Chapter 6
Eventually, Harry somehow found the blasted lobby. Seriously, he had no clue how he got there. The ministry was a fucking maze. Looking around, he decided to sit by the golden fountain that he had taken notice of early to wait for Mr. Weasley. While he would have loved to just abandon the man, Mr. Weasley had the money he needed for the underground and it would have been difficult to explain to everyone at Grimmauld place why he returned without Mr. Weasley. Harry just hoped Mr. Weasley wouldn’t be with Dumbledore when he reached the lobby.
Harry took a small moment to just breathe. His nerves had made him feel exhausted and his conversation with Dumbledore had left him feeling empty.
Sitting at the fountain, Harry didn’t think of much. He listened to the chatter around him, thought about what he might have for dinner, and debated whether he should try to convince Mr. Weasley to let him get some sweets from the old lady standing in the corner. Was it a bad idea to buy candy from a random lady standing in an office building corner? Maybe. But Harry could really use some sugar quills right now, or at least a chocolate frog.
About 20 minutes had passed when Mr. Weasley rushed into the lobby. At the sight of Mr. Weasley, Harry stood up and started to walk towards him. He didn’t call for the man since he didn’t want to bring any attention to himself, but quickly walked to him so that Mr. Weasley wouldn’t start asking random people if they had seen him. The man was a bit red in the face and looked to be struggling for air.
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley gasped, “I just finished talking to Dumbledore,” Mr. Weasley paused to take another breath, “Sorry, I’ve been running around trying to find you. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Mr. Weasley shallowly laughed, still trying to catch his breath.
Harry didn’t say anything as Mr. Weasley took a minute to steady his breathing.
“Anyways,” Mr. Weasley resumed, “I just finished talking to Dumbledore and he said he is very disappointed in your behavior, both during your trial and the conversation you two had after the whole thing. He said it is unbecoming for a man of your age to act so rashly to his elders and that you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Why was Mr. Weasley telling him this anyways? It’s nothing new that Dumbledore hadn’t said before.
“I told him that it’s normal for boys your age to start acting this way because you’re going through puberty, but I have to agree with Dumbeldore on this one. Puberty isn’t an excuse to behave the way you did, which both Dumbledore and I agreed on. I know you don’t want to talk about this anymore, but I am going to repeat what I said before, Dumbledore is only trying to help.”
“Sure,” Harry responded.
Mr. Weasley sighed and mumbled something that sounded like ‘teenagers’ while shaking his head.
“Are you ready to head to Grimmauld Place at least?” Mr. Weasley asked.
Harry nodded in response
“Alrighty then, let’s go,” Mr. Weasley said.
The trip back was uneventful. Mr. Weasley somehow came up with a million new questions about the muggle world, all of which Harry obligingly answered. He was a bit mad at Mr. Weasley for always taking Dumbledore’s side, but if Harry let that anger get to him, it would be one hell of an awkward trip back, so it was easier to just answer question after question then be mad right now.
When they finally made it back to Grimmauld Place, Harry had planned to just sequester himself away to the library, but apparently everyone else already had plans for him. Before he could escape, Mr. Weasely directed him to the kitchen where it appeared everyone had been waiting for him.
“Well, tell us what happened,” Mrs. Weasley demanded the moment Mr. Weasley dragged Harry in.
Several people nodded their heads in agreement, while Harry could see Ron and Hermione staring judgmentally at him, waiting for his response.
‘Uh…” Harry oh-so-eloquently said.
He was like a deer in headlights. He was not expecting immediate interrogation the moment he got back.
“Harry is cleared of all charges!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, saving Harry from the awkwardness.
A chorus of ‘Hooray!’s were released into the room, though some people didn’t look to be pleased by this information.
“And what’s even better,” Mr. Weasley continued, “is that Harry is allowed back into Hogwarts!”
More cheers were heard in the room, though Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione had frowns on their faces. People started walking up to him, congratulating him and patting him on the back. There were lots of pats on the back. Too many pats on the back.
To all of the congratulations, Harry just nodded his thanks in response and started to slowly inch his way out of the room. He really just wanted some quiet right now.
All of the sudden, right in front of him was a pair of identical redheads.
“Great job-”
“Harry. How’d ya-
“Do it?” the twins asked, both patting his shoulders in sync, Fred patting his left while George patted his right.
