Chapter Text
“The Stone-” Harry began.
“Is perfectly safe,” Dumbledore finished easily.
Blinking at him, Harry tried again. “And Professor Quirrell?”
Blue eyes regarded him serenely over half-moon spectacles. “Is no longer a threat to anyone.”
Harry gulped. Quirrell was dead by his hands. It was a strange thought, but not one that helped him at the moment. Instead he met the Headmaster’s gaze. “And Draco and Pansy?”
“Are eagerly awaiting you to rejoin them.” Dumbledore finished cheerfully. He smiled at Harry, and waved at the bedside table, which was stacked with candy. Harry hadn’t noticed at all. “It appears that they are not the only ones. It might interest you to know that Misters Fred and George Weasley got you a toilet seat, but it had to be confiscated for hygienic reasons.”
A smile crossed Harry’s face at that, but his expression quickly became serious. “And what will happen to the Stone now?”
Dumbledore’s face became serious as well. “It has been destroyed. I talked to my friend Nicolas Flamel, and we agreed that it was simply too big of a risk.”
The implications of that were quick to sink in. “But, doesn’t that mean-?”
“Yes, dear boy, he and his wife will soon pass away. Do not fret about it. They have made their peace with it, and have plenty of Elixir to get their affairs in order.”
“How was I able to get it in the first place?” He asked.
The Headmaster looked pleased with himself. “A clever bit of magic, if I do say so myself. You see, only a person who wanted the Stone but not use it would be given it. That’s why we used the mirror, you see. If they wanted it for money or immortality, they would see themself using the stone, and thus would not be able to get it. One of my more brilliant ideas, and if I may say so, that is saying something.”
For a moment there was silence, as Harry tried to figure out how to phrase his next query. He played with the top of his blanket for a moment, before a sigh came from the other bed. “Mr. Potter wishes to know about how he was able to affect Quirrell in such a way. A question I must admit I am also curious about.” Snape eyed Harry. “Next year we will have to work on being more subtle, I think.” Harry blushed again, and then coloured harder when he realized that he’d just proven the man’s point.
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “That is a question I’m afraid I do not have a clear answer for, though I do have an educated guess.” He regarded Harry. “On the night of your parents’ death, Harry, Lord Voldemort gave your mother a choice.” On the other bed, Snape had gone very still and quiet, and Harry resisted the urge to look at him. “He allowed her the chance to escape with her life, if she would only leave you to die. But she did not, instead offering her life in exchange for yours. When Voldemort killer her, and then turned his wand onto you, it created a powerful protection. That is why Quirrell could not touch you.”
There was a long moment of silence, during which Harry’s emotions battled. One part of him was clinging to this new knowledge of his parents with the desperation of a starving man. Another part wanted to run over and cover his professor’s ears. It was cruel of him to have to hear this. Finally, his emotions calmed enough for him to speak. “Why did he come for me in the first place? I was just a baby.”
A sigh escaped Dumbledore, and he glanced away from Harry. “I’m afraid, my boy, that such information will have to stay with me for the time being. There are too many uncertainties, and the words are not meant for such young ears.” Harry bristled slightly, but didn’t bother to try and fight it. There was no arguing with that tone. “Is there anything else?”
Harry thought about it for a moment, before he narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster. “The invisibility cloak,” He murmured, and ignored the choked sound Snape made. “Do you know anything about it?”
“Ah, yes. It was your father’s, you see. He left it to me for safe keeping, and I felt that he would want it given back to you.” Harry nodded, absorbing that information.
The Headmaster stood slowly, and eyed the candy on Harry’s bedside table. “Do you mind if I...?” Harry shook his head, and Dumbledore took one o the bags of Every Flavour Beans. “In my youth, I happened upon a vomit flavoured one, and lost my taste for them. However...” He dug through and came up with a cream coloured one. “A nice toffee seems a safe enough bet.” The bean disappeared into his mouth, and a strange look crossed over the Headmaster’s face. “Alas, earwax.” Harry recognized the obvious attempt to lighten the mood, but couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face anyway.
