Harry and the Elements of Accidental Magic
"Boom!" the rumble of the thunder sounded over the school grounds and all the children hurried inside at the beginning rain, while Harry's world sank into a peaceful blackness.
Two hours later, Arabella Figg's telephone rang. It was Petunia Dursley.
"Mrs. Figg, I'm so sorry, but could you perhaps fetch Harry from school? He fainted the third time in a few weeks, and they want me to pick him up and bring him home, but my garden club meeting begins in two hours, and I don't have time to pick up the brat."
"It's all right; I'll go and get little Harry," Mrs. Figg replied gently, though annoyed at the woman's behaviour.
Half an hour later, Mrs. Figg and eight year old Harry were walking side by side along the street. Mrs. Figg was carrying Harry's school bag and gently questioning the child.
"Harry, do you remember what happened, before you fell unconscious?"
Harry scrunched his face in thought, before he replied slowly, "I think that Dudley and his friends were chasing me around the grounds, but they do that all the time, and normally I don't pass out from that." Suddenly, he remembered something. "Aunt Petunia will be so angry that the nurse called her to fetch me. It happened before, and she was very angry."
'I shouldn't tell Mrs. Figg that she locked me in my cupboard for several days without food because of that,' he mused.
In the meantime, they had reached the Dursleys' residence, and Arabella rang the bell, frowning as it took Petunia a few minutes to open the door. Arabella handed Harry his school bag and told Petunia, "The nurse suggested that you take him to the doctor since this is the third time that he has fainted recently. She said he had a bad headache and a fever when he regained consciousness, but she gave him medicine for it. Shall I take him to the doctor, if you don't have time?"
"No, it's all right; thank you so much, Mrs. Figg," Petunia replied impatiently and pulled Harry in the house, pushing him into the cupboard.
Mrs. Figg slowly walked home, shaking her head in annoyance when it began to rain again. 'It's raining a lot nowadays,' she mused, before her thoughts went back to a little boy, who had already fallen asleep on his small mattress. 'I have to speak with Dumbledore,' she decided. 'Maybe Harry is ill or he is having problems that are harming his magic. He has to come and check on the child. Well, maybe Petunia will take him to the doctor today. I'll wait until tomorrow.'
In the morning, Arabella cornered Harry on the way to school and asked if Petunia had taken him to the doctor and what they found out.
"No, she didn't, but I'm fine," Harry replied, although his face was still scrunched as if he was in pain.
Professor Dumbledore was just answering letters from the ministry, from old acquaintances, and from concerned parents, a work, which he absolutely despised, when the fireplace flared and Arabella Figg's head appeared in the flames.
"Hello Albus, I'm sorry to disturb you," Arabella apologized, "but I'd like to speak with you about little Harry."
"It's no problem at all, Arabella, please step through," the Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry replied gently, offering his guest a lemon drop and motioned her to take a seat.
Mrs. Figg told Professor Dumbledore what had happened the day before, causing the old man to give her a thoughtful nod.
"You're right, Arabella, I should go and check on the boy. What time does he normally return home from school, and where does he normally play in the afternoon?"
"He normally returns at half past three, but he rarely plays outside afterwards, because Dudley and his friends always chase him on the playground," the old lady replied thoughtfully.
A few days later, a beautiful phoenix Animagus was hiding in one of the tall trees around the playground of Little Whinging, watching as Dudley and his friends played 'Harry hunting.'
All of a sudden, it began to rain, and Dumbledore remembered that Arabella had told him they had been having lots of rain and thunderstorms, while in Scotland they were having a beautiful golden October. When the first thunder hit, he watched as Harry threw himself on the ground, while Dudley hid under a tree. 'What a stupid boy, standing under a tree during a thunderstorm,' Dumbledore mused, proceeding to clean his tail feathers in the light rain that felt nice on his feathers.
