Chapter Two

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"If you desire healing,
let yourself fall ill
let yourself fall ill."

-Rumi

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Harry's first instinct upon waking in the four-poster bed was to go completely still.

Heart thundering in his chest, it took Harry several deep breaths to remember he was, in fact, at Hogwarts again. A student again. It was perfectly normal to wake in a bed and not in a weathered tent.

At Ron's loud snore, the tension eased from Harry's body. Reaching for his glasses, he sat up and stared out the fogged window. The rain had stopped some time during the night, and a faint mist now floated over the grounds. Quietly, Harry slipped out of the bed and grabbed a cloak.

The castle was silent as he went down the staircase, the only sound coming from his slippers that echoed with each step. As he crossed the entrance hall the wall lamps feebly stirred, a dim flame flickering briefly before extinguishing as Harry strode quickly past them.

His hand was on the door handle when a voice stopped him.

"Potter?"

Harry turned. It was a Ravenclaw boy, one Harry recognized to be a year below him—well, had been a year below. They were both seventh years now.

"I remember you," said Harry. The boy looked startled. "Henley Corbet, right?"

"I—yes," said Corbet, his ears turning pink.

"You fought Greyback," said Harry. "I saw you. Just before he turned to Lavender Brown—I saw you." He paused for a moment, remembering. "Then again in the courtyard when Voldemort came to the castle."

"Y…yes," said Corbet finally. "When Hagrid was…was holding you."

Harry noticed the golden Head Boy badge pinned to his chest.

"I won't be long," Harry explained. Corbet gaped, his mouth opening and closing in a remarkable impression of a fish.

"It's…not allowed," he said half-heartedly. Harry watched him struggle for a second more before turning away.

"I won't be long," Harry said again, and turned the handle. He looked back at Corbet. "You did good, Corbet. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Without all of you."

Harry closed the door behind him.

The grass beneath his slippers squelched loudly as sloped down the hill, and Harry breathed in deeply. The thick fog made the path before him indistinguishable, but his feet guided him on instinct. Before long Harry stood at the edge of the Black Lake, staring contemplatively at the murky water.

Harry sat down and leaned back, his hands supporting his weight. The sun had still not risen but he knew it wouldn't be long before the clouds lost their darkness, when light would softly spread across the terrain.

Had he made the right decision in coming back? Already he was feeling—

Harry sighed, stopping the thought. It didn't matter what he felt last night. He'd made a decision, and now he had to stick with it.

"Tch."

Harry stilled. Whipping his head in the direction of the noise, he was shocked to see a retreating blond head.

"Malfoy?"

He blinked several times, hoping perhaps it had been a mirage. But Malfoy it was, the unmistakable silhouette and gait gave him away. Harry scrambled to his feet and ran towards him. "Hey!"

Malfoy stopped. Harry's shoes slipped a bit on the grass as he came to a sudden halt, just a step away from Malfoy's sour face.

"What?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry was taken aback. His mouth opened and closed, breath coming out in a visible puff. Malfoy stared at him a second longer, his scowl melting into something Harry could not understand in those five seconds.

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy turned around and stalked back to the castle.

Harry sighed. A splash came from the Black Lake and Harry turned to look—the giant squid had popped its head out from the water and little bubbles rippled around it, as if chortling. Harry soured.

"Oh what would you know," Harry snapped.

-:-

"It's a bit exciting, isn't it?" said Hermione cheerfully. She poured over her schedule—the very last schedule they'd ever have from Hogwarts—and smiled brightly. "Do you think classes will be easier, now that we've had practical experience?"

"Dos eff ma'ar?" Ron mumbled with his mouth full of pork sausage.

Hermione gave a disgusted look. Taking a massive swallow, Ron wiped the bit of food from his mouth with his sleeve. "Does it matter? We killed Voldemort. We're going to get 'Outstandings' in everything no matter how we do in class."

"Harry killed Voldemort," Hermione said smartly, "and giving us 'Os' in everything goes against all academic integrity! They wouldn't."

