Harry didn’t like it when he was put in uncomfortable situations. He liked to know what was going to happen and be prepared. But the whole day had been filled with anxious nerves about this meeting. His friends had tried to offer support, as did Harvey, but he found himself becoming concerned that by the end of the day, he wouldn’t be allowed to return to Hogwarts. His wand would be snapped, and his apprenticeship ended.
Snape had informed Harry a week before that a member of the Ministry would be coming to speak with him. It would be an assessment to determine if Harry was stable enough to continue his studies and be trusted with a wand.
He had felt like he had made large strides within the past two weeks; his relationship with his father was closer than ever, Sirius would send him a letter every few days just to check in; Harry was spending time with Harvey, finding that they could get along and enjoy being brothers; and he had never felt lighter, the weight on his shoulders seemed to have lifted. The only thing he hadn’t done—because he was still debating it—was facing his mother. No one had mentioned it, not even Harvey. In fact, Harvey seemed to try and avoid mentioning their mother altogether.
Even his relationship with Fleur had seemed to flourish. She had responded to his letter and encouraged him to keep taking steps. She had also mentioned that she missed him as much as he missed her, and they agreed to see one another as soon as possible. Harry wasn’t sure when that would be, but they wrote to each other as often as they could.
But the assessment loomed closer and closer until it finally arrived. Harry was escorted to the Ministry by his father and met with Annabel Winters. Sirius shook her hand before introducing them. Annabel was a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, long red hair—very similar to his mother’s—with blue eyes. She had offered Harry a wide smile, which she probably meant to be welcoming, but it just filled Harry with dread.
Annabel led Harry into her office while Sirius waited outside. The room was a decent size; one wall was a large bookshelf that was overflowing, pictures were scattered about the shelves and a few different plants. Her desk stood near the back, a large wooden L shaped piece that was meticulously organized with a hot tea steaming.
Annabel directed Harry to take a seat on the small sofa that sat in the centre of the room, and as he did, he watched as she collected a folder from her desk before taking a seat opposite him. She flipped it open before looking up at him.
“So, Harrison—or do you prefer Harry?” asked Annabel.
“Both are fine, Miss Winters,” said Harry.
Annabel nodded. “Very well, Harry. You may call me Annabel or Anna if you’d like. No need to be formal.”
“I was raised to be respectful of those older than me.”
Annabel smiled. “Understandable, but while we talk, I don’t want you to look at me as some sort of authority figure. I want you to be comfortable.”
“I would be comfortable if we didn’t need to do this.” Harry looked around the room; he couldn’t relax on the sofa.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” she asked.
Harry frowned. “The unnecessary prying into my life is what makes me uncomfortable.”
“Is it unnecessary, though?” questioned Annabel, “According to the report, you have two accidental bursts of magic on Christmas day and then accidentally apparated to another country. A young wizard of your age should be more than capable of controlling your magic.”
“Accidents happen.” He clenched his hands together.
She nodded slowly and crossed her legs. “That they do. But cases like yours are rare, Harry. And I’m not here to make your life more difficult; in fact, I want to make sure that you are being taken care of. If you have another accidental burst, what’s to stop it from hurting someone you love or some innocent bystander on the street. And if you expose yourself to muggles, it could cause all sorts of trouble. And then there is also you, what if next time you accidentally apparate, you kill yourself?”
It had crossed his mind. He could have died on Christmas day. Instead, he met Fleur. After doing so, he finds that he would risk his life to see her again, without question. But then he had also hurt someone, Harvey.
Annabel tilted her head and watched him. She said, “Harry, all I’m going to do is ask you some questions. Let’s get through these and then worry about what’s next? Is that alright?”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Sure.”
“Tell me what happened before the incidents on Christmas?” she asked.
“I was playing chess with my Godfather.”
“Were you upset? Did something startle you?”
“He wanted me to open up about my feelings regarding my brother.”
“I take it that you and…” She glanced at her folder, “…Harvey aren’t close.”
“We have a difficult relationship.”
“Care to elaborate?”
Harry sat back. “We are only half brothers; we share the same mother. I was a by-product of her sleeping with her boyfriends’ best friend when they were drunk. I was the constant reminder that she messed up. Then she got married and had Harvey, and she had her perfect little family.” The sting of how his mother had treated him ached.
Annabel asked, “Are you saying your mother pushed you away and replaced you with Harvey?”
Harry said, “Felt like it. She gave me to my father to raise full-time, visited me when she could. That became less often once Harvey was born.”
“Do you feel resentful towards Harvey because of the relationship he got with your mother?”
Harry nodded. “I did. Until recently, I hated the sight of him. It took me a long time, but I have learnt that I don’t hate Harvey; I was jealous of him. It was my mother who I really resented.”
“Is this what you and your godfather talked about on Christmas?”
“That was before my revelation. He was trying to get me to open up and managed to get me to do so, but instead of talking, I kind of exploded.”
“I see. And that was when the accidents happened?”
“The first one was with my godfather; I knocked a whole lot of stuff over.”
“And the second?”
