Prophecies, Harry decided, were complete and utter bullshit. ‘You are the one that has to defeat the next Dark Lord!’ this and ‘Harry Potter! Please allow me to have your autograph!’ that. Harry was about ready to become the next Dark Lord so he could defeat himself.
Harry Potter, the boy who lived under the stairs for most of his life. The boy who was excluded from anyone in his schooling life, The Golden Boy . At sixteen, Harry trusts no one, and rightly so.
Harry looked up at the man who was old enough to be dead. He stood up in front of the entirety of the school to pronounce the death of a student. One that Harry had never heard of before. The child was a Hufflepuff. Well, Harry guessed from the solemn looks at the Hufflepuff table. But almost all the school looked upset too. Harry decided it would be best for him to duck his head, as if he could remember the girl.
He guessed it was kind of like how Cedric had passed on from a Dragon incident. How a Beauxbatons girl had been found dead in the Black Lake. How Katie Bell had died. Well, Harry wasn’t exactly sure how Katie Bell had died. He only knew that she had died, and that was about where the information stopped.
Murder just seemed attracted to Hogwarts. As if it were a drunk man that felt the pull of a woman that was batting her eyelash too much at him. That was what the intoxicated man had perceived it as. In reality, the woman had no intention of wanting the man anywhere near her. She just had something in her eye.
Hogwarts was the woman, if you, dear readers, were wondering.
Harry heard slight humming next to his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Luna. She was a fifth year Ravenclaw who did not judge Harry on a prophecy. One that everyone had heard about long before Harry knew he was a wizard.
“I rather dislike these eulogies.” The Ravenclaw mentioned as Harry looked at her. It was almost as if she had this film of gold around her, protecting her and encasing her. It wrapped around her as if she were an angel. “Dumbledore should keep it short with the students. And have longer funerals with the people that cared about the deceased.”
Harry couldn’t help but agree with Luna. Harry didn’t want to sit through funeral after funeral of people that he didn’t care about. The young male used his eyes to look back up to where Dumbledore was standing. The older man seemed to know that someone was looking at him. Which wouldn’t be surprising as he was standing in front of a school filled with over 500 students. Dumbledore met Harry’s eyes, the latter refusing to look away from the staring contest. Until, finally, Dumbledore looked away from Harry to address others.
Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at the long, wooden empty table. He wondered when his food would land on the table. When he would hear the horrid theories that the Gryffindor’s had come up with about the Hufflepuff. Luna would have to leave him alone to return to her own table, leaving Harry surrounded by people who were inferior. Except for Hermione; she was okay and less likely to use him for fame as she was a Muggleborn.
“And as we come to end this eulogy, we remember the students and family of Keely Steele. A moment of silence, please.” Hadn’t they been silent all this time? Harry thought, well, except for the pathetic sniffling from some.
The hall was completely silent. Until a few moments later Dumbledore introduced the Christmas feast. He recommend that if anyone needed to, go see their Head of House for counselling. Harry didn’t pay attention, nor did he need to; it wasn’t like she actually mattered to him in anyway shape or form. He held no memories of her.
“And with that, I hope that all of you will have a safe holiday, even to those staying at Hogwarts. Enjoy the Christmas feast.” Well, that’s one way to end a eulogy. The food appeared in front of the students, as it did. Any wonder that appeared during their first years had disappeared. Harry was left with the thought of how flashy Dumbledore had made the feasts.
Hermione turned to Harry, a look of, what Harry guessed to be, disgust on her face. “He doesn’t even end on a nice note, he goes straight into the feast.”
“It’s not like many people here actually care, Hermione.” Harry ignored the venomous look that came from the fuzzy-haired girl. “Some people just want food.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t be respectful.” Hermione grumbled under her breath as Harry started to pile food onto his plate. Both of the teens said goodbye to Luna as she wandered off to the Ravenclaw table. She passed smiles to those who looked like they needed it. Despite always hanging around Negative Nancy, Hermione thought, she still managed to stay positive. Or, it was a farce. Hermione was never sure anymore.
“I plan on being respectful, there’s just no point to it if there’s nobody that I need to fake around.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she had a fond smile on her face. Harry counted that for something, as Harry started to eat from his plate. Hermione tried not to think too much and instead started putting food onto her plate as well.
Harry relished in the silence between him and Hermione and used it to listen around for the rumours. Ron was talking about how it was because some giant spiders crawled out of the Forbidden Forest and ate her. Others talked about how it was a pack of rogue wolves that had slashed her up on her way to Honeydukes. All of them were utter bullshit, and both Harry and Hermione knew it.