Smiling in return at the boy, Dumbledore nodded at him. “I suppose I should be off. Feel better, Harry, Severus.” With that he breezed out of the room.
Harry chanced a glance at Snape, who was staring down at the cover of his book. Guilt twisted in his stomach. The professor had really cared about his mum, and hearing about her death, for Harry no less, must hurt tremendously. “I’m sorry,” Harry told him, before he was even aware of the urge.
Dark eyes shot up to stare at Harry, and a range of emotions passed behind them, too quickly for Harry to identify any. Finally, they settled on something ever so slightly soft. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Potter.” He didn’t elaborate, but when he glanced back down and cracked the book open, he didn’t seem quite so tense.
A few minutes later, Harry could hear a slight commotion outside, before Pomfrey hustled down to the door. She opened it and said a few sharp words, before glancing back out at Harry. “Oh, alright.” She finally sighed. Just five minutes.” Glancing back up at the boy, she gave him a severe look. “You are to remain resting, Mr. Potter, and the second you get tired I want them cleared out.” Harry blinked at her, confused.
The door opened all the way, and Draco and Pansy piled in. The blonde surprised Harry by throwing his arms around him. “Oh, thank Merlin! Your idiotic Gryffindor-ness nearly got yourself killed!” Noticing that they had an audience in the form of Snape, who was ignoring them for his book, and Pomfrey, who was retreating to her office, he backed off and smoothed his robes imperiously, as if he’d never done anything so emotional. Pansy seemed to have no such hang-ups, and when Draco backed off, she replaced him.
“The past few days have been dreadful! You wouldn’t wake up, and all anyone has been doing was talking about it, and I can’t believe it was Quirrell!” At that, Pansy let go of them, and began to do a highly undignified little dance that involved a lot of hand waving and bum waggling. “I was right! I guessed it all the way back at the beginning of the term. A genius, I am.”
From his bed, Snape made a choking noise, disguised as a cough. This did not stop Pansy in the least. Draco rolled his eyes. “You were guessing. It’s not like you actually thought it was Quirrell.”
Pansy waved him off, finally stopping her victory dance. “You’re just mad that I’m right.” She declared.
Bristling, Draco straightened himself up, glaring down his nose at her. “A Malfoy is not jealous of anyone!” He declared.
Before Harry could do more than roll his eyes at them, Pomfrey re-emerged from her office. “Alright, that’s quite enough of this! Mr. Potter needs his rest, you know. Off with you!” She hustled out Draco and Pansy, ignoring their protests, and turned to Harry, who was blinking sleepily. “Go to sleep, Mr. Potter. You’ve had quite enough excitement for now, I think.”
Harry wanted to protest, but fatigue was indeed wearing at him, and instead he settled down under the covers. He closed his eyes, and faintly heard the sound of the office door shutting yet again.
Feeling secure in the warmth of sleep, Harry didn’t even bother to resist the urge to speak one last time. “Pro’sr?” He murmured.
“Yes, Mr. Potter?” Harry wondered if he was actually already asleep, because Snape’s tone sounded warmly affectionate, which couldn’t be right.
“Thanks again for this year.” He was interrupted by a yawn. “You were really helpful. It was nice.”
Snape snorted in reaction to the word ‘nice’. “That is what adults do, Mr. Potter. They help the children in their care.”
Burrowing deeper under the covers, Harry mumbled, “Not me. So thanks.” And with that he drifted off, unaware of his professor’s thoughtful gaze.
The next day Harry and Snape were reluctantly released in time for the feast by Pomfrey, who sniffed and looked utterly put out, but didn’t outright protest. Harry very much appreciated being able to have one more fun memory with his friends before he had to return to the Dursleys’.