Dudley had run home a long time ago when Harry finally stood up and slowly walked back to the Dursleys' residence. Only Arabella, who was observing the street from her kitchen window, could see that his face was once more scrunched up in pain.
It was a few weeks later that Petunia once more called Mrs. Figg, asking her to fetch Harry from school. When the old lady arrived at the school, the nurse made her sit down on a chair.
"Mrs. Figg, I already asked Mrs. Dursley to take Harry to a doctor several times, but Harry told me that she still hasn't taken him for the necessary check-up. It is not normal for an eight year old to faint every few days without reason. Since you are his babysitter, who is entitled to pick him from school, could you perhaps take him to a doctor? I gave him medicine, and apart from a slight headache and temperature he seems to be fine, but I'm only a nurse and only know so much. Apart from going to the doctor, Harry should rest over the rest of the day."
The nurse handed Arabella a piece of paper with some information for the doctor as well as a pledge of being informed of the results, before she went to gently wake Harry up, who was fast asleep in the most comfortable bed he had ever slept in.
This time, Arabella took Harry home with her. She led him into her guest room and advised him to lie down on the bed until she'd come and get him in order to take him to a doctor, noticing that the child fell asleep instantly. Back downstairs, Arabella fire-called Dumbledore and told him the story.
"Albus, do you think you could send Poppy over to check on the boy? I'm afraid that something is really wrong with him," she solicited the Headmaster, who thoughtfully rubbed his white beard.
"All right," he finally agreed, and ten minutes later, he stepped out of the fireplace, followed by Madam Pomfrey.
"Is that Harry?" Pomfrey asked in surprise. "He's already turned eight years old, correct?"
"Yes, he is very small for his age," Arabella replied, noticing in concern that the Mediwitch's expression grew stern when she waved her wand at the child.
After a while, Pomfrey put her wand away and sighed. "I don't know what he did, but he has completely depleted his magic, which is probably the reason for his fainting spells, as well as his headache and fever. He also has a few other problems, apparently resulting from abuse and neglect he has suffered from the hands of his relatives. Headmaster, I'd like to take him with me for observation for a few days."
Professor Dumbledore sighed, glancing at the Mediwitch, whom he knew he could trust completely. "Is that really necessary, Poppy?"
"Poppy, you have to approach him carefully," Arabella threw in thoughtfully. "I don't think the Dursleys have told him anything about the existence of magic."
"Then maybe we should wake him up and speak to him a bit about it," the Headmaster sighed and lightly shook Harry's shoulder, causing the child to stir.
Harry looked incredulously at the old man. "Are you a fairy?" he finally asked in absolute amazement. "You look like one of the fairies in my school book."
"No Harry, I'm not a fairy, my boy, but I'm a wizard," Dumbledore smiled.
'A what!' Harry thought horrified, knowing that wizards as well as magic didn't exist, but he knew better than to contradict an adult.
"These two people are Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey," Arabella hurried to introduce her guests. "Did your relatives ever tell you what you are, Harry?"
Harry gave the old woman a terrified look. She had never called him names before, like his family did. Slowly, he nodded his head and replied hardly audibly, "Yes, I'm a freak."
"No Harry, you're not a freak," the Headmaster replied gently, ignoring the furious glare Poppy threw in his direction. "You're a wizard like me, and will eventually be a very powerful one. Harry, I'm the Headmaster of a magical school called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where magical children begin their training in magic, which they attend for seven years. You will also attend our school when you're eleven. However, Madam Pomfrey, who is the Healer at Hogwarts, wants to take you to the school for a few days for observation, because we're a bit worried about your fainting episodes."
"Excuse me, Headmaster, but I think you're wrong. I mean, I can't be a wizard. I'm only Harry, Harry Potter, a burden and a good for nothing freak."
"Believe me, Harry, we know exactly, who you are, and we knew your parents quite well. They were also students at Hogwarts until a few years before you were born," Dumbledore explained gently. "Now Harry, while Madam Pomfrey takes you to Hogwarts, I'll speak with your relatives and tell them that we're going to take you with us for a few days in order to clarify what's wrong with you."
