A plot and a plan
Chapter 22: A plot and a plan
Ten minutes after coming to the realization that they need a plan the wall is covered in neon yellow sticky notes.
It had been Hermione's idea to use part of the dorm wall as a kind of idea board, so they can write down all of the problems they have and come up with practical and possible ways to overcome the issues at hand.
So now the wall is covered in sticky notes.
“Okay, so let's go over the main problems and what we need to do to eliminate said problems.” Hermione points a pen at one of the sticky notes. “We can’t have the Wixen public against Harry, thinking he is turning dark. We already have Dumbledore and Quirrell to contend with, we need allies not more enemies.”
“But how do we convince people of that? I mean Harry hasn’t got a lot going for him, he’s a bloody parsel-mouth for Merlin's sake and he said it before, he’s friends with us. Me and George are basically rejects from society at this point, everyone thinks Luna’s crazy-”
“They only call me crazy because they do not understand. It makes them feel better if they think all the strange and wonderous things in the world are simply mad.” Luna chips in idly.
Harry smiles. “Selena said the something similar yesterday. ‘They fear what they do not understand’.”
“-Hermione’s smart but people think she’s weird instead of brilliant because she’s a muggle born. And Blaise is Blaise.” Fred finishes as if no one else spoke.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Blaise grumbles, glaring at Fred. “Everyone else gets descriptions of why no one likes them but I just get ‘Blaise is Blaise’ surely you can do better than that.”
“You're the grumpiest person alive, your mother is rumoured to have killed seven out of seven of her husbands, and you're just generally quite terrifying.” Fred smirks. “Happy?”
“Overjoyed.” Blaise deadpans, rolling his eyes, but harry thinks he looks a little bit pleased.
“Wait.” Hermione says shaking her head in confusion. “Did your mother actually kill all her husbands?”
Blaise sighs. “Yes. She did.”
“Jesus Christ.” Harry mutters. “She sounds fun.”
Blaise laughs. “You know my mother, Potter. Does it really surprise you?”
“You’ve met Blaise's mum?” George asks.
“Not in person.” Harry scowls darkly, thinking of the screeching voice from the howler.
“How is she not in prison?” Hermione says incredulously.
“She’s good at covering her tracks.” Blaise meets Harry’s eyes. “Rumours are not proof.”
“Rumours are not proof.” He echoes quietly. There were rumours about Harry amongst the neighbours near number four privet drive. He would hear them gossip to each other sometimes when he was weeding the front garden ‘Have you seen that boy? He looks half starved!’ or ‘I wonder how the poor thing got that black eye. Do you think they did it?’ They never did anything about it though. They gossiped, but never brought it to the police or anyone who might have saved him, because... rumours are not proof. Or maybe they just didn’t care enough to try. Who knows?
Hermione look between Harry and Blaise with narrowed eyes. “What am I missing?”
Harry shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks away from Blaise. “Nothing Hermione. Let's get back to the plan.”
“I second that.” Blaise adds.
Hermione is still frowning at them as if she is hoping the answers will be painted on their foreheads or told behind their eyes, but when neither of those things happen, she nods slowly.
“I think we have to start small.” George muses. “Maybe see if we can befriend a few of the neutral Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. If we can create trusted connections between Slytherins and other houses... I think that's as good as any place to start.”
“If Wixen see that Harry is befriending more neutral and maybe even light families... that would help his reputation quite a lot I reckon.” Fred says pressing a finger to his lips thoughtfully.
“We should start with the Ravenclaws since me and Hermione are in that house, we already have something to work with. We don’t know anyone in Hufflepuff.” Luna says as she pets panda who is laying on her chest while Luna is sprawled out on the rug looking up at the ceiling.
“Maybe we could invite Padma Patil to study with us? She is from a light family and her sister is a Gryffindor. Maybe she could help us get allies from the lion's den.” Hermione scribbles something down on a sticky note and sticks it to the wall as she speaks. Harry can vaguely make out the words ‘infiltrate the lion's den’ on the square piece of paper.
“The Lions hate us the most.” Blaise sighs. “Yet they are the allies we need most if we have any hope at turning Harry's public image in our favour.”
Fred groans. “If only Percy didn’t hate us then we would already have an ally in the den.”