The feast was a blast, especially considering Slytherin’s clear victory. In fact, the win was by an even larger margin than thought, since when they passed the hourglasses a large number of emeralds had been added to their total. At the feast, Dumbledore gave Harry and his friends a tiny toast with his goblet, and Harry smiled back, feeling pleased.
His good mood lasted until that evening, when Draco muttered urgently that they needed to talk, and they found an old classroom to speak in.
“You’ve been quiet.” Draco pointed out from his perch on one of the desks. Harry frowned at him and shrugged one shoulder. Looking strangely worried, Draco’s grey eyes gazed intently at Harry, who really wished the other boy would focus elsewhere.
Finally, after a few moments of scrutiny, Harry caved. “I just got out of the Hospital Wing.” He offered.
A head shake was his answer. “That’s not it. You’re getting worse instead of better.” Why had Draco picked now to be insightful? “And some of the stuff you’ve said...Harry...”
“It’s nothing, okay?” He snapped, wondering if he should just bolt. But that would be suspicious, wouldn’t it? More suspicious, anyway.
Draco stared at him for a moment longer, before his impatience got the best of him. “You’re relatives are awful, aren’t they?” Harry tensed up and made to yell, but Draco interrupted. “No, no, listen to me! Harry, if they’re as awful as I’m thinking, you don’t have to stay there.”
His shoulders hunched up defensively, and Harry glared. “And what, stay at an orphanage? Not bloody likely.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Draco replied with an eye roll. “You could stay with us.”
Stunned, Harry stared at him, mouth falling open. “I...Draco, I couldn’t. Your parents...”
Draco waved a hand at him. “Oh, please. Do you think Mother would let you stay there if she thought you weren’t being treated right?” Harry shrugged. There was a big difference between being so nice like she had and taking Harry in for the summer. “You- Harry, we already had you over for the entire winter break. Do you really think it’d be that much different if you stayed the summer?”
That made a lot of sense, actually. “It would...Could I really?”
“Yes, Merlin! Get it through your thick head. But,” Draco gave him a stern look. “There’s a condition.” Harry looked at him curiously. “You have to tell me what they’ve done to you. All of it.”
“Draco,” Harry started to protest, but he was cut off with a wave of Draco’s hand.
“I need to be able to convince my parents, don’t I? Besides, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
Harry gave it some consideration. He really really didn’t want to talk about it. Ever. White hot shame lashed through him at the thought. But if it meant he could get out of there...He glanced up at Draco, who was watching him carefully.
The fact that it was Draco somehow made it easier.
“Are you sure?” He finally answered. “This stuff...It’s not pleasant at all. Once you hear it you can’t take it back, you know.”
A dry look was his answer. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure.” Draco told him imperiously, and a tiny, weak little smile crossed Harry’s face at the tone.
Slowly, he nodded. “Alright. I-I’ll tell you.” He paused and took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I live...I live with my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They have a son, Dudley.” Harry broke off with a weak chuckle. “You actually reminded me of him, a bit, when I first met you. You were going on and on about your Father’s prestige, and...” Harry trailed off and shook his head. “Nevermind. Uh...Thing is, they don’t really...like magic. It scares them, a bit. And so they don’t like me. Never did.”
A swallow cut him off, and Harry took a moment. “The first time I broke my arm was because Dudley pushed me down the front steps. He got a cake that night. I got to stay in my cupboard.” Draco glanced at him at that. “Oh, sorry. That was my bedroom. The cupboard under the stairs. It was on my Hogwarts letter, actually.” Harry smiled a bit at that, like it was a clever joke. Draco did not.
“That’s the trend of it, I guess. They gave me chores to do once I was old enough - stuff like clean the house or weed the garden. If I...If I didn’t do it fast enough, or didn’t do a good enough job, I didn’t eat that day. Sometimes not the next either. And whenever something happened - accidental magic stuff, or things like getting better grades than Dudley, they locked me in the cupboard. I once spent a week in there, and they only let me out to use the bathroom.” Harry shrugged.
