Chapter 8: Pinball Wizard
Harry and Hermione entered through the portrait hole to a crowd of shocked faces.
"Where have you two been?" Percy stepped up to them. "There is a troll loose in the castle and you never came to the feast."
"We were worried about you and alerted Professor McGonagall that you were missing," Chelsea Thomason added.
"McGonagall found us," Harry said. "We were caught up having a chat before the troll found us. Don't worry, though, it's dead now."
"Dead?" Oliver Wood looked confused. "How?"
"Harry turned the tree branch it was carrying into a needle and I put it through the troll's eye by accident," Hermione answered.
"Well, that was still reckless," Percy said, sniffing haughtily. "You should have found a prefect instead."
"Was not really an option at the time," Harry said. "Next time I'll ask the troll to wait to kill us so we can come find you."
Percy huffed and moved away, replaced instantly by his youngest brother, Parvati, Lavender and Fay.
"Hermione," Ron could not bring her eyes. "I am sorry for what I said about you outside class. You're not a nightmare. You were trying to help and I just… snapped. I'm sorry and I'll work harder in the future. When I heard the troll was loose and you two hadn't been seen, I feared the worst. If you were harmed, it would have been my fault."
"What you said was awful," Hermione began slowly. "I am sorry if I come on too strong but I am only trying to help. However, what you insinuated about Harry was a step too far. It will take me some time to get over this."
"I understand," Ron looked to Harry. "Harry really lit into me after you ran off. It made me really think about what I want to do, the wizard I want to become. I'm sorry Hermione. Harry, can we stay friends?"
"Ron," Harry tried to keep his voice even. He was still angry at what he did. "I would like to grow a friendship from this but it's going to take work and a lot of time. Hermione is my best friend, someone I'd like to emulate when it comes to schooling. So if you have a problem with bookworms, you've got a problem with me. Got it?"
Ron nodded and moved away as Parvati, Lavender and Fay moved up.
"Hermione," Parvati was the first to speak. "Harry didn't just yell at Ron today. He pointed out we haven't been making much of an effort to get to know you. He said there's more to you than books and cleverness and we'd like to find that out. Would you join us in the dorm tomorrow night?"
Lavender took over from there.
"We thought we might have a sort of sleepover," She said. "Get in our pajamas, swap stories, and have a girl's night. Get to know one another better."
"I think I would like that," Hermione said.
"Tomorrow night then," Fay said. "8 o'clock sharp. Be there, Granger."
As a group, they walked away. Hermione was gravitating between shocked and pleased. Never before had another girl apologized to her and now she was getting her first sleepover! She had always wanted to have one growing up.
At breakfast that morning, Harry was once again the center of attention. Whispers followed him and Hermione throughout the halls, each student with their own epic theory as to how they took down the troll.
"I heard Potter pushed it through a wall."
"Please, it was obviously Granger who got a werewolf to eat it,"
"No way, it was Potter. He created a special curse for it."
Harry rolled his eyes at the epic hero they were making both of them both out to be.
"Wow, this Harry Potter is some sort of hero," Harry leaned in to whisper to Hermione as they made their way toward the dungeons. "I sure would like to meet him one day. I hear he rides dragons for fun, you know?"
"I don't know about Harry Potter but this Hermione Granger they're talking about sounds scary. I wouldn't want to cross her," Hermione laughed as they arrived at the door to the dungeon.
"Crabbe, Goyle," Harry gave them their customary greeting. "I hope you're doing well. How has your week gone?"
"How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to them, Potter?" Malfoy stepped forward before either of his bodyguards could answer.
"Once more, as always, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said with a sarcastic bow. "They're their own people and I choose the treat them as such. It's a novel concept; you should try it. Miss Parkinson, how are you?"
"Stuff it, scarface," Pansy said, her bulldog-like features even more pronounced with the scowl on her face. "Don't come closer, I don't need mudblood on my hands."
As the tension was about to snap, the door opened and an equally irritated Professor Snape beckoned them in.
Potions class that day was especially rough. Snape had them brewing a forgetfulness potion. Whether the potion made people less forgetful or more was up to debate but what wasn't up to debate was that Snape was being especially cruel.
At the end of the class, Gryffindor had almost lost all the points Harry and Hermione had earned from taking down the troll, Neville had melted another cauldron and Snape had failed Harry for a less-than-perfect potion.
"You may have turned the heads of the other professors but I see through you, Potter," Snape came up to Harry. Harry noticed him walking with a pronounced limp. "So much like your father, you are. He strutted around the school like he owned it and nobody wanted to tell him different. Quidditch star, ladies man, and an overall piss-poor student, that's all he was."
Harry glared at Snape and wondered what it was Harry's father had done to him. His dad's letter had outright said that he was a bit of a bully and Snape was obviously a target. However, that was irrelevant to this scenario. To pass that hatred onto the son for the sins of the father, possibly seeking comeuppance, was beyond reproach.
Storming from the class, Harry was several floors up before the others caught up to him.
"Sorry for Snape, mate," Neville came up and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry recoiled and pulled away.
"That was way out of line," Ron said. Harry glared at him, still not over what Weasley had said yesterday.
"You should go to McGonagall," Parvati said. "His behavior is unbecoming for a professor. I'm not learning anything in that class. Sure I memorize the steps but he doesn't even teach why those steps work."
"Maybe we should start our own self-study," Harry broke out of his rage and turned it into something useful. If Snape was not going to teach them, they'd teach themselves.
"That's not a bad idea, actually," Hermione said, looking thoughtful. "Potions is the core of a lot of careers. It could actually save our lives one day."
"Let's go talk to McGonagall about starting a Potions club," Harry said.
"You guys go ahead," Ron said. "I don't love Potions to begin with. I think I'm out on this one."
Shaking her head, Hermione watched Ron snag Seamus and Dean and head out toward the grounds. Is he never going to learn? She thought.
The remaining group traipsed to McGonagall's office. Hermione took the lead and knocked.
"Enter," came McGonagall's voice.
Harry opened the door and held it for everyone to enter. Stepping into the office, he was taken aback. The piles of parchment from the first week had only grown. McGonagall was now using two end tables to keep the piles somewhat organized.
Looking up, the Deputy Headmistress was surprised to see six Gryffindors standing in front of her.
"Good afternoon," Shock evident in her voice. "How may I help you all?"
"Well professor," Hermione began tentatively. "We have just come from Potions and…"
"What did Severus do this time?" McGonagall asked in a resigned tone. That number of owls she received from parents about the poor quality of Potions instruction made the small tables necessary.
"Nothing out of the usual," Parvati said. "He took about 60 points from us today and scared Neville so bad he melted a cauldron. You know, the usual stuff."
"We're actually here because we are…. displeased with our level of instruction," Fay spoke up. "My dad is an Auror and my mother a Healer and I'd like to follow their footsteps. A heavy knowledge of Potions is necessary."
"Parvati and I are interested in creating a line of magical cosmetics," Lavender said. "We need to know about all the ingredients we use to make them work properly."
"And Potions, along with Herbology, are a key part of healing. I was hoping I'd learn so that I could help… others," Neville added.
Hermione picked it up from there.
"Professor Snape doesn't teach us; he just puts the instructions up and tells us to start. We don't know why the reactions happen as they do. In muggle science classes, we would be informed of the elements and how they react with one another. To not do so would be dangerous."
"I've heard these arguments before," McGonagall looked to the cabinet behind them that housed the Scotch whisky she always needed after conversations like these. "What would you have me do about it? I've tried to advocate to Headmaster Dumbledore before about our dear Potions instructor."
"We are wondering if we could start a Potions club," Harry spoke for the first time, though McGonagall thought his voice sounded strained. "For all classes, all years, all who would like to attend. We could swap knowledge and, with supervision, brew some Potions under a healthier environment."
