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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2023-04-09 20:19:52 +0000 UTCChapter 12: Halloween Fun
Several weeks passed by, and Harry Potter and I continued to work together. We hadn’t gotten closer, as the black-haired youth was still wary of me, but he didn’t seem to be as afraid as before.
He was cautious and kept his distance, but he didn’t refuse me when I began providing him with breakfast and lunch every day. Well, he tried to say no, but I didn’t listen and forced Harry to take the food whenever we met before class.
It was currently Halloween, one of my favorite times of the year. At least it had been, before reincarnating. The British didn’t have the largest celebration of the day like Americans did, though the costumes and candy was still a thing to a limited extent.
The problem for me was that Halloween was very different for the magical world. It was All Hallow’s Day, or Samhain if you were a pretentious pureblood like my father.
For the magical world, the day was a time to honor one’s ancestors (and appease them if they happened to show up as ghosts), and to also take advantage of the abundance of magic. For reasons I was unsure of, magic ebbed and flowed. There were days when it was greater, and times it was weaker. Never truly weak enough to be noticed in day to day living for the average wizard or witch, but these changes existed, and were closely monitored and recorded. Samhain fell onto one of these waxings of magic. Certain spells became stronger, specific rituals could be done safely, and a whole lot more.
And in more recent years, Halloween for mages meant celebrating the defeat of Voldemort at the hands of baby Harry Potter. The mood was a mixture of somber and celebratory, as people lamented the losses taken in the war while cheering for the defeat of one of Britain’s Dark Lords.
One way or another, this meant there were going to be a lot of intoxicated magicals wandering around London, and an equal increase in Aurors making sure the drunkards don’t cause any magical problems.
I didn’t want to be recognized by anyone from the magical side today, for a variety of reasons, so I was waiting eagerly to leave school and go home to do some special potion brewing. I wanted to test if it was possible to use the increase in latent magical energy to brew certain things without relying on any overtly magical ingredients.
“You look excited,” Sam said to me as the bell rang and school was let out for the day.
“Yeah, I’ve got a few projects to work on,” I replied.
“Ah, so you’re not all aflutter at the thought of dressing up for Halloween,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes, as if he’d been expecting it.
“I don’t like scary things,” I replied. “Also, not really a fan of costumes. I do like the candy, though.”
“You sure do,” Sam said, giving me a sideways glance. “I have no idea how you can eat so much and stay skinny.”
“I don’t eat that much!” I protested. “Plus, half of the stuff is for Harry anyways. Boy needs to get some meat on those bones.”
“Mmm, that’s true,” Sam agreed. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be so good at teaching someone. Or to get along with the kid. You’re very… I wouldn’t say stand-offish, but definitely reluctant to open up to people.”
“Guilty as charged,” I said with a nod. “But still, I guess I just… feel bad for it.”
“Because his situation reminds you of your own?” Sam guessed.
“Because his situation is worse than mine,” I replied grimly.
“You think he’s being abused?” Sam asked seriously as we left the school building.
“Absolutely,” I grunted. “And even if he isn’t being hit or starved – which I am fairly certain he is, in fact – he’s being neglected. Plus, have you seen his cousin?”
“The little land whale? Of course I have. Brat’s utterly obnoxious, it’s hard not to notice him,” Sam said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “And he has an ugly name, too. Seriously, Dudley?”
“Yeah. So, you can see why I’d feel a bit protective around Harry,” I said.
“I can see that,” Sam nodded. “Are you going to go trick-or-treating this year?”
“No, like I said…” I began, but trailed off as I heard a commotion going on up the street.
“…than me, you freak?!”
Up ahead, the two people we’d just been talking about were visible. Harry was surrounded by Dudley and his gang of fellow bullies, who were, for the moment, only throwing taunts, and not getting physical.
“Why won’t you leave me alone, Dudley?” Harry asked sourly, keeping his eyes down.
“Because of you, mom and dad took away my new bike!”
“All I did was get a better grade than you in math!” Harry protested.
“Freaks like you aren’t supposed to get good grades!” Dudley snarled. “Freaks like you shouldn’t even be going to school!”
