Chapter 1: A Slow Day in July
Chapter Text
Not much had changed in Little Whinging. It was still a quiet little town with its quiet little streets with small houses and small businesses and neighbors who never seemed to notice or care that the kid from the other house had been treated as a slave for a little over a decade.
Harry hadn't managed to stomach two days at Number Four, Privet Drive, before he'd brazenly started leaving the house so he could do… something, anything, really.
Dumbledore had specified he was not to leave the vicinity of the Dursleys' home, so he couldn't just take a cab to Diagon Alley and spend his time there, unfortunately.
Little Whinging was a rather large cage with no visible bars, but a prison was a prison, and Harry couldn't help but be bored out of his mind while waiting for his birthday to arrive, largely because that meant he could go back to Bones Manor (he'd been away long enough that no one would bring up last year's pretend quarrel with Amelia) and get to work on things he actually cared about.
He'd avoided visiting Carter's for the first three days of his walkabouts, both from expecting it would still be closed and a slight apprehension as to what would happen if it wasn't.
The being, @#$^&/<%, who'd visited him in his dreams had designated Carter as an agent of theirs, and while there wasn't any conclusive evidence that it had been anything more than a strange dream, Harry remained wary. Muggle Cosmic Horror stories were one thing, but Theo's confirmation that wizards actually knew of and actively avoided entities from beyond were another.
Naturally, he found himself at Carter's after only two more days of trying to avoid it.
Carter's book shop had vanished for good, replaced instead by some kind of hobby store. Gone were the dimly-lit interior and the shelves of old books and magazines. The store was brightly lit, and Harry could see even from outside that it stocked toys and games for varying ages.
If only this had been here when I was younger, Harry thought to himself.
Didn't you not have money when you were younger? Nyx asked.
Details.
It seemed Carter had truly gone, and Harry hadn't been able to say thanks for all the years he'd helped him. He even had money now. He could've bought Carter's whole stock if he wanted to, though that might've been difficult to explain.
Are we going in or not? Nyx asked. We've been standing here for five minutes.
Eh. Sure. Why not? Harry communicated before pulling the glass door open.
A chime on the door signaled his entrance. The sole staff of the store, a woman with brown eyes and curly black hair that reached her shoulders, beamed at him from behind a glass counter.
"Good day. Can I help you?" she asked.
"Good day. I wanted to take a look around first," Harry answered, putting on his Professor-charming smile.
"Right. Call me if you need help with anything."
"Much obliged."
He did as he said, and took a brief tour of the shop's offerings. The store had Lego sets, model cars, model tanks, model planes, model boats. Lots and lots of models, really. There were even model robots imported from Japan (he could tell by the text on the boxes) that had to be built by hand.
Next to those, he found box upon box of toy cars that looked strangely shaped compared to the others. Where the first ones looked like actual cars, these had a cartoonish look to them.
"These actually run?" Harry asked.
"Sure do," the shopkeep answered. "Battery operated. Mind yourself, though. They don't come assembled. You gotta put them together yourself."
"How do they steer? Remote control?" Harry asked.
"Oh, no, they're meant to be run on a track," she answered, pointing next to the toy car boxes and towards a much larger box that displayed a four-lane plastic track complete with slopes and loops.
Fascinating, though it seemed kind of sad without having anyone to race against, so Harry moved on.
The upper shelves had tabletop games ranging from Monopoly to Dungeons and Dragons to Warhammer Fantasy.
The shopkeep caught him staring and asked, "Aren't you a bit young to be playing Warhammer?"
"Too young to play with toys?" Harry questioned. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"You've never heard of Warhammer?" the shopkeep asked. She had a gleam in her eyes, Harry realized, but seemed to have some reservations.
"Never," Harry said. "But you've got my attention."
She seemed to silently debate with herself before eyeing his expensive muggle clothes (courtesy of Justin, of course, who'd surprised everyone with late Christmas presents on the train ride back) and deciding he could probably afford it. "Oh, what the hell, come here."
Harry reflexively stretched his wand arm to make sure his wand was in its holster before he decided to go with it. "Uh, sure."
He followed her through a side door he'd never seen Carter use and found himself in a smaller, well-lit room that held two meter-long tables painted to look like a miniature map, complete with foliage.
Pretty, Nyx commented.
Agreed, Harry answered. "Did you make this all yourself?"
"Just the paint job and the miniatures on top," the shopkeep answered. "I'm not a carpenter."
"Painted these, too." She took a box off a plain wooden shelf and placed it on one of the tables, revealing a collection of miniature figures shaped like various humanoid creatures. A majority of them were green, with long, knife-shaped ears and hooked noses. They reminded Harry of green House-Elves.
"Are those Elves?" Harry asked.
She looked at him questioningly. "Elves? These are Goblins! What kind of rock've you been living under?"
"Wait, is it alright for you to be in here? Don't you have a store to mind?" he asked as a way of dodging the question.
"I can see it fine from here, and it's not like business is booming. I tell ya, this lot is cursed. The last guy had to close shop, too. Now, you wanna learn about Warhammer or not?"
"I guess I've got time," Harry said. Several weeks of it, in fact. "Teach me."
And so, Harry received a crash course on Warhammer Fantasy, which was a turn-based wargame fought using self-painted miniatures, wits, and dice.
Kelly (the shopkeeper, who'd finally introduced herself during the tutorial), seemed to be a bit of a Warhammer nut and trounced him easily no matter how hard he tried. They played three games with Harry switching to a different faction each time while Kelly stayed with her Goblins and Orks. 'Greenskins,' she'd said was the collective term.
"You're brilliant at this," Harry said.
"Practice and knowledge of the game," she answered. "Care to go again?"
"No, I think I've had enough for now. But I will be making a purchase."
"Wait, really?" Kelly asked.
"I don't like losing," Harry answered simply.
He walked out of the hobby shop with an army of miniature Lizardmen (Harry thought it was fitting), a rulebook, and a few pots of paint. He made sure to place them all securely in his trunk before he returned to Number Four, Privet Drive.
It was a game, certainly, but he could see merits to it. For one, he was bored out of his mind at the Dursleys', but more importantly, it might help hone his knowledge of battlefield tactics.
Sure, wizards fought differently from the game pieces. Very differently, in fact. The magic in Warhammer was rather limited (and yet somehow, more powerful) compared to what actual Magicals could do, but there were lessons to be learned in proper positioning, consideration of the value of certain pieces (one of Kelly's wins had been when she baited him into overextending to attack an expendable unit), and bringing a balanced composition into battle.
Perhaps the summer wouldn't be so dull after all.
Harry spent rather a lot of his time at the hobby shop, dropping a surprising amount of money into his newfound hobby. It was a blessing Kelly never asked him where he got it from.
By the end of the week, he'd finally managed to get a game up on her, but he'd also somehow accumulated several armies of miniatures and the combined cost would've sent most people's heads spinning.
Still, the games sometimes dragged, especially once he'd stopped throwing his troops to the lions after learning what moves actually meant something and what didn't. It didn't help that every move required a tape measure to check for range, a roll of dice to see if an attack hit, and so on. He couldn't help but think of how Magicals had wasted their animated toys on something like chess when this needed it so much more.
He made a mental note to talk to Fred and George about a possible business opportunity. Perhaps it was time to start contributing to the Potter Vaults instead of draining them.
His daily games with Kelly paused one day when she told him the game room was being used.
"What's going on?" Harry asked. Soft chatter from the room told him she spoke the truth.
"Local bot combat team is borrowing the space," she answered.
"Bot combat?" Harry asked. "As in robots?"
She nodded. "Go see for yourself if you want."
Harry considered it. What was the harm? Well, for starters, he didn't like feeling stupid, and while he'd read lots of science fiction, he had zero clue about real robots. In the end, he excused himself and told Kelly he'd check out some of the displays while sending Nyx in to investigate.
Inside, he borrowed her sight and vision, and was a bit perplexed by what he saw: The tables had been moved aside to create a space in the middle with what looked like a thick, transparent dome surrounding it.
Rather than kids a bit older than him, the three occupants of the room were middle-aged men wearing casual clothing. Two of them stood across each other holding what looked like remote controls for toy cars, and between them, inside the dome, were two wheeled objects that faced each other. One looked like a simple upward slope with wheels while the other just looked like a pair of treads attached to a box. A rolling-pin-like object spun rapidly in front of the latter, like a road roller operating at high speed.
Harry frowned. He thought he was watching robots. These looked more like weird, oversized toy cars. Still, he kept watching as the men finished their safety checks and finally let loose. The carnage unleashed by the rolling pin bot, which Harry later realized was probably their actual robot (the other one was probably for testing), surprised him. Despite its size, the weapon rotated so rapidly it sent the other bot flying.
He couldn't help but wonder what kind of damage that would do to - say, an unsuspecting Death Eater. Especially if he stuck something sharp on it.
Harry found another thing to keep his evenings occupied: Drafting plans for a new trunk that may-or-may-not have been inspired by his brief exposure to Bot Fighting.
Tracey
She was being dumb, she knew. Her chances at a favorable response were slim, given everything that made their situation difficult.
It was Tracey couldn't stop pacing in her room, waiting for the owl to come back.
They'd been writing all summer, and she seemed into it, but Tracey's nerves were rattled all the same.
There was a knock on her window as a snowy, white owl waited for her to take the letter it clutched in its talons. She let out a breath, and opened the window, petting the snowy owl as she opened the envelope.
The half-vampire grinned, and set about writing a response.
Harry
He bade Kelly farewell on the last week of July, expecting that he'd be back to Magical Britain in a week. He told her he'd be away at boarding school for a year (not technically a lie), and thanked her for teaching him the game. She'd just shrugged, said she's sad to see her best customer go, and told him to come back for a rematch when he could.
What he hadn't expected that day was the evening news.
"This is a public service warning," the muggle prime minister spoke on the television. "A serial killer named Sirius Black has escaped confinement. He is armed, and very dangerous. If you see him, do not approach."
They flashed a picture of him on the screen. He had a shaggy look to him, Harry decided, and a haunted, manic look in his eyes.
"And now, an announcement from the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries-"
"What the devil?" Vernon asked aloud. "They didn't mention where he escaped from!"
Harry's eyes narrowed at that. The walrus was right, for once. The muggle prime minister seemed to have omitted that information for whatever reason.
You don't suppose he's from Azkaban? Harry asked.
You really think I'd know the answer to that? Nyx said, shooting him a questioning look.
Just talking to myself.
He was about to head upstairs when he found his attention being caught by his least favorite uncle.
"Boy," Vernon said. "A word."
"What is it?" Harry asked. They'd largely left him alone after he made only mild threats, but he didn't like the sound of this.
"Marge is coming to visit for a week," Vernon told him. "I want you on your best behavior."
"Aunt Marge?" Harry asked. He remembered her and her dog well. Unlike Vernon and Petunia, who at least knew about the existence of magic, Marge was an unexposed muggle, not that he'd been practicing with magic at all during his time with the Dursleys. "I've got a proposition to make."
"What?" Vernon asked.
"I've got a better idea," Harry said. "I need a form signed to go on a school trip. All expenses paid, don't worry, but I do need permission."
"Fine. No funny business during the week Marge is here and you can go."
"Wouldn't you prefer if I just left now?" Harry offered. "That way you're sure I'm out of your hair. Just sign and you won't have to see me for another year."
Vernon looked at him with an inscrutable expression before finally nodding. "Alright, give it to me."
"I'll be right back," Harry said, trying not to look triumphant as he climbed the stairs, made sure no one was watching, and retrieved the permission slip from his trunk. In truth, he'd had it on him the whole time, but he couldn't just unshrink the trunk in front of the Dursleys, could he?
He returned a moment later with the slip. Vernon touched a pen to it, and then stopped. "Wait a minute. You're really saying you won't leave if I don't sign this?"
Shit. He'd been hoping Vernon was a bit more slow-witted than that. "Is there something wrong?"
A smug look appeared on Vernon's face. "I'm not signing it."
"Why not? I get to go on a trip, you get rid of me, everybody wins."
"Because you can't do magic around Marge," Vernon said. "It's why you're trying to weasel out of here, isn't it? What's wrong, boy? Afraid of little Ripper?"
Shit. Vernon was right, and he knew it. As Marge was an unexposed muggle, Harry couldn't even threaten her with magic because of the stupid Statute of Secrecy.
"No," Vernon said triumphantly. "You're staying right here for some quality time with your Aunt Marge."
"Technically, I've stayed about as long as I have to," Harry answered coolly. "So, if you're not going to sign, I'll just leave."
"No, you won't, I'll-"
The Key buzzed out of Harry's shirt, poised to strike. "You know, I had a wizard check this thing before I left school. He said he didn't how it worked. I imagine that means the Ministry doesn't, either. I can just say it tried to kill me, and you valiantly offered your life for mine."
Even as he said it, Harry felt sick. As if Vernon would ever.
Vernon squinted at him. "Fine. Go. Get out of here!"
Harry snorted. Watch my back, he told Nyx as he slowly made for the front door. "See ya, Duddy-kins," he said to Dudley as he passed him by.
He made it out without further incident. Times like these were why he kept all of his things inside an expanding trunk.
He knew he was just slightly short of the actual date he was supposed to leave, but he didn't think he could take a week with Aunt Marge in the house. But what to do now? He supposed he could Floo over to Bones Manor. His friends would've sent their birthday presents there, like he'd told them to.
