Hermione's face pursed slightly when she heard this. She still remembered the 'confrontation' from last Christmas, where Dumbledore had had Filch try and stop Harry from leaving the castle. Taking a deep breath, she spoke up. "Why do you need to speak to Harry about his summer plans, sir?"
Dumbledore turned to face the girl, slightly shocked to hear her question him like that. From what he'd heard from the other members of staff, she was almost worshipful of authority figures (with the exception of Professor Snape, which Dumbledore could understand, but would never admit to), and her questioning was... almost rebellious. "That's something that I need to speak to Mr. Potter about, Miss Granger."
"I'll come with you, if you don't mind, Headmaster." Hermione said firmly, putting her book onto the table. She stood. "I'm interested in his answer myself."
Oh? Dumbledore tried not to look puzzled. Why is it of interest to her? "That's not necessary, Miss Granger." I don't need your interference. "I just need a quick conversation to tell him where he's going for the summer."
'Tell him' where he's going for the summer? Hermione pondered. Not 'ask him', but 'tell him'? That'll go down like a ton of bricks."Well, sir, considering my family is thinking of asking him to join us on our holiday, I think it's something that I should be involved with."
Dumbledore smiled disarmingly. "That certainly won't be possible, Miss Granger. I have arranged for Harry to return to his relatives for the whole summer. He won't be able to leave them until it's time to return to Hogwarts in September."
Hermione just stared for a moment. "I haven't yet brought this up with Harry, Headmaster. Shouldn't he know about his options before making a decision?"
"I have already made the decision for Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said absently, before looking at Hermione's face, and realising that she didn't look as accepting as he'd hoped. "Mr. Potter needs to be isolated from the Wizarding world when he's not at Hogwarts." He played his trump card. "It's for his own safety, Miss Granger. As his friend, I'm sure you support that."
Hermione smiled politely. "I do support Harry's safety, Headmaster." Too much, sometimes. "That's why his home, protected under a charm, can't be found by anyone who hasn't been told by Harry himself. That must be safer than staying with his family."
"The Fidelius charm can be breached, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said patronisingly. "You must be aware of that, from Mr. Potter's personal history."
Ooh, low blow. Hermione thought viciously. They picked the wrong person to protect their home. Harry doing it himself negates that possibility. "I can understand that no protection is perfect, Headmaster." She replied diplomatically.
"And as Mr. Potter's magical guardian," Dumbledore decided to gloss over the fact that Harry, as an emancipated minor, had no need of a magical guardian, "I've already determined where he should spend the holiday."
Hermione grinned. "Well, then, sir, let's go and find Lord Potter to discuss this with him."
Dumbledore waited until she had gone past, before he realised what she had said. 'Lord' Potter? She knows about his emancipation... This could be a problem.
The small group of Hermione, Dumbledore and Flitwick had checked most of the places where Harry hung out. Since that was really only the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch and the library, it was a fairly short search. Dumbledore, getting annoyed with wandering around Hogwarts, had summoned one of the House Elves to help find Harry.It took Trippy, the Head Elf, approximately forty-seven seconds to locate Harry in the cavernous Hogwarts. "Mr. Harry Potter, sir, is being in the Come and Go room, Heads Dumblydoor, sir."
"The Come and Go room?" Hermione asked. "What's that?"
Trippy looked up. "A room that remakes itself when needed, Miss." He replied, looking down, embarrassed to be speaking to a student. "Its be on the seven floor."
Hermione nodded absently, already heading for the main stairs, Flitwick and Dumbledore falling in behind her.
Harry had made his way to the Room of Requirement, feeling the need to work off some stress after the oddly anti-climactic fight with Voldemort.He paced outside the statue of Barnabas the Barmy three times, visualising his desire. To his glee, the door that appeared was not the conventional wooden door, but a six-sided portal, with two uneven doors in the middle of it. They slid open smoothly, the sound of the servos controlling them oddly loud in the corridor.
He entered the room, noting the black panelling on the wall, with a series of yellow gridlines evenly spaced on the walls.
Hogwarts... I will never question your powers again. He thought, heading to an archway on the inside of the door.
"Room, reconfigure for combat simulation." The room shifted around him, forming into a small grassy field, a high fence around it. Six Death Eaters appeared in front of him, standing motionless until Harry began the scenario. Harry jabbed a few more buttons on the arch, conjuring up a sword for himself. Instead of the Sword of Gryffindor, a weapon he was entitled to by right, he conjured a straight-bladed katana, midnight black blade and pommel.
His clothes changed from standard school robes to loose black pants and an open shirt. A pair of tight tabi boots replaced his shoes, leaving him free to move.
"Room, begin simulation!" The instant the last syllable left his lips, the Death Eaters began to move, throwing curses at Harry.
Without thinking, Harry dropped into a defensive stances, almost a century of magical and physical combat training coming to the forefront of his mind. He rolled to the side, avoiding a green curse that smacked into the floor behind him. He carried on the roll, allowing the momentum to pull him back to his feet. Another curse snaked towards him, this one the sickly yellow of the Cruciatus. Harry batted it away with the sword, before pulling his wand from his belt. "Stupefy!" The red bolt slammed into the Death Eater, throwing him twenty feet back, hitting his head hard on the floor.