'Oh no, Aunt Petunia will be so angry,' Harry mused, giving the man with the impressive white beard an anxious nod, before he scrambled out of the bed and gave the other lady, who had yet to speak to him, a hesitant look.
"Poppy, please take him into the side room to my office. I trust that it'll be adequate for your examination, at least for the time being?" Seeing the Healer nod, he excused himself and left the room to speak with Petunia.
"Harry, we're going to use a Portkey, which is a magical transportation method," Poppy gently explained, showing the child her ring. "You have to touch my ring and not let go until I tell you."
Harry obeyed, wearily noticing that the lady pulled him into a strong embrace, before he felt a pull behind his navel and all of a sudden the world began to spin.
Feeling the movement had stopped, Harry hesitantly opened his eyes, finding himself in a huge room equipped with many crispy white beds, while blazing sunshine streaming through the large windows on both sides of the room which bathed the room in a warm orange light.
"This is the hospital wing of Hogwarts," Pomfrey explained gently, "but since the Headmaster wanted us to go into his office, we'd better comply." She led the child through the halls that were fortunately empty, since the last afternoon class had just begun.
On both sides of the corridor were pictures, in which people were moving and talking to one other, causing Harry to peer at them in amazement.
"Is that magic?" he hesitantly asked the nice lady, who gave him the impression as if it was all right to ask questions.
"Yes Harry, that's magic. In the wizarding world, all the pictures move," Poppy replied gently and stopped in front of a gargoyle. "Lemon drop," she told the gargoyle, and as it moved aside a revolving staircase was revealed. Both Harry and Poppy stepped on the staircase and were brought to a door that was located at the top, which Poppy opened, motioning Harry through.
They arrived in the most interesting room Harry had ever seen. It was a round office with many bookshelves scattered throughout the room, and on a perch next to the large desk sat a beautiful bird. 'A phoenix,' Harry mused, 'like in the fairy tales we read at school.'
The phoenix trilled a beautiful melody, and all of a sudden Poppy was surprised to hear Harry say, "Hello Fawkes, I'm Harry."
"How do you know his name is Fawkes?" the Healer asked astonished, causing Harry to shrug.
"He just told me so."
"This is interesting. Normally, nobody except for the Headmaster has been able to understand Fawkes," Poppy informed him and made him lie down on the sofa. "Now Harry, I'm going to cast a diagnostic spell on you. It won't hurt you, but it will tell me what's wrong, and then we can see how I can help you. All right, sweetie?"
"All right," Harry replied, giving the Mediwitch a frightened look, when she pulled her wand and mumbled something that he didn't understand. He noticed immediately that it didn't hurt, but he felt a tingling sensation wander up and down his body, before finally a parchment emerged from the tip of the wand, filled with many small letters.
'left wrist broken and healed improperly,
right ankle broken and healed improperly,
bruises on back and arms,
cut on right arm infected,
too light for body size,
too small for age,
magical level at twenty percent,
temperature 38.2 (100.7)'
Pomfrey frowned, seeing that the results matched her earlier findings, and handed the parchment to Dumbledore, who just entered the room.
"I could tend to his bones and the bruises immediately; however, I have to break his bones and mend them again, and for that I need him to stay overnight in the hospital wing, where I can monitor him all times. The headache and light temperature he is running could either be an after effect of his fainting due to the use of too much magic or result from the infected cut, which will be the first thing I'll mend," she explained. "As I said I assume that he used a huge amount of accidental magic; however, I can't be sure of that. I suggest that I see to his bones after he had at least a day of rest."
"Very well," Dumbledore replied, nodding, and sat down next to Harry to speak with the child, while Poppy tended to his injuries. "Harry, do you remember doing any kind of magic, before you fainted?"
