Butterfly 19 - LM/HP
Hello, is anyone out there?
PREVIOUS HERE
Sorry for the wait. Sometimes people just forget what they had been meaning to write… and sometimes their Internet breaks. My Internet has been gone since like Thursday fortnight ago! The last time that happened, my ISP centre had been struck by lightening! With all the flooding in Ireland lately, it would just be my luck if the ISP centre were based in one of the flooded towns that have had their power cut off indefinitely. Sigh.
Really, really couldn’t remember what I had originally planned for this chapter… So it probably is a crap chapter, but shrug.
GO READ “VOODOO” BY CONSTANTSNOW… Yay for a decent Gambit/Harry fiction!
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Words: 3,691
Chapter 19
January 5th 1992.
Harry watched them with a smile.
He lay on the grass in the garden, half hidden by the rosebushes. Evan watched him through the window, hidden underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak.
Three Order members stood around outside of Number 4, all of them waiting until Harry’s uncle brought him outside to return him to Hogwarts. They had reported to Dumbledore that Harry seemed rather happy to be home: he avoided Dudley, he ignored Petunia, and he spent strange quantities of time with Vernon. His behaviour was the polar opposite of what Dumbledore had thought it might be. The Headmaster knew there was no love lost between Petunia and her deceased sister, and he doubted very much that she would have grown to love Harry either. He had warned the Order of that fact. The Order members had waited around, keeping an eye out for Potter and trying to keep the suspicious acting family within view of at least one of them at all times.
Petunia Dursley had a job! Albus had been rather stunned to learn that small fact when he had been told. Severus had been rather impressed by the knowledge. He thought it was about time the lazy spiteful cow stopped relying on her husband for monetary support.
Dudley Dursley was a bully and a liar, plain and simple. Kingsley had been the one to follow the boy to school and back for the few days before Christmas break started, just to make sure that he wasn’t telling anyone anything about his ‘special’ cousin. The boy was spreading rumours, except they had nothing to do with Harry being magical. Instead, he seemed to believe that Harry spent the school year at a facility for the mentally unstable. He took pleasure in shoving the younger children around, knocking them over and stealing food and money from them.
Kingsley had expected his behaviour to be no different back at Number 4, and he had been prepared to reveal himself and protect Harry from any harm. But, strangely, Dudley avoided his cousin like the plague. He cringed whenever Vernon was in the room, and he outright trembled when Vernon and Harry where together in the same room as Dudley was. Kingsley couldn’t understand the strangeness of the Muggle family.
The strangest one of all of them, however, had to be Vernon.
Dumbledore had told them all that Vernon Dursley liked everything ‘normal’ and hated ‘freakish’ things. Mudungus Fletcher didn’t see why, if that were the case, Vernon would take to spending the majority of his free time following Harry around the house, or the town, or simply hiding away together in Harry’s bedroom. Tonks thought that last issue was odd and worrying, but Dung didn’t pay it much mind. Dursley had never shown an inclination towards young boys before, so why should he start with someone as unnatural as a Wizard?
None of the Order members could quite decide whether the Dursleys were just weird, or if they were a typically strange Muggle family. Harry was the only one’s whose behaviour made any sense. He didn’t like his bully of a cousin, he didn’t like his spiteful aunt, and the only one he did like was his uncle, who actually treated him well.
Evan of course knew about their thoughts. Their facial expressions were not hard to read. The only one he had difficulty with was Severus, and even at that, the man’s Occlumency shields were too strong to breech as well. He did know, however, that Snape took some sort of perverse pleasure in watching Petunia suffering at her lowly café job.
It had become a game to them. For the two weeks that Harry had been back at Privet Drive, Evan had insisted on teaching him something. He gave essays, questions, theories he wanted Harry to think on, spells to memorise and learn the wand movements for, and then there were the times Evan wanted to use the Order members to better train Harry. At first, Harry just had to sneak passed them without anyone noticing. He had done pretty well, but he had been using the Invisibility cloak. Evan had made him do it again without the cloak. Harry had also been made to hex one of them, while sneaking passed, just to see if his ‘Disillusionment Charm’ was strong enough. It hadn’t been much of a test, seeing as Fletcher was drunk and half asleep at the time.
This time, Dung, Tonks and Severus were there. Evan wanted to see if Harry could get to the end of the road without being noticed. The boy had all of his things, shrunken, in his pockets. Evan had his invisibility cloak, and so it wouldn’t be too difficult to breeze right passed the other Witch and Wizards and meet Harry at the end of the road.
Harry looked over his shoulder. He knew Evan’s gaze was firmly fixed on him. He took a deep breath, and waved his wand, whispering the words as soft as he possibly could. He held his breath, hoping that no one had heard him. He shuffled forward, army crawling, away from the rosebush and over behind the azalea. He poked his wand through the shrub and flicked it, casting a tripping-hex. Nymphandora gave a cry and toppled forward, right on top of Dung. Her and Fletcher fell to the floor with twin groans.
