Chapter Text
“That poor boy… Did you see the state of him? He must have been so scared.” Pomona sniffles as she wipes the tears out of her eyes. “It’s hard to imagine. He’s always so sweet in classes, eager to help anyone who needs it. For his magic to be capable of doing anything like that…”
Quite frankly, Filius is impressed with Heir Potter’s self-control. An Obscurial having that degree of control over the destruction left in their wake is unheard of, and it only solidifies his belief that Heir Potter didn’t quite slip into becoming a full Obscurial. “He thought he was going to die,” he murmurs quietly. “His magic reacted to save his life. That’s pretty standard for accidental magic, and even something of this scale isn’t unusual for Mr. Potter, is it? Even as a baby, his magic was powerful enough to fend off You-Know-Who. Why wouldn’t it have gotten stronger over the years?” Of course, Filius knows very well that Lily and James are responsible for their son surviving that night, that sort of power can only be found in blood sacrifices and rituals, but it’s the story that Albus went with and it’s convenient for Heir Potter now.
“I can’t believe Quirrel would do such a thing!” Minerva is utterly indignant with rage, and Filius wishes he could afford to express that same anger. “Working with You-Know-Who to kidnap Mr. Potter’s familiar and lure him down into the corridor… If he had been any less powerful, he would have died.”
The mere memory of the aftermath of what they stumbled into down there is enough to make a lesser wixen cower in fear. Nothing was left of Quirrel’s body. Only bloodstains as far as the eye could see, covering the floor, covering the walls, and covering Heir Potter. If not for his ability to see magic, Filius would have thought the boy was dead.
Minerva had to shift into her Animagus form and speak with Athena to confirm that the puddle was ever Quirrel at all. And with Heir Potter still unconscious in the Hospital Wing, the kneazle’s heavily edited version of events is the only information that they have to go off of.
“That foolish, foolish boy!” Severus paces back and forth with a twitching eyebrow. “I have never seen a group of snakes so reckless! Rushing into danger like a bunch of Gryffindors while their housemates cover for them…!” He pinches his nose with a sigh. “Why did they not inform anyone?”
Because Heir Potter was seconds away from losing it in the Great Hall, and it was in all of their best interests that he moved quickly. But, well… He can’t quite resist stirring the pot a little. “Have you given them any reason to believe they could trust you with something like this?” A haunted look lingers at the edge of Severus’s eyes, as if only now remembering something of great importance. “Or did they have every reason to believe you would dismiss the issue outright because it involved Mr. Potter? Slytherins are resourceful, Severus. If you don’t give them the tools they need to survive, they often wind up forging them themselves.”
It is then that Albus returns, a grave expression on his face that Filius does not like in the slightest. “Albus!” Minerva cries out. “How is he? Is Mr. Potter alright?”
“He’s quite alright, Minerva. Magically exhausted, but otherwise unharmed, save for some minor rope burn. None of the blood was his.” Filius has never seen his coworkers look so relieved and horrified at the same time. None of them would make it a week in the Goblin Nation. “I’m more concerned for his state of mind…”
Albus is concerned that he’s created another Voldemort through his negligence, and if Hari was any less protective of those he calls his, Filius might share that fear. But Hari Potter is a boy who cares so much that it hurts him, horribly and irreparably, not a boy that doesn’t care for anyone but himself. He isn’t anything like a young Tom Riddle at all. “There’s nothing for it but to wait and see,” Filius murmurs. “Though I’d advise he see a mind healer over the summer. He’ll likely need help processing what happened.
But he knows before Albus can say a word that he has no intention of allowing that to happen. Because rumors will fly if it’s discovered that Heir Potter was nearly killed while at Hogwarts, and if they started digging… Well, then they would find that it was hardly Quirrel’s first attempt to do so.
“I will watch over him.” Filius’s finger twitches with the urge to wield his wand and keep the headmaster far, far away from Heir Potter, but doing so would expose their hand far too early. “The rest of you focus on the student body. We don’t want the students to panic when they realize Quirrel is missing, hm? Perhaps it would be wise to inform them that he’s gone on another sabbatical.”