"While I admire this, you would need a professor to oversee," McGonagall scanned the faces and watched the hope leave their eyes. "I'm not sure Professor Snape would be much better in a club setting."
Harry then had an idea.
"What about Madam Pomfrey? As a healer, she should have a good knowledge of Potions and be able to help us through. We could also have some of the older years help the younger ones. They've been through this before and by teaching it to us, it would help them revise and know it better themselves."
"You raise a good argument, Mr. Potter. I will speak with Madam Pomfrey at dinner tonight and let you know," McGonagall noticed Harry's eyes drooping. He was trying to hide it but he was tired. "In the meantime, there's a couple of books (she waved her wand and seven sheets of paper flew into the hands of the students) that I would recommend you all peruse. They're not on the book list but they are helpful."
"Thank you, professor," all six voices responded.
"All his mother's brains, his father's natural leadership and his own fierce determination. Add in the sharp, organized mind of Miss Granger and I fear anyone who crosses that boy," McGonagall said after they left. "I have to get my bet in on them in the pool soon, while the odds are still in my favor."
Together as a group, they walked back toward their dorms.
"Great idea, Parvati," Harry said. "I didn't even think about a club."
"Well I'm glad you thought of Pomfrey," Parvati said. "Otherwise we would be out of luck. Hopefully, we can actually start to learn how to brew potions."
As the group headed toward dinner, Hermione noticed Harry appeared to be laboring. Sweat was pouring off him and he appeared to be extremely tired.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Harry said, unconvincingly. "I'm just hungry, ready for dinner."
Harry took another step and would have collapsed were it not for Hermione rushing to support his side.
"You're not fine," Hermione said. "You're nearly dead on your feet. Come on, we need to go to the hospital."
"No!" Harry was vehement. "I'll be fine. I just need to eat."
"What you need," Hermione said. "Is to be examined by Madam Pomfrey. I can't believe we didn't go last night. Especially you."
"I told you I'm fine," Harry tried to deflect again.
I'm sorry, Harry. Hermione thought as she poked him hard in the hip. His quick intake of air by Harry was almost too tough to bear.
"Fine, huh?" Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist and started to march him toward the Wing. "We're going to Madam Pomfrey and you are going to get real treatment, mister!"
Harry had heard this tone enough to know he could broker no argument. It was the same one she used when it was time to do homework.
Ten minutes later, the duo limped into the Hospital Wing, a chime alerting the matron to her arrivals. Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office and offered her standard greeting for visitors.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," She said, robotically. "Mr. Potter? What appears to be the issue?"
"Well, I've got this growth, you see," he pointed to Hermione. "It seems to have to come about rather suddenly and taken over my body, leading me here."
"Ah and what would this growth be wanting me to do?"
"I think SOMEONE," Hermione cocked her head toward her best friend, "is more severely hurt than he is letting on."
"It's just a flesh wound," Harry said.
"Flesh wound, eh?" Hermione poked his hip again.
"Ow!" Harry grimaced and leveled Hermione with a glare. "Stop that!"
"Alright, I've seen enough," Pomfrey decided to intervene. "Hop on up to the bed and I'll run some scans."
Pomfrey drew her wand as Harry finally resigned himself to his fate and sat down on the bed.
"Miss Granger," Pomfrey turned to the girl whose eyebrows were drawn in concern. "I must ask you to give us some privacy."
Hermione moved back as Pomfrey started to draw the curtain around his bed. Hermione turned and was about to leave until she heard a word.
"No," Harry said as quietly as he could. "If this is to be what I think it is, I need someone I trust to be here. So far, that list includes one name and one name only."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "This is supposed to be private between you and your doctor."
"Please stay," Harry said, not looking her in the eye.
Unlike last night, Pomfrey's scans went deeper. Her eyes widened, she pulled out a quill and it started to transcribe everything her scans revealed. After the third sheet, Pomfrey's eyes threatened to fall out of her head, they were so wide.
"Miss Granger," Pomfrey locked eyes with the brunette. "I need your help with this."
Together, they peeled back the layers of Harry's clothing until only his undershirt remained.
"Please don't think less of me, Hermione," Harry said as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he dragged the shirt up and over his head to the sound of two horrified gasps.
"When you said your cousin hunted you," Hermione was full-on crying now. "I never pictured this."
"I'll be right back," Pomfrey rushed to the fireplace, and threw in some powder. When the flames turned green, she stuck her head in. "Minerva? Can you come through? I have a patient and I need someone to act in loco parentis."
"I know you asked to keep this private, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey turned back to him. "But this is bigger than I imagined."
The fireplace flashed green again and Professor McGonagall stepped into the Hospital Wing.
"What did you need me for, Poppy?" She asked.
"I have a student who is showing signs of abuse. There are some medical decisions that must be made but I need your input in lieu of parental consent."
"Who is it?" McGonagall asked.
"Right this way. He seems adamant that his privacy be honored. It was hard enough just getting him to lie down."
McGonagall walked through the curtain and gasped.
"Mr. Potter! Who did this?"
Scars littered his chest, red splotches covered his shoulders and his bones could be clearly seen. McGonagall was sure there were more scars on his back as well.
"The marks on my shoulder are from Petunia," Harry began slowly. "She cut my hair down to my scalp and then the next morning it grew back. She threw a pot of hot water at me.
"These," He gestured to his arms and chest. "Are from my cousin and his gang. So many times they caught me and I couldn't move my arms the rest of the day. Though I never seemed to have an issue once I slept."
"And these," Harry turned, gently. "are from Vernon. Anytime I had a burst of accidental magic- my freakishness he called it- he would take his belt to me, as a lesson to not be so freaky."
"Why didn't your scans last night reveal this?" McGonagall almost rounded on Pomfrey.
"I was only looking at the fresh wounds and I… thought they were fine," Pomfrey's arm twitched. "I never thought to look any deeper. Now that I have, we need to get to work.
"My advice is to have Mr. Potter stay the night. Call it precautionary observation, to protect his privacy. While we're doing that, I'd like to start repairing the bones. Contact Severus and tell him I'll need more Skele-Grow, do NOT tell him why."
"Every time before this," Harry had a desperate look in his eye, "I healed just fine overnight. Why not this time?"
"For one, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey turned to speak with him. "You were hurt more severely than ever before. Second, I suspect your magic was used to heal yourself and your reserves are low after the magic you performed last night."
"How long do I need to stay here?" Harry asked.
"After what is going to be a very rough weekend, you will be cleared so long as you take it easy the rest of the week. Lots of rest and I will want to start you on a nutrient regimen to get your weight up. Luckily we caught this now and we can catch you up with the rest of your peers. In a few years, there wouldn't have been anything that I could do."
"What about Quidditch? They're counting on me. If I can't play, we'll have to forfeit."
"If you do exactly as I say," Pomfrey locked eyes with him. "You will be fit enough to play. However, going forward, you will need to come to me with any discomfort and I will be scheduling regular checkups to ensure you are healing properly. You don't need to suffer in silence. We are here to help you."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry looked properly admonished. He turned to Hermione.
"I'm sorry you had to see me this way."
"You're sorry!? No. Who is going to be sorry is those awful, awful relatives of yours, once I get a hold of them."
"Take a number, Miss Granger," McGonagall's reply shocked them all. I warned you, Albus. "In the meantime, let's head to the Great Hall, it is almost time for dinner and we need to let Madam Pomfrey get to work on Mr. Potter."
"Harry," Hermione leaned in to hug him, gently. "This changes nothing between us. You're still my best friend. Though, could I use Hedwig? I'd like to send a letter to my parents."
"Go ahead. Hedwig loves the work."
Together, Hermione and McGonagall left the Wing and headed to the Hall
"Professor," Hermione turned before they were about to enter. "Would it be possible to invite Harry to my house for Christmas? I'd like to give him a taste of normal and some time with a real family if it is possible."