"Think about it Hermione. Who wants to be the professor who failed the Boy Who Lived Again? And the two best friends who saved the wizarding world with him?" Ron shook his head and speared another sausage on his fork. "It's just not going to happen."

Hermione's mouth parted to respond, but she glanced at Harry as if to say 'can you believe this?'

Harry shrugged, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "He's got a point. It's different now, for us at least."

Her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh…oh no…"

Ignoring Hermione's stricken look, Harry wiped his hands and picked up his schedule. "Potions first thing in the morning," he muttered. "Wonder what Slughorn'll be like this year."

Ron and Hermione nodded silently. It was a question Harry thought of a lot lately—what will the professors be like, now that everything has changed? What would the students be like, with him sitting with them? Something twisted in his gut and Harry involuntary glanced at the door, but he quickly squashed down the urge to bolt. He made a decision and he was going to stick by it. There was no use running this time.

Heaving a sigh, Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and stood up. A lull fell over the Great Hall, and whispers darted past his ears. Harry paused, looking in surprise at the dozens of eyes that were now fixed on him. It rooted him to the spot, and suddenly he felt ill.

Ron and Hermione scrambled to their feet, drawing Harry's attention away from the stares. Ron made an effort to be as loud as possible, snapping, "You'd think they've never seen someone stand up before!"

Ron's comment clearly had an effect; the hall was bustling again, and nobody so much as glanced at Harry. Something unfurled in his gut, and just like that the tension in his muscles eased. He even managed a genuine smile, knocking his elbow into Ron's. "C'mon, I want to get there early. We'll finally get a decent seat this year."

The dungeons were largely untouched from the Battle, but remnants of that night remained. Parts of the walls were blackened as if charred from flames—fiendfyre, perhaps. Harry remembered Crabbe using it…maybe he used here too.

Slughorn was sitting behind his desk as Harry, Hermione, and Ron strolled inside the dimly light classroom. He brightened and waved, giving a small "Harry m'boy!" before wringing his hands, then falling silent.

To their surprise, a flood of Ravenclaws entered the classroom instead of Slytherins, catching Harry off-guard. Ron seemed to share Harry's puzzlement.

"Ravenclaw?" Ron frowned. "Have we ever—?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, looking intrigued. "Not ever. I wonder why?"

"Dunno," Harry muttered. Harry couldn't remember a time when he sat in a Potions room and a Slytherin wasn't nearby. It was part of the schedule but more importantly it was part of Snape's routine, to dole out magnanimous House points to his students and to dock as many as he could from Gryffindor. Harry's lips twitched.

Once everybody was seated and chattering away, Slughorn stood up and walk to the front of his desk, velvety green robes swishing behind him. "Tut, tut!" He clapped his hands twice, and the room quieted. Slughorn smiled broadly. "Welcome, seventh years! Today marks the final first day of Potions. If you're here now it means you're either very serious about your career path, or Professor Flitwick had one too many bottles of sherry whilst organizing your schedules." The class chuckled, prompting Slughorn's smile to widen. "If the former, I am very proud indeed."

Hermione's back seemed to straighten further at that, her lips pressed together as if holding back a smile.

"I assume you're all planning on taking your N.E.W.T.s?"

The students exchanged wary glances. "Actually, sir," said a Ravenclaw girl, "there's been a law—anyone who was seventeen during the Battle at Hogwarts is exempt from N.E.W.T. examinations."

Slughorn's eyes bugged out. "Ah! Yes, I heard about that…silly of me to forget. Well regardless of where you stand in terms of examinations, this course will continue at an accelerated pace. I advise you keep up with your studies if you do not wish to do a ninth year!"

They laughed again, but Harry could not muster even the smallest smile. Something sank deeply in his stomach at hearing that last bit. He couldn't imagine doing another year of this, a ninth year—Boy Who Lived Again or not, even that would put Harry to shame…the Daily Prophet would only too eager to put it on a headline—The Boy Who Failed: Harry Potter, Hero or Dunce?

