An Unusual Explanation
Fawkes sang quietly as they followed him slowly through the halls towards the Transfiguration office.
The curfew must have still been in effect, as they saw no one as they walked the school, not even ghosts.
Then again, Harry didn’t really even know what time it was. Maybe it was three in the morning, and everyone was asleep.
Every step closer to the office made Harry realize just how exhausted he was, the pain from his shoulder from where he was thrown during the explosion, the ache in his legs from running and climbing during his fight with the basilisk, the heat and radiating throb of the still healing bite.
The only things holding him up, that kept him walking, were the soft exhales of Neville, sounding like he was on the edge of a panic attack, and Ron between them, sure and gentle in keeping them both afloat.
They took a moment at the top of the stairs to catch their breath, the office visible at the end of the hall.
The door was open, but Neville paused a few feet away, body shaking.
Harry nudged him forward. “Hard part’s over, mate.”
Neville grimaced. “You haven’t actually met my gran. Anything having to do with her is the hard part.”
Harry bit back a laugh and pushed him forward again.
He had barely made it through the door when he was pulled into his grandmother’s arms.
The other two boys slipped in the room along the wall, Harry nodding politely to McGonagall while Ron watched Neville’s reaction to the sudden embrace.
Neville was bright red, nearly frozen.
“Of course you two are involved. I can only assume Ms. Granger would be here with you had she not been incapacitated.” McGonagall moved to meet them. “Are you all well? The fact that all three of you are standing is a good sign.”
Harry nodded. “I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will have Neville and me in for at least the night, but for now, we’re fine. Ron missed the fun.” He turned to see his friend’s eyes shifting guiltily. “Ron?”
The redhead looked to the professor, giving her an innocent smile. “The students that took part are fine. For sure.”
“Shit.” Harry slapped his forehead when he realized Ron’s implication.
“Mr. Potter, language!”
Harry winced as he rubbed at his forehead, looking like a miniature Snape for a moment. (No one was willing to tell him that.) “Professor Lockhart was a reluctant companion. He was knocked out and is most likely still drooling on the floor of the girls bathroom on the second floor.”
McGonagall glared at them both for a moment before it turned into a disapproving sigh. “Dare I ask how he was knocked out?”
Ron’s expression shuttered, but Harry stepped on his foot before his anger could be released.
“We knew that he had been tasked with finding the Chamber, and we thought he’d appreciate knowing where it was. We joined him at the entrance, and he took issue with continuing and tried to attack me. Unfortunately my shield charm wasn’t quite up to par, and things went a bit… crazy.”
She huffed. “A shield charm? As a second year?” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m surprised you could even cast it at all. I suppose I should go collect Gilderoy. The headmaster will be here momentarily, he has just returned to campus. Remain here, if you would. I’m sure he is eager to hear about your… exploits.”
McGonagall left just as Lady Longbottom allowed Neville to step back, allowing Harry his first glance at the matriarch.
She may not have been tall, but the way she carried herself made her presence heavy in the room. The fur around her shoulders, the vulture on her hat; these things may have been amusing on anyone else, but Harry could feel the regality of a pureblood in the way she ran her eyes over him and Ron, the slightest distaste as she found them lacking.
Minutes ticked by, Ron shifting awkwardly beside Harry as they watched the Lady’s grip tighten on her cane.
Harry threw a glance at Ron, who saw the question in his eyes and started shaking his head.
He ignored that, and stepped forward.
“Madam Longbottom, well met. I’m sure you can assume, but I’m Hadrian, Heir Potter and Black. I wish we had met under better circumstances, but I wanted to reiterate the gratitude I expressed via a letter last year for the assistance in creating the album of my parents. You have no idea how much it meant to me.”
She sniffed haughtily, pulling Neville back into her side. “I would only hope that had Neville not had me, someone would do something similar for him so he could see his parents well and happy in any way possible.”
