Chapter 33: 33 The Dorm

Albus watched the group of Griffindor first year students be led from the hall by their prefect and he couldn't understand how his interactions with Harry had gone so horribly wrong. The other teachers were giving him suspicious looks, especially considering he had been telling them for years that Harry was well taken care of and knew all about the wizarding world.

Now they all knew differently.

He could easily explain it away that he had told Harry's Aunt Petunia everything and then she would be held at fault for not passing along the information, as well as explain how his own reassurances that Harry was doing well came from her and were less than accurate. He knew that wouldn't work with Severus Snape, considering he was as accomplished of a Legilimens as he himself was, so the truth about keeping Harry completely ignorant of the wizarding world to protect him was in order.

Albus almost laughed at the thought. When Voldemort returned, getting knowledge that Harry hadn't grown up in a magical household and was ignorant of a lot of their ways, would probably make him jump for joy. If he thought that Harry could be easily influenced, that was all the better. Anything that could cause the two of them to interact could, perhaps, fulfill the prophecy.

He would have to make sure that it wouldn't happen too soon, however. He wasn't fully prepared to have their final confrontation for years yet. Harry was not ready for the challenge, as far as he was concerned.

Albus sat there until the Great Hall was empty of students and he prepared himself for the oncoming onslaught of the teachers' inquiries. He expected the next ten minutes or so to be quite uncomfortable as he was grilled about everything. He hid his smile, because being uncomfortable was only a part of life as you faced challenges that were not beyond your capabilities.

In all the hubbub with Harry, for the first time in ten years, Albus had completely forgotten to have the students sing the school's song before they left for bed.

*

“Harry?” Hermione spoke and he turned his head slightly to listen as they walked up several flights of stairs. “I've heard a few people whisper about your trunk.” She said. “Why are you carrying it, when everyone else left their things on the train?”

“It can't be stolen.” Harry said. “If I put it down, no one else can move it, because it's mine and they can't take it.”

Hermione's mouth made that little 'o' of surprise and it made her cute face that much cuter. If Harry had been just a little bit older and thought about those things, he would have seen it as the perfect opportunity to steal a kiss from her. As it was, he only smiled and kept walking. The group eventually came to a stop at a large portrait of a fat lady.

“Password?” The lady asked.

“PORTRAITS can TALK?!?” Harry asked loudly. It was a shock to him, because he immediately remembered his own life size portrait that now hung at Madam Malkin's shop. Can I go talk to myself?

The other students gave him odd looks for a moment, then they remembered him saying that he didn't know anything about the wizarding world, so they ignored him.

“Caput Draconis.” Percy said before Harry could cause a further disruption.

The large picture frame opened as if it was a door and behind it was a doorway. The other students waited for Harry to yell or something. When he didn't, they all went inside the large Griffindor common room that was full of squishy armchairs that would be great to relax in.

“Girls of Giffindor House are the spiral staircase to the right, both up and down, with first years at the top and seventh years at the bottom.” Percy said. “Boys of Griffindor House are the spiral staircase to the left, both up and down, with first years at the top and seventh years at the bottom.”

Harry hadn't really paid attention at the Sorting, so he didn't realize that there were only five boys sorted into Griffindor. They went up the staircase to the top floor and found a large circular room with five of the four poster beds with thick red velvet curtains that could be closed for privacy. He saw the other four trunks that the other boys had and put his own onto his bed.

“Great feast, wasn't it?” Ron asked innocently and insensitively.

Harry squinted his eyes and frowned at him.

“Ah, right.” Ron said and opened his trunk to dig out his pyjamas from the pile of things inside.

Harry climbed onto his bed and closed the curtains, then opened his trunk and went inside to grab his writing things. He close the trunk and used it as a desk to write two letters.

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One was to the clerk at Gringotts Wizarding Bank and asked how someone could gain access to his family vault without his permission and to stop all access like that in the future, without his permission, in writing.