And just like that, a year of willful negligence is swept under the rug.
-
His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. Hari slowly blinks his eyes open with a groan, squinting at the glint of gold hovering over him. Only Athena’s rumbling purr as she lays across his chest keeps him from jolting at Dumbledore’s presence, and even then, his heart starts pounding in his chest. He very carefully avoids making eye contact, staring at the bridge of Dumbledore’s nose instead.
“So you’ve finally woken up.” Hari’s magic bristles at Dumbledore’s tone, so he takes a deep breath and averts his eyes entirely, allowing them to linger on a table that’s covered in a pile of sweets and flowers. “Tokens from your friends and admirers. You seem to have an awful lot of those, don’t you, Mr. Potter?”
Despite the situation he’s in, he can’t keep a smile from tugging at the edge of his lips. “I’m very lucky,” he whispers. “Are there notes for who sent what? I’ll need to write thank you letters…”
“I rather think there are more pressing matters at hand.” Even the false warmth that usually suffuses Dumbledore’s voice is long gone now. “What happened, Mr. Potter?”
“Quirrel kidnapped Athena.” Hari runs his hand over her fur as she purrs even louder, murmuring, “I could feel her calling out to me. And I couldn’t risk… I had to move quickly. Ron, Blaise, Millie, and Heir Malfoy all followed me down, and they helped me get through the puzzles as quickly as we could. But the last one only let one person move forward, and it had to be me. That was my familiar in there. And then Quirrel bound me and started talking about some… Stone or something? I didn’t really pay attention, honestly. But he was threatening me and Athena both and then my magic just… Reacted. I’m really sorry, Headmaster. I didn’t mean to…” He forces tears to well up in the corners of his eyes by imagining what could have happened if he was too late, clenching the blanket draped over him as he lowers his eyes.
“And why didn’t you inform any of your professors, Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore’s voice is taking on a sharper edge now, and Hari knows, deep in his bones, that he can tell Hari is lying. He’s just trying to catch him out in it. “We would have gotten her back for you.”
“Nothing was done the other two times Quirrel tried to kill me,” he answers with a little shrug. “Why would this time be any different?”
“... Two times? I admit to suspecting something was amiss after hearing what happened at the first Quidditch game, but when did the second incident occur, Mr. Potter?”
“On our way up to Astronomy class just before Easter hols. I was at the back of the group, and about halfway up the tower, I felt a sudden, sharp tug backward. No one was behind me. Parvati was the only reason I didn’t crack my head open on the stairs.” Hari crosses his arms over his chest with narrowed eyes. “So forgive me for not trusting any of you to save her, but you didn’t seem particularly inclined to protect me either.”
Dumbledore’s blinding, oppressive magic twists with unease. “Have you had any incidents like this before, Mr. Potter? Any times where your magic reacted without you thinking? The staff will need to know in order to best aid you.”
He wants to say no, but Dumbledore already knows about there being surges of magic around the Dursley home. Thank Merlin that Athena intercepted that letter back then. “A couple of times, I think?” He words it as a question, tilting his head and furrowing his brow as if thinking very hard about it. “I know that I got scared and blew out all the windows once. And I think there were a couple of other little things, but I don’t really remember them. Why? I thought it was normal for wixen to have accidental magic like that growing up.”
“It is, but most grow out of it by the time they reach Hogwarts age. So it is very strange indeed that your magic did what it did to Quirinus. Are you certain you have no idea how it happened, Mr. Potter? You will not be in trouble. You were only defending yourself.”
That is a lie, and he knows it. “I’m sure,” he murmurs, shrinking in on himself as his magic writhes beneath his skin. “I really don’t know what happened, Headmaster.”
“Enough of this, Albus!” Madam Pomfrey looks incensed as she enters the room with several potions delicately balanced on a tray. “The boy has only just woken up. I will not have you interrogating him in my Hospital Wing!”
