Chapter Text
Looking up with a mouth dry with fear Harry whispered “I don’t know sir.” to the impossible questions the professor was snapping at him, and his eyes….
Uncle Vernon was loud and angry, Aunt Petunia was hissy and mean, Dudley was a little hateful piggy, jealous and spiteful, all of them awful and hurtful and just mean, but this man....
This person was dangerous, this was a wizard with eyes of arctic ice over a volcano, this person hated him, and was going to hurt him any way he could.
But Harry’d been looking forward to potions most of all, because he’d found a book that said potions could fix eyesight, he’d even managed to find the recipe but all hope of learning how to do it died in the face of the blasting rage of this person, who snapped, "Ten points from Gryffindor for innate stupidity!”
First class, first day, ten points down and everyone in the room looking at him with shocked indignant anger. Harry thought death might feel better, but this teacher wasn't going to be merciful enough to kill him right now, clearly, so he did what he always did when things were awful, he went quiet, hunched small, kept his head down and let it wash over him, knowing no matter how bad something was, it always ended.
And the class was indeed interesting, even if he got more points taken off for breathing wrong.
*
“Harry how could you!” “You lost us how many points?” “What the hell, how did you fuck it up so bad already?”
Overlapping voices, all of them angry at him and he simply left the lunch table, grabbed his bag and walked away.
So what if his guts were cramping with hunger, he’d not keep anything down anyway and if they yelled like that for something that wasn’t his fault, he didn't need them either.
Dreams of having friends crashed and died, the same way his hopes of a good potions class had, so instead he tracked down his next class, sat on the floor, and read his transfiguration work book, and when that got too much he switched to charms, and then to runes where he found an expanding pocket spell to ask about.
If the teacher was any nicer that is.
*
The teacher wasn't any nicer, seeing as she started up with “Harry Potter, I hope we don't have a repeat of your performance in Potions!”
“No miss, sorry miss.”
“Speak up Mister Potter, I can't hear you if you mumble!”
Oh goody, she was one of those kinds of teachers, so he braced himself and raised his head and said, "No Miss, SORRY Miss!”
Aaaand she took points off for cheek.
Which meant she was the worst kind, one who demanded he act one way and then punished him for it.
Goody.
But once she left him alone the class was interesting, even if his match stick didn't change at all, never mind into a needle but he could feel the magic inside, it just didn't want to come out when the teacher sniffed and scowled at him.
That was okay, Harry didn't much want to come out either, so he wasn't mad at his magic, just sad.
*
Facing the entire dinner table of scowls he only stayed because he was dizzy now, sick too so he got a bowl of soup and a slice of bread and ate really slowly, trying not to make himself sicker while he took every chance when no one was looking to tuck bits of stolen food into his pockets, the way he’d hoped to never have to do again.
He’d need to eat a few times before morning though to help get over not eating at all for so long and stealing food was the only way to do it. The best way to ignore the angry eyes and hateful words was for him to read and at least he had awesome books now.
Hiding behind a book was the accusation, but so what if it was true, he was reading the expanding pockets spell again and thinking really hard about his frightened magic so could ignore the mean words and even meaner looks.
*
Sitting up in bed with his curtains pulled around the bed as he ate his second pockets worth of food, wincing a bit at the stains and squishy feeling, he aimed his wand at the ragged scrap of flannel he’d stitched into a pocket shape, using the sewing kit he’d found thrown away one day and kept hidden as the treasure it really was with it’s tiny scissors and buttons and all color threads and needles only a little bit rusty, who wouldn’t keep something that grand, and tried to feel his way through the magic, rather than just pointing his wand and yelling words at it.
Because he’d gotten to the library for the first time after dinner, just a bit before curfew, and been as brave as he could, and asked for a book, one on how and why spells worked, but “Not a hard one please Miss cause I know I’m stupid but if you give me a really easy book then I might understand better. Please?”
The librarian had frowned at him just like all the other grown ups did but she’d also given him a book, The How’s And Why's Of Spell Crafting
“This book is aimed at creating spells but it does have a lot about the theory and such like, it might be what you need.”
