TW: lots of talk about harry's past abuse in this chapter
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DADA quickly becomes everybody's favorite class, excluding Malfoy and his friends, who's only reason for not liking Professor Lupin seems to be that his robes are frayed. After Harry's little temper tantrum (Ron's words, not Harry's) about the boggart, he was angry with Lupin for a total of about a half of a lesson. Now, he's definitely Harry's favorite teacher but, obviously, he's not going to admit that, so he's stuck just begrudgingly complimenting Lupin when Ron or Hermione say something.
Harry's other classes, however, are nowhere near as good as Lupin's. Snape is in a much worse mood than usual and it's most definitely because of the story of Neville's boggart, which had spread like wildfire after the class. He's bullying Neville much worse than normal and it's really testing Harry's ability not to lose his shit.
Divination was a bad idea in Harry's book. Of course, he only took it to have the class with Ron, but he's starting to regret not taking Arithmancy or Runes, especially because Runes actually sounds interesting compared to using your inner eye. The way Hermione talks about it makes Harry very mad about his class choice. Parvati and Lavender have started speaking to Harry in hushed voices, as if he's on his deathbed, and that's really not helping.
Care of Magical Creatures, after the action packed first class, has now become very dull. Hagrid seems to have lost his confidence. They've been looking after flobberworms since that first lesson and they have to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
At the start of October, though, Harry gets something else to focus on: Quidditch. The season is fast approaching and the Thursday after the start of the month, Oliver calls a meeting to discuss tactics.
"This is our last chance — my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup," Oliver tells them, a note of desperation in his voice. He's a seventh year now, meaning it really is his last chance, and Harry thinks he deserves to win it. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it.
"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world — injuries — then the tournament getting called off last year... But we also know we've got the best — ruddy — team — in — the — school," he says, some of his usual manic determination returning to him.
"We've got three superb Chasers. We've got two unbeatable Beaters."
"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," Fred and George say together.
"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Oliver says proudly. "And me," he adds a second later.
"We think you're wonderful too, Oliver," George says.
"Oh yeah, wonderful Keeper," Harry says, grinning.
"The point is," Oliver continues, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."
"Oliver, this year's our year," Fred says.
"We'll do it, Oliver!" Angelina says.
"Definitely," Harry says.
Full of determination to make Oliver's last year his best yet, they begin practicing three times a week. Despite the weather getting colder and wetter, Harry's thoughts are never swayed from winning the Quidditch Cup. Usually, they practice with a Crowd Cheering Charm that Oliver managed to find that simulates the sounds of the crowd so Harry can train his ears to hear over it, but now they've started practicing with rain sounds and crowd sounds. To make it fair across the board, the rest of the team manages to find charms that limit their vision just like a storm would in a regular game, and now everybody is honing their skills to match the predicted weather conditions on game day.
One evening, Harry returns to the common room, soaked and cold to the bone but happy with how practice went, to find everybody buzzing with excitement.
"What's happened?" he asks Ron and Hermione when he finds them.
"First Hogsmeade weekend," Ron tells him offhandedly, seemingly focused on whatever homework he's currently doing. "End of October. Halloween."
"Excellent," Fred says from behind Harry. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."
Harry sighs and collapses into the chair next to Ron.
"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," Hermione tells him, apparently not as focused as Ron is, which is rare. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."
"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," Ron says, still not totally in the conversation. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages —"
"Ronald!" Hermione says sharply. "Harry's supposed to stay in school —"
"He can't be the only third year left behind," Ron says, finally coming out of his focus to fight with Hermione. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry —"
"Yeah, I think I will," Harry says, nodding.
Harry hears Hermione breathe in to start scolding them both but she stops, a small oof leaving her.
"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" Ron says. There's the sound of shuffling papers and Harry imagines Ron is trying to build a wall between him and Crookshanks with his homework.
"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" Hermione coos.
"Just keep him over there, that's all," Ron mumbles, already getting back into his focused state. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."
"What are you working on?" Harry asks with a yawn.
"Astronomy," Ron tells him. That would be why he's actually focusing and doing it on his own — Astronomy is one of Ron's favorite classes and the only one he's always confident he'll get an O on. He says he used to stargaze with Bill and Charlie all the time, though he doesn't go out so often anymore since they moved to Egypt and Romania. "Have you done yours?"
"No. I was gonna get Dean to draw it for me," Harry shrugs.
"What's that about drawing I hear?" Dean's voice floats across the common room.
