Year One: The Philosopher's Stone (Ch. 7/17)
Title: Year One: The Philosopher's Stone (Ch. 7/17)
Series: The Letter Series (Year 1/7)
Author: Synteis
Beta: Mako-chan
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Draco in the future, mentions of others
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: Slytherin!Harry, AU.
Summary: Harry doesn't bring his Hogwarts letter into the kitchen and hides it from his aunt and uncle instead. One small decision changes the course of his life. Slytherin!Harry, eventually Harry/Draco (circa book four or five) and mentor!Snape.
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, between an exam and a vacation I managed to get away from this but thanks to some prodding from my beta, I'm once more in the swing of things. There should be another chapter out by next week.
Chapter Seven: Tea with Hagrid
Harry spent the rest of the week worrying about Potions. No one else seemed to have gotten so stern a talking to from Snape: Draco had been positively bubbly after his meeting, for instance. So, Harry spent the rest of the week going through his Potions texts, and he even popped into the library once in an effort to memorize the entire book in three days. His friends seemed shocked by his abrupt descent into studiousness, but all except Draco understood when he explained what had happened during his meeting with Professor Snape. Professor Snape hadn't been clear when he said what would happen if he disappointed him in Potions, but Harry didn't really want to find out. The threat of disappointment was a common presence in the Slytherin common room, which was why Harry's friends had accepted his worry. It seemed that all of them came from families with high expectations.
All except Draco, of course. Harry had started out studying in the common room, not wanting to miss the time with his friends. It quickly became apparent that this was not the best strategy, however. Harry's resolve to study had caused a rift between them, and Draco spent most of Harry's first evening trying to draw him into the conversation, and when that failed, talking as loudly as possible, encouraging noisy, involved games and otherwise being the most distracting he could be.
Harry had never been a big participant in the evening discussions, but it seemed that what Draco most missed was the attention that Harry had paid to him. Harry missed spending the evenings in the common room with Draco, free from worry, eagerly hearing his stories, but he had to study. He would have been happy to spend time with Draco, and he had decided to study in the common room for that reason, but it wasn't as though Draco had suggested that he help Harry with Potions. Harry still went through his new morning routine with Draco as well as all his meals and classes too, so Harry still spent a lot of time listening to Draco. There was only so much of Draco's pouting that Harry could take; however, and that was what led him to the library.
It was mostly empty this early in the year: all of the assignments that Harry had been given were quite easy to do in the common room and required, at most, the use of their textbooks. Even the upper years seemed relaxed.
Harry had picked a table a little out of the way, big enough for only four people and hidden by the shelves. It wasn't that he was hiding - well, maybe he was hiding a little from Draco, but he doubted that he would come to look for him - he just wanted to have some privacy. That was why he was surprised when a voice behind him said, "Oh, you're studying Potions too. That's so good to see. OWLS are only five years away, after all, and I just know that the assignments are going to start piling up soon..."
Harry turned around, once his heart had slowed a little, and saw Hermione, the girl from the train, standing behind him. She was carrying a book bag that looked like all her textbooks were squeezed into. She quickly deposited it on the table, all the while speaking at the same rate. Much like Draco, she accepted his nods and his stunned smile as encouragement and kept going until finally she finished.
Harry sat, confused and more than a little overwhelmed, and went back to looking at his textbook, certain that it couldn't possibly be more confusing than anything she had to say. Thankfully, once she began studying, she was quite quiet, and Harry found that by the end of the evening, he had gone through a whole chapter.
"It's almost curfew, Hermione. It was nice to... eh, meet you again."
"Thanks for reminding me. I get so absorbed in the material sometimes..."
Harry couldn't imagine being so absorbed. While some of it was certainly interesting, studying from the textbook for long periods of time was difficult, and he found that he had to take breaks. That was part of the reason he enjoyed studying in the common room, surrounded by his friends. As it was, every time he stopped, he had to remind himself of Professor Snape's words about disappointing him and disgracing Slytherin. He could imagine Draco's face as well if he stumbled in Potions; how he'd realize that Harry wasn't one of the "good" sort.
He walked back to the dungeons, stomach heavy, certain that he wouldn't get much sleep that night.
#
The next morning seemed too normal after all of Harry's anticipation. On one hand, it would be nice to finally get a chance to see and talk with Neville and Ron. On the other hand, he was still nervous. Even Draco seemed nervous that morning, if his fussing was any indication. But breakfast was quite typical. Hedwig came to visit him and begged for some toast, which he gladly gave her. She had a letter on her foot as well; the first Harry had ever gotten by owl post.