Diving back into it again in the quiet of his bed he reread the part about intent as he remembered what he now knew was called accidental magic, where intent was all he’d had.
His magic being frightened and him being afraid was a bad combo in class because all he’d been thinking about was how bad everything was, but magic seemed to be emotional, and one emotion could block another one and a wand was supposed to stop that but his one, rolling it between his fingers, didn't seem to do it that well.
Of course it was him that was bad, not the wand, cause the poor thing got stuck with him rather than a good student but if Harry could make it easier for the wand then that was good.
Breathing nice and slow, thinking about how his belly was happy now with food in it, feeling the magic as a kind of day dream imagining of what he wanted it to do, he didn't bother with the words and just let the idea flow out and into the fabric which rippled and fell still.
This time when he put his hand into the pocket it just kept on going and going and going.
Good, but not good enough.
Flipping to the next page he needed, this one in a totally different book, now he had the space he needed freshness, because his food had to keep good in his pocket.
He wasn't sure if that spell worked, even if it did feel like it, so tomorrow he'd put a few strawberries into it and see if they went grey and squishy or stayed fresh and red, and he carefully stitched the flannel pocket into one of his robe pockets so no one could accuse him of damaging something belonging to the school.
Even if he’d bought it, it was a school robe, so this way he was covered.
Once done he ate the final bits of food he'd squirreled away and lay down, a tired smile on his face. His match stick might not have worked, but the pocket sure did!
*
All during breakfast he hid as much food as possible into his new pocket and then headed to herbology which he was trying not to be hopeful for.
Hope he’d tried hard not to have was firmly dashed regardless when he got a lecture on cleanliness, despite not being the only one who’d made a mess when potting up the tiny plants needing new and bigger homes. Harry sighed and tried to hide how the two new lost points hurt.
At the door of his next class all his age mates practically screamed at him to not mess up, but as he didn't know how he was, how could he avoid it?
Turns out when the teacher is a ghost droning along about goblins rebelling, it was at least easy to not lose points but at some point a few of the kids chatting rather than paying attention had said something about pets that were allowed to roam the castle and pets that weren’t and how could you tell which was which and Harry remembered the code of conduct book at his first school because it answered questions like that, well, not quite like that but close enough so bolted to the library the instant he was free.
*
“You want what?”
Patiently repeating himself Harry said, “The Hogwarts Code Of Conduct Book please miss.”
“Madam!”
Looking fixedly at the desk rather than her he said again, “The Hogwarts Code Of Conduct Book please madam. Sorry.”
Grown ups liked him to say sorry, so he did and then he remembered the other books he wanted, and was about to ask when his magic twinged and he ducked to the side and something hit the desk with a TWANG and the yelling at that point was awesome, although he got points taken off as well as the Slytherin student who’d thrown a curse kind of spell at him, which Harry knew damned good and well to not complain about.
Instead, right before he ran like hell to beat curfew, he asked, as nicely as he could, if there was a way to buy books and things for students that ran out of supplies or needed a new robe or something because she said the book he’d come in for was all checked out and would be for weeks, and he learned all about owl ordering.
*
“Hey Hedwig, this looks nice.”
Looking around the owlery Harry said again, “This is nice.”
Because it was warm, dry, dark, and filled with the rustling of feathers and clicking of talons and beaks, a deep soft dusty safe sort of feeling, and he knew magic owls could eat anything but he didn't think bacon could be good for them so he tried to give over a bit of pork chop from lunch but Hedwig gave him a LOOK so he dug out the bit of bacon that clearly she knew he’d been hiding, resolving to stash more in the morning so he could share better.
Bacon rocked, and clearly his owl agreed.
“Do you know about owl ordering?”
A ruffle of indignant feathers and Harry sighed in relief, “Okay, then, will you,” - not can, because she was a magic owl and clearly could do anything - “get me the catalog from the bookshop, the sweetshop, somewhere for clothes, potions ingredients, and anything else you think is gonna be interesting.”
The most judgmental look had him adding with a giggle, cause she’d shuffled her feet like dancing, “Oh, and fun too.”
Watching her fly away Harry hurried to the final class of the day and the week, Defence.
