The Hidden Hero

The next morning, at breakfast, several of the students held copies of the Daily Prophet. Harry blushed to see his photograph staring out of the front page, under the headline, “The Face of Harry Potter”. His photographic image was looking a little to the left and smiling slightly.

Harry thought that the photograph must have been snapped in the split second before he had realized that the reporters had descended upon them. He was pretty sure he had been speaking with Ron at the moment that the photograph had been taken. His photographic self would face straight forward every so often, look surprised and a little shy and sidle slightly toward the edge of the frame.

Harry pretended great interest in his breakfast as Hermione unfolded the paper in front of her porridge bowl. “You should have brushed your hair, Harry.”

“What?” he asked startled. He raised a hand uncertainly to his head. He was pretty sure that he had brushed his hair this morning. Hadn’t he? Hermione’s question made him cast his mind back to his morning grooming and, after a moment in thought, he nodded his head decisively and said, “I did brush my hair.”

She smirked. “I don’t mean today, Harry. I meant for the photograph!” She pointed a finger toward the Daily Prophet cover.

“Oh,” Harry ducked his head and blushed. Under his breath, he muttered, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be snapping photos.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Hermione soothed. “It’s actually quite a good picture of you.”

Harry looked up, and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t worrying!”

“I’m glad it’s a good picture,” continued Hermione. “Don’t forget, most people had no idea what you looked like, Harry. This is the first chance they have of seeing you.”

Ron, overhearing, leaned over and said, “It’s too bad that they’ll be disappointed to see your ugly mug!”

“Ron!” scolded Hermione. “Harry looks very handsome.”

Harry knew Ron was just teasing, but he thought Hermione was being kind. Studying his photograph with a critical eye, he saw the edges of his scar peeking out from behind his bangs. He wished he had brushed his hair – he would have made sure that his scar was hidden.

“Admiring yourself, Potter?”

Harry dropped the paper as if it were on fire and spun around. There was Draco. Harry’s face flamed.

“No!” spluttered Harry. “I was just…just…”

“Not interested, Potter,” dismissed Draco, with a regal wave of his hand. “I am here to collect.”

“Collect?”

“You may remember that we had a bet. A bet in which you promised to do one thing I asked you to do?”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. He swallowed and nodded, his eyes fixed on Draco’s. Oh, no!

Around him, Hermione and Ron waited with baited breath.

Draco allowed the silence to build, enjoying Harry’s alarm. “What?!” Harry demanded, hating the suspense.

Draco smirked, pleased. “You will be attending the Minister’s brunch next Saturday with me. Elmer Fellwert is giving a lecture on the importance of foreign investment in Brazil for the production of potion ingredients. My father will be there, as will many prominent wizard families. These type of meetings occur every few months and it will be a coup for me to have you attend as my guest.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. He had thought Draco might make him walk through the halls of Hogwarts singing the school song at the top of his lungs, or some other similar ridiculous, but embarrassing, prank. Automatically, Harry started to shake his head.

“No, no. Thank you for the invitation, Draco. But, I really don’t want to go.”

Draco’s smirk grew. “Not an invitation, Potter. An order.”

“That’s unfair!”

“Is it too gross?” Harry shook his head. “Awful?” Harry shook his head again, reluctantly. “Embarrassing?” Harry shook his head one last time. “Then, according to our rules, you must do what I ask,” Draco finished triumphantly.

“Why do you have to go?” Ron asked Draco, curiously. “It sounds boring!”

Draco’s lip lifted in a slight sneer but he tried to keep his tone pleasant enough. “I have attended such events all my life. It is the obligation of those in power to train their children to assume the mantle of leadership.”

Ron and Harry exchanged blank looks at this pompous statement. Under his breath, Ron said, “You and Percy would have gotten along really well.”

Harry meanwhile was casting around for reasons why he couldn’t attend the function. “Snape won’t let me go!” he told Draco, relieved that he had hit upon a valid excuse.

“Already asked him,” retorted Draco. “He’s says it’ll be good for you.”