Harry shook his head, a terrified expression on his face. "No, Professor."
"Harry, magic is nothing bad," Dumbledore said gently, "and many children use accidental magic when they're angry or frightened."
At that moment, the door to the office opened, and Professor McGonagall entered the room, looking unbelievingly at the scene. "What is happening here?" she asked in surprise.
"Ah Minerva," the Headmaster said smiling, "I have someone here, whom you'll be thrilled to see."
McGonagall stepped nearer to the sofa and stopped dead in her tracks. "Harry?" she asked uncertainly, causing Poppy to fill her in about what happened.
"Hello Harry," the Gryffindor Head of House said gently. "I'm Minerva McGonagall, and I knew you quite well when you were a baby. Your mother often brought you to me to babysit. I'm glad to have you here for a while."
"Hello Mrs. McGonagall," Harry replied, and a small smile flashed over his face.
"Harry, Professor McGonagall can tell you a lot of stories about your mother," Dumbledore explained. "However, I believe that it's time for us to head to the Great Hall for dinner."
"I'm done anyway," Poppy said thoughtfully. "I'll come and check on you again later, Harry."
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, noticing that he felt much better than before.
The Headmaster and his Deputy Headmistress took Harry with them to the Great Hall, smiling when Harry once more watched the moving pictures on the walls in amazement. "I suggest that you sit at the Head table with us tonight. Tomorrow I'll introduce you to some of my students," McGonagall told Harry on the way, causing him to give her a grateful smile.
Before dinner began, Dumbledore made a short announcement. "Dear students, I'd like to inform you that we are having a guest for about a week. Eight year old Harry Potter is staying here in Madam Pomfrey's care for the moment. Please be kind and don't forget that he's only eight and grew up with Muggle relatives. Don't bother him with questions about his past, which he won't be able to answer anyway."
"The ceiling is charmed to look like the sky outside," Minerva explained gently to Harry, who was staring at the many small stars he could see on the ceiling with a mixture of anxiousness and amazement.
All the teachers were very friendly to Harry, and the boy soon relaxed in spite of the large number of people, who were assembled in the Great Hall. There was only one teacher, who looked at him with an expression of absolute loathing on his face, just like the one Harry knew so well from his uncle.
"Who is the teacher over there in black?" Harry whispered to Minerva, who was sitting on his left side.
"That's Professor Snape, our Potions Master."
"He hates me, doesn't he?"
McGonagall threw the child a shocked glance, before she hurried to deny the question. Harry all of a sudden heard Snape hiss at the Headmaster in a quiet but upset voice.
"Other students have to wait until they are eleven to come to Hogwarts, not depending on whether their parents are Muggles or whether they are sick or performed accidental magic. Why are you making exceptions for the brat?"
Before the Headmaster could even think of a reply, all the teachers' eyes turned to the ceiling where dark clouds were swirling in front of the stars and it began to snow heavily.
During the next few days, Harry stayed in the guest room of the Headmaster's quarters except for one night on the weekend when Madam Pomfrey healed his bones and kept him overnight. Professor McGonagall introduced him to Bill, Charlie, and Percy Weasley, who were all Gryffindors.
When Harry asked hesitantly, if he could attend some classes to get an idea of what classes at Hogwarts were about, McGonagall agreed with the Headmaster, Harry, and Brian, a Gryffindor first year, that Harry could accompany Brian to all the classes of the Gryffindor first years on Monday.
Harry absolutely loved all the classes, and even Professor Snape behaved and stopped himself from letting out any snarky comments to Harry. 'The Headmaster probably told him to be nice to me,' Harry mused, feeling that the professor still didn't like him. After dinner at the Gryffindor table, Harry accompanied Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall to the Headmaster's quarters and enthusiastically told them what a great day he had.
"How long is Harry allowed to stay here, Albus?" McGonagall asked the Headmaster, who gave her a questioning look in return.