Sure, he wanted some quiet right now, but he always had time for Fred and George. They were some of the very, very few people he actually liked. He found he didn’t mind talking to them for a bit, despite really wanting to be alone.
“I verbally fought some people and then submitted my memories to be shown through the entire courtroom. That convinced enough people I was innocent then, bam, I’m free of all charges,” Harry briefly summarized for them.
“You can submit your memories?” George asked.
“Apparently, it works well,” Harry responded, “It even impressed Madam Bones because she offered to take me on as an apprentice after I finished Hogwarts.”
“Damn, you must have really impressed her. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her doing that for anyone,” Fred explained.
Harry was glad that they accepted his brief summary. He was pretty sure the twins could tell he was tired because normally, they would be pressing him for more info.
“Yeah, whatever you did must have been great. Kinda wish I was there to see it,” George added on.
Harry felt his face turn a bit red, and he felt embarrassed for that. Why couldn’t he react normally to a compliment? Screw the Dursleys for being arseholes.
He took note that the twins had stopped their twin speak. He was actually so grateful for that. He was starting to get a headache from all the human interaction he had faced today and this kitchen was loud. He felt himself getting overwhelmed and hoped he could exit the room soon.
“Thanks,” Harry said.
“Anyways, Harry,” Fred started, “just so you know. We’ve been using your investment well, and Forge and I are proud to say that we’ve got our first batch of products finished!”
“And we would be greatly honored of you would like to try some of them out, later tonight," George expanded.
“I’d be willing to give them a try,” Harry replied, “just don’t kill me, that’s the only rule I have.”
“Oh don’t worry-”
“Harrykins. We wouldn’t kill off our-”
“Lovely investor, you have been-”
“Officially added to our do not-”
“Prank or harm list,” George finished
“Wow, I feel so honored,” Harry dryly stated.
“As you-”
“Should be,” replied, ignoring Harry’s sarcasm.
The twins then left dramatically, disappearing away in a cloud of purple smoke. The smoke failed to actually hide them exiting through the kitchen doorway which made the whole thing funny instead of cool.
If Harry was being honest, he felt very honored to be on that list, since almost no one was there. He knew Angelina Johnson was, but that was only because she had nearly killed the twins last time they had pranked her. The twins didn’t really have any other option other than to put her on that list if they wanted to continue living.
Harry started to walk towards the kitchen exit to leave in a much less dramatic way than to the Weasley twins but was stopped by Sirius.
“Harry! Congratulations, Arthur was just telling me about your hearing turned trial. By the sound of it, you did pretty well for your first time in wizarding politics,” Sirius exclaimed with a wink and a large grin on his face.
“Oh it was marvelous, Sirius,” Mr. Weasley joined in the conversation, “He had the court hooked on his every word. Honestly, he could be a great lawyer one day,” Mr. Weasley boasted while patting Harry on the back.
Holy bludgeoning cauldron cakes, that was like the one millionth pat on the back Harry had received in the span of a few minutes. At first, it just felt uncomfortable, but now it was becoming just too much. He needed out of the room.
He had never received much touch like ever, even at Hogwarts he didn’t receive much, so all of these pats on the back were not welcomed. He wasn’t used to it and he sure didn’t like it.
“Nonsense, Arthur,” Mrs. Weasley, popping out of nowhere, declared, “Harry is going to be an Auror. That’s where he belongs.”
“Harry, you want to be an Auror? Just like your father, aye?” Sirius joined.
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful! He’ll be great, I just know it,” Mrs. Weasely answered for him.
“I don’t really know if I want to be an Auror,” Harry tried to correct, “I want to ke-”
He was cut off by Mrs. Weasley.
“Nonsense, you will realize you want to be an Auror soon enough. They’re highly respected and make good money,” she asserted.
“You know, well I’m sure you know this already, but your father was an Auror, Harry,” Sirius added, “He loved the thrill of it. If you became an Auror, you could be just like him. He would have been so proud.”
“No offense Sirius, but I don’t really care if I am like him or not. I want to follow my own path and pursue my own passions. That means keeping my options open and not declaring what I want to do right away. I still have a bit of time to think about it,” Harry tried to explain.
He didn’t really think he wanted to be an Auror if he was being honest. It just didn’t seem to call to him. He was tired of all this constant fighting against Voldemort and wanted something a bit less like a police force. He wasn’t against a violent occupation, taming dragons seemed actually interesting and something he might be into. He just didn’t think he wanted to fight enemies all the time for the rest of his life. He felt like he had done enough of that already.