"If you can get your parents to approve and Harry can get his relatives," Her nostrils flared at the word. "To acquiesce, then I see no problem with that. I think that actually sounds like a lovely idea."
Hermione sat through dinner, picking at her food, the sumptuous food held no interest. Her thoughts were in the Hospital Wing, with her best friend.
"Are you okay?" Lavender leaned into her. "You look ill."
"I'm just worried about Harry," Hermione said, her eyes drifted up to the staff table where McGonagall appeared to be having a terse conversation with the headmaster. "He was apparently more wounded last night than he let on."
"Don't worry," Fred said from across the table. "There hasn't been a malady that Madam Pomfrey can't treat."
"Believe us, we've tried," George said.
In spite of herself, Hermione laughed.
"You're still coming to the sleepover, right?" Parvati said.
"I don't know…"
"Come on," Fay said. "You've had a rough few days, you could use the release."
That night, the four girls were on the floor of their dorm in their pajamas. Hermione was getting her first experience in a sleepover.
Their conversations were rather banal until Lavender finally asked the question burning inside her.
"So Hermione," Lavender asked. Lavender sat behind Fay, brushing Fay's strawberry blonde hair as she talked. "What's it like being the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Well, first of all, he's not the Boy-Who-Lived, he's Harry," Hermione said. "He hates that name and the notoriety that comes with it. Secondly, he's a sweet boy with a sarcastic sense of humor who is just about as fierce a defender as you can have. When he stood between that troll and me, I could feel the magic coming off him, like his magic itself was keeping me from harm."
Lavender sighed, picturing the heroic scene in her head.
"Oh I wish I could have seen it," Lavender said. "It seems like something out of a fairytale."
"I was so terrified," Hermione admitted. "I don't know how Harry had the courage to act."
"Fight or flight is one of the most basic instincts," Parvati interjected. "Nobody really knows what they'll do until they're in that situation."
"So Fay," Hermione turned toward her dormmate. "You said you want to either do something in law enforcement or healing? Are you pulled any one way or the other right now?"
"It's tough to say," Fay said. "We're not getting the best instruction in either Defense or Potions so developing a passion for either is tough."
"You should talk with Harry," Hermione laughed. "He's been complaining non-stop about how Defense is all theory and no practice."
"That's the fourth time you've brought up Harry tonight," Lavender said, leaning forward to whisper. "You wouldn't be developing a CRUSH on him, would you?"
Hermione blushed and slowly nodded her head.
"I knew it! I can't blame you. Those green eyes with that messy hair? He's going to be a heartbreaker when he gets older," She sighed. "Add in that he's actually quite heroic. No, I'm not talking about the Troll, I'm talking about before when he faced down all of us when we didn't stand up for you."
"You could feel the power radiating off him," Parvati said. "You've got quite the friend there, Hermione. Don't worry about the crush. It doesn't mean you have to start dating him. He's a boy; it'll take him ages to figure anything out. By then, you could be on to a new crush, possibly even dating someone else."
"So," Hermione turned to Parvati, looking for a change in subject. "You told McGonagall that you and Lavender want to make your own cosmetics?"
"We spent some time in Muggle London after our trip to Diagon Alley. The amount of options for cosmetics was certainly eye-opening. There isn't anything like it in the Magical World and some of the cosmetics, we've found, do not work well with our magic. We'd like to work to make things so that witches of all ages can truly shine."
"How were neither of you sorted into Slytherin?" Hermione asked. "That's quite the ambitious plan."
"Slytherin has a reputation for politics and scheming that doesn't really suit either of us."
"Well, I'm glad you are Gryffindors, and thank you for doing this. I always wanted to do a sleepover but never really had the opportunity."
"That's all the past," Fay said. "Now, you've got the three of us. We should make this a regular occurrence."
"Agreed," Parvati added. "And we're sad we didn't try to get to know you earlier."
After Charms their next charms class, Harry and Hermione got held back to talk with Flitwick.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Flitwick said. "I am impressed at what you did to the troll. Mr. Potter, you assessed the situation, developed a plan and actually made it work, for the most part. Miss Granger, you realized what Mr. Potter was doing and carried out his plan when he was incapacitated. It is rare that I say this, especially to first years but I am impressed. Mr. Potter, you are on the cusp of something I do not teach until after the OWL level and that is chaining spells. A wizard who can chain different spells together is much more difficult to defend against."
Hermione looked at Harry with glee, pride gleaming in her eyes.
"Miss Granger," Flitwick addressed her. "I have taught many students in my time here and few could match you in intellect. I see how quickly you master spells and then you're good at explaining them to others. With the skills and development of you two, I am hoping that you would agree to some extra lessons, administered by me. There would be lessons on dueling, battlefield strategy, and even a little in defense. I might even see if Professor McGonagall could help and add some Transfiguration to this as well."
Hermione squealed and started jumping up and down.
"Oh this would be amazing!" Harry laughed at the pure joy radiating off her. He even felt her magic arcing through the air.
"We would be glad to join and learn a little more," Harry said. "Hermione certainly can't get enough and I am excited by the prospect of learning all I can."
"You have a great mind for strategy, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said. "Add in Miss Granger's organized mind and you've got the makings for a wonderful team. I am excited for what you will accomplish together."
Eventually, the school moved on from the troll attack and found something new to obsess over: Quidditch. The first match of the season was coming up on Saturday and Wood felt it necessary to use every possible minute to train. Harry was almost to late to class because Wood kept talking strategy.
"So it's supposed to be sunny," Wood was saying as Harry tried to move toward Potions. "You can use that to come out of the sun and keep the sun behind you to let it help you search for…"
"I'm sorry, Oliver," help finally arrived for Harry in the form of Hermione. "We have to get to class. If we're late, Snape could give Harry detention that could make him ineligible to play tomorrow."
Wood paled and moved on.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, as they made their way to Potions unmolested. "I get they're passionate but there's more to life, you know?"
Hermione laughed as they readied for their weekly torture session that was Potions. Snape was expected to be especially nasty, considering Madam Pomfrey had agreed to oversee the Potions Club and nearly three-quarters of the school had signed up for it, mostly from Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
As they walked toward the dungeons, four Slytherins walked up to them.
"May we talk in private?" Tracey Davis asked them and they stepped into an empty classroom.
"We heard you were starting a Potions Club," Harry heard Goyle's gruff voice for the first time.
"Would it be possible for us to join?" Crabbe, who had a surprisingly sweet voice, added.
"My family owns a Potions business," Daphne Greengrass said. "I am expected to keep it going after school. I need as much Potions instruction as I can get."
"And wherever she goes, I follow," Tracey said.
"Of course, you are welcome to join. I told McGonagall that I wanted it open to everyone," Harry said. "Crabbe, Goyle. I didn't expect this from you."
"Draco treats us like idiots," Goyle said. "But we'd actually like to make something of ourselves beyond hired muscle. Nobody treated us like humans before, nobody until you. I know you do it to undercut Draco's influence but it was still special to both of us."
"We'd actually like to grow as wizards and become more than what we are, Potter," Crabbe finished."
"I truly get that," Harry said. "And you can call me Harry."
"Greg."
"Vinny."
"Vinny?" Daphne looked at him in surprise. "You go by Vinny?"
"I do now," Vinny smiled.
"All right we need to head to class," Harry said. "I hate what would happen to me if we're late."
They split into two different groups, it was still too dangerous to walk together. Neither house would understand it and they didn't need to stir that level of enmity.
On the way, Hermione wrapped an arm around him.
"You've changed two lives, Harry Potter," Hermione said. "I hate to think what would have happened to either of them if they didn't have anyone treat them as people. They might end up trying to prove themselves and end up burning themselves alive."
