Chapter 5
Boy trudged to the Great Hall as soon as the doors opened, like every morning, at seven am. He was only beaten by professors Sprout and Flitwick. The Hall was otherwise empty. He didn't care. He just wanted to stay awake. The bone-deep ache was uncomfortable, but only made his need to lie down all the more persistent. Sunday's were supposed to be lazy.
"Mr. Potter."
Boy jumped, spilling his tea. "Sorry, Professor Flitwick," he said, vanishing the mess. "How are you this morning?"
"A sight better than yourself, I'd wager." He winked. "I thought I would let you know that the Headmaster doesn't join us for breakfast on Sundays."
It took Boy a second to figure out what the man was saying. His eyes widened. "Thank you for letting me know, sir."
The professor wished him a good day and went back to the staff table.
Boy's new friends took forever to show up. It was a little after eight when he finally saw them come in.
Now that there were more people about, Boy easily slipped over to the Ravenclaw table. He quickly explained what the charms professor said, and they gave him hugs and ruffled hair for his troubles.
Penny eyed him up. "You look awful."
"Gee, thanks. It's lovely to see you too." He snapped, then sighed. "Sorry."
"What time did you finally get to sleep?" Amelia asked, concern lacing her tone.
"I'll let you know." He deadpanned, tugging the teapot closer.
"Poor thing," Olive said, tugging him close to cuddle. "You just sit here and snuggle up with me till you have to get up."
"M'kay," he yawned cutely. "But I'm not a teddy."
There were a few giggles.
"Nope," Olive confirmed, running her fingers through his hair. "You're a little kitten."
Boy pouted, but made no move to escape her cuddles. "'M not a kitten."
Olive began scratching his scalp gently and Boy turned to goo.
"Oh," Amelia said seriously. "Definitely not a little kitten. Only big, ferocious beasts act like that with head scratchies."
"Yup." Penny agreed, just as teasing. "That's him alright! Big scary panther. Hands down. I'm terrified just being near him."
Boy stuck his tongue out at them.
"Even panthers start out as kittens." Olive pointed out, never slowing her ministrations. "Cute, fluffy little kittens."
Sighing, Boy rolled his eyes. Penny alone was bad enough with all of the cutseyness, but all of them together? He sighed again.
"How'd you get so good at this, Buh-Harry?" Amelia asked, flipping absently through a copy of Witch Weekly.
Boy tightened the twist he was working on before answering. "I used to keep my hair long and I liked playing with it. It was really long, but it was cut for school. I miss it."
"How long was it?" She asked. "I can't quite picture it."
He tapped his knee, as he held a few pins in his teeth.
"It was not down to your knees!" She gasped in disbelief.
"Mmhmm," he hummed, not wanting to accidentally drop the pins.
For the next half hour, Boy continued to twist and pin Amelia's hair before moving on to her makeup. That, he was obviously less familiar with, but some of the books in Sir and Ma'am's library had pictures of lots of different kinds of people from all sorts of cultures. He had been fascinated by differences based on their nationalities.
For Amelia, he used various shades of golds and browns. He didn't want to make her look silly, so he kept her makeup to a minimum.
When he was finished, he stuck a teeny tiny star high on her cheekbone, just under her right eye.
"All done," he said, smiling as he gave an exaggerated bow.
He let Penny and Olive back in the dorm and waited for their opinions.
"Penelope," Amelia called out from her side of the room. "Give Kitten a kiss for me! I'm not ruining my lipstick until the end of my date!"
Boy wasn't sure what she meant, but let Penny kiss his cheeks either way. There wouldn't have been a way to escape them anyway.
"So, who's the mystery date?" Olive prompted.
Amelia mumbled something incoherent, and was elbowed encouragingly by Penny.
"Fine! It's Freya Larsson!"
"The sixth year Hufflepuff prefect?" Boy asked, recalling the name. "She's pretty."
Amelia beamed.
"Look at you," Olive smirked. "Dating older women. Who'd have thought Freya was a cougar?"
The girls burst out laughing, but Boy had no idea what they were talking about.
"I hardly think one year gives you the right to call her that." Amelia snorted.
They began talking about more and more things he didn't understand, so he decided to give them some privacy.
Boy knew the practice schedules of all four teams, and there were none on the roster for today. He wanted to go flying without being a bludger target.
It was nice of madam Hooch to keep the broom shed unlocked over the weekends. He was in the air for a little while, flying in lazy circles and figure eights, when he heard his name being called.
