Chapter 21, everybody! Got a good head of steam going on this, so we'll be having updates for the next couple of weeks (all right!).

Real talk, the beginning of the chapter with Dumbledore is based heavily on Saphroneth's work—go check out Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay if you haven't already. It's amazing what happens when you inject some common sense into the series….Also, as I've learned, a jammy dodger is a jam-filled cookie—it's also the name of a boat on Flushed Away. :D

And Myrtle's last name is Warrenwhy did I think it was Edmunds?...

And again, these chapters are me processing all the political BS flying around this year…2020 has been a trip, hasn't it?

TroyWeb, thanks for the review! HP D&D—I want in. :D Dangit, Donald!

FaolenBookWolf, thanks for the review! Me too….

Thanks for the review, guest! Thank you, I'm glad you like it! :D

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

Harry spent the entirety of his time not in class under his invisibility cloak after that.

Despite it being obvious he couldn't have done it, since everyone had seen him at dinner when it happened, there was still a heavily vocal group who circulated that it made sense that Justin got attacked, and Ernie had been singled out by Harry in the library, and Harry just had a legitimately awful time after that—to the point that when he was called into the headmaster's office, he figured it was to get expelled.

Dumbledore's bird catching on fire really cemented that feeling.

"Ah, Harry—"

"Professor!" Harry blurted, panicking at the sight of Dumbledore coming down the steps. "I didn't—I couldn't—he just—caught fire—"

"Yes, about time too, he's been looking dreadful for days—ah," he noised, seeing Harry's confusion. "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry—come here, have a look—see?" he asked, indicating the wrinkly little head poking out of the ashes. "Marvelous creatures, phoenixes—their tears have healing powers, they can lift burdens vastly greater than they weigh, and when they die they burst into flame and are reborn from the ashes. Incidentally, you should come back a few days later—phoenixes grow up quickly, but for about three or four days he's rather adorable with his fluff. Alas, this is not the reason I summoned you here."

Harry's heart sunk at that. "Please, professor, don't expel me—I didn't attack anyone—I'm not the heir!"

"My dear boy," Dumbledore said, handing him a cup of tea. "I have a list of suspects as to this Heir of Slytherin business, and it might disappoint you to know that you did not make the list. No, I called you up here because it's come to my attention that—out of all of us—this unfortunate year has been weighing on you quite heavily." He indicated a seat for Harry, took one of his own. "I understand that Muggle schools employ counseling when their students get stressed, and I was wondering if this would work as well for Hogwarts. You just happened to get one of the first slots, although I must apologize for experimenting on you—this is new for me as well."

"Sir?" Harry noised, a little confused.

"Our lovely Muggle Studies professor was nice enough to write down what to do, although the main point she told me to focus on was to create a safe, calming space." At that, Dumbledore looked up from the parchment he was consulting and took in the room. "Although between the state of the various devices and you catching Fawkes on a burning day, I feel like I might be failing in that regard."

"You're doing fine, sir," Harry assured him—hesitated. "So I'm…not expelled?"

"No, Harry, I've not found a reason to do so, and considering your grades, your track record, and the lack of complaint from your teachers I doubt I will find one, barring some tremendous act that breaks several dozen school rules," Dumbledore said, consulting the parchment again. "Considering Fred and George Weasley's current record is twenty-seven and they're still attending, you would have to come up with something rather earth-shaking indeed."

"Oh," Harry noised, feeling faint from relief.

"Yes, unfortunately when people are afraid, they seek out scapegoats—I wish I could tell you that this is an infrequent occurrence, but alas this is not so. I might recommend you avoid a career in politics if this isn't to your fancy."

Harry nodded, finally sipped at his tea.

"Hmm, I will have to ask Professor Burbage for more information on this," Dumbledore muttered after a few minutes. "I confess the school of psychology wasn't what it is today when I went to school. But I must also confess that most fields weren't the same today as when I went to school," he confided, smiling at Harry with twinkling eyes. Harry couldn't help the smile. "Ah good, Harry—you're much too young to be bearing the world on your shoulders. It's why older people tend to be stooped-backed. This, I think, will have to be brought up at the next teacher's meeting," he decided, putting the paper to the side. "Although it gives us two options for conversation: we either address whatever's bothering you, or we studiously avoid such topics and instead discuss things as to decompress. Your choice, Harry."

There was a lot bothering him, but just thinking about it was enough to make a cold sweat start up his back. "If it's all the same to you, professor, I'd rather avoid the topics."

"Very well, Harry—have you tried the biscuits yet? The jammy dodgers are strawberry-flavored," he offered, holding the plate out for Harry to sample. "They're my new addiction, although I suppose I could have worse. Incidentally, did anything come of the tapestry on the fifth floor?"

Harry reported that they had yet to find anything, but that Neville had found a fake wall by accident one day (he had sagged against it only to find it wouldn't support his weight). Dumbledore nodded, lamented the fact that this whole year had been a poor one for extracurricular exploration, asked if he had been enjoying his classes this year.

"Um, all except Defense," Harry confided. "I'm not really sure what we're learning. And History, but…."

