Chapter Text
[***]
Harry turned to the large wizard - Hagrid, his name was - at last, having finished his handmade meal. He looked away again, looking to the headmaster for guidance. His frown was scary so Harry turned to the large one, saying with an expression of wide eyed (fake) earnestness:
“I’m very sorry, will you forgive me?”
Nothing was said in the seconds that followed, both wizards were frozen and he was sure that it had failed. If they didn’t accept his false promise, well…
“O’ course I will, ‘Arry! We should go to the alley, don’t you think?”
Harry smiled genuinely, nodding along as the wizard held out his hand. Harry took it and was dragged to his feet. Without warning, the man pulled him into a hug.
Harry counted two consecutive cracks that resounded through his body. His back had cracked twice. Oh, Guiding Winds… he landed on his feet, released like a ragdoll that would have flopped to a broken neck if he were anyone else, untrained in falling from high places. As the older wizards began to leave the kitchens, Harry hurried to follow. Dumbledore began to speak, gentle and kind.
“Now, Mister Potter, you will be returning here for one more time before we send you to a room we rented for you at the Leaky Cauldron.” Dumbledore said as they began walking from the kitchens. “You will be there until the first of September. When the first arrives, you will have until twelve in the afternoon to find the right place at Charring Cross Station. That would be Platform 9 ¾.”
“How would I find my way in, sir?” Harry asked, weary.
“Running towards the problem might help.” The headmaster answered, jovial as the pair seemed to speed up. Harry paused mid stride in thought but managed to resume following them in time to avoid the pause being noticed. Smiling as he spotted large double doors, Harry stopped short when they swung open revealing a bright, sunny summer day. “Hagrid, walk Mister Potter to the edge of the Hogwarts protection, towards the gate to Hogsmeade - not the forbidden forest - and take him to buy everything on his list using this.”
Dumbledore passed something to the large man.
“O’ course, Headmaster.” Hagrid said as they finally moved to step out of the castle. Harry noted how perfect the grass was. An Earth Elemental would enjoy wrecking the evenly cut blades, unearthing the roots and breathing the grass into varying widths and lengths. Harry hesitated, still uncomfortable with the shoes he’d been provided with. “Come on now, ‘Arry. We’ve got a long day ahead of us!”
The large man walked off and Dumbledore watched Harry scurry to follow him. Harry grimaced as he hurried, disliking the pinching sensations on his toes. Were wizards secretly masochists?
“These shoes are real tight, Mister Hagrid.” Harry said when he lost his patience and took the chance to glide after him. The loose fitting robes helped in that aspect.
“Hmm? I guess ye’ve got bigger feet than the average firsty, ‘Arry. Also, none o’ that Mister stuff, me’name’s jus’ Hagrid.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to take this off from the way they’re squeezing me.” Harry answered, wading through the air next to the man.
“You’ll have to buy a new pair of shoes when we get there, won’t you, ‘Arry?”
“With what money?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” Harry scowled, keeping his steps just light enough to cause minimum impact as they walked onwards.
[***]
Harry was left gasping, a minor panic setting in when the hook hit his naval and pulled him out of reality to another world that was much too different—He shut his eyes. The colors were weird but there was no way he was going to let something as silly as wizard travel make him panic. Harry felt Hagrid grab him and place him on his feet.
“I know it can be a bit troublesome, ‘Arry, but this is the nicest form of wizarding travel in my opinion. And Dumbledore made this one jus’ fer you !” Was that jealousy he had heard in the man’s voice?
“Where’s the magic?” He asked instead of addressing the strange tone, looking around the dingy alley. Hagrid chuckled and pulled a pink umbrella from his coat that looked like it hadn’t seen much rain.
“Pay attention, ‘Arry. Now the trick is this: from this rubbish bin… three up, two across .” Hagrid followed the way he had spoken and Harry near took a step back when the bricks began to rearrange themselves. “Welcome, ‘Arry. Welcome to Diagon Alley.”
“Where do I go to buy all the things on my list, Hagrid?” Harry caught his gaping and stepped forward, into the alley.
“Well, firs’ we need to head to the northern end and get ye some money.”
“Who left me money?”
“You don’t really think yer parents left ye with nothing, do you, Harry?”
“I don’t know… Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed certain they were no good drunks.”