Harry cast a glare up at the teacher’s table. Snape was watching him, but merely lifted a haughty eyebrow at the scowl on Harry’s face.

“The Minister’s an idiot! I don’t want to go anywhere near him.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow. “Potter, it is often the case that governmental officials are idiots. In fact, sometimes I think it is a requirement of the job. That is no excuse not to cultivate political influence.”

“Dumbledore!” Harry tried again. “Dumbledore won’t want me to go. He doesn’t like underage students to leave the school unsupervised.”

Draco shook his head slowly, enjoying watching Harry squirm. “No good, Potter. Dumbledore will be there!”

Harry looked at Draco, appalled. The blond smiled and said, “Just remember, though. You’re coming as my guest. You’ll be sitting next to me at the table.”

“It sounds as if you want to parade Harry as some sort of trophy!” objected Hermione.

Draco wasn’t thrilled to be addressed by Hermione, but he made an effort to be polite. “As a result of my family’s unfortunate association with You Know Who, we have lost some prestige,” he admitted honestly. “However, having Harry Potter at my side – that will help to re-establish us quite nicely!”

“Is that why you wanted to be friends, Draco?” asked Harry, bitterly.

Draco lost his smile and stared seriously at the other boy. “No, Harry. I meant what I said to you. I am never going to forget what You Know Who was really like and how lucky we are that you were able to defeat him. But,” and he smiled brightly again, “I am a Slytherin and I know how to turn events to my advantage. I have been thinking and thinking about what to do with the bet you lost and this event is perfect!”

“Damn!” said Harry, trapped.

“Next Saturday, Potter! Make sure you wear some nice robes. Oh, and brush your hair!”

*

The next Saturday saw a very reluctant Harry accompany Dumbledore and Draco to the Ministry. They used the floo in Dumbledore’s office, which had a direct connection to the Ministry for the day.

A Ministry representative was waiting for them and immediately escorted them directly to the private salon where the brunch was being held. There were ten round tables, each seating about ten people. Each table held a beautiful arrangement of flowers, topping the white tablecloths. Crystal, china, and goblin-wrought utensils sparkled at each setting.

Well-dressed witches and wizards were standing around the room, mingling and sipping delicately at their goblets. Elves discreetly circulated, passing around hors d’ouevres and refilling glasses.

When he entered, Harry glanced around the room. The witches and wizards had an air of wealth and power. And, from the expensive rug at his feet to the mahogany panels and serious-faced portraits decorating the walls, the room smelled of money.

As Dumbledore and the boys entered the room, everyone fell silent. Harry was learning to expect this reaction but it was still awkward to feel pinned by all eyes in a room. Scrimgeour strode over to the group immediately.

“Welcome! Welcome!” He shook Dumbledore and Draco’s hands, but his eyes never left Harry. When he shook Harry’s hand (which Harry had offered reluctantly), he didn’t release it but used the momentum of his hand shake to pull the boy forward.

“Harry! We are so incredibly pleased to have you here today. There are a number of people who are eager to meet you. Please let me introduce you around.”

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm and he was already shaking his head when Dumbledore intervened. “Rufus. Let’s not forget that Harry is Draco’s guest.” Draco cast a grateful look at the headmaster. “I’m sure that Draco would be pleased for you to accompany him as he makes his rounds.”

“Certainly!” agreed Scrimgeour, but he looked less than pleased. Harry pulled his hand free from the Minister’s grip and took a step backwards. But Draco’s hand on his back propelled him forward again.

“First, Harry, I’d like to say hello to my father,” said Draco, steering Harry toward Lucius Malfoy who was standing in the midst of a group of wizards, silently observing his son arrive.

Harry had no intention of shaking Lucius’ hand. Lucius had been among the Death Eaters present the night Voldemort had been reborn. He had “seen” Lucius through Voldemort’s eyes over the months Harry had peeked into the Dark Lord’s mind. The only reason Lucius turned against Voldemort was because the Dark Lord was such a nut job that even his own Death Eaters weren’t safe. If Voldemort had only hurt other people, Lucius would have been happy to stay a Death Eater, loyal to Voldemort to the end.