He nodded and bowed slightly. “Still, I appreciate the effort it took.”
She waved him off just as they heard footsteps from down the hall, and Dumbledore swanned into the room, in the middle of unwrapping a lemon drop. He stopped in the doorway, slight grin on his face as he took in the room.
“Well, this must be quite the story.”
Harry’s fist clenched at his side, and Ron instantly placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
“Shall we all sit?” The headmaster waved his hand, and four chairs appeared.
No one moved.
Lady Longbottom straightened up, glaring at Dumbledore as he rounded the desk, taking McGonagall’s chair. “Does this really need to happen right now, Albus? Neville has obviously been through plenty tonight, surely this can wait until the morning.”
Albus peered over his half-moon glasses, meeting her gaze. “Unfortunately, no, Augusta. We need to be sure the threat has been neutralized before any other steps are taken.” He turned his gaze to Harry, who blinked slowly, tiredly, to try and subtly lower his eyes without being too obvious that he didn’t want to meet the headmaster’s eyes.
“Which of you boys wants to start?”
Neville looked back at Harry. Harry gave him a soft smile and nodded.
The boy gulped and took a half step forward.
“It all started when… a friend gave me an empty journal on the train…”
Harry split his attention between Albus and Augusta for Neville’s speech.
Augusta, understandably, was horrified with each new sentence that fell out of Neville’s mouth. Even as she stood in a dignified pureblood grace, Harry could see her expression falter, and her eyes begin to water as she listened to the heartbreak and pain in her grandson’s voice.
Dumbledore, however, had the slightest of smiles, eyes twinkling as the story unfolded.
“A talking diary, Neville, really?” Lady Longbottom sighed. “How much of a fool could you be? Did you think it was meant to write back?”
“I… I didn’t know, Gran, and he was so nice, and-.”
Harry stepped forward, subtly bumping his shoulder against Neville’s as they stood opposite the Longbottom matriarch. “He did feel very alone, this year. I blame myself for not seeing my godbrother’s pain.” He shot a look to Ron in the corner, who shrugged with a bewildered expression.
Harry took a breath. “Especially with how heartbroken Neville looked from the howler at the beginning of the year, and still not being able to work with a wand that isn’t his. I must apologize, Lady Longbottom, for not taking my duty as his godbrother and friend more seriously.”
Neville looked gobsmacked at the barrage of information Harry just confessed to his grandmother.
Augusta, however, just watched the two boys with pursed lips.
After a moment, she spoke, eyes toward Neville.
Harry stepped back to the wall, leaning against Ron as his exhaustion grew.
“Howler?”
Neville swallowed harshly. “From Uncle Algie.”
“That idiotic man. I’ll take care of him.” She watched him, eyes flickering down to the sleeve where his wand holster laid. “Neville, is this true? Is your wand not working because it was your father’s?”
He turned to send pleading eyes towards Harry, who just nodded once towards his grandmother with a half smile. Neville looked back at her with a wince. “Yes, Gran. It… It feels like trying to push an apple through a hole the size of a knut.”
Silence fell again, not even Dumbledore risking opening a lemon drop to break it.
The woman sighed, similar to what Harry was used to hearing from Snape. “You could have told me that, foolish boy. You’ll have to wait until sometime this summer, when I have time to take you to the Alley, but I expect your grades to vastly improve next year. I’ll talk with Minerva to see if she suggests some tutoring this summer to ensure you’re prepared for your third year.”
Neville was on the verge of tears, staring at the marble of the floor as he avoided any and all eye contact.
Ron and Harry immediately dropped their eyes, giving any amount of privacy they could.
Neville cleared his throat. “I tried to get rid of it. I did try, Gran. I flushed it in the bathroom that I kept waking up in, and ran off before Myrtle could start yelling at me.”
