A/N: I know, I know, it took me incredibly long to get this chapter out, but so much has happened in the last month that I barely had time to write. I moved into my very first flat and I started at university and the beginning had been rather hectic. I can only hope that it gets better and that my stories won’t have to suffer (much).
Now, to answer your questions, I have no idea, how long this story will be, but there will still be plenty of chapters, I suppose. I’ve still got a lot planned for this story! And yes, you will find out soon, who Hermione’s secret admirer is.
But now, have fun with this chapter!
Chapter 20: Damage Control
Harry Potter wasn’t known to complain about hard physical labour, especially in his line of work, but when he got back to the castle on Sunday night, just in time for dinner, he wished that he could just skip the meal and head back to his room to get some well needed rest.
The previous two days had been extremely strenuous “ both physically and emotionally. Hogsmeade was almost completely ravaged and even with magic it would take a long time to rebuild this village. The death toll was high, higher than he had imagined and somehow Harry couldn’t help but think that this was partly his fault.
He hadn’t known of an attack on Hogsmeade, so what if their appearance in this time had provoked Voldemort to order this? This was the only reasonable answer he had been able to come up with, while he had been rummaging through the ruins, hoping to find any undetected survivors and helping clearing up the mess. Someone in his time surely would have told him, if Hogsmeade had been attacked during Voldemort’s first reign of terror, but they hadn’t, ergo the village hadn’t been attacked before. By going back in time, he and the others had unwillingly changed something and this change had had drastic and dramatic consequences.
After having come to this realization, Harry could only hope that Dumbledore was right with his theory about the different timelines. Otherwise he didn’t even want to know, what this attack might have caused to change in his own future.
The stares he had felt in his back the whole time hadn’t helped to relieve the growing guilt at all. As a matter of fact, they had only helped to intensify this feeling at least tenfold. Already the wildest rumours were being spread, ranging from Harry being a simple Death Eater to being Voldemort’s right hand man and heir. Who else would know Parseltongue than someone very close to You-Know-Who? Maybe they were even related? Brothers, he had heard at some point, as someone had brought up that young Tom Riddle and he looked somewhat alike.
Bloody marvellous mess you’ve got yourself into, Potter, Harry had berated himself repeatedly over the course of the weekend. To deal with this, Harry had done what he knew best “ he had retreated into his shell and not talked to anyone, not even his friends. Until now, he had avoided them as much as possible by having gotten up in the morning before them, then during the day trying to work far away from them in Hogsmeade and at night returning to his room long after they had turned in. He knew that they were worried, but they couldn’t help him. He had done this all by himself, so he also had to find a way out without help.
He just had to find a way, Harry thought somewhat crestfallen, as he crossed the Entrance Hall and noticed how the students shunned him. He had been one of their favourite professors and now they were afraid of him. This just wasn’t right.
Harry just wanted to open the door to the Great Hall, already hearing the sounds of clattering dishes, as he suddenly heard someone clearing his throat behind him. Turning around startled, Harry found himself face to face with the Headmaster.
“Albus,” he mumbled in greeting. He hadn’t seen him at all during the weekend, not even during the meals, after his speech to the students on Saturday at breakfast. He hadn’t thought much of his absence, believing it to be due to important business dealing with the attack, but now he began to wonder slightly.
“Harry, I’m glad that I met you…” Professor Dumbledore said with a light smile, as he looked at the young man through his half-moon spectacles. Harry raised his eyebrow at this, already expecting that their meeting hadn’t been an accident. “Would you please accompany me to my office? It’s important.”
With a heavy sigh, but at the same time glad that he didn’t need to face the student body yet, Harry nodded and followed the Headmaster through the corridors to his office. The stone gargoyle sprang aside, after Dumbledore had said the password (Apple Pie) and together they walked up the spiral staircase. Dumbledore was chatting amiably about one thing or another, but Harry didn’t listen to him and stopped dead in his tracks, when the door opened and he saw his parents with their little son sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
Harry froze, almost ready to take a step back, but swallowed hard, as Dumbledore stopped next to him and Lily and James Potter rose from their chairs, both with grim looks on their faces. He wasn’t ready for this! He hadn’t even thought about what he was going to tell them!