Harry needn’t have worried. Lucius was a clever man and knew better than to risk a rebuff. He lifted the goblet he was holding in Harry’s direction. The fire-whiskey inside swirled, catching the light. “Mr. Potter,” said Lucius politely.

Harry gave a small inclination of his own head.

Not wishing to risk any further interaction between his father and Harry, Draco quickly drew Harry’s attention to the other members of Lucius’ group. Harry didn’t even attempt to remember their names. He murmured polite greetings and shook the hands of the nearest wizards and witches, inclining his head politely to those who stood further away.

As they moved away to join another group, Draco whispered in Harry’s ear, “I am going to quiz you later to see whose names you remember, so pay attention!” Harry’s eyes widened in alarm and he cast a look at Draco to see if he was joking. Unfortunately, Draco looked very serious.

Scrimgeour and Draco flanked Harry as they moved from group to group. Harry made an effort to remember the names of the witches and wizards he met, but there were so many of them! The conversation was rather predictable. Everyone expressed their pleasure at meeting him and asked how he was feeling and whether he was enjoying being back at Hogwarts.

When the clock struck noon, Scrimgeour asked people to take their seats to eat their meals while the guest speaker gave his presentation. Harry found himself steered to a table next to the speaker podium. Draco sat to his left with Dumbledore in the next seat. Scrimgeour sat on Harry’s right. Harry didn’t know the other people at his table but he obediently greeted them and repeated their names when Draco refreshed his memory.

The lecture that followed wasn’t as bad as he was expecting. The speaker was entertaining even though his topic was a bit boring. He was certainly very persuasive. Harry was convinced that investment in Brazil was critical to the future economy of the British Isles by the time Mr. Fellwert was done speaking.

After his speech, Mr. Fellwert joined Harry’s table to eat his own meal and to enjoy a leisurely dessert. In the more relaxed setting of the after-meal tea and coffee, Mr. Fellwert started to grill Harry on his financial future.

“So, Mr. Potter, I hope that you found my little talk interesting.”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry politely. “Very.”

“Have I convinced you that you should invest in Brazil? After all, you hold the purse strings to the Potter and Black fortunes. You need to make wise financial decisions.”

Harry was startled. He hadn’t thought of himself as wealthy before. How much money did he have?

Dumbledore responded in Harry’s stead. “Harry is still underage, Elmer. They’ll be time enough to ask him to invest in your schemes when he is of age.”

“Who is making his financial decisions now? Snape?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Harry’s investments are being managed directly by the goblins at Gringott’s. They are a conservative lot, as you know. They will make sure that there is no danger to the principal.”

“Will Harry be able to make his own decisions when he reaches 17?” asked Fellwert.

Harry’s cheeks flamed. “Still here!” he snapped. The people at the table looked at him in surprise. Harry’s cheeks burned more hotly. “I just don’t like people talking about me as if I’m not here,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Fellwert. “You are quite right. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Harry muttered.

Fellwert returned to his topic. “If you’re going to have to make financial decisions in just a few months, it is important that you learn all you can about your options. I can help there.”

Draco piped up. “I am going to be teaching Harry.”

“What?” asked Harry, but his involuntary outburst was lost among the startled comments from the other people at their table. Dumbledore said nothing; it was clear he, at least, was not surprised by this announcement.

Draco ignored Harry and spoke directly to Fellwert. “I will be tutoring Harry in financial matters as well as a number of other things on which he is woefully ignorant.”

“Like what?!” demanded Harry, stung.

Only after he said this did he realize that he should have waited until after the meal to confront Draco. Everyone was eagerly listening to the exchange.

Draco was not shy in pointing out Harry’s deficiencies. “You have no grounding in wizarding protocol. You need to learn proper etiquette, formal conduct, and wizarding genealogy.”

Harry must have made a face at the mention of wizarding genealogy, because Draco continued. “I’m not talking about pureblood status, Potter. I am talking about knowing who is related to whom. It’s very important.”

