Harry Potter and the Curse of Ages

Chapter 3 Settling In

Harry apparated to the edge of the Forbidden Forest somewhat north of the lake. "What now?" he thought, as he looked around the grounds. He could see that many of the house elves were working with Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Firenze to replant the parts of the forest which had been damaged in the battle. He wondered if he should offer to help, as he had caused a substantial portion of that damage himself. He made his way over.

"Greetings, Professors," he called, waving to them, and also nodding acknowledgement to the house elves who were hurrying back and forth with potted plants, various sorts of manure, and levitated cisterns of water.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," greeted Professor Sprout, "Returning to the scene of the crime, I see."

Harry was abashed. "I'm really sorry about how much of the woods I damaged. I just had to ..."

He was interrupted by a gale of laughter from both professors Flitwick and Sprout. Even Firenze had what passed for a smile among centaurs.

"Mr. Potter, you were in a battle," reassured Flitwick. "If you had started the conflict, blame would be yours, but you were only ending it. Relax."

"Well, then, I'll invite you to call me 'Harry' now since I'm no longer a student."

"Splendid, Harry. You may call me 'Filius,' unless you have come to like my goblin name too much."

"And feel free to call me Pomona," added Professor Sprout, who had looked oddly at Flitwick when he mentioned having a goblin name.

"You all seem in quite the good mood," observed Harry.

"It's good to be outdoors on such a splendid day doing something vigorous and useful," said Flitwick.

"Yes, absolutely," said Sprout. "And it's marvelous for me to get some variety from the exotic and magical plants I usually work with in the greenhouses. I fell in love with plants as a young girl taking long walks with my parents in woods much like these. I like all plants, but even a non-magical forest has a magic all its own."

Firenze nodded. "That is a heartening statement for a centaur to hear from a human. More of your kind should discover the magic of natural places."

Harry agreed it was a good idea. "I'd like to do that, Firenze. I never have had the chance before. And by the way, you sound as merry as a centaur can get."

"Not too loudly, Mr. Potter," he replied. "The forest has ears: a centaur is not supposed to be, as you say, merry. But you are not off the mark - the resolution of the war is as positive as could reasonably be hoped for. And working to restore the forest with those who respect a forest for itself is a good experience."

Professor Sprout took off her gloves and wiped her forehead with a large colorful handkerchief. "The elves can do all the carrying and lifting. Firenze remembers what every inch of the forest was like up until two and a half years ago, so he can tell us what should be planted and where. I get things planted and Filius is charming them to rapid growth."

"But not too rapid," qualified Flitwick. "Until Firenze explained it, I had not fully appreciated how every plant in a forest affects all the others by the way each vies for resources - water, soil, sunlight, pollinators. It's very much like a family or community - they all shape each other as they grow and live."

"Yes," said Sprout with a nod, "so we're seeking a healthy compromise. Some of the plants are charmed to grow to maturity over the course of the summer, affecting each other as they grow. Others will be charmed to grow less fast, so there will be juveniles as in an untouched forest, and still others will be planted with no charms, only fertilizer."

"A few areas will be left damaged," added Firenze, "since the occasional sites of damage within a forest are not only normal, but a healthy part of the process of renewal. There are plants that thrive when the sunlight can penetrate past the trees' top layers, and such plants are important to the creatures of the forest."

"Yes," agreed Sprout, "we will only restore the areas of greatest devastation by our plantings - the forest itself is the best healer of most of its damage."

"Some of the new plantings will not survive the winter," said Firenze, "but there is no way to know which ones. This is just as it is in any forest."

Harry nodded. "Neville Longbottom once told us that trees grow and die, and others grow in the place where another has died, so that the forest is always changing, but always remains the same."

"Longbottom? Was he not in the forest with you and Hagrid the first time we met, nearly seven years ago?"

"Yes, Firenze, he was."

"I would not have thought that fat, timid young human would have developed such wisdom. He has grown."

Harry smiled. "Yes, he has. Well, do you need any help?"

"No, no," said Professor Flitwick, "we have quite a system at work here. You must need to get settled in, now that you're to be an instructor."

"Yes, move along, Potter," said Sprout with a grin. "You'd only be in the way here."

As Harry turned back toward the castle, he noticed smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney and, realizing that Hagrid would not much longer be at Hogwarts, decided to go there. Hagrid welcomed him warmly.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Hagrid," said Harry.

"Course yer not," replied Hagrid. "Ah, you mean with me and Olympe. Naw, she's returned to Beauxbatons this morning. She'll get things in the works fer the wedding: it'll be held there. Of course, neither of us has any giant kin left to attend, but there are a few Hagrids out there and she's got some human kin out there as well. Of course, we both have school friends and members of the Order that we'll ask."

"Oh, good, Hagrid, for a second there, I thought I might not get an invite," Harry said with a grin.

Hagrid wagged a finger at him. "Now don't you go playing modest on me, Harry Potter. You know you're not just invited: I want you to be a part of the service, best man, if you would."