Harry spun, dodging another Cruciatus, before slashing wildly with the blade. The Death Eater never stood a chance as he was eviscerated on the spot. Harry added a leg sweep, taking the man down permanently. That left four, and Harry had yet to be hit.
Part of his mind noted that the doors had opened, and people had made their way into the room. He ignored them as the other four fired a barrage of AKs at him. With unnatural grace, Harry leapt into the air, somersaulting over all four curses, before he fired a barrage of stunners. They crackled against the Death Eaters' shield, only one breaking through. Harry quickly fired a series of blasting curses to cover him as he moved over to the newly-fallen man. A quick jab with the sword made sure the man would never rise again. Harry ducked as one Death Eater fired a Reductodirectly at him, shattering the sword.
Throwing down the now-useless pommel, Harry rolled to the side, firing a spell-chain of four Reductos, a Stupefy and an Incarcerous. As expected, all six spells hit, throwing the Death Eater down with multiple fractures, unconscious and bound securely. That left two, with Harry still untouched.
Another sickly-yellow beam flew at Harry, this one catching him in the middle of his back. With a muffed cry of pain, he turned, throwing his wand in the way of the beam, breaking the Cruciatus. He panted for a moment, gathering his strength before throwing back a few cutting curses, giving himself a moment to rest.
A second later, he went back on the offensive, throwing stunners, cutting curses and Reductos at his remaining two assailants. The spell-chains he was throwing battered the two men mercilessly, until they collapsed into blissful unconsciousness.
"Scenario complete." A voice called out. Harry turned to face the newcomers, seeing the look of shock on Hermione and Dumbledore's faces, and a look of respect on Flitwick's.
"Good morning, Professors." He said, turning to Hermione. "Morning, sweet."
"An impressive duel, Mr. Potter." Flitwick said. "What were the spells?"
"Standard Death Eater combat tactics, sir." Harry replied. "The usual nasties."
"Including the Killing and torture curses?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yep." Harry replied.
"And what if these curses hit you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well... to be honest, sir, I don't really wanna find out." Harry replied. "I know that the Cruciatus hurts, and I don't wanna be hit by the AK again."
"This is dangerous, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore chided. "You are playing with your life."
"No, I'm not." Harry retorted. "I'm playing a training scenario. There's safety protocols in place. It won't kill me."
"We will continue this discussion at another time, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said. "At the moment, I need to discuss your summer arrangements. Please come with me to my office."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Sir, before you do, I need-"
"Miss Granger." Dumbledore interrupted. "I have had this discussion with you." He turned to Harry. "Please come with me now."
"Harry, I really must insist that you return to the Dursleys this summer." Dumbledore began, smiling benignly in his usual 'grandfatherly' way. The two had left Flitwick and Hermione behind on the fifth floor, near the Ravenclaw common room, and continued on to Dumbledore's office."Why, Headmaster?" Harry asked, absently looking at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked elated. This is far better than last Christmas.He thought to himself. Back then, Harry had refused outright. Maybe coming face-to-face with Lord Voldemort has made him more aware of the danger. "Your recent encounter with Lord Voldemort has certainly brought you to his attention, Harry. His second defeat at your hands will make him more eager to attack you. The protections offered at Privet Drive cannot be breached by Voldemort."
"Really?" Harry asked. He already knew about the Blood Wards from his first pass through time.
This is going much better than I expected. Dumbledore smiled winningly. "Yes, Harry. As long as you reside in a place where your mother's blood lives, you cannot be harmed by Voldemort or his followers." His smile grew even larger. "So, I shall update the school records to indicate that you have gone back to the Dursleys?"
Harry chuckled. "I think not, Headmaster."
"What?" Dumbledore looked astonished. Someone had dared to refuse him? "Why not, Harry? They're the last of your family. You should reach out to them."
"Ha!" Harry spat. "They've done enough 'reaching out' to me, Headmaster. Usually, though, they had a weapon in hand when they did it. While your blood protections may stop Voldemort or his Death Eaters from attacking Privet Drive, it does nothing to stop Vernon, Petunia and Dudley attacking me. And frankly, I'm not prepared to accept nearly ten weeks of beatings just to keep themsafe for another year."
"Harry, I'm sure you exaggerate the situation. They're your family." Dumbledore tried switching tacks, going for the 'sympathy/family' angle.
"No, sir. They're my relatives." Harry replied. "They have made it very plain to me, during the ten years that I was locked there, that they do not consider me a part of their family, and I have no intention of ever claiming them as my family."
Dumbledore sighed. Why do children always have to make things difficult? Can't he see that I know what I'm doing? "Harry, I really must insist."
"You can 'insist' all you want, Headmaster." Harry replied firmly. "Unless you can give me a valid reason, I must decline."
Dumbledore sighed, before leaning back in his chair, and taking a comfort suck on a lemon drop. "Very well, Harry. I will explain. Shortly after Voldemort was banished, I left you at your relatives house, invoking the same kind of ancient magic that your mother used to protect you."
A lie. Harry thought, listening to Dumbledore with half an ear, while wondering what the old man was planning. Mum didn't use any magic to protect me. It was the sacrifice, combined with Trelawney's bloody prophecy, that saved me that night.
