You'll find out very quickly who greeted Ron and Harry as they left the Room of Requirement. There were some very good guesses, by the way.
Thanks, as always, to the wonderful cwarbeck for her beta work.
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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: 340845; Chapter Total: 13055 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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“Hi Professor McGonagall,” Harry replied cheerfully despite the witch’s stern expression. “We visited the Potter houses today.” The professor’s usually unflappable demeanour wasn’t strong enough to withstand the shocking response the young wizard had just provided. Her stern expression turned into one of sheer incredulity. “The Potter houses?” she finally uttered. Both boys vigorously nodded their heads. “All four,” Ron explained. Harry named the specific properties. “Fortuna, Godric’s Hollow . . .” the professor gasped, “the Lake District retreat, and a townhouse in Notting Hill.” Harry stopped and looked with concern at this Head of House. “Are you okay, Professor?” Both he and Ron walked towards Minerva McGonagall, whose breathing had become shallow and laboured. “Should we get the school nurse?” Harry asked quietly, extending his hand towards her shoulder, then abruptly pulling it back when he realized where they were. “No. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern, though.” The professor looked around, suddenly aware of her surroundings. “Let’s go to my classroom. We have several issues to discuss, and this is not the proper place.” The two young wizards nodded and followed the rapid footsteps of their professor. Arriving at the Transfiguration classroom, she told the boys to sit in the front row. The witch stood in front of them, once more the imposing professor. “Explain, please, Mr Potter. Mr Weasley, fill in whenever you feel it is appropriate.” She briefly held each boy’s eyes in order to convey the serious nature of the discussion. Harry began. “I found out that I had inherited four properties when I went to Gringotts before school started.” He paused and quickly decided to mention only the houses and not the other things he learned during the visit with the goblins. Otherwise, he figured, the discussion could become way too complicated. “We made plans to visit the houses with Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley, and I cleared it with the goblins, so the wards wouldn’t hurt them. Then, we went to The Burrow this morning and just got back from seeing the houses.” The professor’s eyes had widened considerably while Harry spoke. “How did you get to The Burrow, then to each of the four houses, and finally back to Hogwarts?” “Oh, it was easy,” Ron said. “We just went into that room and Floo’d from the fireplace.” Minerva McGonagall’s eyes moved from the redhead to Harry. She arched an eyebrow. Harry shrugged. “I just asked the room to provide a fireplace and Floo connection to The Burrow and told it we would return around five.” Ron looked at his roommate like he had begun speaking a foreign language. “You asked the room?” “That’s neither here nor there, Mr Weasley.” The professor returned her gaze to the smaller boy. “I thought you would have known better, Mr Potter.” Harry couldn’t hide his surprise or the sting from his professor’s remark. “I thought it would be okay, Professor,” he replied in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” “We can discuss your decision later, Mr Potter.” Her voice contained enough warmth to stop the boy’s stomach from plummeting any further. “Please continue.” “We arrived at The Burrow, then used the keys the goblins gave me to portkey to the houses.” “The manor house was incredible,” Ron blurted. “I’ve been there before,” the professor admitted. “Both the house and the grounds are lovely.” A curious expression suddenly appeared on her face. “What condition were the house and grounds in?” “Perfect.” Harry smiled as images of Fortuna immediately came to his mind. “It was like it had been cleaned just before we got there. All the houses were like that. Same with the outside. Everything looked great.” “I wonder . . .” Professor McGonagall said to herself, then shook her head. “Perhaps the bank goblins made arrangements since they knew when you would be visiting the houses.” “That’s what I thought,” Harry said. “I could ask Griphook if you want me to.” The professor waved her hand. “Oh, no. No need to do that. I was just curious.” The professor’s demeanour returned to that of a stern disciplinarian. “Gentlemen, are you aware that students are not allowed off the Hogwarts grounds without permission?” The boys’ gobsmacked expressions eliminated the need for them to explain. “Apparently not.” McGonagall shook her head. “At least you did not knowingly go out and break the rule.” Her eyes softened. “Boys, you had the castle in an uproar. Mr Potter, you told Hermione Granger that you were going out flying. Is that not true?” “Yes, Professor. I didn’t want anyone to know I had these houses. I get enough attention as it is, and I didn’t want them to have something else to talk about.” Harry’s voice became much softer. “I should have trusted Hermione.” Ron snorted. “I’m sorry, Professor.” The boy’s head descended towards his chest. “Perhaps that would have been the better choice, Mr Potter. Miss Granger thought it would have been nice to watch you and Mr Weasley on the Nimbus. She panicked when she could not find either of you and asked Mr Weasley’s brothers if they knew where you had gone. Suffice it to say, the search grew rapidly from there, with the headmaster, Professor Lupin, most of Gryffindor, your friends in the other Houses, and myself. We even tried to firecall your parents, Mr Weasley.” The boy’s head jerked up. “Obviously, we were unsuccessful.” “I should have told you.” Harry’s head remained bowed. “Mr Potter, we all make better decisions with the advantage of hindsight.” She looked sternly at the two boys. “As long as you did not know leaving the grounds required permission, my primary concern is eliminated.” Both boys exhaled heavily. “That does not mean your activities will go unpunished. I will speak with the headmaster to determine what, if anything, is appropriate. Professor Dumbledore or I will let you know what our decision is quite soon, I would imagine.” Harry fought the heavy feeling that he had disappointed his favourite adult at Hogwarts. When he looked at the professor, she appeared to be blurry. He blinked rapidly to absorb the moisture. Despite the numb feeling throughout his body, Harry whispered, “I’m really sorry, Professor.” He swallowed heavily, trying to keep the flood of emotions under control. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” Ron added quickly. “Thank you, boys. You might be prepared for a rocky reception when you return to the common room. Your friends and Housemates spent a goodly portion of their Saturday looking for you. They may not be that happy when you return and they find out where you were.” Harry looked at the professor and then Ron. “I really don’t want to tell anyone that we went to the houses. Could we just say we went to The Burrow instead?” “Mr Potter, please consider the consequences of telling an untruth on top of not telling anyone where you were going. I think you know what path I would recommend.” “I think I do know, Professor.” He looked at Ron. “We should tell them we visited my family’s houses with your parents and sister.” Ron nodded his head. “That should be more than sufficient, Mr Potter. Now, no more stalling, gentlemen. Time to meet your friends. Besides, it is almost dinnertime. I do trust we will not have a meeting like this for quite some time.” Both boys nodded energetically and got up from their chairs. “Try to have a quiet rest of the day, boys.” Harry moved his hand slightly in her direction. She glanced at the boy’s hand, then down at hers, moving it slightly in acknowledgment. “We will, Professor,” Harry said. “Thanks for everything.” “Yeah, thanks,” Ron chorused. Seconds later, they left the classroom and hurried down the hallway. “That wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be,” Ron crowed. “I thought we’d