“Percy’s a prat he wouldn’t help us even if still liked us.” George huffs.
“Neville.” Luna states like it's obvious.
“Neville... Longbottom?” Fred says dubiously.
“Isn’t he the laughing stock of Gryffindor?” Blaise scoffs.
“Only because his magic is all jumbled.” Luna hums waving her hand around.
“Jumbled?” Harry asks curiously.
“Next time you see him Harry, look at his magic, it's all messy and tangled, also his wand does not like him.”
“What if we offer to help him.” Hermione taps the pen against her hand thoughtfully. “You could help him unjumble his magic Harry. Then the Gryffindor's will stop making fun of him, and he would owe that to you. Then we would have a lion on our side.”
“I guess he could be a valuable ally.” Blaise mutters. “He is from a noble light family.”
“I could probably help his magic.” Harry shrugs. “I’ll be careful about how much of my power I show though, I don’t really want anyone other than you guys to know the extent of my abilities.”
“Perfect! Okay so... to try and get Harry to be seen as ‘good’ we will ally with other houses and try to build connections with light and neutral families. We have just over a month before the summer hols start so let's stick with Padma and Neville and next term we can try to find more people.” Hermione says looking satisfied.
“Good plan well done us!” Fred grins.
As much as Harry does not want to have to be doing any of this, he has to admit plotting with his friends is kind of fun.
“What about the headmaster and the two-faced teacher.” Selena hisses slithering over from the hearth to curl up in his lap. “They are the biggest threat.”
“What about the Quirrell and Dumbledore problem?” He asks stroking Selena’s scales. “Any ideas on that front.”
“We could kill them. Dead things are not threatening.” Selena says.
“Selena thinks we should kill them.” He chuckles.
“Of course she does.” Blaise smirks.
“Isn’t that Selena’s number one solution to most things?” Fred laughs.
“Most of the time, yes.” Harry smiles fondly at her.
“Sadly, murder is not an option unless we want to get thrown into Azkaban.” Hermione says. “I think our plan with the allies will appease Dumbledore aswell. If what you think is true Harry, that he wants to use you as a public figurehead - a mascot of sorts. Then he will be pleased if you make connections with the light families.”
Harry hums in agreement.
“We’ll keep an eye on him, and we will trust him under no circumstances. If you can avoid it do not be alone with him and we have to be nice to him. Never ever say what you truly think.” Hermione finishes, looking around at them waiting for anyone to object, when no one does she nods.
“Quirrell though. He is a big problem.” George says gravely. “And Harry, you know how you said his eyes flashed red? Do you know what that means?”
Hermione draws in a sharp breath. “A person who is possessed will most likely experience change in eye colour to red or black during the possession of their body.” It sounds like she’s quoting directly from a textbook. “Quirrell is being possessed?”
Luna shoots up from the rug. “Yes!” She sounds entirely too happy about the fact.
“Err Luna? I don’t think this is a good thing.” Fred is looking at Luna like she’s grown two heads.
“No! I'm not exited.” Luna shakes her head like she’s trying to clear water out her ears. “In one of my dreams Quirrell was covered in shadows and he had two faces. I didn’t know what it meant it was... confusing, my dreams often are. But now I know what it is! He is possessed.” Then she frowns, her nose scrunching up. “Oh, that's bad.”
“Just a little bit, yeah.” Harry says laughing slightly and reaching for her hand to pull her back down onto the rug.
“So Quirrell is possessed, but... why? And who?” Blaise mutters frowning as he pets Freya, who is laying across his lap.
Harry lets out a sigh. He has a feeling he knows. He wishes it wasn’t true, he wishes there was any other answer, but, well... luck has never been on Harry’s side. “I think I know. None of you will like the answer.”
“Who do you think it is.” Hermione asks hesitantly. His five friends look at him and he wishes for a brief moment he could turn back time and never meet them. Not because he doesn’t want them in his life, no... they are the best thing that has ever happened to him. He wishes it not for himself but for them, he thinks they would be better of leaving him behind and forgetting about him, because harry knows, deep in his bones that his life is meant to be tragedy. Doom and gloom, pain and even... death. He does not want them to be a part of that. He feels as if he has condemned them to a short life, all because he let them be his friends.
