- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Characters:
- Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
- Genres:
- General Slash
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
- Stats:
-
Published: 10/16/2003Updated: 10/16/2003Words: 2,983Chapters: 1Hits: 1,232
The Changeling
Dragenphly
- Story Summary:
- Harry's been missing this past summer after fifth year, and something seems to be scaring him. Something more than the constant threat of Voldemort, or the death of Sirius Black. Bring in Ron, Hermione, the four Houses and a healthy dose of House Rivalry to make things even more complicated! This will eventually be slash of the Harry/Draco variety, but the main focus is on Harry's interaction with the other Houses. Can he overbridge gaps created centuries ago? And who or what is The Changeling?
Chapter 01
- Posted:
- 10/16/2003
- Hits:
- 1,232
- Author's Note:
- Claud - you make this world special.
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Chapter One: The Beginning
Lessons had not even been going on for one week, when Harry Potter was called into the office of Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Silently trudging up to the old wizard's chamber, he reflected on the fact that it was a Thursday. Sirius had loved Thursdays.
"Chocolate Frog," he said listlessly to the gargoyle, instinctively guessing the password. He stepped on the revolving staircase, feeling detached and distant. Time had no meaning to him anymore, and he could not remember if the trip had been long or short.
"Come in Harry," came Dumbledore's voice, and Harry entered, sitting down in the chair opposite the Headmaster.
Dumbledore gave him a swift once over, taking in the growth spurt Harry had had over the summer. It made him seem even taller because of the malnourished look he was sporting, whilst Harry's 6ft was actually not that extensive. Mossy green eyes looked back at him, with purple smudges under his eyes.
"Where were you this summer, Harry?" Dumbledore asked without preamble.
"Harry mate! Why didn't you answer our letters! Why didn't you come visit this summer?"
"I was..." Harry seemed to swallow "...detained."
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened.
"I asked where you were, Harry...not why you didn't go to the Weasley's. Or why you left your relatives. People have been worried, Harry."
"Oh Harry! Ron, he's here. Harry, we were so worried. What happened? Why didn't you reply to our owls?"
"Headmaster...I - can't." He choked on his words. Dumbledore scrutinised him again, and sighed in resignation.
"Harry - I know it's difficult for you, especially for you. But you MUST not disappear like that...Harry, you know how much is at stake."
Albus sighed again, as it became clear the boy hadn't listened to a single thing he said. Then Harry gazed at him and there was nothing in that look. Harry's eyes were dead.
"Headmaster...I didn't...I can't tell you. But believe me...I didn't want to...I just..." Harry fell back into his seat and was breathing heavily.
Unrest stirred in the depths of Albus Dumbledore's mind, but he stored it away for the time being. Nodding, he answered Harry. "Very well - but please, Harry, I urge you - my door is always open."
Harry nodded, and made to go.
"Wait - Harry, there is one other thing. Or two, actually."
Harry sat back down.
"I have invited Remus to take up his teaching again." Harry searched within himself for an appropriate reaction. How should he feel about that? Remus...was a constant reminder of Sirius. Remus...was also familiar. Home.
"Won't it be dangerous, Professor?" Albus nodded, but smiled reassuringly.
"Rest assured, Harry - Fudge is quite keen to smooth over any arguments, since he believes I am still angry at him." The Headmaster's eyes lit up a bit.
"The poor man has no knowledge of people whatsoever..."
"And the second...?" Harry was itching to go and sleep. Sleep was the only thing that brought him relative calm nowadays.
"Ah yes...you undoubtedly remember the Sorting Hat's song from last year?" Harry glanced at the ragged hat, sitting on Dumbledore's desk, towards the edge. He nodded.
"And you will have noticed a similar message this year, no doubt?" Again, Harry nodded his head, remembering also Dumbledore's previous speeches.
"We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."
"Take caution, Harry. You cannot do it alone of course - but it is a fact people look up to you. Whether you like it or not, you are an example. Carry that with pride, Harry."
Dumbledore nodded and Harry knew it was a dismissal.
