Lord Harry Potter

Madam Warbeck meandered back into the arts. She talked about a few initiatives she had started or helped to fund with other singers or other artists. Some of them did sound worthy. "It's what I do with a part of the money I make. I have a lot, more than I could spend or allow my children to ever spend. So I hope to nurture a few more...younger talents. Some wonder if I wouldn't be funding the singer who makes me irrelevant. Perhaps. I choose to think of it as expanding the pool of people who enjoy music. Maybe someone younger gets them listening. Maybe that listener eventually finds enjoyment in what I perform, too. So even my good deeds have a little bit of selfishness to them somewhere."

She ended with caution. "It's a hard life with no guarantees. And Madam Luck is pettiness personified. You befriend her, but she does not befriend you, not really. She might stay with you for a while, but she'll evaporate on the wind eventually. But for those who must make art, we do not care that it might never be great art. The trying is enough. And maybe it will become something better, find a bigger audience. Because we must make art. If this sounds like you, you have my best wishes and my sympathy. I know how hard my journey was. I don't know about yours, but I can make a few guesses."

Then she bowed and collected a lot of applause.

It was a very different lecture from others Hermione had scheduled. Harry was turning over what she said. There was some things about fame in particular that made him think. She had said these things after living a life of fame. And that made it easier to accept her words.

Some of Madam Warbeck's fans in the room rose for questions and compliments.

Harry did stand to ask a question. The rest of the room went silent. To them, and probably the rest of the country, Harry was more famous than any singer. He'd also been a little snarly since that horrible Quidditch match and its aftermath. Okay, a lot snarly. The reattached finger on his hand didn't feel quite right. Nothing did.

Madam Warbeck didn't seem to recognize him, the distance perhaps?

"Hello," Harry said.

She smiled back at him.

"When you're having a moody day, how do you become unmoody?" Harry asked.

There were a few giggles from the other students in the room, perhaps as a comment on how moody Harry had been.

"I lie," she said. "I dress and I tell myself I have to run my errand. Then, whatever is on the inside, I stuff it there when I go out and get done what I need done. When I'm home, I can be what I am and feel what I feel."

Harry frowned. He had to lie and pretend he wasn't angry when he was?

"As I said, it's not fair. I'm supposed to have a life. But many of the usual attractions are hard. Say, going to the Leaky Cauldron for a pint? It became a lot less fun when it turns into a mob scene."

"Is it worth it?" Harry asked.

"I wish people could enjoy my music without needing to gain my attention when I'm shopping for quills. But that's not the way witches and wizards are. I learned to adjust, but it wasn't easy. Some days, many decades on, it still isn't easy."

Harry thanked her and sat down. Sirius had said many of the same things. But he was Padfoot. This was someone who had been famous long before Harry's mother was born.

Harry thought about what she said. He didn't think change would be very easy, but he had to do something.

Harry needed a place where he could be what he was. The room on the fifth floor? It was private, save for Dumbledore's ghost and Peeves... and whoever Peeves told about the Fulmenifer. Harry was being sought out by a few cautious spirits to inquire.

Harry wasn't the Love Doctor to Ghouls...

He needed to get back to work on his year-project for Runes, too. So less snarling in public, more research in private?

Harry didn't think he would ever like his fame, but perhaps he could get better at handling it. He also decided to send Madam Warbeck a letter. He appreciated what she had to say – and he didn't want to get between her and her fans after the talk was over. Harry's fame was the kind that overwhelmed.

Though she had said she championed young artists because she cared about art.

Harry didn't want to dabble in something like that just because it was there. What did he really care about in the wider world? He didn't know. He found he knew little about what was out there. Good on Hermione for educating all of them.

So this was a future plan. If he had to have this fame, he might find something useful to do with it.

This was another long-term project. He wouldn't rebuild Godric's Hall with a third-year student's knowledge. He wasn't going to do much with his fame at the same age. But he could begin looking for things he might care to fix. Looking was where it started...

Madam Warbeck sang two songs to close out the lesson. She had made herself a few new fans. A clever woman, Harry thought. Many of the Gryffindors Hermione invited were actually very clever people. Maybe they'd hid their cleverness in order to get into this house.

Harry could do with a few extra doses of cleverness right now.

.....

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