The Hidden Hero

Harry settled into Hogwarts quickly. He found his way around the castle without any problem after only a day or two of being confused by the winding passages. It took the other first year students a few weeks before they knew their way around as well.

Harry also settled into a routine of school work very quickly. Most of his classes were interesting, but with lots of homework. Of his teachers, only Professor Snape was not very nice. He was the teacher Harry had noticed the first night who had seemed so grumpy. It was clear that he did not like children and Harry wondered why he had chosen to become a teacher.

Harry studied extra hard for Snape’s Potions class so that he wouldn’t be caught unprepared if Snape asked him a question. Snape enjoyed asking students difficult questions and ridiculing those who didn’t know the answers. Harry knew that he had Snape’s grudging respect because Snape generally left him alone in class. Snape delighted in badgering poor Neville, who was a terrible student in Potions, and in sniping at Hermione Granger, who was too pushy in her eagerness to prove herself. Harry did his homework diligently, carefully prepared the potions assignments in class, and only answered questions when Snape addressed him directly.

Harry was determined to learn as much about the wizarding world as he could, as quickly as he could. Ron bemoaned Harry’s tendency to study in the evenings and weekends, rather than playing wizards’ chess or some other game. But, nothing could have scandalized Ron more than when “Mark” turned down the position of seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

The excitement had all been caused by Draco Malfoy’s being such a jerk. Gryffindor and Slytherin first years were scheduled to share flying class. In the very first class, Neville Longbottom had kicked off too quickly and had lost control of his broom, falling and breaking his wrist. Madam Hooch had taken Neville to the hospital wing, telling the class sternly not to try any flying while she was away. Draco had spotted Neville’s Remembrall, which had dropped out of Neville’s robes when he had come crashing to the ground.

“Look,” he told the class, holding the Remembrall above his head. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

Harry stepped forward and said, “Give that here, Malfoy.”

Draco sneered at Harry, “Are you talking to me, Twist? I don’t listen to mudbloods!” Draco ignored the gasps from the other students at his use of the foul word. “I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?”

Draco mounted his broom and quickly soared high above the watching students. Without stopping to think, Harry grabbed his broom, mounted, kicked off and rose quickly into the air. It was clear that Draco had not expected Harry to be able to follow him. However, Draco was not about to allow a mudblood to tell him what to do. He flew in circles, avoiding his pursuer. But, however Draco twisted, Harry followed and it was evident that he would soon be able to grab the Remembrall from Draco’s hand. To avoid the humiliating defeat, Draco took the Remembrall and threw it far and high, saying “Catch it if you can, then!” Having thrown the ball, Draco then flew back down to the ground and dismounted among his fellow Slytherins.

Harry watched as the Remembrall soared high into the air. Pointing his broom in the direction of the arc of its descent, Harry dove after the ball. With the wind in his face, blowing his hair back against his head, Harry felt a freedom he had never known. This was the most exhilarating experience of his life! He wished he could fly for hours. Eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun, he targeted the Remembrall in his sights and gave chase. This was fun! He swerved to intercept the ball, accelerating with precision, catching the ball handily, and pulling up a few feet before the ground leveled. He dismounted with ease.

Harry barely had time to grin with triumph, however, before he saw to his horror that Professor McGonagall was sweeping toward him. Her jaw was clenched and her face was pale. Uh oh!

The boy stood quietly, without moving, as his head of house approached. The other students watched breathlessly from a few yards away. Draco’s eyes glittered and he smirked maliciously. Harry saw Draco’s sneer out of the corner of his eye and he resolved that he would not give him the satisfaction of showing any nervousness. However, it would have been clear to anyone standing close to the boy that he was worried, as his eyes gave him away.

“Twist!” said Professor McGonagall. “That was the most brilliant flying I’ve ever seen. You had no right to be on the broom, of course, and I never want to see you flying without a teacher present again. But, as head of Gryffindor house, I would be remiss if I didn’t focus on the greater message here. You are meant to be seeker! I’m going to take you to see Oliver Wood right now.” At Harry’s puzzled expression, she explained, “Wood is the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.”

She turned to lead Harry to meet Oliver Wood, but Harry stopped her. “I’m sorry, Professor. But, I don’t understand. What do you mean I am meant to be seeker?”

