A nurtured secret

Hello again. Just a quick note to say that I notice quite a few of my readers believe that Harry’s new name is Hailey, I must disabuse them of this notion by stating that it is actually pronounced Hal-lee as in like Hal but with lie on the end. It is a rather pretty name that I felt fit his new persona perfectly. I hope none of you are too disappointed.

---OK OK, I'VE BEEN AN ABSOLUTE TWAT HAVEN'T I! Yes in the last cahpter Lucius was the History of Magic professor, and I've said in this chapter he's the Defence against the dark arts professor. I must apolagise profusedly! As of NOW he is OFFICIALLY, the History of Magic professor. I've now edited the chapter to include this. Hope your not to confused lol. Love you guys for your chapters btw!!!---

***

Bad begginnings


Harry surveyed himself in the full glass mirror that hung on the wall in the girls bathroom and sighed. The female Hogwarts uniform was incredibly unflattering. The plain white school shirt puffed out around his small frame, shapeless and straight laced it turned into a virtual potato sack once tucked in. The skirt although encouragingly short, widened out at the bottom, causing it to flare like some awful sixties creation, and the thick black woollen sixty denier tights were itchy in the extreme.

Sighing he knotted the customary raven claw tie and shrugged into his robes. At least his hair and makeup were looking fabulous, it was the best he could do with this appalling outfit, even his little black dolly shoes with the cute kitten heels became awfully fuddy duddy when put together with the uniform.

Grimacing at his reflection once again, he gathered up his school bag and shoving his hair brush in it swept from the room.

On entering the great hall he found that he was just in time to grab a couple of sausages and a glass of pumpkin juice before he was hustled off to his first lesson which…as usual first thing on a Monday morning was potions.

Arriving also as usual, a few minutes late, he dashed into his seat at the back of the class with about ten seconds to spare until Snape made his usual dramatic entrance.

Having spent the last six years in Snape’s distasteful company, it had never been his intention to keep the impossibly hard N.E.W.T level class up once he changed his identity, but Bennie had pointed out the benefits to keeping up the same classes he had been studying in sixth year as he would have a distinct disadvantage in entering a new class halfway through N.E.W.T’s.

So here he was, once again watching Snape’s incredibly unoriginal dramatic entrance and hearing his equally unimpressive first lesson of the year speech with the utmost disdain, determined that he would be utterly bored for the entire lesson.

But his resolve soon melted away once he got stuck into the relatively easy test potion Snape so benevolently set them to see how much they’d forgotten over the summer, and he withdrew from the class feeling that he might actually have a chance at a passing grade now Snape no longer had a reason to single him out and pick on him in class.

His next lesson was transfiguration and passed just as easily and he went to lunch with none of the dread he’d gone to sleep feeling the night before, and walking to History of Magic his step betrayed a mood of extreme confidence. After all it was the most boring subject anyway, who cared if the teacher happened to be the equivalent of a particularly deformed blast ended screwt?

And walking through the door with a bright smile and a flick of his perfectly groomed hair it took but a moment for Harry to be pinned by an almost familiar steel grey gaze and for the fear to rise in his throat and threaten to choke him.

Evidently he cared.

***

Harry clasped his clammy hands together and watched in distracted interest as his French manicured nails drew tiny crimson drops of blood from his skin.

He’d spent the first part of the lesson simply trying to stop the panic growing in his chest from consuming him completely, it had been all he could do to clasp his ridiculously pink feathery quill in his hand and at least pretend to write the indistinct and unimportant notes Professor Malfoy was explaining on the board down onto his jasmine scented parchment.

Lucius Malfoy scared him, he touched a place deep down in his soul that was raw with pain, and Harry hated him for that. Simply looking at him could cause alternate bursts of petrifying fear and explosive anger, how was he supposed to last an entire year in the class without betraying himself by stuffing the bastards ridiculously silver eyes down his damnedbly pale -

“Miss Evanshire? Are you listening to me at all or do you consider yourself to be above such a rudimentary subject as History of Magic?”

Harry bit back the compulsive urge to throw his desk at the irritating smirk that graced the ex-death eaters features and settled with a tight nod, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Is that conformation that you have been listening or that you feel superior to the subject?”

“Yes sir, I have been listening.” Harry managed through tightly clenched teeth.

The silver gaze currently focused on him narrowed, but Lucius Malfoy said no more on the subject, simply preferring to give a tight nod of his own and preceding to continue to educate the class on whatever he was waffling on about.

For the rest of the lesson Harry kept his head down and diligently wrote notes, never once taking in the words carelessly scrawled on the board with a graceful but obviously disinterested hand. To busy was he with controlling his wayward emotions.

At last the bell to signal the end of class trilled and with a thankful sigh Harry packed up his equipment and headed straight for the door, intending to make as speedy exit as possible.

Lucius Malfoy however, had other ideas.

“Miss Evanshire? If you could stay behind please?” His voice floated into Harry’s burning ears with all the grace of a lilting song, and he was powerless to stop himself from obeying.