From such a distance, Boy couldn't see who had called out, so he picked up speed to get to the three figures at the other end of the pitch. It was Professor McGonagall, along with Jamie and Sir.
As his broom sank, so did his heart. Why was Sir at the school? Had he done something wrong? Did someone tell the Headmaster that he'd sat with the Ravens? Was he being suspended for not following the rules?
He didn't want to leave!
Nervously, Boy slid off his broom and approached the trio. "Hello, everyone." He said meekly.
"I'll leave you to it," Professor McGonagall said with a stern nod.
Sir waited in silence for a moment before rounding on Boy. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Having a bunch of goddamed Ravenclaw girls writing me to sign permission slips for you to go to the fucking village?"
Boy's eyes widened. They wrote to Sir?! Why? He shook his head vehemently. "Sir, I didn't-"
CRACK!
Boy fell to the ground, his head swimming. He skittered away from Sir, terrified of being struck again. They were in public! That should have protected him! Sir had been very clear on public behavior, and this certainly wasn't part of it.
"Did I give you permission to speak, Boy?" Sir demanded venomously, closing the gap between them in a few brisk steps.
Boy shook his head again, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the ground. He distinctly heard Jamie laughing with Sir, though he didn't dare look up.
"Stand up, you filthy little bastard!"
Boy stood, wondering why no one was coming to his aid. Sir was yelling so loudly that someone had to hear it. Why was no one helping?
CRACK! CRACK!
Boy landed heavily on his wrist and Jamie asked if he could try. There was a large, glowing spider web of magic around them, just like the ones in the library at the manor.
"Alright, kiddo." Sir said warmly. "But you have to make sure you tell Professor McGonagall that the fucking freak decided to hang out with some of the Slytherins when I say goodbye to her. Can you do that, Champ?"
"'Course I can, dad." Jamie said happily.
The next thing he knew, Boy was choking on water. He rolled onto his side, vomiting. It was pouring rain and it was totally dark out. The only light came from the moon, which did little good. It was just barely light enough to see his shallow breath clouds.
He was completely drenched and freezing. With what precious energy he was able to muster, he dragged himself toward the cover of the stands. There was no telling how long it took to make the short distance, but Boy blacked out twice on the way.
In the end, he was only half covered by the stands, but lost consciousness before he could get the rest of the way under.
Boy's legs twisted and he whimpered.
"What the hell?" He heard someone ask over the heavy rain. There was a shocked cry and dim light poured into the covered space.
His disorientation did nothing to stop the person from trying to roll him over. He let out a cry as his weight was shifted to his shoulder.
Everything went white.
Blinking, Boy forced his eyes to stay open. He was surrounded by light cream curtains. How did he get back to the castle? Did Sir come back? Did Jamie? He doubted it, but nothing else made sense. Wait, why were they on the pitch in the first place?
He heard thunder in the distance and tugged the covers higher. That was when he noticed the sling. Why was he wearing a sling? There was also a brace inside it, immobilizing his wrist. What on earth happened?
"Finally awake, I see?" The mediwitch asked, flinging the curtain open.
"Yes, ma'am," he rasped weakly. His throat hurt.
"Good." She nodded. "Then would you mind telling me what in Merlin's name you were doing, flying in the middle of a thunderstorm?"
"What?" He asked. "No, I-" Rough, hacking coughs cut him off.
Taking a few slow breaths, Boy found himself dozing off.
"So, keep the brat here." Professor Snape was saying.
Boy's eyes fluttered open.
"I plan to!" Madam Pomfrey replied. "All I wanted to know was if you'd heard anything! Jamie told Minerva that Potter was staying on the pitch with the Slytherins instead of walking his father out."
"You didn't honestly expect a Potter to have any semblance of proper respect, did you?"
Boy's heart sank. Why did Professor Snape hate him so much? He had never been anything less than respectful to the dour man, but he was still met with stinging comments about anything and everything. Why?
"Oh, stop it, Severus," she said wearily. "Did you question the Slytherins about this mess?"
Boy could practically hear his sneer. "Of course I did." The man spat. "None of them saw a thing. Aside from that, their locations at the time are all accounted for."
"Then why wasn't his absence reported?" The matron asked. "He'd been out there since sometime yesterday afternoon."