"I'm going to keep him here as long as Poppy wants to observe him, which is at least a week, provided that he doesn't faint again."
"All right then, Harry, would you like to attend more classes?" Minerva asked gently, causing the child's eyes to twinkle happily.
"Yes please; may I go along with Brian again?"
"Yes, you may Harry, but let's try something," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully, pulling a wand out of his desk.
"This is your mother's wand, Harry. When you're eleven, you'll have your own wand, but sometimes, the parents' wands also work for their children. However, since you're not eleven yet, your magic might be too weak for it to work. You may try it out if you want and keep the wand as long as you're here at Hogwarts."
Harry hesitantly took the wand, and a feeling of warmth spread through his body. He pondered, which spells he had learnt during the classes he had attended that day, and glanced at the Headmaster's desk with a mischievous smile on his face. He pointed his mother's wand at a stack of parchment on the desk and moved the wand, stating clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa."
The parchment hovered in the air to the other side of the desk, causing Harry to smile happily.
"Very well done, Harry," McGonagall commended him warmly. "According to Professor Flitwick, not many first years are able to make a feather move the first time they try and it's certainly not any easier with a stack of parchment."
Harry spent the whole week attending the first years' classes with Brian, who was very kind and explained to Harry everything the boy didn't understand. He enjoyed himself immensely and was happier than he had ever been before in his life. One day, Charlie Weasley taught him how to fly before the Gryffindors' Quidditch practice, and the whole Quidditch team looked on in amazement at the small boy, who flew exceptionally well in spite of being on a broom for the first time in his life.
"Harry, I hope you're sorted into Gryffindor," Oliver Wood, a second year, who had just made the House team, told him. "We'd love to have you on the team."
"Thanks a lot. I wish I was already eleven," Harry replied sadly. 'If I just could remain here at Hogwarts; I love it here, and everyone is so friendly to me; nobody calls me names, yells at me or beats me.'
However, on Friday evening when Madam Pomfrey came to check on him, she threw him a compassionate smile and said to Dumbledore and McGonagall, "I still have no idea what caused his fainting episodes, but during the ten days he spent here nothing happened, and since everything else healed well over the time, I believe that he can return home if he needs to. I still don't think we should let him go back to such an abusive, neglecting family though."
Seeing the terrified expression on the child's face, McGonagall said softly, "I completely agree with Poppy. We should keep Harry here. But if that's not possible, could he at least watch the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match tomorrow morning before going home? What do you think, Albus?"
"All right. Harry, you may watch the Quidditch game tomorrow morning, and afterwards I'll take you back home to your family."
Harry threw Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall a grateful look, before his face changed to an expression of pure panic, and all of a sudden a huge bout of thunder shook the tower, seconds before Harry passed out, not noticing the thunderstorm that began raging outside of the castle.
The three adults looked at each other in shock, until the arrival of Professor Snape pulled them out of their reverie.
"Headmaster, what was that? That wasn't just mere thunder. It shook the whole castle," the Potions Master enquired.
"No, my boy, it wasn't merely thunder. We just witnessed that Harry is an elemental and can control the weather with his accidental magic," Professor Dumbledore replied gravely.
Only now, the teacher noticed that the child on the sofa was unconscious. "What happened, if I may ask?" he enquired in a soft, silky voice, causing his three colleagues to sigh.
"Albus told him that he had to return to his relatives tomorrow," Minerva explained shortly, causing the Potions Master to snort.
"As much as I hated the boy's father, he seems to resemble Lily a great deal more. Anyway, from the data Poppy gained in her check-ups it's evident that he was abused and neglected at home. How can you send a child back to such a household? I know Lily's sister. She always hated magic. She absolutely despised me just because I was a wizard, even when we were children. Seeing how powerful the boy is and what he can do with his bouts of accidental magic, you can't send the child back there, Albus," Snape said firmly. "We have to keep him here and teach him to gain control of his emotions and his powers."