Unfortunately for him, he knew Mrs. Weasley and literally anyone else involved with the Order would never accept that. So, for the time being, he would have to suffer through their complaints while doing his own thing. It was fine. He was just so done with this conversation. Between all the touching and the constant verbal assault he had been going through today, he needed to be alone for, like, ever.
“You will realize one day that you’re meant to be an Auror, nothing else would ever fulfill you as much as that,” Mrs. Weasley insisted.
“Sure,” Harry sarcastically said and then he just turned and left.
Fuck everyone. How would she know if it ‘fulfilled him’ or not? Was Mrs. Weasley actually him? Woah, plot twist of the century.
Harry noticed Ron and Hermione had been watching that entire conversation and, for some reason, were extremely angry. Like how does his future make them mad? Harry wished with every fiber of his being they didn’t try to talk to him today because he just couldn’t. Except, whatever higher deity existed hated him because the moment he wished that, the duo followed him right out the kitchen. It took everything he had to not scream and punch the wall.
Trying to avoid conflict like the great person he was, he sped up his walking. Maybe they didn’t actually want to talk to him.
Yeah, that thought was incorrect because the moment he sped up, Ron and Hermione both started shouting his name. In order to not have the adults coming out to question what was happening, Harry stopped in front of a stairwell that was lined with pictures in frames. He leaned against the railing with an annoyed expression on his face.
“Harry,” Ron started, "We need to talk to you.”
“I mean I hope so, or else you stopped me for nothing” Harry responded
“Why are you so awful!” Hermione angrily cried.
“Look, if you stopped me to insult me that isn’t talking so I’m gonna leave,” Harry said.
“I mean, why are you so awful to everyone!” Hermione continued, “You’ve been so rude to us and you have been extremely rude to Mrs. Weasley, who is bending over backwards, trying to get you to eat and trying to help you make good career decisions. I heard about what happened at the hearing or trial or whatever. How could you reject Dumbledore, multiple times! He is trying to help you and you just go make him look like a fool. Besides, whatever Mr. Weasley thinks what happened must be false because he said you were able to defend yourself, without Dumbledore, and that just can’t be true. Harry, you’re not the brightest. I mean, how could you even know law! They don’t teach it at Hogwarts!”
“Merlin," Harry ground, "All I hear is someone offended that I was able to be smarter than them for once. I get that I don't seem all that bright to you, but I'm not a flobberworm. You know why I have been rude to you guys, and it's not just the letters. Yeah, I do feel a bit bad about how I treat Mrs. Weasley sometimes, but she also doesn't have the right to dictate how I live my life. I rejected Dumbledore because he didn’t fit into my plan, yes, Pottyhead had a plan for once. Sorry about that, I’ll do better next time. And are you seriously so stupid to think that there isn’t stuff outside of what Hogwarts teaches to be learned?” Harry retorted.
Harry had stopped leaning on the railing at some point during this and had completely stood up straight. He was as tense as a scared cat. He could feel his anger bubbling up and he knew that he was about to do something he may regret. He was getting so riled up that he had even said ‘Pottyhead,’ a term he hadn’t even thought of since elementary school when Dudley would bully him.
“I don’t believe you had a plan,” Hermione scoffed.
“Then how did I do it then?” Harry asked.
“What?” Hermione seemed confused.
It was a simple question.
“How did I get off scot free?”
“I don’t know, Harry! Either Mr. Weasley is lying about what happened at the trial or you got help from someone else,” she, supposedly the brightest witch of their year, responded.
“Hermione, are you really calling Ron’s dad a liar? Right infront of Ron too. And how would I contact anyone?” Harry pointed out.
Hedwig still hadn’t even come to Grimmauld Place since Harry sent her off at Privet Drive and Hermione knew that.
“No, Mr. Weasley isn’t a liar,” Hermione corrected, glancing at Ron, who did look a bit offended by what she had said, “But I know you didn't do it yourself! You couldn't have,” she insisted.
Did everyone really think he was that dumb?
“This is going nowhere, I’m done,” Harry sighed and started to walk up the stairs.
It was starting to feel like he ran away from every problem he didn't want to deal with. Hopefully it wouldn't catch up to him in the future.
“Harry,” Ron protested, grabbing Harry’s shoulder in order to physically turn him around.
