looked for the corresponding card on the table. He felt bad that his occlumency gave him an unfair advantage but didn't dwell on it too much as he tapped a card, which, when turned over, revealed a witch with a green hat. He put the matching cards together and carefully placed them atop the tower.
Katie scowled as she looked at her hand and picked up a card at random. The tower exploded, and Harry laughed as she blew soot from her face.
Alicia looked up from her book and snorted. "You're really not good at this, are you?"
"Shut up," Katie grumbled. "Harry's just freakishly good."
Harry flinched. He glanced around, hoping no one noticed.
"We can always play something else," Harry suggested.
"No, I'll beat you eventually," Katie huffed. "Go again?"
Harry shook his head. "I've got to talk to Flitwick about something before the feast."
"All right," Katie smirked at him. "I'll beat you next time, Potter."
"In your dreams, Bell," Harry smirked back.
A few minutes later, he found himself in the Charms Corridor. He knocked on Professor Flitwick's door.
"Come in," came the professor's voice. "Ah, Mr. Potter. How can I help you?"
"Oh, I wanted to speak to you about my exams. Do you know when I will be writing them?" Harry asked.
"Professor McGonagall and I will come to your home in the evening on the third of August."
"Sounds good," Harry nodded. "I'll try to be well prepared, Professor."
"I don't doubt it, Mr. Potter," Flitwick smiled. Harry opened his mouth to speak then closed it abruptly. The professor raised an eyebrow. "Is there something else I can do for you?"
"Yeah, Professor, I was wondering whether you could teach me how to fight – like you did against Quirrell," Harry said. Flitwick frowned.
"And why do you want to learn such a skill?"
"Professor, when you fought Quirrell, I just stood there uselessly," Harry said, shame clouding his face. "You got hurt because you had to protect me as well as yourself. I just don't want to be a liability."
"Mr. Potter, you are my student. It is my responsibility to protect you. You are not a liability," said the professor.
"But I could've helped," Harry pleaded. "For some reason, there are bad people after me – like Voldemort," Flitwick flinched slightly at the name. "I just want to be able to defend myself."
Flitwick appraised Harry with a glance. "All right, Mr. Potter, I will teach you how to duel. Remember that you must never use these skills to pick fights or harm those who do not deserve it. If I find that you've used my teachings for ill, I will be most strict with your punishment. Do you understand?" He looked at Harry sternly.
Harry nodded readily. "Understood, professor. I wouldn't use it to bully someone."
"I know you wouldn't," Flitwick smiled. "But unlike occlumency, teaching you to duel can and will be used to harm others. You are much like your mother, you know? She was a kind soul, Mr. Potter, but incredibly fierce. I only ask that you emulate her. Use your skills and abilities to protect, never to harm."
Harry nodded solemnly. "I understand, professor. I don't want to hurt anyone – not like Quirrell."
Flitwick smiled sadly as Harry turned over his palms. He could almost hear Quirrell's screams. There was a part of him that didn't want to ask Flitwick how to fight. But then he thought about Flitwick being thrown into the cabinet, and Harry having to watch as Quirrell kicked his stunned form.
No, Harry loathed himself for killing Quirrell, but he hated the helplessness more.
He refused to be a burden.
Professor Flitwick agreed to teach Harry in the new school year. He suggested Quidditch practice as a medium to get into better shape. He was overjoyed to hear that Wood made them do all the exercises together – apparently, some teams had the seeker laze off and only focus on speed training. Not his though; Oliver put him through strength and conditioning because 'it's good to be well rounded' and it's 'team bonding'. Harry had cursed his captain for that in the past, but it seemed Oliver's Quidditch mania would have transferable benefits.
Flitwick shooed Harry out of his classroom soon after, encouraging him to spend time with his classmates before the feast instead of 'slumming it out with a squeaky old man'. Flitwick's words, not his.
Harry considered returning to Gryffindor Tower and thrashing Katie at more exploding snap but decided against it when he saw twin shocks of red hair slip into an abandoned classroom. He followed the Weasley twins inside, watching as they brought a strange assortment of items out of pillowcases.
"What're you doing?" Harry leaned against the door. The twins jumped in place and turned around.
"Harry!" Fred exclaimed, shifting a worn piece of parchment out of sight. "What are you doing here?"
"I saw you two sneak in here," Harry said. "Are you planning a prank for the leaving feast?"
The twins glanced at each other nervously. "Not exactly."
Harry's eyes widened. "Are you planning the prank on Alicia?"
The guilty look exchanged between the identical redheads was confirmation enough.
"Can I help?" Harry asked.
"Harry, how much chocolate for you to keep quiet about – wait, what?" George blinked, and Fred looked at him, confused.
"You want to help?"
Harry nodded enthusiastically. "McGonagall told me once that my dad was a prankster when he went here. I wanted to try it for myself – I thought it'd make me feel closer to him. If you don't mind, of course," Harry added shyly.
The twins grinned at each other and threw an arm over his shoulders, not noticing the way he stiffened.
"Well, Harrikins, you know us," Fred said.
"We would never discourage someone embracing their inner prankster," George continued.
"Let us show you our greatest prank yet," Fred led him over to the table and overturned the black bag, spilling out an assortment of treats and a small chunk of gold the size of Harry's fingernail.
"Are you trying to give Alicia a sugar rush?" Harry asked confusedly. "Are you trying to tell her to go on a diet or something?"
Fred tutted. "You doubt our genius, Harrikins."
"Also, never tell a girl to go on a diet, o apprentice of ours," George said gravely. "That takes a level of daring even we don't have."
George emptied two vials into a small goblet, followed by the gold chip. He closed the goblet with a thick parchment and shook it like a bartender. He handed the goblet to Fred, who took a sip.
"Watch this," Fred grinned before touching a slice of chocolate cake. It turned to gold. Harry watched in awe as Fred pulled out his wand and cast a vanishing spell, which made the slice double in size. Fred picked up the gold slice and took a bite, and Harry winced as an audible clang rang through the classroom.