Dumbledore nodded. "History is a lot less dull when you're in the middle of making it, but even then I find I still get the dates mixed up."

Harry did feel a lot better when Dumbledore finally thought he had taken up enough of his time and told him so on the way back to the dorm.

"Ah, so this might work after all," Dumbledore said brightly. "I shall have to inform the other teachers so we can set up schedules."

Harry nodded, hesitated. "Um, sir? What do I do, about the other students?"

"A very difficult question, Harry, very difficult—oftentimes facing down an angry mob is nothing less than terrifying, for trying to counter them is you wasting your breath, not answering them is cowardice, and trying to fight back puts you in the wrong. Desperately tricky no matter the age." Silence as he pondered this. "I would say it's best to face it with your head held high, but I must also confess that it's been a very long time since I've been twelve. If you need to retreat to gather yourself, then I recommend you do so. I'm sure if you ask a teacher nicely, you can duck in while they grade papers."

Harry wasn't sure about that, but thanked him anyway before going into the dorm room—and then ducking his head as he went to the corner where Ron and Hermione were.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Just a few more weeks, then we can get to the bottom of all this."

"I can't wait," Ron said fervently before standing and shaking his fist. "OI! You don't got something better to do!? I'll take ALL of you on!"

"Me too!" Neville shot.

"We've lost enough house points, everyone focus on your homework," Percy said loudly. When nobody moved: "I have spent most of my life in the company of Fred and George Weasley—you will not survive an altercation with me."

Everyone went back to their studies.

"Now why did it work for you and not me?" Ron demanded of Percy. "I've spent my entire life with Fred and George!"

Percy's expression was smug as he rubbed his prefect badge. "You have to have one of these, Ron."

Harry considered his options the next morning, finally consulted Snips.

"What do you think?" he asked the little…thing. "Go without the invisibility cloak and try to take the high road, or stick with the current plan?"

Snips pondered it for a few beats before tugging an edge of the invisibility cloak over.

"That's what I though too."

Harry did take Dumbledore's advice though, insofar as sticking his head into an available teacher's office and asking if he could study in there worked. This had the added bonus of having someone knowledgeable available if he had questions, and he was pretty sure it also doubled as them ruling him out as the heir.

With teachers like Flitwick and Slughorn, this also came with the addition of biscuits and tea, so the only downside Harry had found thus far was that he wasn't spending time with his friends.

"This business is absolutely dreadful," Slughorn lamented one day, pausing in his paper-grading to drink some tea. "I remember the last time the Chamber opened—had to be a good fifty years ago now—as terrifying then as it is now."

"I think Hagrid told me something about that," Harry said. "I think he said someone died?"

"Yes, dreadful business—Myrtle Warren, she was terribly picked on back then—she was hiding in a bathroom stall after one of her classmates teased her for her glasses when the monster got her." Pause, as though drawing a correlation between her and Harry. "Ah—Harry, promise me you won't go skulking off in the castle by yourself."

"I won't, professor," Harry assured him, thinking that that hadn't been helping people but understanding his concern. "And um—I know this sounds kind of…odd…but please don't tell Professor Lockhart I did my homework in your office."

It was a request he had been making of all the teachers, and every time he got the same response: a nod and an understanding noise.

"I don't understand it," Slughorn sighed. "I remember teaching Gilderoy—dab hand at Charms, but not Defense—I suppose he must have been a late bloomer."

Harry didn't know enough to say for certain and decided to help himself to another biscuit instead.

But finally—finally—Christmas break was upon them. The castle was all-but deserted thanks to the recent attacks (a ghost being affected had spooked everyone, no pun intended), and it meant that Harry was once again a free man.

"Good to see you again, Harry!" George said on the first day of break.

"Hello George, hello Fred," Harry greeted. "You two are staying over the holidays too?"

"Showing solidarity for our fellow Weasleys," Fred said, a hand to his chest. "Although I don't know about Edmund, Hubert, or Donald."

"Donald probably went to visit Bill with Mum and Dad," George said pensively. "That bloke won't miss a chance to learn a new curse."

"Hubert would probably go because Hufflepuffs find things—"

"And Edmund wouldn't pass up the opportunity to learn something new."

"So it's just the two of us," Fred and George agreed.

"Eventually they'll realize they have other siblings," Ron offered, patting a spot on the rug and offering a toasted marshmallow on a stick.

"Ah, right," Fred said, pointing. "Ickle Ronniekins."

"And Percy's staying for teacher solidarity," George mused as Harry sat down, Snips flitting down to his knee. "Although I don't know what Ginny's reason is—we told her getting away from the castle would be good for her."

"We also told her the mummies would come to life."

"That might be it."

"It might also be that she didn't want to ride the train by herself," Percy said, flicking them both in the back of the head before settling in an ottoman by the window, where thick flakes of snow drifted by. "You'll have to ask her when she comes down."

That settled, they turned back to toasting breakfast (Fred and George had procured the food from somewhere—Harry suspected House Elves), letting Ginny and Hermione into their little circle and giving Percy a sausage on a stick to nibble on while he read.

In all, very cozy, and for the first time in over a month Harry finally felt that nasty tangled ball in his chest ease.

For now, at least, things were going well.