Family Means More Than Blood | By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols. |
9th September 1993: Morning
Harry watched the jolting wardrobe which stood at the front of the class, everyone standing and facing it. Everyone present had a pretty good idea what it was, they had covered the theory of it in Third Year after all. But now, they were actually going to get some practical experience and the dark haired Gryffindor could not wait to get started. He stood eagerly at the front, Fred and George on his right and Draco standing next to him on his left.
Somewhat worryingly, Draco had distanced himself from his fellow Slytherins significantly. In classes, he sat with Harry and Fred and George, he was rarely present at lunch times and at dinner times he kept to himself. Weekends and all his other free time which was not taken up with Quidditch practice or prefect duties seemed to be spent with the Gryffindors as well. Harry had asked the blond about his behaviour, asking if something had happened or if anything was wrong. The only reply he ever got was that Draco did not think they spent enough time together and he was merely fixing that. It was a strange reason and was only added to Harry's rapidly growing list of oddities that his best friend now possessed which needed to be researched which he was adamant he would start soon.
At that present moment in class, Professor Lupin was just doing a bit of revision with them, reminding them all quickly about the basics of what was at that moment locked in the wardrobe. Although he had only had one other lesson prior to the one he was having now, Harry had already decided that Professor Lupin was an excellent teacher. He was warm and friendly and encouraging and seemed to have a love of more practical learning, hence the presence of an actual, real life boggart instead of sitting them down and teaching them the theory. Though it did occur to Harry that maybe Professor Quirrel had not brought in a real boggart for them to look at in an attempt to hide what he was actually afraid of. He could just picture the shape the boggart might take if it had been to stand in front of Quirrel.
And that brought him to a round-about turn to the subject of his own fear just as the boggart was released and the first student stepped up to face it. What was his fear going to be? There were two main theories in his mind. Either his father dying or leaving him or Voldemort. Personally, his money was on the former. If he was completely honest, Voldemort scared him very little. The man did not seem to want to kill him after all and never even tried to hurt him, not really. But he supposed there was the possibility that there was some sort of subconscious fear somewhere deep inside of him, one he was not even fully aware of.
As George, who had gone up third after his brother, walked away, finished with the boggart, Harry stepped forward, still mostly lost in thought. He really did not think he would see Voldemort. No, he definitely thought he would see his family dead or walking away from him or something along those lines. After all, he had the whole abandonment-complex thing and how he felt when he was left alone...
And then it hit him, right then; the evening on the train and that vision he had earlier that year, both with the Dementors. His eyes widened noticeably when the boggart in front of him morphed into one of the floating, cloaked figures. He froze, his mind went blank and he took a step backwards. Despite the fact he did not want the creature anywhere near him for fear of the things it would make him feel, Harry could not quite get his mouth or arm to work in order to cast the charm needed. All he could do was stare at the terrible monster as it came closer to him.
Suddenly, Harry's view of the Dementor was cut off to be replaced with an up-close view of the dark material of the loose teaching robe which Professor Lupin wore over his Muggle suit. Everyone, not just Harry, watched in surprise as the professor protected the Gryffindor. Under all their gazes, the boggart shifted to resemble what looked a bit like a crystal ball and, with the speaking of the charm, a huge crack appeared right in the middle of it before it fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Quickly, Professor Lupin lifted it with a spell and locked it back into the old wardrobe.
The whole time, Harry just stood rooted to the spot, his thoughts and emotions still in disarray.
He was vaguely aware of Professor Lupin dismissing them all early and he just about felt someone lightly pulling on his shoulder in a silent order to turn and walk away. Harry obeyed stiffly, not in the least surprised that it was Draco behind him. The blond's arm came around his shoulders as he turned and, together with Fred and George, they silently left the DADA classroom.
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10th September 1993: Midday
People worried too much and they worried over the stupidest of things. Hermione worried about her grades, Violet worried about her parents and their opinion, McGonagall worried about every single Gryffindor even if there was no reason to. And, the number of people who worried about Harry seemed too long to list.