"It is likely that his dormmates didn't report the absence due to the fact that Potter comes and goes as he pleases." Snape scoffed. "Surely you don't expect a Potter to abide by the rules set in place centuries before his birth? Really, Poppy. You knew the boy's father as well as anyone during his time here. The precious Boy-Who-Lived is exactly the same. I don't understand how willfully ignorant you and the rest of the staff remain in regards to the entire family. Disrespectful liars, it is all they are, and all they will ever be."
They continued to talk, but Boy shut them out. Could it really be the truth? Nearly everyone he'd met seemed to hate Sir and Jamie. Granted, he hadn't actually met many people, but even the few who liked him didn't like the Potter family. They were supposed to be icons, weren't they? The ultimate 'good guys'. It doesn't make sense.
Eventually the potions Master left and a few minutes later, his curtains were pulled aside.
His eyes snapped shut the second he saw Madam Pomfrey's shadow on the fabric.
When she tutted and closed the curtain, he cast a tempus. Classes were nearly finished for the day. He groaned inwardly, just knowing that he was going to be questioned. What was he supposed to say? 'Sir got mad and beat me senseless because my friends were trying to be helpful?' He didn't see that going over very well.
He spent the next half hour running through dozens of excuses and stories, but they all sounded false.
The huge wooden doors creaked lightly and quick footsteps followed. He cringed. This was it.
"Harry!" Penny's tone was panicked as she looked at him. "What happened?"
Before he could say anything, Olive and Amelia squeezed their way into his curtain cave.
"Well?!" Olive urged. "You didn't show up for breakfast or classes! We were terrified!"
"What do you have to say for yourself, mister?" Amelia demanded, her anger not reaching her eyes. "When you'd missed dinner last night, we figured you just went to get some sleep. Then… you just didn't show up this morning. Some people are saying that Madam Hooch found you outside! It's been raining non-stop since yesterday!"
Well, that explains why I keep coughing, Boy thought miserably.
"I'm not entirely sure what happened," he said truthfully. He didn't know. Why had no one heard Sir shouting those awful things at him? Why had no one seen anything? Why had he shown up in the first place? Surely Sir knew that Boy would have eventually been found. Why risk it? He just couldn't understand it.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Olive asked sympathetically, patting his uninjured hand.
"Flying," he said. "Professor McGonagall called me down and then S-father told me about some Ravenclaw girls writing to him. He left, I can't… I don't know what happened after."
Penny frowned. "But you're okay, right?"
Boy shrugged, coughing. He hurt all over and his chest felt tight. It was fine. He'd dealt with much worse than that. Besides, it wasn't so bad as long as he stayed completely still.
"Is that truly all you can remember, Mr. Potter?"
They all jumped at the sound of the Headmaster's voice.
Boy winced as his arm and leg were jostled. "Yes, sir." He gasped out.
The man eyed him with scarcely concealed suspicion.
Boy lowered his gaze in submission, wanting to fiddle with his hands, but forced himself not to. Sir hated when he fiddled or twitched. He knew the consequences.
"Very well," the Headmaster said coolly. "I'm sure you'll see your… friends in class tomorrow. Off you go."
Grumpily, the girls left, but not until they made sure he knew they'd be back.
It was nice to have friends. Even if he did have to lie to them.
Boy wasn't released until Thursday, and despite their vehement promises, he had received no further visits. It hurt.
Gathering a determined visage, he limped down to the dungeons alone. His right leg had been dislocated and some muscle had torn, but he had been adamant about leaving. Besides, his injuries had all healed… except for his leg.
Madam Pomfrey didn't think his limp would be permanent, but said she couldn't be one hundred percent sure. She had given him a walking stick with instructions to return every weekend until he no longer needed it.
Boy didn't care. He was just happy to leave in spite of liking the bed. That was going to be missed.
He stopped by the transfiguration classroom to pick up his classwork for the week. Professor McGonagall handed him a list and sent him on his way.
Professor Flitwick beamed at him when he knocked on the open door.
"Mr. Potter!" He called out happily. "Come have a seat!"
Giving the short man his own genuine smile, he made his way (so slow!) down the levels of seating. He was half exhausted by the time he got to the front of the room and dropped into a seat gratefully.
"Hello, sir," he said, hoping his slightly labored breathing went unnoticed.
"How are you feeling, Harry?" He asked sadly. "Madam Pomfrey told us about your injuries."
Boy just shrugged. "I'll be fine, sir."
The professor didn't appear to believe him, but let it go regardless. "So, what can I do for you this fine day?"