“Never speak that way about them again!” Hagrid snapped, giving Harry pause as the man began storming his way through the alley. Harry stayed just behind, “Ye could ne’er find another witch or wizard finer ‘an they were! They gave their lives fer you!”
Harry frowned at the man’s back, having never heard such things about his—the people who had made him.
He continued his rant all the way to a large, stone white building that towered over the rest of the alley. Harry cringed, vague memories of struggling to take over simmering just beneath the surface, when he caught sight of the mean faced beasts guarding the doors.
Hagrid stopped his rant right as he was about to enter the large double doors.
“Tread lightly, wizards .” One of the bullfaced monsters sneered at them.
Ashen in their skin, mouths lined with fangs that they were bearing at Harry, and—“Come on, Harry.” He hurried after the older wizard and couldn’t hide his surprise at how aloof the monsters were. His hands trembled as he stuck close to Hagrid, lightly dancing around a redhead as Hagrid made a sharp turn.
She stumbled as they made eye contact.
“Eek!” She cried as Harry caught her arm. Once he was sure that she had caught her bearings, he released her. With red cheeks, she began to speak, “Thank you…”
“I’m Harry.” He said, skipping the greetings. The redhead’s long, plaited hair frazzled up a bit as someone cleared their throat from behind him and grabbed his shoulder.
“Mister Potter…” A familiar voice crooned from behind him. “Do you remember me?”
“Yes, Ms Bones, I do.” He did not dare turn around.
“Stay away from my niece, Boy-Who-Lived.” He blinked and looked back and up at her, wondering if he should answer her. Hagrid had noticed he wasn’t at his side and was upon the Bones woman in a heartbeat.
“Amelia, unhand him! He’s jus’ comin’ with me ter get his money.”
Harry moved to stand next to him, having found himself unhanded as the giant man ordered. He spotted the witch’s twitching fingers and wondered if that was a warning in itself. For a tense moment, he suspected she was ready for murder. Her next actions surprised him more than if she’d cast some form of witchcraft on him.
“Let’s go, Susan.”
Harry swallowed as she stalked away and the red haired girl hurried after her aunt, not glancing back once. Hagrid grabbed his shoulder with a heavy hand and guided him to the lines. Harry wasn’t happy at how long they were, but it was still better than having the scary woman at his heels.
[***]
Upon reaching the front of the line, Hagrid spoke in hushed tones to the beast behind the counter that Harry managed to pick up with a bit of abuse towards his powers.
“We’re here to pick up two things today. I’m bringing Harry Potter to his vault and pick up the you-know-what from yer oldest customer .” Harry hummed in thought. Did wizard’s truly live so long?
“Does Mister Potter have his key?” The beast asked with no small amount of derision. Harry frowned as Hagrid bumbled through his coat with some mumbled platitudes. Did - did people come here saying that they were him?
“Hagrid.” Harry said in a soft voice. Hagrid pulled out a small, bronze key and the goblin snatched it. He scrutinized it with a frown, his eyes. “Am I famous or something?”
Hagrid turned around to answer, but was interrupted by the creature behind the desk.
“It all seems to be in order, Mister Hagrid. You will be guided to Mister Potter’s vault as well as our other customer’s vault in due time. Griphook !” A goblin stalked up to them and they were quickly led to some tunnels when Harry stopped short at the entrance where a couple was being ushered onto a cart. He gulped and looked up.
“Don’t worry, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place on Earth, aside fer Hogwarts, o’ course.” So he went against his instincts and walked through the strange air that—he gagged at the thick scent of rotting earth magic that filled the cavern.
It was like a bastardized form of his Earth wielding elders.
“Is Goblin Country not up to your sensitive palate, Mister Potter?” He heard the mocking tone and he wanted to be mature, to ignore the taunt. But he was barely eleven, darn it! Harry took a deep breath, biting back some sick that tried to make its way up. After a harsh swallow, Harry threw his head back and released a great bout of wind that made the beasts in the room gag in a coinciding cacophony of retching noises.
“That’s more I like it.” Harry said, smiling as Hagrid rubbed the back of his head with evident confusion. They got onto the cart that pulled up. The foul smell was slowly seeping back into his nostrils but he didn’t mind, Griphook recovered and entered the cart after them. “Hagrid… how does money work in the wizarding world?”
His question fell on deaf ears as Hagrid braced himself onto his side of the cart. Griphook placed his hand on a lever that popped up next to him.