He then shoved Harry roughly, which forced him back, but one of Dudley’s goons – Piers if I wasn’t mistaken – caught him and shoved Harry right back, preventing him from leaving the circle.
“Okay, now I see where you’re coming from with your protective streak,” Sam muttered as he watched the scene with an expression of shock and horror creeping across his face. He then looked around, bewildered. “We’re not even that far from school, either. Why isn’t someone stopping this?”
“Because the administration is a bunch of cowards and incompetents,” I replied, my own voice laced with disgust as I spotted two different faculty members just standing idly nearby and watching, not even trying to do anything. “Anyways, I think I’ve seen enough, come on, Sam, help me break this up.”
Sam and I only managed to take two steps forwards before Dudley opened his stupid mouth once more.
“You should have died along with your parents! No one wants you!”
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Not even someone like Harry could let something like that slide, and he looked up with fury in his eyes at his cousin.
“Holy shit!” I swore aloud as Harry let out a pulse of wild, emotion fueled magic at those words. The sidewalk under his feet cracked, his hair began to rise as if struck by static, a blast of wind sent fallen leaves spinning and flying through the air and pushed the bullies backwards a few steps, and despite the mostly clear sky, a bolt of lightning crackled down from the heavens, hitting a nearby tree and setting it alight.
People nearby screamed in shock as the tree exploded into flames, and pretty much everyone’s attention was on that pyrotechnical display.
I took the opportunity it provided and rushed forward towards Harry, shoving Dudley and the rest of his goons harshly aside before grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him off down the street before something else happened.
I didn’t bother to look back, and ignored the yelp of surprise that Dudley let out when he fell on his fat ass – sorry, arse – and kept power walking away with Harry. Sam was trailing behind, following me and Harry, and I could feel the confusion in his gaze he was giving me.
Harry had been surprised by my appearance, that much was clear from his wide-eyed expression, and for the moment he was willing to let me drag him around away from his awful cousin.
“What the heck just happened back there?!” Sam finally shouted at me once we were several blocks away from the school.
“Nothing,” I replied hastily, refusing to look at him or Harry.
“Nothing?! You and I have very different definitions of that word, Edward Rose!” Sam snapped, and I winced.
‘Uh-oh, full name,’ I thought as I blanched with worry. ‘He never uses it unless I’ve really pissed him off!’
“Wind and the ground cracking beneath his feet? Hair acting like he’d been shocked? A god-damned lightning bolt?! Alone, they’d a weird happenstance. Altogether, and it’s downright suspicious!” Sam declared. “What just happened, Ed? You know something!”
“What makes you say that?” I uttered.
“Because you clearly acted like you did!” Sam said in exasperation. “You reacted way too quickly for someone who’d have been surprised by it all!”
“He’s kinda right,” Harry said, giving me an apologetic frown when I shot him a betrayed look. “You did seem like you knew what was going on.”
I slowed my pace, and glanced between the two of them. After being stared at by my friend and mentee, I caved in, and decided to do something I hadn’t planned on doing for at least another year.
“I’ll explain back at home,” I replied with a heavy sigh. “It’s not safe to talk about this outside in the open.”
That caused Harry to blink in surprise, and Sam narrowed his eyes at me, but they both nodded after a moment.
I led them back to my apartment, and led them inside, though I did check to make sure Inky wasn’t inside. He was pretty good at knowing when non-magical visitors were coming over thanks to the wards he and mom had set up around the place, but I was still relieved he’d taken the time to pop away for the moment.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been over here,” Sam said, looking around the rather bare living room area. “Always felt your place was pretty depressing from how empty it is.”
“It’s fine, I prefer it this way,” I said, waving his concerns off.
“So, what’s going on? What’s wrong with Harry?” Sam demanded, hands on his hips as he faced me.
“Tea? Coffee?” I inquired, trying to be a good host. And if it kept me from having to speak about what had happened, all the better.
“Stop stalling,” Sam ordered, and I sighed.
“Alright, alright,” I grunted. “And for the record, Harry is perfectly fine. He’s just… look, neither of you can tell anyone anything about what I’m about to reveal to you.”