Dumbledore, unaware of Harry's thoughts, continued with his lecture. "This type of protection requires that you live in the same house as your mother's blood, in this case, your Aunt Petunia, and in a lesser respect, your cousin Dudley."
Harry nodded. "Blood wards. You're talking about Blood Wards, aren't you?"
"Yes." Dumbledore nodded.
"An ancient, powerful, and if memory serves, an extremely illegalpiece of magic, Headmaster." Harry replied, smiling slightly. "Doesn't the Ministry consider any blood magic as dark and dangerous?"
Dumbledore just waved it away. "It was for the greater good, Harry."
Ah, there's that bloody phrase. Harry would have sniggered if he wasn't in front of the Headmaster. I wonder just how many crimes and atrocities have been committed because of the 'greater good'.
"So, while you remain at Privet Drive with your maternal Aunt, no wizard who means you harm will be able to find you. They would walk right past the property, without being able to find you." Dumbledore smiled again. "So, you see, returning to Privet Drive would be best for you, all right?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Headmaster. You've still not given me a suitable answer. While the illegal Blood Wards will stop a Dark wizard from harming me while I'm there, in effect, protecting me from enemies outside, they do nothing to protect me from threats inside."
"I'm sure your family means you no harm, Harry." Dumbledore said dismissively. "As your family, they love you very much."
"You're wrong, Headmaster." Harry replied coolly. "But, let's shelve the topic of my relatives for the moment, since we'll never agree. There's another fact that I believe to me far more important."
"Oh?" Dumbledore's tone had cooled considerably. "And what would that be?"
"Sacrificial blood wards require an emotional context. I assume, since this was based on my mother's sacrifice, a love-based emotion, that the Blood Wards require love in order to empower them."
"Exactly, Harry." Dumbledore said, convinced that Harry was actually going to back up his argument. "As I'm sure you're aware, the Wards have been present for the last ten years."
"And they wouldn't stop a determined Kneazle from attacking." Harry retorted. "There is no love between me and my relatives. The wards, while present, are no defence. My Aunt hates me with a fiery passion, one I'm pleased to report I return just as vehemently."
Dumbledore's tone grew colder. "Harry, you must return to Privet Drive. Without your presence, the Blood Wards will fail, leaving your family open to an attack. As the Head of the Wizengamot, I must insist that you return to Privet Drive for the summer, so that your relatives will be protected."
Harry's brow raised. Well... that ups the stakes quite a bit. I really didn't think he'd go this far. "Sir, I am an emancipated minor. Even as the Head of the Wizengamot, you do not have the authority to order me to go anywhere."
Blast this child! Why will he not simply do as he is told? This is for his own good. "Harry, this sort of rebellious nature shows why you should not have been emancipated. I am far older and far wiser, and I know what must be done."
Older, yes. Wiser? I wonder... "Sir, you've gone from having a friendly chat with me, to threatening me. Do you really believe this to be the best course of action?"
"Mr. Potter. I ask that you consider the greater good. By not returning to Privet Drive, you run the risk of your family being attacked by Dark wizards. Do you really want that on your conscience? Would you be able to live with yourself being the reason that they are killed?" Dumbledore looked at Harry disappointedly.
This is fucking priceless. Harry thought. Behind his Occlumency shields, Harry was rolling on the floor laughing, barely able to contain himself. Does he really think that playing to my guilt will work? Delusional old git. "Sir, attempting to play to my sympathies with regards to the Dursleys will not work. Because I have none. If the Dursleys are killed by Dark wizards, I will not laugh or cry. It will simply be a report in the newspaper to me. I would not shed tears for monsters killing weaker monsters."
Dumbledore sagged slightly in his chair. "Harry... what have I done to make you distrust me so much? Can't you see that I am working for the greater good, here?"
Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out a liquorice wand. He unwrapped it, and started sucking. "I fail to understand, Headmaster, how my returning to my relatives' house for the summer will have an impact on the greater good. Perhaps you could explain to me."
"It's not something you're ready to hear, Harry." Dumbledore replied, slightly patronisingly. "When you're older, I'll be able to explain. For now, I simply must insist."
"In that case, sir, I simply must refuse. Besides, I have things that I need to do this summer, and going back to Privet Drive would only hinder them." Harry tried to look apologetic, but failed.
"Oh? And what do you have to do this summer, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore replied, his tone sinking back to cold formality.
How the hell is this any of your business? Harry fumed silently. Ah, you want to know so that if it's something your disapprove of, you'll be able to stop me. "Firstly, sir, I need to go to Gringotts, and find out about my parents' will. It completely slipped my mind last summer."
At this, Dumbledore broke out into a slightly nervous sweat. "Why is that necessary, Harry?" He asked.
Harry looked at Dumbledore incredulously. "I've never known my parents. This is a way of connecting to them, Headmaster." He shook his head. "Secondly, I've got some magical research to do, and being locked into the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive would make that far more difficult."
Dumbledore clicked reprovingly. "Harry, you are aware that students are forbidden from practicing magic over the summer. The Decree for Underage Sorcery applies to all under-seventeen students."
"And as an emancipated minor, I'm exempt from that regulation, Headmaster. As long as I stick to the Statute of Secrecy, I'm fine." Let me guess, Albus... you don't want me learning too much. It ruins the plans for your little weapon if he becomes knowledgeable and powerful. If you only knew the truth...