"There's really no reason to treat them like that. It's how Dudley treats his gang buddies. They're just backup for him and reinforce the worldview that his parents instilled in him. I was hoping to prevent that and maybe we can get Draco to humble himself and come around too."
"Don't hold your breath on that one," Hermione said and Harry laughed.
Saturday dawned cold but clear: a perfect day for Quidditch. Harry popped out of bed and got ready. However, with every step he took down the stairs, the more nervous he got.
Hermione was waiting in the common room, as usual.
"Nervous?" She asked.
"A little," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's my first game and a lot is riding on me. I'm sure once I'm in the air, I'll feel better."
Down in the Great Hall, Harry joined his teammates for a breakfast he really didn't feel like eating.
"Here," Hermione said, pushing a plate closer to him. "You'll need your energy."
Slowly, Harry ate his prepared meal, willing his stomach to keep it down.
"Alright team, let's do it," Wood said and as one, the team rose to leave the hall. Harry looked at his best friend for reassurance and found her beaming at him.
"You've worked hard," Hermione said. "I know you'll be great."
She hugged him and Harry ran to catch up with his other teammates.
Harry walked into the locker room and saw it. Hanging in his locker was a crimson Quidditch jersey with gold accents. "Potter" it read with the number 7. Extending a hand, Harry caressed the material, letting the jersey float through his hands. Harry couldn't help it; he smiled.
Always picked last for sports in primary school, never truly wanted, Harry was now part of a team. He was needed, his teammates relying on him. Squaring his shoulders, Harry strapped on his armor, pulled the jersey over his head and put the sticking charm Hermione taught him on his glasses.
"How's practice going?" Hermione asked him in the common room one night.
"Just fine but my glasses aren't staying on my head and I'm trying to find a way to keep them there."
"Use a sticking charm. It'll keep them where you want and you won't have to think about them," Harry remembered Hermione's advice as Wood stood to address the team.
"This is it," Wood said.
"The big one…" Fred interjected.
"The one we've been waiting for," George continued and leaned toward Harry. "We've got his opening speech memorized."
"Shut it!" Wood snapped. "Here we are: our first game. We've worked hard and I know everyone knows that. Remember what we worked on, focus on your tasks and don't let the Slytherins work you over. Fred, George, keep their keeper busy with your Bludger work. Angelina, Katie, Alicia; don't let them swarm you, always remember to pass out of trouble and falling back is an option, if it helps you toward the hoops. You're faster than Slytherin so use that. Harry? Stay high and keep circling. Don't make it easy for their beaters to target you. You're our secret weapon. It's time they find out what it's like to fly against Harry Potter."
"They're going to introduce us individually," Wood shifted focus. "When you hear your name, fly out and do a lap before arriving at your starting positions."
One by one, the team was introduced by the twins' friend Lee Jordan until finally…
"Starting at Seeker for the Lions. Youngest in a century, defeater of trolls, bane to Dark Wizards everywhere, welcome First Year Haarrrrry Pot-ter!" Lee drew out his first name while accentuating the two syllables for his last name.
Harry flew out to the roar of the crowd. Once off the ground, any anxiety vanished immediately. Harry was suddenly inspired; he performed a corkscrew turn into a vertical climb before rolling and descending into the stadium. Finishing his lap with a quick loop, he fell into position.
Looking across from him, he saw a boy with honey blonde hair wearing a jade green jersey with silver highlights. Harry nodded at his rival seeker and offered him a small smile before looking down at Madam Hooch.
"Welcome all. Captains shake hands. I want a clean match today."
Wood and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Chaser and Captain, had a brief handshake, which was probably more like a pseudo arm-wrestling match. Madam Hooch shot a spell toward the box at the center of the pitch. Harry watched the Bludgers move away first, eager to be free once again. A glint of gold was all that Harry got as the Snitch flew off and disappeared. The Quaffle then shot up, as if from a cannon, the Chasers scrambled to grab it first and the game was off.
Harry accelerated and moved toward the top of the stands, circling the pitch in search of the Snitch.
Gryffindor jumped out to a quick 50-nil lead thanks to the speed of their Chaser lines. Fred and George were outworking the Slytherin Beaters, leading to multiple 2-on-1s for the Chasers. Anything Slytherin got close to the Gryffindor hoops, Oliver turned aside.
Realizing their team was getting worked, Slytherin changed tactics. The Beaters started getting into the mix, with brutal results. Katie was nearly unseated by a double Bludger volley, losing the Quaffle in the process. Flint elbowed Alicia in the face "by accident." Alicia got a penalty shot but the Keeper finally made a timely save.
From there the Slytherins slowed the game down to a grind, coming back to only trail by two goals. It was then that Harry saw it: a glint of gold near the base of the Slytherin hoops. He saw his rival seeker scanning the other end of the field, giving Harry the advantage.
Putting on a burst of speed, Harry dropped into the stadium, heading right toward the fluttering golden ball.
Out of nowhere came Flint, slamming into Harry, nearly throwing him from his broom. Spinning like a top, Harry came to a stop in the center of the pitch. The crowd booed but Flint was effective; the Snitch had vanished. Even though Katie scored on the ensuing penalty shot, Flint was pleased with that trade-off.
Harry rose to return to his search when his broom jerked again. Worried the hit had done something to his broom; Harry tried to get closer to the ground. The broom would not respond, however. It rose to the top of the stadium and then started to spin him around. He felt like he was in a pinball machine and suddenly he wished he had placed the same sticking charm on his broom hand as he had put on his glasses.
The broom then dropped 20 feet before spinning again. Harry screamed but suddenly felt difficulty doing that too. If he wasn't so squarely focused on staying on his broom, he would have noticed a bushy head of hair moving underneath the Teacher's Section of the stands.
As quick as it started, the attack- there was no other word for this, Harry thought- stopped. Harry sped to the ground and dismounted his broom and bent at the waist, Harry heaved and out into his hand came the Golden Snitch.
Guess that's why I had trouble breathing, Harry thought. Imagine the headlines: Boy-Who-Lived dies choking on Snitch.
He raised the ball in his hands to the sky as the stadium exploded into chairs. The rest of his team landed around him, slapping him on the back. Fred and George hoisted him onto their shoulders.
Harry watched as a sea of red stormed the field. His eyes spotted the bushy mane from the crowd. She was sprinting toward him at top speed. As Fred and George lowered him, Harry was hit was a small missile.
"You did it! Oh I was so nervous. I thought you were going to die."
"I'm fine, Hermione. Though we need to talk later."
The celebration moved to Gryffindor tower where the twins had managed to procure all manner of snacks and drinks.
While everyone seemed intent on being as raucous as possible, five first years were deep into a discussion.
"That was no accident, Harry" Hermione said. "Your broom was being cursed."
"We saw it," Neville said. "Professor Snape had his eyes locked on your broom. He was muttering."
"Why would he do that?" Harry asked. "Could you see anyone else doing anything?"
"No but I didn't really look all that hard," Hermione blushed. "I sort of… sethimonfire."
She sped through the last part as quiet as possible.
"You did what now?"
"She set him on fire," Parvati giggled while Lavender leaned into her, laughing out loud. "Snape knocked over Quirrell trying to put his robes out."
"It was the only way," Hermione looked like a tomato.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry hugged her. "You probably saved my life. Again."
"That's two you owe me," Hermione leaned into his hug.
"Something odd is happening here. First, there are three dogs guarding who-knows-what on the third floor. Snape has been limping since Halloween when, according to Neville, he was seen heading toward the forbidden corridor."
"Did you say forbidden corridor?" George overheard the last part. "Are you talking about the Cerberus that guards it?"
"Cerebus?" Harry turned to look at George. "I thought it was three dogs."
"Nope. Just one big three-headed dog, standing on a trap door."
"How do you know this?" Parvati asked.