"This should work on everything at the feast," Fred explained. "It's not actual gold, just charmed to look like it. And a hardening charm that will make it feel like the real thing."
"That's brilliant," Harry grinned. "I didn't think you two knew magic like this."
"Did you think we were just pretty faces?" Fred asked, placing a hand over his heart in faux outrage.
"I didn't even give you that much credit," Harry said dryly. The twins cackled.
"Ooh I think we'll get along just fine," Fred ruffled Harry's hair, and he swatted it away on instinct. Suddenly, Harry wondered just what he'd gotten himself into.
"If he's going to be helping us, you should teach him the counter spell," George said from where he was fiddling with a cauldron.
Fred taught Harry the counter spell, and Harry tried it. He was rather proud of himself when the slice of cake turned back to its expected rich brown colour. Harry found it also tasted like cake again. He snacked on the rest of the slice while Fred drank a vial of the counter potion, whooping loudly when he touched a doughnut, and it didn't turn golden.
"We swap the pudding with gold, and whenever someone tries to do anything to it, poof, it becomes bigger," Fred explained with sweeping dramatic gestures.
"And, of course," George said, putting a stopper on a vial. "We find a way to slip this into Alicia's goblet."
He held up the vial containing a transparent liquid with the slightest yellow tint. "This will transform Alicia into Queen Midas."
"Queen what?" Harry asked. Fred and George gave him identical grins.
"You'll see."
The end-of-year feast was a raucous affair. After an exhausting year, Angelina Johnson was glad for the opportunity to spend time with her friends and relax.
She was wrapping up her third year at Hogwarts, which had somehow encompassed the Quidditch Cup, trolls, electives (she still had no idea why she chose to take ancient runes; that class was killing her), and a bloody professor kidnapping her teammate.
Angelina still had no idea what happened between Harry and Quirrell three weeks ago. Officially, McGonagall told the Gryffindors that Harry came down with a bad case of spattergroit and would be quarantined till he recovered. No one believed that for a second.
The Hogwarts rumour mill noticed Quirrell's absence and pounced on the seeming coincidence. When Harry woke up, he'd confirmed it to Alicia and Katie, who told her in turn. Alicia stressed that Harry had been badly affected by the experience, and under no circumstances was anyone to ask him about it. Angelina wasn't planning to ask anyway; she wasn't an idiot.
Then Alicia and Katie mentioned You-Know-Who, which had been a nasty surprise. She tried not to think about it too much though. If it were important, Alicia would've mentioned it.
Especially because she was certain that Alicia was the only student other than Harry who knew exactly what happened between him and Quirrell. Since Harry had woken up, the two of them had been inseparable. Angelina knew she'd joked about Alicia adopting Harry, but it had still surprised her when she saw just how older-sister-like Alicia was becoming.
It was very endearing.
Still, Angelina trusted her best friend to tell her if there was something she could help with.
The Great Hall was decked in blue and bronze when Angelina entered with Alicia and Katie. From winning the Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor gained sixty points and avoided last place in the House Cup standings. Still, it wasn't enough to prevent the nerds that made up Ravenclaw House from answering all the questions in class and winning out.
Angelina was a little disappointed, especially because she knew that if Harry and his friends hadn't lost them one-hundred-fifty points, they would be winning by a landslide. Still, she tried not to hold it against the younger boy (especially because she didn't want to get the same treatment Katie had received from Alicia). That didn't mean she wasn't a little disappointed, though.
The door opened, and Angelina looked up, seeing Harry slip into the hall with Ron and Hermione. A hush fell over the students as the three first-years entered.
"Do I have something on my face?" Ron stage whispered as they approached the Gryffindor table. Harry snickered and Hermione shook her head.
"Yeah, that ugly mug of yours," Harry chirped. Ron shoved the other boy, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Alicia waved the first years over, and they sat down opposite the chasers. The mood was rather glum at the Gryffindor table, and the students nearest to them turned away when Harry and Hermione sat down. Katie patted Harry's arm. "Ignore them."
Harry smiled gratefully, and Alicia beamed at the two.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and silence fell over the hall as the students looked at him.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts."
"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; in third, Gryffindor, with three hundred and seventy-two points; Slytherin, four hundred and twelve and Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty. Congratulations, Ravenclaw!"
It was kind of underwhelming the cheers that came from the Ravenclaw table. The students were never what could be called a raucous bunch, but the table was more withdrawn than even Angelina had expected. Dumbledore and the professors clapped, and the other houses joined in, albeit reluctantly.
Angelina saw Harry look at Draco Malfoy, who grinned smugly back at him. The blonde held up three fingers and pointed at Harry before pointing at himself while holding two fingers. The message rang loud and clear, and Harry scowled. The dull mood only lasted until food appeared on the tables, and Gryffindor table was in high spirits again as everyone ate and chatted away.
She chewed on a roast potato as she watched her friends around her. She'd always been rather loud and extroverted, but she enjoyed watching as much as she did participating. She watched with amusement as Hermione scolded Ron – again – for chewing with his mouth open. Harry watched distastefully before turning to her. The two exchanged a grin when Ron, who was somehow chewing and arguing simultaneously, swallowed some beans down the wrong pipe and began to choke. Angelina reached over and gave him a firm smack on the back, and the beans dislodged in his throat. She watched in a mixture of awe and disgust as the boy gave her a bashful grin and continued eating with even more fervour. Angelina wasn't exactly a light eater – her muscles didn't grow themselves, you know? – but the… prowess of the first year was astounding, to say the least.
Still watching Ron, Angelina reached for her goblet. She picked up the glass just as different puddings and other sweet treats replaced the dishes of roast meats and veg, gravies, and pies.