“Hold on to the railing, Har—” Harry grabbed the railing as Griphook pulled the lever. “ Ry !”
Hagrid’s booming shout of surprise echoed throughout the cavernous room, a bit after they made their way into the bowels of Gringotts.
[***]
They passed by a multitude of doors, row upon row, some stacked one above the other.
Once they’d made the first stop, Harry was happy to see that those people were wrong. His birthers hadn’t been the sort to squander every penny, in fact: he had a vault full of gold!
“How does money work, Hagrid?”
“Huh? Oh, righ’... er… the biggest ones - the gold coins, those are worth the most - galleons, followed by silver - sickles, followed by those bronze ‘uns - knuts. There are seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty nine knuts to a sickle.”
“How much would I need to last me this year, Hagrid?”
“Ye have enough to last ye until the end of yer days, ‘Arry.” Hagrid’s voice grew distant as he began to talk to him. “Ye’ll be fine as long as ye don’t waste it all on somethin’ dumb.”
Harry grabbed a few handfuls of each coin and placed them in the pouch Hagrid had given to him. Once he was out of the vault he followed Hagrid into the cart and they were off again, heading in deeper before going back up again, at the same speed.
Ugh.
The rancid smell was stronger than ever! Harry wasn’t foolish enough to ruin the goblin’s concentration, though tempting it was. They made an alarming and sharp turn and Harry gulped as they stopped short in front of a single door. The scent of the creatures was pungent here. Hagrid stepped off of the cart, reminding Harry of a newborn deer as he finally caught his footing. An odd sight considering the man’s girth. The goblin hopped out after him as Harry covered his face in his sleeve, using it as a mask to hide his nose from the foul smells of the Gringotts bank tunnel.
The scent of the Hogwarts robes was nice, almost caressing his nostrils, but they didn’t block out every single nuance of the foul smell of the tunnel. Harry scowled when Hagrid made his way back.
“What’d you get?”
“Don’choo worry abou’ tha’, ‘Arry.” So he wouldn’t.
[***]
“I’ll get yer books and a present for you, ‘Arry.” Hagrid’s speech gradually got better as the day progressed. “Stay here.”
Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions seemed drab compared to the other robe shop near the Gringotts. Harry was bored beyond any relief after they’d gone to the robe shop. Well, Hagrid had abandoned him to go to the pub from what he saw.
“Ugh…” Harry grumbled as he stepped off of his stool, breezing by a platinum blond boy with a pointed nose and chin. Merlin, even his nails appeared shiny and perfectly manicured. That… was not normal for a boy their age.
Harry walked on after catching his staring. Hagrid was making another stop by the time Harry ran by him. He was careful to avoid being spotted, edging by him as careful as he could.
Once he was sure it was safe, he ran for the southernmost part of Diagon Alley.
Harry grimaced as Hagrid’s beady eyes roved past him, almost as though it was a given that Harry would be able to stay still on his own in a strange shop. The man walked into the Leaky Cauldron and Harry headed on his way, heading past the southern end of the alley.
As he stepped through he couldn’t help but think that this place reminded him of the tunnels he’d been raised in, just not as warm and homey. The first stop was a used wand shop. He’d heard many awful things about wands, like how sometimes they’d explode if they were held by someone who they didn’t like. How a piece of wood could make that decision, Harry did not know.
“You’re one of ‘em poors brats, are ya?”
Harry said nothing as the man behind the counter looked up from his book. His dark hair was slicked back. It was an odd thing, he noted. Though Harry didn’t have many experiences with books and English as a language he knew enough and thought that books shouldn’t quiver as this one did. Books also didn’t need belts to tie them shut. Harry tilted his head in thought, noting that there were many books behind the man just like that.
“I’m Harry.”
“Ah, another brat named after the Boy-Who-Lived?” The man belted his book shut and replaced it onto one of the many shelves. “Shouldn’t you be starting next year?”
“Does it matter?” Harry bore his green eyes into the man’s hazel as a vicious grin spread across the man’s face. The man chuckled and shook his head before speaking again.
“I need you to drink some tea with me, boy. This is a used wand store and I need to use a special tea leaf reading to see which wand will fit you the best. My name is Nolan, Nolan Potter.”
“Potter?” It must have been a common name, Harry thought to himself as the man’s smile grew.