Luna shakes her head avidly. “This is our destiny too. You cannot stop the future Harry, it is foretold.” She whispers softly, like she has heard his thoughts. He knows she’s no legilemence, Luna has said in the past that sometimes words just drop into her head and she knows that she needs to say them, he guesses this is one of those instances.
Her words don’t make him feel any better if he’s being entirely honest, but he pushes down his fears and forces himself to speak. “Voldemort. I think it’s Voldemort possessing Quirrell.”
The twins flinch violently at the name, Fred almost toppling of the side of his bed. Blaise flinches too just a slight twitch in his face. Hermione claps a hand to her mouth in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. Luna just squeezes his hand and stays silent.
“B-but You-Know-Who is dead.” Fred says shakily.
“No. I... I don’t think he is.” He shakes his head, looking at them mournfully. “I remember the night he tried to kill me-”
“Oh Harry,” Hermione murmurs in a hushed tone.
“-my mum stepped in front of me and sacrificed her life in exchange for mine, she did some sort of spell or ritual moments before he used Avada Kedavra on her. Once she was dead on the floor, he stepped over her and pointed his wand at me... he cast Avada Kedavra, it hit me square in the head.” He pushes is curls of his forehead showing them the lightning scar were the magic crackled down his face, just missing his eye and crossing over his eyebrow and forehead. “The curse hit me, but it didn’t kill me, I think it was my mum’s spell that saved me. But the curse didn’t rebound either. Voldemort didn’t die, there was no body, he just... disappeared.”
His friends' faces are woven with horror, Luna has tears dripping down her face. None of them look like they know what to say, so he pushes on.
“I think that night, he was weakened, maybe even close to death. I think he fled, somewhere where he could rebuild his strength, and now... I think he’s possessing Quirrell. I’m not sure why though.”
“The unicorns.” George says, even more horror dawning on his freckled face. “It's an old legend that unicorn blood can revive someone who is on the brink of death. They will live a half-life, a-a cursed life... but they will still be alive. What if Quirrell killed those poor unicorns for you-Know-Who to drink from.”
“Oh my god.” Hermione says looking panicked. “What the hell are we going to do? We can’t fight Voldemort, we’re children. I’ve read about him; it’s said he’s the most powerful dark lord ever to exist in Britain! Some texts even say he was the most powerful dark lord ever to exist, anywhere!”
“What about Snape? We could tell him. Maybe he could do something.” Fred suggests weakly.
“Without proof?” Hermione looks around at them wildly. “All of this is based on meagre theories! No one in their right mind would believe it.”
“And no one would want to believe it.” Blaise says quietly. “If this information was brought to light the Wixen public would just call you crazy, because they’re worst fear is living in yet another civil war.”
Harry shakes his head wearily. “We can’t worry about any of that right now. For now, Voldemort is weak, I doubt he could cause much chaos if he’s only able to operate through another's body. I mean how long will Quirrell even survive, with a weakened dark lord attached to his body?”
“Probably not much longer.” George mutters thoughtfully. “I wonder what happens to You-Know-Who when Quirrell dies.”
“I guess he would just revert back to whatever state he was in before he latched onto Quirrell?” Hermione says looking slightly calmer at the thought of Professor Quirrell dying.
“But if Quirrell doesn’t have much time left to complete whatever task Voldemort wants him to complete, won’t he become more desperate? What if the task is trying to kill Harry, if he’s desperate enough he could just waltz right up to Harry in class and shoot him with the killing curse.” Fred stands from his bed and begins pacing.
“I’m sure that makes Harry feel so much better, thanks Weasley.” Blaise rolls his eyes.
“It’s fine Blaise. And I don’t think that’s the main task.” Harry muses. “He’s had plenty of chances to kill me if he wanted to. I reckon it's something else.”
“The third-floor corridor.” Luna says suddenly in her musical voice. “The trapdoor. The dog was guarding something and we know Quirrell is interested in it. What if there is something under there that You-Know-Who wants? Something that could bring him back.”
“Yes! It must be that.” Hermione says snapping her fingers, eyes sharp. “But what could it be?”
“I have no idea.” George shakes his head, then his expression turns sheepish. “But me and Freddy do have something we want to share with the group.”