In a whisper, Hermione turned to Harry. “Do you think it was,” she paused and looked around. Ever since Harry had convinced her to start saying Voldemort, she still didn’t want other people hearing her say it. “Voldemort?”
“There’s a big chance that it was him.” Harry left it there when he saw that Ronald Weasley was listening in. “We’ll talk about it later.” Harry finalised as he finished his food, stood up and walked off, to where, Harry didn’t even know. The teen intended to let his feet guide him as he thought.
Many in the castle would question Harry and his thoughts on how Voldemort could’ve been behind the attack. But Harry knew all too well that the man, if he could be called that, had access into Hogwarts. Dumbledore didn’t even know. Only really Harry and Luna knew, and Hermione was about to find out. Those two were the only people that Harry could trust, with anything. Ever since their second year, Ron had a complete fall out with Harry, and in turn, most of his Gryffindor ‘friends’.
Ever since the Chamber happened a young Tom Riddle came back to haunt the world. Harry was unable to save a possessed Ginny and kill a Basilisk as a twelve-year-old. Ever since Ginny died, Ron turned his back on Harry. Most of the Weasley family had forgiven him, due to the fact that he was twelve . But Ron had been clear in his actions that he had no intentions of being Harry’s friend. And then, Hermione had been forced to choose between which friend she wanted to keep.
She didn’t talk to Ron throughout the summer as he was the one that was forcing her to choose between Harry and Ron. Whereas, Harry didn’t actually care . To him, if she wanted to be friends with both of them, it was fine by him. As long as she didn’t mess with Harry on Ron’s orders, then it would’ve been fine. But Ron refused to see it that way.
Hermione ended up turning away from Ron. She didn’t want to deal with him or his dramatic antics saying something like a cliche romantic comedy. The whole ‘if you cared about me, you wouldn’t make me pick. Harry didn’t make me pick’ kinda thing.
Harry hadn’t realised he’d made it to the Gryffindor tower until he heard the Fat Lady asking him for the password. He muttered a soft ‘chanceful for the fanciful’ before continuing on his way. So, sure, Harry had lost Ron, a boy who he thought was his best mate. But he had gained two strong woman that could handle their own and more. Plus, they both proved to be rather loyal and useful.
Something Harry had not expected to come back to was Neville. The latter man was sitting in the common room by himself, Harry was confused. He did not remember Neville being close friends with the girl that died. Then again, Harry didn’t really pay attention to those that weren’t his close friends.
“Neville?” Harry saw the sniveling mess before him turn into a boy that had red rims around his eyes, and a little bit of snot hanging from his nose. Harry didn’t know if he wanted to point that out, so instead, he chose to leave out that small detail.
“Harry! I didn’t think anyone would be getting back from dinner this soon.” Neville wiped his nose, his voice sounded tight and wobbly. “How was the eulogy?” Not knowing why Neville was upset meant that Harry had to play it safe. If he did know the Hufflepuff girl, then anything upsetting or slightly rude would send him back into a state of disrepair. Something Harry did not want to deal with. Instead, he chose a kinder, more polite way of putting how boring the funeral was.
“It was satisfactory, a good send off for what I could assume to be a good person.” Harry needed to pause to think about the effect that his words might have on Neville. Thankfully, he didn’t break down in tears.
“That’s good, I never really met her but I can imagine that it would be good for her family and friends.” Neville said and Harry could no longer hear the ups and downs that were there last time the man opened his mouth. At least Harry could cross the girl off his list of reasons why Neville was crying alone.
Harry watched as the other boy looked around the room. He was refusing to make eye contact with Harry. Harry would be the same if someone had walked into his room unwarranted while he was crying. Neville shouldn’t have done it in such a public place.
Harry stood to get up, about to state to the other boy that he was retiring to bed. Before he could do as such, Neville spoke in a quiet, almost inaudible voice.
“Harry, can I tell you something.” Harry looked at Neville, the other looking back at him, almost definitely, but Harry couldn’t be too sure.
“Of course, Neville, you can tell me anything with a promise it will not reach anyone else’s ears unless necessary.” Harry tried to add a smile onto the end, but even he could tell it was forced. He was positive Neville could tell it was forced too.
“She’s not dead.” Harry stared, dumbfounded at Neville and he’s brash.
“Keely Steele is not dead,” Neville repeated before moving in closer towards Harry, “it’s a cover up.”