Thanks, as always, goes to my wonderful beta, cwarbeck, who edited the chapter in about half a day.
Words with a letter, then . . . indicate stammering (Harry). Neville’s stuttering is shown by dashes between the troublesome letters. They are two different conditions. In stammering the speaker gets hung up on a letter, pauses, then blurts it out. A stutterer repeats the problem letter several times. A brilliant depiction of a young boy who stammers and the problems the condition cause is shown in Black Swan Green by David Mitchell. I wanted to explain the two conditions, so there would be no confusion as to why I punctuated them differently.
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Saving Harry | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1040 Summary: What if JKR had never intended the Harry Potter series to be for children? How would Harry’s time at the Dursleys been written? This story focuses on the years Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs at number four Privet Drive, as well as his first appearance at Hogwarts. The treatment he receives during his decade there is not described in fairy tale terms. The boy who initially develops is not the Harry Potter we know. The story is liberally AU, with different personality traits, events, and relationships used to reflect the changes in this very different Harry and the environment in which he grew up. In the end, through the assistance of a certain redheaded young lady, Harry ultimately finds the life he should have had and rediscovers the qualities he always had inside of him. While I am not a psychologist or child development expert, the symptoms, actions, and behaviors portrayed reflect the realities of child abuse. Appropriate disclosures will be contained in the Author’s Notes above the chapter when warranted. Hitcount: Story Total: 340875; Chapter Total: 13913 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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September 2nd: First day of classes Harry woke early the next morning, finding himself curled almost in a ball. He stretched to work out the kinks but jumped when his hand bumped into a wooden wall. Oh! That’s right. I slept in the wardrobe. I can’t believe how loud those guys snore. After peeking around the partially open wardrobe door and verifying his roommates were still sleeping, Harry got up, returned the pillow and blanket to his bed, and went over to the adjacent window. A mixture of greys and pinks on the horizon announced the sun was just rising. Harry quietly pulled his Charms book from his trunk. The soft rays from the nascent sun provided enough light for the boy to read, as he sat against the headboard of his new bed. After reviewing the first six chapters, he decided to get ready for the day. Fifteen minutes later, he had showered and dressed. Since his roommates were still sleeping, Harry grabbed the Charms book and went downstairs to the common room. No one else was up yet, so he sat in a comfy chair by the fireplace. Even though the embers from the previous night’s fire had turned cold, he felt comfortable sitting there and started reading the seventh chapter. When he was about halfway through the chapter, Harry sensed someone coming down the girls’ stairs. For some reason, he was disappointed it was the rude girl from the train, carrying a full book bag with her. She’s probably nervous, since this is the first day, and she doesn’t know what to expect. Plus, she mentioned she’s Muggle-born. Oh, no. Why’s she walking towards me? She has the entire common room to pick from, and she’s going to sit by me. What’s with that girl? Harry watched with growing irritation as the witch continued walking in his direction, until she reached the sofa next to his chair. Apparently she hadn’t noticed his sour expression, because she put her book bag on the table, and after glancing at the title of Harry’s text, pulled out her own Charms book. Sitting down, she looked straight at him. Harry quickly ducked his head back into the book, but to no avail; she started talking, determined to get to know the boy she’d read so much about. “Hello. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m Hermione Granger. You’re Harry Potter, of course. Isn’t Charms fascinating? I’ve tried a couple of the simpler spells myself, at home, you know. All of them worked. Have you tried any?” Whoa! She didn’t take one breath while she was talking. Why does she think she can just come up and start talking to people? I wonder if blowing up Dumbledore’s office and the training with McGonagall count as doing spells. Harry shook his head, indicating he hadn’t and went back to reading his book, hoping she would leave him alone. “I’ve gone through each book twice now. I’m Muggle-born, so all of this is new to me. Don’t you find it all so fascinating?” She likes the word ‘fascinating.’ She’s used it twice already. I wonder what she’d do if I told her I’d read all the books at least three times each. Bet she’d read them all again before breakfast. She’d die if I told her I’d read the second and third year books already. He shrugged, without looking up from his book. “Hmmmpphh!” The bushy-haired girl fired an irritated glance at him, then dove into her Charms book. Finally. A few minutes later, Ron’s voice broke the frosty silence by the fireplace. “There you are. I’m starving. Let’s go to breakfast.” Harry stared at the redheaded boy. I really don’t want to go with him. I know he’s trying to make up for the prank, but it’s like I expect something else to happen, like he’s setting me up again. The boy took a deep breath. I’ve gotta try. He didn’t do anything on the train, and they all helped me out at the train station and here. I’ll just watch them until I feel comfortable again. I really wish Ginny were here. Harry got up and left the girl sitting there, open-mouthed. Did she think we were going to ask her to join us? Harry was sure he heard the word “boys” spat out like a swear word, as he and Ron left the common room. Mr Weasley wanted me to make friends outside of my House. Merlin, that’ll be tough. Everyone’s going to wonder what’s going on, when I talk with Tracey and Daphne. Oh, Susan Bones, too. She’s in Hufflepuff. And Neville, at least he’s in Gryffindor. When they entered the Great Hall, all conversation ceased, as the students stared at the new student. Harry felt the heat rising up his neck, and he ducked his head to avoid seeing the people stare. After a few interminable seconds, the whispering started. Don’t people think I can hear? If I’m lucky, they’ll get used to me in a few days and will stop this staring and gossiping. I’ll talk with the girls after breakfast. Otherwise, everyone here is going to be watching. God, this is hard. Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table with Ron opposite him, Harry pushed scrambled eggs with mushrooms onto his plate, along with a couple of sausages, and poured a glassful of pumpkin juice. He looked up and down the long table, shaking his head at the amount of food it held and trying not to think how it compared to the sparse quantity he had received at the Dursleys’. Harry struggled not to listen to the comments being made. “I can’t believe he’s that small, even for a first year.” “He looks like he hasn’t had a good meal his entire life. Look how sunken his cheeks and eyes are.” “How did someone like that defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” “Well, it wasn’t in arm wrestling.” “Ha! Good one.” “He looks like he could barely hold up a wand, let alone cast a spell.” Harry tried to ignore the comments being made about him, by listening to the conversations of those students who were sitting too close to actually talk about him. The other Gryffindor first years — Neville, Seamus, Dean, Hermione and her roommates — had arrived several minutes after he and Ron had sat down. From what he overheard, the Gryffindors by him were primarily interested in Quidditch. Of course, he thought, that may have been Ron Weasley’s influence, since he spoke about almost nothing else. Harry quickly got bored with the non-stop discussion of Quidditch. I need to talk with other people. I can’t be like I was at school. Ron and the twins aren’t Dudley and his gang. Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley want me to do this. The boy closed his eyes for a moment and focused on breathing deeply. I can do this. He turned to Neville Longbottom, who was seated next to him. “N . . . Neville.” The boy looked at Harry in surprise. “I j . . . just saw that our f . . . families are related,” Harry said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m g . . . glad we’re both Gryffindors.” Harry forced a small smile but wasn’t sure he succeeded. Neville’s eyes dipped down and his cheeks took on a rosy tint. “M-m-most pure-blood families are related in some way or another. There’re n-not that m-many families anymore.” “That’s what D . . . Daphne Greengrass said on the train.” Neville’s head snapped up. “Y-y-you talked to her?” Harry shrugged. “She and Tracey D . . . Davis came by and said ‘hi.’ They said they were trying to meet all the first years.” “M-m-more like they wanted to m-meet you.” Harry grimaced. “I hate that. I didn’t do anything.” He looked up. “Sorry, I’m not m . . . mad at you.” Neville stared at Harry for several moments. When he began to speak, his voice had taken on a different timbre. “You’ll find some pure-bloods believe that anyone who is not a pure-blood isn’t worth their time.” Harry looked puzzled. “D . . . Daphne wasn’t like that. Tracey said she was half-blood, and it didn’t seem to matter to Daphne.” Neville’s eyes swept the hall. “Families like the M-M-Malfoys, N-Notts, and Parkinsons think blood purity is the most important thing there is.” “All Slytherins,” Harry noted, while Neville nodded his head. “But the Weasleys are pure-blood and they aren’t like that. Guess that’s why they’re G . . . Gryffindors.” Neville smiled tentatively. That’s another reason the Houses shouldn’t be set up that way. They just repeat the same stuff to each other. Harry looked at Neville. “Thanks.” Neville stared for a few seconds, then swallowed visibly. “Y-y-you don’t know any of this, do you?” Harry shook his head. “Almost n . . . nothing. Except for the last m . . . month with Ron and his family, I lived in the M . . . Muggle world and didn’t even know I was a wizard.” Neville shook his head at the news. “N-no one knew where you were after . . . well . . . you know. That’s one of the reasons everyone is so interested in you. At least, that’s what my Gran thinks.” “I hadn’t thought of that. I just wish I knew m . . . more about the wizarding world, like all the pure-blood and half-blood stuff.” Neville stared at his plate, before finally responding. “I c-can help you.” He took a deep breath. “M-my Gran made sure I learned all of that.” “That would be great, Neville. Thanks!” Harry smiled at his roommate. Neville straightened up a bit. “Y-you’re welcome.” While Harry and Neville were talking, Dumbledore and McGonagall observed their new student. The Potions professor seated far to their right also subtly watched the boy. “Oh, Albus, Harry still looks so malnourished, even after Molly had him for those weeks. He looks almost emaciated,” the Transfiguration teacher said. “He’ll get enough food here,” the headmaster replied. “I’m more concerned with the effects of the prank. I’m sure that did not help his relationship with the Weasley boys at all. Harry seems to have anger or some insecurity remaining. I’m just not sure at this point. I visited his common room this morning, under wraps, as it were, and he completely ignored Miss Granger when she tried to start a conversation with him. Harry even seemed to resent her trying to talk with him. I hope she keeps trying, because she’s one of the few first years that has his intellectual talents. We’ll need to keep a close eye on him.” “Speaking of which,” McGonagall said. “I should hand out the class schedules. I’ll talk with you after Harry has had my class.” The Gryffindor Head of House walked over to the table where her students were seated and started handing out the class schedules for the year. About a third of the way down the long table, she came to several first years. “Miss Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, Potter. Here are your class schedules. Do learn them soon and the quickest route to each classroom. I do not want points taken from my House for tardiness.” She handed out the schedules, which contained the classes they would be taking and their time slots. Harry thought this would be the first time he had classes taught by different teachers and in different classrooms. At his Muggle school, he had always had the same teacher, and all subjects were taught in the same classroom. Another thing to get used to. I don’t even know my way around the castle yet. Plus, the staircases move. I really don’t want to lose any House points. He looked at his schedule, finding they had Charms first, then Transfiguration, lunch, and finishing with History of Magic in the afternoon. On the way out of the hall, Harry noticed some activity in his peripheral vision. Looking to his right, he saw that Tracey and Daphne were waving at him, both smiling. He immediately felt the heat of a blush beginning on his cheeks, but he waved briefly at the two girls. I’ve got to do this for Mr Weasley. Harry stopped, and after a step so did Ron, Neville, and Hermione. “Ron,” he paused in thought for a moment, “N . . . Neville. Let’s say hi to Daphne and Tracey. It’ll just be a second.” The two boys looked surprised, almost shocked, by Harry’s suggestion. Finally, Ron shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.” The three Gryffindor boys walked toward the Slytherin table, as the bushy-haired witch quickly left the hall, blinking rapidly. Harry could feel his muscles tighten as he approached the table, certain that many of the students remaining in the hall were watching him and wondering what he was doing. Daphne and Tracey had both got up and walked towards the three Gryffindor boys, meeting them at the end of their table. Daphne spoke first. “Hi, Harry, Ron. Neville, it’s been a while. Oh, Tracey, this is Neville Longbottom.” She smiled. “He’s a fifth cousin on my dad’s side, I think. About the same as with Potter and Weasley here.” Tracey smiled at Neville, “I’m Tracey Davis.” While Neville blushed, she turned to Ron and Harry. “You’re brave to venture over here.” Might as well let them know. “It shouldn’t be,” Harry replied quietly. “Davis, Greengrass, why are you slumming with them?” All eyes turned towards the whinging voice. Quickly an older Slytherin, with a prefect’s badge on his robes, stood up and said harshly, “Shut up, Malfoy, before you cost us more points.” Draco’s cheeks coloured and his eyes flashed with malice, but he didn’t say anything else. Daphne took a step closer to the three Gryffindors. “That ponce. Everyone hates him at this point,” she said in a very quiet voice. “For some reason, he thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to Slytherin House.” Both she and Tracey shook their heads. Tracey’s demeanour quickly changed, as her usual smile replaced the Draco-induced frown. “So, Harry, are we your Slytherin friends? That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?” Four open mouths greeted Tracey’s remark. As soon as Harry recovered, he smiled. “The Hat also considered Ravenclaw, didn’t he?” Tracey raised an eyebrow. “Gryffindor, too.” “Both of those houses for me, too,” added Daphne. “Hufflepuff,” Neville whispered. Ron shook his head. “Just Gryffindor.” “No surprise there, Ron.” Daphne smiled at the redhead. “Has there ever been a Weasley in any other House?” Ron smiled. “Not that we know of.” Four sets of eyes turned to Harry. “Well?” Tracey asked. Harry shrugged. “All four.” There were four rather sharp sounds of air being inhaled involuntarily, as the four magical students gaped at Harry. “You could have been in Slytherin?” Ron gasped, thankfully in a whisper. “Shh,” four different voices quickly responded. The first years glanced around the room, relieved to see that no one had heard Ron’s comment. Tracey had the same look as earlier. “We could have been in different Houses, except for Ron,” she said quietly. “You don’t care about House boundaries. Is that it?” Harry couldn’t hold back his smile. “What do they m . . . matter? The Sorting shows that.” Now or never. “So, are you our Slytherin friends?” His eyes moved from Tracey to Daphne. “Yes,” Daphne replied immediately. “Count me in.” Tracey smiled. Harry smiled at the two witches. “Good. Th . . . think about anyone else, okay?” The girls nodded, and the two Slytherin witches walked out of the hall with the three Gryffindor wizards, followed by a number of curious stares. At the Entrance Hall, the five new friends split up, with the two witches departing to the dungeons. The Gryffindor first years returned to their common room, retrieved the books they needed, then set out for the Charms classroom. Walking into the room, Harry was surprised by two things. The desks were arranged in a large “U” shape, leaving the middle of the room open. Probably for spell demonstrations, he thought. The second startling sight was the teacher, Professor Flitwick. He was shorter than Harry, much shorter. And because of that, he stood on his desk, so his students could see him. If he sat at his desk, the top of his head would barely be higher than the desktop. No wonder he does that. As the professor greeted the students from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor and began the lesson, Harry immediately liked Professor Flitwick. He seemed like a nice person, and his explanation of the Levitation Spell was clear and understandable. The professor had the class practice the incantation, Wingardium Leviosa, and the swish and flick wand movement several times before letting them attempt the complete spell. Remembering that Dumbledore didn’t want him to do wandless or non-verbal magic, Harry waved his wand and said the incantation Flitwick had indicated and he had practiced dozens of times while in his room at the Weasleys' and during his training lessons. “Wonderful, Mr Potter!” The professor literally bounced on top of his desk, clapping his hands, and smiling at Harry’s feather, which rose from the desktop towards the ceiling. “Bring it back down now, please.” Harry moved his arm slowly, until the feather landed gently on the desk. “Ten points to Gryffindor. It’s highly unusual to do that on your first try. Well done, Mr Potter!” Harry could feel everyone staring at him, particularly Hermione, who fumed, as she repeatedly waved her wand at the offending feather and enunciated the incantation. Just as her feather started to rise, Seamus’ feather exploded in a burst of dark grey smoke, and Hermione’s feather plunked back down on the desk. By the way she looked at the Irish boy, Harry thought she was going to curse him. Ron’s question startled Harry. “How did you do that?” Harry shrugged and pointed at the feather again, raising it to the top of the ceiling. All conversation and activity abruptly stopped, as the professor and all his classmates stared in shock at Harry. He looked around, feeling extremely self-conscious, trying to figure out why they were staring again. It was only when he lowered the feather that he figured it out. Oh crap! I forgot to use my wand. I may have forgotten to say the words out loud, too. I can’t believe I did that. I’m in trouble already. Dumbledore is going to be furious. Even worse Professor McGonagall will be disappointed in me. The class exploded in noise. Ron’s nervous comment was the only one he could hear clearly. “Harry, I thought you weren’t supposed to do that in school.” Harry’s spirits sank at his mistake, but they quickly got worse when Harry saw Flitwick’s distressed expression. The professor mouthed, ‘See me after class.’ All Harry could do was nod his head, even though he wished he could disappear under the desk. My first class, and I do the one thing McGonagall and Dumbledore asked me not to do. The class bell rang shortly thereafter. Ron whispered, “I’ll wait outside the classroom for you.” Harry nodded, feeling upset at himself and the world in general, as his classmates stared at him and whispered to each other as they left. “Mr Potter, please come here.” Harry walked over to the professor’s desk. “The headmaster told us of your talents and that he had requested you not to make them public. What happened?” Harry could have explained he’d forgotten he had placed his wand on the desk and instinct had taken over when Ron asked to show him how the spell was done. Or, he could have said that’s how he did magic, that he found a wand cumbersome and unnecessary. Instead, he said nothing and hung his head, knowing that to argue with an adult or even try to explain something led to being punished. With that thought, Harry began to get angry again. Why won’t Dumbledore leave me alone? First he ignores me for ten years, then he comes out of nowhere and starts dictating everything in my life. Why doesn’t he just let me learn magic the best way I can? The tiny professor backed up as far as he could on the desk. “Mr Potter, please calm down. You won’t be punished, but I will have to inform the headmaster of your demonstration. He’ll decide what to do from there. You may go to your next class now.” Harry was fuming, feeling like the walls were closing in on him, and that he couldn’t do anything right. Every thought he had brought him back to the same source. Albus Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione accosted Harry the second he stepped into the hallway. “How did you do that?” Hermione demanded. “Did you get in trouble?” Ron quickly followed. “Who taught you?” Hermione’s voice rose a half octave. “We better get moving to Transfiguration, or else McGonagall will skin us.” With that, the three first years ran down the hall, entering the classroom, just as Professor McGonagall looked at the clock. All she did was briefly glance at the three students and arch an eyebrow. Ten seconds later, the classroom echoed with shrieks, then applause, when the professor transformed into a tabby cat and back to herself. Her credentials established, the stern teacher explained how to do the first transfiguration task and handed out a wooden match to each student. “You may begin.” Harry, with his wand firmly in hand, followed the instructions the professor and the book provided, muttered the appropriate words, and watched as the match turned into a pointed, silver needle, with a little hole at the end. “Mr Potter!” He looked up reluctantly, his stomach suddenly uneasy. All activity and noise ceased, as if a giant “off” switch had been thrown. Again, he could feel the eyes of each student on him. McGonagall walked over to his desk and picked up the needle, eyeing him with curiosity. She muttered some words, and the needle turned back into its original shape. “Will you do that again, Mr Potter?” Making sure the wand was still in his hand and repeating the incantation, Harry again turned the match into a gleaming silver sewing needle. A gasp went up from the class. Harry sneaked a look at Hermione, whose brow was furrowed, as she repeated the wand movement and words but with scant results. Harry thought her match now looked like a large grey sliver. “Excellent, Mr Potter. This is the first time a new student has transfigured a match on the first try. I’ll get some other inanimate objects for you to work on. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, the rest of you, back to work.” McGonagall looked around the classroom, then added, “What Mr Potter has done is highly unusual, to say the least. Do not let it bother you if you can’t match his results today. Please proceed.” As the class progressed and the more objects Harry transfigured, the more upset Hermione got, until she was almost screaming at the poor match. By the time the double session ended, Hermione’s face was so red she looked like she had terminal sunburn. The young witch finally reached a state of apoplexy when the professor awarded Harry another ten points for his work. The barrage of questions started anew the second the three students exited the classroom. Apparently, Hermione didn’t notice the effect her non-stop questioning was having on her new classmate, especially when it verged on being accusatory in nature. Finally, Harry had enough. “Shut up!” His eyes blazed into hers. All three students stopped and stared at each other. Hermione and Ron both had their jaw drop at the usually quiet boy’s exclamation. “Leave me alone,” he snarled and he stormed off, leaving his two classmates standing like statues in the middle of the hallway. Harry entered the Great Hall, steaming at the day’s events and sat at the end of the table, close to the entrance doors. He grabbed a sandwich, a handful of crisps, poured some juice, and started attacking his food, not tasting a single bite. How stupid can I be? I forget to use my wand in Charms, after they tell me not to do wandless magic! Hermione can’t believe anyone can beat her in any subject and starts demanding how I do this stuff! I don’t know how I do it! I just do it! Can’t she leave me alone? I hate this! I can’t believe it’s only the first half of the first day! I’ll never make it here! “Harry?” “What?” he said angrily, then he looked up. “Oh.” Dumbledore had a concerned expression on his face. “Could you see me after your History of Magic class this afternoon? The password is ‘Fruit Loops.’” The password confused the young boy. Why would he pick the name of a Muggle cereal for his password? Harry looked at the headmaster and nodded his head. After lunch, Harry followed the other Gryffindor first years to the History of Magic classroom. He had eagerly anticipated this class, so he could start overcoming his almost non-existent knowledge of the magical world. He assumed the course would provide an overview of magic through the ages, the development of governing bodies, creation of spells and counter-curses and their regulation, among many other interesting topics. Harry also wondered if the material would focus solely on the British magical society or world wide. He felt it could be one of the most interesting classes he would be taking. The professor hadn’t yet arrived, and Harry overheard Ron talking to Seamus and Dean. “The twins told me that the professor is a ghost. They must think I’m as thick as a Yorkshire wizard’s accent.” All three boys started laughing, then stopped abruptly, as Professor Binns entered the classroom by dropping through the ceiling. To everyone’s shock, he really was a ghost! For once, the twins weren’t pulling someone’s chain. A few girls — and one highly embarrassed Hufflepuff boy — screamed, but the teacher didn’t seem to notice. He floated over to the board, wrote his name, and started his lecture without any preliminaries. Harry was hugely disappointed. Binns’ voice would cure insomnia and it had a monotone quality, with no colour whatsoever. When Harry thought about it, Binns’ voice probably was appropriate for a ghost. The worst part, though, was the subject matter. Binns droned on about nothing other than goblin rebellions, and after Harry checked the syllabus, he found the class focused almost exclusively on goblin rebellions. Apparently, there has been a lot of them. After no more than thirty minutes of Binns’ lecture, all of the students, except for Hermione and Harry, wore glazed expressions or had actually fallen asleep, with their head on the desk. Harry fought to maintain some semblance of alertness and tried to take notes, but it ended up being a losing battle. Now I know why Professor McGonagall suggested I get some books on magical history. As the end of the double session approached, an irritating thought came to Harry. He had to go to Dumbledore’s office. He assumed it was prompted by his use of wandless magic in Charms. He also assumed that the headmaster would lecture him for doing that, since he had asked Harry not to make that ability public. When the bell rang, he walked out of class with the others but headed in the direction of Dumbledore’s office, without saying a word to his Housemates. After giving the password to the lion-like statue, he rode up the curving stairs and was greeted with a warm, “Welcome, Harry!” before he reached the door. Harry looked around the office and quickly noticed it had been repaired, with one exception. Professor Dumbledore now had decidedly fewer silver trinkets. I guess I demolished them so badly they couldn’t be fixed. “Please take a seat, Harry.” The wizard gestured to a comfy, overstuffed chair that sat in front of his large desk. “Lemon drop?” Harry reached out and took one from the offered tray. “How are you finding your first day of classes, my boy?” Dumbledore beamed at him, his blue eyes twinkling. “Was it anything like you anticipated?” Harry tried to mask the flare of irritation he felt. Don’t call me ‘my boy.’ Why don’t you ask me what you want and stop wasting time? Just yell at me for using wandless magic. He shrugged. “Well, it looks like you’ve already met some students outside your House. We saw you talking with Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis at breakfast. How did you get to know them?” Harry stared at the headmaster, knowing if he said anything, he would probably get detention. What business of his is it who I talk with? Dumbledore peered at the boy, and the twinkle dimmed somewhat. “Harry, do you remember when Professor McGonagall mentioned you shouldn’t use your wandless or non-verbal magic in school?” Harry’s eyes narrowed, as he went back to his recollection of the conversation. Here’s the reason he wanted to see me. The problem is I don’t know exactly when she told me. Harry shook his head. Dumbledore looked puzzled, his eyebrows rising but quickly being pulled back to their normal place. “Well, I’ll need to make my wishes clearer next time. More importantly, do you understand why doing wandless or non-verbal magic could create problems?” Not really. Why don’t you explain? Besides, it was a mistake. I didn’t realize I was doing that. The boy shook his head again and noticed that the office had become warmer. Dumbledore sighed. “It will bring even more attention to you, since very few adults can do magic that way. That you can do it at eleven is virtually unheard of.” But isn’t it better to be known for magical abilities than for something I did when I was a baby, don’t remember, and should get no credit for? Another shrug, as he swiped at the moisture on his forehead. Irritation became evident on the Headmaster’s face. “I would appreciate a verbal response, Harry.” Harry’s irritation reached the level of Dumbledore’s and moved past it. He repeated in rapid-fire fashion each of the thoughts he had expressed to himself. “Doing the charm wandlessly was a mistake. I put my wand down after I had completed levitating the feather. Ron asked how I did it. I forgot to pick up my wand when I showed him. Everyone was looking, since I was the only one who could do the charm. “I don’t know what day or time Professor McGonagall told me not to use wandless magic. “I don’t see why doing magic this way is a problem. It’s how I do it. It’s no big deal. I have enough things to think about since I’m just learning about magic and the wizarding world. “I doubt I could attract any more attention than I am now, so that’s not really a concern. “I don’t know why you’d be interested where I met Daphne and Tracey. “And I really don’t like to be called ‘my boy.’ “Is that enough verbal response for you? “I have one for you. Why did Voldemort try to kill me?” The Headmaster looked furious. “This isn’t the time or place to get into that discussion. Suffice it to say, it was not the wisest thing to display your magical abilities, especially on the first day, when attention on you is at its highest.” “I told you I didn’t even know I had done that.” Harry’s felt his eyes narrowing, and moisture beading on his forehead. Dumbledore was his only focus, and the rest of the office began to blur. You want me to hold back in school just like I had to with the Dursleys. And I hated it! “Harry!” Dumbledore looked alarmed. “Please calm down. My purpose in calling you here was not to upset you.” Harry realized what he was doing and pulled himself back, breathing slowly and as deeply as he could in order to calm himself. He closed his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again, he saw Dumbledore staring intently into his eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. Harry felt something strange, something he’d never felt before, like soft fingers were moving inside his head. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise, as the headmaster’s gaze continued to be locked on his eyes. Harry became increasingly concerned about the continued pressure inside his head. “Professor, I’m feeling something in my head . . .” As soon as his words were spoken, the feeling went away. Was Dumbledore doing that? Dumbledore smiled at the boy, his eyes twinkling again. “Thank you for meeting with me. Don’t worry about what happened in Charms. But please use your wand and say the incantations. Agreed?” Harry peered at the wizard for several moments. “Yes, sir.” “Harry, I want you to know I’m available for you anytime, for anything you want to talk about.” He smiled again. “Why don’t you return to your House and meet up with your friends. Dinner will begin in just over an hour. Good day, Harry.” Despite feeling furious, Harry nodded at the headmaster and left the seventh floor office. The small boy stalked down the corridor, replaying the meeting in his mind as if it were a video. Harry had walked about two-thirds of the way down the empty hallway, when he stopped abruptly. After a second’s hesitation, he started pacing back and forth. I can’t stand this. I need somewhere to go so I can calm down. I don’t know how much longer I can stand it here. That’s the only way out of this. I just hope the Weasleys understand. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then resumed pacing. I need to calm down before I go back and tell Dumbledore. God, I’m so angry with him. I need to get this out of my system so I can talk with him and not explode. Harry stopped and closed his eyes, remembering to breathe deeply. When he opened his eyes again, a door had mysteriously appeared in the middle of the previously blank wall. How did that happen? A moment later, he knew. The castle’s magical. I felt it when I first got here. He hesitated only a few seconds before gripping the door handle and pulling the door open. Two steps into the room, Harry stopped and looked around in amazement. It’s exactly what I asked for. A blazing fire snapped and danced in a red brick fireplace that stood against the middle of the wall to his left. An overstuffed sofa sat in front of it and effectively divided the room in half lengthwise. Finishing off the ‘calming’ side of the room were two comfortable looking chairs on either side of the sofa, a large rectangular table in front of it, and a large bookcase against the wall straight ahead of him. The colours were soothing, predominantly rich burgundies and hunter greens, with the chairs covered in a brocade fabric in those colours, intermixed with a soft, burnished golden toned pattern. All of the wood pieces were a mellow medium golden brown-stained oak. Harry couldn’t help but smile when he looked at that setting, but he tore his eyes away to see what the room had provided so he could drain his anger. His smile quickly returned when his survey showed both Muggle and magical equipment. Two punching bags dominated the far, right corner. One was suspended from the wall, with the bag at a height of someone’s head who was slightly shorter than he was. The second bag was much bigger and heavier and was tethered to the floor and ceiling. Most interesting, though, was the magical equipment. A set of ten life-like dummies about his size stood against the wall to his right. When Harry completed his survey of the room, he thought, What is this place? A parchment scroll slowly materialized half a metre from his eyes. As you may have deduced by now, the room will configure itself to meet your wishes or needs. By pacing three times in front of the blank wall outside while thinking what you need or want, you can create the setting that conforms to your wishes. While the door is not visible to anyone else other than those who desire the same thing you have, some witches and wizards can overcome the protective wards of the room and gain entry. If that is a concern, the user of the room may wish to take additional steps to provide privacy and silence. Harry immediately cast Colloportus and Silencio and continued reading the scroll. Additional features, facilities, and accessories may be brought forth simply by asking the room to provide them. All of the changes you have requested will remain in place as long as you remain in the room. Once you vacate, the room will disappear, unless you request it to remain available to you. The room is protected by anti-Apparition and Portkey wards, which cannot be over-ridden, except by the Hogwarts house elves, who will provide food