“I apologize, Poppy.” Dumbledore dips his head with a chuckle. “It would seem I got carried away. I will leave him to you.”
“You’d better,” she grumbles as he finally leaves the room, turning to Hari with clear concern in her eyes. “Your heart rate is quite high, Mr. Potter. Are you feeling alright?”
“There are spells for that kind of thing?” he murmurs in clear interest before shaking his head slightly. “Sorry. I think so? The Headmaster was just making me nervous.”
“Honestly, the nerve of that man. Badgering one of my patients as soon as they wake up… Let me run some quick diagnostics on you, Mr. Potter.” The magic that washes over his skin feels vaguely intrusive but non-malicious, so he does his best to grin and bear it. “Your magic has replenished itself shockingly quickly. I’d like to keep you for a few hours longer just to be certain, but you should be free to go after lunch."
“Have any of my friends stopped by recently?” He tilts his head slightly with wide, pleading eyes. “I’d really like to see them…”
“They’ve been practically camped outside the Hospital Wing,” Madam Pomfrey snorts. “Only leaving for meals and curfew, I swear… I suppose I could let them in. But try not to get too rowdy. Even if you are my only patient right now, I’ve still got a mountain of paperwork to sort through before the end of term.”
“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!”
His friends practically sprint inside the door when Madam Pomfrey opens it for them, and Hari is pleasantly surprised to see not only Malfoy but also Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle present as well, all without a hint of malice in their magic. “If you get too loud, I will kick you out!” Madam Pomfrey warns them with a stern glare as she walks out of the room. “So behave yourselves.”
“Hari, are you okay?” Tears streak down Hannah’s cheeks as her shoulders tremble. “We were all so worried!”
“I know I said I didn’t want to fight any more trolls this year, but you still should have grabbed me,” Neville chides him with a nervous laugh. “Don’t leave us out of it next time!”
“I’m really quite disappointed that I didn’t get to set Quirrel on fire again,” Hermione mutters lowly. “But he’s run off on sabbatical after trying to kill you again. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my eyes peeled.”
“Is that the story they’re going with?” he asks with a hum. “Huh. That’s convenient.”
“And what do you mean by that, Heir Potter?” Parkinson asks with narrowed eyes. He’s a bit surprised by the lack of tension between Malfoy’s group and his own, but he supposes they’ve spent a lot of time together these past few… However long it has been.
“My magic vaporized him,” he says bluntly. “It was pretty gross. There was blood everywhere; it was a real mess.”
“Good riddance,” Blaise snorts. “Couldn’t have happened to a worse man. Imagine putting up with another year of him trying to kill you.”
Malfoy’s group looks more than a bit stunned by how casually they’re discussing this, and Hari focuses on them with an amused smile. “What brought you four here? I understand the others, of course, but I must admit to being surprised you’ve been waiting for me.”
“After something like this?” Parkinson murmurs disbelievingly. “Draco’s right; no one else in our year could dream of becoming Slytherin Prince. We have no intention of weakening our year’s court. We’re behind you now. For better or for worse.”
His eyes widen in pleasant surprise. He expected to have to put up with a lot of contention, both in his year and outside of it, moving into the next year, and avoiding that hassle from his yearmates is ideal. It’ll make his position stronger going into second year. “Then you may all call me Hari,” he says with a dip of his head. “Thank you for backing me.”
“Pansy, then. I look forward to working with you, Hari.”
“I suppose you can all call me Draco…”
“Vincent.”
“Gregory.”
Once permission is given all around, Ron turns to Hari with a calculating look. “What’s the plan? I feel like we should probably catch everyone up on what’s been going on, but that’s up to you. It’s just… We have no clue what next year is gonna bring, but I have a feeling it won’t be easy. We’ll be able to help you more if everyone is on the same page.”
“... You’re right. Athena, will you get Professor Flitwick once Madam Pomfrey releases me?”