"Dumbledore told us that corridor was off-limits," George laughed. "That's really just an invitation for us."
George walked away laughing, leaving five pensive children in his wake.
"What's going on here at Hogwarts?" Neville asked, thinking of asking Gran about all this. She was on the Board of Governors; she might know something.
While the five of them postulated the third-floor corridor and what Snape's involvement with it was, Dumbledore was perusing the note from Madam Pomfrey. Listed on it was the extensive list of pre-existing injuries she had found on Harry. It was so extensive, it crossed three pages and there was barely a note on the signs of latent dark magic present on his forehead.
Dumbledore arrived, disillusioned, in that bathroom with the other professors. He had quickly confundused Pomfrey into not looking deeper. He didn't need her looking too hard into his scar. He was sure Tom was not gone and that scar was proof; proof that must remain hidden, lest Voldemort's allies get wind of it. Dumbledore now had to hope that Voldemort could not return, not for a while.
"Harry is the future, Fawkes," Dumbledore talked to his firebird familiar. "I don't have much more time left, I can feel my magic starting to wane. I just need to keep Harry safe into adulthood and keep Tom from getting to full strength. Whatever the cost, Harry is the future and I've got to keep him safe until he is ready for the burden that must lay upon his shoulders."
Now confronted with the consequences of his decision to place Harry in that home, Dumbledore wept. There was no choice. He had to keep this secret in the same place he kept all information regarding Harry. Lily and James had learned the hard way, the cost of trusting the wrong person. Dumbledore knew he couldn't trust anyone with information regarding Harry. Dark families still operated, some searching for Harry even after all these years. Dumbledore couldn't let them find Harry.
Dumbledore scanned the note again, added it to his drawer with all other information regarding Harry and recast the Fidelius over it, wishing things could have been different for the young Potter.
(A/N: This isn't going to be an evil Dumbledore, nor a Greater Good Dumbledore. He's a powerful but flawed wizard working under a gigantic confirmation bias, unaware he has tunnel vision regarding Harry/Voldemort/the Prophecy.
Chapter 9: Take it Easy
December came to Hogwarts and with it, a lot of snow. Students were forced inside for the most part and what time they did spend outside, they were bundled in so many layers, it was a wonder they could move their arms.
Hermione had taught Harry how to conjure a set of blue flames, the hottest flames magic could create so that they would have some warmth with them whenever they ventured onto the grounds.
Thanks to the teachings of Flitwick, Harry found a way to combine the flames with a few spells so he could hold the flame in his hand and it would float above it. On Saturday morning, Harry was rolling it through his fingers, feeling the warmth but never letting it burn him.
"I don't know how you do that," Hermione said as she kept her flames safely in a jar and held the jar for proper warmth.
"Must come down to intent," Harry said. "I combined the spell with a little Leviosa and imbibed it with a knockback jinx. Anytime it comes near me, it'll float away, gently."
"You're an odd one, Harry Potter."
"You're just now noticing?"
"No, but now I feel safe commenting on it," Hermione ribbed him.
"Well now that you feel safe… catch!" Harry pushed the ball of flame toward her.
Hermione yelped and reflexively put her hand out. The ball went right up to her palm and bounced away, resting in front of her hand.
"Don't scare me like that!" Hermione then pushed her hand forward and the ball came back to Harry. Back and forth they threw the ball until they were especially cold."
"Hey you two," Hagrid's voice called out to them. "Come on in, would'ya? Yer gonna freeze if yer stay out and longer."
They sought refuge in Hagrid's hut, stepping inside to a roaring fire as he was pouring hot water into three mugs.
"How're ya doing?" Hagrid asked. "Between classes and Quidditch, I've hardly gotten to see yer."
They filled Hagrid in on all their adventures, minus Harry's time in the Hospital Wing.
"And apparently Snape got himself bit by the Cerberus guarding the third-floor corridor," Harry finished catching Hagrid up.
"How do you know about Fluffy?"
"That thing has a name!?" Hermione's shrill reply echoed across the hut.
"Course he does, I raised him meself," Hagrid said. "When Professor Dumbledore told me he needed Fluffy te guard the…"
"Yes?" Harry leaned forward in his chair. "What's he guarding?"
"That's none of yer business," Hagrid once again started looking around, looking for any sort of distraction. "That's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel, ya hear?"
"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Harry and Hermione asked in concert, leaning forward excitedly.
Hagrid then set the record for the world's biggest facepalm.
"I shouldn' have said that. I shouldn' 've said that."
Deciding they had pushed things a little far, Harry and Hermione traipsed back up to the castle. He looked at her and knew they both had the same thought.
"Library," they said simultaneously.
"Jinx," again in stereo. "Jinx again."
The rest of their Saturday came trying to find anything on the aforementioned Flamel. Harry knew he had read it while Hermione could swear she had heard the name before. It was at breakfast the next day when Hedwig landed at the breakfast table that Harry's holiday plans changed.
"They said yes!" Harry was distracted from his breakfast by Hermione's squeal of joy. She turned to her best friend. "How would you like to spend Christmas with my parents and me?"
"I wouldn't want to intrude," Harry tried to talk her down but she wasn't having any of it.
"Harry," Hermione said, earnestly. "Christmas is a time for family; for hope, joy and good tidings. We'd like to have you join us this year. My parents would not have said yes if they thought you were intruding."
"There is one thing," Hermione looked hesitant. "In order to get them to understand my request, I sort of… told them about your trip to the hospital. I didn't go into specifics but I did tell them generally what was wrong. I hope that's okay."
"I'm not thrilled with it," Harry said. "But I trust you and trust your parent's discretion. If they're willing to have me, I'd love to spend Christmas with your family."
"As long as your aunt and uncle say yes," Hermione told him. "We would love to have you."
"I'll write them a letter but I'm sure they'll just be glad to not have me 'freeloading' on them this year."
Harry wrote them a quick letter, playing it a little coy. He told them either they say yes or he'd have no option but to return to them. A week later, an annoyed-looking Hedwig returned with their response.
She flew in at breakfast and landed in front of him. Somehow the Dursleys had taped a note with the word "Yes" to her leg. She clicked her beak even after Harry removed the note and Harry offered her bacon.
"Three strips is more than enough, girl," Harry started negotiating with his familiar. She screeched and lightly pecked his hand twice.
"Five? Good lord what did they do for you to demand five?
Harry could swear Hedwig glared at him as if to say "you don't know the half of it."
"Alright, fine." Harry held out two more strips. "Better?"
Still annoyed, Hedwig flexed her wings and flew off. Ron took a break from his breakfast, mid-bite mind you, to look at the exchange with a look of confusion.
"Who is the master in that relationship?" Ron said, his mouth still full of egg.
"She was delivering a note for me to some people who are rather… difficult," Harry tried to explain. "And could you please swallow before talking? We're trying to eat here."
"What was so important for you to send her off?" Tactless Ron struck again. "I didn't think you had anyone to write to. The only one who uses Hedwig is her."
Ron pointed his fork at Hermione who glared right back at him. Even though he had toned down his temper and started to tolerate her, Ron still managed to rub her the wrong way.
"I had to get permission from my guardians to approve my plans for Christmas," Harry said.
"But I thought you were staying, same as me. We were going to play chess and get to know one another better."
Outside of their weekly chess games, in which Harry felt he was improving and even beat Ron a few times, they had little interaction. Ron still scraped by in his studies and generally tried to ignore Hermione whenever she was near.
"I'm sorry Ron but I received a last-minute invitation to spend the holiday away from the castle and it would be rather nice to have some time away."
"Whatever, maybe we'll catch up once you're back."
"Yeah, that sounds good," Harry said but even to his ears, it didn't sound convincing.
