Harry ran through the corridors quickly hurrying to the Dungeons where Mr. Snape had told him to meet him. He was finally going to meet a wizard boy his own age. Harry was tired of not having anyone to play with him. The older students usually talked to him and even played with him at times, but it wasn’t the same. The teachers were always checking up on them anyway, Mrs. McGonagall in particular.

He had his own sitting room in his sleeping quarters and he was allowed to invite students inside as long he told her first. She had to see who was going to be going with him. She would also talk to them first. It was very irritating at times. He didn’t complain; they were letting him do a lot more on his own. Mrs. McGonagall had started letting him wander the castle on his own after his eighth birthday. He was allowed to go down to the Dungeons on his own as long as he went straight to Mr. Snape’s office. He could also go out and play on his own as long as he stayed away from the Forbidden Forest and kept within sight of the castle. He had to tell someone first when he was going outside.

“Hey Potter!” an older boy called as he raced through the Entrance Hall, but Harry didn’t stop to see who it was.

He slowed down when he close to Mr. Snapes office. As he approached it, he thought he could hear arguing. Knowing that he shouldn’t; Harry pressed his ear up against the door. He would be able to hear if they were walking to the door, when they did he would pretend he hadn’t been listening. He was startled to hear it was Mrs. McGonagall and Mr. Snape.

“-Malfoy’s will be a bad influence on him. I just don’t think Harry should be associating with those kind of people. You know what they used to be.”

“They aren’t going to sign him up as a Death Eater, Minerva. Beside’s, who do you think you are talking to?”

“Well, you are a special case . . . but I remember Lucius Malfoy as a boy at Hogwarts. I just don’t know if Harry should be playing with his son.”

“I do recall you and Albus telling me that you shouldn’t judge a child on their parents. When Harry first came here, you reminded me that he was not James daily. I know you remember James as a clever boy, a trouble maker. I remember him as an arrogant, attention-seeking prat who thought the world should serve him. When did rules ever matter to James Potter, or his friends? Do you know how long it took for me to be able to look at Harry and not feel hatred or anger-”

Harry backed away from the door feeling stunned. Mr. Snape had hated his father? Harry turned away from the door, he was angry. So his father had been an attention-seeking prat had he? Harry kicked the wall. The teachers had often told him stories about his parents. Hagrid had even given him an album full of pictures of his parents for his seventh birthday. He had written to his parent’s old school friends to get them. Everyone talked highly of his parents. Mrs. McGonagall had said she enjoyed teaching his father. Mr. Flitwick had thought his father was funny. Even Mr. Dumbledore had good stories to tell about his father.

Mr. Snape hadn’t mentioned him much. Harry had known they had been the same age at school. Mr. Snape had failed to mention that he had hated him. Mr. Snape was one of his favourite people at Hogwarts. The first day Harry had met him he had been nice enough to answer his questions, and he had fixed his glasses. He was always very truthful and funny. He never treated Harry like a little kid the way the others did. He didn’t mind saying what he really thought.

Now Harry had to wonder if he did. He hadn’t been truthful with Harry at all. He should have told him that he hadn’t liked his father. He had never acted as though he disliked the fact that Harry looked exactly like his father. If he hated his father, then he hated Harry. Harry didn’t want to talk to someone who could be so rude about his father. He wasn’t going to go with Snape to meet the Malfoy boy or go with him anywhere ever again.

Harry passed people in the corridors on his way to his sleeping quarters but he ignored them when they called out his name. When he reached his sleeping quarters, he slammed the door and went to lie on his bed. He never wanted to see or talk to Snape again.

When Harry had first arrived more then three years ago, Severus would have been more then happy for the boy to ignore him. He would have been happy that the boy wanted nothing to do with him without an explanation. Instead, he ended up with a small boy who had taken to him right away without understanding why. Severus didn’t like this new Harry.

For a week, Harry had been ignoring him. It had started with the day that Harry was supposed to meet little Draco Malfoy for the first time. He knew Harry had been excited about it but when Severus went to his room later to take him, he had found a very angry boy. It almost reminded him of James Potter glaring at him. Harry hadn’t said a word to him about what had made him so angry. Harry would only speak to him at meal times if he had to.

Severus was determined to find out why. After a week of the silent treatment, he went to Harry’s sleeping quarters to find out why. He knocked on Harry’s door; it was a few moments before Harry opened the door. As soon as Harry saw who it was, he scowled up at him. Severus waited for him to slam the door on his face.

“Can I come in?” Severus asked.

Harry shrugged and stepped back to let him in. They walked over to where Harry’s little sitting area was. There was a chess board set up and also a set of Gobstones. Minerva allowed Harry to invite the older students in to play. It had been Severus who had taught Harry to play chess a year ago. Harry had been stunned to see the pieces fight each other, but had liked the game right away. He wasn’t sure who had taught Harry to play Gobstones.