"Harry, even though you are a celebrity in the Wizarding world, you cannot simply go around flaunting the laws. As Head of the Wizengamot, I do have the authority to take you into protective custody, especially if you are announcing that you plan to break the law." If he is going to be this troublesome, I will simply have to keep him sequestered at Hogwarts for the summer. Dumbledore didn't want to do this. "Besides, you should be spending your summers enjoying yourself. There's plenty of time to learn while school is in session."
I can't believe this. Harry's tone was cold and hard. "I'll be leaving now, Headmaster. I will return to my home, not the Dursleys, and take a good, long think about returning to Hogwarts in September. I will not attend a school where the Headmaster feels he was the right to threaten a student, simply because he doesn't get his own way." Harry stood. "Good day."
What? What just happened? Dumbledore asked himself. "I'm not threatening you, Harry." He said placatingly. "I simply wish for you to understand the consequences of your actions, and the damage that you could cause."
Harry walked over to the door. "No, sir. You were threatening to lock me away in this castle, simply because I won't bend over and give you what you want." He shook his head sadly. "Imagine the newspapers, sir. What'll happen when the story gets out that the 'Boy-Who-Lived' withdraws from Hogwarts because of the manipulations of its Headmaster?"
He can't withdraw! Dumbledore thought in a panic. Time to play the parent card."Harry, you know your parents wanted you to attend and graduate Hogwarts."
To Dumbledore's horror, Harry just shrugged. "If you say so, Headmaster. I, personally, don't know anything of the sort." He opened the door. "I'll let you know what I decide." With those final words, Harry was gone.
"Damn!" Dumbledore spat, slumping into his chair. How did this go wrong? Why wouldn't he just do as he was told? How do I fix this?
Dumbledore had called both Professors McGonagall and Flitwick to his office just after Harry left. The two had responded quickly, making their way to Dumbledore's office."Is there a problem, Albus?" McGonagall had asked as soon as they were settled.
"In a word, Minerva, yes." Dumbledore replied. "I asked Mr. Potter to return to his relatives for the summer months. He refused. I need you to convince him to go back."
"Why?" Flitwick asked.
"There are special wards available at the Dursley house that will ensure Mr. Potter is protected. These wards can only be situated in the place where his mother's blood lives. These wards will be able to protect him completely from Voldemort."
"And did you explain this to him?" McGonagall asked.
"I did." Dumbledore said. "However, in a fit of childish rebelliousness, he has refused to return."
"Albus," Flitwick said slowly, "out of all the words I could use to describe Mr. Potter, 'childish' is not one of them."
"I agree." Added McGonagall. "He's the most mature and responsible eleven year old I've ever met." She paused for a moment. "Did he say why he refused to return?"
"He made vague comments about not being happy there." Dumbledore replied, not meeting either of the gazes. Instead, he was pretending to read some paperwork. "However, his safety is more important than his happiness."
Flitwick glanced at McGonagall, who nodded near-imperceptibly. "We'll have a word with him." Flitwick offered.
It didn't take long to track Harry down. He was back in the Ravenclaw common room, having a quiet conversation with Hermione."Ah, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said. "Might we have a word?" She glanced at Hermione. "In private?"
Hermione started to stand up, only to be pulled back down by Harry. "You may have a word, Professor, but not in private. Anything that you have to say to me may be said in front of Hermione."
"This will be a private conversation, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said firmly.
"Very well." Harry said, still not releasing Hermione's hand. "What school-related subject do you wish to discuss with me?"
"It's not a school subject, Mr. Potter." McGonagall said, becoming slightly annoyed at Potter's resistance. "However, it is-" She was cut off as Flitwick stood up on his tiptoes to place his hand on McGonagall's arm.
"Mr. Potter-"
"Harry." Harry interrupted. "If it's not school-related, please call me Harry."
"Very well." Flitwick said. "Harry, Headmaster Dumbledore has asked us to have a discussion with you about your summer arrangements."
"Did he?" Harry said, amused. "I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in that conversation."
"Indeed." Flitwick replied dryly. "He told us that you refused to return to your relatives in... what did he say? Ah, yes, a 'fit of childish rebelliousness'."
"Really?" Harry chuckled. "That's nice. Good to see his honest opinion of me." He looked at the two teachers. "And do you believe him?"
"No." The two said together. McGonagall carried on. "You are very mature... Harry. Besides, I don't like getting involved in a dispute of this kind with both sides of the story. I'd like to hear your side before I take a stand."
"Very well." Harry said, squeezing Hermione's hand as he stood up. "Shall we take a walk?"
Harry led the quartet into the hospital wing, the dreaded domain of Poppy Pomfrey. He shrank back as he heard her bustling about, presumably making sure her stocks were up to date."Poppy?" Flitwick called out.
"Filius?" Poppy's head appeared in the doorway to her office. "Is there something wrong?"
"We're not sure." Flitwick said. "The headmaster has asked us to ensure that Mr. Potter returns to his relatives' home. Mr. Potter brought us here. It's his show."
Harry smiled at the matron. "Madame, would you run a medi-scan on me, please?"
Poppy was stunned. The odds that one of the students would voluntarily subject themselves to her tender mercies was astronomically high. She pulled her wand, waving it over Harry. It took a few moments for the initial results to come back.