A week later, Harry was packing up for the journey back to London, trying to figure out what to pack. Clothes weren't an issue: everything hung off him but thanks to the Nutrient Potion regimen that Pomfrey had him on, they weren't as bad as September. Harry put on a decent amount of weight and even caught up to most of the class in height, making Harry thankful for the growth charms Madam Malkin put on his school robes.
No, what Harry was really deciding between were the books. He didn't want any of his school books- Harry and Hermione were working well ahead of their peers- but Harry didn't really have anything for leisure reading. Then he saw it; a book he had bought months ago but never cracked into.
After Tracey Davis recommended he look into Wizarding Families of Britain, Harry had realized the book in question was so old that it was nearly illegible. Using Hedwig, Harry had ordered a copy of his own but, due to school and Quidditch, he had forgotten all about it.
Might be a good thing to examine over break, he thought as he slid it into his bag. Maybe it'll have something about Flamel in it.
Meeting Hermione in the common room, Harry hoisted his rucksack up. Since it was only two weeks, he didn't feel the need to travel with his trunk this time.
"Ready to go?" Hermione said. Together they walked down toward the train that would take them to London.
Back in the same compartment that they shared on the way to Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione both sat on the same side of the bench this time. They tried to read for a while until the door opened.
"Mind if we join you?" Neville asked. With him were Susan, Hannah, Lavender, and Parvati. Padma introduced herself to the group but left her twin to join some of her other friends in another compartment.
They talked about the holidays, school- Susan and Hannah thanked Harry for starting the Potions club- and different family traditions.
"Well my auntie and I usually spend some time alone," Susan said. "She gets caught up in her job at the DMLE and we don't often get a lot of time together."
"DMLE?" Hermione asked.
"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Susan said.
"Think of it like the Magical District Attorney's office. She oversees the Auror force, which is the Wizarding Police Force. She also decides which cases to bring before the Wizengamot, for the most part. The only ones who can overrule her are the Minister or the Chief Warlock and even those can be overturned if 60 percent of the 'Gamot votes for it."
"Sounds like a complex job," Harry said. "I honestly don't even know how Dumbledore does everything. Hogwarts, Wizengamot, ICW. That's three positions with three varying responsibilities."
"You've seen McGonagall's office, right?" Lavender said. "That's how. She's Deputy Headmistress but she basically runs the school. What's she up to, three tables now? Plus she teaches her own courses and is the head of a house of students.
"Suddenly it makes sense how a troll was able to get in," Hermione responded.
"Auntie was irate when I told her about that. She sent a howler to Dumbledore about not properly managing the wards, after that."
"Howler?" Harry asked.
"Wards?" Hermione asked at the same time.
"Howlers are audible letters, usually reserved for when you've royally screwed up. I've heard rumors that Fred and George's mom can crack the stones at Hogwarts," Hannah explained again. "And wards are basically a magical security system. We start to learn about them in Runes, which we can take starting third year."
"Well, well, well," Harry groaned as he recognized the voice. "Looks like a real pity party going on here. What's the matter, Potter, can't make some real friends?"
"What's the matter Malfoy?" Harry shot back. "Did you lose your bodyguards or did your monthly payment not go through? Or, more likely, they got tired of being treated like hired help? You whine about my friends all the time, Malfoy, yet you seem to have none of your own. How sad."
"That's…. no…. they're just getting something to eat. I don't need backup for a mediocre half-blood like you."
Malfoy stormed out of the compartment to general laughter.
"I don't think I've seen anyone get under his skin so well," Hannah said. "Bravo, Harry!"
From there, Harry, Hermione and Hannah informed all the purebloods about different muggle traditions.
"So they believe an old man with a beard comes down their chimney, eats cookies and leaves presents," Neville was working through the idea of Santa. "But they don't believe in magic?"
"What do you mean, Neville?" Harry asked.
"Well, he could be a wizard. Extension and weightless charms on his bag, apparates into the houses, summons the items out of his bag and then leaves."
"I never thought of it that way," Hermione was impressed.
"It's possible Saint Nicholas was a wizard and the legend grew from there," Harry said. "We all know how easy it is for one act to create a legend beyond even that person's control."
From there, things settled down until finally, the train was pulling into the station. Neville turned to Harry and asked him a question he had been dreading all ride long.
"Would you be willing to meet my gran?" Neville asked. "She's heard a lot of you from me and was hoping she could meet you."
"I'd love to," Harry smiled at his nervous friend. "Lead the way. Do you mind if Hermione comes?"
Neville shook his head and lead the way onto the platform, toward a woman wearing a green dress with a gray shawl. Most noticeable, however, was the stuffed vulture on her hat.
"Hello, grandson," the woman's voice was raspy and a little cold. "Ah and you must be Harry Potter and, I'm guessing, Hermione Granger? Neville has told me all about you. I'm Augusta Longbottom, or Madam Longbottom if you'd prefer."
"Yes, madam," Harry said, shaking her extended hand. He learned that looks could be deceiving as his hand was almost crushed by hers. "Neville speaks very highly of you."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said, wincing as she took got the same handshake. "Neville tells us you're a very formidable woman."
"That's my grandson. He has so much of my Frank in him and I'm just excited to see it continue to come out. My, Harry, you look just like your father. Good thing he didn't have those eyes though. He broke enough hearts as it was.
"Neville tells me you don't know anything of your heritage."
"I was raised in the muggle world, ma'am," Harry said. "I've been trying to catch up since then."
"That's unfortunate. If I had my way, you would have been raised with Neville at Longbottom Manor. Alice was your godmother after all."
"Gran…" Neville tried to stop her before she said too much.
"Your mum?" Harry turned to Neville. "'My mum's best friend was muggleborn and she was top of the class.' That's what you told me on the train. Why didn't you say that was my mum?"
"I thought you knew but you were embarrassed by me," Neville hung his head. "Because I'm such a poor wizard."
"Neville," Harry tried to make his voice gentle. "I simply didn't know. I've heard a few stories about my dad but almost nothing of my mum. I'd like to hear more, if possible."
"Unfortunately," Neville's Gran spoke up. "She and my Frank are in St. Mungo's. They were attacked not long after your parents, in fact. The attack rendered them catatonic. We hope for recovery or cure but, after 10 years, we're not keeping our hopes up. All that remains of House Longbottom is Neville here and my Frank's wand which he uses to this day."
"I'm sorry for bringing up such a sore subject," Harry laid his hand on Neville's shoulder. "We both suffered because of this war. So did Susan and a whole host of other families. I vow, here and now, the last of the Potters will stand resolute with the last of the Longbottoms."
Maybe the Great Alliance isn't dead, Augusta thought. They don't yet realize how big this is.
"Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom will follow," Neville and Harry clasped each other's wrist, Neville's blue eyes peering into Harry's green.
As Harry and Hermione walked away, Harry looked pensive.
"Something bothering you?" Hermione knew his looks by now to know something was.
"It's really cruel to call me the Boy-Who-Lived when so many didn't."
"They needed hope, a signal that the war was over."
"But it wasn't really over, was it? Neville lost his parents, Susan hers. Draco's father keeps the ideology that caused the war alive and instilled it into his son. We have to do better, be better."
"Oh! There's mum and daddy!" Hermione shot off like a rocket, catapulting into her father's waiting arms.
"Princess! My how I missed you!"
"I missed you too daddy, mother," Hermione turned to hug her mom with equal ferocity.
"It's good to see you, Little Winter," Hermione's mum held her daughter close for an extra second before looking up. "Harry!? Is that you?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Helen, remember? You look… healthier and I think you have even grown a good bit since September."
"Hogwarts has been good to me," Harry said as he looked directly at Hermione. Hogwarts was good but it was Hermione who got him to his current form of health.
"It certainly has. Come on, we should probably start heading out before traffic gets too bad," Richard said.
They walked out of King's Cross, toward a black Jaguar sedan. Harry smiled, thinking Vernon would be impressed.