She reached over and grabbed a slice of key lime pie, not noticing Harry and the twins' panicked looks around her. She took a large swig of her pumpkin juice, only to be disappointed by the taste of water. That was when she realised she'd accidentally picked up Alicia's goblet.
"Oops," she said, reaching for her goblet instead. She still wasn't looking at her drink and didn't realise anything was wrong until she tipped it back, and a solid chunk of gold hit her in the nose.
She swore, rubbing her nose. She looked at the goblet, still in her hand, only to find it was now made of solid gold.
Alicia's spoon was halfway to her mouth as she stared at Angelina with a rapidly purpling face. She broke down into laughter, tears streaming down her face.
"What?" Angelina asked, confused. "What are you laughing at?"
A girl a couple of seats down handed Angelina a mirror and as she outstretched her arm to accept it, she realised her hands were also golden! And the sleeves of her robes were missing!
She grabbed the mirror hastily and looked at her reflection. Much like her hands, her face was a shiny gold, as was the rest of her. Instead of her school robes, she wore the most hideous dress she'd ever seen. It looked like something she'd seen in a book about ancient Greek wizards, except it too was made of gold.
Worse yet, she had a beard.
She touched her plate, and the soft, creamy key lime pie turned into hard, solid gold.
She laughed loudly, turning Alicia's ice cream and Harry's treacle tart into solid gold. They glared at her, and she smirked.
Taking a not-so-large leap in logic, she glared at the usual culprits. "As funny as this is, you two are dead, by the way."
Sitting halfway down the table, The Weasley twins were trying to look innocuous.
"In our defence," Fred put his hands up in surrender.
"That wasn't meant for you." George finished. They looked at Alicia in tandem, and the laughter vanished off her face.
"You were trying to do that to me?" Alicia gawked.
"Maybe that wasn't the best thing to say," Harry said sagely.
"Oh yeah, why don't you tell us what is, oh apprentice of ours?"
Harry blanched.
"Traitors…" he mumbled. Alicia's glare turned on him.
"You helped them?" She hissed. He grinned weakly.
"Surprise?"
"May I ask exactly what surprise you're referring to, Potter?" Professor McGonagall stood behind him with her lips pressed thin.
"Professor! Hello!" Harry squeaked, trying to look innocent. "What brings you here?"
"Imagine my surprise when I looked over at the Gryffindor table, only to see Ms. Johnson dressed like a golden statue," McGonagall's mouth was pressed so thin Angelina almost couldn't see it. "My first thought was to ask the two baboons over there –"
She gestured to the twins, who tried to look offended.
"But then I saw you looking particularly guilty, and I happen to remember the menace that was your father and his friends. So, I must ask again, what surprise are we referring to here?"
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Professor," Harry said brightly. McGonagall's eyes narrowed, but she turned to look at the rest of the table. She glanced at the chasers, who met her gaze pleasantly. Angelina was many things. Amused and somewhat embarrassed? Yes. A tattletale? No. Alicia seemed to feel the same, and Katie was still doubled over in laughter. Every time the girl would calm down, she'd take a cursory glance at Angelina and break into another fit of giggles.
Next to Harry, Ron and Hermione sat quietly. Ron looked very amused, and Hermione's gaze was rife with disapproval. Still, when McGonagall's gaze crossed her, the bushy-haired first year remained silent.
McGonagall turned to the twins, who weren't afforded the same privilege as Harry. It had taken only one glance from the stern professor to declare them guilty. After yelling at the twins and promising much retribution the following year, the professor returned to the staff table.
All that was left of the prank was Angelina and her gold skin and horrible, golden outfit. She tried to revert the stupid spell but gave up after the third try. She didn't even bother asking the twins – getting them to undo a prank prematurely was impossible. Flitwick stood up, about to come over and look over her conundrum but stopped in surprise. She looked down to see that she was wearing her uniform again.
Angelina reached out and stuck her finger in Alicia's new bowl of ice cream, ignoring her cry of protest. Nothing happened. She noticed Harry's wand slip back into his robes out of the corner of her eye. She looked at him, surprised.
"You weren't the intended target," he shrugged. "Plus, you didn't tell on me. I suppose I owe you for that?"
"So, you're telling me you wouldn't have done that for me?" Alicia snipped.
"Nope," Harry said, popping the 'p'. Alicia mumbled under her breath about traitors. Harry grinned wide. "Consider it payback for the 'Green Lightning business.'"
Katie, who'd stopped laughing when Angelina was turned back, dissolved into another fit of giggles. Harry glared at her, though there was no heat behind the gaze.
"Speaking of payback," Alicia looked at Angelina with a feral grin. "Angie, remember the clause on the immunity list for if the twins prank you?"
Angelina matched her best friend's expression as the colour drained from the twins' faces. "Of course, I do. When should we enact the… consequences?"
"Well, if we do it now, we won't really get to see the fruits of our labour," Alicia tapped her chin. "I say we wait till September."
Harry, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes, spoke. "Wait, if we're counting this as a prank on Angelina, then that means the twins are still allowed to prank you, 'Licia."
Alicia grimaced. "On second thought…"
"Hell no," Angelina said. "No way you're getting off scot-free off my suffering. Plus, I want revenge."
"But Angie…"
Angelina glared at her best friend, who pouted at her. The twins looked conflicted between excitement at the second opportunity to prank Alicia, and terror at the prospect of Angelina's revenge.
Harry just watched, snickering. He was delighted to let the twins take the brunt of the girls' ire, but that wasn't to be. Angelina turned to Harry and smirked, and his laughter stopped immediately.
"Don't think I've forgotten about you, speccy."
"I'm just a victim, Angelina," Harry batted his eyelashes at her innocently. "The twins coerced me, you know?"
"Bullshit."
"Worth a try," Harry shrugged, eliciting a snort from her. He grinned in response.
The rest of the feast passed enjoyably, with Angelina and Alicia loudly and unsubtly plotting revenge against the twins and Harry, who offered unhelpful suggestions.