Ron seemed to be reconsidering his choice too—he was smiling weakly at Slughorn, but his eyes quickly darted to his textbook with unmasked horror. Harry wanted to reassure him that Ron wasn't nearly as rubbish at Potions as Harry was, but Slughorn already began the day's lesson.

"Today we'll be brewing a very complicated draft, and it will take several weeks to successfully brew." With a glint in his eye, Slughorn said, "Turn to page 116."

Harry flipped open his book and shuffled through the pages until he landed on an ominous-looking chapter. His eyes widened.

"Polyjuice potion?" Hermione blurted, surprised.

"Indeed, Miss Granger! One of the hardest potions to make and requires constant care and meticulous brewing. Yes, this will certainly test how good a potion maker you are." Slughorn withdrew his wand from his robes and flicked it towards the store closet. It opened with a gentle swing. "Anyone notice something different about the store today?"

Ron raised his hand.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"It's, er…empty, sir."

"Rightly so!" Slughorn nodded. "To be a true Potions Master, you must be able to scavenge the ingredients by yourselves. The textbook provides thorough explanation on where to find the necessary components to brew this potion and I expect all of you to collect them accordingly. I will act only as an academic guide this year. You will be on you own entirely." Slughorn shrugged mildly. "Also because of the nature of Polyjuice potion, it would be impossible for me to provide a classroom with the accurate ingredients as they should be administered. Now, off you go."

Begrudgingly they began packing their things and checking the list of ingredients in the Potions book. The Ravenclaws were muttering worriedly but did not seem too distressed as they passed by Harry.

Harry heaved a sigh and glanced at Hermione. "This should be easy for you, then?"

Hermione glared, but Harry could tell she was containing her excitement. "Luckily the full moon is three days from now, we'll easily gather the fluxweed—I'm worried about the lacewing flies, though. They need twenty-one days of brewing before adding to the actual potion…this is going to be difficult in a classroom setting…"

"As opposed to a girl's lavatory?" Ron smirked.

"There was a lot of creative freedom in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I'll have you know," Hermione sniffed.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron yawned widely, jamming his textbook inside his bag. "Where're you headed first?"

"What's it to you?"

"We're following wherever you go."

Hermione bristled. "Is that so? Do you plan on copying everything I do for this potion?"

"Of course we are!" Ron exclaimed. "You've done this already, you know what to do best! And you heard Slughorn, he'll fail us into an extra year if we don't pass!"

"I thought you weren't worried?" said Hermione loftily. "What with the automatic 'O's and all."

"Oh come off it, Hermione. Harry, back me up."

Harry was smiling when his mouth parted to reply, but the words never came out. In that instant a loud bang! resounded in the classroom as if an Exploding Snap had gone off. Harry's body reacted without him thinking; his wand was out in an instant and his knees hit the ground, crouching low with a spell already forming on his lips. His ears were ringing and his vision narrowed, seeing only the distance before him, the sounds and the smells and the thudding in his ribcage—

"Harry! Harry!"

Something was shaking his shoulders. Harry blinked, his vision clearing slowly. The ringing in his ears vanished; Ron was crouching before him with his hand clasped firmly on Harry's shoulders.

"Hey," Ron's voice was low, staring into Harry's eyes. "It's me, mate. It's alright. One of the Ravenclaw's bag broke, that's all. It's fine."

Harry glanced behind Ron and saw the pile of books spilled on the floor, and a very torn book bag resting on top of it. His eyes locked with the student kneeling beside the books, and Harry blinked.

It was Henley Corbet, the Head Boy. He was frozen still, looking anxious.

Harry's throat went dry. Hermione was hovering beside Ron and Harry, her hand placed gently on Harry's back. It was then that Harry realized a small circle had formed around them, the classroom standing still in deafening silence. He could see on their faces the same grim look Harry felt inside him every day. They did not stare but they did not shuffle away either; it wasn't until Harry nodded jerkily and stood up that they began to scatter.

Harry glanced down, muttering, "Let's just get the ingredients…"

Slughorn appeared before them, looking grave. "Harry," he said quietly, his voice full of concern. "Do you need the Hospital Wing?"