So his boggart had turned into a Dementor and he had frozen momentarily. So? Worse things had happened! It was not a reason for everyone to instantly start obsessing over him. It seemed like the only person who had not said anything to him about yet was Professor Lupin and it had happened in his class! His father had interrogated him to what seemed like an inch of his life, Dumbledore had checked on him, even High Priest Sephiran had written to him asked about it! Worst yet was Draco. There was something wrong with the Slytherin, there had to be because Harry refused to believe that anyone would fuss over him so much unless they were not in their right mind.
That was why Harry was standing in the courtyard, next to Draco, just as lunch break was ending. He was going to just come right out and ask the Slytherin what was going on with him. Thinking about it, he probably should have done this at the beginning of lunch rather than the end just in case Draco needed to be persuaded to give him a decent answer. It was too late though so Harry would just have to do his best in the short time they had now. The question had already been asked. Now, it was all a matter of patience. Harry had never really been much for patience when he was nervous though. When Draco had not answered him straight away, he had started to launch into hurried justifications.
"I only ask because you're not usually like this over something so small and it's not like this is the first odd thing. Over the last few months, well more like the last few years really, there had been times when you don't act like yourself. Well, I mean, you are yourself but it's like a part of you that I haven't seen before, or at least hadn't seen before the first time you did it. And I'm not being accusing or anything, I'm just, well, curious I suppose and I just thought..." Harry rambled on until a pale index finger was pressed to his lips gently, instantly hushing him.
"I don't know what's happening to me, Harry." Draco told him gently, his tone almost reassuring. All the while, his finger did not leave its position on the other boy's lips. "I remember a time when I felt differently, when I didn't feel a horrible ache deep inside my chest all the time, but it seems like it was so long ago."
"An ache?" Harry repeated after moving Draco's finger away from his mouth with both hands. "Are you ill then?"
"No, no I don't think I'm ill." Draco admitted quietly as he took a step closer to Harry, adjusting his hand so that he was holding Harry's hand rather than the other way around. Harry tilted his head back the slight amount which was required if he was going to keep his eyes fixed to Draco's. "Because whenever I'm close to you, the ache fades just that little bit. And when I'm touching you," with that, he drew Harry into his arms, resting his cheek on top of the dark hair on top of his head. "The ache fades even more."
A light blush covered Harry's cheeks as he was forced to press his face against the warm material of Draco's cotton shirt. Despite the fact what Draco was saying should not have made sense, it did to him. Harry remembered why Narcissa had been killed and he remembered the fear they had all felt when wondering if the same thing would happen to Draco. And it appeared to have happened because, from what little Harry already knew, the blond was describing and showing Veela tendencies. But surely it was too early? Veela came into their Inheritance when they turned sixteen he thought.
Harry felt a light pressure underneath his chin and he obeyed it, allowing his head to be lifted back up to look at Draco's face. The Slytherin's eyes were once again that strange silver colour rather than the usual grey and were looking at him with such intensity that it was rather un-nerving. Harry opened his mouth in order to say something but nothing came out as his voice caught in his throat nervously. That seemed to amuse Draco more than anything and he gave the slighter boy a small smile before leaning forward slowly.
A sense of deja vu swept through Harry at that moment as familiar emotions and feelings began to swirl inside him. Near the surface was the apprehension, the confusion, but underneath that was the calm, the joy, the undeniable feeling that this was right. The hand cradling the side of his neck was firm and reassuring; the warm, clean scented breath tickled his skin as pale lips drew closer to his own. Harry's eyes drifted shut of their own accord, the last thing he saw being Draco's heavy-lidded silver eyes. Was it actually going to happen this time? Were they going to actually kiss? Did he want that? It would undoubtedly change things between them both but would it be a change for the better or the worse? Not that there was much he could do about it now as Draco's lips were now so close to Harry's that he could feel their presence hovering just over his skin...
"Harry!" A happy voice called to him from the side suddenly.
The mood was totally broken. Harry's eyes flew open in an instant and he pulled away from Draco quickly, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks. Draco's eyes were also open now and, together, they both looked over to where the voice had come from. Over to their right stood Violet who was looking rather startled by their position.
