Plans
Harry closed his eyes and reached with his mind into the far depths of the afterlife, feeling for a presence he didn’t know well; One that was nimble and slippery and could evade his request with ease, if they chose to do so. Only it wasn’t a request this time, it was a demand. He didn’t really care about it actually. He was far past caring about anything concerning Death.
It was almost like a cold, clammy hand was gripping his and Harry suppressed a shiver. He felt another presence in his mind , invading and spreading and he was close to cutting the connection entirely, when the stifling feeling desisted and he felt the presence of another being in front of him. When he opened his eyes, he looked directly into Death’s veiled face. A row of teeth flickered between their lips and Death indicated a bow towards Harry’s mother, who was sitting at his bedside. “Good evening, everyone. How can I be of help?”
“Death. It’s nice to see you. I’m sure you’re aware of what happened this evening and we were wondering –“ “Why isn’t my mother’s love magic working anymore?”, Harry interrupted her and his mother smacked him on the shoulder lightly. “Harry! Manners!”
Harry didn’t really care about his manners in this situation, but taken aback by his mother enough for Death to take the opportunity and a word in themselves. – Or they would have, if not for – “But seriously, what the hell is going on here? Did you have something to do with this? Because if my son thinks I don’t love him enough anymore to protect him from Voldemort because of you, we’re gonna have words, my friend! Now, talk!”
“Oh goody, I was afraid I’d miss the fun stuff”, Harry’s father said as he materialized next to him. His mother didn’t even bother to chastise him this time.
Death was ruffling their cloak, almost as if in an unconscious, nervous gesture. “Of course your mother still loves you”, Death began and Harry breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. He had known that, of course. It was just nice to hear it again. “The lack of protection you experienced in Tom’s presence stems not from a lack of love but from the fact that you are dead.”
“I’m dead?” “He’s dead?”, his parents echoed in varying shades of worry.
Death inclined their head. “I thought we already established that. As the Master of Death your son is at least partially dead in his soul, even though he is living at the moment. How else would he call on you dead folks you think?”
“Okay, but how does me being dead have anything to do with the protection being gone?”, Harry asked. “Well, it might be one of the rare instances when Albus Dumbledore was at least partially wrong”, Death said to Harry’s surprise. “He said the protection was in your very skin. Your soul, perhaps, would have been more fitting. And Voldemort’s soul, mangled as it is, cannot come into contact with a soul as pure as yours.”
“It feels weird to call it pure”, Harry muttered, but his father was having none of it: “Of course you have the purest of souls, we wouldn’t expect any different from our son”, he was grinning, but was quickly shut up by Lily with a simple stern look. “So, what does that mean now? Isn’t Harry’s soul pure anymore?”
“Not in the way it was before”, Death said calmly. “When he died, he lost a part of his soul to Death – to me, so to speak.”
“So it’s your fault he almost got strangled by Voldemort down there”, Lily said dangerously. Death stopped and stared at her. Their eyes weren’t visible under the deep black shadow of the hood, but they didn’t need to be for everyone to know they were… not exactly scared, but definitely respectful of Lily’s temper. “You could say that, but I also gave him the tools to get himself out of that situation. Without me he wouldn’t have been able to call on Merlin for help. And that’s what saved him, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be smart with me now, I’m not finished with you!” “Lily, dear… Remember what we talked about. Look, deep breaths… Now, unclench your fists – and not by hitting Death in the face, please – , great, now look at me and think about how much you love me”, James smiled sweetly and Harry’s mother rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help a small smile herself. Harry felt like he was intruding, somehow. It was a feeling he was only used to from Hermione and Ron during one of their moments, so it felt somewhat familiar, but also weird experiencing it with his parents.
“While we’re on the subject, Merlin told me you are the reason he helped me in the first place. What about that?”
“What about it?”, Death asked. “Did you think I wasn’t able to do it on my own?” “Well, you didn’t, did you? Merlin saved your ass tonight.” Harry tried to ignore how weird it was to hear Death say the word ‘ass’. “And that wouldn’t have been necessary if my mom’s protection still worked! So it’s your fault.”
Death hummed. “Then you could have drawn the rune circle on your own, yes?”
Harry replayed what was said in his head and slowly the implications of it were sinking in. “You knew”, he said. Teeth blinked under Death’s cowl. “You knew I needed someone proficient in runes and who could fend off Voldemort when the protection broke. You knew when you told Merlin to help me, you even knew how I would become obsessed with my parents!”, he stopped and gathered his thoughts, until one particular one was remaining: “Who are you?”
“I am Death.”
Harry had known what the answer was going to be, but it didn’t diminish the thought behind it. Death’s covered eyes bore into Harry’s and he swore he saw some kind of intent or meaning in it, but couldn’t discern what it was supposed to be.
