Chapter Text
Harry waded through the Complicit hoard that was the majority of the Hogwarts populace and past the Jeering faces of a sizable friend group of Hufflepuff fourth and third years who were gathered together several feet from the Great Hall’s tables and away from the grand wooden double doors.
It was the first day of classes and thus just the beginning of another year full of hot and cold classmates, grueling school work that somehow took up so much time and still managed to lack moderate math skills and basic science teachings, and of course last but not least at least two or three life changing/altering events in which endangered Harry’s life. How riveting, really now.
Harry sighed, Bracing himself for the cold stares of at least three fourths of the Gryffindor house, all of whom thought Harry was an attention seeking liar who fabricated a grand tale involving the death of one of his own classmates either entirely out of delusion or simply good old pure attention seeking. Well, let it never be said that he had known most of them to be particularly wise. Or empathetic. At least not when it came to him to be certain.
He shuffled sideways to avoid two bickering sixth(or fifth) years in his house who were hovering over the Ravenclaw table.
Upon sitting down on the sprawling wooden bench of the lion’s table, Harry was bombarded by Ron’s enthusiastic chewing and Hermione’s consequent scolding, “It’s just basic manners, Ron!!”, as she read over the contents of one of her “morning reading” books leaned up against the contents of a particularly heavy and sturdy milk jug.
“Whatcha’ up to, mate?”, Ron asked with a seemingly out of place curiosity to his voice.
“Um, breakfast?”, Harry asked more than stated. “I don’t really know what you’re asking, Ron.”
Ron put his fork down, leaving his half(partially) uneaten sausage on his plate, “Yeah, but you have that: “I'm so done with everything and I’m going to do something that will make everybody stare at me like I’m a particularly surprising and complex puzzle.” look at you on your face, and it’s only like two and one fourth bloody days into our stay at Hogwarts this year. So you know it doesn’t bode well.”
“No it doesn’t.”, Hermione chimes in, after glancing at Harry over the rim(edge) of her book, and looking back down at the clearly endlessly fascinating book chapter.
“Wha-”, Harry balks, sensing betrayal.
“I mean, you do get that look to you sometimes to be honest, Harry.”, Neville added in at the end, slightly sheepishly.
Harry gasps in mock Betrayal, and fake sobs, “Oh Neville, my favorite Gryffindor! How could you do this to me!?”
“Favorite Gryffindor?!”, Ron squawked in clear offense.
“You heard me.”, Harry said, smiling slightly, behind his cup that he was drinking from.
Ron was about to protest more when he spotted the mischievous sparkle in his eye and relaxed his shoulders, playfully rolling his eyes.
“Neville’s simply so nice you see.”, Harry continued, “He doesn’t even assume that I willingly arranged my entrance into a tournament that was actually just a living death trap simply for the sake of glory and fame that of course, you know as my long time friend I love so much. In fact I think that I just might crave more of it.”
While Neville started blushing at the surprise compliment, Ron looked to the side , an awkward mix of cowed and slightly humorous.
“I think Neville is my favorite Gryffindor too.”, Hermione said, hiding her wry smile behind her still massive book.
“Okay, okay, I’m a right prick who needs to be more reasonable and wisen up I get it, ouch.”, Ron mumbled.
Harry cackled, scaring a nearby first year, who had snuck up to try and grab a picture of syrup near the group of eating friends.
“Harry!”, Hermione mock chided.
“Listen to Hermione, Harry. You’re scaring the children.”, Neville giggled, scolding him in a low tone.
Harry sniffed, tilting his nose upright and holding his head up high, in the same fashion as an unfortunately familiar pink resident of Hogwarts castle. “Why, I never!! To accuse me of such a thing, really now!”, he intoned, imitating the higher, slightly nasally, stuffy pitch of one beloved teacher, Delores Umbridge.
The three others in the conversation along with a nearby Ginny along with the Weasley twins who were also listening in all burst into raucous laughter that was perhaps far too loud and obnoxious for the early morning.
“But seriously, Harry.” Ron continued, “Why did you come in looking so done with the world?”