have detention for months. Half the school looking for us?” Harry looked sharply at the lanky redhead. “Professor McGonagall still has to talk with Dumbledore. He may decide to punish us.” Ron’s expression quickly changed from elation to anger. “You’re right. And it’s all because that bloody busybody, Hermione Granger. If she hadn’t stuck her nose in where it wasn’t wanted, we wouldn’t have had any problems. But no, she had to ask all around and even bring McGonagall into it. If she’d been Sorted into Ravenclaw like she should’ve been, none of this would have happened. Merlin, what if we end up having detention with Malfoy?” Harry bit his tongue. He had learned early in his stay at The Burrow not to argue with Ron when he was wound up and on a tirade. He decided it would be more effective to say good things about Hermione once Ron had calmed down. The two first year wizards stopped in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. Harry looked at Ron. “We probably should thank everyone for looking for us, plus the people in the other Houses.” Ron gulped, then nodded his head. “Ready?” They gave the password to the Fat Lady and entered the common room. The buzz of conversation stilled as heads began to turn in their direction. Soon, the whispers and pointing began. Harry squeezed his eyes closed to steel himself for the uncomfortable cross-examination. When he opened them again, two actions divided his attention. To his left, Harry saw the three Weasley brothers get up from their respective tables and begin to walk towards him and Ron. But it was the second sight that caused his jaw to drop. Seconds later, Hermione Granger skidded to a stop a millimetre from the wide-eyed boy and wrapped him in a huge hug. “I was so worried about you,” she whispered. “You’re okay? Nothing bad happened?” Harry pulled back slightly. “We’re fine, Hermione.” He dropped his voice so only she could hear. “I’ll tell you everything later. Okay?” Her eyes lit up. “Okay.” Hermione stepped back. “Ron, you’re alright?” The redhead glared at the young witch, but his brothers grabbed his attention before he could respond. “More important than if you are alright, where were you two?” Percy demanded. The twins looked at the two younger boys with a mixture of curiosity, some anger, and even a touch of admiration. Harry stepped forward. “It was my fault. I wanted to see my family’s houses. We went with your parents and Ginny.” The room went silent. The majority of students probably assumed they had gone to Godric’s Hollow and knew what it represented. The few who didn’t know learned immediately, as several hushed conversations started up right after Harry’s admission. Percy and the twins deflated, their anger dissipating quickly. Percy said, but in a much softer voice. “Tell us next time you plan to do something like that.” Both younger boys nodded, and the three older Weasley brothers returned to their seats. Ron walked over to Seamus and Dean and sat down at their table. “C’mon, Hermione, let’s talk.” They walked over to the table where Hermione had been sitting by herself, and Harry cast a Silencing Charm, using his wand and muttering Silencio. Hermione looked at him in surprise but soon sat down, as Harry had. “I owe you an apology, Hermione.” He smiled as the brown-haired witch prepared to disagree. “Let me explain. I should have told you what we were doing instead of saying we were going flying.” He stared at the girl. “I won’t do that again, and I’m really sorry that you were so worried.” Hermione’s mouth fell open, then she blinked rapidly. “When you weren’t at the stadium, I panicked. I just thought . . . maybe . . . something had happened.” Her voice grew softer. “I’m sorry, Harry.” “You did the right thing.” Harry smiled at his friend. “It never would have happened if I had told you the truth.” Harry proceeded to tell his friend about his meeting with the Gringotts goblins, while accompanied by Mr Weasley and Ginny, but only mentioned the four houses specifically. “Hermione, the only reason I found out they existed was due to the goblins. I don’t think Dumbledore would have told me.” Hermione peered at the boy for several seconds. “You don’t trust him, do you?” Harry thought about his friend’s question before replying. “I guess I don’t. Dumbledore’s hard to figure out. Most of the time, he doesn’t have anything to do with me, like when he left me with my relatives for ten years and never checked to see what was happening. Then he shows up and moves me to the Weasleys’ the same day. He never talked to me, just made the decisions and expected me to go along with them. You know?” Hermione had been concentrating on the boy’s every word. “It’s like he wants to make the decisions affecting you, but not take the time to explain them or even to get to know you.” Harry smiled. “That’s it exactly. I didn’t know I was a wizard for all that time, until he showed up on my birthday . . .” “July thirty-first.” Hermione grinned at her friend. Harry grinned back. “Then he tells me I can’t do wandless magic, even though it feels right for me. He either wants nothing to do with me or he gets too close. It’s kind of creepy. And I still can’t figure out how he is able to make these decisions for me. Didn’t my parents tell him what they wanted? Who gave him the right to do this?” Hermione’s eyes took on a distant look as she pondered her friend’s questions. “Maybe the wizarding world has laws about kids who lost their parents. Your relatives couldn’t do anything for you in this world, so maybe a wizarding court appointed Professor Dumbledore.” Harry thought about that for several moments. “Could be. I just wish I knew what my parents had wanted. I can’t believe they would have wanted me to live with my relatives. They had to have known how much they hated magic.” Hermione said softly, “I hope you find out some day.” “Thanks.” He looked around the room and noticed that many of the students were moving to the Portrait hole. “Want to go to dinner?” “With a reckless rule-breaker? I don’t know.” She smiled at the boy. “Very funny, Granger.” He smiled back, dispelled the Silencing Charm, and they followed the other Gryffindors out of the room. As soon as Harry and Ron walked into the Great Hall, with Hermione and the other Gryffindor first years, several students from each of the other three Houses made a beeline to them and started asking questions all at once. Harry instinctively backed away from the pressing throng, but he quickly found his back pressed against the wall by the entrance doors. Harry could feel himself shrinking inside, almost like the group was an appendage that could be used to punish him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and began to drip down his back, causing an itchy, prickling sensation that was multiplied by the group of students pressing in on him and Ron. “Give them some room.” A strong, authoritative — and female — voice cut through the chatter, causing the students to stare wide-eyed at Hermione Granger. Harry looked at Hermione in gratitude, while Ron glanced at her curiously. The students shuffled back a few steps and looked expectantly at the witch. “Thank you, that’s much better.” She looked at Harry and Ron and nodded for them to explain what happened. Harry looked at the students in the group and realized they weren’t just curious gossips. These are my friends. They were worried about us. Padma, Su, and Anthony from Ravenclaw, the Hufflepuffs, Hannah and Susan, and Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise from Slytherin looked at Harry with both concern and relief showing on their faces. Hermione remained standing beside him. Ron nudged his shoulder. When Harry looked at him, the redhead whispered, “Go ahead. You tell them.” Harry turned and looked at his friends. “Thanks for helping look for us. We’re sorry we caused you to lose some of your weekend.” He took a deep breath. “I kind of made a mistake.. I didn’t know I needed permission to leave Hogwarts. I wanted to see my family’s houses,” an audible intake of air came from several of the students, “so Ron and his family — his parents and Ginny — were nice enough to go with me.” He tried to smile. “So, it wasn’t anything mysterious or exciting. I, uh, didn’t