Harry flopped down in an armchair and looked up at Snape expectantly. Snape sat on the couch and looked around to see that Harry or Minerva had started setting up Gryffindor banners around the room. The Gryffindor lion was on one side of the room, opposite was a banner said: Gryffindor, where dwell brave at heart! The background of the banner was red and the words were gold. Minerva certainly had done a good job on him. Snape pushed away the memory of his first meeting with James Potter, who had said those exact words.

“You are angry with me,” Severus finally said looking at Harry who nodded, he was scowling and had his arms folded. “Would you like to tell me why?”

Harry looked as though he wasn’t going to answer. He was quiet then said, “You hated my dad. I heard you say it.”

Snape stared at Harry for a moment and it came to him. Minerva hadn’t wanted him to take Harry to the Malfoy’s, so they had argued. Severus had asked Harry to meet him down in his office since he had some student’s homework that he wanted to finish marking. Harry had likely heard them talking through the door.

“Your father and I didn’t get along when we were at Hogwarts,” Severus answered. “You know about the house rivalry at Hogwarts don’t you? You know that Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s have more fights then the other houses.”

“Yes,” Harry said stiffly. “but that’s not why you didn’t like my dad. You said he was arrogant and stuff. He wasn’t. Everyone tells me he was good.”

“He was a good wizard,” Severus began rather stiffly as well, he hated to admit it. “However, he was a trouble maker. And when he was a boy he was arrogant. But that is how I saw him. Your father didn’t like me much either. When you are older and in school you will understand it more. I am sure there will be a student you don’t get along with. I am sorry you had to find that out. It wasn’t my intention in telling you that until you were old enough to understand it.”

“What about my mum? I heard she was a Muggleborn. You were a Slytherin. The big kids tell me all the time that Slytherin’s don’t like Muggleborns,” Harry continued.

Harry was keeping eye contact with him now. It was as if the small boy wanted to read his every reaction. Had Dumbledore told him about his love for Lily Evans? He was sure the other teachers hadn’t known anything about it. Severus had asked him not to ever tell Harry about it. By the hard look Harry was giving him, he knew Dumbledore had kept his promise so far. Severus wasn’t ever going to tell him that he had loved Lily.

“At one time, your mother and I were on speaking terms. That is not well known and I’d rather you keep that to yourself, Harry,” Severus said and that was all he was going to say on the subject. “We didn’t speak much as we grew older. I also have no problems with Muggleborns.”

“I’ve heard my mum was a Gryffindor too. So how come you could talk to her but you and my dad didn’t get along?” Harry asked.

“Your mother and father were two different people Harry. It wasn’t just the fact he was a Gryffindor. We just simply didn’t get along at all. We were part of different groups of friends. Believe me, once you are a student at this school, you’ll understand,” Severus said.

“And you don’t mind that I look like my dad? ‘Cause I heard you say that when you looked at me, you felt angry,” Harry asked, he was giving in and Severus was pleased.

“No, I don’t mind. I see Harry Potter when I look at you, and no one else.”

Harry smiled and nodded. Then out of no where he asked, “Sir, why am I famous? Is it because of my mum and dad?”

Severus laughed, used to the question. “The Headmaster will tell you when you are old enough.”

“But when is he going to think I am big enough? I am nine in the summer. That is two years from eleven you know!” Harry whined, he sounded like his old self again.

Harry stared up at the large house with his mouth open. It had been a long time since he had held Mr. Snape’s hand, but he grabbed it now. They had just passed through wrought-iron gates. The house was surrounded by yew hedges. To Harry’s surprise, there was a peacock walking on the hedge, and in the distance he thought he saw another. He looked up at in surprise.

Though Harry was used to the large castle and some of the creatures Hagrid kept around, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the Manor they were approaching. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t seen a house this big or a house with Peacocks. The house he had lived in with his aunt and uncle had been very small in comparison. Harry noticed there was also a fountain in the yard. They walked passed the fountain and climbed onto a porch. Mr. Snape took his wand out of his pocket, and placed it in a hole where a doorbell might be.

A loud bell clang started going off. The door opened by a House-Elf who was wearing what looked like a pillow case, with rips in it for its arms and legs. Harry was used to the House-Elves but he had never seen one so beat up. The House-Elf bowing to them had a black eye and a large cut running down its one arm.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked the Elf after it greeted them then started to lead them inside.

“Just a punishment Mr. Harry Potter. Dobby was a bad elf. Dobby forgot to clean the sitting-room,” The Elf answered.

Harry looked up at Mr. Snape. This didn’t sit well with him at all. He had been punished by his aunt and uncle for not cleaning right. He knew House-Elves were servants, but he didn’t know they got punished if they made a mistake. All the teachers had told him that it was all right to make a mistake. As far as he knew, the House-Elves at Hogwarts were very happy. An older student had once shown him where the kitchens were, and Harry went down to visit them often. It wasn’t far from where the older Hufflepuff boy had told him that he was famous.