“I know, I know…” Nolan said while focusing on pulling out a kettle from behind the counter he’d had his feet on. “I really am a Potter. I was the Squib cousin to James Potter, you know.” Harry squinted his eyes at the man, glaring before catching himself in his act of loathing. It would have been easy to hurt him for throwing that name out so casually, he thought. He’d heard of Squibs from his elders. Hated by wizards as they hated everything else that didn’t need or couldn’t use a wand, though he couldn’t quite remember which case it was for Squibs.
“What are your rates?”
“All of our wands are guaranteed to be of use until you return them… for the right price of course.”
“That didn’t answer my question.” Harry said.
“The max you should pay is three galleons, but that’s a lot less than what you’d pay for a brand new wand!” Harry nodded as the Squib prepared the tea in a peculiar way. “Attentive thing you are, aren’t ya?”
“I prefer not to risk poison.”
“This will be a basic tea leaf reading, don’t worry. All you have to do is drink the tea.” Nolan said. When Harry’s eyes narrowed, his hairs lost all of their slickness and puffed up in a way that reminded Harry of someone he’d seen before a long time ago. “Damn hair potion…”
If only he could remember where and when. Harry watched him finish preparing the teacup and held it out, wiping the side facing Harry with a rag he’d pulled from somewhere. To Harry’s surprise, it was steaming when he got closer.
“I’d suggest drinking it as fast as you can.” Harry refrained from spitting the magical liquid up through sheer self control. He was left dry heaving as the Squib in front of him gave a hum of thought, staring intently into the cup and wandering off. He wandered back with two boxes. “These are the wands that best match your personality and future.”
“Th - thanks.” Harry said as he wiped the spittle lining his mouth as the taste struggled to escape.
“Of course, the one on the right is an apple wood and unicorn tail hair, eight inches. Its previous owner was a hit wizard who specialized in hunting down dark creatures. It’s a bit temperamental and has a penchant for burning people it doesn’t like…” He motioned to the one on the left as Harry shook his head immediately. “This one is a lazy wizard’s wand, ten inches, but not that powerful for a phoenix feather wand, but it is dogwood. You know, the silly wood. Anyway, the person who sold it to me said the previous owner was a dead relative.”
“I’ll take that one, how much?”
“I see you don’t like a challenge, Harry. You’re going places when you go to Hogwarts, just not Gryffindor.” Nolan laughed at something Harry didn’t quite get. Once the shop owner had calmed down, he said, “I’ll include a wand holster because it is a truly worthless wand. That’ll be one galleon.”
“Thanks, Mister Potter.” Harry said after picking the wand out of the box and placing it in the holster and strapping it to his wrist. He placed the single galleon on the table and waited. The squib sighed and looked as though he were about to say something but Harry decided against hearing him when another fifteen seconds passed. “I’ll be going out now, you have a fine shop here.”
He glanced up at the sky with surprised he hadn’t spent much time picking out a wand at all. Even if his feet were killing him from how tight the shoes he wore were, he figured he’d have some time to kill before Hagrid noticed he was gone. Harry hobbled about, examining what appeared to be a book of squiggles. When he squinted his eyes, he could make out some words here and there. He blinked, tilted his head and peered closer.
“ Tikvenik [1]!” There was a beat of silence as an old wizard, dressed in a rumpled gray monk’s habit, ran out with a broom in his hands. Harry stood his ground until someone whispered, rather loudly:
“Y’think another kid’ll die against that broom again?” Harry jerked his eyes to the left, where a feral looking old woman was stood across the street, grinning with a wide smile that showed off pronounced cuspids. “I hope it is as delicious as the last one…”
Harry swallowed and focused on the broom again. It was made of an ash colored wood and was covered with runes. His eyes widened as the broom gave a noticeable shock of blue electricity, his eyes wandered from the handle to the bristles, which glimmered with an air of heat. Harry lifted his arms, getting ready for a maneuver he’d only seen in theory.
“You are fool to be here!” The old man boomed before releasing the broom in his hands. It would have taken all of two seconds for Harry to huff in some air, one to release it.
That was three seconds too late, the broom sucker punched him with its handle within one second. He was left reeling, unsure what to do without a breath as the broom whirled around and started to slap its heated bristles onto his scalp.