‘Of course!’ she meows while purring up a storm. ‘And I’ll go get the others from your dorm now. They’ll want to know that you’re awake anyway.’ Athena leaps off his bed and runs out the door, causing the others’ magic to swirl about in mild confusion.
“I’ll meet you all in our study room,” Hari reassures them with a smile. “Should be in a few hours. We’ll talk more then.”
It’s best not to risk anyone overhearing more than what they’ve already said.
-
“Well, your readings are all still coming back normal. But no more magic for the rest of the term, Mr. Potter!” Madam Pomfrey taps her fingers against her clipboard with a stern look. “You need to rest or you’ll end up right back in this bed. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Madam Pomfrey. I’ll be careful.”
“Run along, then.”
She doesn’t have to tell him twice. Hari walks out of the Hospital Wing and ducks around a corner before draping his Invisibility Cloak over himself. Now that he’s hidden from view, he steadily makes his way to their study room, smiling once he can see all the magical signatures waiting for him there.
“Hari!!” Artemis races toward him the second he steps through the door, winding up his body until she’s hiding in his hair. “You have prevailed over a great predator! You’ve shown them all that you’re not prey.”
Nisaba’s pace is far more sedate, but she curls herself around his neck with relief dancing in her magic. “Little speaker, I’m so glad that you’re alright.”
“So you’ve finally decided to bear your fangs,” Camulus hisses with a clear nod of approval. “Good. I am proud of you, speaker.”
Kratos gently bumps his head against Hari’s hand as he curls protectively around his feet. “You will get us first next time. We cannot protect you if you do not let us, Hari.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was just so worried…”
‘And they’re not angry at you,’ Athena reassures him as those not in the know gasp with shock. ‘Just worried. You scared us all, Hari. We’re a team. We’ve gotta make sure we’re working together.’
“You’re a parselmouth?!” Padma is the first one to recover from the shock of it, eyes gleaming with intrigue. “I didn’t know that enough of the Potter’s Indian heritage remained to make that possible! They’ve been intermarrying with British families for so many years that I thought… Oh, this is amazing!”
Hari glances at Professor Flitwick, and the half-goblin’s magic dances merrily as he dips his head in a nod. “I’ve already set up privacy wards, Heir Potter. I assume you wish for me to be the bonder again?”
“If you don’t mind,” he confirms with a sheepish smile. “That would be safest for all of us.”
“What’s going on, Hari?” Lavender’s eyebrows furrow with concern. “Why all the secrecy? Are you alright?”
He takes a deep breath, steadying both himself and his magic with the exhale. “I am fine. But in order for me to tell any of you more than what I already have, I’ll need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow. You can say no,” he reassures them when he sees a few uneasy faces. “I’ll still be your friend. But I won’t be able to tell you everything, and you’ll have to live with that. I have to protect myself first. And it will be very, very dangerous for me if the wrong people find out about any of this too soon, including me being a parselmouth.”
Pansy’s eyes narrow sharply. “And what are the terms of this Unbreakable Vow?”
“Simply that any secrets shared among us remain as such,” Hari reassures her. “Ron, Blaise, Theo, we’ll have to expand our own vow to cover secrets shared outside of our dorm room too. Basically, anything that someone tells you is a secret will be protected by the vow, and if you ever overhear any of us saying something, then you won’t be able to share that either unless you ask permission. Everything else is unaffected. I’m not going to draw attention to the fact that I’m making vows like this if I can help it.”
It’s silent for several long, painful moments. Hari’s heart feels as if it’s going to beat out of his chest. “I’ll do it.” Neville is the first one to speak, and Hari can feel the relief flooding his magic as soon as he does. “You’re my best friend, Hari. If you feel like you need to keep this a secret, then I want to help you do that.”
“I’m in, obviously,” Millie drawls. “I’d be dead without you. I’d be insulted that you think I’d expose your secrets, but you’re trying to protect us all from a Legilimens, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Dumbledore is one.” Ron shudders at the thought of it. “And with the way he ignored what was happening this year… I don’t like it.”