Walking in long strides back to the common room, he paused before the portrait. 'Strong as we are united, weak as we stand divided.' Harry was strong...he would...he would overcome. Would forget. Would heal. And then, he thought coldly and with deadly certainty, he would kill Voldemort.
He stepped into through the portrait hole and felt as if he'd submerged in a nice hot bath. The fire was crackling merrily, and the overall mood was pleasant, happy. It was encouraging to say the least.
"Harry!" He turned to see Ginny waving him over to a couch near the back of the room, where she was huddled with Hermione and Neville.
"Hey," he said softly as he slid onto the couch. They smiled at him, warm loving smiles, and it was okay. The darkness inside him hammered bitterly against its confines, wanting to lash out at happiness, to destroy this sense of camaraderie when Harry felt there was nothing happy in the world, but he pushed it away. Some things were not for now.
His friends laughed and talked, never trying to pull Harry into the conversation, having found out in the past few days the slender boy preferred to listen.
Hermione looked up from the conversation and glanced at Harry. He hadn't really changed that much, she thought. He had lost his youth, but really, he had lost that ages ago. He had grown up but...or yes. Wait a minute. Hermione observed Harry closely; who for once was unaware.
He had grown, and stood at a nice five foot eleven. His hair had grown along with him. It now curled girlishly in inky locks around his ears. Hermione smiled at the pretty picture Harry presented. Harry could be breathtaking when he wanted to be, she thought.
But she also paid attention to the smaller details. Harry rarely spoke anymore. He preferred to listen, and watch. When he did speak, he spoke softly, but with a compelling air. You found yourself having to listen to him, to hear him. His voice was musical, but almost always melancholy nowadays.
Harry hurt. Hermione was sure of it. Harry hurt incredibly inside, and the girl was becoming increasingly frustrated that there was nothing she could do. Nothing, except be his friend. It seemed Harry was actually pulling more towards her, wanting to be with her always, studying with her in the library, completing all of his homework with her. And Ron, though he didn't like it, was being dragged along, kicking and screaming.
But Harry also brought books back from the library, thick books on spells that he and Hermione read in the evening. They tested each other in the new charms and hexes they learnt, and although it was completely selfish of her, Hermione desperately hoped that Harry would stay like this.
Harry laughed a lot less. He smiled a lot nowadays, but he never laughed uproariously, like he had before. It seemed Harry had become more introverted, keeping an amazing control on what he let show to the outside world.
Hermione pursed her lips and those around her knew it as her thinking face. Then, breaking into the conversation she had not been following, she turned to Harry.
"Harry, come upstairs with me for a bit? I've just gotten a new book I ordered." Harry smiled and dipped his head in acquiescence.
He followed her up the stairs to the 6th year girls' dormitory. It was quiet, and a lot less messy than theirs, Harry mused.
Hermione turned around and looked at him. "Harry - what happened this summer? Why did you not answer our owls? Why didn't you come stay at Ron's? Why did you disappear?"
Darkness crept into Harry again, making his heart triple in speed, and causing agonising memories to resurface.
"Come now Harry. Come and play..."
He shivered. Those memories had no business here. They couldn't get him here, no matter how their slimy fingers reached for him.
"Hermione..." It was a drawn out whisper. "Herm...please. Not yet. I can't." Hermione's eyes softened. Crushing her best friend to her, she ran her fingers through his wild hair. Harry was like an untameable animal, she thought. All arms and legs and fierce, sinewy beauty. But since...since Sirius, someone had doused the flame. But Harry if was dealing with it, then so should she.
"I understand. I understand...Harry. Just...don't shut me out. Please. Don't ever shut me out."
Harry buried himself deeper in her familiar, comforting scent. It reminded him of loyalty and security. He nodded, and they stood like that for a while, before Harry left to go to bed.
Ron was in the dormitory getting ready for bed.
"Hey mate." He smiled at Harry, and Harry smiled back. Unspoken understanding passed between them and nothing more was said. Both slipped under the covers, and only then did Dumbledore's words echo back through Harry's mind.