He'd been walking while thinking, and made it to Magnolia Crescent when he spotted a large, black dog staring at him from across the street. Harry wasn't overly-fond of dogs, thanks to his sour experiences being attacked by Marge's pet, but this one seemed… nice.
That, and the Key was available if he needed it, so Harry made no move as the hound sauntered across the street and towards him. There was something about its eyes - like it was happy to see him after so long - that made Harry bend down and give it a good scratch.
"Gimme a sec, boy, maybe I have something for you," Harry said, unshrinking his trunk when he was sure no one was looking and pulling a few strips of bacon he'd stolen when Petunia's attention was elsewhere.
The dog eagerly took the bacon and barked happily before running off.
How come you never feed me like that? Nyx asked.
Harry smirked. You don't have to eat and you take whatever you want off my plate anyway.
There was something odd about that dog, she told him. He smelled of sadness.
What the heck does sadness smell like? Harry asked. But yeah, he looked rough.
It smells like you, you loser.
Harry snorted. Right, let's see if this works.
He raised his wand aloft and not three seconds later, a blue triple-decker bus arrived seemingly out of nowhere.
A lanky man in a conductor's outfit waited at the door, reading from a small piece of parchment. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."
"Grand," Harry said.
"No luggage?" Stan asked, eyeing Harry.
"Got everything I need on my person," he answered.
"Right. Up you go."
And so, Harry took his first few steps back into civilization.
Chapter 2: Back in Civilization
Notes:
I'm sorry Harry didn't blow up Aunt Marge, but that felt like it would be out of character for mine.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The descriptions he'd heard of the Knight Bus had been accurate: a bus that was bigger on the inside that changed its layout based on the time of day. It was evening, so the bus' normal furnishing of chairs changed into beds, complete with little candles. An elderly witch lay sleeping on one, which seemed mad, considering how quickly the bus moved.
Harry braced himself against a bed near the front, knowing the trip to the Leaky Cauldron wouldn't take long. He'd been planning on staying as far away from Stan (he had about Ronald's level of intelligence) when he'd noticed Stan reading the latest copy of the Daily Prophet.
It had the face (animated, of course) of the man Harry had seen on television - the serial killer who'd supposedly escaped prison. The headline confirmed his hunch that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, though Harry felt curious of the details.
"Do you mind if I borrow that?" Harry asked.
"Sure," Stan answered, handing him the paper.
Harry scanned through the article, and with each tidbit he felt his blood growing colder and colder. Sirius Black had worked for Voldemort, and more importantly, he'd been the one to betray the Potters to the Dark Lord. He'd made his last stand killing over a dozen muggles and the Potters' other friend, Peter Pettigrew.
"What did you say your name was again?" Stan asked.
"I didn't," Harry answered, not wanting to spare time for simpletons when he was reading about yet another man responsible for sending him to the Dursleys.
The bus came to an abrupt stop and Harry returned the Prophet to Stan as he got off. So, Black was out of prison, eh? If Harry ever found him, he'd wish he'd stayed inside.
He poofed out of the Bones' fireplace in a flash of green flame. The drawing room was surprisingly empty. Then again, there were only three people living in a giant manor, and it was late. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised.
"Gretchin?" Harry asked aloud.
"Boss Harry," the House Elf said after appearing with a pop. "You's is back. Wot can I do for you's?"
"Are my sister and Amelia here?" Harry asked.
"We are," Amelia's voice answered from where the drawing room connected to the kitchen. She smiled at him thinly. "I thought I felt the Manor admitting someone through the Floo. You're early."
"Sorry," Harry said. "Had to leave in a hurry."
"Don't be, they sound like awful people," Amelia told him. "Unless you're apologizing for something illegal?"
"No, I got out before the situation escalated," Harry answered.
"Why doesn't your sister have your sense?" Amelia drawled. "Come along. We're in the middle of dinner."
"Best thing I've heard today," Harry said as he followed Amelia into the familiar dining room of Bones Manor. He found Willow and Susan on one end of the table, next to where Amelia sat at the head.
"Harry?" Willow asked as she saw him. "You're here early."
"So I've been told," he said, smiling back. "Mind if I join you? And hello, Sue."
"Hey, Harry," Susan said, warmly and yet distantly. The two of them rarely spoke.
"Do you even need to ask?" Willow said. "Gretchin, could you-"
"I's is already on it, boss," Gretchin answered, floating an extra plate and set of utensils next to Willow's seat.
"Excellent, I'm starving," Harry told them as he sat down and got a better look at what dinner was: Italian carbonara, still hot enough to emit smoke.
He took one whiff of it, savoring the rich buttery garlic smell before helping himself to a plate. A wine glass appeared next to him shortly after, which earned Gretchin a muffled "thanks." Harry was glad to see it was just juice blended from seasonal fruits rather than actual alcohol, not that Amelia would be serving that to minors in her own home. It wasn't illegal, exactly, but drunk minors meant a chance for underage magic, which was. She sat back down at the head of the table.
"Did something happen?" Willow asked in between mouthfuls of her pasta.
"Willow, manners," Amelia said sternly.
"Sorry!" she said, swallowing a spoonful before speaking again. "I just mean, you usually do things for a reason instead of on a whim."
Harry smirked at his sister, taking a sip of the juice before answering. It was sweet, but just sweet enough not to be bad. "Our unexposed muggle aunt was coming over for a week," he said simply. "I thought it best I made myself scarce before she showed up."
"Oh. Did she-" Willow began, but saw the look on his face that said 'I don't want to talk about her' and decided not to press. He appreciated her starting to pick up on his nonverbal cues.
"Your unexposed muggle aunt?" Amelia echoed. "Would it have made that big of a difference that she was unexposed?"
The implied question of course was: 'Were you intimidating your relatives with magic?'
There'd been a slight shift in Amelia's bearing, he realized, kind of like when Willow slipped into Hero Time. Except Amelia's was that of a member of the Wizengamot, and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd always wondered where his sister got it from.
"Of course not," Harry answered smoothly. He didn't want to get in trouble for threatening the Dursleys, after all. Merlin, the Statute of Secrecy was stupid sometimes. "It's just that I have very unfond memories of Aunt Marge and her dog."
Amelia nodded and dropped the topic. "So, Willow tells me you took down Voldemort's younger self."
Harry blinked. "It's rare to hear someone mention his name."
"Fear of the name increases fear of the monster it belonged to," Amelia explained.
"He did, Amelia," Willow supplied. "He stabbed the Basilisk Fang into the diary and it killed him."
Huh. She'd been unconscious for that, but he supposed her familiar had been present.
"Technically, Theo Nott defeated Riddle when he disarmed him," Harry said. "But please don't let anyone know. His father might not be so understanding."
Amelia looked at him with narrow, calculating eyes. "I suppose the apple fell pretty far from the tree."
Harry wasn't so sure about that. For all he knew, Theo was the spitting image of his father. "Afraid I can't say. I've never met his parents."
"Regardless, thank you for bringing that bastard to justice, even if it was just an echo of himself," Amelia spoke, now smiling. "As thanks, I got both of you something good for your birthday."
"I already opened mine," Willow said, a pleased look on her face. Harry guessed it was a new broom or something.
"You didn't have to," Harry said. "But thank you."
"It's a small thing compared to the risk you two took," Amelia said. "It's in your room along with the presents from your friends."
There was a silent stare after that which implied she knew some of those presents were in a gray area when it came to the law, but she didn't press.
"I'll be sure to get a look before the night's over," Harry said.
"But, speaking of the events of your second year," Amelia spoke, tone hardening. "I'd appreciate if the two of you didn't engage in any more heroics for the rest of your stay in Hogwarts. As I keep telling Willow, you two have already done more than enough for Magical Britain. Leave the dark wizards to me. It's my job."
"Amelia, rest assured, I don't look for trouble," Harry said. "But my sister is the Girl Who Lived. There's no telling when trouble will come looking for her."
"Why do you make it sound like it's my fault?" Willow protested.
"He's not wrong," Susan said, laughing.
Harry grinned. "Because, dear sister, I've only been dragged into trouble once. Your record is two for two."
"Right. Willow, I want you to promise me: No matter what you hear, do not go after Sirius Black," Amelia said. "We'll find him and have him back in Azkaban before he gets near either of you."
"I know," Willow answered. She sounded like she meant it, too.
"You really think he'll come after us?" Harry asked, pretending his glass of juice was more interesting than the conversation.
"You know your history?" Amelia asked.
"Just what's in the paper," Harry answered.
Amelia nodded.
"But I can still go to Hogsmeade, right?" Willow asked.
Harry shot her a glance. Right. Amelia was her legal guardian. Maybe he could-
"If we catch Black before the first Hogsmeade trip, I'll owl you the signed form," Amelia said in a manner that brooked no argument. "If not, then I'm sorry, but the risk is too great. You too, Sue. I don't want Black using you as a hostage."
"I understand," Willow said.
"Of course, Aunt Amelia," Susan supplied.
"Actually, Amelia," Harry began. "Assuming you do catch Black before Hogsmeade, what're the odds you could sign my form, too?"
Her face fell as she looked at him. "Sorry, Harry. I'm not your legal guardian. I understand circumstances are difficult, but it wouldn't be appropriate. Besides, with Black on the loose, you're better off staying in the castle."
"Is there a way you could be my legal guardian?" Harry asked. He was spitballing, but having a guardian who wasn't the Dursleys seemed like a good idea.
"You can have both a Muggle legal guardian and a Magical legal guardian," Amelia explained. "I could take the latter position, yes, but it would be difficult, given the state of your… current one."
Harry blinked. "Wait. I have a Magical legal guardian?"
Amelia nodded. She seemed to be looking for a good way to say it.
"It's him, Harry," Willow said. "Sirius Black. He was our Godfather."
"Excuse me?" Harry asked. "The serial killer who betrayed our mum and dad, escaped Azkaban, and is probably now looking for us, is our Godfather? They sure left that bombshell out of the paper."
"It's not exactly a savoury connection to have," Amelia admitted. "I expect Fudge advised against mentioning it. But now you see why he's probably after you. In his mind, you two are the last obstacles to Voldemort's return."
"Is the DMLE going to be stationing Aurors at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
"Probably," Amelia said. "Black just got out, as you know, so plans are still all over the place, but we'll definitely be doing something about Hogwarts' security."
"Actually, I'm surprised you're home," Harry commented. "Not that I didn't want you here, of course, but with the breakout-"
Amelia sighed. "It's the calm before the storm. I expect once it's sunk in, I'll be in meeting after meeting while we try to pin him down."
"Not to worry, Amelia," Harry said, smirking. "I'll keep an eye on my headstrong sister."
"Hey!" Willow protested.
"Now, now, little sister," Harry said. "Don't talk with your mouth full."
Willow muttered something under her breath and the news of Sirius Black's escape faded, giving way to pleasant conversation about how Harry and Willow were both doing well in school (though Harry was far better), how both Potters were great at Quidditch, and finally, Amelia telling Harry embarrassing snippets from Willow's childhood, much to the Girl Who Lived's chagrin.
Despite her embarrassment, Harry couldn't help but feel a little envious that she'd grown up in a home that, while not perfect, had loved her. He'd laughed when Amelia told him about Willow accidentally knocking over a family heirloom while playing hero, but he couldn't help but compare. He'd once accidentally broken a cheap vase of Petunia's, and he'd spent a week without food for it.
All in the past now, Nyx assured him.
You're right, Harry said. Besides, I can always get even once Voldemort is no longer a problem.
Maybe even before that, so he could pin the blame on the Dark Lord.
Harry knocked on the door of Amelia's study. The door swung open to admit him. Amelia watched him enter from behind a sturdy desk.
He'd almost never been in here. Amelia was away from home about half the time, and he hadn't stayed the previous summer.
Portraits populated almost every blank space on the walls. The Bones, he thought. The ones who'd been murdered by Voldemort. Harry couldn't understand that. If he'd lost dear ones to the Dark Lord, the last thing he would've done was hang constant reminders of them where he worked.
"Yes, Harry?" Amelia asked, putting down a document she'd been studying.
"Sightings of Black?" Harry asked.
She nodded. "A lot of spooked witnesses is what it is. We've got reports of him from Queensway to Magnolia Crescent."
"Well, I was in Magnolia Crescent. Didn't see him there, unless Sirius is polyjuiced as Stan Shunpike," Harry said. "Also, it's not my place to say, but why doesn't Magical Britain have a more efficient way to track escaped criminals? Surely, someone's invented a tracking spell or something by now?"
Amelia sighed. "Because the only reliable tracking spell falls under Blood Magic, which in turn, falls under Dark Magic forbidden by Ministry Law."
"You couldn't make an exception for a case like this?" Harry asked. "I heard Aurors were authorized to use Unforgivables during the war."
She eyed him with a calculating gaze. "Willow mentioned you read ahead, but I didn't think you were that far ahead. I didn't encounter Unforgivables until I was doing my N.E.W.T.s."
"Oh, this wasn't an academic interest," Harry said, waiting for the expected surprise on Amelia's face. "Tom Riddle used quite a few Dark Curses against us, and I had to do some reading on the Imperius to make sure my friends weren't under its effects."
"Of course. Forgive me," Amelia said. "Foolish of me to think a Potter would be digging up such Dark lore. But no, I'm afraid an exception can't be made in this case. You see, the tracking spell requires a Phylactery: sample of the subject's blood previously extracted in a ritual and held in a special container. Obviously, with Blood Magic being illegal, we didn't take a sample. Without that component, Fudge could legalize Phylacteries right now and it still wouldn't help us."