Harry didn’t want to say; he hated knowing that he had thrown Harvey across the yard. He knew that Harvey didn’t hold it against him and that he was fine, but it hurt to know that he had done it. Annabel had already mentioned that he might hurt someone; it was too late for that.
“Did you hurt your godfather?”
“No. Not him.” Harry gripped his hands tighter. “Harvey. I was trying to leave, I didn’t want to stay at my mother’s house. I was desperate to get away, but my mum chased after me. She didn’t want me to leave, and neither did Harvey. He had no idea what was happening and just tried to get me to come back inside. Harvey tried to grab me; I just meant to smack his hand off me, but my magic threw him across the yard.”
Annabel’s face didn’t falter. She asked, “Was he okay?”
Harry nodded. “He’s fine. He wasn’t even angry at me; he blamed himself.”
“You said that you exploded. Everything you felt was years of built-up emotion, emotion which I doubt you shared with anyone.”
Harry snorted out a laugh and rubbed his face. “Never was one to share my feelings.”
“Seems to me that you were raised to show a certain facade. After all, the Black family are a Pureblood family; there must be a heavyweight of carrying that name.”
“Not entirely. My father made it clear that I could be whoever I wanted. My grandmother was a little stricter, and I will admit she did have some effect on me. However, I kept everything in because I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“To your family?”
He looked up at her. “Yeah. Harvey is the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’. Everyone knows his name, and he needed to be kept safe. Mum told me that I needed to protect him, keep him safe. So, I did. I didn’t matter; Harvey did.”
“How old were you when your mother asked this of you?”
“Four, five. I don’t remember.”
Annabel frowned for the first time since she had spoken. “That’s a lot to ask of a child.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I think I know enough.”
Harry was surprised. That was it. “And? Am I a danger to my fellow witches and wizards?”
“No.” Annabel closed the folder and placed it on the table between them. “I think you have a lot of built-up emotion that you’ve never been allowed to express or that you’ve never let yourself express. It was only a matter of time until you did explode; it is fortunate, however, that it was only on a small scale.”
“I apparated to another country,” he said.
Annabel’s smile returned. “Yes, I suppose that is impressive. And while you shouldn’t attempt to do such a thing until you have your apparation license, it shows that you have great potential. If you weren’t on the path to become a Potions Master, I would recommend you to the Auror program.”
“Is that it? I can go back to school?”
She nodded. “I will put my report through with my recommendation that you can return to your studies at Hogwarts. However, you will need to be careful, Harry. I don’t know if anyone has mentioned this to you as a possibility, but witches and wizards who suffer extreme emotional—and sometimes physical—trauma can devolve into—”
“Obscurial.”
Annabel nodded. “Correct. Someone has mentioned it then.”
“Professor Dumbledore did.”
“I think your emotional state would have to go through a lot more for that to happen, but it is good for you to understand what can happen if you don’t address what’s going on inside,” she explained.
“I want to. I’ve been trying.”
“That’s good. Just remember that you don’t need to do it alone, talk to your friends, family, a girlfriend if you have one. No matter how insignificant you think it might be, there is nothing wrong with opening up.”
“Right.”
Annabel stood and stepped around the table. “If you do want to talk to someone that isn’t biased in any form, I did do some muggle study on Psychology.”
Harry stood to face her. “What’s that?”
“I studied the human mind; I can help you work out your emotions and teach you to deal with them in a healthy way.”
Harry frowned. “That sounds odd.”
Annabel shrugged. “I suppose it does. But it’s just an offer. You know where to find me if you want to talk.”
“Thank you, Annabel.”
“You’re welcome, Harry.”
Leaving Annabel Winters office, Harry felt better. He hadn’t really explained in detail what had happened, but now he had, and again it felt like more weight had been lifted. Harry was finding it difficult to understand what exactly Annabel assessed by asking him all those questions, but she was letting him go back to school, and that was all he really cared about.
Sirius was waiting outside, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He spotted Harry and seemed relieved. He met Harry in the middle and pulled him into a hug. It was something they did more often now, and it wasn’t a quick clap on the back; Sirius would hug him close and squeeze for a good few seconds before letting go.
“How did it go?” asked Sirius.
Harry sighed. “Fine. She said she will recommend that I can get back to school.”
Sirius smiled. “That’s great.”
Harry nodded. “I’ll have to play catch up. And hopefully, I can have enough time to get ready for Ravenclaw’s first quidditch match.”
“I thought that had already been played?” asked Sirius.
“Professor Flitwick had the dates changed with the Slytherin and Hufflepuff match. Games next week,” explained Harry.
Sirius directed them down the hall, arm still over Harry’s shoulders. “Great, I will make sure that Moony and I will be there. Now, another question, before you go back to school on Monday…”
“Maybe.”
“On Monday, positive thinking, why don’t I invite the Delacour family for dinner tomorrow night?” asked Sirius.
Harry didn’t remember the last time he felt so excited. He had to contain himself so that he didn’t start jumping up and down at the idea of seeing Fleur. “Really?”
Sirius smirked. “Really. You can introduce me properly to your girlfriend.”
Harry felt his cheeks heat. “I don’t know if that is what you would call her.”