“Harry,” James only said, while Lily tried to offer him a small ensuring smile, when Dumbledore gave Harry a small push towards his parents. Somehow, it seemed, as if the rift that had been between Harry and his father at the beginning had returned, as if he had lost all of his father’s trust.
It hurt.
The three months old baby in Lily’s arms squealed, but otherwise a heavy silence was weighing upon them. Eventually, Dumbledore walked around them to his desk and sat down in his chair, while the three Potters were still simply staring at each other, not knowing what to say.
“Why don’t we sit down for this?” the Headmaster offered kindly and Harry finally managed to avert his father’s accusing and his mother’s confused eyes. Turning his head away, he sat down in one of the offered chairs, now staring at the ground. He heard how his parents also sat down and waited for Dumbledore to continue. It was an agonizing long wait and Harry could practically feel his parents’ gazes upon him.
What the bloody hell was he going to do now? What should he tell them? Dumbledore had advised him to tell his parents partly the truth. He needed to keep essential information out of it, like the Prophecy, or the exact time of the attack, or the fact that it had been the Killing Curse that had given him the scar and therewith transferred some of Voldemort’s abilities to him.
It would be extremely difficult. Somehow he doubted that his father, or his mother for that matter, would be satisfied with what would be left of this story.
“I believe you all know, why we’re here now,” Dumbledore suddenly said again, startling Harry out of his musings. “It’s about the happenings two nights ago, when the snake attacked and something was revealed that rather should have been kept a secret”“
“A secret!” James almost yelled, outraged, effectively cutting off the older wizard. “You said that it should be kept a secret that my son, if this man even is my son, has the ability of a dark wizard?”
Dumbledore sighed and Harry could almost believe he heard the weariness in his voice. He was right. His father didn’t trust him anymore. “I’m your son,” he mumbled, not giving Dumbledore the chance to answer. “Everything I told you about me is true. There are only some things that I didn’t tell you. And you knew this.” Harry hoped that this would appease his father a bit. Hadn’t James, not so long ago, told Harry that he didn’t need to worry about keeping things from them as long as they didn’t know what effect this information might have on this time?
It seemed as if James was about to explode again, hadn’t his wife put a calming hand on his forearm and shot him a warning glare with her blazing emerald eyes. “He’s right,” she simply said. “James, you told me yourself that there are some things that Harry didn’t tell us. You accepted this. I’m sure he has his reasons for not telling us about this.”
“And I hope he has damn good reasons… And that there is a damn good explanation for the reason why my son is a Parselmouth! There’s never before been a Potter, who was able to talk to snakes,” James growled, but apparently he wasn’t going to yell again, something Harry was rather grateful for.
He gave his mother a quick thankful smile, before he briefly locked eyes with the headmaster, as if asking if he should really do this, if he should really tell them. After Dumbledore nodded his head once at him, Harry took a deep breath. This certainly wasn’t going to be easy.
“You’re right,” Harry said to his father, hoping that this might somewhat soften the blow. “There has never been a Potter, who has been born with the ability to talk to snakes. I can thank dear old Voldemort for being able to do this.”
“Why?” Lily asked, looking slightly worried.
Reaching up, Harry parted the bangs on his forehead to reveal his famous lightning bolt shaped scar. “This is a curse scar,” he explained. “It’s actually quite simple. Voldemort attacked me and gave me this scar. However, by doing this, he also transferred some of his abilities to me, like Parseltongue.”
Harry watched a bit guiltily, how Lily’s hand flew to her mouth, when he had mentioned Voldemort’s attack, and the widening of James’ eyes at the same moment. He knew, he had really only given them the short version of this, but he wasn’t sure, if he could tell them more. He only hoped that they wouldn’t ask further questions. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side, when James uttered only one word. “When?”