think it would cause such a reaction. Sorry.” Harry looked around the group, and saw that Ron and Hermione were doing the same thing. No one seemed to be upset or angry. In fact, Harry thought, they all looked calm and understanding. Another wave of emotions broke over him, but these were warm and reassuring. Harry looked briefly at each of the eight students from the other Houses. “It,” he took a deep breath, “it means a lot that you would . . . do this. Thanks.” Hannah and Tracey were the first two students to move towards Harry, but they were quickly joined by the other six. They squeezed his hand or patted his shoulder, smiled, and whispered words of welcome and relief. Some did the same to Ron, then returned to their tables, aware that they had been watched by their fellow students. Only Hermione Granger noticed that Albus Dumbledore had watched closely as the scene played out, an increasingly irritated expression on his face, until he returned his usual grandfatherly public appearance. As dinner began to wind down, Albus Dumbledore walked over to the Gryffindor table. “Mr Potter, would you please come to my office once you are finished with dinner?” “Yes, sir.” Dumbledore smiled and looked at the students surrounding Harry. “Good. I will see you soon, then.” As soon as the headmaster had left the hall, Hermione whispered, “Harry, he watched you the entire time the other students were around you and Ron.” She paused. “He looked very upset.” Her eyes took on a pleading look. “Be careful, Harry. It worries me that he didn’t ask Ron to come, too.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Hermione,” he whispered back. “I’ll try to keep my temper under control.” He grinned at his friend. “Prat,” she said quietly. “Yup.” He got up from the table and looked at the other first years. “Well, I guess I should go see the headmaster.” Amid the well wishes from the Gryffindors, Harry walked out of the hall, trying to stretch his back muscles that suddenly seemed to have become very tight. Again, Harry approached the gargoyle that guarded the stairs to the headmaster’s office. The boy stopped in front of the statue. “I’m sorry to do this again, but the headmaster asked me to see him after dinner, but he didn’t give me the password. Oh, I’m Harry Potter, if you need to check if it’s okay to let me up.” Harry could have sworn he saw the statue smile briefly, but it was so fleeting his imagination could have been playing tricks on him. Seconds later, the gargoyle moved to the side of the stairs, and with a flourish, waved the boy through. “Thank you, gargoyle,” Harry called back, as he rode the moving stairs up to the office. The usual early greeting was still missing, so Harry dropped the doorknocker against the metal plate and waited for the headmaster to open the door. Moments later, the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore greeted the first year student. “Ah, there you are, Mr Potter. Please come in.” The wizard gestured grandly towards the interior of the circular office. “Thank you, sir.” As they sat in their respective chairs, Professor Dumbledore held out the candy dish and its usual lemon drops. Harry declined with a quick shake of his head. “Well, Harry, it sounded like you had quite the adventure earlier today,” the headmaster said. “We had a fun day. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone what we were doing, but neither of us knew we couldn’t leave the grounds. Oh, did you want to see Ron after me?” “No. I’m sure I will obtain all the information I require by talking with you. But it does look like we will need to keep a closer eye on you, Harry,” Dumbledore said, with a teasing tone to his voice. “Why is that, sir? We understand we can’t leave without permission. It won’t happen again.” Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “True. But there are so many areas in the wizarding world with which you are still unfamiliar.” Harry felt the heat of his anger flare inside him. His forehead and back immediately broke out in sweat. I need to hold my temper. I can’t let him get to me. When the boy finally spoke, his voice was very cold. “Maybe it would have been better if you had kept a closer eye on me while I was with the Dursleys. If I had learned about the wizarding world and myself back then, it wouldn’t be a concern now.” Dumbledore smiled in his grandfatherly way. “Ah, Harry, it is easy with hindsight to make a statement like that.” “No, sir, I could have told you that as soon as I learned to talk.” Harry knew his eyes were blazing, and he consciously tried to take deep breaths so he could calm down. The wizard’s face momentarily conveyed both anger and surprise. Albus Dumbledore stared at his eleven-year old student, shocked by the boy’s direct statement, but even more, embarrassed by its truth. He quickly doused the flare of anger that a mere child would question his decisions, and worse, that the boy would be correct in his assessment. The headmaster instead put on his grandfatherly smile. “You are more than likely correct, Harry. Many things in the past would be better if we could go back and change them. Unfortunately, we can’t, so let’s concentrate on our current situation.” Just breathe deeply. Don’t let him get to you. Harry looked at the headmaster as neutrally as he could, trying to hide his rising anger and stay as calm as he could. He inclined his head towards the headmaster. “As I’m sure you are aware, Harry, we need to address your excursion. It gave us quite the scare . . .” “It won’t happen again, Headmaster. I should have told someone, like Hermione, the twins, or Professor McGonagall.” “Or requested permission from me.” Harry nodded his head. “I was surprised by the extent of response from the students. I would have expected Percy and the Weasley twins and perhaps a few of the other Gryffindor first years. But many of your Housemates helped to look for you. Even more startling was the response from the other Houses. A sizable number of first years from each House spent a great deal of time searching the castle and grounds. “Harry, I have to ask you. What is your intent in seeking friendships outside your House?” The headmaster’s eyes had lost their customary twinkle. “I don’t understand, sir. Is there a rule against talking with students from other Houses?” Dumbledore’s expression showed annoyance at the question, then just as quickly became neutral. “No, of course not, Harry. I was just curious, since you seem to have a plan to befriend students in all the Houses. It is unusual to do so, especially for a first year student.” Harry looked quizzically at the professor. “I don’t have any plan, sir. It’s just a combination of things. Daphne and Tracey came by when we were on the train, so Ron and I just wanted to say ‘hi’ once we got here. Susan Bones’ family is related to mine, and with the Ravenclaws, I wanted to see if Michael Corner was doing okay. The others started asking questions. That’s about it.” The headmaster gazed at his student for several moments, before speaking without his usual warmth. “How did you know Susan Bones’ family was related to yours?” “When I went to Gringotts Bank with Mr Weasley and Ginny before school started, Ragnok and Griphook told me.” Dumbledore’s look of shock quickly became one of anger, but his voice remained surprisingly calm. “If you were just withdrawing funds from your School Vault, why would they talk with you? They normally do not involve themselves in mundane transactions like that.” Harry shrugged. “We were waiting in line. Griphook took us back to an office. Ragnok joined us right after that. They told us about my family, the assets they were looking after, the houses we visited today, and then Griphook took us to my Family Vault. I learned a lot of things I hadn’t known existed before.” Harry stopped suddenly at the headmaster’s reaction. He pushed the chair back half a metre, so he could escape more quickly should the headmaster start to do something. The boy could feel his insides crashing, just like they would when he knew his uncle was upset. He felt the same types of emotions coming from the headmaster. What’s wrong with Dumbledore? Why is he upset that the goblins talked with me? “Harry, I am