"No," said Harry a bit more forcefully than he meant to. "I'm fine, Professor. I just want to start on the assignment."

He could feel Ron and Hermione's gaze on him as they walked out of the castle in search for lacewing flies, but they said nothing. Harry's fingers curled into his palms.

-:-

By dinner the whole school knew what had happened during Potions. Harry walked into the Great Hall and heard the sudden hush, and promptly turned back around.

He declined Ron and Hermione's company, feigning fatigue and telling them he'd just head back to the dormitory. As Harry pass the doors to the Entrance Hall he paused, debating on whether it would be worth a stroll on the grounds. Harry was halfway to the doors when he heard the distinctive sound of banter and laughter. He turned back to the stairs.

Just as he was crossing the third floor, a sharp voice stopped him. "Potter."

Harry turned around in surprise. "Professor McGonagall?"

"I was just going to send for you," she said, and Harry caught glimpse of a note in her hand. "If you would come to my office for a moment."

Harry's stomach dropped. He could feel his face heating up when he said, "I'm alright, Professor."

McGonagall gave him a flinty look. "If I wanted to know that, Potter, I would have asked."

Wordlessly, she marched back into the third floor corridor to one of the Transfiguration rooms. The candles lit as they stepped inside, and Harry followed McGonagall to the back room led by a short set of stairs and a marble ledge.

Once settled in their chairs, McGonagall fixed Harry with an unreadable look. "Professor Slughorn informed me of what happened."

Harry stiffened. "It was nothing, Professor. Just a knee-jerk reaction. It won't happen again."

McGonagall inhaled slowly, as if piecing together what she wanted to say. "I have been alive a very long time, Potter." Harry frowned. He didn't expect that. "I may not have long white hair as Dumbledore did, but I am an old woman. I have seen many things. I have felt many things."

Harry said nothing.

"I won't sit here and tell you the horrors of my past, Potter, but I will tell you this. Pretending does not fool the people who care about you and it does not fool yourself. Denying that there is something…different…is a dangerous path."

"Of course it's different," said Harry angrily. "I know it is. It's not like I have a choice in forgetting that with the way people are around me."

McGonagall sighed, suddenly looking very tired. "You know what I'm going to ask of you, Potter."

Harry shook his head, his heart sinking. "Please Professor, I'm fine," Harry said desperately. "I'm fine."

"Why won't you consider it?" McGonagall's eyes saddened, and Harry gripped the chair tightly.

"Because—because I'm fine, okay, I'm—there's loads of people who've got it worse than me! I'll only be wasting everyone time if I—" Harry breathed harshly through his nostrils, a slight tremor shaking his hands. "I'm not crazy."

McGonagall stared at him for a long moment. Harry panted as if he'd been on a long jog, but he could not look away from McGonagall, hoping his meaning would bear through her mind. Finally, she said, "Until you are ready, then. But I am strongly advising for it, Potter. There is no shame in wanting help."

Harry almost made to leave, but McGonagall waved her hand. "Sit, I'm not finished. As of tomorrow, you will be Head Boy."

Harry's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Head Boy, Potter. I'm assigning the position to you effective tomorrow morning."

"There's already a Head Boy!" said Harry indignantly. "You can't take that away—"

"The currently Head Boy handed his badge in," McGonagall cut him off with a sharp look. Harry was dumbfounded. Henley resigned from being Head Boy? Harry didn't even know that was possible. "It is unprecedented, I agree. But I firmly believe you would be the best candidate next."

"I resign too," Harry said quickly, but McGonagall shook her head at once.

"I'm afraid you can't. This is part of the conditions I'm setting for you as I said I would two weeks ago. If you won't seek help, Potter, I'm going to keep you busy. Head Boy duties will be your new job for the next ten months. In addition," McGonagall glowered when Harry groaned, "in addition, you will meet me in the Headmistress office twice a week, Tuesday and Friday. There we will discuss you lessons and your plans. They will be short debriefings but they are mandatory and you must attend."