"That's unfortunate," Harry said, only half-meaning it. That meant they would have a hard time tracking him down, if things ever went in that direction someday.
"But you didn't come in here to ask about Black," Amelia said flatly. "What can I help you with, Harry? And no, I will not be signing your Hogsmeade permission slip. I've already said why."
"Well, it's related," Harry said. "About my legal guardian on this side of things."
"Even if I won't sign your permission slip?" Amelia asked.
"Having a contact person if anything happens to me is pretty important," Harry reasoned. "And I'm already spending my summers here. Unless of course, you'd rather not have me, in which case, I apologize for being so forward."
A practiced look of uncertainty on his face, and he had Amelia shaking her head.
"No," she said. "Of course that's not it. I'd be glad to have you, and you are Willow's brother. It's just there's a lot of red tape to get through. It took almost two years for me to get legal custody of Willow, and with Black's escape from Azkaban, I can't really devote much time to it."
"Of course. Take as long as you need," Harry said. "You're sure it's alright?"
To his surprise, Amelia snorted. "In case you haven't noticed, both our families lost a lot in the last war. Probably best we stick together."
"Thank you, Aunt Amelia," Harry said.
Amelia choked back a protest. "Maybe we take baby steps, Harry. I raised your sister and Susan from babies. This, well, this will take time, too."
"No, you're right, but all the same, thank you," Harry answered with as much emotion as he could muster before leaving Amelia to her paperwork.
It wasn't that he didn't feel grateful. He did. He honestly did. Amelia let him stay in her home free of charge and had taken care of his sister for over a decade. She'd even pulled some strings so he could get away with immobilizing the Dursleys last year.
But he didn't think of her as family, not really. She was just the woman who'd taken care of his - Actually, did he even really think of Willow as family? He remembered his fury when Riddle had almost killed her, whenever Draco made some half-arsed attempt at getting her in trouble. That was familial love, right?
Except he would've done the same if Theo or Daphne or Blaise or Tracey had been killed or targeted. He'd gone and abducted Draco within Hogwarts when Justin had been Petrified and he'd thought Draco knew something.
He and Willow might've looked similar, and shared the surname, but in the end, Willow was just another kid he'd met in 1991, albeit a bit earlier than the rest. Not that they'd talked much during that brief time.
'Was it normal for someone to feel this way?' He asked himself as he slowly paced back to his room. It couldn't have been, right? Then again, he reminded himself, normal people don't have sisters who defeat the person who made them orphans as an infant.
You're thinking too much, Nyx told him. You humans are so dramatic. We Fairies don't have problems like this.
Maybe you're right, he conceded.
Harry eventually found his room, heaved a sigh, and resigned himself to the far less depressing thought of finally opening his presents.
They were all arranged neatly on his desk, with accompanying letters. He threw a quick Colloportus on his door and waited to hear it lock before turning to the first one from Justin.
Harry,
Happy Birthday! I'm just here reminding you that my getting Petrified was no one's fault but the person who set the Monster on me. Theo hinted I should owl you about it because apparently you think you messed up somehow.
Please. You're not that clever.
Also, afraid I'll be taking a rain check if you lot are going to hang out this summer. I'm currently in the middle of catching up on school because, you know, missed about half a year and now I have to cram it into summer along with my other personal projects.
The book you gave me is fascinating. Found a copy of the sequel which had rather interesting tidbits in it. I'd be happy to lend it to you afterwards if you don't have your own copy yet, but knowing you, that's unlikely.
Enjoy your present. I'm sure you'll find a use for them.
Yours Truly, Justin Finch-Fetchley
Harry couldn't help but grin as he read through it. Good old Justin taking being in a coma in stride. Harry opened the attached box and found something he didn't think a Hufflepuff should have, let alone be giving away casually: A box filled with small metal balls that had spikes sharp enough to penetrate skin. Each was smaller than a snitch, but Harry counted a dozen in total. He could use the Prydwen to shoot those out pretty quickly.
Unlike Tracey, Harry hadn't openly asked Justin what on earth his family did, since he knew he'd never get a straight answer, but now he really did want to know.
Harry replied with a letter of thanks asking Justin if he could drop hints about what Familiar he'd taken.
The next gift was Daphne's.
Harry,
Happy Birthday.
Remember our conversation at the end of the year about whether the Hospital Wing had enough Boil-cure Potions? Mother and Father would like a word with you about it. Would have to be a day when they're both free, and I can introduce you to that dueling teacher I mentioned so I don't beat you too badly next time. This weekend, perhaps?
The box is just what I think you should wear when you come. Your actual gift will be here when you see me.
Daphne Heir of House Greengrass
Good old Daphne, Harry thought as he inspected the wrapped parcel.
Will she teach you how to fight? Nyx asked.
No, but her dueling instructor will, maybe, Harry answered. That reminded him that he needed to get Willow some dueling lessons, too. He'd forgotten to bring it up with Amelia. Maybe he'd better see what Daphne's instructor was like first.
Inside the box was a set of fine black robes which, to Harry's surprise, seemed a size too large for him. Knowing Daphne rarely made mistakes, he tried them on, and felt vindicated when the fabric began to mold itself to his body shape.
"Oh, that's right," Harry thought out loud. "I need to get new robes this year."
He wrote Daphne back, thanking her for the outfit and saying he could work with her parents' schedule, so whichever suited them best would be fine by him.
Shit, he thought.
What is it, Harry? Nyx asked.
My copy of that book about etiquette is still with Ginny. I might need a refresher, Harry said.
Aren't you dropping by the place with the shops tomorrow, anyway?
Diagon Alley, yeah, he answered. Might as well get a new copy, I suppose.
Next was Hermione's.
Harry,
Happy Birthday!
I wanted to apologize again for how things turned out last year. I should've trusted you. Although, now that I'm writing this down, I feel extra bad about what I'm giving you as a present.
I'm really sorry. This is why the Hat never offered me Hufflepuff.
Hermione
Hermione had gotten him a year's worth of dental supplies, which was fair, given her parents' background. It was useful, though, so he thanked her and told her not to worry about it and that he'd made mistakes, too.
Neville's letter read:
Hi Harry!
Happy Birthday! Hope your time with the walruses wasn't as bad this year. I finally gave in and told my Gran my dad's wand didn't attune to me, so she took me to get a new one. You guys were right. She talked my ear off about how I should've told her from the start the wand hadn't picked me. My spellwork is probably better now. Not that I've tried, of course. That would be illegal.
(Harry had to roll his eyes there, since it was a bit on the nose.)
Remember you can come over any time if you wanna hang out. Theo and the others, too.
Neville Heir of House Longbottom
Neville had gotten him a wand care kit, probably from his trip to Ollivander's, assuming he hadn't gone to a different wandmaker.
Harry wrote back saying he was glad Neville finally changed his mind about the wand and that he was doing well. He didn't reply about the Dursleys bit, but mentioned he'd gotten out early. Unfortunately, he had a lot going on this summer, but if he caught a moment, he'd love to come over for tea and meet Madam Longbottom.
Theo's letter was brief.
Harry,
Happy birthday, mate. Glad to see you're out of your relatives' house.
Not too much I want to write you, but maybe we can meet one of these days? Write back and tell me when's good for you.
Theo Heir of House Nott
Translation: Theo did have something to say, but nothing he wanted in writing, and Harry should meet up with him ASAP.
His present, which Theo hadn't brought up at all in the letter for good reason, was a rather interesting tome with no visible title that couldn't have been bought from Flourish and Blott's. He'd taken one quick skim of the pages to determine it held spells far too spicy for the Ministry's bland palate before quickly stowing it into his trunk's secret compartment.
Harry wrote back that he'd be in Diagon for a few things the next day if Theo was up for it, and thanked Theo for wishing him a happy birthday.
Tracey's was next.
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday!
About that academic question on the train. My mum says it's very possible, though she's hardly an expert. Also my dad was asking if you'd be up for an interview, seeing as how people thought you were dead for a decade.
I politely told him you'd said 'no' in advance, so let's keep our stories straight, okay?
Her present, surprisingly, had been a record of Pure Blood family trees from the late 1800s. Bless her soul. She'd gone ahead and investigated both sides of the Riddle Mystery.
He thanked her for staving off an interview, the present, and for asking her mother if Blood Magic could be used to fake blood purity, though obviously not in those exact words.
"And next is-"
Blaise. Even shorter than Theo's.
Harry,
Happy Birthday!
I'll cut right to the chase. Daphne or Tracey?
Blaise Heir of House Zabini
Harry's mouth actually fell open when he understood what Blaise was asking. Tracey had been right. Puberty had hit their friend hard, though it was hardly surprising. Since Harry's birthday was so close to the start of the school year, he was actually younger than most of his year mates, who'd mostly turned eleven either in 1990 or the early half of 1991.
What surprised him was that Blaise hadn't given him the usual hair product for a present this time. Instead, Blaise had gotten him a bottle of perfume that looked (and probably was) rather expensive. The bottle read 'sandalwood' though Harry had no idea if that was a scent or the name of the perfume.
He thanked Blaise for the birthday greeting, the present, and made no comment about his question.
You're not going to answer? Nyx asked.
No.
What if I ask? Would you tell me?
No, because I don't know, Harry answered. I've barely hit puberty.
Willow had just left a note that said 'Happy Birthday from me and Sue!' and a box containing a basic broom cleaning kit, which would be handy for his Nimbus 2001.
Except the Slytherin Quidditch Team provided a professional-grade broom care kit for all its players as part of their less-advertised perks. Naturally, since he couldn't tell her about that and didn't want her to feel bad, he resolved to thank the both of them the next day during breakfast.
Next was a combined present from Ginny, Fred, and George. The letter was Ginny's.
Hey Harry,
Happy Birthday! I appreciate you and Willow saving me last year, and I was wondering if you'd be free to talk one of these days? Fred and George told me to tell you that your investment's still returning good stuff and that they've included it in the box.
Ginny
Her gift was just sweets, but he hadn't expected anything else. In fact, he would've sent her a chastising reminder if she spent money on him instead of her year mates who were her actual social circle.
Fred and George's latest concoction, according to the attached note, was a Potion that, when used to coat a small object, would cause the object to become nearly imperceptible unless you knew it was there. Currently, it could only work on things less than an inch in size, but it might still be useful for making someone lose their marbles, literally.
Harry wrote Ginny back saying he was a bit busy but also not to worry about it. He'd try to squeeze a meeting in at some point in the summer and write her in advance when he found a good spot. Fred and George he'd sent a separate letter saying they were brilliant and he already had ideas for this newest concoction without saying what those ideas were. None of them involved hiding someone else's things, but invisible caltrops sounded useful.
The most surprising package came from someone Harry had never gotten a gift from before: Draco Malfoy. Harry made sure to probe it for traps before opening. He didn't survive the Ark of Slytherin just to be destroyed by something of Draco's.
Harry,
Happy Birthday. If you're wondering how I know, (Harry wasn't) Pansy let it slip when your birthday was. I wanted to thank you for getting the blighter that attacked me. Father is grateful as well, even considering that business between your sister and our former House-elf.
Thanks again for your advice with the Quidditch Team. I hope we can continue to build bridges between our houses in the future.
Draco Heir of House Malfoy
Harry was squinting by the time he finished reading, still doubting if he'd read all of that correctly. Right. Pansy hadn't gotten him a gift. Interesting. She usually gave him sweets, at least. Perhaps she'd been more shaken up than he'd thought.
Harry cast detection charms again before opening the package.
Inside was a chess set. Not just any chess set, though. It was a wizard's chess set, only rather than black and white, the pieces were green and silver. As in actual silver and some green gemstone Harry couldn't have been sure about. Emerald? Jade? Hell if he knew.
It's aesthetically pleasing, Nyx offered.
Tacky is what it is, Harry told her. I don't even play Chess, and after all those gaming sessions with Kelly, I doubt I ever will.
He wrote Malfoy back, thanking him for the gift, but subtly hinting that it wouldn't see any use since he didn't play. He also made a point to ask how Draco was feeling after the incident as well as a non-committal but positive-sounding response to his attempt at building bridges.
The final box in the pile, which Harry was almost sure had been placed last on purpose, was from Amelia.
Harry,
Happy Birthday.
I'd like to stress that I am by no means voicing approval for the 'services' you and Willow rendered for Hogwarts. That was dangerous and you could've gotten hurt or worse.
However, given that this is Willow's second year out of two where she lands in some sort of danger involving Voldemort and that Sirius Black has escaped, I think it prudent to provide you with protection that will hopefully help should such situations continue to arise. Inside the box, you'll find protective gear used by my own aurors. They're not exactly current, but it wasn't difficult getting a few spares of the old issue. They go under your robes and they'll protect you from physical trauma and weaker spells.
Again, these are for your protection, not so you two can go hunting Sirius Black.
Amelia Head of House Bones
Harry had to reread the letter to make sure he'd understood correctly. Had Amelia just given him a suit of body armor?
He opened the box with unusual eagerness, finding a one-piece article of clothing made of sleek, black material. He cast detection charms on it and found Amelia's letter truthful.