"Hagrid, I'm ... really honored. Don't you have anyone else closer, though."

"Closer? Than you!? Only Olympe. I considered asking Dumbledore for a couple o'minutes, but he's just, well, how do I say it? You've both done great things, and done wonderful things for me. But even though I'm so much older'n you, I feel like we're more friends, you'n me. I can't imagine teasin' him: I can't imagine not teasin' you. I'm gonna miss you something awful when I move to France, Harry."

Hagrid looked like he would start blubbering at that and Harry reached out and squeezed Hagrid's forearm, as well as he could, to comfort him.

"We'll be visiting, Hagrid. I'll come to France, especially if I play quidditch, and you can visit, too."

"Oh, yeah, I know, but I see how it is when people move on with their lives. The visits get rarer and rarer until it's just a Christmas card with a note added that's been copied for the entire mailing list. It's just been such a special time for me since you came here."

"For me, too, Hagrid. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it was when you came beating down the door on that island and gave me my Hogwarts letter. Even though there have been some horrors on the way, I wouldn't trade it all for anything. And you have always been one of the brightest parts of it all, a real rock and refuge for me."

Hagrid snatched Harry up and began hugging him and bawling loudly. Despite Harry's two years of vigorous exercise, he felt like he was being crushed until Hagrid put him down and turned away, rattling through his pots.

"Oh, where're my manners, Harry. I still haven't offered you a cuppa. I'll just have that for you in a few minutes."

"Oh, sure, Hagrid, that'll be fine."

Hagrid filled his kettle with water and pointed his wand at it. "Thermo!" he recited and when the spell hit the kettle, it erupted with steam. Unfortunately, Hagrid had the spout of the kettle aimed at his forearm, and it burned him. He dropped the kettle, swearing loudly. Then he held out his arm, which was already beginning to blister and peel, to Harry.

"Wouldja mind, Harry?"

Harry looked at it a second, and then up at Hagrid. Then he began to blow on Hagrid's burn to cool it.

"Naw, not that. How about healing it?" said Hagrid anxiously.

Harry looked sadly at him for several long seconds and finally said, "Sorry, Hagrid. No, I won't. I've had enough pain. This'll heal. Get some murtlap or a potion from Madam Pomfrey. I just don't want to take any more pain unless I really have to. I hope you understand."

Hagrid stared at him. "I never thought it would come to this: Harry Potter actually lettin' someone else take care of his own problem." Hagrid broke into a great wide grin. "I couldn't be happier that yeh said that, Harry. It's important you learn to say no. You're right - I can take care of this. Don't ever try to be everyone's solution. You just step in where yer really needed. Now, then, I've got some murtlap in that yellow jar on the top shelf there - how about you make the tea while I put some on."

"Oh, sure thing, I,...Hey, wait a second, Hagrid! Were you putting me to the test?"

Hagrid grinned. "I'd like to take credit fer the idea, but Dumbledore suggested it. We was both concerned you might overdo it with the healing thing and wear y'self out."

"I'm impressed you could scald yourself like that just for a test."

"What, this? Looks worse'n it feels. There's definite advantages to being part giant."

"So how many other times when we thought you had made mistakes were you carrying out a plot?"

Hagrid grinned broadly and winked. "I'll tell my secrets if you tell yours."

Harry grinned back, so Hagrid continued, "First thing I want to know is how you rescued Buckbeak."

"What!! Me? How can you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Come off it, Harry. Both Buckbeak and Sirius disappeared from certain death the same night and it was when you three were out and about. It took me sobering up completely from my celebration to figure there was a connection, but I'm not that slow. Besides, Sirius spilled the beans to the Order about you and Hermione showing up with Bucky at Flitwick's office. Even if he hadn't, the first time I seen 'im after that was at his house with Buckbeak being an upstairs guest."

"Okay, Hagrid, I'll give you the whole story - but I expect a fair trade. There's a lot of things at other times that happened that I still don't understand."

"Fair enough, but afore I forget, speaking of that night and Sirius reminds me I've got somewhat that rightfully belongs to you. Back in the stable, I've kept Sirius's flying motorcycle. I've run it every so often to keep it in good shape. I know you like a broom, but the bike'll pass in muggle places a lot better'n a Firebolt. Well, so long as you aren't flying on it."

"Wow, Hagrid, that's ... brilliant."

Harry and Hagrid talked and laughed about each other's secrets for over three hours over tea. Hagrid took him out to see the motorcycle and gave him a lesson in both flying it and riding it. As Harry had never learned to drive on muggle roads, he was glad to find that it had charms like the Knight Bus had to keep it from hitting people or things. Hagrid insisted Harry try to run into him, but every time the motorcycle jumped one way or another to avoid Hagrid. When Harry left he was feeling as contented as he could ever remember.