very disappointed that Ragnok and Griphook decided to reveal this information to you.” The headmaster’s statement brought a chill to the office. The boy’s head snapped back in surprise. “Why?” “I feel it is inappropriate for the goblins to share such information with an eleven-year old, especially one who is already adjusting to a number of new situations,” Albus Dumbledore said in a calm, thoughtful voice that contradicted the blazing fire in his eyes. Harry stared at the elderly wizard for several moments. “Maybe they thought that’s why they should tell me, that it would help to know my family’s history and the houses and other stuff.” “Well, I do wish they had consulted with me before telling you.” Harry couldn’t hide the curious feeling that came over him. “Were they supposed to get your approval first?” “No. My formal authority only extends to educational matters, but they knew I had taken an interest in your well-being.” “Oh, you don’t have to worry, then. They were very interested in making sure the Family money was earning as much interest as possible, and they made sure that the paperwork on the properties was completed. I think they even had the houses cleaned before we visited. They wanted to make sure I was aware of everything that had come to me . . . when, you know . . . my parents died.” Albus Dumbledore grimaced. “Had the goblins followed the approach I would have preferred, you would not have left the Hogwarts grounds and needlessly worried everyone. Furthermore, you would not now be burdened by the ownership of four houses or the other contents of your Family Vault. I have to insist, Harry, that you do not leave the school grounds again without receiving permission from me. I also think that banning you from playing Quidditch may be an appropriate punishment.” The headmaster’s words tore through Harry’s heart like a knife, leaving him able only to stare at the old wizard. His mind locked, unable to think of anything other than Dumbledore’s comment to ban him from playing Quidditch. Finally, Harry regained his ability to speak. “I don’t understand why you would ban me from playing Quidditch. We didn’t know we couldn’t leave the grounds. We didn’t go off on our own. Instead, we went with Mr and Mrs Weasley. I’ve apologized to everyone.” The boy looked at the man with bewildered eyes. “Why would you do this?” “Harry, it underscores the need for me to be more involved in your life, especially as it pertains to Hogwarts. This is but one example. We will talk later. You may return to your common room.” Harry knew he was being dismissed, yet he couldn’t move. His decision doesn’t make any sense. Why would he ban me from Quidditch? That’ll hurt everyone on the team and the entire House. Harry stared at the elderly wizard, who dispassionately returned his gaze. He wants everyone to be mad at me. I can’t believe he would do something like that. Harry got up from his chair, stared briefly at the headmaster, and left the office without another word. The small boy aimlessly wandered the hallways, his stomach feeling like acid had burned a huge hole in it, even though the rest of his body felt numb. This punishment doesn’t make any sense. Harry’s eyes widened, as the answer jolted his body. Dumbledore got upset only after I told him what the goblins had told me. He didn’t want me to know my family history, about the Family Vault and everything in it, or about the houses. The boy stopped abruptly, unaware of his surroundings. Why wouldn’t he want me to know these things? A familiar feeling returned to Harry Potter. He’s hiding something from me. It’s easier to do that if I don’t know anything about my family. Merlin, did he keep me at the Dursleys’ for that reason? Not because of the blood wards, but because it would keep me out of the wizarding world? I could have stayed with the Weasleys, probably with Neville or Susan Bones’ family or Daphne’s. I bet a lot of wizarding families would have taken me in. Professor Lupin could have kept me. We could have stayed at any of these houses. And money wasn’t a problem. There’s more money than I could ever spend in those vaults. What’s Dumbledore up to? When Harry finally looked up, he was shocked to see he was standing in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Well hello, dear, you’re looking lost again. I hope it’s not another problem with a witch.” Harry blinked several times at the unexpected words, then focused on the lady in the painting. “Oh, no, that’s not the problem.” When the portrait swung open, he added, “Thank you.” “Harry!” Ron ran over to him, quickly followed by Hermione. Several other first years walked over but stopped several metres from the trio. “What did Dumbledore say?” The words poured out of Ron’s mouth in his excitement. Harry winced when he felt the knife turn again in his heart. “He banned me from playing Quidditch,” the small boy whispered. Within seconds, everyone in the common room had heard the devastating news. The crowd around Harry grew rapidly. “What!” Every head in the room turned towards the source of the exclamation. Oliver Wood’s complexion quickly moved from a ghostly white to increasingly darker shades of crimson. The students parted as the furious captain of the House Quidditch team marched towards his Seeker, the rest of the team struggling to keep up with him. “Team meeting. Now,” he barked. Looking around, he determined that the sofa and chairs in front of the fireplace would meet his needs. “Over there,” he commanded, pointing in that direction. The several students who were sitting there got up and moved without a word. The team, plus Ron and Hermione, followed the captain. When they all sat down, Wood looked at the two non-playing first years with both curiosity and irritation. “I’d like them to stay, Oliver,” Harry said quietly. “Oh, uh, sure.” He shook his head. “What’s this about you being banned from Quidditch? We haven’t even practiced yet. Potter, I never had you pegged as a trouble-maker.” The explosion of protests almost knocked the Keeper off his chair. When the noise subsided, Harry looked around. “You all know that Ron and I left the school grounds today.” Everyone nodded. “We didn’t know we couldn’t do that.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Dumbledore called me into his office and told me my punishment was being banned from Quidditch.” Harry’s explanation was met by eight shocked sets of eyes. “What did he say about me?” Ron asked in an unusually small voice. “He said he only needed to talk with me. You’re okay.” Ron looked at Harry as if he couldn’t believe him. “That’s not fair, Harry. We both left the grounds.” Ron shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.” “For once, our youngest brother shows he has a brain.” Fred ignored Ron’s frown. “The punishment doesn’t fit what you did,” George said. “And why would you get such a huge punishment, and Ron gets nothing? Did anything else come up with Dumbledore?” Harry shook his head. I can’t tell them about the houses, the Family Vault, and all the other stuff. “He was just really upset that I hadn’t checked with anyone.” “Did he give you the impression you were taking advantage of your fame?” Hermione asked quietly. All eyes quickly turned to her, but Ron was the first to speak. “What kind of question is that? Who invited you anyway?” Ron’s face had quickly turned red. Hermione reacted to Ron’s questions with both defiance and hurt feelings. Ron continued to glare at her. “I invited her, Ron,” Harry answered quietly but with surprising strength. The small boy’s eyes moved to his bushy-haired friend. “That is a good question, Hermione. The answer is no. Dumbledore didn’t mention anything like that. I would have understood better if he had. Something else was bothering him.” Wood had started to shift uncomfortably in his chair during the exchanges among the three first years. “I’m going to go to Professor McGonagall. She’ll straighten this out.” He looked at Harry. “You really did a Wronski from two-hundred metres up?” Harry shrugged, then nodded his head. Wood got up with fire in his eyes. “We can’t lose you.” He stalked towards the Portrait hole. All the others, including Ron, returned to where they had been sitting before the announcement. Hermione moved over to the sofa and sat next to Harry. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?” she whispered. Harry smiled and cast a Silencing spell around them. “Yes. Dumbledore became upset when he learned that the goblins had told me about my family history, my inheritance, and other things.” Hermione leaned towards her friend, her eyes intently focused. “He said he wished they hadn’t told me about those things; that it was too much for an eleven-year old.” “Did you feel overwhelmed when you were told?” Hermione asked. “No.” Harry shook his head at the memory. “I felt angry that this information had been kept from me. If Griphook hadn’t taken me out of the line, I still wouldn’t know. What I don’t understand is why Dumbledore cares about this and why it upset him so much. The punishment doesn’t fit what we did.” Hermione’s concentration deepened. Finally, she said, “If he’d punished both of you — and with something more reasonable — no one would have said anything. But this is just about you, not Ron.” She paused for several moments. “So it’s like Professor Dumbledore is trying to teach you a lesson. Does that sound right?” Harry thought about Hermione’s comments. “You’re right. It’s like he wants to put me in a box.” Hermione nodded. “Oh, he did mention something else. He asked what my intentions were in trying to make friends outside of Gryffindor. It really bothered him for some reason.” Hermione looked perplexed. “You would think he would encourage inter-House friendships.” The young witch shook her head. “I’ll have to think about that one.” She looked sharply at Harry. “They may be related. If I can find a common theme between them, we might have an answer.” Harry smiled again at his friend. “That’s why I wanted you to join us.” He hesitated, then ploughed on. “I’m really sorry Ron is treating you the way he is. I don’t understand it.” Hermione visibly deflated. “I’m used to it. That’s how I was treated in school. Thanks, though, for everything you’re doing.” “He’ll come around — sooner or later.” Harry cancelled the Silencing spell, and seconds later, both he and Hermione turned towards the Portrait hole. “Mr Potter, I wish to speak with you.” The normally tightly controlled Professor Minerva McGonagall marched towards them at such a surprising speed Wood had to trot to keep up. The professor’s expression could only be described as outraged. “Miss Granger, if we may have some privacy?” the professor asked, in way of a command. Hermione got up, but Harry quickly asked, “Can she stay? She knows most of what happened and has some good ideas.” McGonagall’s eyes shifted several times between the two first years. “Yes, Miss Granger may remain, if you want her to.” Harry turned to Hermione. “Okay?” She smiled and whispered, “Thank you, Harry.” The young witch sat down on the sofa next to her friend. The professor looked around at the furniture, shook her head, conjured a straight-backed wooden chair, and sat down. “Thank you, Wood. I will speak with Mr Potter and let you know what, if anything, I will do.” Wood started to say something, reconsidered, and walked back to the table he had been sitting at previously. The witch cast a Silencing spell. “Miss Granger, I have said this to Mr Potter already, so this is for your benefit. On rare occasions, I feel it is beneficial to have conversations with certain students that go outside the normal range of student-professor discourse. This is one of those times. I feel I can do that with you and trust that you will not cause me disappointment in making this decision.” The professor’s eyes pierced the young witch’s. “Thank you, Professor McGonagall. You can trust me.” The professor’s expression softened long enough for the girl to relax a bit, and her first question was asked in a soft voice. “Please tell me everything that happened, Harry. Don’t leave anything out.” Ten minutes later, Harry completed the recitation of his visit with the headmaster. The professor sat quietly, a look of concentration dominated her face, but it also was mixed with anger. “The punishment does not make sense in light of everything you have said. You and Mr Weasley made a dumb mistake,” Harry briefly closed his eyes and nodded, “but it could hardly be considered a serious one. It also was well within my jurisdiction to determine what, if anything, should be done. As you know, I had decided not to punish you and Mr Weasley this time.” “Professor?” Hermione’s voice almost squeaked. “May I express an opinion?” McGonagall’s curious look quickly softened. “Yes, please do, Hermione.” The young witch smiled at her professor. “Could the headmaster be . . . jealous of Harry?” Harry gawked at his friend, but the professor seriously considered her idea. “I hadn’t thought of the headmaster’s reactions in that context, but now that you have suggested the possibility . . . there is a certain consistency that could be explained in that manner. Excellent thinking, Hermione. Five points to Gryffindor.” The girl beamed at the compliments and the points she had won for her House. “I will reiterate, though I am sure, it is not needed. You will be Miss Granger the next time we speak, and you will be treated the same as any other student. I trust that will not be an issue.” The smallest of smiles briefly graced the professor’s lips. “It will not be an issue, Professor.” Despite the serious tone of her answer, Hermione could not hold back her smile. “Harry, I will speak with the headmaster at my earliest opportunity and will let you know of any changes that may result.” Her voice softened. “Try not to let it get you down.” The witch stood up, cancelled the conjured wooden chair and Silencing spell. “Good night, Miss Granger. Mr Potter, please walk with me to the Portrait hole.” Harry tried to hold back his surprise but got up quickly and accompanied the now stern-looking witch outside the common room. “I have a question I didn’t think appropriate to ask in front of Miss Granger. When you and I visited Diagon Alley during the summer, did the goblin that took us to your vault suggest you meet again?” Harry looked at his professor in amazement. “Yes! Griphook said they had a lot to discuss with me, but he didn’t think then was the time to talk. I went back when the Weasleys went to buy their school supplies. I asked Mr Weasley and Ginny if they would go with me. That’s when Griphook saw us and pulled us into the office.” The professor cocked her head to one side. “You trust Mr Weasley and Ginny.” Harry immediately nodded his head. “Yes.” “Thank you for answering my questions. All of the information you provided will be very helpful when I ask Professor Dumbledore to reconsider his decision. Good night, Harry.” “Good night, Professor. Thanks for helping out.” As Minerva McGonagall walked back to her quarters, two very different thoughts occupied her. The first was positive and reflected her growing opinion that there were several very special students in the first year class. The second had become an increasing concern and had to do with her friend and mentor. Could his behaviour be explained by jealousy of an eleven-year old boy, whose destiny could eclipse even that of the esteemed headmaster? When Harry returned to the common room, he saw the four Weasley boys surrounding Hermione. As he approached the group, Harry heard Percy saying, “While I don’t condone rule breaking under any circumstances, the fact remains that this rule was not communicated to either Ron or Harry. It could be argued they did nothing wrong. I don’t understand the headmaster’s reaction or the level of punishment. I do hope that Professor McGonagall can straighten this out.” “Thanks, Percy,” Harry said as he sat down next to Hermione. “Harry,” George said. “We’re sending a letter to Mum and Dad about your punishment. They need to know what’s going on.” Harry winced, then mumbled, “I don’t want to make a big deal about this.” Several voices responded immediately. Fred, Percy, and Hermione stopped in mid-sentence and looked at each other. The two younger students deferred to the prefect. “Harry, it is a big deal, to use your term,” Percy said quietly. “Mum and Dad need to know what is happening, especially since none of us think the headmaster is being fair. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore is not comfortable sharing something with you that he would say to our parents, which would explain his actions. Regardless, banning you from the Quidditch team is something they need to know.” Percy’s expression softened. “Don’t worry about their reaction. I think they’ll understand you didn’t knowingly do anything wrong. We’ll send Hermes tonight. I would imagine they would respond tomorrow. Perhaps even as early as tomorrow morning, since I will instruct Hermes to deliver the letter immediately and not wait for the morning.” Hermione had been nodding her head in agreement with Percy’s comments. “He’s right, Harry. Mr and Mrs Weasley would want to know. They probably would be hurt if this information was withheld from them.” Percy and the twins nodded, but Ron scowled at the witch. Just as he was about to speak, Percy said, “I will write the letter and send it.” He looked at his brothers, who all nodded their agreement. “Try not to worry about this, Harry. Professor McGonagall and our parents may be able to help.” Percy nodded his head and walked to a table that held several stacks of books, along with parchment and an assortment of ink and quills. As soon as Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall the next morning, his friends from the other Houses immediately surrounded him, patting him on the shoulder or back, and whispering their opinions of Professor Dumbledore’s decision. Harry had to take several deep breaths to overcome his surprise at the reception he had received. “How did you guys find out?” Daphne smiled and said, “We haf our vays,” in a fake Russian accent, which elicited laughs from the rest of the group. After the students had expressed their condolences and outrage over the decision, they glared at the headmaster as they returned to their respective tables. Minutes after Harry and Ron sat down and had started to eat breakfast, the morning owl mail arrived. Hedwig landed on Harry’s outstretched arm and offered her leg, with the anticipated letter from Ginny. Harry placed the envelope in an inside pocket of his robes, offered some sausage and toast to Hedwig, then watched in amazement as Hermes flew directly to the headmaster. He could see many other students watching in shock as the owl landed in front of Albus Dumbledore, something that happened rarely during the morning deliveries. The professor looked curiously at the owl, finally untying one of the two envelopes the bird was carrying. As soon as the first letter was delivered, Hermes flew to Percy and stuck out the leg with the remaining letter. Percy smiled, while untying the letter, and read it quickly. Without a word, he handed the letter to Fred, who read it with George. Nodding their heads simultaneously, Fred passed it to Ron, who was seated closer to the twins. Ron held the letter between him and Harry, so they both could read it. Dear boys, Minerva McGonagall knew better than to voice her disagreement with Albus Dumbledore just after he had finished an unpleasant confrontation. For that reason, she had decided to wait until the next morning to broach the subject and try to discern what had led the headmaster to his bewildering and unpopular decision. Now, having seen the Weasleys’ owl deliver a message to the headmaster and the looks of disdain from Harry Potter’s friends, Minerva thought Albus might be more open to a reasonably presented alternative. She took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it in the fire. “Headmaster’s office.” Five minutes later, she conjured her usual wooden chair and declined the headmaster’s offer of a lemon drop. “Et tu, Minerva?” Dumbledore’s opening comment was so unexpected, the witch laughed before she could rein in her reaction. As she calmed down, Minerva did note that the headmaster’s eyes showed their usual level of liveliness. Still smiling, she said, “I do not believe in knives in the back, Albus.” She sat up even straighter than usual. “But I do strongly believe in discussing situations where I think a questionable decision may have been made.” Dumbledore gestured for her to continue. “I — and apparently everyone else in school — feel the punishment does not fit what the boys did. Notice, Albus, I said ‘boys,’ not the singular. By focusing only on Harry and levying such an extreme punishment, you have brought unneeded attention to yourself and further damaged any chance you had to establish a positive relationship with the boy. “The primary question has to be, why, Albus?” Albus Dumbledore gathered his considerable magical powers and briefly considered showing his deputy why he was considered the strongest wizard alive. But he hesitated just long enough to consider that his long-time friend and colleague had not attacked him but was, instead, truly interested in the reasons behind his actions. In an instant, the headmaster knew he had reached a flashpoint in his relationship with Minerva McGonagall and also in the withering relationship, if it could even be called that, with Harry Potter. The wizard knew there was only one course to take. “As to your question, my dear Minerva, I don’t know why I reacted the way I did with young Harry.” He sighed heavily and removed his half-moon glasses, pausing to rub the bridge of his nose. “It seems every time I meet with the boy I do or say things that I immediately question. In all honesty, I knew I had made another mistake as soon as I told Harry he was banned from playing Quidditch. Even now, I cannot provide a valid reason for my doing so.” Minerva’s voice softened. “May I make two suggestions, Albus?” He nodded immediately. “First, rescind the ban. If we decide we need to do anything, we can schedule a detention for both boys with me. I can use that time for one of Harry’s wandless lessons and incorporate Mr Weasley into the training session.” “That is an excellent suggestion, Minerva. Do you think it will be well received by the two boys and their friends?” “I think so. It addresses the two major complaints — that the punishment did not fit the so called crime and that Harry was penalized and not Ron.” “Good. Please do what needs to be done to make the changes,” the headmaster said. “You had a second suggestion?” “Yes.” Minerva paused, trying desperately to word the concern in a way that would not hurt or anger her friend. “You said you do not know why you have acted the way you have towards Harry. I may — no, I do have — a theory you should consider. It will startle you, Albus, so I am asking you not to reject it out of hand.” The headmaster’s eyes briefly turned cold, but he forced himself to take several deep breaths to calm himself. “Go on, Minerva.” “I would like you to consider the possibility,” she closed her eyes briefly, then locked them on her mentor’s blue eyes, “that you are jealous of Harry.” The headmaster flared as expected. He shot to his feet, the anger rolling off him, and paced the entire length of his office. By the third tour, his pace had slowed considerably and his expression had become pensive. Finally, he stopped next to his large mahogany desk, deep in thought. “There may be more truth in your assessment than I would like to believe. It would explain some of my more irrational acts and statements.” He turned to his colleague. “I’m curious how you arrived at that conclusion.” Minerva McGonagall smiled. “The conclusion was not mine. Hermione Granger suggested the possibility after participating in a conversation between Mr Potter and me. She, of course, had Harry’s permission.” Albus smiled at his deputy. “I hope you gave her some House points.” He began to laugh. “Didn’t I tell you those two would make quite the pair if they ever became friends?” “Yes, you did. They seem to have made remarkable strides in just a week.” “Minerva, I will think long and hard about Miss Granger’s theory. Thank you for having the courage to confront me with it. It appears we may have some special students in this class.” “Yes, we do, Albus. I will convey the revised punishment to Mr Weasley and Mr Potter. Is there anything else this morning?” “Would you like to stay and protect me from Molly Weasley? They will Floo here in about ten more minutes.” The