Harry woke early the next morning. His stomach rolled at the thought of the school year coming to an end and returning to Little Whinging. He forced the thoughts out of his head, retreating into the Nothing. He relished in the serenity of the darkness before it was replaced by the glowing orbs of light that were his memories.
He parsed through them, one by one, as had become habit. The first memory he saw was that of the last Quidditch game. He watched himself catch the snitch, aided by his friends. Bludgers and players dressed in scarlet rocketed past his vision as he claimed the tiny, winged ball.
The next memory was earlier, from the Hospital wing. The door slid open, and Oliver entered, followed closely by Angelina.
"How've you been, speccy?" Angelina asked, plopping herself onto the visitor chair at his side. She kicked her feet up on the edge of his bed. Oliver rolled his eyes and sat on the floor, leaning against the neighbouring bed.
Harry shrugged. "Mostly better now; feeling more bored than anything, y'know?"
Oliver snorted. "Tell me about it, why Pomfrey thinks you're not well enough to play Quidditch, I don't know."
He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting the short-tempered nurse to stab him with a syringe from behind. Angelina swatted his shoulder half-heartedly.
"There are more important things than Quidditch, Oliver," Angelina droned. "Harry's health is more important.
Then she grinned and winked at Harry. "At least that's what Alicia told me to say."
Harry snickered. "I wish I could fly around a little. I've been doing nothing but homework all day."
Angelina tossed him something, and Harry caught it on instinct. It was the snitch she got him for Christmas. "I asked one of your roommates to get it for me. Figured you'd want something to do in here."
"Thanks, Angelina, this is brilliant."
They shared a grin.
"Catch!" Oliver tossed something at Harry, and he tried to catch it with one hand. It was bigger than he expected and ended up hitting him in the face.
"Ow," Harry rubbed his nose as Oliver snickered and Angelina elbowed the older boy in the ribs, eliciting a pained yelp.
Harry picked the quaffle off his lap and looked at Oliver, confused.
"Gotta keep your skills sharp," he smirked, gesturing at Harry to throw it back. Harry reared his arm back towards Oliver, then switched targets at the last minute toward Angelina. The chaser yelped as the ball flew towards her, only to laugh as it fell short.
"No wonder you aren't a chaser," Angelina snickered, picking up the ball, and no-look passed it to Oliver, who caught it deftly. The three Gryffindor messed around for a little longer until Madam Pomfrey caught them and kicked the two visitors out.
Harry filed the memory away, watching it float and join some of the other happy memories, fizzling beams of light linking it to the others of its kind. Another memory took its place, and once again, Harry found himself in the Hospital wing, this time with Alicia, Angelina, and Katie.
Memory-Harry watched with a smile as the chasers babbled on about the latest rumour.
"And so, the entire school thinks that Snape slipped poison into your drink and then tried to save you because he felt bad," Angelina said.
"Don't forget why he saved Harry," Katie piped up. Alicia snickered.
"As the rumour mill says it," Alicia waved her hands and spoke in an exaggeratedly spooky voice best suited for a campfire. It didn't have the same effect in the well-lit Hospital wing. "Snape was in love with your mum when he was a kid -"
"WHAT?" Harry looked genuinely nauseous, and Alicia doubled over in laughter. She resurfaced after a minute, wiping tears off her face.
"And - and he hates you because she rejected him for your pops," Alicia finished, grinning.
"I'm going to throw up," said Harry, who'd turned a shade of green he didn't know was humanly possible.
"You should've seen his face when McLaggen, the bloody idiot, asked him in potions the other day," Katie said hesitantly. She seemed to gain confidence when Harry looked at her, something he'd largely avoided doing lately.
"Snape turned so pale; I thought he would kill McLaggen. He got detention so fast," she grinned weakly at him, smiling wider when he laughed.
"That is disgusting," Harry wrinkled his nose. "But if he's supposed to hate me, why'd he try to save me?"
"Apparently, he realised he couldn't live with himself if he let you die just like your mum," Alicia grimaced. "Though I don't know if Snape is capable of such a thing as remorse."
Harry snorted. "Fat chance."
With that, the memory ended, and the Hospital Wing rippled into the Nothing. The final memory Harry sorted through was the first morning after he woke up. He watched as he recoiled from Alicia and Katie. He felt a warmth grow in his chest as he watched Alicia hold his hand and hug him. He stamped it down hurriedly, lest he be evicted from the Nothing. He watched the two chasers reassure him, and Alicia hold him as he cried. The warmth grew in his chest.
"It wasn't your fault," said Alicia in the memory.
Harry's eyes shot open to the roof of his four-poster bed. The warmth in his chest dissipated as he breathed, leaving only the most curious, unfamiliar sensation. Contentment.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so cared for. So wanted.
His attempts to return to the Nothing were futile. He was too emotionally charged at that moment. He closed his eyes and tried to return to bed. His mind didn't drift to sleep, but his thoughts inevitably returned to his impending return to the muggle world.
Once again, his thoughts settled on the Dursleys. How would they react to his return? After all, the last time he'd seen them they'd evacuated Number 4 Privet Drive because of the sheer number of letters Hogwarts had sent them.
Harry winced as he imagined the Dursleys' displeasure that they were bound to take out on him.
The Dursleys never abused Harry.
They starved him, locked him in his cupboard without any sunlight for days at a time, forced him to cook and clean and do every other chore (sometimes he wasn't even allowed to eat the meal he'd prepared), and berated and disparaged him every chance they got. Thankfully, they never beat him beyond the odd smack whenever he talked back.
But they never abused him.
Because those who were abused were undeserving victims. As the Dursleys were so fond of reminding him, Harry deserved everything he got.
They only starved him when he burnt their meals; only locked him away when he embarrassed them in front of others; only berated and called him a waste of space whenever he had the gall to 'cheat' and do better than precious Dudley on a test.