“Stupefy,” he cast again, aiming at Dung’s head. The man was out cold. He continued to lie on the ground, even as Tonks scrambled clumsily to her feet.
“Bloody hell, woman,” Snape hissed. He narrowed his eyes at her, before turning to glare at Dung’s unconscious body. “What happened?”
“I don’t know! I just fell!” The teenager cried, rubbing her elbow with a grimace. It was going to bruise before the morning. “I think Mudungus pushed me.”
Severus rolled his eyes, before bending down to prod Dung with his finger. The man didn’t stir at all.
While the two adults were busy inspecting the fallen Wizard, Harry scuffled forward, still crawling on his belly, until he was at the end of the Dursley’s driveway. A tall oak tree grew just outside of the gate, and Harry stood slowly, his wand raised and ready just in case. He hugged the tree, took a deep breath, and shifted until he was in full view of the Order members. Harry took a deep breath before refreshing his ‘Disillusionment Charm’ and adding a ‘Featherweight Charm’ to his shoes. Then he took off down the street, sprinting as quickly as he could manage it.
No one looked up as he ran, so Harry could only assume that Severus thought it was a Muggle making noise. Tonks was busy fretting over her swelling elbow, and Dung, of course, was unconscious.
Harry crouched down behind the rubbish bin. There was a post box next to the bin, but if he hid behind that he would be in full view of the front window of Number 1. Mrs. Delaney would be sure to come outside and shout at him, announcing his presence to the world and the Order of the Phoenix. So he stayed, squatting, behind the bin.
“Well done,” Evan said, as he dropped a hand onto Harry’s shoulder. Two seconds later, Evan pulled him to the side, and together they spun on their heels and disappeared with a ‘crack’. “I am impressed. Or perhaps Snape is growing stupid in his old age? I didn’t not think you would make it passed him.”
“Then why did you-?” Harry questioned.
They had arrived outside of Kings Cross. It was busy at that time of the morning, and Harry had to twist and turn his body to avoid all of the elbows and feet and briefcases that seemed to coincidentally find his body. Evan had no trouble navigating the crowds. People seemed to instinctively avoid the man. He wasn’t Polyjuiced: he felt, that if Harry were caught practising magic, it would be hard to explain why a Muggle like Vernon would be actively encouraging it. Evan had planned just to turn into a butterfly and fly away. His car was parked one street over, in the event of such circumstances, so that way Vernon could just drive back on to the road and pretend he didn’t know a thing.
“It was a test, child. It would teach you nothing if I made you do things I knew you could do. That is the point of testing someone, to see what he or she cannot do, and then help him or her learn to do it. You did very well.” He paused, frowning heavily. “Would you like me to come through?”
Harry considered it for a moment. He did want Evan to accompany him onto Platform 9 and ¾, and to be able to wave goodbye to the man out of the train window like everyone else did. But it wasn’t practical, or safe. Having Evan Rosier, wanted criminal and presumed dead, turn up as himself in a popular Wizarding area was asking for trouble. Even as the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry would have a snowball’s chance in hell of saving his father from Azkaban.
If Evan had been Polyjuiced it wouldn’t have been such a problem. With the influx of Muggleborns to Hogwarts since Dumbledore became Headmaster in 1956, the Ministry have had to find a way to allow the non-magical parents onto the platform and passed the barrier, so that they would be able to see their children safely on the train in person. It was a simply idea, but ingenious. Most Witches and Wizards (well all of them, actually) were prone to carrying their wand on them at all times. All a Muggle had to do was be accompanied by a wand carrying magical person and they would be able to pass easily through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.
If someone saw Vernon Dursley standing beside Lucius Malfoy, the general assumption would be that the Muggle had followed close enough behind the Wizard so as to trick the barrier. No one would think too much on it. Plenty of Muggles saw their children off without consequence. Why should one more be different?
“No. You shouldn’t come through.” Harry said, softly. He leant forward, allowing Evan to tug him closer, and his arms wrapped tightly around the elder man for a moment and squeezed. “I’ll see you for Imbolc though, right?”
“No. Albus doesn’t allow holidays other than Christmas, Easter, and the summer period.” His usual drawling voice had turned into a whine, and Harry smiled at the frown that graced Evan’s face as he mentioned the Muggle holidays. “If you ask me, it’s pathetic. The Mudbloods are ruining our world.”
