Things I Never Knew: Chapter
Chapter 15: Sneaking
Harry had never felt so relieved as when he heard that the missing boys were found the next day. Apparently they had wandered into the forbidden forest and had quite a night, before finding their way out again. He felt a bit silly for making such a big deal about it in his mind, but he wasn’t sorry that he had begun cutting again. He didn’t think that he could live without cutting.
“The practice of Owning began with medieval feudal societies. Many high class wizarding families wanted complete loyalty from their vassals. The first Owned took voluntary vows that were accompanied by a complex magical ritual meant to bind the two closely together. As the practice evolved it became concentrated in the lowest levels of wizarding society.”
“Find anything?” Ron’s voice drew Harry from the book he had filched from the Restricted Section.
“No, it’s just history,” Harry said in disgust. “I don’t care about the history of Owning. I’m not Hermione.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked, a bit heatedly.
“Nothing,” Harry said, alarmed. Was Ron now going to get angry every time he made a good-natured joke about Hermione?
“Why didn’t you just get Hermione to do this for you?” Ron asked a moment later.
“I wanted too . . . but I was afraid that she would start going off about House Elves or something,” Harry flinched, he had done it again! He quickly went back to reading the volume before Ron could say anything.
“By the early 17th century, most Owned were bound to their Owners soon after birth and the status was passed on from parents to children. Legally, this became from mother to children, probably because a large number of Owned women had children by their Owners and Owners didn’t want to lose this valuable group.”
That was slightly more interesting, but Harry still sighed in boredom. He had always disliked history, although this beat Goblin Wars any day.
“There’s nothing in here that we don’t already know,” he told Ron.
“So glad that you could join me, Harry,” Dumbledore said pleasantly, as though he and Harry were having afternoon tea. Harry had been summoned to the Headmaster’s office that afternoon.
He grunted noncommittally.
“Right, well, it seems that we have a bit of a problem.”
Harry waited. Dumbledore merely looked at him. “Which would be . . .?” Harry obediently prompted.
“Christmas is coming up.”
“And how is that a problem?”
“Well, Hogwarts will be closed this year, in order that extensive protections against Voldemort can be put in place.”
Harry froze. Did this mean that he would have to spend Christmas with the Dursleys?
“I thought that the school was already well protected.”
“Of course it is, but with the recent activities, we can’t be too sure.”
“Naturally,” Harry said dryly.
“As you usually stay here for the holidays, I am rather at a loss for what to do with you.”
“I can stay with the Weasleys,” Harry suggested, knowing that Dumbledore would have already thought of this, but not caring.
“Ah. But the Burrow is no longer totally secure. We need to put you somewhere absolutely safe. If we can’t find anywhere suitable, then I’m afraid it will have to be the Dursleys.”
Harry took a long breath.
“But we’ve still got a while to think on it,” Dumbledore reassured him. I’m sure that you or I will be able to come up with something.”
“Would it really hurt anything if I stayed at Hogwarts?” Harry insisted.
“I’m afraid so. The nature of some of the spells makes it necessary that the students all be absent.”
Harry sighed and looked up at the headmaster’s stone ceiling. He paid very little attention to anything else that Dumbledore had to say that day.
That night, the mere thought of having to spend Christmas with the Dursleys caused Harry to cut two more gashes into his leg, and one across his stomach.
Harry had half expected Snape to know that he was still cutting the moment that he walked in for his next Occlumency lesson. Snape always seemed to be able to figure things out where others were blind. However, the Occlumency lessons went relatively well up until the end.
“How are your Potions lessons going?” Snape asked near the end of the lesson.
“Um, okay,” Harry lied.
“Really? Because Darius told me that you were being . . . difficult.”
“Why that . . . that little . . . Slytherin,” Harry thought.
“Yeah, well . . .” Harry began, but Snape stalled him as though he didn’t want to hear Harry’s platitudes.
“You’re going to fail the class.”
“Well, do you think that you could have assigned me a tutor who was any harder to get along with?” Harry asked sarcastically.
“Darius is brilliant at Potions . . .”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t mean that he can teach me!” Harry flushed realizing that this statement could also describe Snape and that Snape probably knew what he was thinking.
Snape scowled at him. “If you’re not going to make an effort, then I see no reason why I should care if you fail.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Harry said stubbornly.
“I most certainly won’t in the future. Show me your arms.”
“What?” Harry asked, unsettled. Was that meant to remind him of the tremendous favor that Snape was already doing him by keeping quiet?
“We do this every lesson. Is it that hard to understand, Potter? Show me your arms.”
Harry angrily rolled back his sleeves and thrust his arms out. Even though he knew that Snape wouldn’t find anything there, he was a bit nervous.
Snape glanced at his arms as though they only warranted the barest portion of his attention.
“Get out of my sight, Potter,” he said in a disgusted tone of voice.
The next day, Harry went to go look up more about Owning, but found that Caydon and Lydia were already sitting in the library, not reading, but whispering to one another fervently.
