Potter recounted his tale with a calm voice, never breaking or flinching away as he described the abuse. He looked up when he finished, frowning slightly at the horrified expressions surrounding him and shrugged. "It's alright. Like mama said, they're dead now. It doesn't matter." And the boy looked like he meant it, unperturbed by the entire situation. The both of them were rather blunt, truth be told. But was it something the boy was emulating or was he truly fine with the truth of what had happened? Was this denial, shock, disassociation, or apathy? His mother nodded in agreement at his callous words.
"I am very sorry to hear about that, Harry, my boy. And I am very happy to hear you are doing well now. But there is still the chance that a member of Voldemort's forces might still come after you."
"Are you implying that I cannot keep him safe, Mr. Dumbledore? I assure you, we have excellent wards."
"You must understand my concern, Ms. Adams, Harry has a target on his back -"
They began to argue in barely polite earnest. It was very clear they would have to pry custody of Mr. Potter out of her cold, dead hands.
Dumbledore's concern was valid, although he was pleased by her dedication to the boy. The Adams family was not from England, he was certain. He'd heard of some in America and some in Eastern Europe, but she likely had no ties to Britain. So what had brought her to England? Voldemort had not done much recruiting outside of the country, but it was possible she'd been sent over from Durmstrang, as they were Dark-aligned.
Still, it was obvious that Harry was happy and healthy under her care, already quite advanced in his classes and utterly pleased with her. The two would not be easily separated, and the poor boy had clearly suffered an awful time living with his blood relatives. He owed Harry some happiness. Not to mention that frankly, had she been a Death Eater, the boy would already be dead.
Harry had already made fast friends with the youngest Weasley son. If Dumbledore got any inkling Harry was being raised inappropriately, he could always have him removed into their care.
...
Harry had realized, quite swiftly, that he was not a normal child. In his defense, Luna had never said anything about his odd behavior, but it was clear that Ron and the other boys in their dorm had noticed his strangeness. It only took one incident for Harry to start changing in the bathroom so that he could avoid all their questions about his markings. Luckily, Neville of all people had known about rune tattoos being a religious practice (of nebulous origin and generally old fashioned, but not inherently Dark affiliation) and was able to help convince the others it was not a big deal and to please not tell people.
It was very hard to join in the getting to know each other. The other boys had not been raised in isolation with almost exclusively dead people for company. Thank Hades for Quidditch. All conversations could be redirected to discussions about really appreciated that about Ron and Neville in particular. He got the sense that they both realized when he was trying to avoid a subject and always let him talk about something else without fuss.
However, even in some of the more innocuous conversations where he felt he should have been able to contribute, Harry often put his foot in his mouth. He'd casually mentioned, in one of the discussions about magic they'd been able to practice before coming to Hogwarts, one of the many sacrificial rituals he'd performed. Everyone had stopped talking to stare at him, and Ron had turned him, exasperated, and said:
"He's talking about a goat, obviously. Like for a Beltane festival or something, right Harry?"
"Yeah, obviously. Um, murder is wrong and I have never committed it. So, Quidditch! Neville, you play any?"
He'd written to mama about the problem, but she'd been no help, simply advising him that he could avoid speaking to people or could come home, neither of which sounded like good options.
At the least, he was fairly certain people thought he was strange in the quirky, out-of-touch celebrity sort of way, and not in the secretly practicing illegal magic way. Mama had never made a big deal about him being famous. They would either glamor over his scar or he would wear a hat out in public, not to mention that they did most of their shopping in the muggle world - and so he had honestly forgotten how famous he really was. Harry learned quickly to lean into these assumptions. He couldn't talk too much about his private tutors growing up because they'd been sworn to secrecy for his protection. Death Eaters could always be listening, he told his yearmates in a calm voice, and so for everyone's safety, there were just some things he could not discuss with them.
Despite his inability to act normal, friendship came pretty easy to Harry. Ron, just like Luna had done years ago, had simply decided on his behalf that they were best friends. It was convenient to not have to try his hand at proper socialization, and Ron was genuinely pretty cool so Harry did not mind him. Mama had always insisted he kept busy, so it was nice to spend their first weekend at the castle camped out by the lake with a mountain of sandwiches and talking about nonsensical things. His twin older brothers let them borrow their brooms for the afternoon, and they dared each other to fly closer and closer to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. After a hearty dinner, they played chess by the fire.
No, Harry didn't think he would get bored here at Hogwarts, there was so much fun to be having!
.....
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