By this point Draco looked absolutely horrified, and Harry was shaking lightly. Figuring he’d said well more than enough, he shrugged one more time. “Guess I don’t really blame them. They never wanted me - I was a burden to them. A freak.” He ducked his head, not wanted to see those grey eyes anymore.
A pair of arms around his shoulders made Harry jump back, and he looked up to see Draco looking guilty, hands still reaching towards him. The dark-haired boy settled a bit, and the arms crept back. Finally, Draco had him in a loose hug, Harry’s head at his shoulder.
At first Harry was unresponsive like he had been with Narcissa, unsure of how to react. Slowly, his arms settled at Draco’s waist, and his head came to rest on the other boy’s shoulder. Harry didn’t cry - he hadn’t cried over the Dursleys in a long time - but instead let his emotions drain out of him until he was limp against the blonde.
They stayed like that, with Draco providing the support Harry needed, until well into the night.
The next morning came too quickly and Harry was standing on the platform getting ready to go back to Privet Drive. Draco had assured him that his parents would come and in the meantime he would owl or - if he had to - post. Harry had given him the address all the same and Draco had assured him he would find a return one if it killed him.
Now Harry was watching as Hedwig was loaded into the pet car and smiled. He felt exhausted, but at the same time, pleasantly content. He had done well in his first year. Made friends, learned amazing magic, and even defended the school with the best of them. That was something to be proud of, he was sure. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and let out a satisfied sigh.
“Someone’s looking smug!” Pansy taunted as she came up from behind Harry and looped an arm about his waist. “What’s gotten you so happy?”
“Dunno really, just thinking.”
“Oh?” Pansy ruffled up his already disarrayed hair and giggled. “About what?”
“How glad I am I got my letter.”
Pansy smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, loud and wet, and pouted when he wiped it off. “You’ll owl me, won’t you?”
“It’s a promise.”
Pansy nodded and boarded the train, hopping up the steps gleefully. Draco ambled over, he had removed his robes but was still wearing his school issue trousers and dress shirt. His tie was only half done. He looked mischievous and it made Harry grin.
“What’ve you been up to, then?”
“Oh, nothing much, casting the Bat Bogey Hex on some Hufflepuffs. A farewell gift.”
Harry smacked Draco lightly on the arm before looking up when Hagrid walked over. “Hullo, Hagrid.”
“I got you a going away gift...” Hagrid reached into his large coat and pulled out a book and handed it to Harry. “Thought it might keep you company during the summer.”
Harry took the book curiously and opened it. He stared down at the first page, his heart twisting in his chest at the sight of his mother and his father dancing by a fountain in thick, autumn dress. He stroked his finger down the glossy photo and closed the album. “I love it, Hagrid, thank you.”
Hagrid patted him on the head and made his way off. Harry noticed Snape standing near the edge of the platform with the other heads of House, his eyes dark and sharp. Harry kicked off the railing.
“Go find Pansy. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Harry moved against the people boarding the train towards Snape, whose posture relaxed slightly. Harry stopped about arm’s length away from him.
“Have a good summer, Professor.”
Snape gave a curt nod. “And you, Mr. Potter.” Snape was silent a moment. “And if those Muggles --”
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry started, his voice low so as to not attract attention, “I’ll be sure to inform you. However, Draco’s offered to let me stay with is family.”
Snape nodded again, his mouth in a thin line. “Very good. You’d better hurry or you’ll miss the train.”
Harry nodded. “Right,” He turned to leave before spinning back to face Snape. He thrust out his hand. Snape stared down at it a moment before his own closed around it. Harry shook firmly. “I’m pleased to have met you, sir.”
Snape’s mouth twitched and he released Harry’s hand. “Go, Mr. Potter.”
Harry nodded again and raced onto the train. Several people were playing with magical aeroplanes, or Exploding Snap. Harry moved down the aisles, waving to a few people he knew. He slid into a compartment and spotted Pansy and Draco. He dropped into a seat next to Pansy and grinned.