They only mistreated him when he messed up. It was a punishment. A teaching moment. Not abuse.
At least that was what they told him.
Most importantly, it was always his fault. His parents' death, his being left on the Dursleys' doorstep, and every fickle little misfortune in the Dursleys' lives. Somehow, it was always his fault.
At some point, he began to believe them.
Everything he touched turned to stone. Everyone he cared about would leave. Why wouldn't they, when they realised what he was?
When they realised he was a freak.
That was one of Uncle Vernon's favourite names to call Harry.
Until he'd begun going to primary school, that moniker, and 'boy' from Aunt Petunia, were the only names he'd ever known.
The first time he'd ever been called Harry was on his first day of primary school when the teacher called his name for attendance. He hadn't responded to the roll call and was called to the principal's office. He'd gotten a week of cupboard time for that embarrassment.
The shadow of the Dursleys followed him around Little Whinging. Whether that was Dudley scaring off every child who dared befriend Harry or his aunt spreading rumours about her disturbed young nephew whom she was so kind and selfless for taking in. When he got the chance to leave it all behind, he didn't think twice before taking it.
At Hogwarts, he thought things would be different. And they were, for the most part. The Dursleys had blamed his latent magic for every bad thing to ever happen to them, but surely his fellow wizards, with magic of their own, would be different. Right?
After the Astronomy Tower incident, he'd been terrified he was wrong. After his housemates turned on him and even Katie stopped talking to him, Harry thought that the Dursleys really were right. Maybe everything he touched was bound for ruin. Maybe it was his fault after all. But people had stuck with him. Ron, Hermione, Oliver, Angelina, the Twins. Alicia.
When Katie abandoned him, Harry didn't blame her. He never blamed her. He was aloof with her to protect himself, but in his mind, it was his fault. It was always his fault. Then, after the Quirrell business, Alicia said something that had turned his world upside down. Something that, in eleven years of misery, he'd never heard before.
She told him it wasn't his fault.
It happened so fast that he hadn't taken it for what it meant. That night, when he was sorting through the memories, it truly hit him. Watching her and Katie come in and see him. The plain, unabashed relief on their faces. Alicia's complete faith that he wouldn't hurt her. Much like earlier that morning, Harry couldn't fully process that memory. The warmth in his chest had kicked him out that time, too. He wondered if he'd ever be able to rewatch that memory without being kicked out of the Nothing. He hoped not.
At times he couldn't believe that, despite being but a burden to his relatives, there were people out there who cared for him. He took solace in the memories from the hospital wing. He took solace in the enormous slice of treacle tart that Ron had brought him from dinner, and all the time Hermione took out of her day to come and help him catch up on schoolwork.
He drew strength from the team. Their regular visits – tossing the Quaffle around with Oliver and swapping stories with the chasers – were reminders that the Dursleys had been wrong.
It only got better when he left the Hospital wing. For the first time, Harry had more friends than he knew what to do with. Those last few days between the Quidditch final and the end-of-the-year feast were the best of his life, despite still being a pariah to the rest of his house. He was happy, healthy, safe, and with his friends. He'd forgotten it had to end until he was lying in bed after the feast.
Harry got up and dressed, trying to ignore the feeling of impending doom in his gut. Ron was still fast asleep, and a glance at Neville's clock showed it was still far too early for the other boy to be awake. Heading down to the common room showed that Hermione too was still asleep. A glance out the window showed Hagrid in front of his hut, tending to his roosters.
Harry decided to visit his first friend who had introduced him to this incredible world. A world that he could still hardly believe he was a part of.
A few minutes later, Harry waved to Hagrid, who waved back enthusiastically. "Harry! it's good ter see yeh, how've yeh bin?"
"All right, Hagrid," Harry beamed. "You?"
"Good, good," Hagrid sobered, and his dark eyes glinted with concern. "Feelin' alrigh' after all tha' Quirrell business? Blimey, when I heard yeh was in the hospital wing, I was worried sick."
"I'm doing better, Hagrid. Sorry, I worried you," Harry shrugged. He really didn't want to talk about Quirrell right now. "D'you need help with that?"
He gestured to the bag of Rooster feed in Hagrid's hands. Hagrid appraised him speculatively.
"Not really, but yeh can help if yeh wan'. 'Ere," Hagrid tossed a second bag to Harry, who caught it deftly.
The giant of a man and the tiny first year tossed food to the roosters in silence. Hagrid made an unsettling noise. "Summat eating at yeh, Harry?"
Harry frowned. It was a little embarrassing.
"Don't wan' ter go home?" Hagrid smiled knowingly at Harry, who flushed.
"How'd you know?"
"I've met your relatives, 'member? Ruddy vile, the lot of 'em," Hagrid shook his head sadly. "'S alrigh'. Summer will be gone like that, y'know? jus gotta tough it out for a little while an' 'fore yeh know it, you'll be back on the express."
The large man patted Harry on the back with hands the size of dustbin lids. Harry nearly buckled under the force.
"I guess I'll just miss Hogwarts," Harry tossed a handful of seeds at a cluster of roosters on the far left of the pen. He watched them scramble after the feed, shoving each other out of the way in pursuit of the food, despite the abundance in his hands. "After having magic and friends and everything, I just don't want to go back."
"Hogwarts will always be yer home, Harry. You'll be back 'ere quick," Hagrid said gently. "'Sides, yeh can always write yer friends, yeh know? Bes' believe they'll wan' ter hear from yeh. So will I."
"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry smiled weakly. "I'll make sure to write."
"Yeh better," Hagrid wagged his finger, which would've been threatening if not for the broad grin on his face.
Harry's smile was a bit stronger.
"Also, 'fore I forget," Hagrid ambled into his cabin, coming out with a leather-bound book. "I wrote a couple of yer parents' school friends. Asked 'em for old pictures and the like."