"So Harry," Helen turned to look at him as he took his seat in the back. "You're here for two weeks. What would you like to do?"
"Oh I don't want to get in the way," He shrugged. "Whatever you usually do sounds great."
"Isn't there anything you like to do during the holidays?" Helen asked. She knew Hermione told her about that trip to the Hospital Wing but she was continually amazed at how much the boy had suffered.
"I've... never really had a holiday before, though I did enjoy making Christmas dinner for the Dursleys and I'd like to at least help with yours, if I may?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Helen smiled warmly at him. "But first thing tomorrow, we are taking you shopping for some clothes. I can see your growth spurt has made your pants a tad short. It's time we fixed that."
"I couldn't ask…"
"Good thing you aren't asking then," Richard chimed in from the driver's seat. "Consider it a Christmas present from us to you."
"Thank you, sir."
"None of this 'sir' business. Until the queen deigns to knight me, I shall be Richard, okay?"
"Okay… Richard," The name still felt weird on Harry's tongue.
A short while later, they pulled up to a two-story Tudor-style brick house with white accents. Harry stepped out of the car and looked up to the house. There was no other word to describe it but homey. Snow had just fallen, giving it a look reminiscent of a Christmas card.
"Come on, I'll give you the tour." Hermione dragged Harry through the door.
Suddenly, Harry was treated to a tour of the house led by the youngest docent ever.
"And this is the library," Hermione said as she walked through a set of French doors into a room whose three walls all had built-in bookcases. Inside there was an assortment of reading chairs, loveseats and even a single couch with plenty of room around to access all the books.
"How many of these are yours?" Harry slyly asked, dodging a smack from Hermione in the process. After the library, Harry was led upstairs to a big bedroom with a queen bed in the center. The room was painted pastel blue and would catch the full light of the sunrise in the mornings.
"Wow, this is incredible," Harry said. "Looks really comfortable. Where will I be sleeping?"
"Harry," Hermione smiled. "This is your room. For the next two weeks, you'll be sleeping here."
"Really? I don't know what to say…" Harry's face reddened. "Thank you. Especially thank you for inviting me."
"You're welcome," Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him onward, continuing the tour. "Down the hall is my room."
Harry entered the room and instantly knew it was hers. Where the first room was blue, this one was lavender with two bookcases up against the far wall and a desk placed before the window. Late afternoon sunshine floated in through the window, making the cherry wood of the furniture glow. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the bookcases chock full of every sized book imaginable. Everything about this room screamed "Hermione."
"This is fantastic!" Harry was awed at how different this house felt from Privet Drive. After Hermione's room, she lead him down the hall, pointing out the bathroom that they would both be using and led him toward the second staircase at the back of the house, pointing to a set of double doors before they descended.
"That's mum and daddy's room," she said. "Though we're supposed to knock before we enter."
Down the stairs, Harry entered into a dream. A gleaming white kitchen with hardwood floors, an island with granite countertops and a state-of-the-art cooktop built into it. Around the island was a collection of maple cabinets, a dual oven, a sink and a stainless steel dishwasher.
"Wow," was all Harry could say as he ran his hands along the island, feeling the cool granite beneath his hands as he drank in the sight. In the corner to Harry's right, next to the island, was a small round table that served as a breakfast nook, a set of French doors leading out to a sunroom while another solid oak door lead to the formal dining room.
Due to the snow, Harry couldn't see what the backyard offered by Hermione filled him in.
"Out back there's a pool and in the summer we set up a hammock," Hermione said. "What do you think?"
"I think it's brilliant," Harry said, still amazed by everything the house offered. Once Harry finished drinking in the kitchen, Hermione lead him back to the main room where Harry could see a large entertainment setup with a recliner, couch and love seat arrayed around a TV that would make Dudley squeal.
"It feels like home," Harry said.
"Well we're glad you feel that way," Harry turned to see Richard and Helen coming down the main staircase. "And we are so glad you could join us."
Given the long day, the Grangers decided to order out and, for the first time, Harry was treated to fresh pizza. It always smelled so good when the Dursleys ordered it yet the order was always accompanied with Harry being locked in his cupboard.
"You'll freak them out," Vernon always said, laughing at his pun.
"Well Harry," Richard smirked at him. "Has this dish snagged a PIZZA your heart?"
Hermione and Helen groaned but Harry leaned into it.
"That was just too CHEESY, Richard."
"I should have stayed at Hogwarts," Hermione facepalmed.
"I should have joined you," Helen agreed.
"Oh come Hermione," Richard was trying to keep himself from laughing. "You're looking at us like we're weird-DOUGHS."
"Okay, Winter," Helen sighed. "There's no hope for either of them."
"You keep calling Hermione 'Winter,'" Harry finally got up the nerve to ask. "Where does that come from?"
"Hermione's name comes from a Shakespeare play, like everyone in this family. Mine comes from Troilus and Cressida, Richard from Richard III, obviously and so we carried it on with Hermione from Winter's Tale. Hence, I call her 'My Little Winter' or sometimes simply, 'Winter.'
"I like that and I love the name," Harry said looking between mother and daughter. "It is great that it means so much to the both of you. Do you enjoy going to see Shakespeare plays?"
"It's actually a favorite outing of ours," Hermione said. "Getting dressed up and going to a Shakespeare play is among my favorite memories growing up."
"Do you have a favorite play?"
"A Midsummer Night's Dream," Hermione said, her eyes glazing over. "It's so witty and irreverent but only if you have a really good actor playing the Fool."
"So Harry," Richard interjected as Harry was reaching for another piece. "Do you have a favorite book?"
"I didn't have the most opportunities to read while growing up but I got hold of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe one day. I loved the idea of finding a doorway to a magical world to find a measure of escape."
"However," Harry looked at Hermione as he continued. "Hermione loaned me her copy of the Lord of the Rings and I have enjoyed that. I love the relationship between Frodo and Sam, how they persevere against all odds."
The conversation carried on with ease as the Grangers got to know the boy who featured in Hermione's every letter home.
"Boy, we were hungrier than I thought," Richard sat back and examined the empty pizza boxes. "Guess I won't have cold pizza for breakfast tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," Harry dropped his head. "I'll make it up to you; I'll cook breakfast tomorrow. What time would you like it ready, sir?"
"First off," Richard worked to keep his voice even. He recognized the signs and remembered Hermione's letter about his Hospital visit. "I haven't been knighted so Richard will do until then. Secondly, I am not angry and you don't have to cook breakfast for us. You are our guest.
"Besides," a smile appeared on his face. "It's really Hermione's fault."
Hermione gasped and threw her napkin at her father, hitting him square in the face.
"You know, Hermione," this exchange brought Harry out of his shell again. "If you weren't so afraid of heights, you'd make a good chaser. Your aim is pretty dead-on! I still haven't forgotten the bean."
"What bean is this?" Helen asked.
"On the train, we were trying different snacks and one of them is called Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. When they say every flavor, they mean it. I got a sap one first and Hermione challenged me to eat another. I was understandably reluctant, so I told Hermione if she wanted me to eat it, she'd have to earn it. Next thing I know, she's thrown the bean, mushroom by the way, straight into my mouth."
"To think," Richard got in on the teasing. Hermione was positively crimson at this point. "My daughter, the athlete. Too bad Hogwarts doesn't have a basketball team."
After that exchange, Helen noticed wide yawns from both teenagers.
"I saw that you two. Up to bed, the both of you. We'll be out of here tomorrow at nine for shopping. Everyone better be ready to leave by 8:50. Got it?"
Harry laughed and Helen snapped to look at him.
"Sorry," he tried to collect himself. "But I see where Hermione gets her occasionally bossy nature. She has the same tone when she's laying down the law for homework and classes."