He wasn't looking forward to it, because he knew now nothing was gonna be fun in class.
Still, simmering with the excitement of having the ability to order things he wanted kept him going in the worst class so far, and he’d already done potions!
*
Getting a stack of catalogs from Hedwig at breakfast taught him to NEVER do that again, especially when Professor Mcgonagall took them away and points as well!
The utter unfairness had him digging out the handbook she'd brought him the day before and read it with rage, ignoring the efforts of his house mates to make it all worse.
Nowhere did it say she could do that!
Trudging to flying class he’d been accused of being stupid, flaunting his wealth and status in front of people, being selfish, and so much more it felt like his magic might never be happy again.
Flying though, that was fun!
One boy ended up in the hospital wing though, something of his was stolen and flown away with, and Harry…. Thought really hard about how easy flying felt and didn't go higher than ten feet off the ground, and did only just good enough to not get yelled at.
Or points taken away.
A big big feeling was growing inside of him, but he needed to do some checking first, learn things, and if he did good on anything at all at this point then he’d get even more people looking at him.
Keeping his head down was more important than anything.
********
A few weeks in and he was still not doing very well in classes, potions was a nightmare, no one would partner with him and professor Snape was so mean it made Harry’s tummy ache and his head hurt with blocked up tears and Defense was almost as bad cause that class came with a fierce stabbing kind of pain in his head and all the rest of the classes got mad at him for not knowing things or not being able to do them right but he was eleven for goodness sakes!
Why didn't he get to learn like the rest of them did?
But no, he got docked points left, right, and center, while they got talked through it again and again.
If they’d just leave him alone it might be okay but they kept at him, pick pick pick and his magic sulked and he wanted to cry and hide.
He’d been heading to his favorite hiding place to eat his breakfast from his pocket, he’d not been able to eat it at breakfast time cause of Potions being so scary to look forward to but instead he’d heard a jovial, at least he thought that was the word, jovial voice saying “Harry my boy, come with me.”
‘Oh no.’ Heart sinking so low he might never eat again, it was the Headmaster, the one who watched him getting picked on but never did anything, just like the rest of the teachers, but Harry held onto the fact he had owl post hidden in the owlery to look properly forward to, Hedwig and the shrinking charm his things came to him under were the perfect way to keep what he was doing hidden but maybe Dumbledore had figured it out?
But the handbook said students were allowed to use their owls, and Hagrid had given her to him, so surely he was okay?
He wasn't okay, but it wasn't his owl usage that was the problem, it was his attitude.
Despite the words being gentle and softly spoken in a tone of disappointment brand new to Harry, the lecture on his attitude and behavior and not trying and how could he be so cold to his housemates and he was expected to do better, didn't he know how upset his parents would have been with him and so much more Harry stopped listening after awhile, just nodding and whispering sorry every now and then.
The handbook said this wasn't allowed either, that he should have his head of house with him, or a guardian, but no one wanted to have him, not the real him anyway, or help the real him either, so he bit his teeth tight together and looked as sorry as he felt to have to be there being talked at like that and the man finally let him go and Harry was late to class and did try and say why but….
Ten points down he shut up as his class hissed at him in rage.
*
That night his bed was soaked in something nasty and a note said, “Shut the fuck up in class!”
Looking at the stinking mess Harry turned right around and slept in the common room, resolving to do something about the bed later, but when morning came it was clean and fresh, so he got yelled at for telling tales and lying.
Watching how Ron smirked and later high fived his brothers it was easy to know who’d done it, even if not why.
Why be so mean to someone clearly struggling so much? And he was clearly trying so just, why?
Pulling the curtains into place so people would think he was in the bed if they checked the room he looked around, his trunk was already plundered by his roommates, they’d gotten his first ever box of sweeties and gobbled them all up, he’d not even gotten a single piece so now everything he owned that might be important was kept inside his pockets, six of them now hidden in his robes so he just…. walked out.
Loading up on food at breakfast Hermione yap yap yapped at him about being greedy and selfish so he frowned at her and said, "What possible business is it to you what I do or eat?” and had Ron practically jump down his throat about being mean to her and Harry got up and left, saying, “This is why.” But he knew she’d not understand, because she didn't want to.
