"Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do. He's not being attacked or bullied in the traditional sense - though I would disagree with that - so complaining to the teachers is out. But this is just as bad. They're acting as though he is a Nundu about to go on a rampage at any second! We can't force people to talk to him and there lies the problem. He is painfully shy in talking to strangers as it is and people do this !"
Cyrus hugged her closer, his eyes filled with concern as he saw Harry slowly walk back to Daphne. From the distance, he could see the young wizard's shoulders droop slightly, but it was only for a moment before he was walking with his back straight, his strides confident and graceful. Cyrus knew that it was a mask, of course. He was a keen observer; he knew that Harry was wearing a mask from the day he had met the boy. That's why he had been careful in dealing with him, but Harry managed to melt the ice between them over time. He genuinely cared for the boy and he knew that this would affect him psychologically. Smart and mature he may be, but Harry was still a twelve-year-old; an abused twelve-year-old, who found it difficult to understand his own emotions.
"Maybe we should ask him to stay with us for the rest of the holidays," Cyrus murmured. "With Sirius and Amelia leaving the country tomorrow, it's better if he stays with us and not all alone in a large castle."
"I agree," said Elizabeth.
...
Harry was unusually quiet when the last of the guests had left. He had tried to lead them to the Floo, but after the way Minister Fudge, Rufus Scrimgeour and Augusta Longbottom had acted, he desisted. He tried to ignore it, but he could actually feel an ache in his chest at the way people were treating him. He wondered why it felt this bad. After all, he had lived with the Dursleys for years and had to listen to them constantly belittle him. The Muggles in the neighbourhood and at primary school had always ignored him or made snide remarks about his clothes or parents, but somehow this felt different. In his heart, he knew why.
It felt different because this was his home .
The magical world was where he belonged and with the people here treating him like this really hurt. Sirius had explained to him why Parselmouths were as feared in Europe as they were; there had been dark wizards in the past who had exploited the magical language, causing unending chaos. Being quite limited in number, especially in the western world, there had been very few who had the power to stop them as Parselmagic was quite different from conventional magic. Herpo, the foul, was a name which was remembered even after thousands of years because the after-effects of his transgressions and results of experiments where he carelessly broke the sacred laws of magic could be felt to this day .
Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort were other well-known Parselmouths and both of them hadn't helped matters any in trying to improve the reputation of Parseltongue in Europe. The common witches and wizards today were honestly terrified of Parselmagic, thus as an extension, Parselmouths, because in the past, entire villages had been cursed by dark witches and wizards, bringing unending agony to the residents.
Sirius had warned Harry to expect backlash and had promised his godson that he would do his best and stand by him, but Harry had still not expected adults outside the school to behave like this just because of their fear of everything Parseltongue. The reason why he felt so bad was that he had been given a taste of what it would feel like to be accepted and appreciated by everyone and for it to change in an instant was something he had never expected. He did realise something though; fame was fickle. Even though he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the public would just as easily turn against him as they flocked to him. It was a lesson to him, but he had learnt it the hard way.
He was quite surprised by Elizabeth Greengrass' offer for him to stay with them for the rest of the holidays. He refused, though. From past experience, he knew it was dangerous for him to stay with someone when his emotions were all over the place and he had to get himself back under control to suppress them and for that, he needed to be alone. He had explained it as best as he could, but Cyrus and Elizabeth finally ensured his cooperation in coming to their manor every day for lunch and dinner so that they could keep an eye on him. He agreed.
Harry hardly spent a wink that night as he sat on the carpet in his bedroom at Potter Castle, meditating.
His face was expressionless, but from the glow of the fireplace, tears could be seen rolling down his cheeks.
....
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