Harry was vaguely aware that the other students were whispering excitedly among themselves and that Draco looked furious. But, Harry focused on Professor McGonagall, who had turned back to face him. “Of course, Twist. I forgot that you are muggleborn and wouldn’t understand. Quidditch, you may have heard, is one of our favorite sports. Here at Hogwarts, each house has a Quidditch team, and they compete to win the Quidditch cup each year. A seeker plays a key position on the team. Gryffindor needs a new seeker this year and you are obviously meant to be that seeker. You would be the youngest player in a century but you are clearly a natural! What talent!”

Draco’s mouth twisted in disgust and envy. The other students listened wide-eyed at the extravagant praise.

Harry had indeed already heard of Quidditch. It was immensely popular at the school. But, Harry knew that any sports team would require a lot of practice, and he didn’t want to take so much time away from his studies. He also was concerned about attracting too much attention. Already, he could see from a quick glance at the other students shamelessly listening to the conversation that he was being regarded with awe (and, in the case of Draco, increasing dislike). In the persona of Mark Twist, Harry had not wanted to stand out. The last thing he wished to do was to attract attention. And, unfortunately, he already suspected that he had attracted attention, what with his name appearing on the Hogwarts registry so unexpectedly.

Quietly, Harry said, “I’m sorry, Professor. But, I’m not interested in being on the team.”

Silence reigned for what seemed, to Harry, to be an eternity. Then, exclamations of dismay from the listening Gryffindors filled the air. Ron’s cry of “Are you crazy?” was so loud, it was easily heard over the other students’ protests. Professor McGonagall stared in shock at Harry. Clearly, she had never expected that any student would turn down a chance to play seeker. “But…but…” she spluttered. She took a breath and regained her composure. “But why not?”

“I think being on a team would take too much time, Professor. I’m more interested in keeping up my grades than in playing a sport.”

Professor McGonagall was taken aback but wasn’t willing to give up yet. “Other students have been able to balance schoolwork with sports, Twist.”

“I don’t feel that I could do the same, ma’am. As you know, I’m muggleborn and I feel that I have a lot of studying to do to catch up to some of my classmates. Maybe, next year. But, this year, I’d like to concentrate on my studies.”

“I see.” Professor McGonagall’s eyes were wide in shock and disappointment. “Well, if that’s your decision…”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“You don’t want to think about it some more?” she asked hopefully.

“No, ma’am,” Harry said, firmly.

“All right, then. I am disappointed.” She turned to go back inside the castle, but then looked back over her shoulder. “I’ll be hoping for next year, Twist,” she promised. “Class, you are dismissed. I’ll tell Madam Hooch that I let you leave. It seems that she’s been delayed and there’s no point in your remaining here.” So saying, Professor McGonagall marched back into the castle.

The Slytherins trailed back into the castle, with Draco sneering at Harry over his shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, “Show off!”

But, Harry didn’t notice Draco. He was too busy fending off the furious words of his fellow Gryffindors; “How could you?” “Are you nuts?” among the questions thrown at him.

Ron moaned, “For studying! Giving up Quidditch for studying!”

Hermione chimed in, “Well, I for one admire you, Mark.”

“You would!” snorted Ron.

“Everyone, everyone!” Harry had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the other students. “I’m sorry, but I’ve made my decision. I’m not playing Quidditch.”

Reluctantly accepting Harry’s decision, the Gryffindors headed back to the castle, grumbles slowly subsiding as they approached the door. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” warned Ron.

“I do,” promised Harry.

Although he couldn’t admit it to Ron or anyone else, Harry was not as calm about his decision not to play Quidditch as he wanted to appear. In the privacy of his thoughts, he mourned the lost opportunity. He knew he would have loved it. Flying! Everyone cheering for him! He could almost taste the triumph of a winning game. But, it was dangerous. He knew it. He had to keep a low profile. He had to focus on learning. It was the only way to survive. He ruthlessly suppressed daydreams of sports victories in which he would win the day in the last second of the game, to the delight of the cheering fans. Instead, almost as a punishment, he forced himself to spend the rest of the day inside the library, learning the history of Goblin rebellions.

Harry would have been upset to learn that his refusal to be on the Gryffindor team attracted the very attention he sought to avoid. Dumbledore had overheard Professor McGonagall bemoaning Mark Twist’s refusal to join the team at lunch later that day. “Can you believe that anyone would turn down being seeker?” Professor McGonagall asked Professor Sprout.