Harry bit back a sigh and breathed out a harsh breath through his nose. “Just you know, the beginning of yet another year….” He poured himself a small bowl of oatmeal that his stomach was able to handle so early into the year and took a measly bite before continuing, “I mean of course I’ve always loved Hogwarts ever since I first came here but I could do without the yearly gossiping crowds of human piranhas and yearly attempts on my own life. The usual bullshit, you know.”
“Language.”, Hermione muttered half-heartedly as she set her book down flat on the table.
“Yeah, that makes sense….”, Neville said, flummoxed at what to say about the particular solution to make him feel better.
“Also I just have a bad feeling.”, Harry added tensely, continuing to pathetic bites of his now practically room temperature oatmeal.
“Oh no-”, Hermione began, as herself as well as Ron, when he bothered to truly listen both knew about Harry and his oddly on time, and even relevant, so called “feelings.”
Just then Dolores Umbridge burst in through the twin double doors of the entrance to the dining hall with eager and purposeful strides, with a pile of important books in her hands stacked up to her chin.
“I KNEW it!”, Harry yelled(crowed), slamming the palms of his hands onto the Gryffindor table, causing the silverware around him to jostle and clang in disruption and making most of his nearby housemates jump in complete surprise.
Harry sat down and coughed when he realized that it wasn’t just his table mates that were staring at him.
Ginny snickered, an act of utter betrayal.
Harry glared at her as everybody refocused their attention on the already heavily disliked DADA teacher who was now herself approaching the middle of the staff table to presumably talk to Dumbledore.
“What’s she doing?....”, Ron mumbled in dread.
“It could just be regular books….”, Neville suggested meekly, without any real hope of what he was saying actually being true.
Harry snorted, although he greatly appreciated Neville’s brave attempt.
After a few minutes of inaudible conversation amongst the sparkly grey old wizard and the preppy pink nightmare woman, Harry spotted something that boded decidedly unwell for him, an overrated twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes.
“Ah, Fuck.”, was Harry’s only remotely coherent thought.
“Ahem.”
“Well, double fucking fuck.”, Harry then corrected himself.
Ron and Hermione both hissed in suspense and dismay.
Delores muttered what Harry assumed was a sonorus, and then lifted the tip of her want to sit just below her pursed bottom lip and declared, “attention, all Hogwarts students…..”
The residents of the Grand Hall became ensnared in a focused and tense silence.
“Thank you. I have discovered seven important books that will be important to read aloud and thus reveal the ultimate truth of the many present and therefore pressing matters. They have been gifted to me by our very own castle of Hogwarts.”
Harry sucked in a nervous breath through his teeth as confused whispering began to break out as she continued, “Your gracious headmaster has granted me permission to share this important truth with all of you young students sitting before me. These books will put an end to the lies and deceit that certain…. Misguided wizards have decided to spread and therefore cause unacceptable and unhelpful rumors and misinformation.”
“I didn’t think that she was clever enough to know the word misinformation.”, Harry thought faintly as she continued to speak.
“These books were left with a note, promising to open and secondly be readable once a number of reasonable terms were met. Ahem, it says: Dear Hogwarts students and all others, it does not bode well that the times are grave enough that these books are needed. It is, however, certainly and assuredly something that can be fixed. Knowledge is indeed very powerful, especially when they’re heard by the right people. Many have been wrong in the recent past, and many will continue to be wronged in even the near future and onwards unless of course- the truth is revealed. Many lives can be both majorly improved and saved with the information that can be found within these tombs. These rather sacred books, gifted on the behalf of both Hogwarts and Lady Magic, are to be proven and respected as both the ultimate truth, a key to healing hearts and saving lives, and finally enlightening the unenlightened. This letter contains a list of people in which, along with the Hogwarts’s populace of students and staff, of whom should be present to witness the reading. That is the first condition. The second condition is that all of the books must be read out loud for all present on the required list of people, to hear, as well as in order, from beginning to end. Lastly, the third and final condition, on account of the fact that these books will be primarily centered around the person, they must give permission to read through all these books, as is basic decency to do so. This person being(is) Harry James Potter.”
Harry's head slammed into the table with a rather large, and disruptive, thunk.