Harry spoke up again. “A friend of ours enjoys chatting with Myrtle. We were visiting her when she told us about the diary, how she could feel how Dark it was. We took it back to Slytherin, and we were planning on taking it to Professor Snape the next day. None of us wrote in it, but before we could visit the professor, our lounge was torn apart, and the diary went missing.”
“You didn’t think to tell Severus of the item later on?” Dumbledore frowned.
“The next day, Hermione was found, making it two of my close friends on death’s door, and my priorities shifted a bit, sir.”
Neville was looking down at the floor, face pale. “It was me, I used Luna as a distraction to duck into their dorm and find Tom again.”
Dumbledore leaned forward, eyes serious for the first time. “Tom?”
Harry stepped forward, pulled the now-inert diary from his bag, and threw it onto the desk, relishing in the harsh echo that followed. “Riddle. I’m sure you’re familiar.”
Dumbledore looked towards Harry, who stared right back, thinking only of the fear he felt in the chamber, the anger he felt seeing his godbrother on the cold, damp tile where no one would be able to find him.
The old man’s eyes looked over his glasses again. “Harry, m’boy, I hope you’re not insinuating I knew anything about this.”
His words felt like a physical shift in the room.
Augusta grabbed Neville, moving them both to the side.
Harry inhaled through his nose as he sneered at the headmaster. “Don’t call me boy.”
Ron stepped closer to Harry, not entirely sure whether to keep him from going too far or out of a sense of pure loyalty.
Harry took another deep breath, jaw set, just as Snape slid through the door, taking a position at his other side.
“You must have known something when Myrtle died. She mentioned how wary you were of Tom, all those years ago. Did you ever tell Hagrid? Who was really behind his expulsion?" He knew his voice was getting louder, but he didn't care. "And when the same things started happening, you had to have suspected. How can you claim yourself the headmaster, the keeper of this school, with something like that in the halls? Could you not sense the castle in peril?”
Silence fell throughout the room as Harry stood, chest heaving.
Standing that close to him, Ron couldn’t breathe.
Ron couldn’t help but think, awestruck, that in that moment, he had never seen Harry more inspiring.
His small stature meant nothing as he commanded the attention of everyone in the room, his magic staticked in the air, and Ron watched with pride his friend as he ranted at one of the most powerful men in their world.
Without visible fear, this twelve year old was staring down the Supreme Mugwump, Order of Merlin recipient, all because he may have been complicit in allowing one of Harry’s people to get hurt.
In that moment, Ron reaffirmed to himself that he would never leave Harry’s side.
This is what a leader should be.
“Harry, I would suggest you think before you continue throwing these baseless accusations. What could I have done?”
“Where were the Aurors, Headmaster? Where were the parents of the kids who are laying up in the hospital wing?”
“Now, Harry, I did not want to cause undue panic-”
“Would that excuse have worked if it was a high status pureblood laying in one of those beds? If Penelope’s father was higher in the ministry?”
“I don’t think I approve of what you’re accusing me-”
“I’m not one of your blind Gryffindors, professor, your approval isn’t a fundamental need of mine. I know Susan wrote her aunt, that Marcus wrote his father. Where are those letters?”
“Mr. Potter, we have had this discussion. In order to keep from causing an upheaval, of rumors of scandal—”
Harry gave a hollow laugh. “Scandal.” He leaned back slightly, a slight smirk. “Next year, sir, if I write a letter to my lawyer, and he doesn’t respond, I will find another way to contact him, and I can assure you, that way will include filing a lawsuit. It may not get very far, Chief Warlock, but you’re going to need public approval in the next few years, and if there’s one thing I can do, it’s ruin that. You don’t want a public scandal? Keep me isolated from my people, and you’ll get just that.”
The room was silent, though Ron could swear he heard the crackling of magic as Harry stood his ground. It was broken, however, by the sound of footsteps, and someone giving a perfunctory cough from the doorway. They all looked to see Lucius Malfoy taking in the room with a slight sneer.