'Dear Harry,' it said in a very untidy scrawl.
'I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come meet me and have a cup of tea at me hut around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us a letter back with Hedwig.
Hagrid'
Harry smiled, pleased that Hagrid had remembered his promise. He took a sheet of parchment from his book bag and wrote, as quickly as he could with his quill, 'Yes please, Hagrid, I'll see you later. Harry', before tying it on to Hedwig's leg. Suddenly, his day looked much better. At least if Potions was awful, he'd have someone who still liked him and wanted to have tea with him.
When he turned to finish his breakfast, he found Draco looking at him strangely.
"Who was that then, Harry?"
"Oh, just Hagrid, he wants to have tea with me this afternoon."
Draco pouted. "But Harry, you've been so busy studying Potions this week, I thought we would spend time together this afternoon."
"Draco, you can come with me to Hagrid's if you want. I just didn't think that it was your sort of thing. Besides, I hadn't heard about any plans for this afternoon."
"Well, we were going to go the lake and play with the Giant Squid."
"Draco, we see the squid through our common room window sometimes, and if you wanted, you could change the view from your window in the dorm. I know you know how. You're the one who showed me how to change it."
Draco was still pouting.
"Draco, like I said, if you want, you can come with me to visit Hagrid. I met him on the platform here. He was nice and he helped with Bear. Besides, it's hardly like tea with him will take up the whole afternoon, and even if it did, there's still the evening and the weekend. We can go out to the lake and you can help me with our Transfiguration homework. I still haven't got my needle quite right."
Draco perked up at this, as Harry had known that he would. He had been the first one to successfully complete his Transfiguration, and mentioning it always made him preen. Harry, on the other hand, had the shape right and the texture, but not the colour: his needle was still tan with a red tip.
Draco didn't mention going to Hagrid's again, and instead began an involved discussion on Harry's problems in Transfiguration and on his latest adventures with the Giant Squid, which Harry had missed.
Harry was in a good enough mood that it wasn't until they were halfway to Potions that his stomach began to sink. For once, Draco was being considerate and he changed his topic of conversation from all of the times he'd made potions to Quidditch, which was distracting and entertaining, particularly when he began discussing in great detail the failure of the English team in one of the qualifying matches for the European Cup later that year.
He, like the rest of Slytherin, quieted as they reached the Potions classroom. The room had, like Professor Snape's office, many strange things in jars up on shelves that lined each wall of the classroom. There were many desks, each sitting two and the room was colder than even the rest of the dungeons.
Harry quickly dropped next to Draco and looked around, hoping to see Neville or Ron. Neville was already there, standing in a corner looking terrified, but Ron was nowhere to be seen. Harry gave Neville a wave and received a small smile in return. Unlike Neville, Hermione was sitting at the front of the class. Harry smiled when he met her eyes, in part because it seemed the polite thing to do.
Harry and Draco were sitting near the front of the class, though not in the first row like Hermione was. A large chattering announced the arrival of the rest of the Gryffindors, led by Ron, which made Harry wince and Draco look disdainfully at them. Luckily for them, no sooner had they sat down did Snape walk in. He looked more imposing than he had during the welcoming speech, and Harry's stomach flip-flopped a bit. Fortunately, the weight of his disapproval was firmly on the Gryffindors, and Harry, as a Slytherin, was therefore exempt.
Like Professor Flitwick, Snape read their names from a registry. He paused on Ron's name and sneered, but continued smoothly afterwards.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word perfectly- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you to bottle Fame, brew Glory, even stopper Death - if you aren't as a big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Complete silence followed this speech. Harry felt overwhelmed and nervous but also excited. He'd forgotten how much he'd looked forward to his Potions class after he'd visited the apothecary with Professor Snape. Beside him, Draco looked confidant and pleased, and even he allowed an exchange of excited glances with Harry. Hermione looked desperate to prove that she was not a dunderhead, while Neville looked certain that he was. Ron was exchanging glances with his partner, a Gryffindor that Harry didn't know.
"Weasley!" Professor Snape said abruptly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry's heart had started beating double-time, and he was glad beyond belief that he hadn't been asked the question. His stomach sunk though because, despite all of his efforts, he hadn't known the answer. A glance over to Draco and a small shake of Draco's head said that he didn't know either. Hermione certainly seemed to; she had her hand raised high enough.
Ron looked lost and terrified. "I don't know," he muttered.
"Hm, perhaps you should consider studying the next time you arrive late, especially if you are going to be so loud. Mr. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"
Harry gulped, but he remembered the apothecary. "The stomach of a goat, Professor."