Each bristle - which must have been in the hundreds - was like a blistering whip upon his arms as he covered his head. He had to get out of here! So he bolted, leaping up high and abusing the winds to tear himself into the air. In theory, the gusts he was releasing should have set the broom against him anywhere but near him.
How wrong he was.
His eyes opened and he spotted it flying after him. He sucked in a breath, spread his arms, and blew out the largest breath he could. It did not help that he was wearing the wrong kind of garments for this move. The robes billowed around him, catching the air he didn’t need, and slowed him down.
The broom caught up to him and landed one more hit on him, lashing his blocking arms one last time before heading back to its master. He landed, a graceless heap on the dirty floor just outside of Diagon Alley as his ankle throbbed from the poor, desperate landing. The throbbing his ankle gave with each step he took did not matter to him. Healing was easy once he found a safe spot to do so.
He was safe for now.
[***]
“‘Arry!” Hagrid greeted him with an enthusiasm that made his ears ring as Harry sat in front of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. Harry stood up with a wince, careful to hide his robe sleeves behind his back.
“It’s good to see you again.” Harry lied with a bright smile. The man seemed hellbent on checking him over for reasons Harry wished would disappear. Hagrid’s eyes crinkled in thought as Harry maintained eye contact. Harry decided on using a distraction. “That’s a nice looking bird.”
“This is the newes’ member of the Hogwarts owlery.” he said, holding up the caged white bird.
“An owl, right?”
“Ye really don’ know much.” Hagrid said, looking away. “What did those elementals teach ye, ‘Arry?”
“In the morning, we practiced meditation. After that, they taught me some elemental techniques.” Hagrid started to walk away with a quick motion. Harry stood up to follow, wincing at the sharpness his ankle protested with.
“What good is that, ‘Arry?” He glided after the wizard, keeping his bad leg slightly raised higher than his good leg.
“Plenty of things.”
“Yer moving awful funny there. Did something happen while you were there?”
“I may not have stayed at the shop while you were away…” Harry admitted as he pulled out his new wand and showed it to Hagrid who stopped just long enough to look back at him. Hagrid chuckled as Harry stood there, balancing on one foot.
“Alrigh’, I see you went to Ollivander’s already… why are ye limping?”
“I went to the loo and fell while not paying attention to where I was going.” Harry said as though it were the truth. The wizard sighed.
“Well, Madam Pomfrey will have my hide if I don’t bring ye back ta her.” He turned to walk again and Harry followed him. “‘Old on tigh’ now. Don’ wan’ ya lost on the way…”
Harry shuddered but held onto the rope as they made their way through the entrance back to the alley. Harry knew hatred as there was a familiar tug on his navel, this time it wasn’t bad when the colors zoomed by him. It was worse. Chills coursed through his body as the sights settled into the entrance of Hogwarts, he couldn’t stick the landing, of course not. His ankle made him cry out as the owl flew off. Harry shuddered as he realized that the headmaster was there, waiting.
“Hagrid, how did Mister Potter handle his first day back in the wizarding world?”
“‘E was fine. I bought a new owl for the owlery.” The large wizard said, dismissing him as Dumbledore pulled out his wand.
“Mister Potter, what happened to your foot?”
“I fell on my way from the loo.” He answered with a bright smile from his spot on the ground.
“Well, I shall be using magic to levitate you to the hospital wing.” The kind old man said. Harry grinned back, giving him two thumbs up.
“I trust you, headmaster.” It was the only thing he’d said and meant all day. The old man pointed his wand at him and Harry was proud of himself for the minimal flinch that having a weapon like that pointed at himself again brought. Although… he supposed - as his body was levitated from the ground - he had one of these deadly weapons now. “Will I be learning that in your school, sir?”
“As long as you apply yourself.” The headmaster’s aura was acting strange. It had warmed him and brought him in when they’d first met in a masterful and subtle way that he hadn’t even thought of his dead family once he’d appeared. Now the emotions the man was feeling slowed down the warmth, almost snuffing it out, like he was sad.
“Are you okay?” They had arrived at the entrance of the castle. The doors opened outwards, towards them, as though driven by an invisible force. The headmaster did not answer in the time it took them to walk into the building.
“Of course, I am—”
“You don’t have to lie, sir.” Harry’s laugh seemed to push the cold air the man exuded closer to the surface. A half cooked proverb was what it took to cheer his elders up, Harry remembered. The old man moved him to a bed as the healer came bustling out. “Lying to yourself is the worst form of lying.”