Yeah no. That was the last bit of physical touch Harry could handle today. Harry, who was two steps above Ron, glared down at Ron with pure fire in his eyes. The pictures on the walls began to shake and Harry’s skin became hot. Ron yanked his hand back with a yelp of surprise and stepped back to stand next to Hermione. Both Ron and Hermione looked a bit fearful as the shaking increased and several pictures fell off the walls, the glass in the framings shattering.
Then, Harry had this very weird feeling that he was out of his body, just watching all of this happening. Everything around him felt numb all the sudden. He wondered why he was so angry. Ron and Hermione didn’t matter to him. Why did they make him react like this?
As Harry felt more and more detached from his body, he was able to stop the shaking slowly. His body, which had previously felt very hot, seemed a bit cold now. After all of the shaking finally stopped, if someone looked at Harry right at that moment, they wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was just absolutely livid a second ago. His face was completely flat and he just turned around and made his way up the stairs again.
It was a bit amusing to see the fear in Ron and Hermione’s faces as he turned but he couldn’t find himself to feel much else. He just couldn’t feel. It was… great. He knew it shouldn’t, but it just felt like a break from all the emotions that he had been feeling lately. If a mass murder happened in front of him at this moment, Harry didn’t think he would bring himself to be able to care.
Distantly, Harry thought about how he had just performed magic outside of school, mere hours after he got out of a trial discussing his magic outside of school. It was quite ironic, wasn’t it?
Harry wasn’t afraid of a ministry owl coming to him though. He remembered one of the books in the library that he had read explaining how the trace worked. The trace is actually just a spell wand makers are legally required to place in their wands that only affects any wand owner under 17 years of age. Whenever a minor does magic, it sends off a ping into this globe at the ministry that locates where the magic has been performed. The pings are ignored when Hogwarts is in term but heavily regulated during the summer. There are ways to remove the trace, but they require the active use of magic so Harry has to wait for the Hogwarts year to start in order to actually remove the trace.
This law was actually only made about 150 years ago so wands that have been passed down for many generations don’t have the trace. Passing down wands is more common in other parts of the world such as France and Turkey, but does occasionally happen in Britain. The stigma that the wand chooses the wizard was actually created in Britain in order to convince people that they needed to buy new wands that would have the spell on them. The theory that used wands don’t work as well as new wands is bullshit. Ron’s was second hand and it worked for him just fine until he snapped it in second year.
Not really understanding how he got there, Harry entered Regulus’s room and just stood at the bed for a second, thinking about what he should do. He could just lie on the bed and completely zone out, not sleeping though because he was not up for nightmares right now. He could snoop some more. He could go to the library and either do his summer work or research something interesting.
Harry decided to go to the library and bring up his summer work with him. Was he actually going to do it? He didn’t know yet. He would decide when he got there.
Entering the library, Harry ended up doing his summer work, telling himself that if he finished it all now, then he was free to research whatever he wanted later without the stress of summer work hanging above his head. He was actually quite proud of himself for not procrastinating until the train ride to get his work done.
This time, he actually took time to understand his assignments and do them right. Some of the work was just a tedious review from last year, but some of it was actually interesting and informative, going into different aspects of spells and whatnot they hadn't during the school year. He felt himself actually learning for once and that there were some subjects he actually enjoyed.
The most surprising thing about actually doing his work was realizing that he might actually like potions if he just gave it a try. Sounds crazy, he knew, but actually looking at his potions textbook for the first time in his life made him realize that if he had ever actually bothered to follow instructions or even just pay attention in class, he might actually enjoy making a potion that could give someone wings for an hour or make vegetables taste like popcorn. Most of the time when he messed up in potions, it was when he wasn’t trying.
The rest of his summer break fell into a steady routine similar to the one he had before the trial. Attempting to avoid Mrs. Weasley in the morning, spending almost the entirety of his day in the library, though sometimes exploring Grimmauld Place when he needed a change of scenery, eating dinner alone late at night, going to sleep, and then repeating. That may have been an oversimplification of his schedule, but as long as he remembered breakfast, library, dinner, sleep, repeat, his life felt a bit more organized.