He’d slept in the common room again that night, hidden in a corner, and even if it wasn’t a bed it was better than a cupboard so he’d be doing it again until his brand new plan worked out.
*
Saturday, in the owlery, hidden under a table of supplies Harry lifted out his newest packages, and smiled as he tucked them away into a pocket.
Next, as he had a half day free to work on his plan, he set out with excitement, he had to find somewhere safe to sleep, because no one was going to help or protect him, so it was his duty to do it cause right now it was just stinking muck, but that could change to acid, or ants, or wasps, or hexes or worse without any warning at all.
And he had an entire freaking castle to explore which was just ultra cool!
*
Castle exploration was tiring, and he'd found no hidden safe place to sleep tonight, but he was no quitter, so he spent his dinner time reading about protective jinxes until Hermione tried to take his book and he yelled and got it taken anyway anyway, only it was a teacher who scolded him for having it, how dare he be reading about such a subject, didn't he know how bad -
Scowling he thumped the code of conduct to the table and demanded, "Show me where it says I can’t read that! Show me where you get to take my book!”
Oh dear, twenty points down, house mates in an uproar, slytherins laughing loudly at how good for their house standing he was, one single glance at the head table to see if any help might be coming but she took his book anyway so he turned and left.
He’d buy another copy and be damned to them all!
*
Five potions classes in a row someone threw something into his potion, earning him injuries and points docked and detentions galore.
Detention though was actually kind of nice because it got him out of the evenings of hell in the common room and he learned cool stuff about potions ingredients and things like that just by being quiet and paying attention.
His hunting for a safe place to sleep still hadn't gotten him anywhere good but at least if he had detention no one was yelling at him, Snape just gave him horrible stinky nasty jobs to do and left him alone.
Clearly the man had no idea he’d been doing stinky nasty things all his life, and at least these had a reason to be stinky and nasty!
Looking at the pile of pickled jellyfish tentacles he opened his notebook and listed ten piles which was his best guess at how many different lengths there would be and began to measure each one against the embedded ruler on the desk, using cooking chopsticks that made his hand cramp to move them about but he believed it when he’d been told the sting was alive and well in each one and the juice was just as bad, so he used the sticks to tease out each stinger string from the glittering mound, pull it into place, measure and then put it in the ones the same length and then do it again with the next one.
And again
And again
Until he had not ten but nineteen piles each of exactly the same length of stinger string.
Stinger string, he liked how they looked and his private name for them sounded but maybe that was just cause he was tired?
Yawning, he found the right number of small jars and lifted each pile into its own container, using a marker to write on the label how long each batch was and what it was cause once in it was kind of hard to even tell what it could be other than pretty that is, then he ever so carefully poured enough of the preserving liquid into each jar to cover and put the lids on.
Wondering if he should put them away he frowned, no, he’d stack them neatly so the professor would see them easily and he wanted to wash down the table but he didn't know a safe way to do it so he left the little bit of mess, sure to get scolded for it.
No clock, no watch, and any time he tried to do the tell-time spell he got snack time rather than the actual time so he washed his hands, curled into the corner on the floor because no one had told him he could go, and back home he wasn't allowed on the furniture, ate his dinner of lunch time food stolen and hidden in his pocket for later, and fell asleep.
*
The damned brat, Potter's whelp, stupid, talentless, defiant, slacking off never paying attention he was cursed with the damned child!
Sweeping into his labs in the morning, a neat line of jars met his eyes and he scowled even harder at them because, what? Oh, he’d forgotten, detention for the brat, sort Man O War tentacles.
Expecting nothing at all to be right he was a bit stunned to see the careful writing on each jar, including how many stinging tendrils were in the jar, never mind the exact length of each one and he stupidly touched the table that had not been washed down!
Hand flaring to agonizing flame then he saw the body with a full body jerk of alarm and cried out in mingled shock and pain which had the brat blinking and scrambling and bolting when he screamed at them, he wasn't even sure what he said as he summoned the neutralizing agent, swearing in relief as it banked the fire.