The second letter wasn't to the Ministry of Magic like he had claimed. He wrote to his good friend Bertha Jorkins to tell her a very condensed version of everything that happened. He didn't realize that this was the perfect way to ensure that the letter would arrive.

Harry brought both letters to the window and hoped that he could somehow get Hedwig's attention. He opened his mouth to holler her name, when suddenly she appeared around the side of the castle.

“It's so nice to see a friendly face.” Harry said and gave her an owl treat and held out the two letters. “This one is for Gringotts and this one is for Bertha.” He said. “Be careful.”

Hedwig gave him a soft hoot, grabbed the letters in her beak, and took off into the night.

Harry thought about waiting up for her; but, he didn't know how long she was going to be and classes started early. So, he went to his bed and closed the curtains again, retrieved his pyjamas from his trunk and changed, then put the trunk at the foot of his bed. The bed was big enough for him to do that and he still had room enough to make his nest.

He bundled up the sheets and blanket on the bed and made a duplicate of the same setup that he had inside his cupboard under the stairs. He settled down into the bundle and tucked the blanket up to his neck. He fell asleep with comforting thoughts about what Bertha would do when she found out that a creature named Fluffy was at the school and could kill the students if they made a wrong turn on the stairs.

*

Albus had used a house elf to inform the school owlery to intercept any Ministry mail and to bring it to him for inspection of false claims. He had also tried to do the same for Gringotts letters and discovered that he couldn't give that order. He was quoted regulations about interfering with a person's financial affairs and that it was against the law.

He had almost laughed. Almost.

Albus sent a letter to Gringotts with the school's fastest owl and explained that a student was overreacting to school fees being deducted from his vault. He didn't say that it was nonsense, even though he believed it was. He only cautioned them about overreacting about an overreaction and that the boy was traumatized about entering the magical world for the first time.

What he didn't say was that Harry was actually from what used to be a prominent wizarding family, with a long family history. Him just entering their world was highly unusual, considering how famous he was. Everyone knew Harry Potter's name, thanks to the promotional campaign that Albus had championed ten years ago.

Albus had wanted to instill in everyone that inherent wall of respect that they had for famous people, essentially isolating Harry emotionally, and that was perfect for his plans. Harry's name was spoken with almost the same reverence as their more famous wizards like Merlin, and he was amused to think, his own.

He convinced himself that he could recover from this stumbling block and would be able to win Harry over by the end of the year. He needed the boy even more than anyone would ever know. Albus went to his own bed chamber and settled in for the quick nap he needed every night to recharge himself. He had too much to do to spend the entire night in bed. He set his time piece, that was near identical to the one Harry had, and cast the sleep spell on himself. He hadn't had the time to fall asleep naturally in years.

*

Professor Minerva McGonagall was in her own bed chamber and she went over everything that she had seen... and done... that evening. She felt a little shame and a lot of remorse for the way she had overreacted at Harry's behaviour.

Mister Potter. Minerva corrected with a sigh.

As first impressions went, both she and Harry had utterly failed to make a positive one to each other. She had been called down as a teacher and at the time, she could do nothing to refute the statement. She had been too surprised by the situation and the knowledge of her own oversight for Harry... and in fact, for all of the mixed bloods and muggle-borns.

Her own preconceptions had ruled her words and actions. She felt embarrassed at herself for not considering the students and how they felt, even though she had clearly seen how shaken up they were after the first ghost incident. She had dismissed it as first years in a new place and not thought about what that actually meant to someone that hadn't known what was coming, like the other students did.

Minerva changed into her sleeping robes and climbed into bed, her hair loose down to her shoulders, and she laid there and tried to stop her mind from replaying the disappointed look on Harry's face. That was what stayed with her the most. It wasn't the anger, or the powerful spells that a first year shouldn't know, let alone cast so well, it was the fact that he was disappointed in her as a person.

That sat in her mind and dug deep into her soul, because for the first time in years, she regretted the sternness that had gotten her through the last wizarding war and the ten long years since. It took her a long time to finally fall asleep.

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