"Hmm... Mr. Potter... are you sure you wish me to discuss this in front of other people?"
"I have nothing to hide." Harry replied, before looking at Hermione. "You might find this... distasteful."
She squeezed his hand. "You're my friend, Harry." She said shyly. "I want to be here for you."
Poppy nodded. "First of all, you've suffered from severe malnutrition, virtually all your life."
"I know. Only in the last ten months or so have I been receiving a proper diet." Harry replied, sounding completely unaffected. "I was fed only the necessary amount to stay alive by the Dursleys." He snorted. "Ironic, considering I was always the one who cooked it for them."
Poppy just nodded, waving her wand at a quill on the desk. It leapt into action, transcribing the conversation. "There's also a number of breaks and fractures in your skeleton. Were you involved in some kind of impact accident?"
Hermione sniffed, reaching up with her free hand to wipe away a tear. McGonagall looked a little misty-eyed too, while Flitwick's face had dropped into an impassive mask.
"List the breaks," Harry said, "and I'll tell you where they came from and why."
Poppy looked aghast. "Fractured skull."
"Uh... Petunia Dursley, November 15th, 1987. Hit by a hot frying pan. I was late with serving them breakfast."
"Broken left radius."
"Dudley. Fireplace poker. September 5th, 1986. I got better marks on a spelling test."
"It healed quite poorly." Poppy noted, making sure the quill was still recording the conversation.
"Not surprising." Harry replied, smiling grimly. "I had to rebreak it twice 'cause it wasn't healing properly."
"But... if it was in a cast, why would you need to rebreak it?" Hermione asked, the tears evident in her voice.
"Who said it was in a cast?" Harry asked. "The Dursleys refused to take me to hospital. They said a freak like me didn't deserve to have it set. They left me in my cupboard until it was healed."
"Fractured right wrist." Poppy said, her voice becoming a monotone, if only to make sure she didn't start crying herself.
"That one was Vernon. He hit it with the car door. August 18th, 1989. It wasn't clean enough for him."
"Compound fracture of your right femur."
"Oh, yeah... that one bloody hurt." Harry said. "That was Vernon and Dudley tag-teaming me. They threw me down stairs." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Then the beat me for cracking the plaster at the bottom of the stairs. April 1st, 1991."
"They're animals!" Poppy hissed.
"Keep going." Harry said. "There's still more."
"The right hand side of your ribcage." Poppy said.
"Ah, Dudley's experience with cricket." Harry replied. "He wasn't very good at it, so he found a new use for the bat. That was January 29th, 1990."
Poppy waited until the quill had moved on to a new piece of parchment. "There's a few other minor fractures."
"Just general beatings." Harry replied dismissively. "Shall we start with soft tissues now?"
Pomfrey was a little shocked that Harry could talk about child abuse with such calm. She was about ready to go and murder the Dursleys. "There's a lot of damage on your leg."
Harry just reached down and pulled up his trouser leg, showing a series of puncture wounds and a thick, ropey scar on his calf. "That was Ripper. My aunt Marge's bulldog. Little git liked to chase me as a child."
"How was it treated?" Flitwick asked, his voice still cool and calm.
"Uh... I had to rip a t-shirt into bandages and use disinfectant on them." He looked down at his leg. "I thought I did a good job on it, myself."
"How old were you?" McGonagall asked, aghast.
"Eight." He looked up at Pomfrey. "Not bad for a kid, huh?"
"Mr. Potter..." Pomfrey really didn't know what to say. "I-I'm sorry..."
Harry just waved his hand. "Don't be. It's all in the past." He smiled at her. "It's not as though there's anything you could have done, Madam."
"I could have." McGonagall whispered, her face turning white. "I was there when Albus dropped you off in '81." She looked at Harry, with tears in her eyes. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"
"Stop." Harry commanded firmly. "I don't blame you, Professor. I don't even blame Headmaster Dumbledore. However, I will not go back."
McGonagall nodded firmly, closely followed by Flitwick, Pomfrey and Hermione. "Never!" Hermione promised.
"There's a lot of epidermal scarring on your back." Pomfrey said, carrying on with her exam.
"Ah." Harry said, suddenly looking nervous. "Yeah... shit. Uh... we don't really need to discuss that."
"Share." Hermione commanded.
Harry shook his hand free from Hermione's, and started to unbutton his shirt. Hermione felt her heart accelerate as she saw his chest. Even though he'd been neglected and abused for ten years, his chest showed definite muscles. Whatever regime he followed while at school, it was going him good. She looked closer, noticing random small scars on his chest, shoulders and upper arms.
He pulled the shirt off, and crossed his arms, pulling his shoulders forward. "You might wanna brace yourselves." He warned.
Poppy looked confused, before she realised that Harry was warning them all about some tremendous damage. She watched him turn around, and gasped in absolute horror.
Across Harry's back was a criss-cross of scars, most of them almost a half-inch thick. There were too many to count, going from shoulder blade to kidney. "H-How... how did you get these?" Poppy asked.
Hermione had vanished, presumably rushing to the toilets to void her breakfast. McGonagall had turned absolutely white, the only colour on her face was her eyebrows. Flitwick snarled, before struggling his face back to impassiveness.