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"
"No, um, you're not interrupting anything." Harry assured her quickly, a little too quickly.
He looked to neither Violet or Draco and so missed the look which was shared between them: a small, smug smirk from Violet and a dark, hatred-filled glare from Draco.
"Is there, uh, is there something you needed?"
"I have Potions now but I can't remember how to get to the classroom." She answered shyly, embarrassed by her apparent bad memory.
Harry finally lifted his head in order to look at her and offered a small smile. "I'll walk you down there then." He told her before looking back to Draco who was still glaring over at Violet. "I'll, um, I'll see you later, kay?" He asked carefully, seeing the irritation in the blond's eyes.
Draco's eyes flitted off of the First Year onto Harry and his glare softened slightly, very slightly. "Fine." He bit out, obviously making an effort to control his tone while speaking to the Gryffindor boy.
Harry gave him a small, shy smile in reply to that before turning and hurrying over to Violet. He rested a hand on the middle of her back in order to usher her forward and to indicate the speed they would be walking at in order to stop her from being too late. As they hurried off, Harry once again missed the actions of Violet as she looked over her shoulder and smirked triumphantly at Draco. It took all of the blond's self control not to go after the pair of Gryffindors and hex the girl into next week. In his opinion, Harry was too trusting; far too trusting.
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14th September 1993: Midday
Whenever Harry was in for some trouble, he always had a vision or a dream to guide him. So, when he was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled into an empty classroom, what with everything being quiet on the vision front recently, it was more than a little startling. He began to struggle against whoever it was that had him instantly but it was too little effect as whoever it was with their arms around him was substantially stronger than he was. The question of who it was behind him was soon answered when he was pushed up roughly against the wall, an arm held across his neck to stop him from moving around too much. To his great surprise, it was not Death Eaters or the such responsible for this but two Fifth Year Slytherins; Bethany Zabini and a boy whose name he did not know but who he recognised as someone who went around with Draco a lot.
"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" Harry demanded angrily, trying to get out of the boy's hold. "Let me go!"
"Relax Snape, we're all friends here." Bethany sneered, her tone anything but friendly. "After all, anyone who's dear to Draco is dear to us."
"I find that hard to believe considering my current position." Harry practically spat, his hands coming up to the taller boy's arm to try and pull it away to no effect. "Just say what you want to say and let me go." He grumbled with a dark scowl, giving up on trying to struggle free.
"Like I said, Snape, any friend of Draco's etc, etc." The girl smirked, stepping forward next to the male Slytherin's side so she was a lot closer to Harry. "And you're obviously a much closer friend now then ever, considering Draco's dumped us for you." Her smirk faded into an expression which was a lot less mocking and a lot more angry.
"Look, if you want to know why he's decided to spend more time with me you'd have better luck asking him. I don't know why he's suddenly decided to spend the majority of his time with me."
"We find that very hard to believe."
Harry's eyes glanced from the girl to the boy. "Is this guy simply here for muscle or does he actually have conscious thought?"
The pressure of the arm on Harry's neck increased with that remark.
"You're an annoying little prat aren't you?" Bethany sneered, leaning in so that her face was uncomfortably close to Harry's. "You must be a great shag, that's all I can say."
"Ugh, don't be so vulgar." Harry said with no small amount of distaste in his voice. "Besides, why would he need me for that when he has you two to whore for him?"
Bethany released a short, sharp, mocking laugh at that. "Ha, so the little Gryffindor isn't as clueless and virginal as the world thinks. Just you remember everytime you hug him goodbye that the previous night, he's been propositioned with countless sexual favours from every Slytherin over the age of fourteen and, more often than not, he accepts. He's not at all the person you think he is, so leave him alone, leave him with us."
With that, Harry was finally released. He leaned heavily against the wall, his hands coming up to soothe his sore neck, his head bowed as Bethany and the boy left the classroom, the door closing behind them. For some unexplainable reason, the words he had just heard brought tears to his eyes.