Slowly he turned and trudged over to the desk with a feeling of such trepidation, it was only his traitorous feet that kept him from fleeing like the hounds of hell were snapping at his indulgently expensive kitten heels, and that feeling only grew as the last pupil closed the door with a quiet click behind themselves.

At a dismissive hand gesture he sunk into the seat that obligingly moved itself to stand behind him and looking up into the face of the enemy, he barely noticed his hands fiddling obsessively with his bag strap.

Those sparkling grey eyes picked up the movement however, and narrowed perceptively in contemplation of it.

“Miss Evanshire I noticed a distinct lack of interest from you today, and for a student to behave in this way on the first lesson of the year is rather worrying.” The senior Malfoy said, moving around the desk to perch casually on its edge, right in front of Harry.

“How would you know?!” Harry spat, “You’re a criminal, not a teacher!”

“In the eyes of the law I am neither. In the eyes of the law I am a pardoned man guilty of no conscious crime. I am also an experienced professor in the History of Magic, not simply a mere teacher.”

‘I could hit him!’ Harry thought as the rage he was feeling made his already blushered cheeks appear feverishly flushed. ‘I could hit him and he’d never see it coming, he’d never expect it from a petite little girl like me!’

“And you judge me for appearing high and mighty, mere teacher indeed! You should be so lucky! You’re a damned criminal and you know it!”

“Indeed,” Malfoy drawled swiftly changing tack, “The question is, how do you know it? The papers never mentioned the Malfoy name once except to irrevocably pardon it, why are you so adamant that I am in fact guilty of the crimes I have been pardoned of?”

Harry’s fists clenched in frustration, if he were to reveal how he knew he’d blow his cover for sure.

“Everyone knows of your money and influence, if you were pardoned that means you were implicated and knowing you, you used your considerable funds and power to un-implicate yourself in the most effective way possible! It’s obvious!”

The elder man tilted his head and surveyed him with interest, and under that intense stare Harry was forced to remember things, images of cruel uncaring gazes behind skilfully manipulated wands…and he shuddered with the horror of it.

“You have an incredibly sharp little mind behind that swathe of shiny hair Miss Evanshire, I only ask that you apply it to my lessons in future. You may go.”

And Harry wasted no time in doing it, barely had the Professor turned before the chair he’d been sitting in was empty. Wobbling violently on it’s uneven legs from the swift departure.

***

Harry spent the rest of the day in an extremely agitated state, and whether due to paranoia or perception he could swear he felt that impenetrable silver gaze upon him all through dinner.

That night his dreams were filled with images of death and destruction, turning them into nightmares of the most horrific kind, and after the fourth time of awakening with his throat sore from screaming Harry was once again immensely glad that forethought had dictated he erect a silencing charm around his bed.

What he refused to acknowledge however, were the snippets of dreams between the nightmares, the moments when he’d been drowning in long blond tresses that felt like silk against his naked skin, and a soft, cultured mouth had been pressed like a fleeting rose to his own. No, he did not even attempt to remember them.

The next morning he dressed wearily, the fuzziness in his head revealing extreme tiredness, so tired was he in fact that he almost forgot to put his bra on, That could have been an almost fatal mistake for his new identity, he thought shocked that he’d almost made such a big blunder.

He’d taken to dressing behind his bed curtains for obvious reasons, and the gloom behind them insured that he couldn’t properly see what he was doing, from then on he’d use his wand to cast lumos, he thought practically.

His wand had been one of the snags in Bennie’s plan, Harry loved his wand and was convinced he wouldn’t be able to work as well with any other wand when he knew that his own was still intact and worked properly. For days after they’d taken his wand and body, Harry had lain awake in Bennie’s flat thinking up desperate schemes to retrieve his wand from the ministry without detection.

However his worry was assuaged when Dudley had sent Hedwig (who now belonged to him according to Harry’s will) to tell them the wand had been sent out of respect back to the family with a note asking them if they would kindly allow for it to be displayed at the ministry as a tribute to the wizarding worlds great savoir.

However contrary to the Minister’s firm belief that the Dursley’s wouldn’t give two hoots about their golden boy’s possessions, Dudley had pleaded with his father to let him keep the wand because the magical world obviously desperately wanted it and they should do anything they could to get one over on them.

Vernon had eaten this up and his little piggy eyes had twinkled as he wrote the letter explaining they wished to keep the wand, and any other possessions belonging to Harry that were not included in his will, and Dudley had been elevated in Mr Dursley’s opinions and almost in fact back in the pages of his good books.

However this meant Harry had to be extremely careful in the usage of his wand and especially careful not to let Dumbledore ever set eyes upon it, for he knew that he was the only person apart from maybe Hagrid who would certainly recognise the wand.

Shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts Harry climbed carefully out from between his curtains and shrugged on his robes and slipped on his shoes…time for breakfast and the horrors it may well bring.

***

‘Horrors? More like fucking nightmares’ he thought ruefully as ten minutes later he sat reading a letter from the Headmaster himself, a forgotten fork full of eggs dangling from his limp hand.