The outfit was indeed thin enough to go under his robes, and when he tried it on, it changed size to mold itself into his lean frame. He cautiously punched himself in the arm and found himself grinning at feeling almost nothing. It wrapped entirely around his torso and arms, leaving only legs, head, neck, and hands exposed. Not optimal, of course, but aiming for the torso was easiest, so it made sense to focus protection there.
He wondered what qualified as 'weaker spells' and resolved to ask Amelia rather than spend his time running tests.
Harry could always do that after she'd given him an idea if she was talking 'Flipendo' or 'Stupefy.'
Notes:
Fair warning: Kind of like the start of Heir Regent, we are a long way from Hogwarts.
Also after reading the 2 chapters again on AO3 I feel like I could've trimmed words/used active voice a bit more. I'll probably give them another look before I upload tomorrow's chapters. Won't change any of the content. I just feel like someone who's trying to write a book should be writing better at this point in time.
Chapter 3: An Absolutely Ordinary Day
Notes:
Sorry for lack of update yesterday. My internet was being bad. Still is, actually, but at least it's not *dead* today. Two chapters coming up today, as promised.
Chapter Text
Justin
"Are you alright, Mister Finch-Fletchley?" Professor Sprout asked as he'd been about to leave her office. It was a cozy little room, filled with plenty of plants and not so different from the Hufflepuff Common Room, really.
"Apologies, Professor," he answered, smiling with practiced ease. "I'm just a bit tired. Thank you once again for helping me catch back up."
"It's no trouble at all, Mister Finch-Fletchley," she said, a warm smile gracing her round cheeks. "I admire your tenacity. The Headmaster said you could simply proceed to Third Year since your circumstances weren't your fault, and yet here you are, doing more than you need to. It's like I always say: Hufflepuffs are the ones who actually do all the work."
Of course he was here. Was Professor Sprout really oblivious as to how hypercompetent his social circle was? He'd been in a coma for months. During that time, Harry and the others had learned how to duel, and Harry himself had learned how to conjure winged snakes out of thin air. He could've spent the entire summer taking remedial lessons and not have gotten near their achievements, and if he knew Harry, Daphne, and Theo, they'd be hard at work all summer themselves.
But Justin never voiced any of that, nor even let any of it show on his face. Instead, he said, "Please, Professor, call me Justin. I know my surname is a mouthful."
"Oh, very well, Justin," Professor Sprout said. "Do get some rest. Your magic seems taxed for some reason. You must not be sleeping enough."
"No promises, Professor," he said amicably before leaving the room.
He slowly made his way back out of the Castle. He'd walked the empty halls many times over the summer - nearly every day, in fact - but Justin couldn't help but feel odd seeing Hogwarts so devoid of student life.
He'd sometimes spot a Professor or two, but less than half of the faculty actually stayed in the Castle that summer.
Master, are you done with your lesson? two united voices rang in his head. They were both male and female, though Justin was pretty sure they'd been male before the Binding Ritual.
I am, Dios, Justin answered. Where are you?
Hunting.
Did you have a good morning?
I did.
Meet me by the front of the Castle, Justin commanded. In truth, he could've just met his familiar at Hogsmeade Station where he'd Floo home, but he'd taken Harry's advice to heart: Slytherin's Monster had caught him unawares, and a good familiar might've at least let him escape without getting put in a coma.
He'd paid his father's associate, Mundungus Fletcher, to acquire copies of the more advanced Familiar-Binding books for him. Magical goods were almost laughably cheap when your family was rich in the Muggle World.
As you wish, Master, his Familiar answered.
He walked down the front steps, to where the single Thestral-pulled carriage waited to transport him to Hogsmeade Station. It was a courtesy from Dumbledore, not only as apology for the attack, but also as a 'thank you' for not pressing charges. Unlike most muggle families, the Finch-Fletchleys knew lawyers on both sides, though few people outside their family and close associates would ever know why.
The winged horse, Dios communicated. I know its smell.
I would think so. Part of the mixture we used on you was a Thestral Hair. Trail the carriage. No one needs to know about you just yet.
Yes, Master.
Once at Hogsmeade station, Justin made a show of unshrinking and opening his trunk as if he'd forgotten something, actually opening its secret compartment. A shadow darted by and disappeared inside, barely noticeable unless you knew to watch for it.
You're inside? he asked to be sure.
Yes, Master, the voices answered.
Justin nodded, mostly to himself, before reshrinking the trunk and whispering "Diagon Alley."
No one heard or stopped him. It was, after all, an absolutely ordinary day that just happened to cram a lot of things in his schedule.
Harry
He got up, showered (he'd already soaked in the bath before going to bed), and went down to breakfast. It all seemed like business as usual until he arrived at the table and found only Susan sitting there with several stacks of pancakes.
Odd.
She usually waited for Willow. She occupied her usual seat to Amelia's right, but Amelia herself was nowhere to be found. DMLE business, he suspected.
"Good morning, Sue," Harry greeted. "Did Amelia already leave?"
"Good morning, Harry," she answered, stifling a yawn. "Aunt Amelia left early for work, yeah."
Harry nodded as he took a seat across from her. "I thought as much, with the whole Azkaban breakout thing going on."
"I hope they don't work her too hard," Susan said.
Harry bit back a retort about how he was pretty sure Amelia was going to be the one working her people hard, and instead asked, "Is Willow still sleeping in?"
"Er, no, actually," Susan answered. "She left. Said she was meeting up with a friend."
Harry's fork stopped in mid-air, a slice of his pancake stuck to the end. "Without you?"
Susan nodded.
Harry bit into his breakfast, savoring the salty butter intermingling with sweet syrup on his tongue before speaking again. "Any idea where she went?"
"She, uh, didn't say."
It wasn't like Willow to wake up before he did. Fred and George told him she was usually the last person on the field during Saturday morning Quidditch Practice and she loved Quidditch.
"Will you be alright on your own?" Harry asked. "I was gonna pop over to Diagon Alley to meet my friends, too."
He couldn't exactly bring her along to talk to Theo about Death Eater business.
Sue smiled warmly in that way Hufflepuffs did. "I'll manage. Willow's been out a few times over the summer."
Harry quirked an eyebrow at that, but didn't ask.
"Say, what electives are you taking?" Harry asked. He felt a little bad for leaving her by herself, so a bit of company over breakfast seemed like the least he could do.
He Flooed out of the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace a few minutes before ten. Anyone who knew him well (and could see through Glamours) could've noticed a briskness to his steps. Slytherins usually sauntered, as if the rest of the world was waiting for them, but he was supposed to meet Theo at ten sharp and he had little time to spare.
You wouldn't be rushing if you didn't spend so long talking to Susan, Nyx chastised him.
I felt bad for her, okay? Harry shot back. I know what it's like to be alone in a house.
She had the House-Elf.
You try talking to Dobby or Gretchin for more than a few minutes.
Point taken.
Harry navigated the surprisingly busy streets of Diagon Alley (shouldn't most Magicals be at work right now?) and made his way to Flourish and Blotts, their designated meeting place.
He found Theo in the History section, with several Privacy charms already in place to prevent eavesdropping. Naturally, he also had several books picked out, with duplicates of things he thought Harry might've liked, and Theo was right nine times out of ten about those.
"You're late," Theo drawled, the hint of a smirk on his face.
"Couldn't get away from a conversation over breakfast," Harry explained, not apologizing. He was positive he'd made it just in time.
Theo nodded that nod he made when he picked up on some hidden message. Which was strange, because Harry hadn't given one. "Like my present?"
"I browsed through it," Harry admitted. "Some very spicy things in there."
"I can show you where I got it," Theo offered.
"Sounds good to me," Harry said. "But you didn't invite me out to peruse books, no matter how spicy their contents might be."
Theo huffed. "Harry, you wound me. You should know reading is a worthwhile use of anyone's time."
Harry quirked an eyebrow at him until Theo's composure cracked and he let out a snicker.
"Fine, fine. I already warded the place up, but if you want to add any extras, feel free," Theo said.
"Nah, seems good," Harry answered. Theo was a bit further along than him when it came to wards and charms. It was a gap he hoped to close now that Theo was willing to share where he'd been getting such juicy spellbooks.
"You've heard about the incident?" Theo asked.
"How could I not? Even the Muggle news channels were covering it."
He then took a moment to answer some of Theo's questions about television in general.
"Fascinating," Theo said. "I guess without Owl Post they had to find a way to distribute information to as wide an audience as possible."
"Truth be told, the primary purpose seems to be entertainment," Harry explained. "You've heard about movies?"
Theo nodded. "I heard books are better."
"Not wrong," Harry conceded. "Though there are some genres that work better as a movie. We should see one sometime. Anyway, what did you want to say about the incident?"
"Oddest thing," Theo began. "Father says he has no idea how the guy pulled it off, and what's even weirder is what he told me afterwards."
"Well, don't kill me with suspense."
"He warned me to stay away from him; that Black was no associate of theirs."
Harry's eyes widened. He didn't even bother to hide it. "Are we talking gone rogue or something else?"
"As in never," Theo said. "There's apparently a lot of people among Father's old associates who've lost family to the man. He used Unforgivables for Dumbledore's side. No one was more surprised when they sent him to Azkaban."
Harry mulled the information over. So Sirius had been one of Dumbledore's, with a good kill count to his name. Why would a man like that suddenly switch sides?
"Imperius?" Harry suggested.
Theo shook his head. "Of course not. You know that would've kept him out."
Harry nodded. The Imperius was a solid defense in court. Keyword being was. The creation of the truth serum, Veritaserum, had made it far harder for wizards to plead innocent.
"Wait," Harry said. "If Sirius was a Light Side wizard and he came after Peter Pettigrew, then wouldn't that mean-"
Theo's eyes lit up in realization. "I'll ask, but who knows what answer I'll get?"
"It's worth a shot," Harry said. "Any word on fallout from last year's adventure?"
"Pansy's parents didn't take their daughter's Petrification very well," Theo said. "Doesn't seem like it's enough, sadly, but that does mean dear Pansy is going to need some support from us, her dear friends."
"Poor Pansy," Harry drawled. "Perhaps Daphne and Tracey could help her in this trying time."
"Indeed. Now, shall we change venues?"
Harry nodded. They paid for their books and left Flourish and Blotts, finding their way to the less-bustling and less-welcoming but certainly more interesting Knockturn Alley.
Where Diagon Alley's shopfronts were inviting and shiny, the denizens of Knocturn seemed not to care about their shop's appearances, which was rather strange, if one believed most of the owners were Slytherins. Perhaps looking dilapidated was meant to throw off the aurors.
"Most doors are locked," Theo explained as they passed by a store that was clearly open for business but had several locks on its entrance. "Owners like to pick their clientele."
Harry nodded. Couldn't be too careful. A Ministry Auror might enter incognito and then bust you for possessing goods of questionable legality.
It went without saying that Theo, as Heir of House Nott, was clear to do business with some of these shops, if not quite all of them.
"What's that one?" Harry asked, inclining his head towards a shop with a name that read 'Borgins and Burkes.' It mostly piqued his curiosity for being one of the few shops that didn't lock its door.
"Antique shop," Theo explained. "Well-connected."
Ah. That explained the brazenness.
"They've got a few books, but the owners are highway robbers," Theo said. He inclined his head in the other direction, towards the shop directly across. "For book shopping, Moribund's is better."
Theo walked up to the door, placed his hand on the knob, and Harry heard the audible clicking as several locks moved to admit Theo in. Theo motioned for Harry to hurry, and he did.
He'd barely gotten through before the door locked itself behind him.
"Interesting," Harry commented as he scanned the store.
Moribund's was dimly-lit by candlelight, and had several bookshelves full of tomes that ranged from vanilla to mildly spicy. A tad disappointing, actually. Harry thought Theo was showing him the big-time books, not the-
"Heir Nott," a man's voice called from behind the counter. "Good to see you again, and who is this you've brought with you?"
Harry glanced at the voice's source and found a young man with rather shabby attire attending the cashier. He had mousey brown hair and a lanky build. Harry would've pegged him to be in his twenties.
"Hey Cecil," Theo answered. "This is Harry, Heir of House Potter."
"Oh, yes, I heard your death was greatly exaggerated, Heir Potter," the man named Cecil said. "A pleasure."
"Likewise."
"Cecil, is the old man in?" Theo asked.
Cecil seemed to look at him curiously, and then back towards Harry, as if weighing whether or not Harry could be trusted. Harry sighed internally and had to restrain himself from setting a snake on the shopkeep.
"He's a Slytherin, Cecil," Theo said with a hint of impatience.
"Really?" the shopkeep asked aloud.
"Are you questioning the word of House Nott?" Theo asked.
"Er, no, of course not, Heir Nott!" Cecil bowed. "My apologies. Moribund is in the back, as usual."
Theo nodded and motioned for Harry to follow him behind the counter and past a curtain that lead into a back area. There was nothing in the musty room save for an empty table and two flimsy wooden chairs.
"Side business," Theo told him. "Room where people can meet in private, for a fee. Most investigators will conclude this is all they're hiding. But, if you know where to look and what to press," Theo trailed off. He placed his hand under the empty table and Harry heard a distinct clicking sound.
The floor in the far right corner of the room suddenly fell, forming a wooden staircase that went deeper into the ground.
"I'll go first," Theo declared. "Old Moribund might think you're a DMLE asset."
He followed Theo down into a much more impressive library lit by everburning candles. There must've been an expansion charm on the place, because it was larger than the store front and the back room combined.