Harry would have scoffed but most of the other witches and wizards at the table were nodding their heads seriously.

Scrimgeour added, “I think that’s a great idea, Draco. You’re right that we need to fill this serious gap in Harry’s education.”

Draco sat up straighter, basking in the attention of the Minister and other wizards. “I am pleased to do my part to help Harry take his place in the wizarding world.”

Harry snorted and, under the table, Draco stepped on his foot. “I have already spoken with Professor Snape. I will be giving Harry lessons three times a week, an hour a day.”

“You’re kidding!” Harry burst out again.

One of the witches at the table gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but she pulled her napkin close to her lips so Harry couldn’t tell for sure.

“I am not,” said Draco, in that superior tone of his that made Harry want to smack him. “I have already drawn up a syllabus and we start Monday. You will receive marks for the class and have a final exam.”

Harry glanced over to Dumbledore. “Is this true? Is Draco really going to be teaching me Wizard…stuff?” Harry trailed off at the end, at a loss for what to call this proposed class.

“It sounds like a good idea to me, Harry,” Dumbledore admitted.

“But, he’s my age!”

Draco interrupted. “I am not boasting when I say, Potter, that there are few who have the depth of knowledge in this area that I do.” Harry didn’t doubt that he was telling the truth. Draco was every inch the aristocrat.

Harry looked from Draco to Dumbledore in concern. “Is he going to be like a real teacher?”

“What do you mean, Harry?” asked Dumbledore.

“I mean can he give me detentions? I’m not letting Draco give me detentions!”

There was no mistaking the giggle from the witch in the corner now. A number of other wizards were smiling as well.

“Do not worry, Potter,” said Draco, in his deliberate drawl. “I will only give you detentions if you fail to do the homework.”

Harry bared his teeth at the other boy. Draco laughed.

Dumbledore, a note of amusement in his voice, reassured Harry. “Draco will not be able to give you detentions, Harry. If there is a problem with the class, he will speak with Professor Snape or with me.”

“Oh,” Harry subsided. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Draco playing teacher but, at least, he wasn’t going to be a “real” teacher.

Scrimgeour joined in again. “As part of Harry’s education, I hope he can continue to join us at these events.”

Harry shrank back in his seat. He had no interest in coming again. But, he heard Draco speaking for him, “Don’t worry, Minister. Attending these lunches will be part of Harry’s homework assignments!”

Under his breath, Harry groaned. Draco stepped on his foot again.

*

The next number of weeks passed quietly enough. Harry started his classes with Draco, which were surprisingly difficult. Draco took the project very seriously. Harry had nightly homework and long term projects as well. At first, he was irritated by the assignments. But, when he complained to Ron about having to memorize the family tree of Edrich the Often, Ron had looked at him in shock, appalled that Harry didn’t already know this information.

When Harry complained that no one was making muggleborn students learn this information, Hermione pointed out that muggleborns weren’t expected to perform the duties reserved for heads of the oldest families. As the last in the Potter line, and heir to the Black fortune, Harry would have obligations that would not have been expected to be the lot of a muggleborn.

Grudgingly, Harry began to accept that perhaps Draco had a point, and wizarding children grew up knowing things that he had better learn. It came as a surprise to both Harry and Draco that the blond boy had an aptitude for teaching. He was a strict teacher, in the manner of Professor Snape. But, he was clever at explaining points in a way that Harry was able to recall.

Not surprisingly, Harry found many of his other subjects to be very boring. In recognition of his skill with certain classes (such as Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts), Dumbledore had suggested that Harry take the opportunity to learn about other subjects of interest to him. Taking that advice, Harry usually read quietly during a number of his classes, learning about goblins, mermaids, centaurs and elves. This independent study wasn’t for any grade, but at least he didn’t feel as if he were wasting his time.

Soon, the Christmas holidays approached. Harry put his name down on the list of students wishing to go to Hogsmeade. Professor Snape agreed that he could go, which was a relief because Harry had Christmas gifts to purchase.