"My star chart," Harry tells him.
"Oh, yes!" Dean exclaims, earning laughter from a few people around them. "Bring it here, buddy, bring it —"
"OY!" Ron suddenly shouts, shooting up from his seat. Harry jumps. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"
Ah. Crookshanks.
"Ron, don't hurt him!" Hermione squeals.
"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yells a second later. Harry hears someone make a mad dash for Crookshanks but judging by the thud he hears, they miss.
Harry rushes over with his friends when they both leave their spots by the fire, confused but very curious.
"Look at him!" Ron says furiously to Hermione. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"
"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" Hermione says, her voice shaking. Harry feels bad but keeps his mouth shut. If he defends Ron, Hermione will be mad at him, and if he defends Hermione, Ron will be mad at him. He can't win either way. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"
"There's something funny about that animal!" Ron declares. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"
"Oh, what rubbish," Hermione says. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think —"
"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" Ron says. Harry hears a few people start to giggle and struggles to keep his own face straight at the sound of it. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"
With that, Ron marches off toward the direction of boy's dorms.
Ron is still angry with Hermione the next day and barely speaks throughout Herbology. He and Hermione are working on the same Puffapod while Harry and Neville work nearby.
"How's Scabbers?" Harry hears Hermione ask timidly a little bit into class.
"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," Ron says angrily.
"Careful, Weasley, careful!" Professor Sprout cries and Harry makes the educated guess that Ron just dropped his Puffapod beans onto the floor.
They have Transfiguration next and Harry is distracted from his planning of his argument for Professor McGonagall by a disturbance at the front of the line.
"What's the matter, Lavender?" Hermione asks when they joins the group surrounding the crying girl.
"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispers. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."
"Oh," Hermione says sadly, "I'm sorry, Lavender."
"I should have known!" Lavender cries. "You know what day it is?"
"Er —"
"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"
In the few seconds of silence between this and Hermione breathing in to talk, Harry feels his stomach drop because he knows he's not going to be able to stop the upcoming disaster.
"You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?" Hermione says carefully. Harry sighs quietly.
"Well, not necessarily by a fox," Lavender says, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"
"Oh," Hermione says. Harry thinks he's in the clear, but then Hermione says, "Was Binky an old rabbit?"
"Okay, Hermione," Harry places his hands on her shoulders and attempts to pull her away from everybody. "How about we walk away?"
"I'm just saying. Look at it logically —"
"Hermione!" Harry interrupts her. "Nobody wants to do that."
"Fine," Hermione shrugs his hands off her shoulder and walks past him. "But I still —"
"Leave it alone, Hermione!" Harry says loudly.
"I am!" she says just as loudly.
"What is all this ruckus about?" Professor McGonagall's voice says.
"Nothing, Professor," Harry says sweetly.
"Of course," Professor McGonagall says dryly. "Inside, sit down."
As the class goes on, Harry starts worrying more and more about what he's going to say to Professor McGonagall about his Hogsmeade form, but it's her who brings it up first at the end of the class after the bell rings.
"One moment, please!" she calls. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"
"Please, Professor, I — I think I've lost —"
"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," Professor McGonagall says. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."
"Ask her now," Ron hisses.
"Oh, but —" Hermione starts.
"Go for it, Harry," Ron says, ignoring Hermione.
Harry waits until everybody else leaves before he musters all of his confidence and walks up to Professor McGonagall's desk.
"Yes, Potter?"
He forces all of the jokester part of his personality to the forefront of his mind and begins speaking.
"Professor," he says. "Professor McGonagall, Minnie, if you will —"
"Potter."
"Right. My uncle didn't sign my permission form," he tells her. "We had an agreement, you see, and I... didn't uphold my part of the agreement, which wasn't necessarily my fault, so, personally... I think it's a bit unfair that I don't get to go. To Hogsmeade, that is."
There's a brief moment of silence before she says, "You heard what I said, Potter. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule. It would be unfair to the other students without their forms signed if I let you go without yours."
"Well, that's what I was getting to. If you signed it, then that would not be a problem."
"The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission."
"Oh, I guess I didn't see that part," Harry says.
Professor McGonagall sighs and Harry fights a grin. "I am not your parent or guardian, Potter, therefore I cannot sign the form. I'm sorry, but that is my final word."