Rows upon rows of bookshelves littered the place, as well as a few tables and chairs for reading, though there didn't seem to be any other clients at the moment. In truth, the only other person in the secret part of Moribund's was a bald, wizened man reading a book in one of the many lounge chairs.
"Theodore," he spoke, not looking up from his book. He had fine black robes that seemed too large for his thin frame. "And Heir Potter. Good to finally meet you."
"You must be Moribund," Harry said. "Clever establishment you've got here."
"Why, thank you," the old man said. "And yes, I am Magnus Moribund, at your service. Well, not personally. Feel free to browse the collection, but if you wish to bring anything home, Cecil takes the payments."
"Mind the protections, though," Theo warned. "You know how some of these tomes are."
Harry nodded. He remembered some of the books from Salazar Slytherin's library that were liable to melt your face off if you didn't know how to sedate them.
"I thought that went without saying," Moribund drawled in a bored tone.
They spent a good deal of time in amicable silence, save for Harry asking Theo for recommendations from time to time. By the end, he'd managed to gather no less than seven books to purchase. Theo had a more modest pile of only two, but in Harry's defense, Theo had been here many times before, and Harry wasn't even sure he could come back by himself.
"We're ready to make our purchases now," Theo said to Moribund, who hadn't moved an inch since they'd arrived.
"One moment," the old bookstore owner said. "Actually, it seems Cecil is a bit occupied. Just leave the money on that table, will you?"
Harry opened his mouth to ask how much before being elbowed by Theo who simply mouthed 'Ten Galleons each.' Harry nodded. It was a bit pricey at about five times the cost of his school textbooks, but then these weren't exactly Ministry-approved. He withdrew seventy Galleons from his Money Bag and placed it on the desk. Theo then placed sixteen for his.
Harry shot him a look. Theo answered with "Long-time customer discount."
"You're thirteen."
"House Nott isn't."
That shut Harry up and earned him an amused chuckle from Moribund.
"Is it clear to go upstairs?" Theo asked.
"Not yet," Moribund answered. "Have a seat and I'll say when."
Harry gave Theo yet another questioning look, but it was Moribund who answered.
"There was a meeting upstairs while you were perusing. It went sour," he explained.
The message was clear: You don't want to get dragged into that mess, so wait.
Harry nodded, packed his new books into his trunk, and went back to browsing the shelves.
Justin
"I understand your position, Mister Newbourne" Justin began. "But surely, with the windfall from out last transaction, a man of your stature can afford to pay what he owes?"
The man on the other side of the flimsy table looked right at home in the dingy, empty room that served as a private meeting place in Knockturn Alley. Justin understood why it looked so plain and unused, but it didn't stop his nose from curling at the thought of conducting business here like some ordinary thug.
"Business has been slow," Mister Newbourne answered, trying to sound amicable. "Black escaping from prison's got the DMLE clamping down on everything and everyone."
Justin knew bollocks when he heard it. "The shipment should've reached you two weeks ago, long before Black escaped. I sincerely doubt the DMLE was cracking down back then."
"Believe what you will, sonny boy, but the fact is, I got nothin' for ya," Newbourne insisted. There was a smirk on his face that told Justin everything he needed to know.
"And the previous shipment?" Justin asked. "We haven't been paid for that one, either."
"Like I said, business has been slow."
Honestly, he wondered why his father still bothered doing business on this end when the muggle side was booming. Sure, they'd gotten their start smuggling illicit goods for Magicals since the Ministry almost never actually bothered with Muggles, but what was the point in keeping relations with people who refused to pay?
"Well," Justin said with audible exasperation. "That's unfortunate, Mister Newbourne."
Newbourne smiled. "It is, isn't it-"
"I was hoping you were a proper Slytherin," Justin said. "But now I see why the Dark Lord didn't take you."
There was visible confusion on Newbourne's face, followed by understanding, and then fury. "You dare take that tone with me, you little Hufflepuff Mudblood?"
Justin watched calmly as Newbourne pulled his wand out of his pocket, and practically shoved the thing in his face. Idiot. Justin could've wrestled it from him at that distance.
"Pure of blood you may be, Mister Newbourne," Justin drawled. "But clearly, blood isn't everything."
"You little-"
Justin adjusted his stance to show he'd been holding his wand the whole time, and had it aimed at Newbourne's heart.
"You think you can take me in a fight?" Newbourne asked. "You're what? Second Year? I could kill you with one spell."
Justin didn't respond, simply keeping his wand leveled at Newbourne, though his hand did start to twitch.
"Go on! Hit me!" the older man yelled. "Better make it count, kid, or you're dead."
Dios. Now.
The shadows in the dimly-lit room seemed to blur as a dark shape pounced on Mister Newbourne, splintering his chair and sending him crashing into the wall. Dios loomed over him, their form wreathed in shadow and making them seem far larger than the three feet Justin knew them to be.
"I warned you not to cross the Finch-Fletchleys, Mister Newbourne," Justin said casually.
"Wait!" the fallen wizard cried out, staring in abject horror at Justin's Familiar. "I can pay! A thousand Galleons, like we agreed!"
Justin made a contemplative humming sound. "I dunno. It feels like we're owed interest on the previous shipment, considering we haven't gotten payment in over a month."
"A thousand and five hundred, then!" Mister Newbourne yelled. "I can't spare a sickle more!"
"It'll suffice," Justin said. "I expect your payment deposited in the agreed Gringotts account by the end of the day. Please remember we know where you live. Are we agreed?"
"Yes, goddammit, yes!"
Justin nodded and rose from his chair.
Dios, keep an eye on him.
Turning your back on an angry, humiliated wizard was foolish, of course, so he'd anticipated what was coming next.
"Stupefy!" Mister Newbourne incanted, and Justin could see the red sparks light up the dim interior even in his peripheral vision.
The spell never made contact, because even more foolish was casting a spell against a Familiar that was highly resistant to magic. Justin turned his head, saw Dios standing on the table to take the Stunner, and smirked like a Slytherin would. Dios seemed entirely unfazed by the spell.
"What- what is that thing?" Newbourne asked, his voice trembling.
"My Familiar, of course," Justin answered matter-of-factly. "Good work, Dioscuria."
"It took a Stunner like it was nothing!" Newbourne yelled, prompting Justin to roll his eyes at the obvious observation.
"I was inspired by a peer of mine," Justin explained. He'd already re-holstered his wand. After all, he couldn't beat an adult wizard in an actual duel. "He told me a story about how he'd used a single snake to defeat dozens, all because he'd given it a few enhancements."
"Enhancements?" Newbourne echoed.
"Yes," Justin said. "See, he used Engorgio to make it larger, and then carefully manipulated the Hardening Charm to give it stone-like scales the other snakes couldn't pierce. I thought it was brilliant, and wondered if I couldn't apply the same concept to something a bit more permanent."
"Let's see how well it protects you from this!" Newbourne said. "Avada Ke-"
Justin's command came faster than words, sending Dios the intent to kill. The shadow's tail rushed toward the older wizard's neck, ending his life with a loud crack as Dios ripped his throat out, blood spraying everywhere. Newbourne looked at him with wide eyes, then clutched at the hole in his throat before Dios pounced and finished him off.
It was only five seconds later when the reality of Justin's actions sunk in: He'd just killed the head of a (minor) Pureblood family over a late payment. At least, that's what the Wizengamot would make it look like. His client had never finished casting the Killing Curse, so they'd never find evidence Justin had only been defending himself.
He'd likely be replacing Black in Azkaban for this.
Justin took several deep breaths to calm himself, and pulled a golden, folding mirror out of his pocket. "H-hello? I fucked up," he spoke into it.
Ten minutes later, Justin stood in disgust over the bloody remains of Mister Newbourne, made to look like he'd been killed by a violent explosion.
Oh, and take his wand, Justin added.
Yes, Master, Dios answered before grabbing the fallen wand in their mouth.
He wordlessly handed Cecil fifty galleons for silence and to clean the place up before walking out the door. He tried his best not to look sick as he walked to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping he wouldn't throw up during the car ride home.
Chapter Text
Moribund finally gave them the 'all clear,' and neither Harry nor Theo could help but stare at the blood stains on the wooden floor and walls. There was no body to be found, but Cecil was still in the middle of cleaning up.
He nodded at them without a word before gesturing that they should go.
They didn't speak until they'd left Knockturn entirely.
"What do you suppose did that?" Harry asked as they steered themselves back to Diagon Alley.
"I would've guessed the Exploding Charm or Blasting Curse but we should've felt something even downstairs," Theo said.
"Hang on. Didn't Black-"
"Allegedly, yes," Theo answered. "Seems like an attempt at throwing the DMLE off to me."
"Makes sense," Harry said. "They're probably getting all sorts of false sightings by now."
"Lunch?" Theo suggested as if they hadn't just witnessed the scene of what was likely a murder. He must've been as curious as Harry, but they both knew there was too little to go on and whatever conclusions they'd draw would only leave them unsatisfied.
"You know a good place?" Harry asked. He hadn't exactly explored the dining places in Diagon Alley, having spent most of the last summer with free meals at the Burrow.
"Right this way," Theo said, leading Harry through the somewhat-thinner crowd towards a large corner building that didn't have any signs or other identification, though Harry could see through the large glass windows that people inside were having lunch in what looked to be a middle-class restaurant.
The attending wizard, who wore sleek black robes that were the equivalent of a butler's outfit spotted Theo and smiled warmly. "Heir Nott! So good to see you again. Table for two?"
"Yes, Heathcliff," Theo answered, but Harry had stopped listening, because through the large windows, a curious sight made him doublecheck his Occlumency barriers.
Nyx, Harry communicated. Is that-
It is! Nyx answered.
"Actually, Theo," Harry said, "You might wanna cancel that."
Theo gave him a confused look, not happy about cancelling. It was poor form, after all. Harry pointedly jerked his head at the window, and all Theo could say was "Oh."
"My apologies, Heathcliff," Theo said. "Afraid I'll have to come back a different day."
"Regrettable, Heir Nott," the man named Heathcliff answered, seeming to catch that they'd seen someone inside they didn't want to run into. "Do come again!"
The two of them walked away from the restaurant at a brisk, but not attention-grabbing pace. They stopped once they rounded a corner, convinced no one was in earshot.
"Did you have any idea?" Harry asked.
"No," Theo answered. "I thought you were seeing her."
"What?" Harry shot back. "Where would you- Oh Merlin, that's what you thought I meant about being occupied at breakfast?"
"In hindsight," Theo conceded, "I might've been reading into it a bit."
This was what they got for playing word games all the time. Maybe Harry would make a rule that if they were sure it was private, they'd keep the wordplay at a minimum.
"Still, your sister and Tracey," Theo breathed. "How? Since when?"
"No idea," Harry said with a mild shrug. "I've been in solitary until yesterday, remember?"
"Maybe there's a perfectly logical alternate explanation," Theo suggested. "Didn't you lend Tracey a book on Familiars? Maybe she just wants Willow's advice."
"My sister doesn't wake up earlier than me and leave the house before I have breakfast just to do someone a favor," Harry said dismissively. "Though it does explain a few things."
Willow being immune to Lockhart's charm. Willow being seemingly oblivious to the crush Ronald (blech) had on her. He'd thought Tracey had just been messing around as usual, but in hindsight, she probably swung both ways.
"Wanna go have lunch on the muggle side of things?" Harry suggested.
Theo seemed to consider before saying, "Only if it's good."
"Suits me," Harry said. "Not really big on fast food, anyway."
Harry had to explain what fast food was as they hailed a taxi. Harry paid the fare after the driver took them to one of the new gastropubs Harry had heard so much about.
Unfortunately, them clearly being teenagers, the bouncer didn't let them in and they had to hail a different taxi to go elsewhere.
"I can't believe I forgot muggles have age restrictions on places that serve alcohol," Harry said.
"Why? Did you want a drink?" Theo asked.
"No, but gastropubs're all the rage in the muggle world right now. Heard about them on the news," Harry answered.
In the end, the two of them decided on pizza because apparently Theo had never eaten a pizza before. Harry decided to go all the way by ordering a pizza that had pineapples on it. He couldn't know if he'd never had pizza without it.
"Where has this been all my life?" Theo asked as he bit into another slice, the cheese still hot enough to leave a trail.
"On this side of the world, evidently," Harry answered.
"Someone needs to introduce this- hell, you and I should do it. We'd make a fortune!"
The thought put a smile on Harry's face. Goals for after Voldemort had been dealt with, huh? Harry could get behind that.
Harry managed to convince Theo to give a muggle movie a try, so they took another taxi to the nearest cinema. Their options were Jurassic Park, Hocus Pocus, and Robin Hood: Men in Tights.
Neither of them were surprised when they both decided to see Jurassic Park.
"Muggle children are idiots," were the first words to come out of Theo's mouth after watching the film.
"Not as dumb as the computer guy," Harry countered with some amusement.
"Fair. I see what you were going for when you were experimenting with Avis now," Theo said. "It's fascinating."
"Didn't I send you a book on dinosaurs for your birthday?" Harry asked.
"Seeing them brought to life on screen is different," Theo admitted.
"Theo, Theo, Theo," Harry tutted. "I would've thought you of all people would have a better imagination. What was that about books always being better than movies?"
"Prat."
They took a taxi back to Diagon Alley so they could both Floo to each other's respective houses. Or so had been their plan, anyway.
Harry, I can smell your sister's fairy, Nyx cautioned just before Harry was about to step into the Leaky Cauldron.