"Professor, please. You don't want me as Head Boy. I'm going to muck it all up."

"End of discussion, Potter," said McGonagall shortly. Harry pressed his lips in a line, feeling agitated. "Before you accuse me of foul play, remember your conditions are still fully in effect. You may leave Hogwarts whenever you desire, given you return before curfew and you do not let it affect your performance in your studies. I suggest your use this privilege to your advantage."

"I plan to," said Harry. "Is that all?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes." She opened a drawer and leaned over the table to where Harry sat, and placed a bright golden pin before him.

Harry picked it up and left the office.

-:-

It was not difficult finding him. Dinner was finished and students were filing out of the Great Hall, looking sleepy and well-fed. Henley was just heading to the staircase when Harry grabbed him by the arm.

Henley looked at Harry in surprise. "Harry—"

"Why?" Harry demanded. "Why did you resign?"

Henley's cheeks tinged pink, and he averted his gaze. "I…I'm not qualified. I don't deserve the badge."

"The hell you're not," Harry hissed. He fished the badge from his pocket and thrust it in Henley's face, holding it up with his thumb and forefinger. "You're much more qualified than I am."

Henley paled.

"How—when did you—?"

"Just now in McGonagall's office," said Harry. The students were gone and the doors to the Great Hall closed. It was only the two of them on the staircase. "If this is about—I don't even know what it's about, but you shouldn't have given this up. You deserve it more than I do."

"It's not about deserving, Harry," said Henley quietly. He sighed quietly. "This morning, before you left to walk the grounds, you said something to me. And it's made me feel like a fraud."

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What?"

Henley swallowed, unable to meet Harry's eyes. He was clenching his jaw tightly and Harry grew even more confused.

"You said that you—saw me, saw while I was fighting off Greyback—and I was, technically. But I'm not—I'm not what you think I am. I'm no hero. I wasn't brave at all. Lavender—she saved me. She—she saw him overpowering me, saw how I panicked and froze and she—she—for me…"

It was then that Harry understood, and the anger that had been coursing through his veins dissipated all at once. Henley's eyes glassed over, and Harry grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Hey." Harry peered into Henley's eyes. "She knew what she was doing, alright? She knew the risk of fighting that day. You're not to blame for what happened to her at all. Don't you dare disrespect her memory like that. Don't…don't…" Harry looked away, clenching his hands. "Don't hurt yourself like that. It wasn't your fault. It was Greyback's fault. It was Voldemort's fault. It was Peter Pettigrew's fault. Henley Corbet isn't responsible for anyone who died that day."

Henley nodded furiously, not saying anything. Harry was taken by surprise when he hugged Harry hard, sniffling. Harry awkwardly pat his back, going, "There, there…"

Strangely, the knot in Harry's chest disappeared afterwards. Harry slipped the badge in his pocket.

-:-

Ron was already asleep by the time Harry went into the dormitory. Quickly changing and brushing his teeth, Harry was just about to take off his glasses when he noticed a small envelope sitting atop his pillow.

Squinting through the darkness, he read the name scrawled on the corner of the letter.

Andromeda Tonks.

Ripping open the letter, Harry read quickly. His eyes caught something fall from the envelope, and carefully picked up what appeared to be a photograph. Harry's heart nearly gave out when he saw a tiny child in the picture whose eyes were painfully, achingly familiar.

"Oh," said Harry. Numbly, he sat on the four-poster bed. Written on the back of the photograph with graceful writing were the words, Your godson.

xxx

Hey there! Finally came back with a chapter.

I've edited the author's note in chapter one, and I suggest taking a look at it. I've amended my consideration, and after writing this story on my own for some time, the relationship it has naturally led to is not canon, but Harry and Draco. I hadn't meant it, but the characters did what the wanted and I am not one to stop them.

That said, this is extremely slow-build and the plot, as well as Harry's recovery, takes absolute precedence.

I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading and please, let me know what you thought so far!

I've no beta so all mistakes shall be sought and corrected over the course of the next few hours.