Shaking his head, Harry replied, “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” his father prodded, sounding somewhat desperate. Harry could only understand him too well. If it had been him, who had gotten this news, he probably would have reacted the same way. “Is it going to happen soon? What curse did he use? How did you escape?”
“I can’t answer those questions,” he mumbled, avoiding their worried gazes. “Maybe someday, when we are sure what effects our appearance in this time has, if it somehow affects my time as well, I can tell you. But not now and not here. I just want you to know that I’m no dark wizard and certainly no Death Eater. I discovered that I’m a Parselmouth by accident and it already caused me a lot of problems in my time.”
“Does Voldemort know about this?” Lily wanted to know, unconsciously clutching her baby a bit tighter and holding the boy closer to her body, as if she feared that Voldemort might attack at any moment.
Harry saw the fierce protectiveness of a mother in her eyes and he was glad that his mother was so passionate about this and really loved him enough to defend him with her own life “ otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting here.
In less than one year…
Blinking a couple of times to get rid of this thought, Harry finally replied, “The Voldemort in my time knows that I’m a Parselmouth and also that he’s responsible for this. As of now, the Voldemort in this time only knows that I’m a Parselmouth, courtesy of a message I asked the snake to deliver. He doesn’t know yet that he will attack your son someday and transfer some of his powers to him. All I know, it couldn’t happen at all in this time. It depends on how much we’ve changed already.”
Silence fell over them after this and Harry noticed that James appeared to be contemplating something. His father’s eyes were resting on him, making him slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t show it. If he showed any weaknesses now, it might harm his credibility. He believed that at least his mother trusted him again, but he wasn’t so sure about his father. He was probably more inclined to listen to Sirius, who, Harry was completely sure about this, mistrusted him now more than ever.
“May I ask another question?” James finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence upon them. At Harry’s nod, he continued, “You talked about abilityes, meaning you’ve got more than one from Voldemort. What are the others?”
Harry grinned slightly, as he waved his hand and the bowl with Sherbet Lemons on Dumbledore’s desk began to float. “I’ve got a knack for wandless magic, though it’s a bit draining, if I perform difficult or long lasting spells.” Without saying anything, the bowl softly dropped back to the desk and Harry began to think. “Also, some people say that my magic in general is more powerful than the magic of an average wizard, though I still doubt this somehow. Oh, and before I forget…” He willed his wand into his hand and held it up, so that all of them could see it. “The core of this wand is a phoenix feather and Ollivander told me that the phoenix gave just one more feather for a wand and guess whose wand it is.”
Both James and Lily gasped in surprise, while Dumbledore was only gazing at the tiny wrinkled newborn bird beneath the phoenix’s perch behind them. “I see…” the headmaster mumbled with a slight smile and Harry noticed that, while Frank Longbottom had told Dumbledore that the core of Harry’s wand was a phoenix feather, he hadn’t had the chance to tell him which phoenix had given this feather. Only too late did Harry realize that telling them the part about his wand had been the most obvious way to deduce that Harry had been attacked as a child.
“B-but…” Lily stuttered. “Voldemort attacked you before you went to Hogwarts? How did you survive?”
“I”“ Harry was at a loss of words. He looked to the headmaster, but he was offering no help. He was now completely alone. Should he tell them or not? “It was l-luck,” he said eventually. “I’ve been lucky and was able to escape and I had loads of help.” At least this wasn’t a complete lie. Harry had usually been lucky, when he had faced Voldemort, and without Ron and Hermione he wouldn’t have come far during their adventures at Hogwarts. His luck and his friends had helped him to survive so often by now that he didn’t want to miss them anymore, no matter how much he wanted to protect them. They had once only told him all too bluntly that they would be there for him and fight at his side until the end.