He did remember to visit the Weasley twins to see their new creations and work in the making, which he had to say was very impressive. The twins were truly brilliant. Like, how did they even come up with the ideas of Nosebleed Nougats or Puking Pastilles. He asked the twins if he could pre-order boxes of them for when they were ready to be sold, but the twins told him that anything he wanted he would get for free. Harry tried to refuse this, saying he definitely had the money to pay, but the twins refused. Eventually, he gave in to the twins' antics but secretly vowed that he would leave money for them where they wouldn’t realize it was from him. He visited the twins a few more times during the summer, but spent most of his time in the library.
When he finished his summer work for the first time ever, he decided to read whatever caught his eye in the library. What first caught his eye surprised him, and probably the entire world if they knew. It was potions. Yes. Potions. He thoight Snape would have an aneurysm if the professor ever found out. When Harry had finished the last of his summer work, he was about to go search the library for interesting titles when the library presented him a book on potions. The library hadn't failed him so far, so he decided to trust it. The book was about the properties of potions and what each ingredient of a potion did. This did, in fact, interest him. He had never realized that potions weren't just mixing random things hoping for a good outcome. He found that potions were a lot more like cooking than he thought. Each ingredient had its purpose and the quantity mattered.
An example the book gave him was if he was making bread, he needed to make sure he added the yeast and the right amount of yeast. If he forgot the yeast, the bread would not become bread. If he added too much, the gas that yeast released would release before the flour was ready to expand, creating a flat, tasteless bread. The bread could also rise too much and then explode in the oven. If he didn't add enough, the bread wouldn't rise. It was the same in potions. If he forgot the salamander eyes, either the potion would create something entirely different, or it wouldn’t be a potion at all. If he added too many salamander eyes though, the potion would explode due to the imbalance in magic or just be a mixture of whatever else was added into the potion.
He was also fascinated by the properties of each ingredient. The book didn’t go over every single ingredient to exist since there were probably millions, but it went over a good many, some he hadn’t even heard of before. For example, lavender was used as a balancer. If a potion needed lots of mongrel fur, a highly reactive ingredient, lavender was commonly used to balance it out. It was all quite fascinating to Harry and if Snape wasn’t the worst teacher on earth, he might have actually enjoyed potions.
When he was studying the properties of the ingredients, he got interested specifically in the properties of phoenix feathers since his wand had a phoenix feather. That led him to a book about wand cores and then to a book about wand making, something he found he had a genuine interest in. If he wasn’t so freaked out by Ollivander, he might have written the old man a letter asking him questions about the art of wand making.
Wand making led him to mental magic. There was a passage in one of the wand making books about how the wand uses magic similar to legilimency in order to figure out how to balance itself out with the wizard, and not knowing what legilimency was, Harry asked the library to bring him a book about the magic. Learning about mind magic made him paranoid for several days because he didn’t know if any of the people residing in Grimmauld place were legilimens and reading his mind.
Then, the library, his saving grace, showed him a book about occlumency. While the book told him it would take him years to become a proficient occlumens, he felt safer knowing there was a way he could protect his mind. Since then, he has devoted every single moment he was in bed working on occluding his mind. The nights he does it well, the nightmares aren’t as bad, so even if he never had to face a legilimens, he would at least be gaining some benefit from the practice.
Harry decided his sleep would forever be fucked up. He looked like a bloody panda with how bad his eye bags were and how pale he was growing to be. When he was at the Dursleys, he wasn’t paper white since he worked in the garden, but now that he wasn’t going outside at all, he could pass for a ghost. The sad thing was, he had a naturally tanner look to him. Always had, but with the lack of sleep and his awful eating habits, his body was struggling.
He was trying to eat more. In fact, he had started bringing more snacks up into the library and occasionally lunch. He just wasn’t improving his appetite fast enough, not that it was his fault he couldn’t eat too much, and since his body was under so much stress because of the lack of sleep, everything just wasn’t good. Despite how his body looked, he was actually proud of himself for being able to control his food well enough that he’s almost at three meals again before Hogwarts.
Harry had decided when he returned to Hogwarts, he would start working out, and not just the Quidditch workouts, but on his own. If he was expected to kill the most powerful wizard alive, he needed to be able to have enough stamina to last a full battle. It would be super embarrassing if he died because he couldn't run for 10 minutes.
Speaking of Hogwarts, his school book list came about 2 weeks before the term started. When he saw the letter, he was excited that he was getting the opportunity to leave Grimmauld place for a bit, until Mrs. Weasley grabbed the letter from his hands and announced she would be buying everything for everyone since it wasn’t safe for everyone to go to Diagon Alley. Harry thought that was a load of hippogriff shit, but there wasn’t much he could do. So instead, he accepted his fate and prayed he wouldn’t go insane.