two professors shared a smile. “I wouldn’t deny her the pleasure, Albus.” With a short laugh, Minerva McGonagall left the headmaster’s office and headed for the Gryffindor common room. The professor found Ron and Harry playing chess in the common room and led the two first years outside the Portrait hole, so they would have a semblance of privacy. “I have just finished speaking with the headmaster. He agreed that he missed the mark in his decision. Mr Weasley, the new punishment is good news for Mr Potter but less so for you. Mr Potter, you are no longer banned from playing Quidditch.” Both boys ‘whooped,’ and Ron pounded Harry on his back, sending the smaller boy lurching forward several steps. “However, both of you will serve detention with me.” The witch lowered her voice. “This is not to be broadcast, gentlemen, but the detention is nothing more than a wandless lesson for Mr Potter, in which you can participate, Mr Weasley.” Harry smiled at his favourite professor. “Thank you. I felt horrible, like I had let everyone down.” Ron added, “I really didn’t like Harry receiving all the blame and punishment. When do you want to meet?” “Let me check my schedule. I’ll get word to you by tomorrow. Have a good day, gentlemen.” Professor McGonagall had moved only a short distance down the corridor when she heard a loud cheer rise from the Gryffindor common room. Minerva McGonagall permitted herself a small smile and continued walking, wondering how the headmaster was doing with Molly and Arthur Weasley. “A lbus Dumbledore! I can’t imagine what came over you! Banning Harry from Quidditch! You know as well as I do how much that boy loves to fly. Have you seen him? He’s a natural and already as good as our Charlie. Besides, he didn’t break any rules he knew about. For Merlin’s sake, Albus, they went with us. They weren’t off on some lark. And why did you punish Harry and not Ron?” Molly Weasley finally stopped for a breath of air, but she continued to glare at the headmaster, her fists planted on her hips. Albus Dumbledore had held back his smile as long as he could. When Molly stopped her harangue, he relaxed and let it go. “Why on earth are you smiling at me?” shrieked the redheaded witch. “This is serious business, Albus.” “Molly,” he turned to the witch’s husband, “Arthur, by this time, Professor McGonagall already has conveyed to Ron and Harry my apologies for an extremely poor decision. The ban has been rescinded and replaced by a detention that is nothing more than a lesson for Harry in wandless magic, in which Ron will participate.” The wizard smiled broadly. “I thought it best not to interrupt you, Molly. Please forgive me.” Both Weasley parents considered the headmaster’s startling admission. Molly responded first. “Well, yes, I’m glad to hear you came to your senses, Albus.” Her eyes regained some of the fire they had just held. “You could have told us that news before I got started.” Molly Weasley tried to convey an irritated expression, but it came out more like a sheepish smile. “We are glad to hear the ban has been lifted,” Mr Weasley exhaled heavily, “but we all know this was just one decision that is part of a pattern and has resulted in Harry not developing the type of relationship with you that we all hoped he would.” “Alas, you are right, Arthur. This is only the first step of many that I must take to have any hope of building that type of relationship with Harry. You can imagine Minerva had some excellent suggestions for me to consider. One, in fact, stands out due to its simplicity and its relevance to most, if not all, of the actions I have taken in regard to the boy. With one exception, that is, my decision to move him to your loving care. I cannot express how grateful I am for the guidance and support you and your family have provided Harry.” Molly sniffles could easily be heard, because Arthur stared at the headmaster, slack-jawed and mute at the wizard’s admissions. Arthur quickly regained use of his faculties. “You’re welcome, Albus. It has been a great pleasure getting to know Harry. Frankly, it has been easy to respond positively, because we have found him to be a wonderful young man, in spite of the situation he came from.” Arthur Weasley stared at the wizard he had respected more than any other. “Trust is understandably a huge issue with the boy. Albus, it hurts me to say this, but your actions have caused Harry to not trust you.” Albus Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head, while Arthur took a deep breath and ploughed on. “Probably due to the environment he grew up in, Harry is very sensitive to his surroundings and the people around him. When you are considering what Minerva suggested, please also consider that Harry feels you have not been truthful with him, that you are withholding information, and he sees you as the cause of all his problems. Lastly, using Legilimency on him was perhaps the worst action you could have taken. To Harry, it would have been akin to the treatment he received at the Dursleys’. I’m sorry to bring these concerns to your attention, but if you are serious about wanting to establish a positive relationship with Harry, then you have to be aware of what has contributed to his feelings about you.” “No apology is needed, Arthur, except from me to you. I do, very much, want to establish a positive relationship with the boy. I realize that it will be a gradual process in which I must prove myself, by both understanding and eliminating the issues that caused me to make these poor decisions, and, by doing so, earn Harry’s trust.” Molly had been listening closely to the conversation between her husband and Albus Dumbledore. “Albus, during the time Harry spent with us, we learned he really is two entirely different boys. While he is making great progress, Harry still reverts to the protective personality where he is shy, quiet, and quick to accept blame. But inside — the one we were seeing more often as the month progressed — is the real boy, who combines Lily’s intelligence with the aggressiveness and creativity of his father. He can learn so much from you, Albus, if you eliminate the fences you’ve built between the two of you.” The headmaster smiled. “It’s telling that you mentioned Harry’s intelligence. Minerva and I discussed that topic just before you arrived. There is a first year witch in Gryffindor that we feel will help bring out that side of Harry. Hermione Granger, like Harry’s mother, is Muggle-born, yet she seems to have an advanced academic grasp of magic, much as Lily did. She and Harry appear to have developed a friendship, despite a somewhat rocky beginning.” Molly laughed. “Ginny shared the contents of several letters Harry has written to her.” The headmaster’s eyebrows arched. “The early letters referred to this Hermione as ‘the rude girl.’ I think she came on a bit strong on the train and upon first arriving at Hogwarts. More recently, Harry seems to be seeing her in a more positive light.” Albus smiled. “That is a friendship we think will be beneficial to both of our young students.” He paused and his smiled faded. “Harry is doing something somewhat unusual. Frankly, it has bothered me, because it is similar to what another highly intelligent, magically powerful student did half a century ago. That earlier boy very carefully cultivated friendships with selected people outside his House, Slytherin, in his case. That boy’s name was Tom Riddle, or as we know him today, Lord Voldemort.” Molly gasped, while Arthur gaped at the headmaster. “What is Harry doing that reminds you of . . . him?” Arthur asked. “Harry appears to be making a concerted effort to establish friendships with selected students outside of Gryffindor. The parallels to Voldemort bother me greatly.” Arthur Weasley started laughing loudly, causing his wife to look at him with concern. Finally, he recovered. “I suggested to Harry that he do that.” Molly Weasley and Albus Dumbledore stared at the mild-mannered wizard. Seeing their incredulous expressions, Arthur turned serious. “First, I thought it would help Harry overcome his shyness if he were assigned a project to meet some of the new students. Second, the boy wondered about the House system, where students with similar qualities are