“I see,” James mumbled, although Harry thought that his father didn’t look convinced. However, as long as he didn’t ask any further questions and understood that there were things that Harry didn’t want to and couldn’t talk about yet, it didn’t matter if James bought his story or not.
Suddenly, Dumbledore clapped his hands once and got up from his chair with a bright smile on his face. “Well then, I believe that now, after this rather enlightening talk, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. This previous weekend had been rather stressful and classes start again tomorrow. If you’re quick, you might still get some dinner, Harry, otherwise I believe James could show you to the kitchens, if you don’t know already, where they are.”
Harry flashed him a grateful smile, glad that this conversation seemed to be over now. He rose from his chair, at the same time as his parents and together they left the office, with a mumbled goodnight to the headmaster, but otherwise in complete silence.
Their footsteps echoed through the deserted stone hallways of Hogwarts. Harry was walking slightly ahead of his parents, with his hands pushed into his pockets. He felt somewhat relieved, but still, it was kind of awkward to be alone with his parents now. There were still so many things that they didn’t know, so many things that he wanted to tell them but couldn’t.
Bloody prophecy!
Once they reached the Entrance Hall, Harry turned around with a silent sigh, as he was pretty sure that his parents wanted to leave now. “So, I’ll see you around, I guess…” he mumbled, not really eager to meet their gazes.
“Actually…” Harry looked up and saw that Lily was smiling at him warmly. “I believe James told you about the invitation to dinner. Well, you and your friends, you’re still welcome to come by.”
Offering her a small smile, he replied, “Thank you… I’ll get back to you.” And then, after having taking a look around to make sure that they were completely alone, he added, “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry you had to find out this way. If I could tell you more, I promise, I would do it. But circumstances”“
“Don’t allow it,” James agreed thoughtfully. “We know and I’m sorry that I didn’t have more trust in you.” Suddenly, a slight grin spread over his face, as he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Well then, Harry, you should go and get some dinner. I don’t want my son to starve to death. Or do you want me to show you to the kitchens?”
There was a mischievous glint in James’ hazel eyes and Harry couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “No, thanks, but I believe this won’t be necessary. You seem to forget that I’m the son of a Marauder. I know my way around Hogwarts.”
Harry could swear that he heard his mother mumble something like ‘Honestly’ under her breath and his face broke into a grin. It truly was no wonder that she and Hermione hit it off immediately. They were just so much alike, though, as far as he had noticed until now, his mother’s temper was worse than Hermione’s and if he looked closely, he also saw some mischievousness in her eyes, reminding him very much of another redhead.
“James, I think we should go now. It’s getting late and little Harry still needs to eat before he has to go to bed,” Lily said.
“You’re right, honey,” James agreed, smiling lovingly down at the boy in her arms, who just opened his mouth for a large yawn.
Harry watched this fondly, though he also felt some jealousy welling up. He knew it wasn’t fair to envy this baby, especially since it was his other self. This boy should have his parents and enjoy his time with them as long as possible, because one year from now, he would suffer the same fate as his older counterpart.
“Remember the invitation,” Lily reminded him with a wink.
“Don’t worry,” Harry replied with a smile. “I’ll talk to my friends and then I’ll owl you.”
After a quick goodbye, Harry watched them leave the castle, before he also turned to go to his quarters. He wasn’t hungry anymore and just wanted to go to bed. Tomorrow was a new day and he had to brave the fear and anger of his students. But now, he thought, after the talk with his parents, he hoped that it would be easier to face them and he wouldn’t forget his father’s parting words.
Keep your pecker up!
~*~
When Harry strode through the Great Hall the next morning, he did this with his head held high and a confidence in his steps that hadn’t been there the days before. He wouldn’t let this situation get him down. He was here at Hogwarts to teach and he knew that he was good at it. As long as he taught this students something and helped them to prepare for the war outside the secure walls of Hogwarts it didn’t matter, if they liked him or not.