Sam Audrick still refused to tell him anything, on their last meeting he had told Harry to go away and leave him alone. Harry didn’t like the boy, but he had heard that no one liked him. A Hufflepuff girl named Lydia Jewel in his year had told him that Sam was always acting like he knew everything. In his first year he had tried making friends that way, but now he just did it because he knew no one liked him. Harry thought it was good to know, he didn’t want to act arrogant or like he was better then anyone. He wanted friends.

“Thank you, Dobby. You may begin dinner,” a cold male’s voice drawled bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry looked around; he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. Now he looked around the room they were in. It was a large room with a crystal chandelier above their heads. There were portraits along the wall. Harry noticed that the people in them moved around too, just like the Hogwarts ones. They were busy whispering and pointing at him. Harry shifted uncomfortably and looked at the three people who were staring at him.

The person who had spoken was walking toward them. The other two were sitting in two of the chairs that were in front of a marble fireplace. One was a woman. The other was a boy about Harry’s age. He had a pale pointed face, blond hair and was wearing black robes. He was smirking at Harry. Harry looked at the woman who was staring at him in interest, she looked almost pretty, but she also had a look on her face as if she could smell something unpleasant. She was wearing light blue witches’ robes. She was also blond.

“So this is Harry Potter,” Harry now looked up at the man, his son looked a lot like he did.

“Hello sir,” Harry said holding his hand out for the man to shake.

“Hmm, so they’ve been teaching him manners,” the man said to Mr. Snape.

The other two had risen from their chairs and were now walking over. The boy was looking Harry over. He walked in such an arrogant fashion. Harry felt a little dislike for him. He had seen his type at Hogwarts. For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered if this was what Mr. Snape had meant about his father. He really hoped not.

“Harry. This is Lucius Malfoy, his wife Narcissa and their son Draco,” Mr. Snape said.

Harry shook hands with Mrs. Malfoy when she approached, then with Draco. Draco looked shocked when Harry shook his hand as well, his smirk grew larger. Harry was aware that the portraits were still talking about him. In fact, some had moved into others’ portraits to get a better look at him.

“I can see the scar,” an elderly man who looked like Lucius Malfoy was whispering.

“Draco, why don’t you take Harry out to the yard,” Mr. Malfoy said as Mr. Snape frowned at the portraits, “and remember our discussion.”

“Come on,” Draco said.

Harry was led through another doorway then the one they had come in. They walked through the house so quickly that Harry barely had time to get a glimpse of the other rooms. From what he did see was that everything was fancy and huge. He saw Dobby scrambling around in the kitchen as they walked passed it. Draco led him into a large room with barely any furniture in it. It had an even larger chandelier then the sitting-room did.

“Oh, this is our ball room for parties,” Draco said in an offhand voice, he had the same drawl his father did.

He took him straight to some patio doors and out onto a large deck. The back yard was very large. Harry could see another peacock by the surrounding hedges. There was also a large fenced in swimming pool a little further down from the deck. Further into the yard was a small Quidditch Pitch. There was also what looked to be a swing set, but the chains of the swings weren’t attached to poles. They were suspended up in midair, held up by something invisible.

“So I am finally meeting the famous Harry Potter,” Draco said staring at Harry with a smirk. “Father told me you might come to visit soon. What’s it like at school? What are they teaching you?”

Harry stared at the boy before answering. Why was it that everyone knew what he was famous for? If Draco who was about his age knew, then why couldn’t Harry? And what was it about his scar that everyone was so interested in? He had caught the Malfoy’s trying to look at it along with the portraits. Now Draco was staring up at it with interest.

“It’s fun there. There are always Quidditch matches and practices. Mrs. McGonagall always lets me watch the Gryffindor practice. There are ghosts there and a poltergeist. His name is Peeves. But he is annoying,” Harry scowled; Peeves had stolen his toy snitch from him when he’d been playing with it in the corridors.

Draco didn’t look satisfied with his answer, so Harry went into detail about the Forbidden Forest, the lake that had a giant squid in it. He told him about a ghost named Moaning Myrtle who haunts a girl’s washroom, the House-Elves in the kitchens, and the enchanted sky in the Great Hall. Draco nodded as if he already knew about that. Harry didn’t want to tell him about his discovery of the room with hidden stuff in it. That was his secret, his hide-a-way.

“Have you seen the Common Rooms? Do you know where they are?” Draco asked sitting in a lawn chair on the deck, Harry sat down as well.

“No, none of the teachers will let me. I know Hufflepuff is near the kitchens and Slytherin is in the Dungeon’s,” Harry answered.

“That’s the house I want to be in,” Draco said smirking. “That’s where all Malfoy’s go. It’s the best house you know. How are we sorted anyway?” there was some eagerness in his voice.

“I don’t know. The teachers won’t let me watch. They said I have to wait for my own sorting like everyone else,” Harry answered; he wished he could tell him more. He did want a friend even if the boy was a little arrogant.