“Whatever you want to call her, she is important to you, and I would like to get to know her.”
Harry nodded. “Alright, yeah.”
“Great, now, let's get out of this place and get something to eat; I’m starved.”
Things were getting better. When the year had started at Hogwarts, Harry had been dreading it because of Harvey, but now he couldn’t wait to get back to classes and get to know his brother better. And seeing Fleur again so soon sent a chill down his spine. He couldn’t wait to see her, to hold her. And if he found a chance, kiss her again.
The weight of fear, of rejection, was still sitting with him. Harry could feel it there, but its hold had loosened, and that was good for now.
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The day had been rather slow for Harvey. He had woken up knowing that today Harry would find out if he was allowed to return to Hogwarts properly. Harvey had spent most of the day wondering what the outcome would be but didn’t know if he would see Harry before Monday. They had sat together in the library after dinner on Thursday night; Harry had been helping him with his Charms homework when Harry mentioned staying at home for the weekend regardless of the outcome. Harvey had tried to stay positive and believe that his brother would be let back; after all, he couldn’t imagine that Harry’s condition would get worse now that he seemed to be getting better.
Harvey’s friends had helped with keeping him distracted; they had learnt a lot about Nicolas Flamel and were thinking of ways to prove that Snape was the one after the Philosopher stone. Even if no one else believed them, not Harry, not Hagrid, not even his parents, it didn’t matter, though; something needed to be done.
Since coming back to school, Harvey had tried to keep an eye on Snape. With him seeing Harry more often in the past fortnight, he saw the Potions Professor more often, but only ever in the Dungeons. He had tried using his invisibility cloak that his dad and gifted to him on Christmas to follow the man around, but he found it difficult to keep up.
It had been Hermione’s idea to try and talk to Hagrid and find out more about what was protecting the stone. After all, it seemed their half-giant groundskeeper wasn’t very good at keeping secrets. They didn’t want to go during the day since they wanted to avoid Snape noticing their visit, so instead, they went after lights out.
Harvey met Hermione and Ron in the Gryffindor Common Room with his cloak. Ron seemed uncertain, but Hermione was determined. After nudging Ron out the door, Harvey threw the cloak over them, and they carefully moved through the corridors. Somehow, they managed to avoid any teachers and make it outside. Once they were far enough away from the castle, Harvey pulled off the cloak, and they ran as quickly as they could to Hagrid’s hut.
The windows were glowing with light as they reached the hut, and while they tried to catch their breath, Hermione knocked.
“Coming,” called Hagrid. He swung the door open and frowned when he saw them. “Sorry you lot, I’m not able to entertain you today.” He tried to close the door, but Hermione stepped up.
“We know about the Philosopher’s stone, Hagrid,” she said.
Hagrid sighed heavily and let the door swing open. “Oh. Come in.”
The hut, as always, was warm and messy. Fang was curled up by the fire, and Hagrid seemed to be cooking something over it. Hagrid sat down in a large armchair and said, “I don’t see why you three are so concerned about something that has nothing to do with you.”
Hermione stalked forward and sat across from him. “Someone needs to care; Professor Dumbledore is clearly trying to protect the stone, and Snape has made it clear that he wants it.”
“Hogwash! Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, has been for years,” said Hagrid.
“Maybe he has been biding his time,” suggested Harvey.
Hagrid huffed. “You lot are being ridiculous.”
“Hagrid, things just don’t add up,” said Harvey.
“Look, Snape is one of the teachers protecting the stone. It is perfectly safe, and even if he did want the damn thing, no one knows how to get past Fluffy beside Dumbledore or me,” explained Hagrid.
“Of course, there are other things beside Fluffy protecting the stone,” exclaimed Hermione.
Hagrid smiled. “Exactly.”
“I still don’t like it, Hagrid,” said Harvey.
A cracking sound from the fire startled Hagrid. He leapt up and grabbed mittens from the table, and rushed over to the pot. From it, he pulled a large egg that he rushed over and placed on the table.
“What is that?” asked Hermione.
Ron’s mouth dropped open. “Blimey! Where did you get one of those?”
“I won it off a stranger down the pub,” smirked Hagrid.
The eggs cracking grew louder until Harvey, Ron and Hermione all had to duck to avoid a piece of the shell that shot across the room. A cry from the egg pulled them to stand, and there in front of Hagrid was a small—slimy—creature.
“That’s a Norwegian Ridgeback! My brother Charlie works with them,” cried Ron.
Hermione looked concerned. She said, “A dragon? Hagrid, you can’t keep a dragon.”
Hagrid waved her off. “Nonsense, he just needs to be trained. I raised Fluffy, didn’t I?” He reached forward and scratched the dragon’s head. “Hello, Norbert.”
“Norbert?” asked Ron.
Hagrid nodded. “Yeah, he needs a name.”
Harvey wasn’t sure what to think; Hagrid seemed confident that the stone was safe, but how did they know. Snape was a clever man, his mum had told him so, and Harry believed it too. Harvey just needed to work out a plausible reason as to why Snape would want the stone; once he had the why he would make everyone believe him.
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