Harry is no longer amused. "That's not fair. What about the other kids whose forms didn't get signed because their relatives are —"
Harry cuts himself off. He's never said it out loud, that what his relatives do to him is abuse, and the sudden realization that literally nobody knows about it has him in shock.
"Never mind," he says quietly. "That's fine, I get it."
He quickly turns around and leaves Professor McGonagall's classroom, Ron and Hermione following. They try to ask him what's wrong but when he doesn't answer after a third time, they give up. He's in a foul mood the rest of the day and Ron gives up trying to cheer him up halfway through dinner.
When Halloween arrives, Harry accompanies Hermione and Ron to the entrance hall where they promise to bring him a bunch of things back. Malfoy taunts him about the dementors and then Harry heads back to the common room.
He wakes up Beatrice, who is definitely not happy about him doing so, and climbs through the portrait hole after telling her the password.
"Harry! Harry! Hi, Harry!"
Harry gives Colin his best smile but it feels very fake.
"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Harry? Why not? Hey — you can come and sit with us, if you like, Harry!"
"Er — no, thanks, Colin," Harry says, grimacing. "Maybe another time. I've, uh, actually got some work I need to do in the library."
Normally, he might actually go sit with Colin and his friends, but he's really not in a good mood today and he fears he might be unnecessarily mean to them if he does sit with them. So, after lying, he has no choice but to turn around and walk right back out the portrait hole.
"What was the point of waking me up, then?" Beatrice calls after him.
"Sorry," he says.
Harry doesn't normally traverse the castle without Ron or Hermione at his side, but with the help of a portrait or two, he gets himself on the right track to the library, because he does have work to do. Halfway there, though, he changes his mind. He really doesn't feel like working today.
"What are you doing?" Filch's voice suddenly says.
Harry jumps and turns around before shrugging, "Nothing."
"Nothing!" Filch growls. "A likely story! Sneaking around on your own — why aren't you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"
"No form," he says simply.
"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" Filch snaps.
Harry walks past him. He doesn't head back to the common room, though, instead climbing a staircase. The thought of visiting Hedwig has just popped into his head when he hears his name. He takes a few steps back.
"What are you doing?" Lupin's voice says. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"
"Hogsmeade," Harry says.
"Ah," Lupin says. There's a moment of silence before he says, "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."
"A what?" Harry says, entering Lupin's office.
"Water demon," Lupin says. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. They have abnormally long fingers. Strong, but very brittle."
Harry hums.
"Cup of tea?" Lupin says. "I was just thinking of making one."
"All right," Harry says, feeling awkward.
"Sit down," Lupin says. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid — but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"
Harry blinks. "How did you know about that?"
"Professor McGonagall told me," Lupin says. "You're not worried, are you?"
"No," Harry shrugs. "I can necessarily see the Grim, anyway."
Lupin laughs quietly and Harry wonders how many times Lupin has heard that type of joke from his father. Thinking of his father brings him back to one of the many reasons today is not a good day. It's Halloween and it's the first time Harry has been alone with his thoughts... the first time the anniversary of his parents' death has actually bothered him...
"Anything worrying you, Harry?" Lupin says. Some of Harry's feelings must've shown on his face.
"No," Harry lies. He takes a sip of his tea. It's still scalding but he doesn't wince. He's used to having to drink his tea as soon as it's out of the kettle, otherwise he'd risk Dudley taking it from it. He's never had to drink cold tea, though, which is something he thinks he's lucky about.
"Yes," he says suddenly a few seconds later, setting his tea down. "That day we fought the boggart — why didn't you let me fight it?"
There's a beat of silence.
"Well, I thought that would've been obvious, Harry."
Harry scowls, his anger about the situation fully restored. "Just because I'm blind —"
"No, no," Lupin says, amused, "you misunderstand me. I know fully well you could've taken on that boggart better than perhaps anybody in the room, but I assumed it would take the form of Lord Voldemort. I didn't think Voldemort materializing in the staffroom would've been good."
Harry is shocked for two reasons. One, Lupin thinks he would've done better than anybody in the class. Two, Lupin said Voldemort's name.
"But clearly, I was wrong."
"Well, I thought of Voldemort but... in the two times I've met him, he really wasn't all that terrifying," Harry says. "I'm scared of him but... he's not my biggest fear. And then I cycled through a few things but I... I thought about those dementors and I knew it would be that. I hate that feeling..."
"I see," Lupin says quietly. "Well... I do believe having a dementor materialize in the staffroom would not have been ideal either. Perhaps if I find another one, I'll invite you to take a go at it without other students around."
