Harry Potter and the Perfect Depression

Harry Potter and the Perfect Depression

Chapter One

dragons lover

Harry sucked on his sugar quill an d pondered how knowing anything about the troll riots of 1528 would help him in the future. Following Dumbledore's death, Harry had become increasingly moody and withdrawn. He felt extremely guilty about the deaths that seemed to follow him like newborn ducklings. He didn't want to further hurt his loved ones. As a parting gift to Dumbledore, Harry stayed at Privet Drive for his entire summer vacation, despite countless pleas from Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and in fact, the entire Weasley clan. Having cut Ginny from his life, Harry did not want to be surrounded by the Weasleys. The only people he saw in the summer were the Dursleys. That was, of course, until the mail from Hogwarts came. Harry, who announced at the end of the previous year that he would not be returning to Hogwarts, had changed his mind. He thought of his own magical abilities and decided that, while he had been lucky in the past, he was certain that six years of schooling would not be sufficient. He had locked himself in his room as his own personal form of punishment, but decided that it would probably be wise to spend his last weekend in Diagon Alley. He did, after all, need to buy his schoolbooks. So Harry spent his last weekend in Diagon Alley, albeit, tucking himself away in his room or hiding behind newspapers to avoid people he knew.

On his first day in Diagon Alley, he only narrowly missed a run in with Mrs. Weasley, who entered the bookstore just as he was leaving. Fortunately for him, her attention had been elsewhere, and he slipped through the door unnoticed. Had she seen him, she would undoubtedly have insisted he return with her to the Burrow before going back to Hogwarts in his rightful place; with Ron and Hermione.

Harry threw his quill down, and slammed his History of Magic book closed in frustration.

"How am I supposed to concentrate on troll rioting when tomorrow I have to go back to Hogwarts and face everyone?" he asked Hedwig.

She merely hooted and continued playing with a dead rat she had caught. Harry rested his head in his hands and stared vacantly out the window, trying not to think about tomorrow, and failing. Out his window he spotted some familiar blonde hair. It darted around rather suspiciously before disappearing into a shop on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. Curious, and wanting a distraction, Harry left his room and headed for the corner shop Malfoy had entered.

He snuck into the shop, hoping to avoid anyone he knew seeing him; he wasn't sure if this was the kind of shop he'd want to be seen in. He realised he was right as soon as he entered: it wasn't the kind of shop he should be seen in. He wasn't quite sure what the shop was, but it seemed full of dark things. Malfoy, Harry noticed, seemed merely to be perusing; he picked things up, spun them in his fingers, and threw them back whence they came. Harry stalked him round the shop for ten minutes, trying to work out what he was doing lurking in such a shop. Though, given it was a Malfoy, he wasn't sure why he was wondering that at all.

"Potter?" a familiar, but slightly surprised, drawl came from behind. "And what is saint Potter doing in such a place?" Harry stood there, frozen like a rabbit caught in headlights.

It seemed like hours before he opened his mouth to reply. "What's it to you, Malfoy?" A rather appropriate reply, in his opinion.

"Well, wouldn't want it to get back to," Malfoy paused for a split second, and Harry was sure he had been about to say Dumbledore's name, "the Weasel and the Mudblood that you're in these parts."

"Oh, why don't you just shut it, Ferret boy?" Malfoy flinched, slightly, and glared at Harry. Then, in a sudden change of heart, seemed to decide on a different tact. "So, given you're in this shop, does that mean you've finally given up on those two leeches? Realised that even you could do better?" Harry faltered. He, of course, still loved Ron and Hermione. That love was the precise reason he was on his own right now.

"Whatever, Malfoy," Harry replied, lamely.

"Well, if you don't mind, I think my father wants to take me to look at the Firebolt Series Two." With that, Malfoy turned on his heels and left the shop. Harry left a moment later.

The morning came too soon for Harry's liking. He packed his trunk, returned Hedwig to her cage, and set off to King's Cross. He had decided to leave ridiculously early to avoid any run-ins with the Weasleys or Hermione. He got to King's Cross, with ample time and decided to hide away in a vacant compartment. The train soon filled, and Harry heard familiar voices; Ron and Hermione's, to be exact. He jumped promptly from his seat and shot into the broom cupboard adjacent to the compartment he had occupied. Harry peered through the crack, where the door didn't quite reach the jambs. Seconds later Ron and Hermione came into view. They looked in the compartment Harry had been in moments before.

"Ron, what if Harry doesn't come back?" he heard Hermione ask; obviously worried.

"Don't worry Herm, he'll come back," Ron reassured her, although he didn't seem too confident.

"But this is the last compartment and the train's due to leave in a couple of minutes."

"Don't worry!" Ron let out exasperatedly. "He'll come. Look, we'll search around for him later." With that, the two friends went into the compartment and shut the door.

Harry slid quietly out of the closet, and went searching for another compartment. Each compartment he looked in was occupied; most with people he did not want to sit with. He was walking up, almost at the end of the train, when he heard Ron and Hermione's voices coming up from behind. He shot into the nearest compartment, slammed the door, and rested his head forward until his friends' voices had faded. It was only then that he turned around to see who was in the compartment. He was faced with two sets of wide eyes and a third set which glowered at him.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? What makes you think you're welcome here?" Harry paused, mouth agape, and considered the alternative to staying in the compartment. On the one hand, Malfoy was a complete git. Then, on the other, Hermione and Ron would never think of looking in Malfoy's compartment. Malfoy coughed in the distance and Harry realised he hadn't answered.

"It's a free country, last I checked." With that, he sat down in the corner chair, farthest from the three boys. All of who were staring blankly at Harry, not sure how to react. Then, quite unexpectedly, Malfoy addressed Harry.

