A Garden of Secrets
After Mistress Isabell had dragged Hermione away, Harry stood in the hallway, watching until the last echo of footsteps faded. The corridor was quiet, yet the silence felt charged, weighted with everything that had just happened. He flexed his hand, which still stung faintly from the impact of slapping Hermione. He'd kept his expression calm, controlled, the mask of a master—yet something in him felt raw, unsettled.
Suddenly, he sensed someone nearby and turned, noticing a familiar figure in the shadows. Princess Alana stood just a few feet away, watching him with a thoughtful expression. Her silver eyes held no judgment, only quiet understanding, as if she had seen far more than what had just happened.
Harry felt his face flush, and he bowed immediately. "I apologize, Your Highness. I didn't realize you had witnessed that."
Alana stepped forward, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "There is no need to apologize, Master Harry." Her voice was gentle, calming. She reached out, taking his hand lightly in hers, and he felt a surprising comfort in the gesture. "Come with me. Let's take a walk."
She led him through the hall and out into the garden, the air cool and fragrant with the scent of evening blooms. They strolled in silence for a while, Harry focusing on the soft crunch of gravel beneath his feet, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.
As they reached a secluded path lined with low hedges and flowering vines, Alana turned to him, her gaze thoughtful. "Harry... may I ask about your life before you came here?"
Her question hung in the air, and Harry felt the familiar knot tighten in his chest. For a moment, he was tempted to brush the question aside, to keep his past locked away. But as he looked at Alana, saw the quiet empathy in her eyes, something within him cracked. And for the first time since coming to The House, he let himself speak freely.
"I grew up... well, it wasn't much of a childhood," he began, his voice low. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. They... they didn't care for me. To them, I was a burden." He paused, his gaze drifting over the shadows in the garden. "I was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs, treated more like a servant than family. I did the chores, stayed out of the way, and... and that was my life."
Alana's hand tightened slightly around his, her expression sympathetic. "That sounds... incredibly lonely."
Harry nodded, the memories washing over him, feeling strangely unburdened as he shared them. "And then, when I was eleven, I found out I was a wizard. That I had a place at Hogwarts, a school for magic." He managed a faint smile. "It was... my first real taste of freedom. But it didn't last."
Alana's gaze remained steady, encouraging him to continue.
"Not long after, I was forced into a different kind of prison," he murmured. "There was a war, and people started telling me that I was... the Chosen One. The one meant to save our world from Voldemort, a dark wizard." He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "I didn't ask for it. I never wanted to be a hero or a 'chosen one.' But everyone pushed me into it, and I—well, I didn't have a choice."
Alana's eyes softened. "So you were forced into a role you never wanted. A burden placed on you before you could even decide for yourself."
"Yes," he said, feeling the truth of it sink deeper. "I was surrounded by people who told me it was my duty, my destiny. Every year, another battle, another loss. My life was planned out for me by others, as if I were... a pawn on a chessboard. A weapon to be used, but never really me." He took a shaky breath, his hand flexing in hers. "For so long, I just wanted it all to end. I wanted to be free."
Alana nodded, listening with quiet intensity. "And now? Do you feel free here?"
Harry's gaze drifted over the dark blooms of the garden, the flowers thriving in shadow. "When I came to The House, it felt like... like a chance to start over. To finally be in control. Here, I could be someone powerful, someone respected. Not shoved into a cupboard, not forced into a war I didn't choose. I would be a master. I could be the one giving orders, shaping my own life for once."
He looked down, his voice softer now. "And yes... there are things I've done here that I never thought I'd be capable of. But for once, I'm the one making those choices. No one's telling me who I have to be."
Alana's expression didn't falter, her fingers brushing gently over the back of his hand in a comforting gesture. "Harry," she said, her voice filled with understanding, "you have endured so much. It's only natural to want to take back what was stolen from you. And it's brave of you to share all this with me. You don't have to apologize for the burdens you carry."
Harry closed his eyes, feeling a weight lift as her words settled over him. For so long, he had held this all inside, refusing to let anyone see the cracks, the raw places that had been left behind. But now, sitting here with Alana, it felt as if he'd finally found someone who could understand.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "For listening."
Alana rubbed his back gently, her touch grounding him, her presence steady. "Don't thank me," she replied softly. "Everyone deserves a place where they can be seen for who they truly are."
They sat together in silence for a while, watching as the stars began to prick the evening sky, the garden's shadows deepening around them. Harry felt lighter, as though he'd left some of his pain there in the garden, allowed it to slip away under the cover of darkness.
Later That Evening
As the dinner hour approached, they made their way back to the main hall. Harry and Alana took their seats, joining the family at the long, polished table. The conversations were light, touching on the day's events, plans for the coming days, and idle talk of The House's daily workings. But for Harry, the weight he'd been carrying since his arrival felt diminished, his mind quieter, his thoughts more focused.
Across the table, he caught Alana's eye, and she offered him a small, knowing smile. For the first time, Harry felt truly at ease with someone here, as though he'd found a quiet corner of the world that understood him, even if only in part.
After dinner, he made his way back to his quarters, his mind still turning over everything he had shared with Alana. Lying down, he felt a sense of calm settle over him, and for the first time in a long time, his sleep was peaceful, his thoughts stilled by the secrets he'd left behind in the shadows of the garden.