“We all just love non-cryptic, helpful answers”, Harry’s father said cheerfully.
««»»
Harry was released from the Hospital Wing on the next day already, much to Madame Pompfrey’s chagrin. But there wasn’t anything physically wrong with him, so there was really nothing she could do. Although Harry made sure to leave a chocolate frog as a thank you for her efforts.
When he entered his dorm room, he was immediately swarmed by Malfoy and his crew: “Where were you?” “What happened?” “We heard you were in the Hospital Wing, but they wouldn’t let us in!” Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected anything except maybe Fred and George to try and visit him, most of all not his fellow Slytherins. But that little bit of camaraderie gave him an idea – perhaps a dangerous one, but one worth considering. And in the heat of the moment, he decided to risk it: “Can you keep a secret?”
Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Zabini shared a glance. “That depends”, Nott said. “What’s in it for us?” Harry wanted to protest in indignation, at the audacity of the question, but then remembered who he was talking to and made an effort to calm down. True, Ron and Hermione never would have asked for anything in return, these were Slytherins. And as far as he had learned during the course of this year, Slytherins always expected something in return. So decided on the one thing no Slytherin could ever refuse: “I’ll be in your debt.”
Zabini’s eyes shot up in surprise and Malfoy frowned, as if to figure out what kind of secret could move Harry to offer this kind of power. Nott’s face on the other hand, was emotionless, like a well-trained soldier which worried Harry perhaps more than the people he knew would one day try to murder him and his friends, if influenced by certain decisions. After a few seconds of consideration, Nott nodded and that apparently was the sign for the others to agree as well.
“Very well. Perhaps you want to sit down for this”, Harry said and – curious as they were – the boys did as they were told. “I’m entrusting you with this and I know, that a deal like this is sacred in Slytherin, but I need your word nonetheless, that you won’t talk about this to anyone – especially not your parents.” “I won’t”, Nott said stoically and the others echoed after him, although visibly more hesitant.
“Now, I assume you know next to nothing about the night my parents were murdered”, Harry said and he could feel the atmosphere in the room tense. “To avoid confusion, I’ll tell you everything I remember about that night and I’d like not to be interrupted.”
Harry felt his father materialize next him, sitting on the bed. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing here”, he said sceptically. “But be cautious with their lot.” Harry ignored him and began the story, recounting every detail he knew to make it as believable as possible; How Voldemort had watched them form outside, how his father had entertained him with puffs of smoke from his wand and how he hadn’t even had his wand, when he had realized what was going on, facing Voldemort with nothing to defend himself. Harry noticed his father going stiff by his side and his voice was cracking from time to time, but it’s not like he was holding him here. If James wished to leave, Harry wasn’t holding him here. And so he went on, with the events following his father’s death; with how Voldemort entered his Harry’s room, intent on sparing his mother if she stepped aside, but how she refused. The memory of the killing spell and how it had forced Voldemort out of his body in incredible pain. “That’s all I remember”, he closed and paused for a moment to let it sink in for his audience.
“How do you remember all of that?”, Malfoy asked tactfully as ever. “I’m coming to that”, Harry said. “I think I remembered two days ago, when I fought Voldemort in the old armoury.” “You what?”, Zabini asked stunned and Harry smiled weakly. “You wanted to know why I was in the Hospital Wing. I went down the third floor corridor to stop Voldemort from obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone. Don’t ask me why Dumbledore hid it in a school full of students, but I can only guess he counted on the fact Voldemort would be too afraid of him to attack the school. Anyway, when I was down there, I stood before Voldemort and he attacked me. Magically, at first. And when he couldn’t hit me, he went for my throat. I can’t exactly explain what happened there, but when he touched me, memories flashed before my eyes – of the night my parents died. I don’t think he showed them to me on purpose, but – well.”
“You mean to tell us, that the Dark Lord was in the school two days ago?”, Malfoy asked aghast. “Technically he was here the entire year. He possessed Quirrell and had his face poking out from the back of his head. It’s why he wore the turban the entire time, I guess.”
“He was possessing one of our teachers?”, Nott asked with a tone of mild concern, which was comparable to a full freak-out by anyone else.
“Yes, I just said that. Anyway, as I was saying I remembered all of what I just told you when he touched me and if I had to guess, it has something to do with my scar, because it bloody hurt the entire time. Any thoughts on how that could be?”
“Dark curse”, Crabbe said, but Goyle shook his head. “No reason. Why would the Dark Lord want him to see his memories?” “Psychological torture”, Crabbe answered simply. Harry was torn between being amazed, that he knew such a big word or worried, that he knew that word.