Before Professor Sprout could do more than tsk sympathetically, Dumbledore had interrupted. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Minerva. But, did I overhear you to say that you had asked Mark Twist to be the Gryffindor house seeker and he refused?”

“That’s right, Albus!” said Professor McGonagall, turning to find another sympathetic listener. “You wouldn’t believe what a natural flyer that boy is! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a better. It was his first flying lesson and he moved as one with that broom! But, when I told him I wanted him to be seeker, he looked shocked and then said, thank you, but he didn’t want to play sports at school.”

“Did he give you a reason why?” Dumbledore pressed.

“Yes. He said that he wanted to devote more time to his studies. Well, as his teacher, I couldn’t very well tell him not to spend more time studying, now could I?”

Dumbledore “hmmed” in response, but was saved from responding when Professor McGonagall’s attention was caught by Professor Sprout again and the two teachers began discussing another topic. Left to his own musings, Professor Dumbledore once again found himself thinking about the strange boy, Mark Twist. It was a very unusual 11 year old boy who would turn down such an honor. Was his excuse of wanting to study a pretext? Or, was he telling the truth? If the truth, why so studious? Even a Ravenclaw would have jumped at the chance of being on a Quidditch team. What an unusual boy!

*

As the weeks passed, Harry found that he enjoyed studying. It was satisfying to master a spell or brew a perfect potion and homework was not as daunting when he paced himself throughout the week. He did not fear being called on in any class because he usually knew the answers.

He became friendly with Hermione Granger, who was often in the library studying as well. With Harry as the buffer, Ron slowly warmed to Hermione. However, Ron didn’t enjoy spending his nights as studiously as Harry and Hermione and he became friendly with Seamus and Dean, oftentimes spending the evenings playing games in the corner of the Gryffindor common room with those boys.

In the library, Harry surreptitiously researched any history about Harry Potter that he could find. The books confirmed what he had learned from Hagrid and the Weasleys. Interestingly, the books did not mention the prophecy his aunt had told him about. In Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Harry unexpectedly came across a picture of his parents. He had turned the page and there it was. He felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. There. Smiling up at him. His parents, holding an infant Harry.

The picture had obviously been taken shortly before their deaths. They looked so young. His mother – Harry touched the picture reverently – she was so beautiful. And his father! With the same dark messy hair that Harry had. And he wore glasses too!

James looked so happy. His arm draped around Lily’s shoulder, he stared straight into the camera, smiling widely – so proud of his little family. Baby Harry waved his fists in the air and smiled innocently.

Looking at the happy group, Harry felt the force of all that he had lost. With a trembling hand, he traced the faces of his parents. It took all his will to close the book and return it to the library shelf. If he had thought he could get away with ripping the photograph out of the book, he would have done so without hesitation. He was worried, however, that Madam Pince had placed enchantments on the books to alert her if they were defaced in any way.

Instead, Harry contented himself with writing to Flourish and Blotts, asking to purchase a copy of the book. In the week before it arrived, he visited the library daily to gaze at the photo. When his own copy was delivered, he tore the page out of the book and carried the photo with him everywhere in a concealed pocket in his robe.

*

The year passed quietly, with only a few exciting moments. During the Halloween feast, a troll somehow entered the castle. He was eventually stopped by the teachers but his foul smell lingered for a few weeks, giving the students much to chatter about. Professor Snape had apparently been injured in the fight with the troll because the students noticed that he limped for a few days afterwards. However, the one student brave enough to ask Professor Snape how he had gotten hurt had received a detention for being nosy, so no one knew for sure.

Harry was careful to send himself letters from time to time, purportedly from his “parents”. At Christmas, which he spent at Hogwarts, he sent himself a few gifts as well. It was an odd experience -- opening up presents that he had sent himself, pretending to be surprised and happy. But, no one was suspicious, which was the important thing.

Harry became very close to Hagrid. Befriending a fellow scholarship student, Hagrid often invited Harry to his hut for tea on Saturdays. Sometimes, Ron or Hermione accompanied him and the three found the gamekeeper to be a very kind-hearted, jovial man. They had been very alarmed, however, when they found that Hagrid had hatched a dragon. Hermione had insisted that they tell Dumbledore and ask him what to do and, after much debate, Harry and Ron reluctantly agreed with her.