But still, he wouldn’t give his students up without a fight!
He stopped in front of Dumbledore and conversed with him quietly for a few moments, before the headmaster nodded and got up from his chair. Dumbledore clapped and immediately got the attention of everyone in the Great Hall. “Professor Potter would like to say something,” he only said, before he sat down again and motioned for Harry to start.
After having quietly cleared his throat once, Harry said loudly, “I believe you all know what I want to talk about, seeing as you’ve either been present at the attack on the Great Hall or read it in the Prophet. To answer some of your questions, yes, I’m a Parselmouth, meaning I can talk to snakes, but no, I’m neither a supporter of Voldemort nor a dark wizard. While it is true that there have been some dark wizards and witches who knew Parseltongue, it isn’t true that all Parselmouths are essentially evil. Just like not all Slytherins are evil and all Gryffindors are good. Just like not all pureblood wizards are exceptionally good and muggle-borns are bad at magic. I know exceptions to all of those prejudices. Just believe me that I’m an exception to the Parselmouth prejudice. Believe me that I would never, never, support Voldemort. He and his followers killed people that I cared about, so don’t believe for a second that would want to kiss the hem of his robes. Quite the contrary, actually. If I ever get the chance, I’m going to make that bastard pay for everything he has done!”
Harry noticed that he had gotten slightly out of breath, as his speech had gotten more and more passionate towards the end, but he didn’t care. He only hoped that he had been successful with his message.
“Thank you,” he just mumbled, before walking around the staff table to his seat.
Harry knew that Ron and Hermione were staring at him in awe, but none of them said anything. Neither did anyone else in the Great Hall for several seconds, until he suddenly heard someone clapping. He looked up and around and his gaze landed on the Ravenclaw table, on Benjamin Linford from fourth year to be precise. The mousy boy was the only one standing and clapping so loud that it echoed in the whole class. Then another joined him and Harry was glad to see that it was Bill Weasley, closely followed by his brother Charlie. Slowly, one by one, students got up from the benches and started to applaud.
In the end, it was about half of the student body, that was showing him their support, even some from Slytherin House, and Harry almost fell from his chair, when he felt a hearty clap on his back. “Well done, mate,” Ron said grinning.
Hermione hugged him tightly, also grinning brightly and even Draco, who, Harry noticed relieved, was finally allowed to show himself in public and work again after having cured his flu with a lot of rest, said, “Nice speech, Potter. I hope this got at least some of them off our backs.”
It took some minutes and some warning words from Dumbledore until the students calmed down again and turned their attention back to breakfast, though the headmaster had winked at him, while his friends had been congratulating him. Harry gave him a grateful smile, because, even though he was glad that so many students were still or again trusting him, all the attention had been slightly embarrassing.
Fortunately the owls began to sweep down through the windows at the same moment as the students started to calm down, so most of their attention was now drawn to their letters and packages. Harry started, when once again one of the owls landed directly in front of Hermione with a small package and a note. Harry looked over to her, as she unfolded it and read,
I believe you lost this.
It was the handwriting of her secret admirer.
Immediately, she put the note aside and a huge smile spread over her face, as she unwrapped the package and saw the golden necklace from her secret admirer. Though also being slightly suspicious, Harry was happy to see her smile like this. But now that he saw the necklace, he remembered that Hermione hadn’t told them who her secret admirer was. He just wanted to ask that question, but Ron beat him to it, before he could even open his mouth.
“I-I can’t say…” Hermione said, lowering her head slightly, but Harry could still see there was still a smile and also a reddish tint on her cheeks. “He-he asked me not to tell anyone, yet.”
“But you know who it is?” Harry wanted to know. He would be worried for Hermione, if she still didn’t know his identity. After all, if he believed Ron, they had kissed.
Still smiling and fondly running her fingers over the ruby in the necklace, Hermione simply replied, “I know.”
Harry was somewhat relieved, but still one thing irked him.
Who the bloody hell was it?