Not gone, it would take days to go entirely, but at least now it hurt but let him think.
Wiping sweat off his face he wondered for the first time, why had he put a first year to doing something so dangerous?
*
Having gotten the teacher hurt Harry tried to ask how to clean up after the job so he’d not make a repeat of that mistake but just got yelled at again so he looked through his catalogs and ordered a preserved death's head moth and left it on the professor's desk as a sorry, because it had clearly hurt just as much as Harry’d been afraid it might.
*
Draco was going to annoy Harry to death, it was official, he was like a two legged blond mosquito so this time instead of turning right out of the classroom with the rest of the class Harry ducked left, and left again, then right and down and left and down and left again because he was enjoying exploring now and maybe had enough of breakfast leftovers to eat for lunch.
With excitement at a totally new place to see he lit his wand, which it liked to do so gave him plenty of light to walk through a pitch back bit of tunnel and at the end where it was all caved in there was a gap to the right and he squeezed through, a zig zag and it opened into light, a hallway!
“Cool.” He whispered and looked at four doors, all opening off the right side of the hall and shrugged, starting with the first one.
A closet. Small and clean and empty with three sides all wide shelves to the ceiling linked by ladders of some kind, tiny like if a cat might want to climb up them and he had no idea of why. Useful perhaps but other than being a bit of a puzzle, not very interesting.
Closing it softly he opened the next one, a room about the size of the Dursley’s entire house, huge and empty and stone walls and stone floor and stone roof and it felt heavy and solid, the designs on the floor and ceiling giving away it was a practice room, designed to suck away magic once cast, the defense classroom had one on the floor too but without the matching overhead one.
Easing that door closed the next room was about the size of both Dudley's bedrooms if you put them together and was clearly a work space, tables and shelves and drawers, all empty but perhaps once it had been a potions lab, or a charms workshop?
The final one had him gasping in wonder.
A big room but not huge, walls smooth white and the floor smooth dark, one entire wall though was a window.
Having a window in a room below the actual dungeons might be weird but Harry already knew magic was wicked, and the view through it was amazing, cliffs and rocks and raging waves and big bird-like things flying in sweeping loops and curves that he realized with a shock were actually dragons and he sat down and just….
Watched.
Eventually he spread his homework out and got it done, packed it away into the proper pocket and ate the few left overs he still had and looked again at the bedrooms sized workroom, the practice hall, the closet, and back to the window room again and sighed in relief.
He’d found his safe place to sleep!
*
Next morning he vowed to never sleep again in the tower, because when he’d returned to the tower for some bedding his bed again was soaked with nastiness, his trunk's contents tossed across the floor, and his few clothes he’d left behind were ruined.
Sighing as he repaired, cleaned, and fixed it all as best he could, at least his magic practice was working out, cause if he was quiet, paid attention to how it felt, and focused on what he wanted, it was working great now.
In class…. not so much!
But now he locked the trunk and left the key in it, made the bed and drew the curtains, and left.
He didn't want any of it anyway.
*
Breakfast time wasn’t too bad now, because he sat at the very end, empty seats around him and while he got disappointed glances from the headmaster, cat-calls and jeers from students, and daily scolding from his head of house, at least he could read in peace, as long as he handed over the book to Professor Mcgonagall when she snapped her fingers at him.
Usually she made up a reason to keep them but the catalogue on furnishings he was let to keep, a few mocking cat calls about him wanting an upgrade and he stuffed an entire pile of sandwiches into his food pocket, making each one from the plates of food he carefully tugged to him with his magic.
Bacon, scrambled egg, kippers and pickled beetroot with mustard, he had loads to choose from for later and he’d even managed to eat one now as he focused on his new room and what he wanted to get for it and how he was going to use the other spaces as well.
Taking out parchment he tried to write a letter but nosy girl and meanest boy got all up in his space demanding to know what it was and he sighed and put it away again and headed to the owlery instead.
At least in the smell and the dark people left him alone!
Dear Gringotts Bank,
I am sorry to bother you but is there a way to know how much money I have to spend in my vault, please? I am almost out of what I took that day I was there because I have been doing owl orders for things I need so is there a way to get more too?