After lunch one day, shortly after learning of “Norbert’s” existence, the three children approached Professor Dumbledore at the staff table. Harry poked Hermione and she took a gulp and stepped forward, with Ron and Harry flanking her. “Professor Dumbledore, sir.”

Professor Dumbledore had watched the three approach him and smiled kindly at them. “Yes, dear? Can I help you?”

“Yes, sir. May we have a moment of your time, please? There’s something we wish to discuss with you…in private, if you would, sir.”

Surprised, Dumbledore’s eyebrows raised. “Of course. Please follow me.” He rose from the table and led the three from the Great Hall. They followed in silence, down a few passageways, until they came to a doorway guarded by a stone griffin. Dumbledore raised his hand to the statue and it sprang aside, revealing a spiral stone staircase behind it. The stairs began to move upward, in a corkscrew manner, until they reached the floor on which Dumbledore had his office.

Politely beckoning them inside, Dumbledore gestured for them to sit in some chairs in front of his desk. Apparently realizing that his guests would be more at ease if he sat down as well, Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk. The children were too nervous to accept Dumbledore’s offer of a lemon drop.

Clearing her throat, Hermione said, “Thank you, Professor, for agreeing to see us. We have a delicate matter we need to discuss with you.”

Her courage apparently failed her, because she didn’t seem to know how to proceed. When the silence started to stretch out uncomfortably, Harry piped up. “We have a friend, Headmaster, who has done something…unwise… and we’d like to help him fix the situation. But, we want to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble. If we tell you the problem, would you be able to help us and not punish our friend?”

Dumbledore looked at Harry consideringly. “Who is your friend?”

Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron, who said nothing. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t tell you until you promise that he won’t get into trouble.”

“Is this ‘friend’ really yourself?”

“I can’t say yes or no, sir, until you give us your word you won’t punish this person.”

“I cannot make such a blanket promise, although I will take your concern into consideration before deciding any punishment. Now, please tell me the name of your friend.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” Harry stood up to leave. “Thank you for time, sir, but I think we’ll have to figure out what to do on our own.”

“Sit down, Mr. Twist.” Harry sat down, reluctantly. “As Headmaster of this school, I’m afraid I must insist. Please tell me who has done something that has obviously broken the rules. If you don’t tell me, I’m afraid I have no choice but to give you detention.”

Harry ignored the gasps of his friends and, pale with anger, eyes sparkling, glared at the Headmaster. “I’m sorry, sir. But, I have nothing to say to you.”

“Even if I were to tell you that you would be expelled?” Dumbledore looked seriously at the boy in front of him.

Harry’s anger fled. He felt his blood run cold and his mouth went dry. He breathed out in shock. “No!” he heard Hermione say.

“We’ll tell you,” said Ron.

But Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Hermione and Ron. “I would like to hear from Mr. Twist,” he said quietly.

Harry had started to shake. He was glad he was sitting, because he didn’t think his legs would support him. If he was expelled, it was back to the boarding house for him. Back to worrying about his every meal and being so lonely, he thought he would choke on it. But, he couldn’t turn in Hagrid. He just couldn’t. What kind of man was Dumbledore? Why had he ever thought to trust him? Because he had stupidly listened to Hermione and Ron, that’s why. They had convinced him that the Headmaster would know what to do and would protect Hagrid. Should he tell Dumbledore that Hagrid had a dragon? Dumbledore liked Hagrid. Maybe, everything would be fine. But, what if Dumbledore decided that Hagrid had finally gone too far? What if he told Hagrid he would have to leave Hogwarts?

Harry opened his mouth and tried to speak. It took him a few attempts, but finally he was able to say, hoarsely, “I’m sorry, sir. But, I can’t tell you.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “I appreciate your loyalty, Mr. Twist. I give you my word that I will not punish the wrongdoer. You may proceed.”

It took the three students a few moments to process that Dumbledore apparently didn’t intend to expel Harry after all. Harry was so overwhelmed, Hermione took one look at his face and decided that she should continue speaking. “It’s Hagrid, sir. He’s hatched a dragon, sir, and is hiding it in his hut.”