Professor Snape nodded, and Ron looked relieved that Snape had moved his attentions elsewhere. "And Mr. Potter, what would I get if I mixed snake fangs, porcupine quills and horned slugs?"
Harry's mind blanked, but then he remembered one of the first potions in his textbook. "A Boil Cure Potion, sir."
"Correct, Mr. Potter. See what happens when you open a book before coming, eh, Weasley? For your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons. And a Cure for Boils is indeed made from snake fangs, porcupine quills and horned slugs. It will be the potion which you will prepare today. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
The room was suddenly filled by the sound of two dozen students rummaging around for parchment and quills. Over the noise, Professor Snape added, "A point to Slytherin for good study skills, Mr. Potter, and a point from Gryffindor for a severe lack of study skills, Mr. Weasley."
Harry was elated and Draco smiled broadly at him. The next time Harry caught Ron's eye, however, he looked furious. Harry felt his heart sink a little. He carefully wrote down the procedure that Snape had written on the board, but his elation was gone. Even Draco's smiles weren't enough to lift his mood, and he dragged his feet all the way to the supply cupboard, not willing to look Professor Snape in the eye.
This was rather hard to do as Snape was sweeping around the classroom, criticizing almost every potion he came across, although he seemed to like theirs and made frequent stops to compliment them on the crushing of their snake fangs or on the perfect way that they had stewed their horned slugs. Snape was in the middle of telling everyone to look at the colour of their brew when clouds of acid smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was sweeping across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools, while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. Draco began to chuckle, but a firm elbow in the side from Harry prevented it from continuing.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Neville's partner.
The rest of the class continued in silence once Neville had been taken away. No one else added porcupine quills to their potion before taking it off the heat.
When they finished an hour later, the class had lasted two hours and a half. Harry tried to catch up with Ron, but he was gone by the time they had packed up. He thought about going to visit Neville, but the Slytherins soon crowded around him, congratulating him on his first house point.
#
Harry was still a little down as they left DADA later that afternoon, and was surprised when Draco suddenly said, "I've decided that I'm coming with you."
"With me where?"
"To see your giant friend, of course, Hagrid."
"You want to meet Hagrid?"
"I've barely seen you all week since you were so worried about Potions. And it went excellent, so I don't see why you need to worry in the least. You won your first points for Slytherin today too."
Harry looked hard at Draco, trying to decide what he was playing at. Draco had barely met Hagrid, but Harry doubted between his accent, his size and his grooming that Draco was very impressed. In addition, Draco hadn't been especially positive about Harry's friendships with people outside of Slytherin for all of his begrudging approval of Neville on the train. But Harry had missed Draco, even if it had been he who spent the whole week avoiding him. For all that Potions was interesting and Hermione hadn't been as bad as she'd been on the train, he felt like he hadn't had fun much this week and it was only his first week of school.
"Okay, you can come. But, Draco, please be nice to him. He promised me that he'd tell me about my parents, and he was really nice about Bear and Hedwig."
Draco looked down his nose at Harry. "Of course I'll be polite, Harry. My breeding is impeccable. While I may have to bring my cloak to protect against the filth of his hut, I'm certain that I can manage."
They had to stop by the dorms to pick up the afore mentioned cloak. Harry had been hoping, without much conviction, that Draco had been joking. Draco had tried to insist that Harry get his too, but there was only so much of his snobbery that Harry could take.
At five to three they left the castle and made their way through the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden hut right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow hung by the door and a giant pair of galoshes stood below them. Harry's eyes widened at the crossbow, and Draco looked at once horrified and a little bit terrified.
Harry knocked on the wooden door, and at once they heard frantic scrambling and a few booming barks coming from inside. Hagrid's voice rang out, "Back,Fang - back."
Hagrid's face appeared through the crack in the door. "Hang on. Back, Fang!"
Finally, he opened the door, struggling to a hold on to the collar of an enormous, black boarhound. Hagrid looked quite surprised to see Draco. "Who's yer frind there, 'arry?"
"Oh this is Draco Malfoy. I'm in Slytherin with him."
Hagrid nodded after glancing suspiciously at Draco. "Make yerself at home, 'arry," he said, letting go of Fang, who quickly bounded over to Draco. When Draco didn't pat him and began backing away for fear of getting dog hair on his trousers, Fang's head dropped and he started whining. Clearly, like Hagrid, Fang was not as fierce as he looked.
"Very well, mangy dog, I will pet you, but just this once, do you hear?"
Fang looked up hopefully at Draco at this comment. Draco sighed and sat down, carefully covering himself with his cloak before petting Fang awkwardly.