"Nyx says Willow and Tracey might be in there," Harry relayed to Theo.
"Right. King's Cross it is, then," Theo said.
"What?"
"Nearest Floo connection I can think of," Theo explained. "You're not thinking of walking in on their date, are you?"
"Well, we're not sure it's a-"
Theo gave him an 'are you kidding me' look.
"Fine. Fine."
Harry personally wouldn't have cared if Willow had walked in on him having a date with someone, but Theo had a point.
The two of them took yet another taxi (Harry was glad not for the first time that he was rich) to King's Cross Station, entered Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and couldn't help but feel uneasy at how empty the place was. Gone were the usual vendors who hawked their wares to the families as their children climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express. It made sense, but it still felt off.
"Right. Well, I'll see you when I see you," Theo began, but Harry held him in place with a hand on his shoulder.
"Just so we're clear, are you going to be practicing basic Conjuration this summer?" Harry asked.
Theo smirked. "Of course not. That would be illegal." Translation: Yes. Duh.
Harry nodded. "Share if you learn anything interesting."
"What're you going to be doing?" Theo asked.
"Amelia might have something for me," Harry offered. "And if not, Daph has a few ideas. Also working on that project I started last summer, so might not have time to work on my Transfiguration."
"Fine, I suppose I can toss you some scraps off the table," Theo drawled.
Harry slugged him in the arm before he could Floo away. Then, he grabbed a pinch of powder himself and disappeared back to Bones Manor.
He blinked as he stepped out of the fireplace, surprised to find Susan waiting in an armchair. She had a book on Charms open.
"There you are!" she said without looking up, in a tone that had far more confidence than Harry had ever heard from her. "What took you-"
She froze midsentence when she realized she was looking at Harry and not Willow. In her peripheral vision, Harry reasoned, they must've looked pretty similar. He favored her with an easy smirk, but didn't say anything.
"H-hi, Harry," she stammered.
"Hello, Sue," Harry intoned. "Expecting my sister back?"
She nodded. Amusing how differently she acted between him and his sister.
"Any idea where she's been?" Harry asked, trying to sound uninterested.
"Er, no, not really," Sue said. "Like I said, she was supposed to go out with a friend."
Harry nodded. "Well, then, I'll see you-"
He never finished his sentence, because Willow popped out of the fireplace and he'd forgotten to move out of the way. She slammed into him, sending him falling forward.
In perhaps the least dignified five seconds of Harry's life since he'd learned of the Magical World, he fell on his face, his glasses tumbled off to who-knows-where, and he was almost certain Willow had managed to somehow sit on his back.
A loud snort came from in front of him before someone who could only be shy, reserved Susan burst into hysterical laughter.
Harry groaned, and was glad none of his Slytherin friends had been around to witness this.
"Merlin, I wish I had a camera," a familiar, female voice that pushed against his Occlumency mused from behind him.
Of course Tracey would see him like this. Harry wanted to die.
"Harry!" Willow blurted out from atop him before slowly getting up. "What the hell? You should know better than to be standing right in front of the Floo!"
Harry, who'd been floored by standing too close to the Floo, muttered something that sounded like agreement. Nyx, my glasses, please.
Of course, Harry, she said, sounding amused.
Susan was still laughing, and even with his blurred vision, Harry could tell she'd doubled over and almost slid off her chair.
A moment later he was finally back on his feet with his glasses back on his face, and Susan was still clutching her sides and trying to hold her laughter in. Harry sighed almost at the same time Willow did.
"Wait until Daph and Ginny hear about this," Tracey said.
"Just kill me now," Harry muttered. He schooled his features into amusement, and pointedly looked between Willow and Tracey. "What a surprise. Did you two come together?"
"U-uh, yeah," Willow sputtered, her face flushing slightly. "Had to, so the Bones Family Wards wouldn't keep her out."
Tracey didn't say anything, but her smile no longer reached her eyes.
"I wasn't aware you two were on such good terms," Harry said innocently.
"Well, it's not like you know everything about us," Willow said, then looked like she wished she's said 'me' instead of 'us.'
Harry did his best not to look smug. It was bloody difficult.
"They've been hanging out over the summer," Susan supplied with nothing to hint that she thought it was anything else. Still, that they'd been seeing each other over the summer and Theo had no idea told Harry a lot.
Tracey's glance, meanwhile, spoke volumes. Yes, it was a bit more than 'hanging out', and no, Susan and Amelia don't know, and yes, if Harry blabbed she'd hex him so hard not even he'd be able to heal it.
Though why exactly she'd hex him for blabbing wasn't clear. Was she protecting Willow or herself? Both? Sometimes nonverbal communication didn't convey enough information.
Harry gave Tracey the slightest, almost imperceptible nod and let her have fun figuring out what ten thousand hidden messages that might have contained as he turned to Willow and Susan and simply said, "So, dinner for five tonight?"
Willow shook her head. "Amelia's working late."
So Willow called Tracey over because her parent wasn't home? Harry struggled to keep his face impassive. "Oh, alright. Four, then. See you all at dinner?"
They agreed, and Harry retreated to his room.
He couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed when Tracey didn't swing by to explain things to him. Then again, he was her friend, not her superior. She owed nobody an explanation.
Harry decided he didn't like the feeling of being entitled to his friend's subservience. It reminded him too much of the Dursleys.
Their seating arrangement at dinner was curious. Susan usually took the seat next to Willow, but tonight, Willow and Tracey were seated together, and seemingly rather absorbed in a conversation they were having about Quidditch.
"I wish I had a Firebolt," Willow said with a look of longing at an imaginary broomstick.
"Same," Tracey said. "Then again, the Nimbus 2001 is still pretty good."
"I'm still stuck on a 2000," Willow whined. Harry couldn't help but feel reminded of Dudley saying he'd gotten less presents for his birthday. He was sure many other Quidditch players in Hogwarts made do with less.
"Why not just buy one?" Harry asked. "Our trust vaults can afford it."
"I'm not spending all my Galleons on a broom," Willow answered. "Unlike you, I don't have eleven years' worth of my trust vault untouched."
Harry conceded that point. Their trust vault gave them an annual, unfixed (to Harry's annoyance because he could never figure out how it decided) amount of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts to spend each year siphoned from the main vault that they couldn't access until they graduated. His money had piled up over the decade he'd spent at the Dursleys to a point where he mostly didn't need to care about it.
He had checked after splurging on Warhammer models but even that had barely touched his funds.
Besides, he had a shrunken Basilisk cadaver sitting in his trunk. He'd need to figure out how to sell off the components on the black market, but it'd be a nice little windfall that'd fund his experiments until he was old enough to start using the main vault at the very least.
Willow and Tracey shortly returned to being absorbed in their own conversation and each other. Harry shook his head, tried not to roll his eyes, and dug into his food. Gretchin had outdone herself (Willow had probably begged her) with her potato gratin. The stuff practically melted in Harry's mouth.
When dinner was finished, Willow walked Tracey back to the fireplace, and Harry had to physically stop Susan from following them in by laying a hand on her shoulder. Did Susan really not understand what was happening?
Willow came back to the table a few minutes later, her face red as a tomato. Harry's grin was full of mischief.
"Good talk?" he asked.
Willow sputtered something incomprehensible before storming off back to her room.
"They really love Quidditch, don't they?" Susan asked once she and Harry were alone.
"Well, I'm sure they love something veru much," Harry answered noncommittally.
He bade Susan a good night before she could ask what he meant. He was meeting Daphne at Greengrass Manor over the weekend. He wondered if she knew, seeing as how Theo hadn't.
Good night, Nyx, Harry thought.
Sleep well, Harry.
Tracey
Chateau Davis was a modest-sized home in the middle of Magical Britain. Well, perhaps a bit larger than most, especially when one considered the breadwinner of the family made a living writing articles for the daily prophet.
The house didn't cover much land, but it had four floors, not counting the basement. Tracey stepped out of the dining room fireplace and into the dimly-lit space where none of the three residents actually ate.
"You're late," Nick Davis said as he spotted her. He was seated alone at the head of the table, still wearing his work clothes: A blue, crumpled polo shirt under a pair of suspenders and a tie. He'd left his favorite fedora elsewhere, letting his slick black hair show.
"I couldn't just leave," Tracey answered evenly. Her birth father reeked of alcohol. Her heightened senses could pick it up even though he was halfway across the room.
"So, did you get anything?" he said with a bit of a slur, ignoring her words like he usually did.
"Not yet."
Nick's face contorted in annoyance. "Two years and you can't give me anything juicy about the Potter Twins? What the hell is that vampire mojo for, then?"
"I told you," Tracey said. "They're both Occlumens. Willow is the Girl Who Lived. Of course they trained her, and Harry, well, Harry's complicated. Besides, you weren't complaining when I plied that Azkaban guard's head about how Black got out."
It wasn't strictly true, of course: She wasn't sure Willow was an Occlumens at all.
"Didn't even get me to the front page," Nick whined. "Bet your mother could've gotten something out of 'em. Why do I even send you to Hogwarts if you can't get me any scoops? Your year has brats from all the big names: Nott, Malfoy, Potter, Greengrass, fucking Longbottom, but you haven't gotten me anything."
"Mama isn't well," Tracey reminded him. She was having a hard time keeping her voice even. "So I'm all you've got."
"Who do you think pays the healer's bills? Hm?" Nick shot back. "So you better get me something soon, or I'm cutting you and your leech mother off."
"She's your wife!" Tracey shouted.
"Only 'cause you happened," Nick said, waving her off. "Right now she's just a really expensive vegetable."
She could've killed him. She was faster, probably stronger, at least physically. He might've been a grown wizard, but all she needed to do was get close fast enough and break his windpipe. Then, his hands. No more spells. He would've been completely at her mercy.
Only the question of who would pay for Mama's healer bills stopped her in place. "I'm going to bed. Good night."
Nick just shrugged and let her go.
Instead of going to her room on the fourth floor, however, Tracey made her way to the second, where her Mama slept.
Maria Davis was beautiful, even though she hadn't worn makeup in years and her condition kept her confined to this room for most hours of the day. Long, dark hair framed a face that was perhaps a little thinner than what was considered healthy. She was paler than Tracey, almost as if her skin glowed.
Her eyes opened as Tracey slipped into her room. "Is that you, my little night terror?"
"Yes, Mama," Tracey said, stepping into the light.
Her mother smiled with apparent effort. "You were out again today."
"I was." She took a seat on the bed next to her mother. "I just got back, actually."
"Were you with someone special?" Maria teased.
Tracey huffed. "Mama, weren't you the one who told me reading minds without permission is rude?"
"I don't have to read your mind, my little night terror. I'm your mother."
Tracey inched closer to her mother and told her all about her day with Willow.
Notes:
How much subplot do I want? Yes.
The next three chapters are all connected so I am debating uploading all three at once, but probably not so we can have a decent upload pace.
Also, to those few people (might've been one) who guessed the ship during the walk to Aragog in Heir Regent, I salute you.
Chapter 5: The Grass is Greener Here, Part One
Notes:
My internet and PC are both fine again so to celebrate, have a three-for-one deal.
Chapter Text
Harry
Harry inspected himself in the mirror as the bright morning sun filtered in through his window. He'd put on Daphne's gift: the fine black robes that molded to fit his shape, and realized he looked pretty darn good. His hair was evenly slicked back with product, and despite hitting his teens, Harry's face was still as smooth as when he'd been a little boy, minus the Observer's Keyhole Mark on his forehead, of course.
How do I look? Harry communicated.
Passable, Nyx answered.
Harry nodded, deciding that was as good as he'd get that morning from his familiar. Amelia's gift, as it did every day since he'd gotten it, went under these robes, in case something unexpected happened. Didn't hurt to be careful. He took one last look to ensure nothing was out of place before making his way to the Floo-connected fireplace in Bones Manor.
He'd told Willow and Susan where he was going, though he'd downplayed it to Daphne's parents wanting to meet their daughter's unusual friend from House Potter.
The truth couldn't have been so simple. Not only had he saved Daphne's life the previous year, he'd also minimized the damage to House Greengrass' public image by painting her as a collaborator of his rather than a victim of Riddle.
No, this would be no ordinary visit. Nor would it strictly be just Daphne's parents trying to get a first impression of their daughter's friend. House Greengrass owed a life debt to House Potter, and this meeting would help both parties figure out how they'd start repaying it.
Harry made sure Nyx latched onto his shoulder before his dragonhide-gloved hand took a pinch of green powder. He yelled "Greengrass Manor!" and stepped into the flames.
The familiar pull of the Floo connection brought both him and Nyx to a surprisingly open chamber with dark marble floors and walls. Several suits of armor lined said walls, illuminated by everburning torches.
A mezzanine loomed above, accessible by a pair of u-shaped marble staircases to either side. At the foot of one of these stairs stood none other than Daphne. She looked at him with barely-hidden amusement as he took in both the strange room he was in and her.
Daphne wore a deep blue, sleeveless a-line dress that really brought out her sapphire eyes. It was then that Harry realized he'd never seen Daphne out of robes before. He'd expected her arms to be slender, but instead he found just the faintest hint of muscle definition. Not quite as defined as his or Tracey's after multiple sessions of Beater practice, but Daphne clearly did some sort of weight training regularly.
"Glad to see you made it on time," Daphne spoke, smirking.