Harry nodded slowly, and Sam waved at me to continue.
“Harry Potter is a wizard,” I said, deciding to rip the band-aid off right away. “What he did was a burst of accidental magic, which can happen when a young magic user’s emotions run high.”
The two of them stared at me as if I was an escaped mental patient. I rolled my eyes at their disbelief. “Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s a wild and crazy claim, but it’s true.”
I pointed a finger at Harry who recoiled a bit. “You! Haven’t you ever experienced strange things happening around you before? Like the time the teacher’s hair turned blue, or you appeared on the roof without having climbed it?”
Harry jerked in surprise when I brought those two examples up and he stared at me, dumbfounded.
“Oh, yeah, I remember that first incident,” Sam mused. “Her hair was a really bright blue color, wasn’t it? No one could explain how it happened. In the end, it was blamed on a student playing a prank with some dye, but I never bought it.”
“Yeah, that was a case of accidental magic. And unless there’s another magical student at Woolingsby, which to be fair is a possibility, then it has to be because of Harry.”
“How do you know it was me?” Harry demanded, his disbelief slowly turning to anger at what he assumed was a terrible joke at his expense.
I bit my lower lip at that. There were several ways I could do that, but in the end, I decided to use the best example I could think of.
“Wait here,” I instructed, and went over to my bedroom. Inside, I grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been delivered to me this morning off the nightstand next to my bed. My mother had paid for a subscription for me, and as much as it was fluff pieces and propaganda, I found it useful as it let me stay up to date with what went on in the magical world. At least, what the Ministry allowed people to know about. I much preferred the Quibbler, honestly. Their puzzle section was a lot of fun.
The reason I wanted the Daily Prophet right now, however, was for a particular article on the front page, and I shoved it into Harry’s hands.
“Read this,” I ordered him, and he stared at me, then at the paper he was holding, eyes fixating on the moving black and white picture on the front of what was otherwise a completely normal newspaper.
“Um, why is that picture moving?” Sam asked as he stared at it. “And how?”
Harry, meanwhile, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture. Something about the man and woman in it were familiar, yet he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“The Daily Prophet?” Sam continued. “What the heck kind of name is that? Is this… wait, what’s going on here, Ed?”
“Nine years ago, on October 31st, 1981, James and Lily Potter died trying to protect their one-year-old son, Harry Potter, from the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” I said slowly, repeating part of the front-page article the photo was attached to. “Although no one knows exactly what happened that night, the truth of the matter is that the Dark Lord was defeated, and Harry Potter became the first person in history to survive a direct strike from the infamous Killing Curse.”
“I-I don’t understand,” Harry said shakily. “My parents… my aunt said they died in a car accident… that they were drunks…”
“That was a nothing more than a filthy lie spoken by a jealous bint,” I replied sharply, the venom in my voice startling Harry and Sam’s attention away from the magical newspaper. “Your parents are heroes, never, ever, think otherwise.”
The two of them stared at me, before returning to the words on the page.
“What is this?” Sam finally asked, sounding rattled.
“That is the largest and most read newspaper within the magical community of Wizarding Britain,” I explained. “It’s not always the most accurate, as the Ministry of Magic has a pretty solid grip on what they let be published, but it’s good for a surface view at the very least.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam said slowly, still looking confused. “Um, next question: Magic is real?”
“Yeah,” I said awkwardly. “Please don’t say anything to anyone. I don’t want to be Obliviated or worse, fined for leaking the existence of magic to a non-magical.”
“Lemme just sit down real quick,” my friend muttered to himself before sinking onto the couch. Harry sat down beside him, and I dragged a chair from the dining room so I could sit down and face them.
“All those things I did… it was my magic acting up?” Harry asked after a moment. “Like the time my hair grew back overnight after a bad haircut, or the time I shrunk my cousin’s sweater so it’d fit me? Or when my glasses broke, but then they seemed fined a couple hours later?”