Hagrid brought a large plate of something he called rock cakes and a few cups of tea. The rock cakes almost broke his teeth, but Harry pretended to like them and Draco, surprisingly polite, refused.
"How are ye' liking Slytherin then, 'arry?" Hagrid had a hard look on his face when he said the word 'Slytherin'.
Harry immediately launched into an excited discussion of his adventures so far. Draco's face moved from icy to smug and Hagrid became less on edge.
"Well, I'm glad that they've ben treating ye right, Harry. I have to tell ye', I was a little bit worried when ye were Sorted there. There wasn't a single witch or wizard who ever went bad who wasn't in Slytherin... But yer change all that, eh, 'arry."
Draco went white at that comment, and Harry looked around frantically for something to distract him. He hadn't liked what Hagrid had said, but Draco responding to it certainly wasn't going to make anything better. He caught sight of a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. There was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:
GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts' goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had, in fact, been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts' spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Harry remembered Draco on the train telling him that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but he hadn't mentioned the day. It was the very same day that Harry had been shopping in Diagon Alley, his birthday and when he had first gone to Gringotts. Why, it might have happened while he was there! He might have passed the person responsible in the streets. He remembered how strict the goblins had been and all the security that had been in place. Harry found himself glad that he had been with Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall.
"Draco, the Gringotts break-in happened the day that we were at Diagon Alley!"
Draco turned away from Hagrid and looked back at Harry. "Oh, yes, Father was most upset when he found out. Fortuitously, although some of the Malfoy treasures are kept at Gringotts, most are in other places. Still, I imagine they'll be losing a lot of business after this."
"It's very strange though that the thief broke into a vault that had been emptied that very same day. I wonder how the owner knew. I wonder how they managed to empty it all out. My vault was quite full. I can't imagine being able to get it all out without someone as powerful as that thief noticing."
"Well, there is magic for that sort of thing, shrinking charms and the like, Harry, but it might be that there were only a few objects in there. You never should trust what the Prophet says though. Father says that it's a rag. Of course, there are some who take it as truth, so it's important to know what the sheep believe."
"What do you think, Hagrid?" Harry asked, turning to look at him. To his surprise, Hagrid was looking very nervous and wasn't looking him in the eyes.
"Terrible business that is, just terrible." But Hagrid's voice was weak and unconvincing.
"Do you know something about the break-in? About the vault?" Harry asked, and Hagrid only became more nervous.
"'Course not, what would I know about a break-in?" He tried to laugh, but it was weak and very fake. Hagrid's eyes kept darting back and forth, and he refused to look Harry in the eyes.
Harry and Draco exchanged incredulous glances.
"Hagrid, what was in the vault?" Harry asked, trying to sound as confidant as he could. Draco had told him that the best way of getting someone to do what he wanted them to do was to be confidant and in control. Hagrid folded.
"Oh, nothing much, don't ye' worry. Dumbledore took care of it. Oh, I shouldn't have said that..."
"But does that mean that the thief might come here, to Hogwarts?" Draco managed to perfectly convey how appalling such a thing was.
"Albus Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in the whole of Britain, the only one that You-Know-Who was ever afraid of, Mr. Malfoy. Even if he had the Philo- whatever was in that vault, no one could get it from Hogwarts."
Hagrid sounded very firm but also proud, but the pride quickly faded when he realized what he'd just said.
"Now, boys, neither of you are to tell anyone what I just told ye'. Ye' shouldn't ha' heard it in the first place. I didn't tell ye' anything, ye' hear?" Hagrid was wringing his giant hands around a tea towel the size of a blanket.
Harry and Draco quickly nodded and promised their silence. When they left soon after, Hagrid was still looking quite anxious and had begun pacing. Draco managed to avoid it, but Harry had ended up filling up his pockets with rock cakes in an effort to apologize to Hagrid for making him so worried.
Draco had no such feelings. "That was brilliant, Harry! And what Hagrid said about the vault was certainly interesting. I'll have to see if my father knows anything more. He should know that we're in danger. He's on the Board of Governors; he'll be able to deal with it."
"But, Draco, Hagrid will get in trouble! Surely your father will want to know who we heard it from."
Draco didn't seem very convinced by this argument. So, Harry plowed on. "We could keep watch for the thief this year instead. Imagine how impressed your father would be if we caught him ourselves. It would be an adventure."
Draco was looking tempted by this, and Harry smiled, pleased that Hagrid wouldn't be sacked. They continued to the castle discussing what could have been hidden in the vault. As they walked, Harry reflected that maybe today hadn't been so bad after all.