Back at the castle, Harry went to his new office and apartment and began unpacking and placing his things. The bed and bathroom were already prepared by a house elf, so it appeared he would not have to worry about linens and such, but he clearly needed to get many of the comfort and lifestyle items most people do without as a student in a dorm. First and foremost would be an appropriate selection of robes and muggle clothes: all in due time - he had enough for now and barely had an inclination of what would appeal to him or be appropriate in his new circumstances.

It didn't take long to place all his meager possessions. He kept his photo album handy: he wanted to have the picture of his parents and Sirius enlarged and framed for his wall. Then he sat behind his desk and nearly jumped a mile when he heard a voice behind him.

"Harry!" Sirius' portrait had said suddenly. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to rattle you." He said the words, but was barely stifling his laughter.

Harry breathed deeply for several breaths and then said, "Oh, it's okay, Sirius. It's just that after we hung your portrait above the mantle there, you weren't in it. I hadn't realized you were back. And it's very quiet in the castle."

"I knew you'd be gone a while, so I went and visited first with Remus and then with my great-great-great, erm - I lose count - my ancestor Phineas Nigellus. You know, he was a true Black in his purebred pride, but he never had that attitude of eliminating non-purebloods. Really, I don't think many of the family took it that far: they just believed in keeping to their kind."

"How about you - do you ever feel that way?"

"Well, of course I was raised to believe in pure breeding. No, it wasn't quite that - I was taught that muggles were ignorant, filthy, and loathesome, subhuman might describe it, and as for Muggleborns and halfbloods, they were supposed to be lesser sorcerers and the closer anyone was to muggle connections, the more they were tainted as well. The more I learned disgust for muggles and muggleborns, the more unthinkable being around them would be. In the end, though, I found I couldn't justify it on the facts. There are those who say that everyone's opinions are equally valid, but that's not so, not until you've checked your conclusions against the facts. Are muggles and muggleborns a different species? Obviously not. Are muggleborns and mixed bloods lesser wizards than purebloods? You and Hermione and Lily and so many others I've known prove otherwise. I was so very fortunate to have known your mother well enough to be shaken out of those unsupportable doctrines about bloodlines."

"If you had been sorted into Slytherin, you probably never would have known how talented a muggleborn could be."

"Right you are, Harry. Hmm, then I wouldn't have turned from the Black family ways and gotten killed fighting for the Order."

"No, you would have joined the Death Eaters and gotten killed fighting for them - or running like your brother."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "It seems we Blacks were running up against fate coming and going, eh? Still, knowing what I know, I'd rather die fighting as I did. Did I ever tell you how gracious your mother was? She was the sort that made you want to be the best person you could be, just because you'd hate to see disappoint me in her eyes - never disdain for the person, just disappointment in their choices."

"That's how I feel around Ginny." Harry smiled. "I wish I could have known my mother too. But at least I got to speak to her and my Dad and you across the divide."

"Does that give you some peace, Harry?" asked Sirius.

"Yes, very much so. We struggle to do what we can on this side. It was very comforting to see that there is something beyond this life which can be happy. I'm not sure how we would muddle through without that assurance."

"It seems bleak otherwise. Maybe that's what made Voldemort the way he was - willing to do anything to hold onto life and acting utterly without regard to what kind of existence one might face on the other side. As much as a portrait can be happy, I am, knowing that I'm happy over there with Lily and James."

"Someday, I'll join you all. But I'm not in any hurry, if you don't mind."

"You seem a bit at ends, Harry," observed Sirius.

"I don't know what to do. The only times here I've had nothing to do I at least had others to do nothing with. Everyone my age is gone now. I know - I'll go visit Remus and see how he's getting situated."

"Too late. Arthur arranged a holiday for two for Tonks for her extraordinary duties to the Ministry during the past few days, so she came and waylaid Moony. I was there when she showed up."

"Well, that's good, but it would take a while for him to pack: maybe he's still there."

Sirius howled with laughter. "Maybe later it'll take him time to pack, but right now he can't have five sets of clothes, and none of them are fit for holiday. His books and things are in boxes. You only cured him a couple of days ago - most of his clothes are werewolf-wrecked. Tonks dragged him off with nothing more than the clothes he was wearing and his wand, said she was going to take him to both muggle and wizard clothing shops and play dress-up with him half the trip. She was quite giddy about it - I know, hard to imagine Tonks giddy. She said that would be the perfect holiday for her. He didn't seem to mind the notion either: he had always bought the cheapest second-hand clothes he could find, both because he couldn't afford anything else and because they would just get torn up at the full moon."

"Maybe Remus should see about getting Gilderoy Lockhart's old robes. Lockhart doesn't need them, and it might satisfy Remus's taste for having something showier than he's had. I can see Remus in lilac robes, with silver trim, and a fuchsia hat, can't you?" They both howled at the image of their dear, but drab friend dressing so flamboyantly. "Well, good for them. They deserve a break as much as anyone. But now what?" said Harry.

"Dumbledore's in his office," said Sirius quietly. "While I was there, he mentioned that he'd like for you to be every bit as much a part of his life now as you have been."

"And who would know better about how to settle into my position as a staff member. Thanks Sirius," said Harry.