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31st October 1993: Mid-Morning
For the first time in his life, Harry was angry, really angry. It was not the kind of horrified anger at seeing someone killed by Voldemort nor was it the righteous anger he felt whenever he faced the Dark Lord. No, this was pure annoyed anger at his current situation. Never before had he crossed that line between being annoyed with a situation to being angry with it. He was now though and that anger was directed to his father of all people.
First, the bit which had annoyed him; he was not allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Why? Well, he was planning on finding out soon enough. That on its own had not been enough to totally make him lose his temper. No, that had happened seconds after he had found out he was not allowed to go by Professor McGonagall of all people. His father had not even told him! He had allowed Harry to plan a nice day out with Fred and George only to indirectly snatch it away at the very last possible second, disappointing Harry and the twins and causing the two Weasleys to suffer a guilt trip about going without Harry. He had managed to persuade them to go and have a good time eventually but it had taken some work.
That was what annoyed Harry the most though and made him cross the line from annoyance to anger, not that fact he was not allowed to go on its own but the fact he had not been told before hand; why the hell not? It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, there had been plenty of time before to tell him and yet not a word was spoken by anyone.
And that was what led Harry down to Severus's rooms in the dungeons to demand to know what was going on. To add insult to injury, Severus was being irritatingly calm about the whole thing, acting no different than he usually did. It was truly infuriating and only served to anger Harry further.
"I apologise for not having told you; I thought for sure I had." Severus told him smoothly from where he was sitting in his chair beside the lit fireplace, not looking up from the book he was reading.
Harry was standing directly in front of him, his hands on his hips and an indignant expression on his face. "So, in other words, you simply forgot to tell me."
"That's twisting my words and you know it."
"Okay, fine, we've established why you didn't tell me, now can I ask why in Merlin's name I'm not allowed to go to Hogsmeade?"
"It's for your own good."
"What do you mean it's for my own good? I thought the whole point of going to Hogsmeade was it was for our own good, to give us a break from school!"
"Leaving the school grounds, no matter how short a distance away the place is, is not safe enough for you at the moment Haryon." Severus told him calmly but firmly, the first, small signs of irritation starting to creep into his tone. He stood abruptly and glided across the room, heading towards one of the bookcases against the wall.
"Why? Because of Peter Pettigrew?" Harry asked, his tone disbelieving and causing Severus to pause and look at him. "Oh come now, Father, I've faced worse than a wandless Peter Pettigrew! Merlin, I've faced his boss and won on three separate occasions! I really don't think I've got anything to fear from him."
"Then it is just as well it is not your decision." The Potions Master ground out, well on his way to losing his temper, as he turned back to the bookcase to replace his book.
"Father, I'm fifteen years old now...!"
"And your point is?" His father cut him off quickly, spinning on his heel to face the teenager. "You still have another two years before you are legally of age, Haryon, and Merlin knows how much longer before you're mentally mature enough to make decisions for yourself."
"I never claimed to be an adult but neither am I still a child!" The teenager insisted heatedly, apparently losing his patience at the same rate as the man who had raised him. "You cannot hide me away in this school forever. Pettigrew is not a threat and if the past two years are proof of anything it's that Hogwarts isn't always the safehold you wish it was! Face it, I'm not really completely safe anywhere, not with Voldemort..."
"Do not say his name in front of me!"
"Oh for goodness sake, Father, it's a name, it's not going to hurt you! By fearing it you're just doing exactly what he wants you and everyone else to do. You're afraid of him, practically everyone is, but I'm not and I won't run away from this."
"You're accusing me of running away from the situation?" The professor asked in a deceptively calm and quiet voice.
"You're hiding from it and that's practically the same..." Harry hesitated a moment before deciding to hold nothing back. "They're both still cowardly."
That was obviously the last straw for Severus as he glared at the boy in front of him angrily, his eyes turning into dangerous slits. "Very well, you wish to go out there, play the adored Gryffindor Hero and get yourself killed? Then, by all means, go, because I simply cannot bring myself to care about you anymore." He spat out angrily before turning in a billow of robes and disappearing into the side door which led into his rooms. The door slammed shut behind him and then Harry was left alone in the deafeningly silent classroom.