Dumbledore had not been expecting this. His eyes flew open and, after a minute, started to sparkle with suppressed mirth. “Trust Hagrid to try to hide a dragon.” He was silent another minute and then said, “Thank you for telling me. I will speak with Hagrid and I will find another home for the dragon.”

“Thank you sir,” chorused Ron and Hermione. Harry was silent.

He was incredibly relieved that he was not going to be expelled. But, he was confused. Why had Dumbledore tried to scare him? And, why him so particularly? Dumbledore hadn’t tried to get Hermione or Ron to tell him whom they were protecting. It was as if Dumbledore was testing Harry and Harry alone. It was a very cruel trick the Headmaster had played on him. Harry thought it would be days before his heartbeat settled down to a steady beat again.

When Ron and Hermione stood up to leave, Harry dutifully followed. He turned to follow his friends out the door, but Professor Dumbledore called to him, “Mr. Twist. If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.” When Ron and Hermione hesitated at the door, the Headmaster addressed them, “Don’t worry, your friend will join you in just a minute.”

Casting a scared glance at their friend, Ron and Hermione had no choice but to leave the office. Harry sat back down, his heart thumping unpleasantly again. Was he going to get into trouble, after all?

Dumbledore regarded the boy sitting so stiffly in the chair in front of him. It was highly encouraging that the boy had refused to betray a friend.

“Mr. Twist, I’m sorry that I asked you to betray a secret. I apologize for the little drama we just enacted but, to be honest, I wanted to learn a bit more about you. You see, I’m aware that you possess the twin wand to Lord Voldemort’s.” Harry’s mouth dropped open. He had not been expecting this sudden change in topic. And, Dumbledore had said Voldemort’s name! Everyone else referred to the Dark Lord as “You Know You” or “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Yes. Mr. Ollivander wrote to me after you left his shop last August. I was intrigued and, I must admit, a bit alarmed. I wanted to know the character of the boy chosen by this wand. As Mr. Ollivander no doubt told you, the phoenix who gave his tail feather to Lord Voldemort’s wand also gave a feather to just one other wand, yours.”

At this, there was the sound of a soft trill in the corner of the room. It was a sound unlike any Harry had ever heard. It was like a warm drop of hot chocolate on a cold day. It was like he imagined a mother’s hug would be. Looking in the corner, Harry noticed, for the first time, a beautiful bird, slightly hidden by a bookcase.

Dumbledore gestured to the bird. “Ah, Fawkes wants credit. Yes, the phoenix feathers came from this phoenix, here. Fawkes.”

At Harry’s stunned look, Dumbledore chuckled. “I trust, Mr. Twist, that you will use your wand for noble deeds. Thank you again for coming to tell me about Hagrid. I will take care of the problem.”

Understanding that he had been dismissed, Harry rose and, with shaky legs, left the office. Only hours later, after he had reached his room and replayed the conversation in his head for the umpteenth time, did Harry realize that he had been so overwhelmed, he hadn’t even said goodbye to the Headmaster.

*

True to his word, the Headmaster had arranged a new home for Norbert. Harry was relieved when the dragon was taken away without anyone, apparently, the wiser. Hagrid was hard to console, however. He got drunk the day that Norbert left, and sobbed drunkenly into his ale.

Harry, who was visiting Hagrid for tea, tried unsuccessfully to cheer him up. Tentatively, Harry suggested that, perhaps, Norbert would thrive better in his new home.

“If I can raise a three-headed dog, I can certainly raise a dragon,” Hagrid mumbled.

Harry was impressed. “Really, Hagrid. You had a three-headed dog? How cool is that!”

Hagrid was flattered by Harry’s admiration. “It was easy to train, once ye knew the trick o’ it. Ye just played music and it went right to sleep.”

“Where is it now? I’d love to see a three-headed dog.”

“Fluffy’s up at the school. Maybe I’ll take ye to see it someday.”

“Up at the school? How come I’ve never seen it?”

But, at that question, Hagrid seemed to sober somewhat and did not seem pleased that he had even mentioned Fluffy. Harry was sorry to let the topic drop; a three-headed dog would certainly be a sight to see!

*

The weeks that followed were uneventful. One day, toward the end of term, however, Harry unexpectedly found himself face to face with Lord Voldemort once again.