“We do?” Fred asks bemused.
“Yes, you know the thing we’ve been doing.”
Fred groans. “Yeah. I guess we should probably tell them.”
“What have you two done.” Hermione looks between the twins sternly.
“You know how we all promised we would never go to the third-floor corridor ever again.” George looks down at his feet, not meeting anyone's eyes.
“We kind of did it anyway.” Fred finishes hesitantly.
“Oh, for Salazar's sake.” Blaise mutters, looking very much done with this whole situation.
“Do you two have a death wish! How the hell did you sort Slytherin? This is Gryffindor reckless nobility through and through!” Hermione shouts at them, her hands gesturing angrily and her magic crackles around her, though Harry doesn’t think anyone else notices it.
“Oi, this was not reckless! We were very careful, and our goal wasn’t to be noble it was to gather intel, to know what the enemy is up to!” Fred shouts, pausing in his pacing to glare at Hermione in offence.
“What if someone saw you! What if Quirrell caught you following him and decided to kill you!” Hermione says getting to her feet, and glaring right back.
“Were not stupid Hermione! We used Harry’s invisibility cloak and a muffling spell so no one would hear us!”
Harry groans, dragging his hands down his face. “So that’s why you kept asking to borrow it.”
“You were letting them use your cloak!?” Hermione, asks incredulously. “And you didn’t think to ask why?!”
“I thought they were using it to get back at Malfoy.” He admits feeling abit stupid for not inquiring further, about what the twins were doing with his ancient family relic. “But it doesn’t matter, it’s done now anyway. What did you find?” He directs the last part at the twins.
Fred goes to speak but George pushes him down onto the bed and gestures for him to shut up. “That’s enough shouting, Fred. Let me speak.”
Harry is secretly very grateful; he hates when people shout it reminds him of Vernon. Fred looks annoyed but he crosses his arms and stays quiet.
“Well, the first thing is that there is absolutely zero protection on the corridor or the room that we can find, apart from the dog of course. So that would go back to our earlier idea that Dumbledore wants students to find that place. And it’s seeming even more possible now we know that he’s willing to use illegal compulsions on children.” He says rapidly, looking pointedly at Harry. “We also overheard some of the professor's talking about it. And from what we understand it seems like all the professors have been asked to contribute to protecting whatever is being guarded down there. Considering there's no wards or anything we think it must all be under the trapdoor. Our best guess is that the three headed dog is Hagrid the gamekeeper's contribution, and we found out if we play music to the dog, it falls asleep, so we had the chance to peak down the trapdoor, and all we could see was a huge tentacly plant, which we think is sprouts contribution.” He pauses for a moment, catching his breath. “We don’t know what else is down there but I think it might be like a series of obstacles you have to pass before you can get whatever Dumbledore wants protecting.”
“That’s... actually very good intel.” Hermione says looking quite astonished. “How did you manage to find out all that.”
“We’re not the first Weasleys to ever be sorted Slytherin for nothing.” Fred rolls his eyes. “We can be sneaky.”
“Yes. I see that.” Hermione concedes. “But what about Quirrell?”
“We’ve seen him loitering around the third floor almost every time we went down there. He was always muttering to himself. We thought he was just abit cuckoo, but I'm starting to wonder...”
“You think he was speaking to Voldemort.” Harry sighs. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”
“So... You-Know-Who is using Quirrell to get to whatever Dumbledore is protecting. The teachers are a part of protecting whatever it is and Dumbledore for some insane and deluded reason wants students to be able to access the third-floor corridor.” Blaise says slowly.
“No.” Luna whispers, turning to look directly at Harry. “Not just any student... Harry. He wants Harry to go down there.”
“What?” Hermione says stiltedly.
But Harry freezes in place, he stops breathing, he stops feeling, he stops existing, as cold realization drips down his spine.