Unfortunately, the day before the scheduled trip, Ron was given the news by Professor Vector, the astronomy professor, that he would need to hand in an extra credit paper if he hoped to receive a passing grade for this semester. Hermione agreed to stay behind and help him with the paper. Harry offered to stay and help too but Ron told him it wasn’t necessary.

“It’s not like you learned anything interesting about astronomy from You Know Who,” Ron lamented. Then, with a note of hope, he asked, “Or did you?”

Harry shook his head and smiled. It felt good to hear Ron refer to Harry’s “apprenticeship” with You Know Who so casually.

“You might as well go to Hogsmeade,” said Ron sadly. “I’m just sorry I’m not showing you the new broom store. I had wanted to be with you when you saw it for the first time!”

“Tell you what,” said Harry. “I’ll go visit Hagrid instead. I’ll leave the broom store for another day. Okay?”

“I don’t want to make you wait,” said Ron, but it was clear that he really would prefer Harry to wait.

“It’s okay. Really. I can go another time. The first time to the broom store will be with you.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” said Ron, looking happier.

Harry left to visit Hagrid and Ron and Hermione headed for the library where they spent the next hour pouring over astronomy books.

Suddenly, in a magnified voice that could be heard throughout the castle, they heard Dumbledore’s voice saying, “Harry Potter. Please report to Professor Snape’s office immediately. Harry Potter. Please report to Professor Snape’s office immediately.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged scared looks and bolted from the library, heading towards Snape’s office. Ron knocked on the closed door and was told to enter.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape were all standing in the room talking to each other and looking grave. They looked up as the teenagers entered and Dumbledore asked sharply, “Where’s Harry?”

“He went to visit Hagrid, sir,” said Hermione, in a scared voice.

“Dobby!” There was a sound of a loud pop and an elf immediately appeared. “Would you please go to Hagrid’s and ask Harry Potter to return to the castle immediately. Have him come here, please.”

“Dobby would be honored to fetch Harry Potter, sir!” said Dobby, bowing low. And, with another loud pop, the elf disappeared.

“What’s happened, sir?” asked Ron.

Looking very somber, Dumbledore explained, “Bellatrix Lestrange escaped from Azkaban this morning. She killed the Auror who was guarding her. She is armed with a wand and, I don’t need to tell you, extremely dangerous.”

“And you think that Harry’s in particular danger?” asked Hermione.

Snape said harshly, “Bellatrix was obsessed with the Dark Lord. It is highly likely that she will do everything in her power to wreak vengeance for his defeat.”

McGonagall continued, “She was seen heading north – in this direction.”

Another loud pop and Dobby returned. “Dobby is sorry, sir,” mourned the elf, bowing so low, his nose almost touched the floor. “Harry Potter was not there.”

“What?” demanded Ron. “What do you mean?”

“Hagrid told Dobby that Harry Potter did not come to visit him today.”

The tension in the room mounted higher. “Albus!” Snape took a step forward, an urgent note in his voice.

“We’ll find him, Severus,” calmed Dumbledore, but there was no familiar sparkle in his eyes.

“Dobby, please have the house elves look throughout the castle for Mr. Potter,” instructed Dumbledore.

“Yes, sir,” nodded Dobby and, again, he disappeared with a pop.

“I have a map, sir,” Ron suddenly remembered. “It’s actually Harry’s map. My brothers, Fred and George, gave it to him. But, when he (Mark Twist that is) went to Azkaban, and he left his possessions behind, I kept the map.”

Snape looked impatient with this long-winded explanation of the map’s history. Dumbledore waved for Ron to continue. Ron took a deep breath, “Anyway, this map shows everyone in the castle.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dumbledore. Snape looked interested now.

“It shows the location of everyone in the castle. I’ll show you.” Ron darted away and returned with the map in short order. He was gasping from having run through the castle.

He tapped the map with his wand and muttered, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Soon, the Marauders’ Map was laid out in all its glory showing little bubbles where everyone in the castle was.

“What an amazing map!” complimented Dumbledore.