"Exactly," McGonagall and Pomfrey agreed simultaneously.
"You're probably right," Dumbledore replied pensively. "I have to speak with Firenze. Maybe he can teach him everything he knows about the elements and the powers controlling them. I will also teach Harry to control his powers. He might be able to perform wandless magic as well. However, the question is who would be willing to become his guardian. Even if I'm willing to teach him during the day, perhaps taking turns with Firenze, I believe that I'm too old to take him in. Minerva? Severus? Poppy?"
"I think Severus would be the best," McGonagall replied firmly. "He's the youngest and exactly the same age Harry's parents would be."
"You think I, Severus Snape, should raise the offspring of James Potter?" Snape asked incredulously. "I will most definitely not!" With that, he strode out of the room with his cloak billowing behind him, throwing his colleagues a menacing glare.
"I'd also be willing to watch him over during the day when everyone else is teaching," Poppy offered. "Give me some time to speak with Harry and with Severus. Maybe I'll be able to help change his mind."
Everyone agreed and the teachers decided to keep Harry in the Headmaster's guest quarters until they were able to make a long-term decision. Finally, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand at Harry and sighed. "Exactly as it was when he came here ten days ago." She woke him up and handed him two potions, causing him to sigh in relief.
"Thanks Madam Pomfrey," Harry mumbled tiredly, before he drifted off into a much needed sleep.
Fortunately, Harry was wide awake and feeling much better in time for the Quidditch match in the morning. It was a bright, cold autumn day, and Harry sat between Professors McGonagall and Snape in the teachers' stands, knowing that he had to cheer for Gryffindor quietly in order not to offend the teacher on his left side. However, a few minutes into the game he had already forgotten everything around himself and cheered for both teams. Half an hour later, he noticed something golden just over the Slytherin end of the Quidditch pitch and excitedly whispered to the person next to him, "There! The Snitch!"
"My, you'll make a good Seeker, when you're older, Mr. Potter," a soft, silky voice replied, causing Harry to look at the teacher next to him, startled.
'Oh, I completely forgot, who was sitting next to me,' he mused. "Thank you, Professor; I'd love to play Seeker for one of the House teams, and the Snitch is definitely my favourite ball," he replied, smiling.
"I heard that you had a flying lesson with the Gryffindor Quidditch team; I'd be willing to introduce you to the Slytherin team captain, if you were interested to fly with another team as well," the professor offered.
"Yes sir, I'd like that very much," Harry replied happily. "I'm so glad that I get to stay at Hogwarts and don't have to return to my relatives," he told the teacher, feeling too happy to even consider whom he was talking to, while he was looking for the Snitch once more.
"I believe that immediately, Mr. Potter; I know your aunt," Snape replied, causing Harry to throw him a sceptical look.
"How do you know my aunt?" he finally asked.
"Your mother and I were very good friends."
"Really?" Harry asked in absolute delight. "Professor, would you mind telling me about my mother some time?"
Severus sighed. "I can tell you about your mother, and I believe that I still have a few photographs of her too. I'll inform you when I have time," he promised, causing Harry to thank him profusely.
Finally, the Gryffindor Seeker caught the Snitch, ending the match, so that Professor Snape and Harry were pulled out of their conversation. "Are you interested to join the Slytherin Quidditch party? Even though they lost the match, they're going to have a party," Snape told Harry when they rose from their seats.
"I'd love that," Harry replied smiling and quickly informed the Headmaster, before he followed the Potions Master down to the dungeons. Harry enjoyed himself immensely and noticed quickly that the interaction with all the students was a lot of fun, not only with the Gryffindors. 'From now on I will have the meals at different tables in the Great Hall,' he decided while he happily sipped his pumpkin juice.
All of a sudden the Head of Slytherin called him, "Mr. Potter, come with me please," and Harry wearily followed the professor into his office. "I promised to show you a few pictures," the teacher said gently, motioning Harry to take a seat, before he handed him a picture of a beautiful young woman.