Harry met her smirk with his own. "Of course I did. It seemed important to you." His eyes visibly roamed the chamber. "This is a rather well-defended Floo connection."
"You've an astute eye, Heir Potter," a woman's voice spoke from the mezzanine.
Harry's eyes quickly locked onto the source, and found an older version of Daphne leaning on the railing. She wore a dress that matched her daughter's save for being a deep green with a slightly longer skirt.
"Lady Greengrass," Harry spoke, bowing his head slightly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
To his surprise, she returned the gesture. "I know you've heard it from my daughter, but allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Victoria Greengrass, and the pleasure is all mine. My husband is equally pleased, if he would deign to speak."
She grinned mischievously, and a dark-haired man Harry hadn't noticed earlier stepped forward to join his wife. He wore robes very similar to Harry's. "My apologies, dear. I couldn't find a good time to jump in."
"Apologize to our guest," Lady Greengrass said. "Not me."
Harry very briefly made eye contact with Daphne and shot her a small grin, loaded with the message 'Now I see where you get it from.' Her smirk deepened just a little bit in response.
Are you sure you two aren't telepathically linked, too? Nyx asked.
I wish. Would make lots of things so much easier, Harry replied.
"My apologies for the late introduction, Heir Potter. My name is Clarence Greengrass," the man spoke. "It's an honor to meet our daughter's savior."
"No need to apologize, Lord Greengrass. I only did what any friend would do," Harry replied evenly.
"I think you rather did more than that," Victoria said. "Defeating Lord Voldemort's shade, even if it was his teenage self, isn't something just anyone can do."
"Lady Greengrass, I hope you're not implying a thirteen year old boy could have defeated the Dark Lord, even if he wasn't quite himself," Harry said. "I had help. Lots of it."
"No, you didn't, Heir Potter," Victoria said bluntly. "You had only the young Miss Potter and Theodore as backup. Rest assured," she said when she saw Harry's eyes widening, "I appreciate how you've spun the tale, but I had to know the truth in its entirety to decide how House Greengrass should act. Please don't be angry with my daughter."
"Of course not," Harry said, recovering quickly. "She was only trying to do what was best for your family. So you know the extent of my abilities, then?"
Harry sincerely hoped Daphne had left out the part about the fever dreams and the eldritch patron that granted him favor.
"You're creative," Victoria answered. "You use simple spells and magical devices considered mere playthings in ways that defy convention, and this has earned you an astounding degree of success for one so young. In fact," Victoria paused, seemed to consider, and said, "Heir Potter, you said this chamber was well-defended, but can you tell me how?"
A test, was it? He could do that.
"Call me Harry, please," he said to buy himself a moment of time.
"Then call me Victoria," she told him.
"And myself Clarence," her husband chimed in.
"My honor," Harry answered almost automatically. "For starters, you have an elevated position over anyone who enters the Floo connection, and the stairs are arranged in a way that climbing them offers no cover from anyone on the mezzanine. In other words, you have the high ground."
Victoria gestured for him to continue.
"I'm reaching here, but I rather suspect that the suits of armor are enchanted to be activated by some kind of password? They'd be difficult to destroy, given their immunity to the Killing Curse and I presume resistance to many others."
"Close," Daphne answered. "The Greengrass Knights only answer to the Head of House."
"Which would be me," Victoria said. "I wonder, Harry, how would you escape, if I were to suddenly turn these defenses on you?"
"I presume the Floo would be blocked?" Harry asked.
Victoria nodded. Of course.
"I'd try diplomacy first, naturally," Harry said. "If I came here as an enemy, I'd get leverage beforehand. And if that doesn't work? I start conjuring things and hope for the best. First order of business would be to neutralize the suits of armor (he did not voice that this meant taking Victoria out ASAP though she probably understood that), then once things are a bit more even, re-evaluate and go from there."
The Head of House Greengrass smiled. "A good opener, but remember not all threats are immediately apparent. But we've dallied here too long. Join us for lunch, Harry?"
"I'd be delighted to," Harry answered, wondering what else the chamber had for defenses that he wasn't seeing.
Victoria and Clarence went ahead without waiting for them, likely on purpose to give them a chance to discuss with more than just meaningful looks and muted gestures before they all gathered in one place.
"Don't suppose you'd tell me what else I didn't notice?" Harry asked as he joined Daphne, offering his arm on a whim. It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.
"Our houses might be allied now," Daphne drawled as she took his offered arm. "But that doesn't mean we can tell you all our secrets."
They slowly ascended the stairs, arm in arm. "Fair enough, Daph. Do your parentsss know about your newfound gift?"
"Yesss," she answered. "They know you're ssstill a Ssspeaker, too, but I did not ssshare you are Heritor of Ssslytherin. Had nothing to do with your sssaving me."
"Thanksss for that," Harry hissed, letting himself smile a bit. "What ssshould I expect?"
"Like I wrote you," Daphne hissed back. "Lunch they'll probably be trying to get to know you, and then after, a formal meeting to talk about compensssation."
Harry nodded. He'd prepared for that. "By the way, calisssthenics?"
"Pardon me?"
"I didn't know you worked out," Harry said.
"Oh. Of courssse I do," Daphne answered. "Wouldn't be much of a duelissst if I wasss out of ssshape. You don't have to worry about it becaussse of Quidditch, but the ressst of usss do."
"Looking back, I ssshould've guesssed," Harry answered.
Daphne smirked at him as they reached the mezzanine. "Are my armsss ssso fassscinating that we'll ssspend the entire walk talking about them?"
Harry's face suddenly felt very warm. "No, sssorry. You're right. We have other thingsss to talk about."
"The great Harry Potter, reduced to a gibbering little boy by a pair of toned armsss," Daphne said. "No wonder you hang out with Tracey ssso much."
Harry found himself without any kind of witty remark to counter with. He'd been about to protest that Tracey was seeing someone else and they were only friends and teammates before deciding that wasn't his secret to share.
"Fine, fine. I can be merciful," Daphne hissed in amusement. "What shenanigansss do you have planned thisss sssummer?"
"Trunk upgrade, dueling lessonsss," Harry answered. "Have a ritual I wanna perform on Nyx with the Basssilisk Fang, need to figure out why I'm qualified to be the Heir. I'm sssure I'm forgetting sssomething."
"We can help with all of that except the bit with Nyx,"Daphne answered. "Speaking of whom, hello, Nyx."
The little fairy smiled and waved at the Greengrass heir. She could understand English perfectly by now, of course, but speaking it was another thing entirely. Fairies didn't seem to have the proper set of mouth and voice parts to speak like people did.
Tell her I said hi, and also that she looks very pretty, Nyx communicated.
Harry relayed the message in Parseltongue.
"Thank you. You're as beautiful as ever, yourself," Daphne answered.
"What did you mean, you could help me with the lassst part?" Harry asked.
Daphne smiled smugly. They'd come out of the mezzanine and into the manor proper. The marble walls gave way to stone ones lined with various swords, maces, axes, and spears mounted on ornamental plaques. Harry wondered if those could come to life, too.
"Thought I'd look through a few genealogy booksss while you were occupied by the pig family," Daphne explained. "I can ssshow you my findingsss after the meeting."
"You actually found a link between the Pottersss and Ssslytherin?" Harry asked.
Daphne nodded. "A dissstant one, maybe. Your ancestorsss really got around, no innuendo intended. Did you know there wasss a branch of your Houssse in America?"
"No, I didn't," Harry answered.
"Seemsss they were in America around the time Ilvermorny wasss founded," Daphne said. "Sssome of them came back here eventually and rejoined the main housssehold."
"What doesss thisss have to do with the Chamber?" Harry asked.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Ilvermony wasss founded by Isolt Sssayre, daughter of Rionach Sssayre, a daughter of Houssse Gaunt."
Harry's eyes widened and he stopped walking. Daphne hadn't so she almost stumbled. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry!"
Daphne glared at him with the coldness of an arctic blizzard. "You're lucky you sssaved my life."
"Sssorrry, I jussst needed a moment," Harry hissed. "Ssso you're sssaying, one of my ancestorsss hooked up with a dessscendant of the Gauntsss in America, then came back here?"
"No, the recordsss didn't have anything conclusssive," Daphne said. "But they're unlikely to account for children born out of wedlock, essspecially if one parent isss married to sssomeone elssse. I only meant it might explain your connection. That'sss all. Asss a primarily Gryffindor family, I sussspect the Pottersss took any sssuch children in and treated them asss legitimate children. They would've had the influence for it."
"So my ancestors were explorers," Harry muttered. He silently asked Daph if they could continue forward, and she agreed. "Explains Willow's affinity for flying and getting into weird situations."
"Says one of the two star beaters of the Slytherin team who fought Tom Riddle's memory," Daphne said dryly.
Harry smirked. "Well, I never said I never got anything out of it. Speaking of new situations I find myself in, though, Daph, when were you going to tell me you live in a castle?"
They'd arrived in a large entrance slightly smaller than Hogwarts'. To their right was a a pair of large double doors that seemed to lead into the gardens. A large staircase to their left led upwards to an equally grand pair of doors that Harry presumed opened into some kind of ballroom or function hall, at least. Daphne kept leading him forward, across the entrance hall and presumably wherever they would be dining.
"It's part of the reason people call me the Ice Princess," Daphne said. "It was just 'Princess' when I was younger, but the teasing got on my nerves and you can probably guess what happened next."
Harry nodded. Magic or no, Daphne wasn't someone you pissed off if you could avoid it.
"Was this started by someone I know personally?" Harry hazarded.
"You threaten his life at least once a year," Daphne answered with a smirk.
Harry nodded in understanding. Well, that explained why Daphne's first instinct when picking a target for the Basilisk had been Malfoy, at least.
"Wait. Is it alright for me to be escorting you like this, then?" Harry asked. Their arms were still linked together.
"Did you want to stop?"
"Er, no, not really," Harry answered, silently cursing himself for stammering.
"Then stop acting like an idiot," she told him. "I wouldn't have accepted the offer if I didn't want to."
"Right," he said.
"I can run you through the dueling forms myself," Daphne said, fluidly moving on to another topic. "Isabela would probably demand at least that much."
Right. Isabela. Daphne's dueling tutor she'd mentioned before.
"Is my form really that bad?"
"You're just copying Lockhart, of all people," Daphne reminded him.
"Right."
"Knowing her, she'll probably encourage you to hone your rather unique style rather than train you exactly like how she trains me," Daphne explained.
Harry grinned. "That's a really nice way of saying I fight weird."
She grinned back. "Did you think most wizards used bandages to attack people?"
They chattered pleasantly until Daphne guided him left into a chamber that turned out to be a cozy little dining room, likely just for the main members of the Greengrass household and a few guests.
Victoria and Clarence were already seated at a table of fine dark wood. A young, dark-haired girl Harry presumed to be Daphne's younger sister sat next to Clarence, who sat next to Victoria, who in turn, was at the head of the table.
Harry grasped desperately for the young girl's name but his mind was drawing a blank.
I believe it's Astoria, Nyx offered.
Thank you.
Daphne took the seat across her father's to her mother's left, and Harry sat beside her, putting him opposite of Astoria Greengrass.
"You must be Harry Potter," Astoria greeted.
"Astoria, dearest," Victoria cut in. "That's Heir Potter. Mind your manners. My apologies for my youngest's rudeness, Harry."
Harry smiled easily. "No, it's no issue at all. In fact, please, call me Harry, Miss Greengrass."
"See, mum? I just wanted to get it outta the way," Astoria said, beaming. She was either the polar opposite of her calculating older sister or secretly the same. Harry couldn't tell. "You can call me Astoria, but my friends call me Tori."
"Tori it is, then," Harry said. "Are you going to be starting school this year?"
She nodded. "Yep! I hope I get in Slytherin!"
Harry shot a glance at Daphne that said 'Is she going to be okay in Slytherin?' Daphne didn't seem to have an answer.
"Well, if you really want Slytherin, you can just say so," Harry told her. "The Hat gave me other options but I said no."
"Really?" Astoria said with wide eyes and an infectious grin.
Victoria cleared her throat, and her daughter seemed to get the hint because she quieted down. Harry blinked and found a bowl of salad materialized in front of him.
"Ah good, I was famished," Clarence said as he dug into his salad. Harry took that as his cue to do the same.
As they ate, Victoria turned an eye to him. "So, Harry, Daphne tells us you're an excellent duelist."
Harry made sure to swallow his food before answering. He wasn't Willow.
"Oh, I wouldn't say excellent," Harry said. Modesty wasn't really a virtue of Slytherin House, but accepting a bold claim like that in front of a family who took dueling seriously seemed like a bad idea. "I just tend to do things people don't expect. I'm sure Daph's mentioned some of the things I do."
"She has," Victoria answered. "But that's exactly the thing. Flexibility is a big part of dueling, and you seem to exploit others' lack of it rather expertly. Is it true you've had no formal training?"
"Well, I've had a single session of Dueling Club," Harry admitted. "But other than that and a bit of extracurricular practice with friends, no, I've never really dueled before."
"But your reflexes are evidently pretty good, are they not?"
"Quidditch," Harry answered. "If I can block an iron ball whizzing through the air while on a broom, I can dodge or parry a spell with a spoken incantation on the ground."
"Oh, yes, you do play Quidditch, don't you, Harry?" Clarence chimed in. "Did you have plans to pursue a career in it after Hogwarts?"
"Clarence is a big fan of the Irish Quidditch Team," Victoria explained with a tone that said she didn't share her husband's interest.