There's a knock on the door that stops Harry from moving onto the next topic on his mind.
"Come in."
The door opens and somebody walks in.
"Ah, Severus," Lupin says. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"
Harry takes a sip of his tea innocently.
"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," Lupin says pleasantly.
"Fascinating," Snape says. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."
"Yes, yes, I will."
"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape says. "If you need more."
"I should probably have some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."
"Not at all," Snape says. With that, he leaves Lupin's office.
Harry raises a curious eyebrow.
"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," Lupin says. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex."
Harry blinks. "Why...?"
"I've been feeling a bit off-color," Lupin answers the unfinished question. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."
Harry nods slowly. Maybe if Ron was here, he'd be more worried about the potion and what could be in it, but he currently has other things on his mind.
"It's Halloween," he says unnecessarily.
There's a pause.
"Yes. It is Halloween," Lupin says.
"I've, um... I've never been alone. On Halloween, that is. Or — well, I have but not since coming to Hogwarts and finding out..." he shakes his head. "You were friends with my dad. And I've only got Madam Pomfrey to tell me stories and I'm angry with her right now so I thought... maybe I could show you my photo album and you could tell me some of the stories behind the photos I have. Because I've never seen them, obviously, and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't know about the pictures but... you would. Wouldn't you?"
Lupin clears his throat, "Well, it depends on the pictures, but... I would be more than happy to tell you stories about your mother and father. May I ask, though, why you're angry with Madam Pomfrey?"
"She didn't tell me Sirius Black was a murderer," Harry says simply. "Told me story after story about him but not once did she mention it and I think that would've been an important bit of information to know about my dad's best friend."
"Ah, I see," Lupin says. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey always did have quite a big soft spot for Sirius, I imagine it was difficult on her when everything happened."
Harry softens and then frowns, only feeling bad about his anger for a moment, "Still."
"Still," Lupin agrees. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about, Harry."
Harry tenses at his tone.
"Professor McGonagall conveyed her... worries to me and thought I might be better equipped to talk to you about it," Lupin says carefully. "When you were speaking to her about your Hogsmeade form, you mentioned something about it being unfair to you and other students whose relatives are... and, well, we sort of filled in the gap."
"Professor, I don't —" Harry doesn't know where he was going with that. He shuts his mouth.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Harry, but... if the word we put in that gap is correct, it is important that we know so we can attempt to do something."
Harry's eyes widen. "Wha — do something? What? Take — take me away from the Dursleys?"
"Perhaps."
Harry mouths wordlessly for a moment before he forces out, "The word was abusive, wasn't it?"
"Yes... Yes, that was the word."
Harry feels a burning in the back of his eyes that he hasn't felt in a long time. "I — you really think you could get away from them?"
"Well, I certainly hope we can," Lupin says. "I'll talk to Professor McGonagall about it as soon as possible. And I do apologize, but we'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey for a full medical scan."
Harry lets out a wet laugh. "Yeah, that's —" he reaches up and wipes his eyes. "That's fine. Whatever it takes, I suppose."
Later, when Hermione and Ron get back and find Harry in an unusually good mood, they ask no questions and instead enjoy it. Ron, Harry notices, seems quite happy about Harry's improved mood and this only improves it even more.
The feast is even more delicious after receiving the news he did earlier that day. Even Malfoy is unable to sway his mood with his taunting.
When they head up to the common room, Ron stops Harry from continuing to walk a little bit away from the portrait hole.
"Why isn't anyone going in?" Ron says to Hermione.
"Let me through, please," Percy's voice says loudly. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —"
Percy falls silent and his silence spreads throughout the entire group like a wave.
"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick," Percy says sharply.
"What's going on?" Ginny's voice says from next to Harry.
Dumbledore arrives a moment later, sweeping through the crowd easily. Harry, Ron, and Hermione move closer to the portrait hole.
"Oh, my —" Hermione grabs Harry's wrist.
"What?" Harry hisses.
"We need to find her," Dumbledore says. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle."
"You'll be lucky!" the cackling voice of Peeves says.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore says calmly.
Peeves wouldn't dare taunt the headmaster of the school he wrecks havoc in, so his voice adopts an oily tone that is no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he says happily. "Poor thing," he adds, not convincing at all.
"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore says.
"Oh yes, Professorhead," Peeves says, obviously delighted to have this information when nobody else does. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves pauses for dramatic effect. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."