A sudden gasp from beside them had both dark haired Wizard’s heads turning to look. A family of four hovered beside them, and Harry recognized one of them as Stephen Cornfoot. Stephen was the only Muggleborn Ravenclaw in Harry’s year. The blond boy was lazy, and unmotivated, and he didn’t do very well in class in comparison with the other Ravenclaws (but he was naturally smart enough to do better than most of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in their year). He and Harry didn’t get on very well. On their first day of school, Stephen had refused to wake up and attend breakfast promptly on time, and so Harry had hexed him. Stephen had spent his first two classes in the Infirmary.
“Oh look who it is,” Harry drawled, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “It’s nice to know you aren’t always late for everything. And look! You even managed to dress somewhat decently this morning. Makes a change from every other day of the year, doesn’t it, Cornfoot?” Harry’s nose wrinkled in disgust. He was obviously being sarcastic, because Stephen’s clothes were rumpled and his shirt was untucked and half buttoned, and his shoes were scuffed and flecked with mud.
“I was in a rush this morning, Potter.” The other boy grumbled, a blush on his cheeks.
Another grin crossed Harry’s face. “Overslept again, did we? Surprise, surprise.” He turned his back on his year mate, and nodded politely to Evan. “Goodbye,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice toneless. It wouldn’t do for Cornfoot to realise that Harry was friends with a Pureblood, Mudblood hating, Wizard. He walked away without a response from Evan, and strode confidently through the barrier, his head held high.
Evan watched him silently. When Harry was completely out of site, he glanced once at the Muggles, and then disapparated, uncaring of who might see him. When his Lord returned, the Muggles would be made to know of them anyway.
And then the Muggles would know their real place in the world.
XXX
February 2nd 1992.
Imbolc is one of the four principle festivals of the Gaelic calendar. Most commonly it is celebrated on February 2, falling halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. Originally dedicated to the goddess Brigid, with the infestation of the Christian period, it was changed into St Brigid's Day. Imbolc is a festival of the hearth and home, and a celebration of the lengthening days and the early signs of spring. Celebrations often involved hearthfires, special foods, divination or simply watching for omens, a great deal of candles, and perhaps an outdoor bonfire if the weather permits it.
Considering it was a festival that was intended to bless the home, it was meant to be spent with ones family. But Dumbledore no longer allowed student to go home for Imbolc. There would be no reason to send the Mudbloods home, and it wouldn’t look right to be discriminating against them by making only them remain at Hogwarts for that Sunday.
Harry didn’t really mind. He was more than capable of convincing Draco and Theo to light candles for each of their immediate family members, and say the bless prayers along with him. When curfew was set to begin the night before, Harry had gathered the ashes from the fireplace and smeared them across the headboard of his bed, trusting Theo and Draco to do the same, and then left out his invisibility cloak, draped over the door to his dormitory.
It was believed that Brigid walked the earth on Imbolc’s Eve, and blessed those articles of clothing left in her path. If the ashes or fires that were lit outside of the homes had been disturbed, then Brigid had been there and blessed that home. The articles of clothing left outside were considered to have healing powers.
Ever since Harry had been given the cloak, he had been having nightmares. No one seemed to know why, because he had never dreamt of his parent’s deaths, or of Voldemort, since Evan had come to live with him. Lucius thought it might have been because of the Dark Mark, and Harry’s curse scar, the Horcrux inside of him, was attracted to the Mark, recognizing it as part of itself and feeling safer for its presence. With Harry now spending so much time away from Evan, and with his Light father’s cloak, which had been in Dumbledore’s possession for an inestimable amount of time, Dumbledore having done who-knows-what to it before giving it back, perhaps Voldemort’s Horcrux was feeling threatened? Lucius had insisted, quite amused by his theory, that the Horcrux was trying to remind Harry who he belonged to and what side he was on.
Harry wasn’t a fan of nightmares. Who was?
He didn’t like being reminded nightly about who had killed his parents, and about how he was thinking, planning, to join that same man. Nor did he like to consider the idea that Voldemort’s soul piece considered Harry as an object that already belonged to them. Harry hadn’t picked sides yet. He still wasn’t sure how Voldemort felt on the matter!
Harry had hidden the cloak, ignored it unless if was useful, but when Imbolc’s Eve passed by, he could resist leaving it out in the hopes that it would be blessed. Blessed items were meant to contain healing powers for the following year. Perhaps, it would heal him from his nightmares?
It was a nice thought but, since he wasn’t entirely sure that nightmares were a form of illness Brigid was capable of healing, he didn’t quite want to risk going to sleep early. If he had a nightmare and woke up, the chances were he wouldn’t get back to sleep again that night. But if he waited until later, until he was physically so tired that he couldn’t stand, there was usually less chance of him dreaming.
Harry had the cloak thrown over him as he wondered through the hallways of Hogwarts. The note that Dumbledore had sent him, along with the cloak, was clutched tightly in one hand. He had spent his last handful of sleepless early morning hidden in the library, studying, trying to make Evan proud and figure out the riddle. At the bottom of the page, Harry had wrote, ‘Mirror of Erised’. Now all he had to do was find it.