“Well, Headmaster… that boy is already very much like you. I see why you get along so well.” Here, the matron of the hospital wing, whipped out her wand. “I fear we still do not have a cure for that attitude, headmaster.”
“Poppy, do not compare a child to Albus!” The strict faced woman, dressed in green robes that covered her from her toes to her neck, had a delicious and scandalized expression at those last words. She focused on Harry, who maintained his smile. “Mister Potter… you should be home, with your aunt—”
His smile disappeared and he knew in that moment that he wanted nothing to do with that woman either.
“I can assure you,” Harry clenched his fist, shaking from the certainty that coursed through him. “I know that Albus Dumbledore is doing something right to be at the age he is. I can also assure you, Professor McGonagall, that it would shorten my life from Dumbledore’s age to this summer if I went back to those terrible people.” There was a beat of silence and McGonagall sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“I will be telling you my exact thoughts in your office once you’re done with Mister Potter, Albus.” She stalked out, a woman on a mission.
“Harry.” The headmaster was hesitant. “Can you tell me something good of your family?”
“They taught me some elemental manipulation, meditation—”
“No, of Vernon and Petunia Dursley.”
“But, headmaster… they’re not my family. They’re nothing more than blood relations.” The room grew chilly and Harry realized that his air magic was stirring from his control again. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, clearing his mind and pushing the invading darkness out and away . After another breath, he opened his eyes. The scent of spring freshness filled the air, and Harry realized he’d over done it. “Sorry, I’m not good at finding my balance.”
“Poppy will be checking you over, Mister Potter.”
“Minerva will be telling you a thing or two, I hope. You deserve this if the way the boy acts is anything to go by. Get out of my sight now, headmaster.” The witch whipped out her wand. She ignored his flinch as the old man left and she came up to him. Witchcraft was a fascinating thing, he thought as her glowing wand tip came to tap his ankle. When the pain disappeared, he flexed his toes, then began twisting his foot this way and that. “Hold still, Mister Potter. Lay down… that’s it.”
Her dark eyes met his as sharp as any eagle when she found his shredded robe arms.
“This fashion statement is not cute.” Harry grinned right back at her, easy going with the lie from earlier on the tip of his tongue. “This is school property, Mister Potter, and—Goodness! Blood!”
Ah, he should have cleaned it beyond his flesh. This would take some mental gymnastics to get out of.
[***]
It was obvious she didn’t believe him by the time he was done weaving the tale, it was obvious but she was too lazy to punch too many holes in his stories.
“Right. I trust you bought robes other than Madam Malkins?”
“They’re somewhere.” Harry said, cool as a summer breeze. His grin had the unintended effect of making the old witch turn away. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
Her eyes were blazing when she turned to glare at him.
“I cannot recall a time when there wasn’t a Potter to cause problems in these halls, Mister Potter. I just hope that you won’t be as severe a case as your father was.”
“What was he like?” The honest words were out before he could stop them. Her eyes shined in an odd way as realization dawned on her face. She sighed.
“What did your relations tell you of your parents?”
“You don’t want to know.” Harry responded, thinking back on Hagrid’s reaction earlier that day. The witch wasn’t pleased at his words, however, that much was clear.
“Come now!” with a wave of her wand, an uncomfortable looking chair was next to his bed. He sat up as she sat in it. “What you say will not bring judgment upon you.”
“You mean it?” Harry’s words were met with a nod and sweet smile. Harry rubbed his chin, the large man’s harsh tone flashed through his mind and he made his choice. “It’s almost dinner time, and talking about them puts me off my appetite.”
“Well, I will not stop you from eating your dinner. However… I would like to tell you about your mother before you leave.” Reality stuttered around him as she pulled out a still sketch of a tall woman who looked almost familiar, he recognized the long nose but not much else. “Your mother loved to draw and this is a picture of your grandmother that she drew. She wanted to be a painter before the war happened. She ended up becoming a fully licensed healer in record time. She wanted to help others any way she could—”
The door banged open as Professor McGonagall stormed in. Harry swallowed and Pomfrey sighed, hanging her head.
“Poppy, the coward didn’t come to his office.” Harry blinked at that.
“Where did he go now?”
“I’ll be heading off to the kitchens .” Harry whispered as both women got lost in their conversation. He knew his way well enough around this big castle, right?