and drink when requested. Please enjoy the room with our compliments. We hope it meets your requirements! Godric Gryffindor Helga Hufflepuff Rowena Ravenclaw Salazar Slytherin The scroll faded from sight when Harry finished reading. The four Founders of Hogwarts. Merlin! I guess I was walking back and forth in front of that wall, thinking about what I needed. This is amazing. But what are house elves? Harry turned toward the dummies. “Please move forward two metres from the wall.” The dummies did precisely that. Harry barked a laugh at how they moved exactly the same. Even though his anger had dissipated while marvelling at the room’s magic, Harry still wanted to practice. It will give me a chance to try that Stunning Spell I read about. He turned towards the dummy on his far right, pointed his hand at its chest and thought Stupefy. A split second later, the dummy pitched over backwards, almost as if an invisible hand had pushed it. That’s not very good. It just fell over. I wonder if I can knock it back further. Harry’s eyes narrowed. This time he focused more intensely and threw his hand more forcefully at the next dummy’s chest, while thinking the incantation. The dummy tumbled back about a metre this time. With each cast, the subsequent dummy flew further back, until the fifth one, which stood directly in front of the boy. With a swift, aggressive movement and barked command, the dummy crashed into the wall behind it and slid to the ground. That’s better. I guess I should try the left hand now. While somewhat weaker than the results obtained by his right hand, Harry saw the same progress as he cast the Stunning Spell against the five remaining dummies, with the last one landing at the base of the wall behind it. By the time Harry had finished Stunning the ten dummies a second time, he felt his anger and his energy draining from him. Walking to the sofa, he thought, I could use a glass of cold pumpkin juice. Within seconds of sitting down, a sharp ‘crack’ caused Harry to jump. The strangest looking creature he had ever seen stood in front of him, holding a silver tray with a glass of pumpkin juice on it. Harry and the small creature — he thought it might not come to his waist — stared at each other. Harry’s gaze went from the long, floppy ears, to the overlarge protuberant eyes, pointed nose, and triangular shaped head. Then, he remembered something on the scroll. “You’re a house elf?” The elf nodded her head — at least Harry thought the elf was female — causing her ears to move. “Sir, my name is Mimsy. You asked the Come and Go Room for a glass of pumpkin juice. Here I is with it.” Harry noticed Mimsy was wearing a toga-like garment, with a Hogwarts crest toward the top, on the left side. “Thank you for bringing the juice, Mimsy. My name is Harry Potter.” Mimsy’s eyes grew even large. “You is Harry Potter?” He looked at her curiously. “Yes. You know my name?” “Most elves knows your name, sir.” Harry felt the heat building up, both inside him and through the moisture forming on his skin. When is this going to stop? He noticed Mimsy had backed away a few steps. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You work at Hogwarts?” “Yes, sir, we’s cooks all the meals and cleans the castle.” “The meals are very good. But how do you get them to the tables in the Great Hall?” Mimsy smiled. “House elf magic.” “Is it different than wizard magic?” Mimsy’s eyebrows almost came together, as she thought over the question. “Some of the magics is the same. Others is being different.” “Would you be able to show me sometime?” Harry asked. Mimsy looked nonplussed. “No wizard asking that before. I is not knowing. I’ll be checking.” “Thank you, Mimsy.” “You is welcome, Harry Potter.” With another loud ‘crack,’ the house elf disappeared. Time to go back to the common room, I guess. As he approached the Fat Lady’s portrait, it swung open. Ron and the other first years greeted Harry. After they’d walked for a while, Ron asked, “How was the meeting with Dumbledore?” “S’okay,” Harry replied. Should I tell them? “I felt something moving in my head at the end.” Hermione was the only one who didn’t look confused by Harry’s statement. Her eyes lit up, and her voice took on an authoritative quality. “It’s called Legilimency. I learned about it during the summer when I was doing some light reading in preparation for coming here.” Ron stared at her and shook his head. For his part, Harry forgot his earlier irritation with Hermione; his eyes became wider and wider as she continued to elaborate. “It’s where a wizard enters your mind and reads your thoughts and memories. Was Dumbledore looking directly into your eyes when you felt it?” “Uh huh. My eyes had been closed. The feeling started when I opened them. Dumbledore was staring straight into them.” By this time, the group had entered the Great Hall, and each of the first years looked intently at the headmaster, as they walked to the Gryffindor table. After they sat down, Harry added, “As soon as I told him I felt something funny in my head, it stopped.” He looked at Hermione. “He could see my memories?” Hermione nodded her head. “Yes, a good Legilimens can see whatever memory he wants to see. I would imagine Professor Dumbledore is an accomplished Legilimens.” Harry mouthed ‘Thanks’ to Hermione, and she smiled back at him. He’s unbelievable. First he tries to tell me what I can and can’t do. He’s made decisions about my life, without ever discussing them with me or even telling me what he was doing. Now, he’s entering my mind without asking. What else is he going to do? I’ve got to write Ginny about this. “Uh, Harry? You’re getting pretty red. You okay?” Ron’s question cut through Harry’s mental rant and brought his thoughts back to dinner and the people surrounding him. “Yeah, thanks.” He focused on his breathing until he was calm again. Because his first year Housemates had seen Harry’s reaction to what Dumbledore had done, they left him alone, not bombarding him with the many questions they had. Harry finished his dinner in relative peace and returned to the dormitory with the others. Knowing he would be uncomfortable in the crowded and noisy common room, Harry stuffed several of his books into his book bag. He wanted to go to the library, so he could complete the essay that had been assigned by McGonagall. He also wanted to study ahead for Potions and DADA and begin reading one of his History of Magic books to expand on Professor Binns’ rather goblin-centric viewpoint. “Harry, where are you going?” Ron looked puzzled. “To the library,” Harry replied. Ron winced. “Already?” Harry snorted. “You don’t have to come with me.” “Thanks, Harry.” The redhead turned back to the game of Gobstones he was playing with Dean and Seamus. It’s going to take a while to get used to all of these people and noise. The cupboard and my room at The Burrow were a lot quieter. While walking out of the common room, Harry noticed the twins were the centre of attention in a group of third years, and Percy was nowhere to be found. As soon as he was outside the portrait hole, Harry took out and scanned the Marauders Map. Finding the hallways clear, he put the Map away and walked quickly to the library. Not surprisingly, he found only a handful of students there, including Hermione Granger, who had several large piles of books in front of her. Harry made sure to sit as far from her as he could and sat at a table where he would be facing away from her. When his homework was completed and several chapters of his magical history book read, Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, surprised at how excited he was to tell Ginny about his first day at Hogwarts. The thought also caused a painful ache in his stomach. The boy absently rubbed the area, while he tried to focus on what he would tell his best friend, while trying to ignore the numb feeling that had descended over him. Ginny, Thanks for writing, even if you did ask a lot of questions. I’ve got in trouble already! In Charms class, I forgot I put my wand down, so when Ron asked me to show him how to levitate a feather, I did it wandlessly. Everyone saw me! Professor Flitwick mentioned it to Dumbledore, and I had to talk to him before dinner. A weird thing happened while we were talking. When I told Ron, another first year, the rude girl named Hermione Granger said Dumbledore had done something called Legilimency on me. That’s mind reading. I was mad about Dumbledore not wanting me to do wandless magic, but his Legilimency stuff really got me upset. Well, that’s about it for the first day. I’m looking forward to flying lessons tomorrow, even though I know they won’t be nearly as much fun as when we went flying at your house. Those were the best times I’ve ever had. I hope you’re doing okay, without your brothers at home. Ron seems to be doing fine. I’ve asked Hedwig to wait, in case you want to write a letter back. I heard you got some cool stationery and ink for your birthday. Oh, I’ve written down the classes we had today — Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic (with a ghost teaching it!) — and the homework assigned. Let me know if you have any questions. From Harry The numb feeling had grown while he wrote the letter, and his stomach bothered him. I miss Ginny more than I thought. Everything just seems easier when she’s around. Merlin, I’ve