"'Uncle' Vernon tied me to the stair banister." Harry reported distantly. "He then removed his belt, and proceeded to whip me, hoping to beat the 'unnaturalness' out of me." He turned to McGonagall. "My aunt and cousin watched. After they cut me down and threw me into my cupboard, Petunia and Vernon went into their bedroom. That was July 31st, 1990. My tenth birthday present."
"Wha... what about the doctors?" Pomfrey asked. "They should have been able to do something to reduce the scarring."
"I didn't see a doctor for these either." Harry replied. "I had to use undiluted bleach to keep them clean while they healed over." He winced as he remembered the pain. "Stings like a bitch, too."
"You are not going back there!" Flitwick snarled. "If necessary, I'll resign from school and become your guardian myself!"
"Seconded." McGonagall added. "Why haven't you told Albus about this?"
"I don't think it's that important to him." Harry replied. "The blood wards, under certain circumstances, would be the ultimate protection. However, they're next to useless, since my relatives hate me, and I hate them. Without the emotional love and support, the wards are useless."
"Well, he'll bloody well find out now!" Pomfrey snarled. "If he sends you back, he'll have my resignation. Children should never be exposed to such abuse!"
Harry suddenly looked up. "Wait a minute... hasn't he told you?"
"Told us what?" Flitwick asked.
"I'm emancipated. Since I'm the last Potter, I've become Head of House. I own a flat in Diagon Alley, and I moved in there last July."
"Then... why's he trying to get you to go back?" Pomfrey asked. "Does he want you to be beaten?"
Harry just shrugged, before putting his shirt back on. "I don't know. But, I don't particularly want to find out."
"You live on your own?"
"Yes." Hermione's voice came back. "He invited me and my parents to Christmas Dinner. It was great."
"Where do we go from here?" Flitwick asked, breaking the quiet.
"Well..." Harry finished buttoning his shirt, and turned to the adults. "my plan basically involves going back to the dorm, then going to the end of year feast tonight. Then, I'll get on the train, and go back to my flat."
"What about the Headmaster?" Pomfrey asked.
"He knows where I live... by the way, Harry Potter lives at 93a Diagon Alley, London... but since it's under the Fidelius, he can't exactly send anyone else there."
The three adults nodded as new knowledge flooded into their minds about Harry's home. "We will have a word with the Headmaster." McGonagall promised. "If he tries anything, let us know."
Harry left Hermione in the common room, deciding to head to the library, see if he could find anything interesting about magical metalworking. His project, given to him by the castle's anthropomorphic manifestation of Rowena Ravenclaw, about creating a new way to travel by Portkey, would take a lot of effort. He'd been tinkering with the idea on and off for months, thinking about the best way to go about it, but still needed to make a few decisions."Mr. Potter." A voice called up from one of the small niches in the corridor. Harry stopped, looking around, his eyes narrowing when he spotted the speaker.
"Snape." He spat. "Something I can do for you?"
"I wanted a word with you." Snape replied, sounding reasonably polite.
"Sorry." Harry replied, turning his back on the greasy bastard. "Not interested." He started to head towards the library door, when something slammed into his back, robbing him of consciousness. As he fell forward, he heard Snape's final words.
"Didn't say you had a choice."
Snape covered both Harry and himself with a disillusionment charm, before levitating him back to the dungeons.
After Potter had been deposited onto the stone floor, he raised his wand. "Legilimens!"
He felt himself rushing forward, the Legilimency spell thrusting his consciousness into Harry's.
When his eyes opened, he found himself floating in an environment of perfect blackness. As his eyes cleared, he noticed tiny pinpricks of light. He appeared to be floating in space.Where the hell am I? He wondered. Where's Potter?
In front of him, a large, circular shape rippled into view, the object dwarfing him in comparison. A beep in his ears announced the hated voice of his childhood enemy.
"Do you really think that you could beat me in here, you greasy bastard? You've brought yourself into my strong hold."
Snape just sneered at the immense shape. "Show yourself, Potter!"
"Why? Do you really think that your feeble little mind could penetrate my shields?" A glowing nimbus of energy surrounded the shape, glowing green against the blackness of space.
"You have no skill in the mental arts, Potter." Snape sneered. "I am a Master Legilimens. You are just an arrogant, glory-seeking child with no power."
On the shape in front of him, two large tubes unfolded, pointing towards him. Not knowing what they were, Snape quickly strengthened his own mental shields.
"You know... it's rather sad that you believe that, Snape. In here, I am the master of the universe." A bolt of bright orange light left one of the tubes, smacking into Snape, jarring him, even through his shields.
"Is that all you have?" Snape shouted, rather shocked that an eleven-year old would be able to offer a defence. Even he, as a Master Legilimens, didn't have a mindscape this well developed, and he'd been doing this for almost fifteen years.
"You silly bugger. That was a low-powered warning shot. You couldn't handle my full power." The sound of Harry's chuckling filled Snape's ears. "But, if you really want me to..." The shape suddenly began moving, twisting round as it pointed both metal tubes at him.
"Final chance, Smellerus. If you leave now, I'll let you go."
"Empty words from a powerless brat!" Snape shouted back, already triggering the mental sequence to end the spell. It didn't work.