“Sounds like accidental magic to me,” I hummed, not recognizing two of the examples he gave as being from the books. “Rather subdued forms of it, honestly. My brother burped up glowing bubbles when he got really excited one Christmas morning, and turned all of his pillows into puppies another time.”
“Your brother… he’s magical?” Sam asked. “Wait, what about you? Are you a wizard?”
“No, I’m not,” I said, trying and failing to hide the bitterness in my voice. “I’m what is known as a squib. A person without magic born to parents who did have magic.”
“Let me explain a few things,” I said when I saw the looks of confusion on the two of them. “First, is that there is a whole society of magic users, hidden all over the world from non-magical people…”
It took a few hours to give a barebones overview of wizarding society, from the Statue of Secrecy, to the local magical government and education system, to what I knew of the rest of the magical world outside of England’s borders.
By the time my explanation was over, both Sam and Harry eyes had glazed over as they tried to process the deluge of information I’d delivered to them.
“Holy shit,” Sam finally uttered. “A whole world full of dragons and witches and magical shit that’d make Gygax froth at the mouth… and it’s been hidden under our noses this whole time for centuries?”
“That’s how it is,” I said. “Again, remember what I said about the Obliviators wiping your mind if you go around spreading this stuff. That’s part of how they’ve kept themselves secret for so long.”
“Yeah, okay,” Sam said with a nervous laugh. “Who’d even believe me, anyways?”
“That’s the spirit!” I said with faux-cheerfulness. I then glanced at Harry. “How about you? Any questions?”
“Why…” he muttered softly. “Why was I never told? About any of this? Why was I left with the Dursleys all this time?”
“Ah, that question doesn’t have an easy answer. Nor is it one you’ll like,” I said with a wince. “Where to start…”
“The beginning, perhaps?” Sam said snarkily, some of his former easy-going attitude surfacing once more.
“It begins over a decade ago, when the terrorist known as the Dark Lord Voldemort led his group, the Death Eaters, on a crusade to murder those they saw as ‘impure,’” I said darkly. “To them, the ‘impure’ were anyone who wasn’t a full-blooded user of magic. The older the family, and the longer the magical lineage, the better. Think Nazis but with a feudalistic bent.”
“They rampaged for years across England. You might remember some of the things they did from the news,” I said to Sam. “The Kent Explosion, the Collapse of Avon-on-Brightly’s bridge, the mutilated corpses found in their homes, and the sinking of the tourist ferry, The Princess, were all done by the Death Eaters.”
“That was them?!” Sam demanded angrily.
“Yes, it was, and many more,” I said darkly. “But some of the worst of their atrocities were done in the dark against their own people. Against magicals who opposed them and weren’t the ‘right sort.’ But one day, all of their rampages came to a screeching halt when they attacked a certain family. The Potters.”
“My parents?” Harry whispered.
“Yes. James and Lily Potter were a young married couple, and they were part of a group who fought against the Death Eaters. They were brave and opposed the Dark Lord directly, even fighting him off a couple times,” I revealed. “This was an insult Voldemort could not – and would not – let stand. And so, he attacked your parents at their hideout.”
“They fought him, but sadly, were no match for his power, worse, was that it was a surprise attack and a betrayal, for their hiding place had been given up by someone they’d trusted with their lives,” I said, and Harry and Sam both leaned in, enraptured by my words. “James was the first to die. And then, in front of your crib, your mother tried to defend you from him. Voldemort murdered her, and then planned on finishing off the Potter bloodline once and for all by killing you.”
I sighed heavily. “Somehow, you survived. Against literally all odds, the Killing Curse, which can destroy and kill anything, did not affect you. And though no one knows how or why, the Dark Lord was destroyed. Blown up, somehow. Likely from his own curse rebounding onto him when it failed to kill you. His entire body was vaporized, though you were unharmed. All it left was that scar on your head.”
Harry unconsciously reached up to touch the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead at that revelation.
“Afterwards, you were taken from the ruins of your house – which had exploded along with Voldemort – by a man named Albus Dumbledore. He’s a famous figure in the wizarding world because he defeated another Dark Lord back in World War Two, and is also the Headmaster of the magical school all magical students in the UK attend. It was he who made the decision to place you with your only living relatives, who unfortunately for you happened to be the Dursleys.”