He handed Harry the book nervously. "Couple of 'em wrote back, so I put 'em together for yeh."
Harry accepted the book with shaking hands, holding it as if it were something sacred – which to him, it was.
He flipped it open and had to bite back a sob at the sight that greeted him. Carefully stuck to the first page was a picture of James and Lily Potter. They stood in the middle of a courtyard that Harry didn't recognise, dancing to some music he couldn't hear. His father looked exactly as he had in the Mirror of Erised, with the same thin face, sharp nose and wild, black hair that Harry also inherited.
He smiled at Harry, holding his wife, Harry's mum, in his arms as they swayed slowly to a silent rhythm. Lily looked almost exactly like what he'd seen in the mirror. The vibrant red hair and the striking green eyes that Harry also shared. She looked a little different than when he saw her at the Palace of Light – her cheekbones were a little softer, and her stance was a little springier – but that could be chalked up to age. She smiled and waved at Harry, who bit his tongue hard to hold in the flooding emotion.
He had no words to say, but Hagrid seemed to understand.
Harry said his goodbyes soon after, heading back to the castle for breakfast. Breakfast was a hasty affair. Most of the students in the hall grabbed a sandwich before returning to their dorms to finish packing. Ron grabbed two slices of toast, spread jam on one of them, and sprinted back up the stairs.
Harry was one of the few who had packed the night before, so he spent the last few hours in the castle in the common room with Hermione, Parvati Patil, and Dean Thomas. Parvati, Hermione, and Dean were exchanging stories about summer plans. Parvati was telling them about the annual vacation her family took to India to visit their cousins.
"This time, Masi said she'd take me to the market and get me a new shalwar kameez," Parvati gushed.
"That's a type of dress." The girl added, noticing the looks of confusion.
The boys exchanged looks of exasperation while Hermione excitedly asked about the dress, which Parvati looked ecstatic to talk about.
"What about you, Harry?" Dean asked. "Doing anything fun, mate?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "No… just staying inside. My aunt and uncle don't really take me outside much."
Dean shrugged and looked away, and Harry let out a breath of relief. He didn't notice Hermione's inquisitive look as he glanced up at the clock above the mantle.
Soon after, the students were packed and boarding the Hogwarts Express, which would take them back to London. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found a compartment together. They found Neville searching for a place to sit, and Harry convinced the pudgy boy to join them. Harry still felt a little guilty over causing Neville to lose all those points. While Gryffindor was quick to forget his and Hermione's transgressions in favour of mocking Harry, the first few days had still been rough for him.
"All right there, Nev?" Harry asked as the boys shoved their trunks overhead. Hermione thanked Harry and Ron for stowing hers on her behalf.
"Not too bad, Harry," Neville shrugged meekly. "At least exams are over, right? That's a good thing, surely."
Ron snorted. "I'd agree with you, but I don't think Hermione will. If she could, I think she'd take the exams again for fun."
Hermione swatted Ron on the arm.
"No, I wouldn't," she said indignantly. Ron looked at her dubiously, and Harry only smirked when she turned to him for support. "Fine, I would, but only because I might be able to get better marks."
Ron snickered, and Harry failed to suppress a grin. Neville smiled hesitantly, and even Hermione had a bashful smile as silence settled over the cabin. Hermione had her nose in a book, and Ron and Neville were chatting away over a league Quidditch game that Harry knew nothing about. He pretended to listen, watching the Scottish Highlands fly past them.
He wished he could force the train to slow down. London seemed to be nearing faster than he'd like.
"You'll both write, won't you?" Hermione looked at Harry and Ron nervously.
Harry nodded emphatically, and Ron mimicked him, albeit at a more sedate pace.
"Definitely," said Harry. "How will you write, though, without an owl?"
"Muggle mail, perhaps?" Hermione frowned. "What's your relatives' address?"
Harry wrote it down on a piece of parchment, and Hermione tucked it into her pocket.
"My family owl, Errol; I'll get him to come see you first so you can give him Harry's letters," Ron added. Hermione beamed at him.
The sweets trolley passed them, and Harry jumped at the last opportunity to have wizarding candy, quite literally jumping out of his seat and sliding open the cabin door.
Harry purchased a handful of chocolate frogs for himself and Ron, a large slab of chocolate for Hermione, and picked out a handful of cauldron cakes after deciding they seemed Neville's type. He then threw a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum on top for good measure.
"My, that's quite the selection," Harry heard behind him as he was counting out the coins.
"Oh, hi Alicia," Harry said, turning around after exchanging the money for the bag of sweets.
She leaned against the compartment, dressed in muggle clothes (jeans and a lavender sweater) and her red bandanna. The broomstick pin glinted in the fluorescent lighting.
"You buying sweets for an entire army?" She raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the bag in his hands.
Harry grinned. "No, just Ron."
"Same thing," Alicia snickered. "By the way, you should stop by our cabin later. Katie and Angie are in there, and they're very cross you didn't say goodbye. So am I, for that matter."
She crossed her arms and glared at him menacingly, though her eyes danced with mirth.
"Sorry, I'll stop by later," Harry promised.
Alicia pointed down the way Harry came. "We're down that way, two carriages down."
Harry nodded before returning to his friends.
"I come bearing gifts!" He announced dramatically, dropping the bag right onto Ron's lap. "Actually, no give that back you'll eat everything."
He gave the bag to Neville. "Here Nev, you're the only one I can trust."
"What about me?" Hermione asked indignantly as Harry sat down next to her.
"You wouldn't let anyone eat anything," Ron said.
"Your teeth will rot if you eat all that sugar," Harry teased in a high-pitched voice.
"I do not sound like that," Hermione said, outraged.
"Yes, you do," Harry laughed.
"Do not," Hermione insisted.
"Do too."
Hermione made to jokingly whack Harry with her book.
Harry flinched hard, backing himself against the wall with his arms over his head.