Boy smiled. Professor Flitwick was easily his favorite teacher. "Just picking up my missed assignments, sir."
"Tea?"
He blinked. "Er, sure…? I mean, yes sir. Thank you."
The professor chuckled, summoning an elf for tea. He even asked Boy how he took it!
"Plain, sir," he replied meekly, still not used to sweets. Who was he kidding? He wasn't really used to anything yet.
They chatted about nothing in particular until the professor let out a shocked gasp. "It's already time for dinner!"
That surprised Boy as well. He hadn't realized he'd been there for over two hours! Oops. "I'm sorry to have taken so much of your time, sir!" He probably had a lot of his own work to get on with, and Boy was wasting what precious little time the man did have. Stupid stupid!
"Not at all!" He grinned. "I quite enjoy your company."
"Thank you, sir." Boy said quickly. "I enjoy yours as well."
"Alright, off you trot!"
"I'll see you tomorrow, sir." He waved before letting himself out.
By the time he reached the Great Hall, dinner had been going on for a while. He snuck in as best as he could, heading straight for the empty area of the Slytherin table. No one ever wanted to sit there, so he did. According to the Slytherin hierarchy, that was the lowest ranking spot in the house.
He didn't care. It simply meant that he never had to look for a place to sit and that no one would ever take his spot.
As usual, he was totally ignored. It suited him just fine. He took a shrunken book out of his pocket and enlarged it to read while he ate.
As he became absorbed in his book, the rest of the noise faded to a constant hum.
When the noise dissipated, he looked up to find that everyone had gone, barring a few stragglers.
"Hey," Penny said, sitting across from him.
He nodded, sure that if he opened his mouth, he'd start crying. They broke their promises. They hadn't come back. Four days. At least one of them should have had a few spare minutes to say 'hi' in four days.
Maybe having friends wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
He could cry in his cupboard, not out here. Putting one hand on the table and the other on his walking stick, he pushed himself to stand. Hiding his grimace as flames licked up his leg, he left the Hall.
Thankfully it was Thursday, so everyone had to get to bed at a reasonable time. At least he wouldn't be kept up all night again. That had not been an experience he wanted to repeat.
It took some effort, but he was eventually able to get down to the floor and curl up to go to sleep.
The next morning, he got up an additional twenty minutes early. He was glad for that idea when he had to get off the floor. It took a lot longer than usual to get ready. He had to leave the dungeons a few minutes after six to avoid accidentally running into one of his housemates by himself, especially since he was moving so slowly. He'd never be able to outrun them now.
Reaching the first floor, Boy was worn out. Why were the Slytherin dorms so far down?
"Hey, Harry!" Olive called out as he leaned on the wall to catch his breath.
"Hey," he replied dully. Why had they lied? It would have been fine if they hadn't promised to come back to the infirmary, but they had.
"Been hiding all this time?" She asked, skipping over to him.
"What?" What was she talking about?
"The Headmaster said you were released days ago, but no one has seen you!" She hugged him tightly, knocking his walking stick to the ground with a clatter.
He pointed his 'wand' at the stick and summoned it, unable to pick it up normally.
"Kitten, what…?"
He sighed. "The Headmaster was mistaken. I wasn't released until yesterday as there was a fair amount of damage."
She hugged him again. "We had no idea, I swear!"
Breathing a sigh of relief, he returned the hug. "After you said you'd all visit, and never showed up, I- I-"
Pulling back, she looked him over. "Come on, Kitten. Let's go see Penelope and Amelia. At least now we know why you didn't want to talk to Penelope last night! She was a bit put out over it."
He groaned, ignoring the clicks of his walking stick. "I never gave her a chance to-"
"It's okay, Kitten." She assured him, kissing the top of his head.
"How do I keep getting stuck with nicknames?" He whined halfheartedly, not really minding at all.
"Just lucky, I suppose," she said, smirking.
He rolled his eyes. "Since I'm so lucky, does that mean you have a list of things I missed this week? I've already seen Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, but none of the others yet."
She hummed for a moment. "I can't help with runes or potions, but I've got the rest!"
"Why weren't you in potions?" He asked, gingerly taking his seat.
She sat at the same end of the Ravenclaw table to be able to talk to him. "Bloody career counseling this week."
His brows rose in surprise at her attitude. "What's wrong with that?"