For a few second, the boy just stood there, everything which had just happened sinking into him. Then, he took in a gulp of air and turned, dashing through the classroom, heading straight for the door. He flung it open upon reaching it and lurched out before slamming the door shut again and leaning back against it heavily.
Harry released a slow, shuddered sigh, regret stinging his heart. Admittedly, that was one of Severus's tamer come-backs but it was more the fact that, for the first time, Harry had actually said something which deserved the harsh words. It occurred to him that it must be what growing up was and he found that he did not like it one bit. The urge to go after his father and apologise before begging forgiveness was strong but he realised that it was unlikely that he would be listened to. It would probably be best to allow Severus some time to cool off before Harry attempted to apologise for the things he said. He needed time to cool down too or at least time to allow his erratic heart-beat and shaking limbs to stop. The just-passed argument had shaken him more than a little and all he wanted to do really was sit down somewhere quiet and calm down.
He allowed himself another moment or two to steady himself suitably before he pushed away from the door and started off down the corridor, intent on reaching his dorm room and collapsing onto his bed. He imagined he would probably stay there for a few hours and brood, maybe until dinner time. And he had plenty of reason to brood because it really had been his fault that time.
It was then that Harry began to wonder if, maybe, this was the beginning of the end of something, whether it was his ever constant worry of his father leaving him or whether that fear would come true and he would be left. He certainly would not blame his father if he decided to just dismiss him. After all, he was no longer a sweet little boy. He was at that awkward stage where he was not really anything. Too mature to be called a child and not mature enough to be considered an adult and what with all the hormones too. Plus, there was the issue with his true heritage which, as loathe he was to admit it, was bound to come out eventually. Yes, considering all of this merely intensified the feeling he had that the argument was the beginning of something, he was just unsure what that something was.
"Harry!" The voice of Violet suddenly cut through his thoughts and he lifted his head to see his younger sister standing by the door into the DADA classroom.
"Hi Violet." He greeted her, continuing the way he was going which just happened to take him past that classroom door. "Professor Lupin." He added politely, giving the two people a friendly smile despite the fact the last thing he felt like doing was smiling.
"Are you planning on doing anything now?"
Harry sighed. "No, no I suppose not." Well, he could hardly say he was going to brood could he? And he could not be bothered to think up a lie, his heart was not into it.
"Well then, I, uh, we were just wondering if, maybe, you could, I mean, if you want..." The girl stammered awkwardly, staring down at her feet as though they were the most interesting things in the world.
"We wondered if you'd be interested in coming to my office and having a spot of tea." Professor Lupin said eventually, saving his goddaughter from having to get it out of her mouth.
"Oh! Um..." Harry hummed, his smile fading, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, tea with his sister and her godfather would be a wonderful opportunity to get to know her a little better. On the other hand, this was Remus Lupin, one of the people who had helped make his father's life a misery when he was a student. Add that to the fact Severus was not exactly pleased with him anyway. "I'm, uh, I'm not sure that would be the best idea..."
"If you're worried about anything your father might say, I can always have a word with him or claim I gave you an oddly timed detention." The DADA professor offered with a playful smile.
Harry considered it again and found he could not deny the desire he felt to get to know Professor Lupin better as well as Violet. The man seemed so unlike Black and Potter and he had to admit that from what his father had told him, Lupin had never actually done anything to him, rather he just never stopped it.
"Alright then." Harry decided, giving them another smile and a small nod. "I'd love to have tea with both of you."
"Good." Professor Lupin smiled as Violet beamed beside him. He pushed open the door into the classroom open and the girl practically skipped through it. "Come on in then." He invited and Harry beamed a smile at him as he passed the older man. Lupin replied with a happy smile of his own and then followed, guiding the door shut after himself.
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31st October 1993: Late Afternoon
"I think I must be growing up." George mumbled glumly as he, his twin brother, and Harry made their way up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower. The two Weasley's had just returned from their trip to Hogsmeade with a surprising lack of Zonko products with they. They had bought plenty of sweets though, including some to cheer up Harry who they figured would probably need cheering up.