Harry stumbled across it quite by accident five minutes later. He had ducked into a corridor to avoid Mr Filch and his horrid cat, and when Mrs. Norris had come after him, Harry had ducked through the only door in that hallway.
The Mirror stood in the centre of the room, and apart from it, the room was empty. Harry walked towards it slowly, allowing the cloak to slide from his shoulders and pool on the ground behind him. His fingers reached forward to trace the letters engraved on the top of the mirror, and in his head he translated it, before repeating it out loud.
“I show not your face, but your heart’s desire.” He bit his bottom lip, before moving to stand directly in front of the full-length mirror. His reflection stared back. “What is it I desire?”
Lucius appeared behind him, and Harry chuckled softly. He reached out to trace Lucius’ face on the surface of the mirror, surprised to note that apparently his heart desired the blond Wizard.
“So this is the Mirror of Erised,” someone said. The voice was familiar, and despite the fact that Harry hadn’t realized someone was in the room with him he didn’t jump. Instead, he turned slowly to face Lucius, a small smirk on his face. “What did you see?” Lucius asked, as he turned Harry around to look back into the mirror.
Their bodies were pressed against each other’s, Lucius bending down slightly to rest his chin on the top of Harry’s head. “I see me, and you, and the wall behind us. Exactly as we are.” The child pulled away from Lucius’ touch. “What does that mean?”
Lucius chuckled lightly. “It means you are content, and that you desire nothing. It may change in the future, or it may not. But at this time, you are happy with your life.”
“How did you find me?” Harry turned around so he was facing his friend’s father.
“I came to spend the evening of Imbolc with my son, but I am told he is asleep. I used a ‘Point Me Spell’ to find you, since you were not in your dormitory.”
“You’ll have to teach me that spell.” Harry whispered, offering a soft smile.
“They teach it in later years at Hogwarts. But if you do not wish to wait, I’m sure I could be persuaded to instruct you.” A pale hand shot forward, brushing back Harry’s fringe, before allowing its fingers to run down a flushed cheek. Grey eyes drank in the look of surprise and pleasure on Harry’s face, the blush on his cheeks and the way the child’s eyes fluttered shut. “I would be happy to, in fact.”
“What do you want from me?” Harry breathed out softly, his chest rising and falling faster than it should have been. His hands trembled as he backed away, knocking lightly into the Mirror.
“Right now? Nothing, but that may change in time. Actually, I assure you, it will change, and I will want as much as you will give me. Surely you have noticed that I care for you?” Lucius had a smirk on his lips, and he raised one eyebrow in a silent question, as Harry blushed darker. “Do you care for me?”
“I am interested by you. The thought of you not liking me, or being disappointed in me, hurts my heart. It’s like with Evan, but not the same, not in the same way. I want him to be proud of me, but I want you to like me. Does that make sense?” Harry blinked his eyes, frowning and trying to make sense of his own thoughts.
Lucius longed to tell him, to explain to Harry, that what he was saying sounded like the beginnings of a crush. That it was as if Harry was finally learning to differentiate familial love from romantic love. But he had promised Evan and Narcissa to let Harry realise things for himself, and then to let Harry approach him if that was what the child desired. Instead, Lucius reached out to cup Harry’s cheek again.
“I understand perfectly.” He pressed a light kiss to Harry’s chin, crouching down so that he could hold his lips comfortably in that place for a full minute before drawing his mouth away. “And you will too, in time.”
“What do you think I’d see, Lucius, if my heart does decide to change?” Harry wondered.
Lucius took him by the elbow and begun steering him towards the door. Harry glanced back at the Mirror, just in time to see his reflection throw something round in the air and catch it quickly again. The colour red flashed through Harry’s mind, the light refracting off of the glass and the hidden object, and the boy suddenly knew whatever secret the Mirror was hiding was an important one.
But it was also something he was sure he wanted nothing to do with. So, he said nothing, and let Lucius lead him away.
XXX
A/N: If anyone is wondering. Tonks is 18 years old, and has actually just finished her final year at Hogwarts, while Harry is in his first. Tonks was a Hufflepuff. It takes 3 years of training to qualify as an Auror, so right now, she’s helping Dumbledore scheme because she isn’t inducted into the Order until she qualifies either.
GLARE EPIC GLARE! My power just went, and even though I saved beforehand, I still lost like 500 words! Word Recovery is rubbish! And I’ve also lost the notebook I had with all of my Quidditch notations in, so, yeah, no more Quidditch teams?
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Wow! Don’t you love it when someone PM’s you or Review Replies with “OMG, it’s you? Blah blah blah!” Seriously… my ego is swelling (more so than usual). I’m afraid I’ll no longer be able to fit it down the rabbit hole!!