“Snape is one too,” Hari adds, causing several of his friends to pale. “And he hates me. If he finds out something like this, then even if he doesn’t make it obvious he knows… He could spread rumors. Hogwarts’ gossip mill moves quickly. I’m not risking it.”
“I don’t think he would be that petty,” Draco murmurs. “But I can’t fault you for thinking it either. I’ll agree to the vow.”
One by one, each of his friends agrees, and once everyone has expressed their approval, Flitwick requests Mother Magic’s aid with another vow. The magic feels brighter this time, almost electric and crackling with energy, as it flits from person to person, taking just the slightest bit of magic from each of them before the vow settles and the magic dissipates.
“Me being a parselmouth is a secret,” Hari says immediately. “As are the rest of my familiars. Athena is already a target because of me, and I am not about to put the rest at risk for no reason.”
“Of course,” Daphne agrees easily. “And it would be rather difficult to convince the Hogwarts Board of Governors that they are all your familiars in any case. It would turn into a media circus.”
“And the last thing you need is media attention right now,” Susan murmurs. “Everyone might believe that Quirrel just left for now, but when he never comes back…”
Parvati’s magic sparks with curiosity when she asks, “Speaking of Quirrel, are you going to tell us that full story now? Because I want to know what that murderous creep was up to.”
“I’m going to preface this by saying that everything I say here today is a secret,” he says with a snort. “Quirrel was working with the Dark Lord. They were after whatever it was that Dumbledore was hiding in the third-floor corridor, and the Dark Lord was possessing him completely by the time that I got down there. But Athena heard them speaking together, and she assured me that Quirrel was fully aware of what he was doing.”
“I think I saw him out in the Forbidden Forest that night…” Draco murmurs with a haunted look. “Something was attacking unicorns, killing them and drinking their blood, and my detention was to go out there with Hagrid and find out what was doing it. It was so dark that it was hard to tell for sure, but… It looked like a person.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Hari agrees with a shrug. “There’s a reason I killed him. And though the story everyone will hear is that it was an accident, it was not. He intended to kill me, I killed him first, and I will not apologize for it. But I’m not about to let myself get crucified for it either.”
Flitwick’s grin grows a bit sharper. His magic burns with pride that has Hari flushing and averting his eyes.
“Hear, hear!” Terry cheers. “You’d better not apologize. I don’t think there’s a single one of us who didn’t want him dead. Most of us couldn’t have done it ourselves, mind, but I’m hardly complaining. Besides, we’ve all watched him try to kill you.”
“Precisely,” Hermione agrees with a smirk. “Anything you may or may not have done to him was something he brought onto himself. He could not have expected to outrun karma forever.”
“You’re vicious, Hermione,” Vincent murmurs with wide eyes, and a hint of fear threads through his magic.
“Thank you!”
Gregory can’t even look her in the eye as he whispers, “That wasn’t a compliment. You’re actually scary.”
“Hm… Let’s see, what else happened this year? Oh, I suppose I ought to tell you about the dragon–”
“Ha! I knew it!” Draco cries out. “You did smuggle it out of the school, didn’t you?! I guess that makes more sense now with the whole parselmouth thing…”
“Yep!” Ron’s cheeky grin speaks for itself. “Sent her back to Romania with Charlie. Was easy as can be with Hari there. I swear, Charlie has been talking more about you in his letters than anything else. He wants you to work up there so bad.”
Hari snorts at that. “Let him know that I’m heavily considering it. If this is how my first year at Hogwarts is, then I have a feeling I’ll want to leave Britain by the time I graduate.”
“I wouldn’t even blame you,” Theo murmurs. “You value peace and quiet as much as I do, and you’ll never get that here.”
“Only six more years. Just six more years…”
“Do let the Goblin Nation know if there is anything we can do to assist you when the time comes, Heir Potter.” Flitwick winks at the others before saying, “This information is secret, of course.”