Hermione froze with the book raised. She lowered it to her lap and watched Harry with horror. He lowered his arms awkwardly and looked at Ron and Neville, who were looking at him with equal parts confusion and concern.
He cleared his throat awkwardly. He took the slab of chocolate from his bag and gave it to Hermione.
"Got you this," he said without meeting her gaze. "Thanks for the notes."
"You're welcome, Harry. Thanks for the chocolate, it's my favourite," she said distractedly. She gave him a calculating look.
"There's chocolate frogs in there for you, Ron. Neville, I didn't know what you liked, so I got you some cauldron cakes," Harry said dully. "I'm going to use the loo; be right back."
The door slid shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway.
He cursed himself as he leaned against the wall. When Hermione raised the book, his reaction had been pure instinct. For a moment, he'd been back in the kitchen of Number 4 Privet Drive, cowering on the floor as Aunt Petunia threw a skillet at his head.
He reminded himself this wasn't Petunia. This was Hermione.
He knew she wouldn't hurt him. She was his friend—one of the very best.
Did you see her face? Whispered that traitorous voice in his ear. Things had been going so well lately that he hadn't heard it in a while. She might not have intended to hurt you, but you certainly hurt her. Some friend you are.
Harry gritted his teeth and forced his feet to move. He walked down the train aimlessly. He just needed to get away. He knew Hermione. The moment he returned to their compartment, he'd be interrogated until he gave her a satisfactory answer. And Harry knew nothing but the truth would satisfy her.
"Harry!" Katie's head peeked out of a compartment and waved to him. "Where are you going?"
"Just walking," Harry said blandly. Katie frowned, and the traitorous voice laughed in his head.
Add another to the tally, Potter.
"Want to sit with me, Angie, and 'Licia for a bit?" She asked hesitantly. Harry nodded and followed her into the compartment.
"Hey, Speccy," Angelina grinned at him. He waved back, rolling his eyes as the ghost of a smile appeared on his face.
"You all right, Harry?" Alicia looked at him concernedly. Harry nodded but Alicia didn't look convinced. He shook his head imperceptibly, and she relented, though she watched him with narrowed eyes.
He dropped into the seat opposite Alicia and Angelina, next to Katie. He turned to the youngest girl, who also looked at him oddly.
"Exploding Snap?" He asked, and a cocky grin appeared on her face.
"D'you even have to ask?" Katie smirked. "This is my turn to win; I can feel it."
Harry laughed and felt some of his tension dissipate with the sound. "Keep dreaming, Bell."
Exploding snap went as expected. He won – a lot. Katie won once, though she chewed him out thoroughly when she realised he let her win.
After growing tired of the card game, the quartet spoke of summer plans. Much like the conversation with his fellow first years, Harry stayed silent. He listened, pushing out the creeping envy as Angelina described the Quidditch match her parents were taking her and her little brothers. Katie said she would probably just sleep in and spend time with her dad.
From the way she spoke of her dad, Harry could tell they were close. He wondered if, in another life, he would've been bragging about his father to someone else.
An ugly feeling unfurled in his chest that corroded away at Harry's good mood.
If the girls noticed Harry's silence, they didn't mention it.
Katie made the rest of the compartment promise to write, though Harry didn't need much convincing. The other girls had to be badgered into it, though Harry thought they were just being contrary for the sake of it. Still, it filled him with hope. Maybe the summer wouldn't be so bad after all.
Returning to his compartment nearly two hours later, Harry found Neville and Ron in an intense negotiation for chocolate frog cards.
"I'll trade you two Morganas if you throw a Baruffio on top," Ron offered. Nevile snorted.
"No chance, mate. My Antioch Peverell has gold foil. That's worth so much more than two Morganas, even without Baruffio."
Hermione was curled up in the corner Harry had vacated, reading the book on famous Muggleborns he got her for Christmas. She looked up when he entered.
"Did you lot leave me anything?" Harry asked as he sat down next to her.
"Ron ate most of it; I saved you a chocolate frog though," Hermione pulled one out of her pocket, and he took it from her graciously.
"Thanks," he said, already tearing open the wrapper. She looked at him oddly, and Harry chewed on the smooth chocolate, trying to ignore the ball of lead in his stomach.
"Harry, are you okay?" She asked softly. Harry stiffened.
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He said lightly, giving her a strained smile. "I'm all right, Hermione. Ignore what happened earlier – It was nothing."
She didn't look convinced but let the topic lie. She tossed him a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.
"This was all I managed to save from those two," she jerked her head at the other two boys who were engrossed in their conversation. "I remembered you liked them."
"Thanks, 'Mione, you're a lifesaver," he stowed it in his pocket. The last bits of tension seemed to break, and the two friends slipped into easy conversation. Easy for Hermione at least – as much as Harry wanted to do well on exams, he didn't think talking about them on his first day of break was ideal conversation.
Before long, the train pulled to a stop, and Harry felt the familiar weight settle in his chest. He dragged his feet as he followed Ron, Hermione, and Neville off the train. His friends were positively shaking with the anticipation of seeing their families. Harry only felt dread.
How he wished to be back at Hogwarts.
They ran into the chasers on the platform. Alicia walked up to him from behind and ruffled his hair. He glared at her, but she only returned an unrepentant grin.
"Our families will be waiting by the floo, I reckon," she said. Harry wondered what a floo was. "Just thought I'd come over and say goodbye."
"D'you think your relatives will let you come over for pickup Quidditch?" Katie asked. Harry shook his head. She frowned. "Drat. I'll see you in September, then. You better write, Green Lightning."
"Only if you stop calling me that, Katie-kat," Harry grinned.
"I hate you," Katie grumbled, still smiling.
"No, you don't," Harry said dutifully.
"You sure about that?" she shot back before turning and leaving. Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Alicia and Angelina, who were watching the exchange with amusement.