Several Gryffindors burst through the compartment, shouting about something or other, before the door clanged shut behind them. Harry watched them, amused. He was going to miss the excitement and bustle of Hogwarts during the summer, that was for sure. Hermione passed through the compartment and paused at their seats, grabbing at the overhead railing as the train lurched into motion.
“Neville’s lost Trevor again. Have you seen him?”
“Longbottom needs to put a tracking spell on that bloody frog.”
“It’s a toad,” Hermione corrected Draco, “and we’ve tried.”
“Well, we haven’t seen him. If we do, we’ll let you know.”
Hermione nodded once and turned on her heel to march out of the compartment. Pansy shook her head at her.
“Not even a goodbye.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug before pulling over his backpack and pulled out a set of Dudley’s old clothes. He was sure if he didn’t look like a street urchin the Dursley’s wouldn’t recognize him. As he stood to go change in the loo, Harry reminded himself it was only for a few days. He took care and folded his uniform, doing his best not to get knocked around by the train, and slipped out, making his way back to his seat.
“Those are funny sorts of clothes, aren’t they?” Pansy observed as Harry shoved his things back into his bag. “Are they a fashion statement?”
Harry cracked a smile and nodded his head. “Yeah, Pans, they’re a fashion statement.”
“A ghastly one, if I may say.” She rose her shoulders in a shrug and opened her copy of Witch Weekly.
Harry smiled at her and rested his head on her shoulder. He fell asleep to the noise of the students and the rocking back and forth of the train.
“Wake up, you dolt.”
Harry shot up and wiped his face for drool before righting his glasses. “‘M up!”
“You slept the whole way to London.”
Harry looked out the window and saw the familiar sign and platform. They’d arrived back at Platform 9 ¾. He looked at his watch and yawned. He stood and gathered his carry-on items and de-trained.
He saw a gaggle of gingers off to one side and watched as Ron dashed to join them. Loud, happy cries of greeting were his response and he was enveloped into their fold. People were waving and shouting. Pansy ran past him and leaped into a tall man with dark hair. He was slender like her, and standing next to a woman with rambunctiously curly dark brown hair who hugged Pansy next. Harry waved when Pansy looked over and she waved back enthusiastically.
Harry watched as some students crossed through the barriers in controlled numbers. He felt Draco’s hand lay against his arm and he turned his head, looking to the Malfoy.
“Ready?”
Harry nodded his head. “Yeah.”
They slipped through with the next group and Draco led Harry towards where his parents were waiting in smart dress. Harry ducked his head at Narcissa’s glare towards his clothing but said nothing. She smiled at him and hugged him around the shoulders.
“Where is your family, dear?”
Harry craned his neck around. He finally spotted his Aunt Petunia standing near a bench where both his uncle and Dudley were sitting. Dudley was devouring an ice cream. Harry fought the strong urge to sneer. “Over there.”
Narcissa turned in place and eyed the Dursleys. Her upper lip curled unpleasantly, but she didn’t say anything. “Well then. It’s best you’d be off. Don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Harry nodded and looked to Draco, who patted his arm and nodded his head. Draco had promised to talk to his parents that night. Harry looked towards the Dursleys. Petunia was tapping her foot impatiently and crossing her arms.
“I’d better go then.”
“I’ll owl you soon.”
Harry nodded and headed towards his aunt and uncle. Vernon lurched up out of the bench, which groaned at the action, and grabbed Harry by the arm.
“Come along, boy. We’ve waited long enough.”
Harry nodded and the Dursleys lumbered off, Petunia spouting disgust as she walked. Harry gladly took his trolley from the attendant and added his bag to it. He turned and looked at at the Malfoy’s who were standing there, waving at him. Harry waved back before turning to push his trolley.
When he rounded the end of the platform, he could see Draco wave one last time before he was gone in a blink. He rose a hand and waved at the empty air before rushing off at Vernon’s roar.
Just a few days.
Then it wouldn’t matter.