“This is really serious, isn’t it?” Hannah whispers. “I mean, we knew it was serious when Quirrel kept trying to kill you, but… Obviously, we’re not on the Dark Lord’s side, but we’re not on Dumbledore’s either. So… Where does that leave us?”
“On Hari’s side, obviously,” Blaise answers with a smirk. “On the winning side.”
And the warmth that buzzes in Hari’s chest when none of them refute that statement doesn’t have anything to do with his magic at all.
-
Hagrid is bawling when Hari goes to visit him the next morning. “It’s all my ruddy fault!”
“... Huh?” Hari’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about, Hagrid?”
“I told ‘im how to get past Fluffy!” Hagrid sobs. “The one who gave me tha’ dragon egg… It must’ve been Quirrel! He was the only fella I told about it. And if I hadn’t told ‘im, then he wouldn’t have been able to hurt ya! I’m so sorry, Hari!! I’ll never drink again, I swear it!”
“It’s okay, Hagrid. He would’ve found a way either way, you know? I’m just glad he didn’t hurt Fluffy, and I’m alright. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“Yer really too kind,” Hagrid sniffles, wiping at his eyes as great, big tears fell to the ground. “Guess ya got a bit o’ Lily in ya after all. Speakin’ of…” Hagrid digs around in his pockets for almost an entire minute before he pulls out a leatherbound book and gives it to Hari. “I wanted ta make it up ta ya, so… Sent owls off ta all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ for photos. Knew ya only had the one o’ Lily so… D’ya like it?”
Nothing could have stopped Hari from tackling Hagrid in a hug. “I love it,” he whispers. “Thank you, Hagrid.” He may not be chasing after the ghosts of his parents, but that doesn’t make a gift like this any less special. The sheer amount of effort that went into this alone… “Thank you.”
Hari really, really wishes that he could tell Hagrid everything. Maybe someday…
-
The end-of-year feast passes them by without incident, and though most of the school seemed disgruntled at the sight of silver and green banners, Hari’s spirit is lightened by the fact that his friends were clearly happy for them.
“Honestly, it isn’t as if it really matters,” Hermione mutters the morning after, rolling her eyes when a group of passing Gryffindors boo at them. “Our exam results are far more important than the House Cup.”
Hari agrees, but so many of their friends look at Hermione like she’s just said something blasphemous that he keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t say a word at all until they’re looking up at the results for their year. “Yes!” he cheers. “I got first in Charms! And I actually passed Transfiguration!”
He barely scraped an Acceptable in it and is sitting at thirty-five out of forty in the rankings, but Hari will take what he can get. And his other scores are all consistently in the top five, alongside Hermione, Draco, Daphne, and Susan, with Neville and Hannah blowing them all out of the water in Herbology.
“Huh. I actually got second in Potions?” Blaise scratches his head with a laugh. “I mean, I know my stuff, but with Snape grading it…”
“Good job, Neville!” Hannah cheers with a sunny grin. “But I’m gonna beat you next year, just you wait!”
“Thank Merlin for Daphne and Susan,” Ron mutters. “Look at the scores for History of Magic outside of our group; they’re all awful.”
“With Binns teaching, is that really a surprise?” Pansy asks with a snort. “I always fall asleep in his class, and I actually try to pay attention.”
“We’ll get your scores up next year,” Daphne promises her. “And we’ll help you both as well, Vincent, Gregory. I know Snape’s been giving you a hard time.”
Draco sighs with relief. “Thank you. I understand the material, but I am not a good teacher.”
“Don’t I know it,” Millie says with a snort that sends the two bickering as they join the other students in the Great Hall.
They all chatter about their summer plans as they board the Hogwarts Express, stopping to ask an upper year to merge two compartments together so they could all fit in one, and despite stepping away from a place filled with so much magic that welcomes him so warmly, Hari is happy to be going home.
Huh… Home. Yeah, he supposes that he actually does have one of those now.
It’s good to be going home.
