Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

7 June 1992, Hogwarts

He definitely wasn't hoping that Longbottom would somehow finish him off. It was too farfetched for that to happen. Did he simply want to study the boy's protection by having it interact with Voldemort?

And most of all, could Harry even believe a word he said about the fire that killed his parents and razed an entire village off the face of the Earth?

Harry was consumed with these thoughts as he fell into the realm of Morpheus, still feeling tired from his encounter with Quirrell.

The day after officially waking up from his magical coma, Harry decided to just follow Madam Pomfrey's recommendation and not really stress himself. The matron had done a good job when he was in the hospital wing; the Potter scion felt like he was back to his best form, even if his body got sore whenever he cast a significant amount of magic.

So, he spent his last days at Hogwarts with his friends, who had welcomed him warmly. Although, for some reason, Daphne was particularly clingy ever since he woke up. He didn't really get it, to be honest. It was probably because she missed him or something, but Tracy wasn't acting the same, so he didn't really understand. It seems like in this life and his previous one, he would never make sense of what goes on in the minds of the fairer sex.

He had missed his second Hogsmeade weekend. It seems like he was cursed to not visit Hogsmeade this year. Considering what happened in the story at the end of the year feast, with Dumbledore giving away hundreds of points to the boy who lived, he was also not likely to visit the village in the next one either. It's not like he would really lose anything; anything interesting in the village would have an equivalent shop in Diagon Alley. Hogsmeade was originally a wizarding settlement. The whole business growth started because of the proximity to Hogwarts, whilst Diagon Alley was the veritable hub of Magical Britain. It showed in the stores that were in Hogsmeade; it had a few inns, cafes, stores to buy school supplies and a chocolate shop of all things. Yeah, it was obviously geared towards teenagers.

People were staring at Harry and his friends on his way there. Well, it was mostly Harry. Apparently, being attacked by the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor made him some sort of commodity. There were rumours about him being a secret Dark Lord and that he had duelled Quirrell when he had confronted him, hence why the man disappeared without a trace. There were rumours that they were planning on stealing whatever was in the forbidden corridor together and that they had greedily turned on each other.

Still, Harry slowly walked towards the Slytherin table and sat at his usual spot, his friends joining him. The entire room was decked in green and silver. The members of the House of Snakes were all smiling in victory at having won the house cup and all of the privileges that come with it. Of course, Harry knew what was about to happen, that their smiles were about to be turned upside down in a few minutes.

He was proven correct, when Dumbledore proceeded to his end of the year speech, and well, pretty much handed the cup to the Gryffindors. The utter uproar at the announcement was galling. Harry felt bad that at hard work of the fourth years and sixth years, who had made sure that the privileges that came with the house cup would be theirs the following year, was so easily dismissed with barely more than a second's thought. It was disgusting, and a quarter of the school was openly glaring at the headmaster. Of course, outside of the Gryffindors being overjoyed, the other houses didn't really care about the precedent the headmaster just made. Seriously, just deciding to give the house cup on a whim was making it meaningless, and that's not mentioning the sheer enmity that the man was building in a house where he was already fairly unpopular.

Honestly, the house cup was what prevented Hogwarts from falling into chaos. There were just too many students and too few professors. Adding magic in the mix just made this place a recipe for a ticking time bomb, or at least it would be if it wasn't for the house cup. The prize was enticing for older students, so they went out of their way to stop the younger ones from doing anything drastic. Without the credibility of the house cup, and the fairness of earning it, the older students wouldn't be motivated enough to care about it, meaning that Dumbledore had basically told everyone that it was meaningless, that to keep the boy who lived happily, he would gladly just hand it over to his house without even being discrete about it. If he does the same in the following year, the upper years will just stop caring about it, which definitely wasn't a good idea in the long run.

His friends were pretty grumpy about it. An hour after the announcement, Tracy was still grumbling, "I can't believe Dumbledore just gave the cup to Longbottom, just like that."

"Tracy, let it go," Harry retorted gently, "we all knew that he was very biased when it came to his little boy hero. Honestly, I would have been surprised if he hadn't done anything."

Blaise gave him a confused look, "I don't understand…"

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