PREVIOUS HERE
Sorry for the wait. Sometimes people just forget what they had been meaning to write… and sometimes their Internet breaks. My Internet has been gone since like Thursday fortnight ago! The last time that happened, my ISP centre had been struck by lightening! With all the flooding in Ireland lately, it would just be my luck if the ISP centre were based in one of the flooded towns that have had their power cut off indefinitely. Sigh.
Really, really couldn’t remember what I had originally planned for this chapter… So it probably is a crap chapter, but shrug.
GO READ “VOODOO” BY CONSTANTSNOW… Yay for a decent Gambit/Harry fiction!
* * *
Words: 3,691
Chapter 19
January 5th 1992.
Harry watched them with a smile.
He lay on the grass in the garden, half hidden by the rosebushes. Evan watched him through the window, hidden underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak.
Three Order members stood around outside of Number 4, all of them waiting until Harry’s uncle brought him outside to return him to Hogwarts. They had reported to Dumbledore that Harry seemed rather happy to be home: he avoided Dudley, he ignored Petunia, and he spent strange quantities of time with Vernon. His behaviour was the polar opposite of what Dumbledore had thought it might be. The Headmaster knew there was no love lost between Petunia and her deceased sister, and he doubted very much that she would have grown to love Harry either. He had warned the Order of that fact. The Order members had waited around, keeping an eye out for Potter and trying to keep the suspicious acting family within view of at least one of them at all times.
Petunia Dursley had a job! Albus had been rather stunned to learn that small fact when he had been told. Severus had been rather impressed by the knowledge. He thought it was about time the lazy spiteful cow stopped relying on her husband for monetary support.
Dudley Dursley was a bully and a liar, plain and simple. Kingsley had been the one to follow the boy to school and back for the few days before Christmas break started, just to make sure that he wasn’t telling anyone anything about his ‘special’ cousin. The boy was spreading rumours, except they had nothing to do with Harry being magical. Instead, he seemed to believe that Harry spent the school year at a facility for the mentally unstable. He took pleasure in shoving the younger children around, knocking them over and stealing food and money from them.
Kingsley had expected his behaviour to be no different back at Number 4, and he had been prepared to reveal himself and protect Harry from any harm. But, strangely, Dudley avoided his cousin like the plague. He cringed whenever Vernon was in the room, and he outright trembled when Vernon and Harry where together in the same room as Dudley was. Kingsley couldn’t understand the strangeness of the Muggle family.
The strangest one of all of them, however, had to be Vernon.
Dumbledore had told them all that Vernon Dursley liked everything ‘normal’ and hated ‘freakish’ things. Mudungus Fletcher didn’t see why, if that were the case, Vernon would take to spending the majority of his free time following Harry around the house, or the town, or simply hiding away together in Harry’s bedroom. Tonks thought that last issue was odd and worrying, but Dung didn’t pay it much mind. Dursley had never shown an inclination towards young boys before, so why should he start with someone as unnatural as a Wizard?
None of the Order members could quite decide whether the Dursleys were just weird, or if they were a typically strange Muggle family. Harry was the only one’s whose behaviour made any sense. He didn’t like his bully of a cousin, he didn’t like his spiteful aunt, and the only one he did like was his uncle, who actually treated him well.
Evan of course knew about their thoughts. Their facial expressions were not hard to read. The only one he had difficulty with was Severus, and even at that, the man’s Occlumency shields were too strong to breech as well. He did know, however, that Snape took some sort of perverse pleasure in watching Petunia suffering at her lowly café job.
It had become a game to them. For the two weeks that Harry had been back at Privet Drive, Evan had insisted on teaching him something. He gave essays, questions, theories he wanted Harry to think on, spells to memorise and learn the wand movements for, and then there were the times Evan wanted to use the Order members to better train Harry. At first, Harry just had to sneak passed them without anyone noticing. He had done pretty well, but he had been using the Invisibility cloak. Evan had made him do it again without the cloak. Harry had also been made to hex one of them, while sneaking passed, just to see if his ‘Disillusionment Charm’ was strong enough. It hadn’t been much of a test, seeing as Fletcher was drunk and half asleep at the time.
This time, Dung, Tonks and Severus were there. Evan wanted to see if Harry could get to the end of the road without being noticed. The boy had all of his things, shrunken, in his pockets. Evan had his invisibility cloak, and so it wouldn’t be too difficult to breeze right passed the other Witch and Wizards and meet Harry at the end of the road.
Harry looked over his shoulder. He knew Evan’s gaze was firmly fixed on him. He took a deep breath, and waved his wand, whispering the words as soft as he possibly could. He held his breath, hoping that no one had heard him. He shuffled forward, army crawling, away from the rosebush and over behind the azalea. He poked his wand through the shrub and flicked it, casting a tripping-hex. Nymphandora gave a cry and toppled forward, right on top of Dung. Her and Fletcher fell to the floor with twin groans.