got to stop feeling this way. I’m not a baby anymore. After putting his books and supplies in his book bag and ignoring the pounding headache that had developed, Harry summoned all his available energy, went up to the Owlery, and called Hedwig down to him. Stroking her feathers, he asked, “How do you like it here?” He started scratching the top of her head, and Hedwig leaned into his hand. “I have a letter for Ginny Weasley. You remember where she lives — we stayed there before coming here.” The owl looked at Harry like he had just insulted her, so he added, “So, I’m sure you know exactly how to get there. Would you please wait for her reply? She may write a letter for you to bring back.” Harry tied the letter to her leg. “Have a good flight, girl.” He took Hedwig to an open window and held his arm out, so she could take off easily. Harry watched the owl gracefully soar upwards until she caught a current, then headed south. Before long, she was just a distant dot in the night sky. Harry had just left the Owlery when he passed Draco Malfoy in the hallway. “Why would you be owling anyone? You don’t have any family that’s still alive.” Harry felt adrenaline surge through his body, both numbing it and heightening his senses. At the same time, a fire ignited in his chest, causing sweat to appear on his neck and shoulders. Don’t let him get to you. He’s not worth bothering with. Just keep walking. That’s exactly what Harry did; little knowing that ignoring the sneering boy was probably the best response he could have given. As soon as Harry was far enough away from the blond boy, he stopped and took a number of deep breaths to calm the racing emotions that shot through his body and to try to calm the nauseous feeling that threatened to overcome him. I don’t want to go back to the common room like this. What can I do? An idea formed, and he took out the Map from his bag and began to study it carefully. After several minutes, he found the person he wanted to visit, memorized the directions, and put the Map away. Ten minutes later, his stomach roiling and his head pounding even worse than before, Harry hesitantly approached the location the Map had indicated, but he found no doorway or anything else that resembled an entry. Standing in the middle of the short hallway, he turned slowly in a circle. During his second revolution, he caught sight of something that made him smile. His hunch was rewarded when a door appeared in what had previously been a blank granite block wall. Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A minute later, he was greeted by his surprised professor. “Good evening, Mr Potter. What brings you to my quarters at this hour?” Her tone was not accusatory, but it lacked the warmth he had hoped for. As she looked more closely at her student, Minerva McGonagall gasped, “Harry, are you alright?” The boy launched himself at the witch, throwing his arms around her, as if she were his only lifeline. The professor’s arms immediately encircled the boy, pulling him to her and gently rubbing his back. When the boy finally seemed to calm down, she brought him into her flat, keeping an arm around his shoulders, and sat him in a chair, holding his hands in hers. Kneeling in front of the boy, the professor softly asked, “What’s bothering you, Harry?” The boy blinked rapidly. I shouldn’t have come here. I should have found someplace where I could just be alone until I got over this. He looked at the professor’s grey eyes, though, and saw nothing but concern. She doesn’t think I’m a freak or a baby. She isn’t going to punish me. She’s concerned about me. The last thought broke the dam, and the boy’s emotions that been held back all day exploded through the opening. “Students were staring and whispering everywhere I went . . . I can’t believe I didn’t have a wand in my hand. It wasn’t on purpose . . . Everyone stared at me like I was so different from them. Same thing in your class . . . Hermione got so upset with me for doing better than her, asking a million questions, like she wanted to pull my brain out and examine it . . .” He thought he heard an explosion of air, almost a snort, from the witch. “I was really looking forward to History of Magic and a ghost teaches it, but it’s so boring everyone fell asleep. And then I had to see Dum . . . err, Professor Dumbledore . . . he got upset, I got mad, then he did something inside my head that Hermione called Legealousy or something like that . . .” “Harry. Please stop there and take several deep breaths. That’s better. Slow down.” Minerva McGonagall intentionally spoke quite slowly, knowing that was one technique to bring an out of control child back to a more reasonable pace and thoughts. “Did Miss Granger call it Legilimency?” Harry nodded his head. “That’s it. It was like I could feel something in my head. When I asked Professor Dumbledore what was happening, the feeling stopped, and he told me it was time to go back to the common room.” Minerva McGonagall’s open, kind expression quickly changed to outrage, then even more quickly, moved to a neutral expression. “Harry, I will see if the headmaster has any idea what happened while you were in his office. Were there any other incidents today that upset you?” Harry’s head dropped. “It’s better to get them out. Otherwise, they could fester and become worse.” He raised his head slightly and scrunched his face. “When there are lots of people and noise in the common room . . .” He exhaled in frustration. “Everyone stares or crowds around me and wants to talk and some of their questions are stupid. It just, I don’t know, I don’t like it. I saw Malfoy when I was coming back from the Owlery, and he said something about me not having anyone to write to.” The professor’s eyes flashed. “The worst was when I wrote to Ginny.” The boy’s voice became a whisper. “I . . . miss her. This is so much harder than I thought it would be.” “I can only imagine.” She smiled. “Would you like some tea and biscuits?” The boy stared at his professor, thrown by the abrupt change of subject. He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” As she prepared the tea and brought out a plate of biscuits, the professor continued their conversation. “I am very pleased you came to me, Harry. That took courage on your part and shows why the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor.” They remained silent until the tea was ready. After pouring two cups, McGonagall resumed speaking. “Harry, it would be very wrong for me to mislead you. The path in front of you will be difficult. Because of your . . . previous circumstances, you are now being faced with a series of dramatic changes in your life. You will be thrown off-balance by some of them, or overwhelmed when they all happen at once, such as today. There are ways to cope with that stress that will help keep you calmer and more able to handle what is happening. I will suggest to the headmaster that we make certain facilities available to you.” “Like the Room of Requirement?” the boy asked. The professor stared in shock at the boy. “How do you know about the Room?” “When I was returning to the common room after talking with Professor Dumbledore, I started walking back and forth, arguing with myself whether I should go back and, uh, talk with him some more. A door appeared in the blank wall, so I went in, and the room was set up exactly like I was thinking. I was really mad, so there were some dummies there. I blasted them.” The small boy snorted. “It helped.” “That is exactly the room I was going to talk to the headmaster about. Since you’ve already found it — you do understand how the room works?” He nodded. “Then, you can go there when things get too much for you. Just let me know, when you do that. We can train there, also. Is there anything else you do that allows you to get away and relax?” Harry couldn’t begin to stifle the smile that spread across his face. “Flying.” Minerva returned his smile. “I should have known. You do know your father was an excellent flyer. Played Chaser for Gryffindor. Did you want to fly?” Harry nodded his head enthusiastically. “Ginny and I would fly by moonlight. The moon is still pretty full, so it would be light enough. May I?” His professor looked at the boy, considering his request. Finally, she said, “Yes, this once, and, Harry, it is probably best if we do not tell anyone.” He smiled. “I understand. Thank you.” “One last question, how did you figure out how to make the door to my quarters appear?” Harry smiled again. “It took a little while, but when I saw the grey cat in the picture on the wall, I thought that might be it. I just pet her.” “Very good, Mr Potter, five points to Gryffindor for creative problem solving.” The mismatched pair quickly finished their tea, and the professor pocketed the two remaining biscuits, so they could share on the way to the Quidditch pitch and the shed where the school’s brooms were kept. Start ing at the top floor of The Burrow, Ginny Weasley walked through the house, stopping at the vacant bedrooms of each of her brothers, despite knowing she would find no one there. Finally, she entered the room across the hallway from her bedroom, the room of Harry Potter, her best friend. She sat down on his bed, which still contained a faint hint of him, that unique combination of boy, grass, earth, and a spiciness she’d recognize anywhere. Stop feeling like this. You knew they were going to leave. It happens every year. You knew Ron would be leaving this year and that you’d be on your own. Who am I kidding? As much as I miss my brothers, I miss Harry more. C’mon Weasley, it’s only been a day, and he’s already sent a letter, with the classes and homework, just like he promised. Well, it’s not doing me any good to mope up here. Maybe Mum will have some ideas what I can do. The young girl got up from the bed and went downstairs to the sitting room, where her mum was knitting and her dad was reading the Daily Prophet. Ginny sat down heavily on the sofa, next to her mum and sighed. Molly Weasley looked up from her knitting, waving her wand so the needles would continue the process while she talked with her daughter. She already knew without a single doubt what the problem was. Or problems were, since the first was the echoing silence of all her sons being gone for the first time. The second and bigger problem was the absence of the newest member of their family, Harry Potter. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You hardly ate any dinner at all.” Ginny sighed again. “I’m bored, I guess, with everybody gone.” Normally, she wouldn’t say anything close to that, since it was an invitation to her mum to assign chores, but even those would be better than her mopey, lethargic feeling. “It is a big change this year, with Ron finally going off to Hogwarts.” Molly peered at her daughter. “I would imagine it will take a while to adjust to everyone being gone, especially Harry.” Ginny’s head jerked up, then she tried to mask her reaction by saying, “It’s just a big change, going from a full house to just us.” Molly smiled. “I bet you’re going to miss the midnight flying with Harry.” Ginny’s head snapped up even more quickly this time. Molly’s smile remained in place. “Yes, I know you two were sneaking out and flying in the paddock area for the past week. I told Harry I knew before we put him on the train.” Molly laughed. “He reacted much like you did.” Ginny’s head dropped down so it was almost resting on her chest. With a full blush on her cheeks, she asked, “You’ve always known I’ve sneaked out?” “Yes, dear, since you started four years ago. I needed to make sure you were a good enough flyer that you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Both you and Harry are such natural flyers. You do things beyond any of your brothers, except maybe, Charlie. Oh, and don’t worry, I didn’t watch you all the time, every night; just enough to make sure you two were alright. Ginny, it’s understandable you’ll miss that and Harry. You’ve grown quite close.” Molly put her arm around her daughter. “You’ve been a great friend to him.” Ginny leaned into her mum, laying her head on her shoulder. “It kinda hurts, you know, like there’s a hole in my stomach. I just hope he’ll be okay at school.” Arthur moved over to the sofa and kneeled in front of his daughter, taking both of her hands in his. “If it helps, Firefly, I’m sure Harry misses you as much as you miss him.” “Oh!” Ginny said. “That reminds me. Harry wrote that he forgot and did wandless magic in Charms and had to see Professor Dumbledore.” Ginny saw the wide-eyed reaction of both of her parents. “It wasn’t on purpose. Ron asked him how he’d Levitated a feather, and Harry showed him. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten he’d set his wand on the desk. Everyone saw him do that.” “That’s unfortunate,” Arthur said, “even if it was accidental. I know the headmaster didn’t want that ability to be widely known” “What’s Legilimency?” Ginny asked. Both parents shook their head at the quick change in subjects. Molly asked, “Why do you want to know?” “Harry thinks Professor Dumbledore did that to him when they met yesterday. He described the feeling to Ron and some other Gryffindors, and one girl said it was Legilimency. But what is it?” Arthur frowned. “Legilimency is when one person enters the mind of another in order to see that person’s memories. Sometimes the person knows it is being done. Other times, permission is not requested. Professor Dumbledore is an accomplished Legilimens, but I strongly doubt he would enter a student’s mind without first asking.” Arthur looked at Molly and raised an eyebrow. Ginny shrugged. “Well, that’s what Harry wrote. It doesn’t sound like a nice thing to do without asking.” Molly perked up. “I know, Ginny. Why don’t you and I go out to the paddock, and you can fly?” Ginny’s head shot off her mum’s shoulder. “Really?” “Sure. You go to the shed and get a broom, and I’ll be out in a minute.” Ginny shot to her feet. “That’s great. Thanks, Mum.” The back screen door banged shut moments later. Molly turned to Arthur. “What do you think of all this?” Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. “It bothers me. Albus has a rocky relationship with Harry, so he could have wanted to gain some insight into what the boy was thinking.” “But Arthur, that’s just wrong,” Molly insisted. “Harry doesn’t trust Albus already. How do you think he’ll take this latest news, whether it’s correct or not?” “It will drive Harry even further away from Albus.” Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Albus has made some poor decisions as far as the boy is concerned. I think we should watch this very closely. We are his guardians, after all, and we need to ensure that Harry’s welfare is a priority.” Molly nodded her head. “I agree. The boy has enough to think about, without anything else being added.” “Good. That reminds me. Harry mentioned wanting to visit his houses soon. When you talk with Ginny, have her ask Harry when he wants to do that. I want to hear how he describes the feeling that he thinks was Legilimency.” “I’ll do that.” Molly walked out of the house and towards the shed, her maternal instincts consuming her. As the two Weasley witches walked to the paddock area, Ginny quickly agreed to ask her pen pal about the house visits and also said she’d ask about the feeling that occurred while he was in the headmaster’s office. “I’m going to write him when I’m done flying, so Hedwig can deliver it in the morning. Harry said her arrival during the Welcoming Feast caught everyone’s attention.” “Thanks, dear,” her mum said. “As long as you don’t mind, we would be very interested in hearing what Harry says.” “Oh, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when I get the letter.” They arrived at the paddock, and Ginny looked out across the grassy expanse, almost as if she were seeing a ghost. “You see him, don’t you?” Her mum asked, placing an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. Ginny nodded, while blinking rapidly. She mounted the broom, but before she kicked off, Molly said, “Picture Harry flying with you. It may help.” Ginny nodded her head and shot into the late summer sky, racing to the far end of the field, looping back, and speeding even faster towards her mum, who had sat down by her daughter’s favourite tree. “Wooo hooo!” The sound exploded from Ginny’s chest, as she followed the borders of the rectangular area, following the line carved by the fence, then staying just inside the trees on the three other sides. Next, she took the broom through a series of rolls, shallow high speed dives, and abrupt changes of direction, as Molly smiled at her daughter’s flying abilities. She’s already better than I was as a seventh year Chaser. She watched as Ginny did a continuous upward corkscrew, making the circles tighter as she moved higher in the night sky. After levelling out briefly at the top of the tallest trees, Ginny leaned forward and launched the broom into an almost vertical descent. Molly’s heart leapt to her throat as her daughter gained speed. With the grass approaching at a breakneck speed, Molly couldn’t hold back her raging emotions any longer. “Ahhhhh!” A second later, her daughter joined her mum in a tremulous two-part harmony. Molly forced herself to keep her eyes open and was both relieved and incredibly impressed when Ginny pulled out of the dive so close to the field her shoes brushed through the grass. Molly gulped air, finally aware that she had been holding her breath during the entire descent. After skimming along at ground level for twenty, thirty metres, Ginny pulled the broom up and made a lazy arc, moving back to the tree tops and slowly rotating in a circle, naming each of their stars, planets, and constellations. “Sirius, Bellatrix, Narcissus . . .” She started as a warm feeling encompassed her body inside and out. Immediately, she turned the broom so she was facing north, certain who had sent the feeling to her and smiling at that knowledge. With her breathing and adrenalin level back to normal, Ginny pointed the broom down in a shallow arc and returned to where her mum now stood open-mouthed. Landing several metres in front of her, Ginny’s grin overwhelmed the moonlight. “Merlin, that felt great,” she exulted. “That’s the first time I’ve done the Wronski at night without Harry here. Wait ‘til I tell him in the letter tonight.” As they walked back to The Burrow, the broom slung over her shoulder, Ginny said, “I wonder what Harry is doing tonight.” H arry looked down the row of school brooms and selected what he thought was the best one. All were slightly older Comets. He smiled at Professor McGonagall and exited the shed. Walking along the path to the Quidditch pitch, Harry began a story. “Just before we got on the train, Mrs Weasley told me she knew that Ginny and I had been flying at night. Ginny thought she’d been fooling everyone since she was six and started sneaking out and flying whenever the moon was bright enough and the weather okay. She was going to tell Ginny she didn’t have to hide it anymore. Ginny’s an incredible flyer.” Minerva smiled. “If you have not learned already, very little gets past Molly Weasley. After those boys, especially the twins, I can imagine she has developed a sixth sense for what is going on at The Burrow.” Harry snorted. “I think the twins got most of their talents from their mum.” The witch smiled. “You are probably right, Mr Potter.” They entered the pitch. “Please do not fly all night now.” Harry grinned and rocketed into the moonlit night, first speeding to one end of the stadium, looping over, and speeding back. His professor walked up a flight of stairs and sat on one of the benches so she could watch her young student more closely. ‘Wooo hooo!’ Harry thought to himself, knowing Professor McGonagall would be displeased if he had actually yelled with all the energy he felt. He traced the oval outline of the stadium, leaning into the gentle curves and trying to get maximum acceleration coming out of them. He moved the broom into the centre of the stadium and worked on a series of rolls, shallow high speed dives, and abrupt changes of direction, including flying directly at the stadium walls and getting as close as he could before curving away or rising above them. McGonagall smiled at Harry’s innate flying abilities. He could be one of the best Seekers we have seen since Charlie Weasley. Harry may already be better on a broom than James was. She watched as Harry sped the broom around the stadium, adding height with each turn, until he was well above the top of the stadium where he levelled off. The small boy leaned forward and launched the broom into an almost vertical descent. Minerva’s heart leapt to her throat, as Harry gained speed. With the grass approaching at a breakneck speed, Minerva gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. “Merlin!” she whispered to herself. She was mesmerized by the sheer artistry of the boy’s flying, the speed, control, and instinctive bonding with a broom he had never been on before. Minerva felt like leaping to her feet and applauding loudly when Harry pulled out of the dive so close to the field she could see his shoes separating the blades of grass. A very proprietary expression dominated the Gryffindor Head of House’s face. Harry slowed the broom down as he skimmed along the turf for twenty, thirty metres. He brought the front of the broom up and made a lazy arc, moving high above the top of the stadium and slowly rotating in a circle, naming each of his and Ginny’s stars, planets, and constellations. “Sirius, Bellatrix, Narcissus . . .” Facing to the south, a warm feeling surrounded him, forging a connection, he had no doubt, with his best friend. Though the feeling faded, his smile remained. Feeling better than he had all day, Harry pointed the broom down in a shallow arc and returned to the pitch where Professor McGonagall stood, the warmest smile he’d ever seen lighting her face. Landing several metres in front of her, Harry’s grin almost brought tears to her eyes. “Merlin, that felt great,” he said, his face alight. “Thank you, Professor. Wait ‘til I tell Ginny about this in my next letter.” He paused. “Is that okay, Professor?” The professor entertained his request for a moment. “Yes, you may. Please remind Miss Weasley that this information is for her only.” The witch smiled with her eyes. “Thank you!” “Now, Mr Potter, please tell me how you are able to perform a Wronski Feint of that calibre virtually in the dark?” Harry smiled to himself and launched into the description of the feelings he had when doing the Feint or any other manoeuvre, because conscious thought had nothing to do with the way he flew. As they walked back to the castle, the broom having been returned to the shed, Harry thought to himself, I wonder what Ginny is doing tonight. When they entered the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall said, “Your wandless lessons will continue next week, but I still need to select a time and day. You will be advised when I do.” The witch cast a spell that gave the time. “I will walk you to your common room, since you are out after curfew. Besides, I wish to speak to Wood.” Harry looked at her quizzically, but didn’t receive an answer to his unasked question. Who or what is ‘wood?’ The portrait opened automatically for the Head of House, and the witch and wizard entered the room, which immediately quieted as the students got sight of the professor. She stopped and looked around, before nodding. “Come with me, Potter.” Harry smiled at her return to the severe professor personality that dominated while she was in front of students at Hogwarts. They stopped by a tall, good looking wizard, who appeared to be a fifth or sixth year. He looked up, then quickly stood up. “Hi, Professor McGonagall.” “Wood, I’ve found you a Seeker.” The pronouncement was made loudly enough that almost everyone in the common room heard it and turned to stare at Harry. He tried with scant success to ignore the attention but the warm first feelings of a blush immediately began on his neck and quickly worked their way up to his cheeks, finally settling with a scorching presence on his forehead. Wood eyed him. “You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” The suddenly mute first year nodded his head. “The twins have been bugging me about giving him a tryout. They say he’s a natural Seeker.” “He is, Wood, maybe as good as Charlie Weasley already.” Professor McGonagall’s lips began to twitch. “How do you know this, Professor?” Wood asked. “Sheer dumb luck, Wood.” Finally, her smile broke through, looking just like a cat sneaking up on its unsuspecting prey. Wood’s smile reflected hers exactly. “The Cup will be ours again,” he whispered. “Don’t fail me, Wood. You know how much I hate that other House winning both the House and Quidditch Cups each year.” A moment of understanding passed between the Head of House and her Quidditch Captain. He nodded. “I will leave you, then.” She surveyed the room. “Don’t stay up too late, please. You will want to be well rested for your second day of classes.” With a brief nod to Wood and Harry, the professor left the common room. As soon as the portrait swung shut, noise broke like a wave over the room. Harry found himself surrounded by his Housemates, being pounded on the back, his hand shaken, and hearing repeated congratulations. Above the commotion, one voice stood out. “Harry will be the youngest Seeker in over a century.” All eyes turned to the redheaded speaker, the family’s Quidditch expert. Ron Weasley turned a spectacular red that seemed to engulf his entire head. Harry noticed that Hermione Granger had just closed her copy of Hogwarts: A History, but she couldn’t hide the small smile on her face. Harry looked at the witch, trying to figure her out, but another wave of verbal and physical congratulations swept over him, including a sneaky kiss on the cheek from a witch, who disappeared before he could see who it was. The commotion finally subsided, encouraged by Percy’s reminders that the next day was a school day. Ron and the twins escorted Harry to the First Years’ dorm, all three talking over the others. Ron couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, making Harry wonder if the Quidditch fanatic felt he would be that much closer to the House team through his roommate being on the team. The bookends launched into twin-speak. “Wood is crazy . . .” “. . . nuttier than a fruitcake. But . . .” “. . . he’s an excellent Keeper, though . . .” “. . . his practices are legendary, . . .” “. . . and that’s before we leave the locker room.” Harry’s eyes swept from George to Fred and back again. “What?” “Wood is fanatical.” “He spends as much time on diagramming plays, as practicing them.” “So, be ready for the team to take a lot of your spare time.” “But it will be mainly as we get closer to the actual games.” “You see, there are only three games per season. One against each of the other houses.” “You should be fine, especially since you’ve already read through third year.” “Welcome to the team, Harrikins.” Both twins chorused and rubbed his head, as if it would bring them good luck. “Good night, firsties.” Ron shook his head. “At least you’re already familiar with the twins. Otherwise, that performance could have done some damage.” The two boys entered their dormitory, and after another round of congratulations from their roommates, quickly prepared for bed. Lying in the four-poster, Harry stared at the shadowy canopy above him. What a roller coaster this day has been, from the wandless mistake in Charms and the meeting with Dumbledore to learning about the Room of Requirement and making the Quidditch team. With everything that’s going on, it might be best if I try to blend in more, so I won’t attract as much attention. Wonder if I’ll stay the entire night in this bed. Somehow, it feels a bit more comfortable tonight. |
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