"Are you stalking me or something?" Harry stared at him, quite confused. His confusion must have shown on his face, because Malfoy expanded on his question. "Yesterday you followed me into a shop, and today you're jumping into my compartment." Harry was stumped; he couldn't show that though.

"Just because someone's in two places at the same time as you, Malfoy, doesn't mean they're stalking you."

"Uh-huh," Malfoy replied, rolled his eyes, and pulled out his copy of the Daily Prophet, which he was soon engrossed in. Harry pulled out some chocolate and began reading his Potions text. The only problem with his ambition to become an Auror was that he had to continue with the torturous subject.

An extremely uncomfortable train ride later they arrived at Hogwarts. It shone in all its former glory, but it was slightly unkempt. Dumbledore's death had definitely affected the ambiance. Although the students were as talkative as ever, an unspoken sombreness seemed to follow them all. When Harry got off the Hogwarts Express, trying very hard to avoid looking at anyone, Ernie Macmillan greeted him. Now, Ernie was a Hufflepuff, which says a lot about him. Not particularly bright or courageous, Ernie was one of many Harry haters/lovers. A prime example of this strange relationship is from the Harry's second year, when he was accused of being the Slytherin Heir and unleashing the basilisk. Ernie was the first to accuse Harry after he was found near a petrified Justin Flinch-Fletchley and Nearly-Headless Nick. However, when Harry saved Ginny and finally put the basilisk to rest, Ernie, along with the other Harry haters/lovers, apologised profusely for his accusations. So, as you can understand, Harry was not overly pleased when he saw Ernie. He didn't have much patience for that kind of person.

"Oh, Harry. Hermione and Ron have been looking for you," Ernie started, then, at the sight of Harry, followed up with apology upon apology. Harry tuned out, put his head down, and went up to the Great Hall. He waited in a passage just near the Great Hall until everyone was seated, and snuck in at the last minute. He knew he couldn't avoid Hermione and Ron forever, but he had every intention of avoiding them for as long as he possibly could. Harry looked at the teachers' table; he was half-waiting for Dumbledore's address, before realising, of course, that it would never come. Professor McGonagall stood up at the lectern and spieled off the standard warnings about the Forbidden Forest, first day of classes et cetera. At the end of this she sighed, and Harry noticed she looked a lot worse for wear; Professor Trelawney tapped her reassuringly on the back, and she sat down. There was a moment of silence, and the students looked at each other, unsure how to react. The food appeared, and slowly students began to fill their plates. After about twenty minutes the hall was as lively as ever. Harry, however, merely poked at his food, more depressed than he had been before seeing McGonagall.

At the end of dinner Harry was one of the first to leave the table, and he saw Hermione and Ron jumping up as he passed through the doorway. Still wanting to avoid them, he took an incredibly circuitous route to the Gryffindor Tower. When he reached it, he realised that he had no idea what the password was. Disheartened, he headed off to find somewhere he could sleep until tomorrow. He finally decided that the Divination room would be perfect; after all, it did have a mass of fat pouffes. Lying down, he fell asleep almost immediately. Morning came, and the light woke Harry. He realised where he was, and set off towards the Gryffindor Tower. He waited around the corner from the entrance for one of the younger students to exit. Fifteen minutes later, an excited first year exited the Tower.

"Hey! Psst!" Harry called out. "Umm... I forgot the password. What is it?"

"Oh," the first year started, then his eyes widened, and he began to stammer. "Umm... umm... it's ... err... Ho... Ho... Hobgoblin." With that, he ran away, intimidated and somewhat scared.

Harry rolled his eyes, said the password, and snuck in. He made sure not to go through the common room; Hermione and Ron may be there. He peered into his dorm room, noticed it was empty, and slipped in. He went through his books, took out supplies for the day of classes and headed towards the door. Just as he reached the handle, he had an epiphany. He went back to his bed, picked up a rucksack and put in a pillow, pajamas, quilt and left. On his way to his first class, Potions, he went to the Astronomy Tower. He decided that this would be the place to leave his things. After all, no one ever went to the Astronomy Tower. Sadly, his little detour made him late for Potions. He entered, noted that Ron seemed to have chosen not to continue the subject, let out a relieved breath, and sat at the front desk. Snape looked at him. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your delayed arrival. Now I suggest you set up and get ready to work. The NEWTs level Potions are not as simple as it has been in previous years," Snape was now talking to the whole class. "The coursework for this year involves some incredibly complex Potions. Many of you will fail within the first two weeks, at which time I will suggest you find another subject to pursue." With that, he began to write up the instructions for the lesson's potion.

"Potter! What do you think you're doing?" Malfoy's voice alerted Harry to whom he had chosen to sit beside. Harry turned his head in fear, looked at Malfoy, and let his jaw drop. "If you don't want to suffer for this entire year, I suggest you move before it's too late," Malfoy said warningly.

Harry looked at him, confused. Before it's too late? Harry thought to himself. We only have two hours of Potions, what does he think will happen? Just as Harry finished his thought Snape finished writing up the potion's instructions and turned to face the class.

"Look next to you, students, these people will be your potions partners for the next year." Harry looked dumfounded. Malfoy let out an anguished sigh, which was mixed with something else that Harry could not recognize.

"Nice going, Potter. Now I'm going to fail because you are mentally defective." Malfoy took up his scales and began to measure ingredients. Harry sat there, staring at him. He felt as though a train had just hit him. As if the year couldn't get any worse, he was now stuck with Malfoy for the entire year.

"You know, Potter, you mightn't be very good at Potions, but the least you could do is try and help. This potion needs to be finished by the end of the lesson, after all."

Harry took up his knife and began cutting ingredients; completely numb.