“Oh. So what do they teach you then?” Draco asked. “I heard you know a lot of magic now.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know any. They won’t let me do any magic. They just teach me stuff about the wizarding world,” he saw Draco looking surprised and added, “They don’t let me do anything or tell me anything. It was a very long time that I was allowed to go anywhere alone. Mrs. McGonagall won’t let me have my own broomsticks! They won’t tell me what I am famous for either . . . ” then Harry looked at Draco eagerly, “But you know, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco said in the arrogant drawl, “but I’m not supposed to tell you. Father said you know nothing. He said you still think that your parents-” then he stopped himself.

“My parents what?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, can’t,” Draco said. “I promised I wouldn’t. I don’t feel like being punished thanks.”

“But I won’t tell them,” Harry said feeling frustrated with Draco, why had he started to say it then?

“Father will know. He put a spell on me. That’s why I couldn’t finish telling you. It stopped me. If I went any further then that, he would have found out,” Draco said glaring at the house. “So you aren’t a powerful wizard?”

“No,” Harry answered. “Is that why I am famous?”

Draco stood up and looked out toward the yard. “Didn’t I just say I can’t tell you? We thought you would be since you went to Hogwarts already.”

Harry stood up as well; Draco started to walk toward the steps on the deck. Harry followed him off the deck, toward the swing set. Harry guessed that the swings had to be held up by magic. He had only seen ones in the Muggle world and he hadn’t been allowed on them. His aunt had made him sit and watch Dudley play on them.

“You thought they were teaching me magic?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Draco said sitting on a swing. “My friends thought so too. You should meet them some time. I wanted them here when you came but father said no. I am having a birthday party soon; you can come if you want. I am turning nine. Are you nine yet?”

“I’m not nine until July thirty-first.” Harry said sitting on the other swing.

The swings started to move on their own without Draco or Harry making them. Harry knew with Muggle swings, parents had to push their kids or else you had to kick off.

“My birthday is June fifth. That’s not long at all. I am going to get a lot of presents too. I bet father buys me a broomsticks. Do you fly well? I am a great flyer,” Draco shouted as the swings started to move faster and faster on their own.

“I’ve only flown the school brooms,” Harry called back, who had learned quickly that they were very old, “but Madam Hooch said I am good. I can’t have my own broom yet.”

He wanted his own broomstick too, but Mrs. McGonagall told him he had to wait until he was twelve. He had tried to get her to change her mind about it on several occasions.

“Mrs. McGonagall, I won’t play on it at all when I’m a first year. I’ll use the school ones then, I promise!” Harry had pleaded but she was stubborn and had said no.

“Really? They won’t let you have a broom? Father always let me get new brooms. I want to get the new Comet two-sixty that is coming out,” Draco called.

He did a jerking twist in his seat and the swing came to an abrupt halt in mid air, and then slowly went back to a hanging position so Harry did the same. Draco got off his swing and beckoned Harry to follow him to the small Quidditch Pitch. He went to a small shed behind one side of the goal posts and pulled out two brooms.

“These are Nimbus seventeen hundreds and they are top of the line. You’ll have to see if you can handle that, Potter. A lot difficult I bet then the school brooms. I’ve been flying since I was five. How long have you been?” Draco asked in a snooty voice handing Harry one; Harry saw that the shed was packed full of brooms.

“Since right before I turned seven.” Harry answered; it almost seemed as if Draco was competing with him. “I had a toy broomsticks before then.”

“I stopped playing with toy brooms when I was four,” Draco said smugly, “then I was flying every where when my dad bought me a real one on my fifth birthday.”

Draco struggled to pull out a heavy box from the shed as well. He opened it up; it had all the Quidditch balls in it. Draco pulled out the Quaffle.

“There are only two of us. We’ll just take turns with this. Maybe on my birthday we can play a real game. I’ll be a keeper first. You are a chaser,” Draco said.

He was bossy but Harry didn’t mind at that moment, it was his stuff after all. As soon as Harry climbed on the broom, he had to test it out. It was a lot better then the ones at school. This one didn’t vibrate on sharp turns. Draco looked disappointed that Harry was a good flyer. Instead of continuing with the game of Quidditch, they began racing each other instead. Harry was disappointed when Mr. Snape came out announcing it was time to go.

“Make sure you come to my birthday party,” Draco said before Harry left when they were inside after they had put the brooms away. “And bring me a good present.”

Harry could hear Mr. Malfoy scolding Draco as they left and smiled.

“You’ve gotten really good at chess,” Bill Weasley said in amazement as Harry beat him. He hoped Bill hadn’t let him win as the older students usually did.

Mrs. McGonagall seemed to approve of Harry talking to Bill and Charlie Weasley. Bill was also Head Boy. He had met them a year before and their younger brother Percy. Harry didn’t talk to Percy much but he liked Charlie since he was a great Seeker on the Gryffindor team. All three Weasley’s had flaming red hair. Bill was a cool seventh year. Mrs. McGonagall had asked Bill to watch Harry for a Saturday because she had a lot to do. He had taught Harry about a game called Gobstones.