Fortunately, before Mrs. Weasley grabbed the letter from him, he had been able to hide his Quidditch Captains badge. He was really excited for the honor, sad Oliver wouldn’t be there, and glad that he was able to hide the news from Ron, who would certainly be jealous and get mad at him. Ron and Hermione were selected as prefects, and most people seemed surprised that Harry himself wasn’t selected. He didn’t care that he wasn't chosen. That seemed like a whole lot of responsibility, but he was a tad bit annoyed that it was Ron who was chosen.
Hermione, he expected. The girls in his year in Gryffindor weren’t all that great, but Hermione was the only one who actually went to all her classes. Ron, however, seemed to be the least worthy candidate. He was failing his classes, skipped them frequently, and was rude to the professors when he did show up. He was the opposite of a good role model. Honestly, the honor should have gone to Neville. He would have been great at it.
On the night before his return to Hogwarts, Harry overheard a very interesting Order of the Phoenix meeting. Since Lupin had forgotten to tell him what the Order actually was, Harry had to learn by observing and eavesdropping on their meetings. He was able to figure out that they were basically Dumbledore’s army of people who wanted Voldemort dead. He also found out that they don’t really do much right now, other than talk about how they hoped the Boy-Who-Lived would save them all. That really pissed Harry off because it was like they decided they weren’t going to do anything since one person might have the chance to do it for them.
This night was different though. On this night, they were talking about actually taking action against Voldemort, but not in a battle or anything, by having one person guard the Department of Mysteries on a rotation schedule. He had learned what the Department of Mysteries was and about how Voldemort wanted a prophecy there ages ago by eavesdropping, but it had always annoyed him that they never did anything about it. Voldemort was free to just waltz in there to take it. That was, apparently, until tonight, when they drafted up a 12 hour rotation schedule of who would be guardian of it and when. It was still doomed to fail, because how could one person fight off Voldemort and/or a group of Death Eaters, but it was better than nothing.
Another thing that triggered him about the Order was that they seemed to not want Harry to know anything about it, despite them relying on him to win this war for them. How is he ever supposed to do that, if he decides to, if he knows nothing about what Voldemort is doing? They say he is too young to know, but apparently he isn't too young to actually fight Voldemort. The double standards went crazy.
When the day came for them to return to Hogwarts, Harry was overjoyed. He could not wait to be able to experience the world again. If he had to spend one more day stuck in that goddamn house, Harry didn't know if he would survive.
Around 8:00 a.m, he grabbed his trunk, which was heavier than usual due to all of the books in it, and began his way to the front of the house. When he said goodbye to the library yesterday, a good 15 books came floating over to him, and the library’s intent with them was obvious. It wanted him to take them with him. Over the course of his time at Grimmauld place, Harry had grown to believe that the library was at least semi-sentient. It didn’t really have emotions, but it definitely had its own thoughts. It had become sort of his safe haven. No one had ever found him there, meaning he could spend as much time as he wanted alone without being disturbed. He loved the place and was sad to have to leave it, but he wasn’t so emotionally connected to it that he couldn’t leave it. That would be weird. He did make sure the library knew he would miss it though, and with that thought, took the 15 books with him and packed them in his trunk.
Two of the books were about occluding, somewhere on defensive and offensive magic, one was on potions, one on wand making, and the rest were on runes, reminding Harry that he needed to research the bracelets stuck on his wrist to make sure he wasn’t being slowly killed. He never really forgot the bracelets, but they never seemed of dire importance so he hadn’t researched runes at all. He would definitely research them at Hogwarts, especially since he planned on spending more time in the library.
The strangest thing he packed was the locket he had found in Regulus’s room. He didn't know why he did it. The dumb thing was probably cursed, but he felt invested now. He had to open it. He needed to know what was inside.
To get to the station, the Order had called a few taxis in advance to pick them all up and bring them to the platform. It was quite hilarious to see the drivers' faces at all of the owls. Hedwig had found Grimmauld place a few weeks after Harry arrived, just as he had told her to, but since Harry spent most of his time in the library, she spent most of her time flying around London and stretching her wings. Once or twice, she joined him in the library for the day, but Harry knew she wanted to fly around free. He couldn’t blame her. He wanted that as well.
