the boy that could have been

hagrid's hut

Once McGonagall dismissed him, Harry practically ran down to Hagrid's, where the others were hesitantly trying to nibble on his rock cakes.

"...was Snape. We saw him muttering! He was cursing the broomstick!"

"Is that why dad was so pissed then?" Harry asked, frowning. They all jumped, and Cress spilt hot tea onto Ron's leg.

"Yeah, I sorta had a chat with him..." Ron said, looking guilty, "And, apparently, Snape is the guy that your dad and his mates used to bully."

"That makes a lot more sense then. Dad was fuming, Mum looked like she was about to murder him, and Snape looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. I disappeared ASAP."

"Is he getting punished for cursing your broom?" Asked Cress.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid, "Even if he don't like yer dad, why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

The four of them exchanged glances, and Harry decided to tell him the truth.

"We found out something about him. He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween and it bit him. We think he's trying to steal something!"

Hagrid looked shocked and dropped his teapot onto Ron's foot ("OW! Why's everyone attacking me?").

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy? That thing has a name?"

"O' course he does, he's mine! Bought 'im off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the -"

"Yes?" Harry said eagerly.

"Don't ask me any more! It's top secret!"

"Snape's trying to steal it!" Cress said seperately.

"Rubbish!" Hagrid said again, "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort. An' he wouldn' try an' kill a student, either! Stop meddling, all of yeh. It's dangerous. Forget the dog and what he's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!"

"Aha!" Said Harry, "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious at himself, but before he could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door. An incredibly sheepish-looking James asked is he could have a word with Harry.

"Now, son." Harry had never heard him sound so serious, "We need to have a chat. Or rather, I'm going to talk, and I need you to listen to me. Let's sit over here." They moved over to a big patch of grass and sat cross-legged, facing each other.

"As you most definitely know, I like a good joke, and in our school days, me and Padfoot much preferred messing around to getting anything done. We were smart enough that we didn't have to try to do well, but that led us to preventing other people from doing our best. And some of things we did - well, let's just say that we made some people very upset. If it wasn't for your mother, I might have ended up in a much worse place. I don't want you to end up the same way. I don't mind you having a laugh and getting in a little bit of trouble, but I don't want you to be mean to anybody - unless they really deserve it - and I don't want you to take anything too far, okay? I love you no matter what, even if you do want to become a swot and a Prefect, that's fine by me. I would be prouder of a son who got straight O's than one who managed to be the most popular, but neglected his studies and screwed up the rest of his life. Don't get me wrong, I love a good laugh and I very much doubt I'll change, but your mother is a much better role model than I am. Please, try to be more like her, or both our heads are on the line."

Harry couldn't find any words to say, and even if he could he was pretty sure he'd burst into tears. He moved forwards and gave James a massive hug.

"I love you, dad."