“Stupefy,” he cast again, aiming at Dung’s head. The man was out cold. He continued to lie on the ground, even as Tonks scrambled clumsily to her feet.
“Bloody hell, woman,” Snape hissed. He narrowed his eyes at her, before turning to glare at Dung’s unconscious body. “What happened?”
“I don’t know! I just fell!” The teenager cried, rubbing her elbow with a grimace. It was going to bruise before the morning. “I think Mudungus pushed me.”
Severus rolled his eyes, before bending down to prod Dung with his finger. The man didn’t stir at all.
While the two adults were busy inspecting the fallen Wizard, Harry scuffled forward, still crawling on his belly, until he was at the end of the Dursley’s driveway. A tall oak tree grew just outside of the gate, and Harry stood slowly, his wand raised and ready just in case. He hugged the tree, took a deep breath, and shifted until he was in full view of the Order members. Harry took a deep breath before refreshing his ‘Disillusionment Charm’ and adding a ‘Featherweight Charm’ to his shoes. Then he took off down the street, sprinting as quickly as he could manage it.
No one looked up as he ran, so Harry could only assume that Severus thought it was a Muggle making noise. Tonks was busy fretting over her swelling elbow, and Dung, of course, was unconscious.
Harry crouched down behind the rubbish bin. There was a post box next to the bin, but if he hid behind that he would be in full view of the front window of Number 1. Mrs. Delaney would be sure to come outside and shout at him, announcing his presence to the world and the Order of the Phoenix. So he stayed, squatting, behind the bin.
“Well done,” Evan said, as he dropped a hand onto Harry’s shoulder. Two seconds later, Evan pulled him to the side, and together they spun on their heels and disappeared with a ‘crack’. “I am impressed. Or perhaps Snape is growing stupid in his old age? I didn’t not think you would make it passed him.”
“Then why did you-?” Harry questioned.
They had arrived outside of Kings Cross. It was busy at that time of the morning, and Harry had to twist and turn his body to avoid all of the elbows and feet and briefcases that seemed to coincidentally find his body. Evan had no trouble navigating the crowds. People seemed to instinctively avoid the man. He wasn’t Polyjuiced: he felt, that if Harry were caught practising magic, it would be hard to explain why a Muggle like Vernon would be actively encouraging it. Evan had planned just to turn into a butterfly and fly away. His car was parked one street over, in the event of such circumstances, so that way Vernon could just drive back on to the road and pretend he didn’t know a thing.
“It was a test, child. It would teach you nothing if I made you do things I knew you could do. That is the point of testing someone, to see what he or she cannot do, and then help him or her learn to do it. You did very well.” He paused, frowning heavily. “Would you like me to come through?”
Harry considered it for a moment. He did want Evan to accompany him onto Platform 9 and ¾, and to be able to wave goodbye to the man out of the train window like everyone else did. But it wasn’t practical, or safe. Having Evan Rosier, wanted criminal and presumed dead, turn up as himself in a popular Wizarding area was asking for trouble. Even as the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry would have a snowball’s chance in hell of saving his father from Azkaban.
If Evan had been Polyjuiced it wouldn’t have been such a problem. With the influx of Muggleborns to Hogwarts since Dumbledore became Headmaster in 1956, the Ministry have had to find a way to allow the non-magical parents onto the platform and passed the barrier, so that they would be able to see their children safely on the train in person. It was a simply idea, but ingenious. Most Witches and Wizards (well all of them, actually) were prone to carrying their wand on them at all times. All a Muggle had to do was be accompanied by a wand carrying magical person and they would be able to pass easily through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.
If someone saw Vernon Dursley standing beside Lucius Malfoy, the general assumption would be that the Muggle had followed close enough behind the Wizard so as to trick the barrier. No one would think too much on it. Plenty of Muggles saw their children off without consequence. Why should one more be different?
“No. You shouldn’t come through.” Harry said, softly. He leant forward, allowing Evan to tug him closer, and his arms wrapped tightly around the elder man for a moment and squeezed. “I’ll see you for Imbolc though, right?”
“No. Albus doesn’t allow holidays other than Christmas, Easter, and the summer period.” His usual drawling voice had turned into a whine, and Harry smiled at the frown that graced Evan’s face as he mentioned the Muggle holidays. “If you ask me, it’s pathetic. The Mudbloods are ruining our world.”