“Hello, Caydon.”
Both children jumped, nearly out of their seats.
“Oh! Hello, Harry,” Caydon said, nervously.
This was rather suspicious. “What are you two doing?”
“Nothing,” Caydon said innocently.
But Lydia thought otherwise. “We were trying to figure out how to sneak into Hogsmeade,” she told him, simply.
“Lydia!” Caydon screeched.
“He won’t tell on us.”
Harry was shocked. As respectful as Caydon was of authority, Harry thought that he would never try something as bold as sneaking to Hogsmeade. And in First Year too!
“I bet he now have the sneak in to Hogsmeade,” Lydia said slyly. “Don’t you Harry?”
“Lydia!”
Harry thought on this for a moment. Why was the idea of it so appealing? True, he still couldn’t find anyone to hang out with during the Hogsmeade visits, but a couple of eleven year old weren’t likely to be much fun. Still, they were better than no one. At least they weren’t the type to cling to Harry because of his fame. Maybe what he really wanted was a little mischief. Harry always felt restless when he was not actively working to defeat Voldemort. He thought he was beginning to understand why his father and Sirius were always getting into trouble.
“I do know of a way . . .” Harry said hesitantly. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone . . .”
Lydia perked up and even Caydon raised his gaze to meet Harry’s.
“Sure!” Lydia said, brightly.
“What about you Caydon?”
Caydon looked at his hands for a long moment. “I agree,” he said finally. “Tell us.”
Harry hesitated, regretting even mentioning it. “There is a statue of a humpbacked witch on the third floor,” he told them, reluctantly. “It opens up a secret passage to the cellar of Honeydukes.”
“Awesome!” Lydia breathed.
Harry was regretting this more and more. “Was there any particular reason that you wanted to go?”
“It’s Hogsmeade,” Lydia exclaimed, but Caydon changed the subject.
“How are we to get out of the cellar of Honeydukes without anyone seeing us?”
Harry briefly contemplated lending his cloak to the two children, but immediately discarded the idea. He had already revealed too much by telling them about the secret passage - Caydon was Snape’s son and he barely knew Lydia. If they told a teacher then it would become much harder for him to sneak around - if he ever needed.
“Go out the back door that opens into the alleyway. I’ll meet you there.”
Was it just his imagination or did Caydon’s face fall at this?
“Something wrong, Caydon?”
“Nothing . . . just, you don’t have to come with us, Harry. I’m sure that you want to be with your own friends.”
Harry certainly did. He also didn’t particularly feel like imposing himself where he wasn’t wanted, but now that he had told the children about the secret passage, he felt somehow responsible. As though he had to watch them, to make sure that nothing happened. After all, he supposed that they didn’t let students under the third year visit Hogsmeade for a reason.
“I think it would be best if I met you,” he said, firmly.
Caydon’s face flushed and he opened his mouth to say something.
“It’s alright, Caydon,” Lydia said, in confusion. “He can come with us.”
Caydon’s face went blank. “Of course he can,” he said, pleasantly, a moment later.
Harry thought that he really needed to stop acting on his impulses. Helping Caydon and Lydia get to Hogwarts and watching them when they got there was going to be quite an annoyance. He wasn’t a nursemaid! There was also the possibility that he could get in trouble. But he had a sneaking suspicion that Caydon and Lydia would go with or without his help.
“Caydon, you had better wear your regular robes so no one will know you go to Hogwarts.” The boy’s size ensured that no one would take him for a Hogwart’s student unless they knew him. “Lydia . . .”
Lydia presented more of a problem. Tall for age, Harry thought that she wouldn’t be able to easily pass for under eleven, but he wasn’t too sure how well she would pass for a Third Year either. Harry thought hard on this.
“You had better just wear your Hogwarts robes,” Harry said finally. Lydia grinned. “I hope you can pass for a short Third Year.”
Lydia agreed and shortly left the library. Harry looked down at Caydon.
“So why don’t you want me to go with you?”
Caydon shrugged.
“Don’t you like me?”
“Of course, I like you, Harry,” he said sincerely.
“Do I smell?”
“No,” Caydon laughed.
“Do you fancy Lydia?” he asked teasingly, thinking of Ron.
“Ew! Yuck, Harry.”
Harry laughed, but then became more serious. “So why not?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Is it something to do with the Malfoys?”
“Is that all you think about when you look at me now?” Caydon said, not angrily, but curiously. “That I’m . . . Owned,” the last word was said in a soft, but heated, whisper.
“No . . . I just . . .”
“I think I might have liked it better when you just saw my father,” Caydon’s voice was half amused.
Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn’t think of a comeback, mainly because he had been thinking of Caydon’s Owned status a lot when he thought of him.
“Just make sure that you meet me at Hogsmeade.”
“Going to keep us out of trouble?” Caydon arched an eyebrow as though the idea was ridiculous.
“That’s right,” Harry replied as though he hadn’t heard the sarcasm.