Snape took the interruption to gently pull Harry back towards the wall, hissing as he did. “Calm yourself. Your point has been made, but this is a fight that cannot be won here.”
Harry just gave him a nod as he watched Malfoy, barely containing his fury, address the room.
“It seems events have occurred that the Board of Governors were not made aware of,” he said, staring down at Dumbledore with the usual level of Malfoy haughtiness.
Harry, however, immediately noticed the small form of Dobby hiding behind the man’s robes.
The last of his anger drained as he made eye contact with the elf.
As Lord Malfoy and Dumbledore verbally sparred, Harry felt a train run through his brain as connections were made.
Aurors searching the homes of anyone known to end up too gray to be considered Light, especially anyone who even seemed Dark.
An influx of suspicious material being sold in Knockturn.
Lucius starting a fight with Arthur in the Alley.
Ginny having a random diary she didn't remember her mother buying her that she handed off to Neville.
The diary carrying the essence of the Dark Lord, enough to possess.
Lucius being on the outs with many Death Eater families for getting away with the Imperioed defense.
Dobby’s minute gestures between Lucius and the diary, currently being held up by the smug headmaster, weren’t even needed, though Harry nodded once to get him to stop before the game of charades was noticed.
Harry didn’t tune back into the conversation until his name was mentioned.
“Yes, it was lucky for us that Harry here was so eager to protect his godbrother, and that he and his friends were so adept at researching that they were able to determine the cause behind all of this before poor Neville was blamed for it all.”
Harry straightened against the wall when Malfoy turned to stare at him.
He nodded respectfully, eyes flickering back to where Lady Longbottom was watching the exchange with a shrewd look, Neville against her side.
The man just paled slightly. “Lucky, indeed.”
Harry couldn’t help but speak up, still incensed by his confrontation with Dumbledore, even as Snape sighed beside him. “I’m sure you’re grateful that this is all over with, Uncle Lucius. I know Aunt Narcissa was worried that Draco and I were in danger this year, just because something of the Dark Lord’s made its way to the hands of the heir of a prominent house. Merlin’s grace must have seen us through, that no innocents were significantly harmed.”
Lucius clenched his jaw, right hand twitching around his cane. “Of course, Hadrian. I’ll be sure to inform her of everyone’s continued safety upon my return home. Dobby, come. It seems I’m no longer needed here.”
The door slammed behind the two, and the room grew silent until the headmaster shifted from behind McGonagall’s desk.
“Mr. Weasley, I wonder if I could ask a favor of you?”
Ron bit back a groan and stepped forward. “Of course, Headmaster, what can I do for you?”
Dumbledore gave a genial smile as he pulled a scroll from his robe, scribbling a few things down with a quill before handing it to Ron. “Send that off to the Ministry, if you would? It seems we require our gamekeeper returned to us. He has no reason to remain in Azkaban any more than you or I.”
Harry had to bite back a question about Sirius Black’s reason to remain there.
Ron eyed the professor with a dull expression, ignoring the urge to question Dumbledore’s freedom. Instead, he glanced back toward Harry, who was still leaning against the wall with Snape at his side, with a questioning look.
Harry gave a shallow nod. “Use Hedwig, she needs a bit of flying before our week with the Dursleys.”
Ron shot a tired look back at Dumbledore before he rolled his eyes and left the room.
After his footsteps fell out of hearing range, Dumbledore looked towards Snape before he smiled amicably at the Longbottoms over his steepled fingers.
Snape leaned down, dropping his voice once more so only Harry could hear. “Come along, Potter. I won’t have you bleed out in my charge. And I can only assume the conversation that needs to occur between those remaining need not be heard by us.”
Harry nodded, stood, and bowed slightly to Dumbledore and Lady Longbottom before turning to follow Snape across the school towards the hospital wing. A flash of blonde at the end of the hall made him perk up.
“One second, Professor.”
“What did we just discuss, Mr. Potter? Do not start fights you cannot win.”