A sudden gasp from beside them had both dark haired Wizard’s heads turning to look. A family of four hovered beside them, and Harry recognized one of them as Stephen Cornfoot. Stephen was the only Muggleborn Ravenclaw in Harry’s year. The blond boy was lazy, and unmotivated, and he didn’t do very well in class in comparison with the other Ravenclaws (but he was naturally smart enough to do better than most of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in their year). He and Harry didn’t get on very well. On their first day of school, Stephen had refused to wake up and attend breakfast promptly on time, and so Harry had hexed him. Stephen had spent his first two classes in the Infirmary.
“Oh look who it is,” Harry drawled, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “It’s nice to know you aren’t always late for everything. And look! You even managed to dress somewhat decently this morning. Makes a change from every other day of the year, doesn’t it, Cornfoot?” Harry’s nose wrinkled in disgust. He was obviously being sarcastic, because Stephen’s clothes were rumpled and his shirt was untucked and half buttoned, and his shoes were scuffed and flecked with mud.
“I was in a rush this morning, Potter.” The other boy grumbled, a blush on his cheeks.
Another grin crossed Harry’s face. “Overslept again, did we? Surprise, surprise.” He turned his back on his year mate, and nodded politely to Evan. “Goodbye,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice toneless. It wouldn’t do for Cornfoot to realise that Harry was friends with a Pureblood, Mudblood hating, Wizard. He walked away without a response from Evan, and strode confidently through the barrier, his head held high.
Evan watched him silently. When Harry was completely out of site, he glanced once at the Muggles, and then disapparated, uncaring of who might see him. When his Lord returned, the Muggles would be made to know of them anyway.
And then the Muggles would know their real place in the world.
XXX
February 2nd 1992.
Imbolc is one of the four principle festivals of the Gaelic calendar. Most commonly it is celebrated on February 2, falling halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. Originally dedicated to the goddess Brigid, with the infestation of the Christian period, it was changed into St Brigid's Day. Imbolc is a festival of the hearth and home, and a celebration of the lengthening days and the early signs of spring. Celebrations often involved hearthfires, special foods, divination or simply watching for omens, a great deal of candles, and perhaps an outdoor bonfire if the weather permits it.
Considering it was a festival that was intended to bless the home, it was meant to be spent with ones family. But Dumbledore no longer allowed student to go home for Imbolc. There would be no reason to send the Mudbloods home, and it wouldn’t look right to be discriminating against them by making only them remain at Hogwarts for that Sunday.
Harry didn’t really mind. He was more than capable of convincing Draco and Theo to light candles for each of their immediate family members, and say the bless prayers along with him. When curfew was set to begin the night before, Harry had gathered the ashes from the fireplace and smeared them across the headboard of his bed, trusting Theo and Draco to do the same, and then left out his invisibility cloak, draped over the door to his dormitory.
It was believed that Brigid walked the earth on Imbolc’s Eve, and blessed those articles of clothing left in her path. If the ashes or fires that were lit outside of the homes had been disturbed, then Brigid had been there and blessed that home. The articles of clothing left outside were considered to have healing powers.
Ever since Harry had been given the cloak, he had been having nightmares. No one seemed to know why, because he had never dreamt of his parent’s deaths, or of Voldemort, since Evan had come to live with him. Lucius thought it might have been because of the Dark Mark, and Harry’s curse scar, the Horcrux inside of him, was attracted to the Mark, recognizing it as part of itself and feeling safer for its presence. With Harry now spending so much time away from Evan, and with his Light father’s cloak, which had been in Dumbledore’s possession for an inestimable amount of time, Dumbledore having done who-knows-what to it before giving it back, perhaps Voldemort’s Horcrux was feeling threatened? Lucius had insisted, quite amused by his theory, that the Horcrux was trying to remind Harry who he belonged to and what side he was on.
Harry wasn’t a fan of nightmares. Who was?
He didn’t like being reminded nightly about who had killed his parents, and about how he was thinking, planning, to join that same man. Nor did he like to consider the idea that Voldemort’s soul piece considered Harry as an object that already belonged to them. Harry hadn’t picked sides yet. He still wasn’t sure how Voldemort felt on the matter!
Harry had hidden the cloak, ignored it unless if was useful, but when Imbolc’s Eve passed by, he could resist leaving it out in the hopes that it would be blessed. Blessed items were meant to contain healing powers for the following year. Perhaps, it would heal him from his nightmares?
It was a nice thought but, since he wasn’t entirely sure that nightmares were a form of illness Brigid was capable of healing, he didn’t quite want to risk going to sleep early. If he had a nightmare and woke up, the chances were he wouldn’t get back to sleep again that night. But if he waited until later, until he was physically so tired that he couldn’t stand, there was usually less chance of him dreaming.
Harry had the cloak thrown over him as he wondered through the hallways of Hogwarts. The note that Dumbledore had sent him, along with the cloak, was clutched tightly in one hand. He had spent his last handful of sleepless early morning hidden in the library, studying, trying to make Evan proud and figure out the riddle. At the bottom of the page, Harry had wrote, ‘Mirror of Erised’. Now all he had to do was find it.