It was fun game played with stones. Whenever a player lost a point, the stones would spit a disgusting liquid at the player. Harry had begged Mrs. McGonagall to buy him a set. He already had a chess set. They had played that as well. Afterward, Bill would play with Harry again if he wasn’t busy. He introduced him to Charlie since Harry asked about him and then Percy. Percy just wanted to do school work and had seemed anxious the whole time they had played together.

“You aren’t coming back next year, are you?” Harry asked Bill sadly.

“No, this is my last year of school. But I have twin brothers coming next year. I also have a brother your age and a sister a year younger. They know I’ve met you. They can’t wait to meet you,” Bill answered.

“They know why I am famous too?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and no I am not going to tell you why you’re famous,” Bill answered, Harry had asked him to tell him before. “Now, let’s have another game.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Minerva said pacing in front of Snape’s desk, “the people who talk to the Malfoys . . . ”

“Minerva, what are you going to do if Harry is sorted into Slytherin house? You realize he’ll be associated with people like Draco every day? And as you can see, Harry enjoyed himself,” Snape said to her.

Minerva glared at him, still pacing. When Harry had come back from the Malfoys, he had barged into her office and demanded answers about why he was famous. He had wanted to know why everyone had been staring at his scar. Little Draco Malfoy had almost revealed something to him as well but had been forced to stop from an enchantment put on him.

“They might tell him more then he needs to know,” she said, “And Albus still doesn’t think the time is right to tell him.”

“Well, I wish he would,” Snape said, “he is pestering me about it, and sometimes the students too. I overheard Bill Weasley saying that he wished we would just tell him the truth. Draco had almost told him how his parents had really died.”

“I know, but Albus just doesn’t think he is ready. He says he is too young still,” Minerva said.

“All of you treat him as if he is still the abused five-year-old. Harry understands a lot more then you think he does. He is also very observant. He’s going to keep trying to put all the pieces together until he figures it out,” Snape said. “he watches us to see our reactions and listens to our conversations. He hopes he will pick something up.”

Minerva hadn’t realized this before, and wondered how Snape knew. Before she could ask, he answered for her.

“I’ve seen him listening when we don’t think he is. In the staff lounge when we think he is playing or doing his lessons from his tutor, but he is only pretending. I’ve seen him watch you and Albus talk. I also found out he watches our faces after he found out how I felt about his father. He was trying to see if I was lying to him.”

She knew they had to tell him and soon. It was two years from the time they would be preparing him for Hogwarts. It was hard to believe that he would be a student soon. It would be a lot easier for all of them once he was. He would be in his Common Room or classes. They wouldn’t have to keep an eye on him then. She was sure he had a hiding place somewhere. She just didn’t know where exactly.

“But Albus won’t tell him. What if one of the children reveals something? I just think it would be best if he didn’t go.” Minerva said. “Perhaps we’ll let the Malfoy boy visit Harry in Hogsmeade for his birthday.”

She really didn’t want Harry at a party where old Death Eater’s would be. Harry had already asked what a Death Eater was, and she couldn’t tell him, it would be revealed to him when he knew his secret. A lot of children around Harry’s age that played with Draco Malfoy were the sons and daughters of ex-Death Eaters. She knew the adults would likely stay as well. She shook her head. No, she wasn’t letting him go. If there was a chance he was sorted into Slytherin, she would worry about that later.

“I just can’t allow him to go,” She said, “Severus, you are just going to have to explain that to them. He can visit Draco sometimes. Do remind them not to stare at his scar until he knows the truth. He is getting suspicious.”

Harry lay in bed for several minutes before jumping up excitedly. He was nine years old today. In exactly two years they would be getting his wand and school books. Mrs. McGonagall had promised that they would do that on his eleventh birthday. Being nine-years-old meant he wasn’t a little kid anymore, that’s what Draco had told him anyway.

The boys had kept in contact with each other by writing. Harry usually used one of the school owls to send his letters, but Draco used a big eagle owl. He had been disappointed when Harry couldn’t come to his party, but was glad to find out they were meeting in Diagon Alley for Harry’s birthday. Mrs. McGonagall was going to have it in Hogsmeade, but Draco’s parents hadn’t wanted him to go to Hogsmeade. He would be able to see Hogwarts from Hogsmeade and they wanted Draco’s first glimpse of Hogwarts to be in his first year.

Harry still felt annoyed by Draco’s arrogance but he was the only person his age that he knew. He hadn’t been too impressed with Draco’s remark about the Weasley’s either. He had said in a letter that the Weasley’s were poor and weren’t good enough wizards. Harry had written back that he liked Bill and Charlie Weasley. Charlie was an excellent Quidditch player after all. Draco had told him that it took more then that to be a good wizard. He also seemed to have a problem with Muggleborns. Harry knew plenty of Muggleborns, and his mother had been one.