I read that you might need me to prove who I am but as I am Harry Potter stuck at school I am putting a drop of blood under the flap, as I read that was how you could tell and they took my key away from me again or else I’d have sent it to you instead.
Thank you for any help you give me,
Harry Potter
Looking at it again he shrugged and handed it to Hedwig and watched her fly away, ducking to the side as his magic pinged a huge yell at him, this curse missed him like the last one did cause of his jumping away but it shattered the table instead of just a gong sound which was so much more powerful than the last one, and there was all yelling and screaming but he’d learned his lesson and had run like hell, so he at least didn't get in trouble for it!
*
Detention again because he couldn't do anything right in potions, cutting up pickled cane toads and Harry might have been sad for them being dead but he'd heard about how much damage they did and these ones were from Australia which made them the bad ones so he paid close attention to the instructions, asked as good as he could for a diagram “So I don’t get it wrong, please, sorry sir.”
Professor Snape was giving him a new kind of look, so Harry made himself as small as possible and kept his knees bent so he could jump away in case the man decided to hit him now instead of just yelling but confusingly he got a diagram and was left alone.
Looking at the pile of toads which was really big, the diagram again to study it for a moment, he carefully picked one up, and put it right down again.
“Ewwww!” wiping his fingers off he jotted the steps Professor Snape had shown him with the first one, checked the diagram again, and began.
Poison glands cut out and placed in piles and then, skull cap, brain, eyes, tongue, skin, feet, spine, guts….
Each part got its own pile, and toad by toad each pile got bigger and the whole toad mountain got smaller and finally he was done.
Still no way to tell time, eyes gummy and head a bit fuzzy he’d started casting the time telling spell just cause it was funny, now it was saying Bottle Toad Bits So You Can Get Some SLEEP so he rummaged for enough jars and matching lids, got out his labels and marker he carefully wrote each kind of toad bit, how many of each, and the date and got it all put away into jars and wiped down the table and rowed them all up neatly.
Smiling as he ate a breakfast sammie he decided being yelled at for leaving was better than staying to be yelled at for sleeping on the floor, so he headed the sneaky way to his new room.
Even without anything but some clothes to sleep on, it was better than the tower!
Dear Mr. Potter
If you wish us to perform a full audit the charge is standard, and will be deducted from your vaults.
Additionally we can freeze your key and provide you with a replacement, standard charge applies.
Currently in the vault you accessed upon your last visit to us you have - looking in shock at the number Harry read on - and are free to come into us to get as much as you need at your own convenience.
However, because you indicate you are unable to travel with school in session, we do offer a shopping card service, prepaid of course.
If interested, you need only request one and your owl will bring it upon her return to you.
Regards,
Gringotts Bank
Dear Gringotts Bank,
Please may I have a shopping card as it sounds easier than coins.
Thank you very much,
Harry Potter
Oh, and yes please to the audit, because no one told me I have vaults so who knows what else I have so please will you find out for me, the normal fee should be just fine.
Holding a shiny card Harry was grateful to his tippy toes it came with instructions and it was the weekend again so he lay on his belly on the floor, picking out furniture, a family hamper service for food, and fresh potions ingredients and a broom.
“This one,” he said to himself because his voice sounded friendly in the silence, “its safe, fast, stable, comfortable, the kind of broom for explorers, the Trail Blazer Nine Hundred and I wonder if they had that many models to get to the perfect one or they just gave it a number that sounds cool but anyway I think this one is perfect, rather than a sports broom, because in the handbook students are allowed to use a broom of their own, as long as they stay within the marked area for their year and only do it within daylight hours, so first years have the castle grounds only but that's a huge space so this one it is.”
Filling out the form he tapped his card to the pay mark and smiled at the ding.
Folding his orders neatly he crept out into the castle and made it to the owlery, glad he'd ordered a clock too, because it was clearly ultra late, he must have been shopping loads longer than expected!
Eventually curling up on the floor, cushioned by a few robes and t-shirts, Harry watched the window until his eyes closed on their own and he slept, safe and hidden away where no one could sneak up and hurt him ever again.