"Not knowing what I want to do!" She blurted. "It was horrible! I felt so stupid! Who doesn't know what they want to do for the rest of their life?"
"I don't." Boy said simply.
"Yeah," she said. "That's because you're eleven!"
"So? We're in the same year. We're going to graduate at the same time."
"Oh, Merlin, you're right! What are you going to tell Snape?"
His brow knit. "Professor Snape? What do you mean?"
"Our counseling is done one on one with our Heads of House. You'll have to speak with Professor Snape about your career options."
Crinkling his nose, Boy poured himself a cup of tea. He tried it for the first time about three weeks ago, immediately falling in love. "I don't know, Olive. Like you said, I'm only eleven, but I'll be done with school soon too!" He let his head drop to the table. "What do I do?"
"Pray!" Amelia said, finally showing up. "I definitely don't envy you, Kitten."
"Me neither," he pouted. "Hey, where's Penny?"
Amelia scoffed. "Gee thanks. Missed you too."
He stuck his tongue out at her, sinking into his tea. "I didn't hurt your feelings over a misunderstanding, did I?"
She looked confused. "Not that I know of…?"
"We can't be mad at Kitten, 'Melia. He's still hurt." Olive pointed out.
"Pomfrey wouldn't let him go if he was still injured."
"She would if she couldn't fix it," he said sadly.
"What?!" They both shouted, attracting the attention of the students and staff that were there early.
"She…" he cleared his throat. "She said she hopes it isn't permanent."
"You didn't tell me that before!" Olive said desperately. "I was wrong. You have horrible luck."
"Organization be damned." Amelia said firmly, getting up. She walked over to the Slytherin table and picked up his tea. "Sit over here. I double checked and there is no reason for the Headmaster to keep you from sitting with us."
He rose carefully. Why was he intentionally going against what the Headmaster said? "I'm going to be in trouble for this."
"No you won't." Amelia said, putting toast on his plate. "I'll tell him the truth. I stole your tea and made you come with me, then educate him on the student handbook."
"Great idea," he replied sarcastically. "Then you'll get into trouble."
"I will not. Oh, look! Penelope's finally here."
Boy glanced up. "I'm sorry!" He blurted upon seeing his first friend.
Olive and Amelia just laughed, while Penny took a moment.
“It’s fine, Buh-Harry.” She replied. “What had you upset?”
When he quickly rehashed the details of the past few days, she was furious. Throughout the entire meal, she was cursing the ‘unknown student’ that injured him in the first place, right along with Madam Pomfrey! She kept him wrapped up in one arm the whole time, as if daring someone to speak out. Ironically, no one did, though they did note that Dumbledore was absent.
Boy didn’t mind her fawning. In fact, after eating his small meal, he rested his head on her shoulder and started dozing right there at the table.
When he felt his arm being gently shaken, he blinked blearily. He was comfy and didn’t want to move. It was then that he realized that his head had slipped from Penny’s shoulder and was now resting on her chest. He blushed brightly, sitting up.
After Amelia ribbed him for ‘copping his first feel’ so young, he began the trek down to the Slytherin common room. By the time he’d gotten down to the correct corridor, he was alone, having been moving so much slower than the rest of his housemates.
“Black furred human!”
Boy whipped around to find the corridor just as empty as he thought. It wasn’t a person though. It was the portrait with the snakes. “Hi,” he whispered.
The black snake, Lathassa, rose on its coil. “Young speaker!”
“You have returned to speak with us!” The other snake said happily.
“How are you?” He asked politely.
“We have been bored, young master!” The albino snake wailed dramatically. “We have been waiting fifty years for another speaker!”
“Forgive Ashthessa, young speaker,” Lathassa said, head bowed and shaking slightly. “She was painted as a young snake, just out of hatchling-hood.”
“Is she your hatchling, then?” This was certainly strange.
“No, young speaker.” Lathassa said calmly. “We do not match. She is an albino python, while I am a magical breed, similar to the black mamba.”
Oops. “I apologize. I don’t know much about snakes.”
Red eyes peered down at him. “You look unwell.”
“I’m okay,” he said. “Just tired.”
“Then you should sleep.”
Boy barely avoided rolling his eyes at the albino snake. “I was on my way to do just that.”
“Go to your nest, young speaker.” Lathassa said calmly. “We will speak with you when you are more well rested.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling a bit awkward under their scrutiny. “I suppose I’ll see you later.”
“Bye!” Ashthassa called as he limped away.