I heard those Muggles you lived with abused you. How can you stick up for Muggles after that? Draco had written when Harry had told him that there was nothing wrong with Muggles or Muggleborns. Harry knew that just like there could be good and bad wizards, it was the same with Muggles. He had known some very nice Muggles as well. Mrs. Figg had been nice, even if she had made him look at pictures of her cats. Harry wondered what had happened to the tabby cat that had attacked his uncle. He liked cats a lot now after one had protected him.

When he told Draco that not all Muggles were like his aunt and uncle, Draco had disagreed. He told him to read up about what Muggles had done to wizards. He told him that his aunt and uncle had known that Harry was a wizard and that’s why they had hurt him. He had heard it from his father who had been at the Dursley trial. He had written that Muggles just couldn’t accept anything different and so it was better not to talk to them, which included Muggleborns. Harry still disagreed and was sure it would always be an argument between them if they remained friends.

Harry forgot about Draco momentarily when he saw the pile of presents at the end of his bed. He hurriedly went over to the pile and stared down at them. He noticed at the top there was one from Bill Weasley. He was surprised that the older boy had known his birthday. He grabbed it and opened it quickly. It was a battered book, but Harry knew the Weasley family didn’t have much money. Reading the cover, he saw that it was a book about chess strategies.

There were more presents from other students he had gotten to know over the years. A lot of it was small Quidditch toys; everyone seemed to know how much he liked Quidditch. There were also some fake wands. He had a lot of those. He still had his very first one. It had been from Mr. Snape. Charlie Weasley gave him the Snitch he had caught at the beginning of the school year the year before. It had been a spectacular catch; people had talked about it for months.

Harry sat back watching it fly around his room for a few moments before opening more presents. There were the usual ones from the teachers that he always got. They were all toys and books. Mr. Snape had given him a book about wizard and Muggle relations. He had taken Draco’s advice and decided to read more about what had happened in the past. He wanted to understand why some wizards didn’t like Muggleborns. He’d asked Mr. Snape and Mrs. McGonagall for the information.

“I want you to know that you shouldn’t judge them too harshly Harry,” Mrs. McGonagall had said. “Your aunt and uncle are a special case and never deserved children. However, wizards aren’t innocent either. Wizards have in the past tortured Muggles for no reason except for the sport of it. Muggles did what they did out of fear. That’s why it’s better that we are living the way we do. Of course at times there are children born of Muggle parentage such as your mother, but we all know it doesn’t really make a difference and most parents understand.”

He didn’t need her to explain that to him, he already knew all that. He had learned about it from his tutor. He just wanted to know exactly what had happened in the past that had caused the attitude between wizards and Muggles. It might help him understand his aunt and uncle better. He often wondered how they were doing. He knew his uncle had gone to a Muggle prison, he had over heard the teachers talking about it. He had also heard them say that his aunt had been mean because his uncle had abused her as well.

He knew that was true. He had witnessed it himself. He just hadn’t understood it at the time. Now, at age nine, he knew a lot more. His teachers had all helped him understand everything better. Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Snape, Hagrid, and Mr. Dumbledore mostly.

There was a knock on his door. Mrs. McGonagall no longer walked into his room the way she had in the past. She now knocked to respect his privacy. He yelled for her to come in. She opened the door carrying a bundle. She smiled at him.

“Happy birthday Harry. I can’t believe you are nine already.” She said. “I have a present for you.”

“But you already gave me a pack of Exploding Snap cards,” he said pointing at his pile of birthday presents and cards.

“Yes, but this one I would like you to wear today. I thought you could wear a pair of dress robes,” she answered and handed him the bundle.

“You want me to dress up?” he asked surprised as he opened the bundle. It was a pair of emerald green dress robes.

“Not every day you turn nine,” she said. “Once you are dressed, Mr. Dumbledore would like to see you in his office. The password is Sugar Quill. Afterward, meet me in my office. Then we will go to Diagon Alley.”

“Ok, and thanks for the dress robes,” Harry said. Though he really didn’t want to dress up, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

After he was dressed, he hurried to the Headmasters’ office. Mr. Dumbledore was the only one who had his office protected. The Staff room was password protected as well.. Mr. Dumbledore’s office was guarded by a gargoyle.

“Sugar Quill!” Harry said.

The gargoyle moved aside and Harry climbed onto the revolving staircase. He felt excited; he knew he was finally going to find out why he was famous. He knocked on the door and heard him call:

“Enter.”

Harry went inside and looked around as he usually did at all the strange objects. Mr. Dumbledore certainly had an interesting office, he didn’t understand any of the strange stuff but they were fun to look at. He looked around to see if he could see Fawkes the Phoenix, but didn’t see the bird anywhere. He went straight to a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

“Happy birthday Harry. You’ve certainly grown a lot in all the time I’ve known you. You look more and more like your father every day, except you have your mother’s eyes.”

“Thanks sir,” Harry said, everyone always told him he was growing to look more and more like his father. He wondered when he finally would look like him.