Tapping his wand on the map, Dumbledore asked, “Where is Professor Snape?” The bubble showing Snape burned red and was clearly visible on the map. “Where is Argus Filch?” The bubble with Filch’s name burned red in its turn, showing the caretaker in one of the classrooms in the basement.

Clear that the map would work, Dumbledore touched it again and asked, “Where is Harry Potter?” No red bubble appeared. Everyone stared at the map in dismay.

“Let me try!” urged Snape. He repeated the tests that Dumbledore had tried, and the map showed where other people in the castle were at that moment. But, the map was stubbornly silent when it came to Harry Potter.

Hermione even suggested that they try the name “Mark Twist” but no luck either.

Dumbledore sent his magnified voice throughout the castle once more, asking students to report to the Great Hall. Once there, Dumbledore explained that Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped. Neville Longbottom turned pale but stood very straight.

“We’re asking for your help now,” continued Dumbledore. “We need to ensure that Harry Potter is safe but apparently he is not in the castle. We would ask that groups of students form search parties to find Harry. If you are willing, please form groups of four.”

Everyone in the room immediately clustered into groups of four. Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore assigned each group an area of the school grounds to cover.

Hagrid was sent to the Forbidden Forest to ask the Centaurs if they had seen Harry. Dumbledore went himself to the Dark Lake and asked the Merpeople the same.

The hours passed and the students returned without success. Dumbledore took the final report from Hagrid, who had just returned from the Forbidden Forest with no news from the Centaurs. Looking very worried, the headmaster rose from his chair. It was time to contact the Minister.

At that moment, there was a commotion at the door and the students who had spent the day in Hogsmeade returned to the Hall. They had not yet heard the news of Bellatrix’s escape or Harry Potter’s disappearance and they were all smiles and good cheer. Strolling among them, speaking with Seamus Finnegan, was Harry Potter himself.

The students in the Great Hall stared at Harry in surprise. They had just spent hours looking for the boy and here he was, just sauntering in as calmly as could be. There was a little roar from the staff table and everyone cast an anxious look at Professor Snape. The teacher had a frightening expression on his face.

In swift movements, the potions master had rounded the table and reached Harry’s side. Startled, Harry looked at the professor in alarm. The professor’s face was screwed up in fury. Grabbing the teen’s arms, Snape shook him furiously. “Where were you?! Where were you?!” he yelled.

“Severus!” The sharp voice called Snape back to himself.

Snape released Harry and stepped back, still shaking with anger. Dumbledore laid a calming hand on Snape’s forearm.

“Harry,” said Dumbledore in a quiet voice. “Where were you?”

The boy was dazed. He couldn’t understand how come Professor Snape had attacked him. Casting a nervous look at the professor, he said, “I’ve been in Hogsmeade.”

“Hogsmeade!” ejaculated Snape.

“You…you gave me permission, sir,” reminded Harry tentatively.

“But you said you weren’t going to go,” said Ron, unable to keep quiet.

Harry cast Ron a quick look but then looked back at Snape. He was afraid to take his eyes off the unpredictable man. “I was shopping for holiday gifts. I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t go into the broom store though!”

“You, sir, are grounded!” Snape spat out the words, teeth clenched.

“I…I don’t understand. Why?” asked Harry, completely confused.

“You may not have meant to do so, Harry, but I’m afraid you gave everyone quite a scare,” Dumbledore explained. “Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped and, we believe, may be looking for you. When we couldn’t find you in the castle or on the grounds, we were concerned that she might have harmed you already.”

Harry’s eyes blazed and his hands formed into fists at the mention of Bellatrix’s name.

Snape made a huge effort to regain control of his emotions. “You need not worry about Bellatrix, Potter. She is a problem for the Aurors. I suggest you concern yourself with the detention you will be serving tonight and every night this week!”

“Detention! For what?!”

“For leaving Hogwarts without my knowledge!”

“I told you I was going into Hogsmeade! This is so unfair!”

“Another word from you and it’ll be two weeks of detention!” Snape swept from the room, cape flaring behind him. He turned around at the exit and looked at Harry once more. “And, you’re still grounded!”