"What makes you say that?" Harry asked around the tip of the length of red-rope liquorice which hung out of his mouth.
"There was nothing in Zonko's which...Inspired me." George told them forlornly, if a little over-dramatically, as they paused to allow the staircase they were standing on to stop moving. "It just seemed like it was the same old stuff that's there every time."
"Well, you do go there every chance you get. And I shouldn't think they can change their stock completely every month or so."
"No, I think George's got a point, Harry." Fred disagreed, sounding thoughtful. "But I don't think it's because we're growing up, I think it's got more to do with the fact that Zonko's just doesn't have any original stuff anymore. It's all the same, every time. Even new products are just remakes of the old ones."
"You know what'd be wicked? If we had our own joke shop." George told them, his voice sounding dreamy towards the end.
"Oh, that would be too good. We could design and make our own stock!"
"And then, one shop would turn into two, then two into three, then three into four and the next thing you know, there'll be a Weasley Weezes in every major shopping Alley in Britain."
"Weasley Weezes?" Harry echoed, raising an eyebrow slightly.
George shrugged. "Just a working title."
"We can always change it." Fred agreed with a nod.
Harry smiled in amusement as the twins continued to plan for this shop they were apparently set on opening someday now. It gave them something to do at least. They set off up the stairs again as they had stopped moving but they had not gone far when they came across the back of a rather large grouping of Gryffindors, right outside the entrance into the tower. The smile from Harry's face fell and the twins stopped talking when they reached the crowd, all three frowning lightly in confusion.
"Oi, Ginny!" Fred called to his younger sister upon spotting her in the crowd.
She turned around upon hearing her name and instantly started to head towards them when she spotted them.
"What's going on up there?"
"It's the Fat Lady; she's gone." Ginny told them with a slightly frantic tone.
The eyes of all three boys widened slightly at that. Then, before he knew it, Harry was being dragged through the crowd by Fred and George, one twin on either side of him. "Make way!" George called as they forced their way through their fellow Gryffindors.
"Saviour of the Wizarding World..."
"...And his two friends..."
"...Coming through." Fred called as people finally began to move out of their way now that they knew it was not just any old snoop. Of course, it was just any old snoop because Harry knew for a fact the twins only pulled the "hero" card with him when they did not think it was serious. If they thought it really was something to worry about, they would have kept their distance and remained silent.
Finally, after a lot of pushing and shoving, the three boys had reached the front of the crowd and were in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. And, low and behold, there was no Fat Lady present and the canvas had a large, diagonally cut slash running down from the right hand side to the left. Slowly, Harry stepped further forward as Fred and George stopped to gape openly at the disturbing sight. For Harry, there was a strange sensation coming from the portrait, seemingly radiating from the slash. He stopped in front of the painting and for a moment or two, simply studied it. Then, just as Dumbledore was approaching from behind the crowd, Harry reached forward with his right hand, unaware of the Headmaster's approach, and went to brush the folded over canvas back into position. However, the moment his fingers brushed the paint-covered material, everything around him faded into darkness.
Everything was completely silent. He still stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady but He was no longer Himself, He was Peter Pettigrew, in human form. The silence was deafening as He watched the hands of the body He was in try and force the portrait to open. The Fat Lady looked as though she was yelling but nothing could be heard. Probably to stop the woman making so much noise and possibly alerting someone's attention, a wand was raised and a spell of some sort was used to create the deep cut in the canvas. A sense of satisfaction occurred to Him and He assumed that the Fat Lady had been effectively silenced.
Noise was the first thing that came back to Harry as his vision left him and reality began to sink back in. Loud, frantic chattering all around. Next came physical sensation and he realised that he was standing upright on his own, his hand still lightly touching the ripped canvas though there was the presences of three people very close to him, no doubt ready to catch him in case he suddenly collapsed. And then there was his sight which came back in such a rush that it was rather disorientating and caused him to sway a bit. Arms were instantly around him despite the fact that Harry probably would not have fallen.