put together. So, I encouraged him to look for people he liked, regardless which House they were in.” Arthur laughed again. “I guess he’s been successful.” By this time, Albus was smiling widely and Molly had relaxed. “Arthur,” the headmaster said. “That illustrates perfectly what I have been doing. I equated Harry’s actions to those of Tom Riddle. The circumstances were the same, but the boys in question certainly were not. I failed to discern that. Now, with your explanation, we see it is you I should have equated to Voldemort.” Arthur and Molly’s eyes locked in horror on the face of Albus Dumbledore. Seconds later, they joined him in laughing uproariously at the thought of Arthur Weasley being compared to Lord Voldemort. Minutes passed before they finally calmed down. “Albus Dumbledore, don’t you ever do that again,” Molly Weasley chided, but with a smile on her face. “I thought I was going to have apoplexy.” “Sorry, Molly. I couldn’t resist.” The headmaster looked at his long-time friends. “I’m so glad we were able to have this talk, even if it began under less than positive circumstances.” He hesitated briefly. “May I ask a favour?” “Of course, Albus,” they answered simultaneously. “I would prefer that my actions take the place of all but a few words. Harry and all of Gryffindor, by now, know the ban has been rescinded. I would appreciate it if you would limit the conversations you will have with Harry or the boys to that topic. Harry does not need to hear more words about my good intentions, when all he has seen are the results of my poor decisions. He needs to see the appropriate actions from me, not hear more words.” Arthur and Molly listened intently to the headmaster’s request. When he finished, they looked at each other for several moments. “That is a good idea,” Arthur said. “What’s the Muggle saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words?’” “That’s it exactly, Arthur. Thank you both.” Towa rds the end of Monday’s Potions class, Ron turned to Harry and whispered, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Snape’s even better today than he was last lesson. I don’t know what happened to change him, but it’s working. Now, if we can only get Granger to stop waving her arms every time a question is asked, it would be perfect.” The redhead glanced over his shoulder at the bushy-haired witch and shook his head. Harry smiled to himself when an idea came to him. “Ron,” he replied quietly, “just think of Hermione as the Oliver Wood of our lessons.” Ron snorted. “They’re both kind of intense, aren’t they?” As the Gryffindor and Slytherin first year students turned in their potions for grading and cleaned up their workplaces, the professor made a request of four students. “Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, Mr Longbottom, Mr Potter, if not inconvenient, would you please stay behind for a few minutes after class?” The request surprised the four students, but each quickly indicated it would not be a problem. After they had responded to their professor, they glanced at each other to see if anyone had an idea why the professor would make such a request. None of them had a clue. Once their classmates had departed, Daphne, Tracey, Neville, and Harry gathered around the professor’s desk and looked at him expectantly. Snape cleared his throat. Harry thought he looked both hesitant and vulnerable. Finally the Potions Master asked softly, “Have the last two classes been acceptable?” Harry saw the same emotions on the faces of his three friends that he felt — surprise at the question, curiosity over why he would ask them, and a bit of distrust concerning the professor’s motives. Daphne and Tracey quickly gave reassuring replies. That’s not like Snape at all. Does he really care what we think or is he being nice because of the complaints? Neville responded after the girls had finished their positive comments. “The classes have been g-g-good.” Harry nodded in agreement. “Everyone seems to enjoy the class now, and we’re learning a lot.” The professor looked at each of the four students. “Thank you for your observations. They are appreciated. It is my intent to continue with this approach, so please let me know if I get off course.” Receiving the students’ assurances, Snape continued. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Have a good day.” As soon as the four friends were far enough from the classroom, Tracey asked, “What was that about?” Daphne shrugged. “Either our Head of House is serious about changing, or he is going to great lengths to create the impression that he is.” Neville added, “These last two classes have been so much better than the first one, whatever he’s thinking.” Harry began to respond when noises from around the corner of the hallway stopped him. “What was that?” “Sounds like several people talking loudly,” Daphne offered. Tracey said, “Let’s see what’s going on.” They sped up. As soon as they rounded the corner, they stopped in shock. “You’re nothing but a disgusting know-it-all.” “No wonder you have no friends.” “With that horrible hair and buck teeth, who’d want to be her friend?” “You don’t belong with proper wizarding folk, Mudblood.” Draco Malfoy’s comment brought a gasp from the Gryffindor and Slytherin students who were watching the scene. Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Crabbe, and Goyle, along with the blond pure-blood, surrounded Hermione Granger. Harry took one look at his crying, nearly catatonic friend and felt a cold wave of anger wash over him. He was no longer at Hogwarts, but instead, on a playground at his former school. Dudley and his gang had surrounded him and were hurling one insult after another, which usually was the prelude to other activities. Harry snapped back to the present. He subtly pulled out his wand. “Leave her alone.” Every eye turned to the small boy, then back to Draco Malfoy, who sneered, “You think you’re going to stop all of us?” “Silencio, Petrificus Totalus.” Harry stalked through the Silenced and Petrified group of Slytherins and stopped directly in front of the blond boy, whose only expression was the fear showing in his dark grey eyes. “I guess I am, Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice cold and threatening. “Wingardium Leviosa.” Malfoy rose into the air until he was about five metres above the stone floor. The boy’s eyes widened in shock and fear, as they shifted between Harry and the floor far below. Harry’s eyes turned hard. “Don’t ever do that to any student again . . .” “Harry! Don’t hurt him . . . please,” Hermione pleaded in a shaky voice. He turned to his friend, and his eyes immediately softened. “You’re okay?” he whispered. She nodded hesitantly. “They were only words. I don’t want you to get in trouble for hurting him.” Hermione looked at the suspended boy, then each of his Petrified Housemates. “He’s not worth it.” Harry looked intently into the witch’s brown eyes. “Alright,” he said quietly. With a wave of his wand, Harry slowly brought the Slytherin boy back to the ground. Tracey and Daphne immediately went to Hermione’s side, whispering reassuring words and comforting her. Neville walked over to Harry. “Are you going to cancel the spells on them?” Harry grinned. “Let their friends cancel them. We have to get to Defence.” The two boys walked over to Hermione. Neville said, “If you’re feeling well enough, we should go to class, Hermione.” “Oh, that’s right,” she exclaimed, a startled expression on her face. She turned to the two Slytherin witches. “Thank you, both of you,” she whispered. As her eyes swept over her still Silenced and Petrified assailants, she added, “Be careful.” The two groups moved quickly in different directions. As Harry walked with Hermione and Neville, he briefly caught Ron’s eyes, feeling anger but mostly disappointment in the redhead. Ron’s cheeks coloured but just as quickly his shoulders sagged, and his eyes moved from Harry’s questioning gaze to the floor. The Gryffindor first years walked the rest of the way to Professor Lupin’s classroom in silence. Severus Snape moved unseen through the dungeon’s shadows and returned to his classroom, having seen almost everything that had transpired. |
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