Harry stumbled across it quite by accident five minutes later. He had ducked into a corridor to avoid Mr Filch and his horrid cat, and when Mrs. Norris had come after him, Harry had ducked through the only door in that hallway.
The Mirror stood in the centre of the room, and apart from it, the room was empty. Harry walked towards it slowly, allowing the cloak to slide from his shoulders and pool on the ground behind him. His fingers reached forward to trace the letters engraved on the top of the mirror, and in his head he translated it, before repeating it out loud.
“I show not your face, but your heart’s desire.” He bit his bottom lip, before moving to stand directly in front of the full-length mirror. His reflection stared back. “What is it I desire?”
Lucius appeared behind him, and Harry chuckled softly. He reached out to trace Lucius’ face on the surface of the mirror, surprised to note that apparently his heart desired the blond Wizard.
“So this is the Mirror of Erised,” someone said. The voice was familiar, and despite the fact that Harry hadn’t realized someone was in the room with him he didn’t jump. Instead, he turned slowly to face Lucius, a small smirk on his face. “What did you see?” Lucius asked, as he turned Harry around to look back into the mirror.
Their bodies were pressed against each other’s, Lucius bending down slightly to rest his chin on the top of Harry’s head. “I see me, and you, and the wall behind us. Exactly as we are.” The child pulled away from Lucius’ touch. “What does that mean?”
Lucius chuckled lightly. “It means you are content, and that you desire nothing. It may change in the future, or it may not. But at this time, you are happy with your life.”
“How did you find me?” Harry turned around so he was facing his friend’s father.
“I came to spend the evening of Imbolc with my son, but I am told he is asleep. I used a ‘Point Me Spell’ to find you, since you were not in your dormitory.”
“You’ll have to teach me that spell.” Harry whispered, offering a soft smile.
“They teach it in later years at Hogwarts. But if you do not wish to wait, I’m sure I could be persuaded to instruct you.” A pale hand shot forward, brushing back Harry’s fringe, before allowing its fingers to run down a flushed cheek. Grey eyes drank in the look of surprise and pleasure on Harry’s face, the blush on his cheeks and the way the child’s eyes fluttered shut. “I would be happy to, in fact.”
“What do you want from me?” Harry breathed out softly, his chest rising and falling faster than it should have been. His hands trembled as he backed away, knocking lightly into the Mirror.
“Right now? Nothing, but that may change in time. Actually, I assure you, it will change, and I will want as much as you will give me. Surely you have noticed that I care for you?” Lucius had a smirk on his lips, and he raised one eyebrow in a silent question, as Harry blushed darker. “Do you care for me?”
“I am interested by you. The thought of you not liking me, or being disappointed in me, hurts my heart. It’s like with Evan, but not the same, not in the same way. I want him to be proud of me, but I want you to like me. Does that make sense?” Harry blinked his eyes, frowning and trying to make sense of his own thoughts.
Lucius longed to tell him, to explain to Harry, that what he was saying sounded like the beginnings of a crush. That it was as if Harry was finally learning to differentiate familial love from romantic love. But he had promised Evan and Narcissa to let Harry realise things for himself, and then to let Harry approach him if that was what the child desired. Instead, Lucius reached out to cup Harry’s cheek again.
“I understand perfectly.” He pressed a light kiss to Harry’s chin, crouching down so that he could hold his lips comfortably in that place for a full minute before drawing his mouth away. “And you will too, in time.”
“What do you think I’d see, Lucius, if my heart does decide to change?” Harry wondered.
Lucius took him by the elbow and begun steering him towards the door. Harry glanced back at the Mirror, just in time to see his reflection throw something round in the air and catch it quickly again. The colour red flashed through Harry’s mind, the light refracting off of the glass and the hidden object, and the boy suddenly knew whatever secret the Mirror was hiding was an important one.
But it was also something he was sure he wanted nothing to do with. So, he said nothing, and let Lucius lead him away.
XXX
A/N: If anyone is wondering. Tonks is 18 years old, and has actually just finished her final year at Hogwarts, while Harry is in his first. Tonks was a Hufflepuff. It takes 3 years of training to qualify as an Auror, so right now, she’s helping Dumbledore scheme because she isn’t inducted into the Order until she qualifies either.
GLARE EPIC GLARE! My power just went, and even though I saved beforehand, I still lost like 500 words! Word Recovery is rubbish! And I’ve also lost the notebook I had with all of my Quidditch notations in, so, yeah, no more Quidditch teams?
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Wow! Don’t you love it when someone PM’s you or Review Replies with “OMG, it’s you? Blah blah blah!” Seriously… my ego is swelling (more so than usual). I’m afraid I’ll no longer be able to fit it down the rabbit hole!!