Thinking about Hermione and Ron, his two best friends, who gave him space to be whoever he wanted, who understood, who accepted...that was worth fighting for. Divided, they would accomplish nothing, and right then and there, Harry vowed to make sure Hogwarts would be a unified front, a strong resistance against the dark.
The hate inside him bubbled, but he blocked it again. There was a time and a place for everything, he thought, and some things were not ready to see the light of day yet. Saturday. After tomorrow, he would start, trying his hardest to bridge the gaps created centuries ago.
And he would have to start right at the heart of the problem.
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The morning of Saturday found Harry pacing nervously in the common room. He was really going to do this. He bit his lip. Or not. Berating himself for being a coward he made a decision and stepped through the opening into the hall.
For Hermione and Ron. For Sirius. For Cedric. He made his way down the stairs, through corridors, past the Great Hall. By then his feet had figured out where he wanted to go and Harry walked on autopilot.
Finally, he stood in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
This was it. He was here now; he may as well do something about it. Feeling the gloomy depressing surroundings begin to take hold of it, he was rather desperate to enter the common room. Seeing as there wasn't any other way, Harry did the only thing he could think of and knocked.
He waited a few minutes. Nothing happened, and he was half-relieved, turning to go.
"Potter?" He turned back. Goyle was standing in the opening, looking at Potter incredulously.
"What. Are. YOU. Doing. Here?" If Goyle's eyebrows were raised any further, they might just disappear into his hairline, Harry thought. Now that he was actually confronted with the Slytherins, he had no idea how to even start beginning.
"I..." Goyle snorted and looked like he wanted to close the door when a female voice stopped him.
"Gregory, have you forgotten your manners? When someone knocks, you generally let him or her in." Goyle scowled slightly.
"But it's Potter." He threw Harry another wary glance.
"And he knocked. So let him in." And wonder above wonder, Goyle stepped away from the entrance to let Harry past.
It was nice and cosy in the Slytherin common room. The ceiling was still low, but the greenish lamps were more friendly than eerie, and the fire heated up the room. The carpets on the floor looked thick and welcoming, and like the Gryffindor common room, the general atmosphere was genial. Or it was until Harry stepped in.
Most Slytherins turned and gazed upon him with distrust. Their eyes made him uncomfortable, and he jumped when the entrance slid back into place with a dull thud. Goyle brushed past him and threw himself into a seat next to the fire, staring at him.
"What do you want, Potter?" He asked him gruffly. That's the second time he's said a whole sentence, Harry mused. Maybe I haven't been giving him enough credit. This time Harry was ready.
"I came to see how the other side lived." Mutterings followed this statement, and more glares followed those. Harry sighed. There was just no pleasing some people.
"Come here, Potter." The female voice called out again, and he made his way towards the couch next to Goyle's chair.
Pansy Parkinson was sitting curled up under a blanket, regarding him warily, but there was also curiosity in her face. She motioned for him to sit, and he did, sinking into the surprisingly comfortable couch.
"Alright people, show's over!" Pansy's voice was not unfriendly, but there was a finality that made most of the students return to their activities. She turned her blue eyes back on Harry.
"So Potter...come to see how the other side lives, huh?" Harry nodded and Pansy continued looking. Goyle had been fidgeting in his chair, and now it seemed he couldn't restrain himself.
"Pan, what are you doing - this is Potter for crying out loud. He could be planning some elaborate trick, and what will Draco say when he finds out you're...you're fraternising with enemy!"
Harry remembered fourth year, when Ron had said something similar to Hermione, and almost smiled.
"I'm not planning anything." He said, but if he aimed to reassure Goyle he was met with disbelief.
"Oh yes, Potter, because I'm really going to believe that after all these years." Goyle threw Harry a disgusted look.
Harry merely closed his eyes. He was tired. He should've known nothing would be that easy, but something had still wanted him to try.
"Where's your side-kick?" Pansy questioned, after what seemed like an eternity. Harry shrugged.