“And you were right. I couldn’t do anything about Dumbledore right then. But I can win this. It may be a bit of a pyrrhic victory, me sharing a bit too much of my hand, but it’ll do the job.”
“Potter-”
“It will only take a second, and then Poppy can lock me up for as long as needed.”
Harry moved around the corner, ignoring Snape’s call of “You must refrain from referring to staff by their given names!”
“Lord Malfoy, may I have another moment?”
Lucius paused, checked their surroundings, then turned with a sneer. “Heir Potter. How else may I help you?”
Harry gave him a sweet smile. “I’d like to buy that wayward house elf off of you.”
Dobby peered around Malfoy’s pant leg as the man scoffed. “And why would I do that?”
He shrugged. “It’s clear he isn’t the best fit for your family. And with my foray into the world of politics, and my unfortunate lodgings for the summer, as I’m sure Aunt Narcissa has mentioned, a house elf would do wonders for me.” He paused, meeting the irate but assessing eyes of his supposed uncle. “Imagine the press. Lord Malfoy discovers beloved nephew stranded with his muggle family. Gives the Boy-Who-Lived his personal house elf to assist him.”
Malfoy’s jaw worked as they stared at each other.
“It’s either sell him to me now or give me the summer to find some obscure way to free him that leaves you embarrassed and politically vulnerable. And that’s not even including the fact that I know you tried to pawn that diary off on Ginny Weasley.”
“You have no evidence of that, you insolent-”
“Maybe not, but as of right now, I’m in quite good standing with the wixen world. How many people do you think would turn on you just because I suggested it?”
Lucius pursed his lips, but a slight smile was on his face as he nodded. “Well played. Although you have a lot of ground to gain if you wish to play at this level consistently, Hadrian.”
He sighed, looking down at the hopeful eyes of Dobby staring back up at him. “Fine. Five thousand galleons. Rather cheap, but for a… what was it… beloved nephew, I’ll allow such a menial fee. And honestly, you’re doing me a favor getting rid of the thing. I’ll have my solicitor reach out to you, you may return the paperwork with the bank slip.”
Harry sucked his teeth. “I’ll require a written statement now if you’d prefer to do this through solicitors. And send any and all missives to Gerard Flint, if you would. He represents me.” Harry gave another wide smile at the slight shock that bled through Malfoy’s mask.
He kept it as Lucius waved his wand, and a piece of parchment appeared. A moment later, Harry was handed a minor contract promising the completion of a house elf ownership transfer. “Cheers. I look forward to seeing you again. Dobby, when the paperwork is complete, we’ll talk about your salary.”
Dobby’s eyes grew wide as he grinned and nodded. “Dobby would be honored, Harry Potter.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You may have won this round, Potter, but you play a dangerous game. Do not think battles will be so easily won in the political world. The Malfoy name has been gaining much power while the Potter name has fallen to the side. Not even your title of Boy-Who-Lived can even the score.”
Harry leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Don’t forget, Uncle Lucius. Potter is not the only title I claim. You may be a Malfoy, but no matter what vows they’ve taken, what name they use, Narcissa and Draco are still of Black blood, of my blood. Toujours Pur. Do you truly want to see whose call they would answer when faced with the choice? Which side all your little friends will fall on when Black House rises once more? I have my own claims to your family, to your politics, ones that might see you all through this upcoming conflict. If given the right reasons.”
The two Slytherins stared at each other a moment longer. It was Lucius who turned away first. “Dobby, home. You are still mine for the foreseeable future. The Abraxan stables need tending to.”
Dobby apparated away, and Lucius strolled out of sight.
Harry stared after him. “Abraxan? Bougie motherfu-”
Snape appeared from around the corner just as Malfoy’s footsteps faded away, clearly having listened to the conversation. “Come, Mr. Potter. You look two shakes away from being blown away in the wind. Poppy is waiting for you.”