Dear Miss Evanshire,

I would be delighted if you would consider joining me in my office for a spot of tea after breakfast. The Professor due to be teaching you at this time has already been notified that you will be at least ten minutes late to your lesson.

I look forward to getting to know you.

Professor Albus Dumbledore

P.s The password to my office is Fizzing Whizbees.

Harry sighed, flinging the letter down and watching as it burst into pretty purple flames.

His appetite having left him completely he got up and headed to the nearest bathroom, he had to be absolutely certain his new identity was flawless before meeting the one man who knew him better than any other.

***

Harry trod carefully up the spiral staircase that was for once unmoving. His hands fiddled and fidgeted with his bag strap and his eyes were wide with apprehension. The carpet muffled his tentative steps, the lighter squares on the stone wall where paintings once hung, mocked him with their absence. And once he reached the top of the stairwell, the big oaken door seemed almost… frailer than usual.

Taking a deep breath he lifted a shaking fist, and placed it tentatively on the door, and then knocked.

There was a brief pause and then…”Come in.”

Harry twisted the knob and pushed it slowly open, it protested with smallest of creaks.

The room was almost bare, covering the paintings were black swathes of material and evidently the occupants of the paintings were all asleep, judging the by the level of snoring.

The only pieces of furniture in the room were the desk and two chairs. The funny little wurring machines and gadgets were gone and instead huge piles of paper adorned the desk.

“Sit down do,” Dumbledore said, waving him into the chair opposite the desk with an ink stained green quill.

Harry sat carefully and looked inquiringly at the huge stacks of papers before him. One of the stacks was made up entirely of Daily prophets, and if he craned his neck he could just the front page of the top one.

‘Savoir of the wizarding worlds murderer still at large! Who did kill Boy Wonder?’

Harry was hard pushed to keep the sneer off his face but he had to keep his expression neutral as just then Dumbledore lifted his head to survey him with a detached air.

“Hallie Evanshire?” He asked almost sharply.

“Yes sir,” he said meekly.

“I see you’ve taken an interest in my work, I suppose you’ve heard of Harry Potter’s untimely death?” Dumbledore said flinging a picture of his own dead body down before him.

Harry swallowed a gasp. He never knew news reporters had been at the scene! Seeing his own crumpled body lying in the Dursley’s back garden like that, the fun suddenly went out of faking his own death and clarity unclouded his vision. Allowing him to see just how real and devastating it looked on the front of a newspaper.

“He wouldn’t have liked it spread across the tabloids like that, he hated the thought of innocents being exposed to the awful scenes the war brought, hated innocents dying in them no less of course. This would be his worst nightmare.” Dumbledore said quietly staring at the picture for a long moment.

“Anyway,” He said shaking himself out of his contemplative state. “I’ve delegated all the Headmaster duties into Professor McGonnagol’s capable hands until further notice, for as you can see I’m working on the inquiry into our saviour’s death. However she did insist that I do two things myself. The beginning of year speech…and see you.”

Harry felt his forehead crease a little, why had she insisted that Dumbledore see Hallie personally? Was she onto him?

“She wanted you as a senior new pupil to be greeted by me personally because that has been the tradition for years and because your father was unusually explicit about the way you are to be treated, we would not like to let him down you see.”

Harry nodded, Bennie had been rather stringent in his instructions for Harry to be treated just like any other pupil, to help him settle in.

“So…how are you settling in?” He asked him, his tone now a little lighter and kinder.

Harry thought of the worry and stress he’d been through in the last couple of nights and of how he was once able to trust this man with his fears and nightmares. But not anymore…

“Everything’s fine sir.” He said simply.

Dumbledore nodded, “And are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Yes…immensely,” Harry said after a brief pause.

“Excellent, excellent and how did your lessons go yesterday? I know how confusing such a large and often un-obliging building like Hogwarts can be when your trying to negotiate your way around it for the first time.”

“They were all fine, I managed to find all of them easily enough, it’s almost as if I know my way around already…it’s just…”

“Yes?” Dumbledore enquired, playing absently with his beard.

“How could you let a man such as Malfoy teach in Hogwarts, my father said it was one of the safest places in the wizarding world and yet a Death eater has infiltrated the school, just like that.”

“Miss Evanshire my reasons for hiring Mr Malfoy are not only valid and very important, but they are also reasons to trust Mr Malfoy, I’m afraid I can tell you no more. Now I think that’s everything so you’d better be going to your lesson now-”

“But-” Harry said in amazement, never having known Dumbledore to be quite this abrupt before.

“Shut the door on the way out please.” The headmaster said with a gesture towards the door, head bent and already seemingly engrossed in his next file. “It can get rather chilly in here with the door open.”

Harry did so after he realised Dumbledore actually meant what he said, and shutting the door behind him he found it ironic that for once Dumbledore was giving him even less information than he would usually have done.

***

There we are peeps. Once again no cliff hanger, aren’t I a good girl? Lol.
Please Review as author is starving!