"Got more than enough to beat you, you little wanker." With that, two bright orange beams left the tubes, impacting on Snape's mental shields, sending waves of pain throughout his entire body. The shape manoeuvred up, three white glowing blobs leaving the underside. The first hit him, making his blood boil in his veins. Snape screamed silently, as the vacuum of space claimed him, his shields collapsing. The second bolt hit him, turning his blood to ice in his veins. Snape froze, all resistance gone.
"Resistance is futile." A last message came from Potter, before the third bolt hit him, blowing him backwards.
Snape woke on the floor of the dungeon, shivering. He looked up to see Potter stood over him, his eyes blazing with fury."Try that again, Snape, and I swear there is no power on this planet that will stop me from killing you." He turned and walked away, not giving Severus a second glance.
All strength gone, Snape collapsed backwards, trying to curl into a foetal ball, as his ravaged mind started to transmit the complaint to his body.
The end of year feast. A time for the students to generally eat as much as possible, make as much mess as they could, and generally be offensive little children.Dumbledore stood up, clearing his throat to announce the results of the year. "Well... another year gone. For the seventh years, I hope that you have enjoyed your time here. Your graduation ceremony will be held tomorrow morning, starting at 11am." He took a small sip from his goblet. "Now, the awarding of the two cups. The Quidditch Cup went to Ravenclaw house for their sterling victories this year." The Ravenclaw table cheered loudly, certain people louder than others as they looked at the utterly defeated Slytherin table.
"The House Cup now needs awarding. In fourth place, with 409 points, Gryffindor. In third place, with 483 points is Slytherin. In second place, with 507 points... Hufflepuff house. In the lead, with 740 points, Ravenclaw house. So, Ravenclaw wins the house cup!" Again, the Ravenclaw table cheered, as the rest of the students clapped half-heartedly. Dumbledore was about to sit down, when Flitwick mumbled something. Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"One other thing. Professor Flitwick tells me about an... an alternative sport that has recently begun here at Hogwarts. Mr. Potter? Your 'Underground Sock Quidditch League'?"
Harry stood up, making his way to the stage. He reached into his pocket, wandlessly creating a small shield. He pulled it out of his pocket, waving his wand to enlarge it.
"Thank you, Headmaster." He cleared his throat. "As some of you are no doubt aware, earlier this year I started a new game here at school, 'cause there isn't really enough sport here. So, me and the Weasley twins came up with 'Sock Quidditch', played an exhibition game, and looked for other teams to sign up. So far, there's been four games played. Since each team has only played once, it's rather difficult to pick a clear winner. So, for the first season, the team with the highest points will win this attractive and high-quality shield."
Harry quickly waved his wand at the shield. "The winner of the first annual Underground Sock Quidditch League is Cedric Diggory's 'Beware of the Badgers' team, thanks to their stunning victory against Ron Weasley's team, the Hodge Podges, in a 36-0 victory. Frankly, the Hodge Podges were very lucky to get the nil, proving that we have some future Chudley Cannon players here at school. Mr. Diggory? Would you like to collect the shield for your team?"
Cedric stood up, the Hufflepuff table, with the notable exception of Susan Bones, started clapping, proud of the dishy fourth-year. He collected the shield, presented it to Professor Sprout, and returned to his seat.
Harry, while Cedric was giving the shield to his Head of House, made his way back to his seat. Before he sat down, however, he made a final announcement. "By the way, we're hoping that the UQL will become a regular feature here at Hogwarts. Next term, come and find me out, and we'll set you up."
He sat down, digging into his meal with gusto. While eating, he mused. So, Dumbledore... because I'm not playing nice with him, he didn't award me and Hermione points for saving the Philosopher's Stone. You petty old man.
After he'd finished his main course, he turned to Hermione, telling her about his confrontation with Snape, smiling as she burst out laughing.
This is unreal. In the original timeline, she'd have torn me a new one for attacking a professor. Now, she's enjoying it. I must be a really bad influence on her. He decided to ask her. "Hermione, don't take this the wrong way, but why aren't you berating me for hurting a teacher?"
She smiled at him. "Harry, had you started it..." she blushed, "well... I'd still not have a go at you." She squeezed his hand. "I trust you, Harry. You're the most moral person I know. You wouldn't abuse your powers." She snorted. "Snape, the greasy git, does nothing but abuse his powers. So, if you managed to knock him down a few pegs, I'm all for it."
"Cool."
"Besides, I don't think I could get mad at you, even if I tried." She whispered, blushing again at him.
He chuckled. "That's actually a good thing. 'Cause you're rather scary when you're mad at people. Just need to ask Ron Weasley."
Hermione's face contorted into anger for a moment, before she released the tension with an explosive 'pah'. "He's such a bloody idiotic loser!"
"No arguments here." Harry said, raising his hands in surrender. "It's odd, though, isn't it? Percy, strict and rather limited, loves the rules. Ron, idiotic. But the twins are absolutely cool. Makes me wonder what their little sister's like."
"In love with you, remember?" Hermione said dryly, smiling at his pained expression. "Oh, Mr. Perfect Future Husband."
"Don't remind me."
The following day, Harry headed to the train station with Hermione, Blaise, Neville, Susan and Padma, with the twins and Tonks following in the carriage behind. They all headed for a compartment at the back of the train. With a couple of casual flicks of his wand, Harry expanded the compartment so it would be big enough for nine people, a multitude of pets and nine heavy trunks."Well... that was a hell of a year." Tonks volunteered.