"I'm not his keeper. We're different people, we have different lives. And right now, I came to see you."
"We're flattered, really." Goyle sneered. Pansy put a hand on Goyle's arm and squeezed it gently, before turning back to Harry.
"You're lucky Draco isn't here. You wouldn't have made it past the entrance." Smiling guiltily, Harry looked at her.
"I...I know. I saw him and Crabbe in the library. I figured it was safe." Despite himself, Goyle snorted and Harry offered a rueful grin.
Again, silence reigned and Harry realised to his shock he didn't feel particularly uncomfortable. Looking around, he examined the common room, realising that once there had been a chance that he would've been at home here. That he would've belonged here.
"Not liking our common room, Potter?" Goyle asked him bitterly.
"No. No, I was just thinking that this was almost my common room." Pansy raised her head again from her magazine and Goyle stared at Harry.
"Your common room?" Harry nodded; noticing Pansy was looking at him expectantly.
"I was almost sorted into Slytherin." Both Slytherins gave him incredulous looks.
"You? Were almost sorted into Slytherin?"
"Slytherin? You? Why not...?" Turning to Pansy, he dutifully answered her question.
"Malfoy. And...and I'd heard stories." Goyle growled and Pansy looked bitter.
"Oh yes, about every Slytherin being a potential Dark Lord, and Slytherin's being evil and set on world domination." Pansy glared across his shoulder.
"Doesn't it go something like that, Potter?" Harry took a while to answer.
"That's how it went, yes. But...recently I've come to the conclusion that word-of-mouth is unreliable." Goyle snorted again.
"So I came to see for myself." Pansy looked at him with something akin to amazement. Then she started laughing softly and shaking her head.
"Only you, Potter, only you." Goyle looked at her confused, then glared at Harry as if it were somehow his fault. Even Harry was slightly surprised by the girl's outburst.
"Potter...no one else would wake up one day and decide - you know what? I haven't got proof Slytherins are evil - I think I'll just head down to the dungeons and see for myself..." She started giggling again, and Harry was amused to find himself smiling along with her.
Goyle seemed to be deep in thought, and Harry thought nothing of it whilst he settled into comfortable quietness, with Pansy reading her magazine. Then however, Goyle suddenly stood in front of Harry, and held out his hand.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Gregory Goyle." Harry stared in surprise at the boy, a bit confused at what he was doing. Suddenly, it hit him. Goyle was giving him an opening. Something that Harry had been desperately trying to convey but didn't know how to put into words. And here was Goyle, making it so easy. I have grossly underestimated him, Harry thought before realizing something else. This was the second time a Slytherin had held out his hand for Harry to take.
Deep silence reigned, in the Slytherin common room as all turned to watch the strange occurrence. What will you do, Harry? His mind whispered. What will you do...? Goyle looked slightly disappointed and began to lower his hand, when Harry's rose and grasped the other in a firm handclasp.
"I'm Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
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"Harry!" Ron came rushing into the boys' dormitory to find Harry sitting on his bed, reading a book.
"Harry, mate, I've been looking all over for you - where have you been?" Harry smiled mysteriously before grinning at his best friend.
"I got rid of some preconceptions." Ron gave him an odd look, but decided to let it go in light of sharing his own news.
"Harry! I've been made Quidditch Captain!" His face glowed with pride and happiness was shining from his eyes. Harry immediately stood up and hugged the taller boy.
"Merlin, Ron, that's fantastic! That's the best choice they could've made! Now you can definitely put all those strategies you were working on in action!" Ron nodded, a silly grin plastered firmly on his face, before grabbing Harry's sleeve and yanking him out of the door.
"Come on, let's go find Hermione!" Being dragged after his ecstatic best friend, Harry's darkness seemed to wear away a little bit more, and he smiled. Ron completely deserved it.
That night, thoroughly exhausted by the activities of the day, Harry dreamt of silver and gold banners, of snakes and lions intertwined, and for once, it was enough to keep the nightmare at bay.