“Can I say triple fuck now? Fuck it, now its a quadruple fuck. Fucking hell….”, Harry groaned despairingly inside/within his mind.
Everyone, and I mean, everyone stared at him.
“You guys reckon that I can say no and not have the passing up of a chance to save the entirety of the magical world on my conscience? What do you think, guys?”, Harry muttered, his forehead still resting on the table.
“This is absurd, Harry. If this is ultimately accurate and all true, then it’s a complete and utter invasion upon your privacy Harry!”
“Yeah.”, Harry muttered, “I’m sure all the more exciting for most of the people who are here.”
Ginny frowned in frustrated sympathy as all the teachers at the head table started to argue and bicker about the logistics and ethics of the matter and if it was truly safe or even real at all.
“I know.”, Hermione said, completely stumped.
As Harry had picked his head up he noticed the two twins crouching down in front of him to be eye level with him where he was sitting as they both talked to him.
“Listen Harrykins.”, George started to say.
“Forge this is serious.”, Fred quipped back, grinning.
“But in all seriousness Harry-, listen.”, George said in a low tone, looking into Harry’s eyes with complete sincerity. “If you really desperately don’t want to do this, or if you feel you really can’t go through this, yeah? You don’t have to say yes to this. You know how much ingenuity Hermione has, you know Ron can (help)strategize, and hey, the rest of us aren’t too bad if you need us to help you out either, and you yourself are incredibly talented at surviving quite frankly absurd odds. We can figure out another way to still make things better if you can’t do this.”
“Exactly.”, Fred added, he carried on. “We’ve both seen you do so many difficult things over the past several years. Countless things that you didn’t want to do to help save others. You don't always have to make the selfless decisions, Harry. You’re allowed to make decisions and choose things that matter to you personally other than saving someone. You’re allowed to actually care for your own personal feelings.”
Breath hitching, Harry balked, still feeling many people’s eyes on him, fought ferociously to hold back tears that were threatening to well their way from his eyes.
They smiled patiently at him, a knowing look in both of their eyes as Harry, an expert in unseen tears subtly wiped the tears away from his eyes as if he was simply scrubbing his eyes in tiredness and complete exasperation. It wasn’t exactly hard when he was already there.
“Thanks, you guys. I really appreciate you two, and….”
Harry leaned in a bit closer to them to awkwardly admit in a whisper, “I’ve never had anyone really try and tell me anything like that. Not really.”
They looked sad at that news but with none of the pity that Harry hated, just(only) empathy.
“Well it’s about time someone told you then.”, Fred stated, a mater o’ factly.
“No kidding Harry, mate.”, Fred chimed in a bit louder.
“As much as I appreciate it though, and wish that I could just say no way and skip out on this whole awful thing- I couldn’t live with myself if more lives were lost when I had the possible information to prevent it sitting right in front of me. It sucks-, well- sucks is really bloody understatement-, but hey- Maybe it’s not even real or accurate. I mean knowing my luck, probably not. But regardless of whether we can just disregard what’s written/said inside as fake or not, it’s not something that we can just ignore if I have a “choice” about it or not.”, Harry, sighed frustratedly, resigned to a potential upcoming new and personal level of privacy invasion and torture.
George sighed, although still encouragingly smiling, knowing that Harry was too selfless to go on without looking into the potential help for others, even with their twin pep talk slash intervention.
“Well if that’s the case, Harry. Well be here to very impolitely tell people to piss off when they inevitably ask way too nosey of questions.”, Fred pitched in cheerfully.
Harry giggled, “Nah, I can tell them to fuck off, myself.”
“Then of course my good man. You go tell them to fuck off.”, Fred agreed.
“Oi!”, Ron exclaimed.
“We’ll just be your very own, handy dandy back up fucker off-ers.”, Fred supplied, quite happily.
“Noticed how nobody up at the staff table has actually deferred to asking me about my input yet?”, Harry stated in exasperation, abruptly putting his face in his hands, appearing quite resigned.
Neville looked up at the debating teacher and sighed, “I mean hey, they’re Hogwarts staff, what can you expect?”
“Especially with good old Dumbles and Delores running the show.”, George remarked with amusement.