"Yes," Richard stood and hugged his wife. "She got the best parts of my wife, though I'd watch out. She also got my wife's temper and my mischievous nature. It's a deadly combo if you're not prepared for it."
"Enough you," Helen smacked him in the back of the head. "Up to bed, the both of you."
Harry ascended the stairs, conducted his nightly routine, pulled back the covers, sank into a bed that even outstripped the school beds and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Harry awoke with a start, momentarily forgetting where he was. Slowly he moved toward the door, opening it to investigate the sound that woke him. It was early, that much he could tell. The sun had not even risen through his window as he opened the door and tip toed into the hall.
Hearing what sounded like screaming, Harry bolted downstairs, alert for whatever trouble he might find.
There on the couch, clad in a bathrobe, sat Richard watching some sort of program on the television. It featured a character with messy black hair in an orange uniform. He seemed to be facing off against a bigger bald man.
"What're you watching, sir?" Harry asked, taking Richard by surprise.
"Harry! Didn't realize you were up," Richard said. "First, I'm still not knighted. Second, this is Dragon Ball Z, it's an animated series being aired in Japan. They're working on an English dubbed version but I have a colleague who loves it and turned me onto it. It's hard getting a subtitled version but it is worth it.
"That's Goku," Richard pointed to the man in orange. "He's an alien from a warrior race called the Saiyans. He was sent to Earth as a baby and has since become its best defender. He's currently defending the Earth from a pair of warriors from his home planet.
"Helen doesn't like the program so I have to watch it early in the morning on days we don't have to work. Would you like to sit and watch?"
Harry was entranced as he moved to sit in front of the TV.
"Wow he's fast," Harry said, his eyes wide. "The bigger guy can't even lay a hand on him."
"That's Goku," Richard laughed. "Trains hard to become the best, always challenging himself to be better. Look how he analyzes his opponents and tests them, before attacking. Speed and brains will beat brute strength every time when properly used."
Harry drank in everything he watched, wondering how much of this could be achieved with magic.
"What's that?" Harry asked at the ball of energy Goku was shooting.
"It's called the Kamehameha wave. It's a special ball of energy that he focuses into a single point before shooting it at his enemy."
That was super cool, Harry thought and pondered a magical equivalent.
"Harry," Richard turned to the young boy. "I want to thank you for being there for Hermione. You feature quite prominently in her letters, you know? Befriending her on the train, standing up for her, saving her from the troll.
"I thought you were a lonely soul when we met at King's Cross," Richard's eyes, which Harry noted were exactly the same as Hermione's, locked onto his. "I hoped you would be a good friend to my daughter but I could never be sure. You have been good for her and to her. It's tough trusting another, especially a boy, to not hurt their little girl but, as a father, I am forever grateful."
"I am grateful too, Richard," Harry said. "I can't imagine things without her. If I had met someone like Ron Weasley first, I might not have embraced my studious side. I could have become lazy and let others dictate my future. Heck, if I met Ron first, I might not have stood up for her on Halloween."
Harry took a deep breath and continued.
"Hermione has been a pillar for me to rebuild myself. You've read her letters and I'm sure she mentioned my past. Hermione has allowed me to move on from that and start becoming someone that I think would make my parents proud.
"She didn't have to stop and help me at the station. She didn't have to stick with me when she realized how rough my past was. She didn't have to invite me for a normal Christmas with you. It's nice; having a friend who accepts who I am, yet challenges me to be better. Experiencing a real, loving family has opened my eyes. Thank you. For everything."
"Glad you finally dropped the sir," Richard smiled and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. For once, Harry didn't flinch. "As long as you are good to my daughter and treat her with the honor and respect she deserves, you will always have a place within our home."
Richard glanced back at the screen.
"Oh look. Goku and Vegeta are starting their fight now. My colleague tells me it's quite the event."
For the next hour, Harry watched Goku fight Vegeta, thoroughly enjoying the normalcy of watching an animated program, in the morning, with no chores to do.
"I'm surprised Hermione isn't up yet. Usually, she's waiting for me when I come down in the mornings."
"Oh when there's no prospect for learning, my little princess can sleep in a bit. But promise her a museum visit, though, and she's up at dawn," Richard laughed as he thought of their last trip to Paris when Hermione did just that.
At the conclusion of the episode, Harry stood and decided to return the kindness of the Grangers. Marching into the kitchen, Harry took a quick inventory before turning to Richard.
"Richard," Harry said. "What do you and Helen usually like for breakfast?"
"You don't have to do anything, Harry."
"I would like to. Do you like omelets?"
"That would be nice. I'll go get Helen," Richard said, climbing the stairs to alert his wife to what Harry was doing. At the same time, Harry got out the eggs, started cooking some bacon and chopped up a few onions and peppers. When the bacon was perfectly cooked, he removed it from the pan and chopped it up too as Helen entered the kitchen.
"Good morning, Harry," Helen smiled at the preteen. "I hear you are cooking omelets?"
"Yes Mrs. Granger," Harry said. "Do you like peppers and onions with your omelet?"
"It's Helen and yes."
Adding a little milk, Harry whipped the eggs into his preferred consistency before poring the eggs into the skillet that he set out. Adding the peppers, onions and bacon bits, Harry layered cheese over the top, letting it all mold together. Flipping the omelet closed, he slid it onto the waiting plate and held the plate out for Helen.
Having experienced Hermione's cooking a few too many times, Helen tentatively took a bite. Her eyes widened and fireworks set off in her brain.
"Harry," she said, breathlessly. "This is incredible. Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"One of the benefits of the Dursleys. They had me cook every day. Turns out, I'm actually quite good at it, not that they would say it aloud."
"You're hired," Helen said. "How much do you want to cook for us?"
"Every day that I am able to, I would love to, free of charge," Harry said. "It's the least I can do."
"You don't have to do that, Harry. You're our guest."
Looking to Richard, Harry asked, "What would you like in yours?"
"What you did for Helen looks good to me."
Harry busied himself replicating the omelet as Hermione entered the kitchen.
"Something smells wonderful this morning," She said, groggily. "What's for breakfast, mum?"
"Well ask Harry," Helen laughed at the way Hermione snapped to full alertness. In her tired brain, she has forgotten Harry was their guest. "He's making omelets for everyone."
"Haaarrry…" Hermione moaned his name. "You're the guest, not the cook."
"I wanted to do it," Harry said simply as the omelet slid out onto the plate intended for Richard. "What would you like?"
"What they had, though could I get a little spinach in it as well?" Hermione made doe eyes at Harry.
"Put those away and I will," Harry pointed at his friend. "Those should be illegal, you know?"
"Don't I know it," Richard said with a laugh. "Half our library exists because of those eyes."
He took a bite and exclaimed, "You can cook! Harry, this is amazing!"
Harry blushed at that praise but continued to work and before long, Hermione had her own omelet.
"You put Hogwarts to shame, Harry," Hermione lauded his cooking the same as her parents.
Harry started to clean up and Helen stopped him.
"Aren't you going to make one for yourself?"
"Oh, that's not necessary."
"It most certainly is," Helen put her foot down. "If you are going to cook for this family, you will make enough for yourself. Besides, you'll need the energy for today."
"Why? It's only a little shopping."
"Oh brother," Richard rubbed his temples. "Harry, there's no such thing as a 'little shopping' where my wife is concerned. There's a reason we only do it once in a while. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.
Harry resigned himself to his fate and turned back to the cooktop, adding the ingredients for his own omelet. As he finished, Helen picked up his plate and carried it to the sink.
"If you cook," she said. "You don't clean. Go on up and get ready. We leave in a half-hour."
Curious about what fate lie ahead of him, Harry headed upstairs, ready to face whatever came next.
A/N: I didn't intend Christmas to be two chapters but some of the interactions took on a life of their own.
Next comes Christmas and Hermione gets a very special gift that she was not expecting.