“Are you sure about this, Harry?”, his father asked nervously. “I know what you’re doing, but you’re giving away very useful information to the kids of known Death Eaters…”
“I know what I’m doing”, Harry murmured, which didn’t seem to reassure James very much. The boys were still discussing meanwhile: “Legilimentic?” “Same reason, he wouldn’t want Potter to look into his mind. And he is too powerful and skilled of a wizard for it to backfire.” “Just like the killing curse then, yes?” “We don’t talk about that, none of us understand what happened there.” “You said you not only saw his memories, but knew his thoughts as well”, Goyle said slowly and Harry nodded. “That leaves only one option:” “Soul Magic”, Crabbe finished to Harry’s amazement. “No way”, Malfoy protested immediately. “What, Draco? You think Soul Magic is too dark for the Dark Lord to use?”, Zabini mocked and Malfoy turned pink. “No, it’s just- I don’t know, it’s dangerous and – it’s Soul Magic!” “I know what you mean”, Nott said thoughtfully. “But what’s more interesting here really, is how all this connects to his scar”, he looked directly at Harry, who grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know much about that. But thank you for your help anyway. I knew if anyone could help with this types of magics, it’d be you guys.”
Nott hummed. “I’m guessing then, you are planning on opposing the Dark Lord, not joining him once he returns back to power.”
“I just told you how he murdered my parents”, Harry said, his gaze flickering over to James, who was still listening intently to the conversation. “Would you join anyone who murdered yours?”
“Can’t say anything against that”, Zabini said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Easy for you to say, your family is famously neutral”, Nott spat and immediately closed his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “Theo!”, Malfoy chastised him and Harry realized they actually hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Guys… I know your parents are Death Eaters”, Harry said slowly. “Or your fathers, mostly. Do you think I didn’t do any research when I arrived here? You were all talking about old wizarding families and such, so I wanted to know who I was sharing a dorm with.”
“And it doesn’t bother you? Even though you’re standing against the Dark Lord?”, Malfoy said sceptically. Harry shrugged his shoulders. “How can I fault you for your parents actions? You aren’t them. And what you just said about Soul Magic makes me think, that can differentiate much better between what is acceptable and what not than them.”
All of them looked pretty surprised. “Thank you, Potter.” Harry grinned and held out his hand. “We’ll be living together for a few years. You should call me Harry.” Malfoy was the first one to accept it. “Draco.” The others followed suit. Harry felt lighter than he had in months.
««»»
When the exam results were given out for anyone but the fifth and seventh years, Harry felt a weird mixture of pride, shame and glee. He has always been good in Defence Against the Dark Arts, so the ‘O’ wasn’t that surprising, but to be matching Hermione’s grade in any subject but History of Magic, Astronomy and Potions felt very empowering. He didn’t care about History or Astronomy, but as he was looking at the ‘E’ in Snape’s spiderly scripture he made a decision, that he would turn that in an ‘O’ next year. He wasn’t sure where that kind of motivation was suddenly coming from, because this already was the best potions exam he had achieved with Snape as the examiner, but he was determined to make it an even better one next year.
To his surprise, there was a small ‘party’ in the Slytherin common room on that same evening, which was basically a get-together with late-night talks and all the sweets that were still left for everyone to share. Harry liked it very much and even had a few nice chats with some fellow Slytherins, while eating the (considerably smaller than last time) pile of candy he had gotten during his stay at the Hospital Wing. He suspected Fred and George had donated most of it, but since they hadn’t finished their canary creams or nosebleed nougats yet, he felt save to eat and distribute them. It wasn’t a party like the one in Gryffindor Tower, but it was pleasant in a different way: There wasn’t any loud music or alcohol (well, as a first year he wouldn’t have gotten any in Gryffindor either), but it was simply an evening to socialize. It was a nice thought for the penultimate day of the term, to properly say goodbye to your friends and meet new groups as well.
“So, Potter, what do you think of Slytherin?” Harry was surprised to see Terence Higgs join him on the sofa. They had shared a word or two after that first day in the Great Hall, but nothing more. “I’m coming to like it”, Harry said – honestly – to his own surprise. “I admit, I was worried at first. I thought no one wanted me here, but I’ve made peace with my dorm mates at least and I’ve got friends in Gryffindor as well.” “I’m glad”, Higgs said. “Not about the Gryffindors, I think they slowly melt your braincells just by existing near you”, Harry snorted, “But that you’re finding your place here. I guess it wasn’t easy for you.” Harry hummed. It hadn’t been easy, so much was true, but how much of that was the Slytherins and how much was himself and the baggage he was carrying, he couldn’t be sure. “So want to make it easier”, Higgs said to his surprise. “You know I won’t be here next year – as long as I get at least one NEWT”, he chuckled to himself, “And then the Slytherin Quidditch team will need a new Seeker.” Harry could hear him, but he wasn’t sure he was understanding him right. “You probably didn’t notice, but the team makes an effort to watch a few flying lessons to find new promising players. And you’re very promising. You spent far too much time helping your little Gryffindors, but you looked like you belong on a broom. And you’re tiny and scrawny, so you’d be the perfect seeker. I’ve already put in a good word with Marcus, so if you decide to try out next year, you’ll have a fair chance to get the position. And once you’re on the Quidditch team, you’ll have a better standing in Slytherin house.”