During the ride to the station, he was unfortunate enough to be sat next to Ginny. Next to Ginny was Ron, who angrily ignored him and seemed happy at the suffering Harry was facing because of Ginny. The girl would not stop talking to him and flirting with him. Many people thought he was an oblivious idiot who couldn’t tell when someone liked him or when someone wanted to use him for fame, but he knew. He always did. He had to when he lived with the Dursleys. He needed to be able to read their moods and intentions in order to survive.
It wasn’t like Ginny was trying to hide it either. The moon eyes were kind of hard to ignore, and if those didn’t set him off, the cupid she had sent him in second year told him everything he needed to know. Her flirting had gotten more and more obnoxious over the years and Harry couldn’t stand it.
By the end of the car ride, Harry could tell even the driver was annoyed with Ginny. Harry couldn’t blame him. He was about to rip his own ears off. Ginny just would not shut up and continued speaking in this high pitched voice that Harry knew was fake. He hoped for the drivers sake that the Order tipped him well.
When they had their trunks situated out and were on the Platform, they had about 30 minutes until the train left. It was the earliest Harry had ever arrived at the Platform and it was strange. There weren't a hundred screaming kids wondering where their toad was or where they were going to sit. Harry couldn’t complain though, because that meant he could find his own little compartment all for himself where he didn’t have to talk to anyone.
Just as Harry was about to enter the train, Sirius in dog form nudged the back of his leg and used his snout to point to a secluded area. He got the hint that Sirius wanted to talk and reluctantly obliged. All he wanted to do right now was get to his compartment, crack open a book, and be alone, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Merlin, he was turning into a nerd. Hopefully the conversation would be about what he had asked Sirius to think about when he had arrived at Grimmauld Place. Though he didn’t know if he could handle Sirius choosing Dumbledore over him if that was the conclusion Sirius reached.
Sirius shifted almost immediately when they reached the spot, a dumb move because Sirius hadn’t even checked if there was anyone around that might have seen him. That angered Harry a bit because it wasn’t like Sirius was a wanted criminal or anything. He did understand that Sirius had been locked away in Grimmauld place far longer than he had so he had to cut him a bit of slack, but if he wanted to remain in Grimmauld Place and not Azkaban, he should be more careful.
“Harry, I just wanted to say goodbye in person,” Sirius said, smiling a bit.
Harry had to stop his jaw from dropping. Sirius could have done that back at Grimmauld place, instead of risking his safety to transform here. Harry thought this would have been Sirius finally choosing if he was on Harry’s or Dumbledore’s side. Not bloody this. Did Sirius even think about what he had asked him?
“And you couldn’t have done this back at Grimmauld Place where it would be a bit safer?” Harry asked incredulously.
Harry watched Sirius’s smile fade and then let out a groan.
“Not you as well,” he whined, “Everyone has been saying what I’m doing is reckless and I can get caught, but they’re not the ones stuck in that awful place.”
“Sirius, you do realize that you're not only putting yourself in danger by coming here, you are also putting the people who helped you in danger as well? Everyone in the Order could suffer if you got caught. I get it. It sucks being locked in one place and never being able to leave. It's horrible. But coming out in dog form is already freedom in itself. There is no reason to risk the safety of everyone to do something you already had the opportunity to do,” Harry told him.
“But you don’t understand! You’ve never been in this situation before. I am miserable,” Sirius tried to defend himself.
Harry fucking understood his situation. Definitely better than Sirius himself did. At least Grimmauld Place was large. It wasn’t the size of a bloody cupboard, where Harry had been trapped for weeks at a time.
“Harry, I came here to say goodbye and you’re being rude.”
“And I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but you could have done this in a safer location that didn’t risk everyone's safety,” Harry responded, “I thought you were going to have the conversation we had when I had arrived at Grimmauld Place. Did you even think about it?”
“I don’t know what you want me to think about, Harry! I’ve accepted the fact that Dumbledore could have given me a trial. I have accepted that if I just hadn’t let Dumbledore talk me into a Secret Keeper switch that James might still be alive. I’ve accepted it all and decided to let Dumbledore continue on as he does. He obviously has a better chance at fighting Voldemort than any of us! I’m just a small part of this war so if Dumbledore wants to use me, why not let him? At least it's for a good cause!” Sirius shouted.