"I know." Harry replied. "Somehow, though, I'm not surprised it was so... full of activity."
"Oh?" Blaise asked, his eyebrow creeping higher. "Why would that be?"
Harry gave a long-suffering sigh. "I don't think I'm qualified to have a nice, quiet life, Blaise. I am the walking personification of Murphy's Law."
"What's that?" asked Padma.
"Purebloods." Tonks, Harry and Hermione scoffed together.
"Murphy's Law states; 'whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.'" Harry offered. "However, there is a Potter addendum to the law. The Potter-Murphy Law states; 'whatever can go wrong, will go wrong, with as disastrous result as possible, in the most explosive and embarrassing way.'"
"Sounds about right." Tonks offered, grinning at Harry.
"You've no room to snigger, Nymphadora." Harry scolded. "At least I don't fall over stray particles of dust."
Tonks just pouted at him, before turning her nose into a pig-snout. "You're a pig, 'ickle Harry."
Harry just crossed his eyes at her, before tweaking her new pig snout. "Anyway... what are everyone's plans for the summer?"
Various responses of 'don't know', 'no plans' and a grunt from Tonks answered him. "Well... I was thinking about various summer activities we could have. Could throw a barbecue, that sort of thing."
Again, various positive responses and a grunt from Tonks answered him. "Well, I'll need to tell you where I live, since it's protected under a Fidelius. Are you all ready? Harry Potter lives at 93a Diagon Alley, London. Okay?" They nodded, as the vague memory of a flat above 93 Diagon Alley entered their minds.
The rest of the train ride flew past, a variety of games, conversations and mild flirting that left everyone breathless with laughter.As the train pulled into King's Cross, the group vanished one by one, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the compartment.
"Well... here we are." Harry said, the first piece of conversation in several minutes.
"Yes." Hermione muttered. "Here we are."
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Why is this weird?" He asked, she looked up, giggling slightly.
"I don't know." She pondered for a moment. "I think it's 'cause I don't want this year to end." She said quietly.
"I know what you mean." Harry replied. "It's been one of the best years of my life, Hermione."
"Mine, too." Hermione said softly. She looked up at Harry's face. "I don't wanna leave."
Harry moved from his bench until he was sat next to Hermione. He leaned close, pulling her into him. "It's not as though you'll never see me again, Hermione. You've got the mirror, so we can communicate every day. We can send letters with Hedwig."
"It's not the same as seeing you everyday, Harry. Being able to hold your hand... just being close to you. I like this... I'll miss this."
"Hermione..." Harry used his free hand to gently push her face up. He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss onto her lips. He leaned back, blushing slightly. "I'll miss you." He whispered. "But, we'll see each other again."
Hermione leaned forward, pressing her lips to Harry's for a few moments, before sitting back. "I hate this." She said quietly.
Chuckling, Harry said, "You know, Hermione, not every guy likes to hear that after he's kissed a girl."
"Not that!" Hermione said quickly, sounding scandalised. "I very much liked that, and would like to do it again, often. I just... I don't want to leave."
"We have to." Harry said, ever the voice of practicality. "But... we can spend time together this summer. I can Apparate, which means I can pop over to your house, and you and your parents are always welcome at my place."
"It's not the same, Harry." Hermione replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Damn it, in less than ten months, you've become the most important person in my life..."
You've been the most important person in my life for 111 years, Hermione. Harry thought. "You're mine too, Hermione. My Only."
"Your only what?" Hermione asked.
Harry chuckled. "I think it's the perfect nickname for you. My Only."
Hermione tilted her head a couple of times. "My Only... I suppose it works." She stared into his unbearably sexy green eyes. "What about you?"
"You'll think of something." Harry said. "I know we talked about this the other night... but I was wondering..." He sounded shy and unsure, and Hermione felt her heart melt yet again. "Would you want to be my girlfriend?"
"Yes!" She answered immediately. "Very much so, Harry." She leaned up again, pressing her lips to his, applying the tiniest amount of suction.
This is weird. Hermione thought, after the two had broken apart and grabbed their trunks. It's like I've known him for years...
The two got off the train, passing quietly through the portal onto the Muggle side. Harry looked around, half-expecting Vernon to be waiting for him on Dumbledore's orders, but found the platform blissfully free of the walrus.
They made their way over to the Granger, watching them smile as they saw the kids' entwined hands. Dan sighed as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a crisp £10 note, which he passed to his smirking wife.
"I'd ask, but I can pretty much guess the answer." Harry said, smiling at Dan.
"Damn you, Harry." Dan whined good-naturedly. "Couldn't you have waited 'til the start of next term? That was my bet."
"Sorry." Harry said. "Actually, I'm not. I could have done this quite happily last Christmas."
"I'm glad you two decided this." Emma said. "You two go well together."
"Thanks." Harry said. "Well, I need to get going. Got a lot of laundry to get done."
Hermione gave him one last kiss, before following her parents out of the station. Harry looked down at Hedwig's cage, smiling at his familiar. "Well... that's one hell of a year, isn't it, girl?"
Hedwig hooted, as Harry quickly dropped his trunk onto a trolley. "I wonder what happens next."