"Have a good summer, you two," Harry smiled despite the churning in his gut. Angelina waved, and Alicia pulled Harry into a hug.
"You'll write, won't you?" Harry mumbled into her shoulder as he returned her embrace.
"You sound like Katie," she smirked at him. "Of course, I will. At least twice a week."
Harry nodded, and his inner turmoil must've shown on his face because she looked at him curiously.
"Harry, are you sure everything's okay?" She asked.
He nodded and swallowed thickly. He gave her the strongest smile he could muster. "Yeah, everything's fine. I'll see you in September?"
"See you in September," she said, giving him one last worried look before heading in the same direction as the other chasers.
Harry turned back to Hermione and Ron, who told him Neville's grandmother whisked him away already. The trio headed for the muggle exit, where they found the Weasleys waiting. The twins and Percy had already joined their family and waited impatiently for Ron.
"Well, if it isn't our newest accomplice," Fred said, slinging an arm over Harry's shoulder.
"It's nice to see you, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley patted his hand. She turned and glared at the twins. "And you two, you better not have roped him into any of your harebrained schemes."
"Mother, you wound us," George said dramatically, ruffling Harry's hair and earning a swat from the younger boy.
"We don't rope anyone into anything," Fred said seriously.
"Harry volunteered!" George finished cheerily.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head, exasperated. She made her boys say their goodbyes before turning off around a corner. It was just Harry and Hermione, and the latter caught sight of her mum.
Hermione squealed as she ran off to hug her mother. Looking at the older woman, Harry imagined he could predict what Hermione would look like in twenty-odd years. The two Grangers shared the same bushy hair and the same intelligence behind their brown eyes.
"Your father is keeping an eye on the clinic, but he says he's sorry he couldn't come get you himself," Mrs. Granger winked. "We had a bet, and I won. He said he'll get Indian for dinner tonight to celebrate."
"Awesome," Hermione grinned before remembering Harry's existence. "Oh, mum, this is Harry. Harry, this is my mum."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Harry said politely, shaking the older woman's hand.
"None of that, love," Mrs. Granger laughed. "Mrs. Granger is fine."
Harry nodded hesitantly.
"Now, where are your parents? Running late?" She asked kindly, and Hermione blanched. She angrily whispered something into her mother's ear, and the older woman winced. "Sorry, Hermione mentioned… I forgot. I really am sorry."
"It's all right. I'm used to it," Harry shrugged. While there was a slight pang at the mention of his dead parents, he was more surprised at the sight of an adult being not only chastised by their child but also sincerely apologising to him because of it. He'd heard Aunt Petunia apologise to Dudley before, but he'd always felt she was placating him rather than being sincere.
Speak of the devil. He caught a glimpse (not like it was difficult) of his relatives, entering from the parking lot that Mrs. Granger had come from.
Uncle Vernon stood at the entrance, staring suspiciously at every passerby, expecting them to turn around and turn him into a pig. Next to the unpleasant, rotund man stood Aunt Petunia, who peered down at her surroundings with the distinct expression of someone smelling manure. Dudley, the fat lard, just looked bored out of his mind.
All three Dursleys caught sight of Harry, but before he could slip away from the Grangers, Hermione saw them glaring at him.
"Are those your relatives?"
Harry winced but nodded. She frowned. Still, he made his way over to them, dejectedly noticing the Grangers walking in the same direction.
Aunt Petunia greeted him stiffly, and Uncle Vernon glared suspiciously at Mrs. Granger. Hermione's mother looked a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Still, her English politeness won over.
"Olivia Granger," the woman said mechanically, extending her hand to Vernon. "Pleasure."
Her tone, oddly reminiscent of Hermione's when she'd first met Ron, suggested it was anything but. Vernon didn't reciprocate the gesture, staring distastefully at her hand. Instead, he said, "You dress rather normal for one of his kind."
He nodded vehemently in Harry's direction. He winced, watching the two adults stare each other down with trepidation. Hermione watched the exchange with unconcealed shock.
"I'm not magical if that's what you mean. I'm a dentist," Mrs. Granger hissed. "My daughter Hermione is, and so is your – nephew?"
She looked at Harry for confirmation, who nodded reluctantly. "So is your nephew, yes? He seems quite nice."
"He's a freak that's what he is," Uncle Vernon nearly yelled, spittle flying out of his rapidly purpling face. Harry flinched, and Mrs. Granger's jaw clenched at the sight.
"Excuse me?"
"Vernon, we must be leaving," Aunt Petunia simpered, steering her husband away from the other woman before the situation devolved further. "Dudders will be late for that program he wanted to watch. It was a pleasure to meet you, Olivia."
Aunt Petunia nodded stiffly at Mrs. Granger, and Harry got the distinct impression that neither party felt that way. Petunia steered her family (and Harry) away from the Grangers, piling them into the car.
To Harry's surprise, Petunia made Vernon help him pile his trunk into the boot. He sat pressed up against the window, trying his hardest to ignore the other three people in the car. If he closed his eyes and retreated into the Nothing, he could almost imagine he was back at Hogwarts in the Gryffindor common room, joking around with Ron, Hermione, Alicia, and Katie. He could almost hear their laughter.
But he didn't dare escape. Trying to escape never helped in the past, and he doubted that would change.
Harry was going back to the Dursleys, and nothing could change that. Save for Hedwig, he was completely, totally alone.
Well, not really.
His friends promised to write.
If nothing else, he would trust them. He would trust Ron and Hermione, Alicia and Katie. He would trust those who stayed.
With low spirits and high hopes, Harry closed his eyes against the cool window of the Dursleys' car and began counting down the days till the first of September.
A/N: And thus ends Harry's first year. We have I believe one more chapter coming before the New Year, but I have a lot of cool stuff planned for the days between Christmas and the New Year. They're all original stories and one shots, so I recommend checking out my profile (maybe follow wink wink) if you're interested in more of my writing
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!