Harry followed in silence, each step falling heavier as his adrenaline began to fade.
Murmurs on the other side of the infirmary doors gave Harry pause. “All this chaos because of some diary,” he whispered, sighing as he ran a hand over his face.
Snape stepped forward, leaving the relative comfort of the shadows to place a hand on the door. “Let this be a lesson for you, Mr. Potter. Even the most unassuming of things can be the one object that tears down a society.”
Harry gave him a pained grin. “My plan is to be that unassuming thing, Professor.” He turned back to the doors. “Or be the one in the hospital wing. I don’t like seeing my friends hurt or manipulated.”
“I rather doubt they enjoy seeing you in a similar state.”
“You may be right.” Harry took a deep breath. “I hate to say this to you, sir, but I think this may just turn into a tradition of ours. Ending the year under Madam Pomfrey’s reign.”
Snape sighed, very much a why-am-I-a-teacher sigh. “I would rather that than a more… permanent change of venue.”
“Dying is nowhere on the to-do list Hermione has written out for us.”
“That child is going to either burn our society to the ground or revolutionize the world.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“And she’ll laugh through it all either way.” Harry laughed as Snape pushed him through the door.
“Poppy, you have one more wayward student to attend to. Full diagnostics, I have a feeling he wasn’t quite truthful about the new scar on his arm.”
Harry gaped at the man. “Professor Snape, I never thought you to be a tattletale!”
Snape rolled his eyes. “I’ll attend to you all in a few hours. The amount of paperwork I have to fill out, letters to write…” He sighed. “I cannot wait to retire,” he muttered as he walked out the door.
“Are you even forty yet?” Harry called after him, laughing hollowly at the waved hand of irritation thrown over the professor’s shoulder.
Madam Pomfrey was halfway down the room, gesturing towards a bed. “Your usual spot, Mr. Potter. I’ll be with you momentarily. Just checking the newly-awakened students.”
Harry staggered forward. “They’ve had the elixir?”
The matron gave a rare smile and moved out of his way, and suddenly Harry could see a grinning Hermione.
“Harry!”
The sight of her awake, her smiling, was enough to have any resolve Harry had left to melt away.
He didn’t stop running until he was flinging himself into Hermione’s arms, tackling her back into the bed.
“I was so scared,” he whispered into her shoulder, finally allowing himself to fall apart.
Her arms were around him like a comfortable weight, like the heaviness of Ron’s knitted Weasley blanket on a chilly day. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Everyone made it out. You did so well, Hadrian James. I’m so proud of you.”
He sobbed, burrowing his face in her shoulder.
Tears ran down both of their faces as they hugged each other tightly, Hermione whispering platitudes into his ear.
Pomfrey gave them a moment, but eventually spoke up from the side of the bed. “Come along, Mr. Potter. You’ll have plenty of time to catch Ms. Granger up in regards to your misdeeds while you’re both in here for the night. Your own bed, now.”
Harry wiped his face. “Of course, Madam.” He gave Hermione one last hug, and then got up.
He was immediately sidetracked once more seeing Justin scribbling in a book on the opposite side of the room.
Said book fell to the floor when Justin received his own tackle from Harry.
“Hadrian, I’m fine,” Justin laughed.
“We told you not to go off by yourself.” Harry pulled back and flicked Justin’s forehead.
The Hufflepuff gave a sheepish grin. “I was with Sir Nick, I thought it would be fine.”
“A house ghost is not a proper escort, Finch-Fletchley. Why Nick, anyways?”
“He started complaining about the Headless Hunt, and I couldn’t get away. Figured I might as well go to the Nook. Guess I didn’t make it.”
Harry shook his head as he moved towards his own bed. “We’ll talk about safety protocols later.”
As soon as he sat on the bed he had always used for his various visits, Pomfrey was at his side with her wand drawn.
Harry groaned as he was pushed gently to a reclined position. “Can I nap through this?”