"He has a wand." Harry breathed, almost to himself, as he stared at the torn portrait a few centimetres away from him.
"Who does Harry?" That was Dumbledore's voice, coming from behind; he must have been the third presence, the other two being Fred and George. The rest of the surrounding Gryffindors were silent now, obviously all desperate to hear what it was Harry was going to say.
"Peter Pettigrew. He's here."
Shocked chatter immediately exploded throughout the students and Harry winced at the over-bearing sound. He vaguely heard Dumbledore tell Filch to secure the castle before the twins made him turn around and he was guided off with them, following on behind Dumbledore.
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1st November 1993: Afternoon
"Good afternoon, Haryon." High Priest Sephiran greeted Harry as he entered the Headmaster's office.
The teenager turned from where he was petting Fawkes and smiled at the Elvish man. "Good afternoon, High Priest, it's nice to see you again."
"Indeed, but the joy is dampened somewhat by the news Professor Dumbledore has just given me. It seems Peter Pettigrew has become more of a threat than any of us first anticipated if he was able to make it into the school."
"My father seemed to anticipate it a little too well." Harry muttered darkly, glaring off to the side of the room.
Sephiran settled his books on Dumbledore's desk before turning towards his student and pausing. "Is everything all right, Haryon?"
"Father and I aren't on speaking terms at the moment. And it's most likely my fault."
"Come now, Haryon, an argument cannot be had by only one person; both or all parties are usually at fault if only because they participated instead of calming the situation." Sephiran said in a soothing tone as he came up behind his student and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Harry made no reply and only continued to stare into nothing.
"I've been told you had another vision yesterday?"
"Yes, it happened when I touched the ripped portrait of the Fat Lady." Harry told him as he allowed himself to be led over to the two chairs which had been set up in anticipation for their lesson.
"I see." The Elf mused, passing Harry as he sat down and moving towards the chair opposite him in order to sit as well. "Now, think back," he instructed, lowering himself into the seat. "Was there a reason you touched it? Did it feel to you as though something had happened to the portrait, something you couldn't see but you could sense?"
"Yes. I can't really explain how it felt though. It was just...Different. Neither good nor bad, just there. I've never felt anything like it before which I guess is one of the reasons I found it so curious."
"And what exactly was it that happened in your vision?"
"I was in Pettigrew's body. I watched through his eyes as he cast some sort of spell on the Fat Lady in order to stop her from calling out for someone to help that created the rip in the canvas. There wasn't any sound and I didn't get to see for what reason he wanted to get into the Tower or whether he got in or not."
"Those elements, although would have been useful, will not be missed. However, at least you have now answered the question we all had of whether the rip in the canvas was actually the mark of a curse or hex. Professor Dumbledore has been quite reluctant to let anyone do anything for fear of a booby-trap of some kind. I understand that the entire school slept in the Great Hall last night."
"Yes, we did." Harry confirmed before wrinkling his nose. "It's not something I'd want to repeat; the floor was awfully uncomfortable."
Sephiran laughed lightly at that comment before composing himself again. "This is the first time that you have experienced a vision by touching an object, isn't it?"
"It 's happened once before, but only once."
"Well I brought you a book on it." The man smiled as he took one of the books he had brought with him off of the pile on Dumbledore's desk and held it out to his student. "As always, it is best to learn as much as you can about these things. And once again, Young Haryon, you are powerful beyond your years; such a thing is usually taught when a Priesthood is coming to an end, around the age of seventeen."
Harry accepted the book and turned it over in his hands curiously for a moment.
"Now, for our lesson today, I thought we would start on another area which is advanced as well; bringing on visions and such yourself and controlling the ones which are triggered by unknown factors. It will be useful if only so that the blood pressure of those who care about you remains normal for more than five seconds at a time."
"I don't mean to be a worry for you all." Harry said quietly, his head bowing sadly.
"We worry for you, Haryon, because we care and we are not going to stop caring just because the Great Lady deems you strong enough to be a hero." The Elf assured him gently and Harry's eyes widened a little in surprise; of all the people who had ever called him a hero, High Priest Sephiran was not one of them.
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