“Thank you”, Harry said, slightly floored. He probably should feel offended, that Higgs thought he’d need his help to get on the team and perhaps he once would have been, but he was just grateful. He knew, that he could get on the team skill-wise, but Higgs wasn’t wrong that his reputation in the school and Slytherin house especially wouldn’t help to get on the team if he chose so. So Higgs’ recommendation would probably help evening the playing field so to say.
Higgs grinned. “Don’t mention it. Well, in fact do mention it in case you’re playing professionally one day, that you owe it all to me.” Harry laughed and nodded. “I will. Thanks again.” Higgs patted him on the shoulder and then left to chat with his friends.
««»»
When he entered the Great Hall for the breakfast feats the next day, all eyes were on him once more. It could be, because he walked in with Draco, Vincent and Gregory in tow. It could also be because the whole school of course knew – at least partially – what had transpired down that trapdoor and that he had something to do with Professor Quirrell’s condition. His transportation to St. Mungo couldn’t have been kept secret if everyone had tried, but with the Hogwarts rumour mill it was sheer impossible.
Considering that, it probably was more of the fact that Harry had apparently sent a teacher into intensive care rather than being civil with his dorm mates. Although the latter probably didn’t help with how the former was perceived and so he did his best to ignore all the annoying glances. As always.
The weirdest feeling probably was to be celebrating Slytherin’s victory in the House Cup. Dumbledore hadn’t given him fifty points this time, but they had earned enough points through Quidditch (now that Harry hadn’t prevented the victory in their first match), that it was enough nonetheless.
No matter the successes and achievements this year though, there was one thing Harry hadn’t planned for: Once he left the train, he’d be stuck with the Dursleys again.
It filled him with more dread than he’d like to admit, especially now that he knew the freedom of being of age and doing magic whenever he wanted. It didn’t want to go back to the way it was with them. And he wouldn’t. So he made a plan with the twins how they could solve the issue without raising too much suspicion.
««»»
It was a huge chaos as always, when the train arrived back in King’s Cross. Children were running across the platform and parents were shouting. In midst of it all, Harry was standing there with his luggage and Hedwig in her cage, who was observing everyone.
“There he is, Mom. I can see –“ “Be quiet, Ginny, and it’s rude to point”, Mrs. Weasley smiled down at them. It was a heartwarming scene, when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley embraced their children after months of separation and even though it had been a year Harry’s throat felt oddly thick as he swallowed. “Harry!”, Mrs. Weasley embraced him as well as if she had known him his entire life. “Ron and the twins told me so much about you!”
Harry swallowed away his tears and put on a smile. “Hi, Misses Weasley. Thank you for the sweater again.” “Oh, it was no trouble, dear. I hope they’ve treated you well in Slytherin. I must admit, I was a bit worried for you when my sons told me you were sorted in there.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy at the beginning, because my dorm mates were a bunch of gits, but we’ve made peace. I guess the second year will be better”, Harry said, mildly optimistic. Mrs. Weasley didn’t look too convinced, but smiled nonetheless. “That sounds great, dear. Just know, that you can always ask any of us for help if you need it.”
“Thank you. Actually, the twins said I could come over during the holidays. I hope that’s okay –“ “Of course, dear. You have an owl, yes? Just send a letter ahead, you’re welcome any time.”
Harry felt warm all over. The Weasleys were lovely in any time. It took him a few more minutes to tear himself away, but he knew if he let the Dursleys wait longer, they’d be in an even fouler mood. Not that the thought did much good, because when he arrived on the regular platform (with the Weasleys not far behind him), the Dursleys were standing.
“Ready, are you?”, Vernon asked, looking as furious at Harry as he did most of the time. Or as he had done before they had found a mutual understanding to leave each other alone. They weren’t yet at this point here, so Harry didn’t feel even slightly bad when he gave him the news: “Hello, Uncle Vernon. These are my friends from school. They’re expecting word by owl, for when I can come over for the holidays.”
Vernon turned a deeper shade of purple in a matter of seconds. His gaze wandered towards the Weasleys, who were watching the scene, and then back to Harry, who couldn’t help but smirk. Harry thought he could hear the sound of Vernon’s teeth grinding together. “We’ll talk about this at home. Get in the car.”
Harry barely refrained from rolling his eyes and shared a glance with Hedwig, who didn’t have much qualms about hiding that. Then he nodded at the twins, who smirked and gave him a thumbs up. “Yes, Uncle Vernon.”