“I know you have a special day planned so I won’t keep you waiting,” Mr. Dumbledore continued. “I have something for you. It used to be your father’s. I’ve been holding on to it for years. I thought now you are old enough to have it back. I was going to give it to you in your first year. The circumstances changed of course since you now live at Hogwarts.”

Harry waited with bated breath. It was going to be something to explain why he was famous. He knew it. Mr. Dumbledore handed him a bundle that seemed like the one Mrs. McGonagall had given him. He opened up the package and pulled out something silvery grey. He had never touched anything like it. It felt like water woven into the material. He held it up and felt it more curiously. He wasn’t sure what it could be or why Mr. Dumbledore thought he should have it.

“Why don’t you try it on?” Mr. Dumbledore said with a smile.

Harry wrapped it around himself and stared down at where his body had been. It dawned on him slowly what it was.

“An Invisibility Cloak!” he exclaimed and stared down in amazement, “but they are rare, aren’t they? I heard the big kids talking about how much they wanted one.”

“Yes they are. Your father had leant it to me but he had died before I could give it back. Now I would like to return it. However, I would like to ask for you not to use it to hide from any of us. I think at the age of nine you can use it maturely,” Mr. Dumbledore said.

“Yes, of course,” Harry said, “I will take good care of it too. Thank you for giving it to me. Are you going to tell Mrs. McGonagall that I have it?”

“I’ll leave that up to you. But I do hope you won’t use it to hide from her.”

“Of course not,” Harry said.

He wasn’t planning using it to hide but he did know her well. She would likely take it away from him and give it back when he was seventeen. She always thought he was too young for everything. At times that’s why he wished Mr. Snape was his guardian; he never treated him like a baby. Yet, he wanted her to be his guardian as well. She was a lot kinder then Mr. Snape was.

“Well Harry, I’m sure you have a big day planned for you, and I have some work to do. So I will see you soon,” Mr. Dumbledore said. “I hope you have a good day.”

“Wait,” Harry said feeling disappointed. “I was hoping you would tell me why I am famous.”

“That day is coming soon, but it’s not today,” Mr. Dumbledore answered.

It was a fun birthday in Diagon Alley at first. Normally Harry spent his birthdays at the castle. They had it at the Leaky Cauldron that year. It was a bar, though it served food and non alcoholic drinks as well. Draco was the only other child there. The rest were adults, but they were people Harry liked except one whom Harry didn’t know. He was pleased to meet him when he found whom he was.

His name was Remus Lupin. He had been one of his father’s best friends. From the way he and Mr. Snape looked at each other; Harry knew they hadn’t liked each other either. Hagrid who was also there got along with him, so did Mrs. McGonagall, Mr. Flitwick and Mrs. Sprout. Harry was glad for Draco’s presence. The adults were soon talking boring talk as they usually did, while Mr. Lupin and Mr. Snape glared daggers at each other.

Draco’s bragging wasn’t any better, but Harry could bare it. Draco was telling Harry everything he had missed at the birthday party. He told him all about his gifts, which were apparently all very expensive.

“All my friends are so jealous I met Harry Potter.” Draco continued. “They wanted to know if it was true if you had the scar. They wanted to know if you remembered anything from that night.”

“What night?” Harry asked.

“Oh you know, the night your parents died in the car crash but you survived,” Draco said, but the way he said it, Harry was sure it wasn’t what he had meant.

“Draco, this isn’t the best topic for Harry’s birthday,” Mr. Snape said a very sharp voice that Harry had only heard him use on students. “Talk about something else, now.”

Draco shrugged, “Sorry sir.”

After they ate, most of the teachers said good-bye. It was only Hagrid, Mr. Lupin and Mrs. McGonagall left. Mr. Snape seemed to flee, calling that he would be back to pick up Draco in a bit. Hagrid accompanied them to Diagon Alley. To get to Diagon Alley, they had to go through the back of the Leaky Cauldron and tap a brick three times. It would then open up to the street. Harry had been there a few times before. Once they were in Diagon Alley, Hagrid called good-bye to Harry and left them to do his shopping.

Mr. Lupin stayed with them right to the ice cream parlour owned by a man named Florean Fortescue. They sat at the table eating ice cream, except Mrs. McGonagall who hadn’t wanted any. Mr. Lupin was asking Harry questions about his life, but Harry didn’t mind. He wanted to know more about his father too, so he asked Mr. Lupin questions as well. Draco grew bored, which Mrs. McGonagall noticed.

“Well we should do something else now, shall we?” She said glancing at Draco who had his arms folded and was scowling.

Mr. Lupin looked surprised. “Well yes, I should actually get going. However, I will see you again Harry. It was nice meeting you.”

He exchanged a couple words with Mrs. McGonagall then he was gone. Mrs. McGonagall asked Draco where he wanted to go to next.

“Quality Quidditch supplies,” He said, “I wanted to look at the new Comet two-sixty. It’s the fastest broomsticks yet you know.”