"That was my mother?" Harry asked in absolute amazement, looking at the woman, who waved at him and threw him a kiss.
"Yes," Severus replied, sighing. "She was a beautiful woman and the gentlest witch I ever met. You may take one of the pictures with you if you want."
"Really?" Harry gasped, hesitantly reaching out for the picture. "Thank you so much, Professor," he whispered, noticing that his throat seemed to close itself, while tears began to well in his eyes.
"It's all right, Mr. Potter. Now, I believe we should head up to the Great Hall for dinner, before Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall get worried."
"Why would they? They know that I'm with you, don't they?" Harry asked in surprise but obeyed immediately.
Unbeknownst to Harry, late that evening, a visitor entered Professor Dumbledore's quarters.
"Albus, you have to promise me that you ask him without manipulating him as you do with all of us, but in case he agrees I'd be willing to do what you want me to do."
"I'll ask him; thank you, my boy," the Headmaster replied with his eyes twinkling merrily.
"Harry, even if you remain at Hogwarts, one of us has to become your guardian," Dumbledore explained to Harry on the next day. "While nearly all the teachers here would be willing to take you in, I believe that we should give you the opportunity to choose, whom you wish to stay with. Of course, we're all here for you, and over the time that you are here until you are old enough to become a student, we'll all take turns teaching you useful things."
Seeing that Harry seemed to consider the matter, Dumbledore added, "As much as I'd like to take you in, I'm afraid that I'm too old, and I also think that Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey are a bit old to raise a child on their own."
"But who is younger?" Harry asked in confusion. "Well, Professor Snape of course, but he wouldn't want to become my guardian," he mused aloud.
"Why wouldn't he want to? He explicitly agreed, Harry," Dumbledore quickly reassured the child.
"But I thought he hated me," Harry began, feeling slightly confused when he remembered the day before.
"At first, he was a bit reserved, because you resemble your father so much, whom Professor Snape didn't get along with too well, but I believe that his opinion of you has changed completely during the last ten days. By the way, he was the one, who made me change my mind about sending you back to your relatives."
'That's hard to believe,' Harry mused, sighing. 'Oh, that's a difficult decision.' "I don't know; I'd like Professor McGonagall, but I'd also like Professor Snape as well."
"Well, shall we call them here and ask, if they'd be willing to jointly become your guardians?" the Headmaster suggested, smiling at the excited child.
By the time Harry went to bed on Sunday evening, he had his own room in the castle, situated not far from the Headmaster's office with two doors that led into the living rooms of Professors McGonagall's and Snape's quarters. He also had two new guardians and was extremely happy.
While the Headmaster had visited the Dursleys to make them sign over the guardianship to Minerva and Severus, the two new guardians had set up a study plan for Harry for the next few weeks. He had two hours of classes with Firenze each morning, followed by a class with the Headmaster until lunch. In the afternoon, the Headmaster would teach him again, provided that he had time, and afterwards Harry was supposed to do his homework or rest in his own room, until the end of the afternoon classes. Afterwards, Professor Snape wanted to teach Harry how to occlude his mind, assuming that Occlumency would be able to help him get his accidental magic under control.
When both his guardians entered his room around curfew, Harry threw the two teachers a huge smile. "Thanks a lot, Professors, for preventing the Headmaster from sending me back to the Dursleys and for taking me in. I've never been so happy in my life."
"You're welcome, Harry. We're glad to have you here," Minerva replied softly, while she gently tucked him in.
Over the next several months, nobody could say that the frequency of thunderstorms increased like it had in Little Whinging in autumn. Only once in January, Harry caused a small snow storm, when it took the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Seekers four hours to catch the Snitch, which he had already spotted just thirty minutes into the game.
Thanks to Mushcorn for her brilliant beta-ing!
Thanks to Mushcorn for her brilliant beta-ing!
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.