Harry looked around to see if anyone had heard Sirius screaming. Stretching his magic a bit, Harry realized there was a magic bubble around them. Probably a silencing spell if Harry had to guess since no one turned around in response to the commotion Sirius was causing.
“So it’s okay to send someone to Azkaban for twelve years for the ‘greater good’ and it's okay to let a child become a soldier at age eleven for the ‘greater good.’ Acting maliciously is ok just because it might lead to something better? What benefit did going to Azkaban even serve?” Harry responded.
He didn’t feel comfortable telling Sirius about the Dursleys, especially not after the man had basically stated he would be with Dumbledore no matter what.
“What is anyone else doing to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Dumbledore is our only option if we want to see that evil madman gone! If I had to go to Azkaban for it, so what? At least it was for a good reason,” Sirius defended his stance.
“What was that good reason though? And what about me? Why did I have to be the ‘Chosen One’? Why couldn’t it have been an adult or someone more equipped for such a job? Why didn’t you care? You never talk, you rarely send letters, and you can’t see me as anyone other than mini James!” Harry cried.
Harry himself felt surprised at his outburst. He didn’t know where it had come from. He must have been repressing more than he thought. He reached up to his eyes and was surprised to find he was crying a bit.
“It sucks, Harry. I don’t know why it had to be you and why it couldn’t be someone more capable, but that is the way it is. I don't know why I needed to go to Azkaban. I do know you need to fight because you're the only one able to. Dumbledore has made that clear, and as I said, he is the only one doing anything. Your life may not be the best, but think about how you're going to make everyone else’s life better. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has killed thousands and will continue to do so if he isn’t stopped. Don’t you want to save them?” Sirius tried to reason.
Harry stared at Sirius for a second. Harry's face showed surprise, then hurt, then nothing. Sirius had basically just told him that his suffering didn’t matter because it was going to benefit everyone else. Harry understood that, to a point. One life is inconsequential compared to thousands. Just… why did it have to be him? Or at least, why couldn't anyone help him? Why did he have to bear this alone?
“I have tried, so hard, to believe that you would stay with me," Harry slowly articulated, trying to control his emotions, "I've tried so hard to believe that you would be this great godfather who would save me from everything that's been happening. You’re the only family I have left, you know. But I can see that isn’t going to happen. It’s obvious you are with Dumbledore though and through, no matter what. Dumbledore could probably commit mass genocide and you would still stand by him, saying that it was for a good reason. I can’t continue to try and have a relationship with you if that is how it’s going to be. I am so done. Goodbye Sirius. I need to get to my train. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Sirius's mouth dropped open. It looked like he had no clue what to say. Harry didn't bother waiting for him to find any words. So, Harry turned and left the one person he had thought was going to be his savior. The person he used to dream of when he was a child locked up in a cupboard. This man had been his idol, and Harry should have trusted the people when they said ‘don’t meet your idols’.
He still loved his godfather, and that hurt. He was seriously fucked up wasn’t he. For a second, it looked like Sirius was going to call after him, asking Harry to talk more and maybe even try to understand where Harry was coming from. A small part of Harry wished he would, and Harry hated himself for it. Instead, Sirius just shook his head sadly, like Harry was a lost cause. The man shifted into his dog form and followed behind him as he went to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
Harry felt himself tear up, but he quickly whipped those tears away. He wasn’t so weak as to cry in public. Sure, he pretty much had no family now, but that’s okay. He was used to that. He could cope, just as he always did. Harry bottled up his emotions and his face was completely blank by the time he reached Mrs. Weasley.
“Did you have a nice time saying goodbye?” Mrs. Weasley asked.
She really could not read the room.
“Spectacular,” Harry dryly responded.
“I’ll say this for the one hundred thousandth time, watch your attitude, boy. Honestly, you used to be so well-mannered. What happened to the boy I knew?” Mrs. Weasley reprimanded.
Harry could not handle someone calling him boy right now.
“Life,” was all Harry said before he walked off onto the train, ending the conversation there without saying goodbye.
Let him have his teenage angst moment. He had just virtually lost his last remaining family member. He ignored the stares he got as he entered the train and found his own little compartment. Just as he wanted. He pulled out one of the new school books from his bag, his Defense Against the Dark Arts book by the looks of it, and got to reading.
The first page of the book stated that it would not be teaching how to actually do any of the magic it taught, only the theory of it. Harry scoffed. Who the hell was going to be their new teacher?
This ought to be an interesting school year.