Harry wanted to go as well. Once they were inside the store, Draco pulled Harry straight over to the new Comet-two sixty. He stared at it with such a longing. Harry wanted to look at the other stuff in the shop as well. There were banners for different British Quidditch teams along with the team uniforms. He looked at the Snitches that were packaged in small boxes. The Bludgers that were packaged were vibrating in their packages.

The visited the Magical Creature shop afterward. Harry really wanted an Owl for his own, or perhaps even a cat. He could use the school owls to send letters any time he wanted after all. He petted a large fluffy orange cat with a squashed face fondly. Draco seemed interested in some of the snakes that were there. Harry walked over to a two headed snake and peered in at it. It turned slowly to look at him with both heads.

“I’ve never seen a snake with two heads before,” he murmured to no one in particular.

“We are very rare,” a voice said from the glass tank as one of the snakes mouths opened and its tongue stuck out.

Startled Harry looked around to see if Draco was playing a trick on him, but he was now looking at some poisonous orange snails and smirking. Mrs. McGonagall was petting a white fluffy cat in a cage. Harry looked back at the snake with two heads. He couldn’t have spoken to them. He knew there were people who could talk to snakes, but they were rare. Harry also knew they were not good people. He wasn’t bad, was he?

“Can you understand me?” he whispered to the snake.

Both heads nodded. Startled, Harry backed away. He wasn’t feeling happy anymore. There was something about himself that everyone seemed to know. He had been abused by his aunt and uncle when he had lived with them. Now it seemed he could talk to snakes which was dark magic. No matter how many times the teachers told him that he wasn’t bad, he couldn’t believe them anymore. It was all too much of a coincidence.

Harry walked over to Mrs. McGonagall.

“I want to go back to Hogwarts,” he told her, “I need to talk to Mr. Snape or Mr. Dumbledore.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” she asked looking straight into his eyes. “Surely whatever you need to tell them, I could hear too?”

Harry stared at her for a moment; he looked over to where Draco was still examining the orange snails.

“All right, but I don’t want him to hear,” Harry said pointing over his shoulder at Draco, “and I still want to talk to Mr. Dumbledore too.”

“All right, Harry,” she said, “I’ll tell Mr. Snape to come get Draco, then we’ll go back to Hogwarts.”

Minerva watched as Harry fidgeted in his seat. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with him but he had been acting strange since they had visited the magical creature shop. They had met with Mr. Snape in the Leaky Cauldron so he could take Draco home. Draco had seemed glad to be going home. He had muttered something about the birthday outing not being very fun. She really hoped Harry wouldn’t choose him for a friend. The boy reminded her too much of his father.

They were now sitting in her office. Harry had a troubled expression on his face. Albus was sitting in the chair beside him. He had asked Harry what was wrong, but Harry hadn’t answered at first. Now he looked up at Albus.

“I can talk to snakes,” he said. “That’s bad isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad, but it’s rare,” Albus answered. “How did you find this out?”

“I was talking to a two-headed snake at that magical creature shop. I know that Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes . . . and some of the books I’ve read say it’s dark magic. I am a bad wizard, aren’t I? That’s why my aunt and uncle hurt me and that’s why you won’t tell me why I am famous. Everyone knows it, don’t they? You knew I could talk to snakes, didn’t you?” Harry said, now very angrily.

“Harry, mind your tone,” Minerva told him, but she felt angry with the Headmaster as well. Why couldn’t he just tell Harry the truth?

“Harry, since you are worried that you could be a dark wizard proves you are not,” Albus said gently. “There are wizards who could speak parseltongue, which is what it’s called when someone can speak to snakes,” Harry nodded showing he already knew that, “and perhaps they had been dark wizards. However, having the ability to speak the language does not make you a bad wizard. You will choose your path. Your abilities don’t.”

“But sir, everyone knows I can. That’s why I am famous isn’t it? My parents could as well. It’s very rare for people to speak it,” Harry protested.

“The only people who know you can speak to snakes are in this room. I doubt very much that your parents could speak to snakes and I assure you that’s not why you are famous. I promise you that I will tell you soon why you are famous. I do not want to tell you today. You are not a bad wizard, and no one thinks you are,” Albus answered.

Minerva knew he didn’t want to tell Harry that his parents were murdered on his birthday. She could agree with that but they did have to tell him soon. Harry had his fists clenched in frustration as he looked at one to the other. She knew Snape was right, Harry was growing up and he would understand more then they thought he would. She still liked to think of him as the five-year-old he had once been, but he wasn’t.

“We’ve told you that it’s not your fault that your aunt and uncle hurt you,” Minerva answered him. “Our answer to that will never change.”

Harry nodded, but he was still glaring into his lap with frustration. It had to be hard to know everyone knew something about him but he didn’t know. She knew she would feel the same he did. She looked at him wondering how she could cheer him up.

“Harry, how would you like some birthday cake and pumpkin juice?” She asked.

Harry looked up at her and a grin spread across his face. “Yes thank you!” He said excitedly.