Dumbledore winks at him as he says “I must tell you, that this year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”
Dumbledore giving him a cloak of invisibility
Dumbledore luring him through the castle with compulsions, coincidently the same night Snape was confronting Quirrell about dead unicorns
Dumbledore’s eyes widening in pleased surprise, when Harry admits he was exploring the castle at night
“Oh.” He breathes out, crashing back down to earth. “He wants me to stop Voldemort again.” Then Harry begins to laugh, it sounds disturbing even to his own ears. “He wants me to stop Voldemort from stealing his stuff! You know what? I bet he set all this up, I bet he knows Quirrell is possessed!” Harry laughs and laughs until he can’t breathe, because it's just so funny. He’s a plaything for yet another spiteful adult...Vernon and petunia, now Dumbledore and Voldemort.
“Harry stop.” Blaise is kneeling Infront of him. “Breath.”
He tries he really tries, but for some reason his lung just will not work. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” He stutters, gasping and shaking his head. “I can’t kill Voldemort, my-my mum killed h-him, not m-me. L-lily Evans P-otter stopped him. Not me!” He looks around wildly, through bleary eyes. Willing them all to understand that he is not the saviour everyone says he is. His mum was the brilliant one, she was the one who was brave and powerful, standing against death without fear, she is the one who should be famous. Not Harry potter the pathetic freak from privet drive. “I can’t be w-what they want me t-to be. I can’t be what y-you want me to be.”
Fred appears in Harry’s line of vision, extending a hand that holds a small vial of potion. “Calming draught.”
Harry takes it gratefully and swallows it in one gulp. He’s never tried a calming draught before, but it immediately becomes his favourite thing ever to exist. The panic leaves him almost immediately, his heart slows down and his lungs stop fighting every breath.
“Better?” Fred asks quietly.
“Yeah, much better. Thanks.”
Fred nods and goes to sit back down. Blaise moves to sit down next to Harry.
“Harry.” Hermione begins to speak. “We don’t give a flying frog whether or not you saved the Wixen world. We’re not friends with you because of what your famous for - we’re friends with you because we like you.”
“Just because we’re planning to show the Wixen world what they want to see, it doesn’t mean any of it is real. It's an act. To us you are and always will be, just Harry. Without all of the saviour bull crap.” George adds.
“Dumbledore is straight up insane to pit an eleven-year-old against You-Know-Who, no matter your history with the evil bugger. But if it comes to it Harry, we won’t let you fight alone.” Fred declares, staring around the room like he’s daring anyone to disagree.
“The headmaster is a fool. So is Quirrell and the dark lord attached to him. I find that usually fools end up dead.” Blaise mutters darkly.
“The Wixen world can have Harry potter, and all the lies and expectations that come with him... but you, the real you, Harrison Evans Charlus Potter, shall be ours.” Luna says in her soft voice, reaching to squeeze his hand, gently.
Harry will not cry. He will not cry. Nope. Nope. He doesn't think it's a good idea to speak right now in case he accidently unleashes waterworks from his eyes. So instead, he just nods.
They will weave stories, and lies, and plots, and plans, together from this room. They will make themselves safe from the adults in this world, they will find allies. Two Ravenclaws and four Slytherins. But whatever they present to the world does not have to be the truth, his true self does not have to be the boy-who-lived, to his friends he can be whatever the hell he wants to be.
~~~
“Okay, so, for now we’ll keep a very close eye on Quirrell until we can find some solid proof. Then we can go to professor snape and hope to Merlin, he can help us.” George says, resting his chin on his hands thoughtfully.
“Yes, and we will speak to Neville and Padma as soon as we get a good moment.” Hermione stares at all the sticky notes on the wall determined.
“Avoid Dumbles as much as possible, try not to wish him dead and... don’t let him know we think we know what he’s up to.” Fred adds with a nod.
“Also, I think it’s best if none of us walk around the castle alone.” Blaise suggest folding his arms over his chest. “And Fred and George, no more covert missions. Unless we know when you’ve gone and when you’ll be back. Then if we think somethings wrong, we can come and intervene.”
“Good point.” Hermione says approvingly. “Do you two agree to that?” She asks the twins, but to Harry it sounds more like a threat.
“Yep, fine with us.” Fred agrees quickly, and George nods.
“This is a good plan.” Luna bobs her head in approval as she traces strange symbols into the rug with her pointer finger.
“Yeah.” Harry says with a smile. He feels more prepared now than ever before, it's so much better to not be facing all his life-threatening problems alone. Harry feels fairly confident that this is going to work.