“Now, as far as the rest of the magical world is concerned, you are a hero,” I stated. “But the truth is no one knows where you are. I assume Dumbledore did it to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” Harry uttered incredulously.
“Yeah. See, even though Voldemort was blown up, his minions still were on the loose. And they were able to blend back into the civilian populace with their master gone, as the Death Eaters had often done their foul work masked and disguised. The few who were caught were punished harshly, though some managed to escape justice by bribing their way out. Keep in mind, most of these Death Eaters were from old and inbred families, and many were rich, which was partly why the magical government had such a hard time against them. Even in a society of spells, gold speaks louder than words far too often,” I explained. “And quite a few of the Death Eaters wouldn’t have hesitated to murder you in revenge for the defeat of their leader. For whatever reason, Dumbledore thought keeping you out of the magical world was the safest option. I disagree completely, but what do I know?”
“Jesus,” Sam whispered. “That’s heavy.”
“Yup,” I said with a nod, before glancing at the clock and wincing at the time. “Wow, half-past six? It’s gotten late. I think it’s time to call Sam’s mom before it gets any later.”
“Sam’s mom?” Harry uttered in bewilderment.
“Or his dad. Got to get you back home somehow,” I said, giving Harry an apologetic look. “I don’t want people looking for you if you don’t go home. Magical or otherwise.”
Harry hesitated, looking at me, and then at Sam. “Do I have to?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” I said with an apologetic frown. “At least tonight is Halloween. Anyone who might be curious about your absence will probably think you were out trick-or-treating.”
“I’ll make the call,” Sam said, getting up off the couch. “Um, where’s your phone?”
I pointed him to the landline mounted on the wall near the dining room, and he went over to it and dialed his family. That left me and Harry alone for the moment.
“Sorry, this must be a lot to take in,” I said apologetically.
“You knew who I was this whole time?” Harry asked, sounding anxious and betrayed.
“I did,” I admitted. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth at the time. But, well, the Statute of Secrecy is a big deal. And I could have gotten into a lot of trouble if anyone found out I was talking to you at all. They might have wiped all my memories of magic. Or worse. And there’d be nothing I could do.”
“Why did you, then?” Harry inquired. “Why did you agree to mentor me? To help me? Because I’m famous?”
“Just because I feared the consequences doesn’t mean I thought you deserved to keep suffering, not when I could have done something to alleviate it,” I replied firmly. “Your fame means little to me. Your wellbeing is more important than that. And when I saw you for the first time… how could I not want to help you?”
Harry looked down at his feet, blushing a bit at that. He wasn’t used to anyone showing him such affection, and had no idea how to handle it.
“I’ll keep teaching you,” I promised. “But now, there’s going to be lessons about magic and the magical world thrown in to help you out when you go to Hogwarts.”
“What now?”
“Hogwarts. The magical school I mentioned earlier,” I said. “Dumb name, I know, but all magical children from the ages of 11 to 17 have to attend the seven-year curriculum to give you a basic overview of magic. It basically covers the equivalent of Middle and High School with a dash of early university level learning. Though be warned, Hogwarts only covers magical subjects. They don’t teach math, science, or non-magical history until your third year. And even then, those are optional classes at best.”
“The lack of math sounds pretty good right now,” Harry said with a chuckle.
“Heh, yeah, I agree, but as much as I hate to say it, math is actually pretty important,” I said with a chortle of my own.
“Okay, dad said he’s happy to come over to get us and give Harry a ride back home as well,” Sam said, walking back to the couch. “He’ll be here in ten minutes or so. Twenty at the latest.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll answer any other questions you two have.”
We chatted for a bit longer, with me giving a few more explanations about the magical world until Sam’s father arrived in his car and took my two guests. I leaned back in my seat once they were gone, and let out a heavy sigh.
“Not how I wanted this to go,” I muttered. “But I suppose no plan survive contact with the enemy. Or Harry Potter, in this case.”
I snickered to myself. “At least things won’t be boring, that’s for sure!”