Harry, being a Slytherin himself, knew a practiced dig for information when he saw one.
"Well, I'm only starting third year," Harry said without missing a beat. "I haven't really decided for certain, but I don't think I'll be playing Quidditch for a living."
Would all his meetings with his friends' parents lead to inquiries into his plans for life? Harry didn't mind too much since he seldom got a chance to attend family gatherings of his own, but he could see it becoming exhausting if it kept happening.
"Perhaps a future in enchantment, then?" Victoria asked. "Johanna tells me you've had a few interesting ideas."
Ah, so John had changed back. Harry had been wondering. "I'm afraid I haven't really tried my hand at it. As I said, I think I'm too young to be deciding what I'll do with the rest of my life. Well, besides taking the Potter seat on the Wizengamot at some point, of course."
"Ah, you won't be abdicating to your sister?" Victoria questioned.
"Victoria, can you imagine a Gryffindor trying her hand at politics?" Harry paused for effect, then shook his head. "It'd be a massacre. Just look how poor Albus is doing."
Victoria smirked but didn't rise to the bait. Their family had been neutral during the battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore.
The Greengrasses continued to probe Harry for information as they ate. Food slowly appeared on the table, replacing whatever course they'd gotten through with new ones. Harry willingly parted with whatever information he thought wasn't too vulnerable or better left unsaid. They may have owed him, but he couldn't trust that they wouldn't try to get out of it at a later date. House Greengrass might've prided itself on its honor, but being honorable and being cunning weren't mutually exclusive, especially when it came to the House Daphne belonged to.
"This is lovely," Harry said as he worked on dessert: a layered cake of different kinds of chocolate covered by a thick helping of icing. The rest of the meals had been some of the best he'd had, too. Did Daphne always eat like this when she was home?
"I'm glad you like it," Victoria said. "Daphne has a weakness for chocolate. Our House Elves do their best to accommodate when she's home."
To her credit, Daphne didn't loudly chastise her mother for calling her out in front of a guest. This was a girl who'd been confident she could take Riddle on her own. Even if she'd turned out to be wrong, that spoke volumes about Daphne's ability to keep things together.
She let the comment pass unchallenged, as if beneath her notice.
When they were all finished eating and the remaining dishes vanished from wherever they'd come from, Victoria looked pointedly at her youngest daughter and said, "Tori, dearest, you should run along. We're going to be talking about some incredibly dull things."
"Right," Astoria answered. "See you later, Daphne, Harry."
The small girl excused herself from the room and skipped off to who-knows-where.
"I mean no offense, but are you sure she'll be alright in Slytherin?" Harry asked.
"Honestly, I'd be happier if the Hat put her in Hufflepuff," Victoria admitted. "But she is a Greengrass, and she'll go wherever she thinks is right."
Harry nodded. He could respect that. "Will we be staying here or-"
"Here's fine, unless you'd prefer to conduct this conversation in the drawing room down the hall."
"No, I have no issues," Harry said. "I'm sure every room in this castle is pretty much secure, and I suspect I'll be seeing more of it over the summer."
"Do you understand your position, then?" Victoria asked with some amusement.
"I have an idea," Harry said coolly. "But as much as I enjoy verbal gymnastics, I'd appreciate if we didn't mince words for something as important as this, especially now that Tori is no longer here."
"I'll be blunt, then," Victoria said, though she seemed no less amused. "You saved my Heir and daughter, and almost as important, you did it without tarnishing our House's name. We owe you a great debt - one that might not be paid within a single generation. It would help us figure out how to begin repaying it if we knew your goals. Money, Power, Influence, Knowledge - House Greengrass possesses all."
Harry considered her words, and then considered his own with greater care. "Well, my most immediate goal is to vanquish Voldemort before he does harm to me or my own."
Clarence visibly swallowed a lump in his throat.
Victoria, much like her daughter, was unfazed by Harry's declaration. "One of our retainers, Isabela Dubois, is a fantastic duelist. She trained Daphne, as I'm sure our daughter's told you at least once or twice. We'd be happy to shoulder her fees."
"That's mighty generous," Harry said. "I presume we'll be doing these lessons here?"
"For convenience, yes," Daphne answered. "I hope you don't complain to me about having a home field advantage or some other tripe."
"Me? Never," Harry said. "You must have me confused with Ronald or Draco."
"And after hearing Daphne's account of how you utilized one of our products," Victoria continued on. "House Greengrass would be willing to waive our fees on any future Carriage products you order."
"So I'd only need to pay for Johanna's professional fee plus cost of materials?" Harry asked.
Victoria nodded. "Correct. That should cut the cost by roughly a third. We'd also be willing to share Rights to whatever you and Johanna or John create instead of keeping them for ourselves."
Frankly, Harry hadn't expected this much. A discount like that would save him tens of thousands of Galleons in the course of his lifetime, assuming he didn't die an early death. "That's rather generous of you."
"It's not," Daphne said, an edge in her tone.
Victoria's gaze wandered to her daughter in a silent question that Harry thought meant 'what are you doing?'
"I, for one, consider my life a great deal more valuable than a discount and sponsored dueling lessons," Daphne elaborated. She turned to Harry. "Didn't Lockhart teach you to spot a raw deal?"
"He did," Harry said, doing his best to hide his surprise. "But honestly, it's a lot more than what I had an hour ago."
"That's exactly my point," Daphne said with a soft sigh. "It may be a lot more than what you had earlier, but what mother is offering doesn't even begin to scratch House Greengrass' resources. You're essentially agreeing to be repaid with things that wouldn't cost us a sickle."
"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Harry asked.
"Of course," Victoria said. She must've been as baffled by her daughter's outburst as he was. "You can use the drawing room if you like."
"Thank you. We'll be back shortly."
Chapter 6: The Grass is Greener Here, Part Two
Chapter Text
Harry excused himself from the room with Daphne right behind him. He stopped when he remembered he didn't actually know where the drawing room was. Daphne rolled her eyes and took him down the direction opposite where they'd arrived from. At the very end of the wing was a spiral staircase heading upwards that Harry suspected was an honest-to-goodness castle tower, but right before that was a rather undecorated door to their left. Daphne stopped there. Harry took the hint.
He pulled the door open and ushered her inside. The drawing room was larger than the dorm he shared with Theo and Blaise back in Hogwarts, with large windows that offered a good view of the outside garden. Three black Italian couches were arranged in a reverse U-shape around a small wooden table. The room was rather sparsely decorated otherwise, which Harry decided must have been on purpose.
He took a seat on the couch to his right. To his surprise, Daphne sat down next to him on his left instead of across.
"Go ahead," Daphne said.
"No word games," Harry told her. "What's eating you?"
"House Greengrass should be throwing our lot in with you against Voldemort," Daphne answered. "You saved my life and our reputation in the same stroke."
"I feel like that's where we're not connecting," Harry said. He leaned against the couch's arm, turning left to face her. "Look, Daph, we're friends. Allies, even. I don't need written assurances that House Greengrass will come to my aid when the Dark Lord rises again because I have you. You are Heir Greengrass, and I think I know you well enough by now to know you wouldn't throw me to the wolves when the going gets tough. Victoria doesn't need to assure me of anything. Hell, she doesn't know what she's getting into, offering me lessons from an expert duelist and giving me a discount on enchanting services in the same day."
He grinned at that last bit. Daphne didn't return it.
"Well, she should," Daphne said. "You might be the brightest wizard of our age."
"That isn't universally true, and you know it. Theo has greater knowledge of the dark arts and connections on that side of the law. Now he's developed an interest in some of the ideas I've been bringing to the table, too. I expect he'll figure out how to conjure dinosaurs before I do."
Daphne didn't look convinced, so he went on.
"Tracey might have limited social standing because of her unusual heritage but she can control rumors and squeeze information out of people in ways I never could. No slouch in a duel, either. Blaise is… Nevermind. Not a skillset I particularly envy."
Blaise's talents weren't the sort you brought up in a conversation like this. Despite herself, Daphne perked up a bit at that.
"And you, you're a brilliant duelist with all these resources at your disposal. If things had been reversed and I'd been under Riddle's control, I couldn't think of anyone better than you or Theo to come save me. Hell, you were beating me handily at dueling practice after that first time. You were there when I made the Prydwen, and with time, I'm sure you could devise something even more interesting than what I came up with."
Daphne shook her head and switched to Parseltongue. "And you're the Heritor of Ssslytherin who defeated Tom Riddle's memory along with Salazar's death trap. You've forged an alliance with a colony of Acromantula, and those are jussst your crowning achievements in our second year. You even bypassssed the defenses around the Philosopher'sss Ssstone at the end of firssst year without breaking a sssweat. I'm sssure by the end of this year you'll sssingle-handedly put Sssirius Black back in Azzzkaban or something."
Harry smiled softly as he answered her back in Parseltongue. "But you sssee, Victoria only knowsss about sssome of that, doesssn't she? So I'm sure she'ssss wondering why her sensssible and cunning Heir is ssso eager to turn her House into a vassal of House Potter'sss, essspecially when Houssse Potter doesn't even have an actual physical house at the moment."
Harry paused and switched back to English. "So, as ironic as this will sound after I just told you we're friends and allies, please drop it for now. When Victoria deems you ready to lead House Greengrass, then you can dictate what kind of relationship our Houses will have."
Daphne shook her head, sighed, but returned his smile. "You're really bad at this budding dark lord thing."
"See? Not the brightest wizard of our generation."
They made their way back to the dining room and found snacks had materialized: an assortment of biscuits and a pot of tea.
"Help yourself, Harry," Clarence told him.
"Thank you. Don't mind if I do."
Once they were situated and back in good spirits, Harry took his chance to speak. "Thank you for extending these courtesies to me, Victoria, Clarence. I'm glad to count myself one of House Greengrass' friends."
"It's we who owe thanks to you," Victoria answered, acting like Daphne's outburst had never happened.
Once they'd parted ways, Daphne showed him around the castle, stating she didn't want him getting lost without her. The underwhelmingly-named Greengrass Manor was beautiful, and as Harry noticed earlier, displayed many relics of the family's past: A shield that once deflected the Killing Curse from a dark wizard, a dagger that could be used to cast magic (though Daphne said that particular ancestor had died from an accident using it), and much more.
It was both fascinating and pleasant to explore Daphne's home alongside her. As he'd mentioned earlier, the Potters had no ancestral home. Not an intact one, anyway. Voldemort had destroyed their place at Godric's Hollow and no one had thought to restore it for the past decade. He wondered how many heirlooms had been lost.
Eventually, she walked him back to the Floo connection. "So, Harry, see you tomorrow for dueling practice?" she asked as they stood in front of the inert fireplace.
"Of course. I can't wait to meet this instructor of yours. Sounds bloody brilliant."
"Funny. That's what she said when I told her about how you duel."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"No." She grinned. "She said you sounded like a nutter."
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Harry said.
"See you tomorrow." Daphne smiled. There was no coldness or smugness to it.
A moment passed, and then another, and Harry still hadn't reached for the Floo powder.
You two are being stupid, Nyx commented.
"Right," Harry answered aloud, finding himself grinning. "I guess I should go."
Daphne's smile vanished, replaced by her trademark smirk, and Harry wondered if his eyes had been playing tricks on him. "Yes, you should. Until tomorrow, Harry."
He Flooed back to Bones Manor with Nyx on his shoulder. He stepped out of the fireplace and found the living room empty. Willow and Susan must've been elsewhere.
He retreated to his room until dinner and then slept early so he'd have energy for his first dueling lesson with this Isabela character Daphne seemed to look up to so much.
The next morning, Harry crossed through the courtyard of Greengrass Manor to meet Daphne and Isabela. The castle was nowhere near as difficult to navigate as Hogwarts, and Harry could get around Hogwarts with ease these days.
The Greengrass gardens were, of course, impeccably maintained. Trimmed hedge walls formed trails one could either leisurely stroll through or get completely lost in. Lush evergreens enveloped the edges of the garden like an impenetrable green wall.
The center of the garden was marked by a single fountain shaped like a statue of a snake coiled around a sturdy-looking tree trunk. It wasn't officially the House's insignia, but Daphne had told him an ancestor commissioned it to honor how nearly all Greengrasses found their way to Slytherin.
Pristine water spilled out of its mouth facing away from the castle and into the basin below.
Daphne had instructed him during their tour the previous day to take the left cobblestone path and keep walking until he saw an amphitheatre that House Greengrass used for exhibition duels.
A wide, open space surrounded by a semicircle of seating tiers made of smooth stone rose before him. In contrast to the rest of the garden being covered in grass, the ground there was just packed earth: A sensible choice when one took collateral damage into account.
Not seeing any sign of his blonde friend, Harry took a seat on the bottom tier facing the center of the gardens and decided to wait, popping open his copy of Getting Even More Familiar with your Familiar.
Harry, do you think I could go look around while you two are busy? Nyx asked.
Go for it.
Thanks. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone! Nyx leapt off his shoulder and flew off to explore the expansive gardens.
Harry didn't wait long before Daphne came into view, taking the same path he had. She held a bottle of water in one hand. Her wand holster appeared visibly on her right wrist, as she'd opted to wear a black tank top and sweatpants instead of robes. It was a rather flattering look on her, which was to be expected of someone who owned a clothing brand, he supposed. He suddenly felt a lump in his throat which he did his best to swallow down.
"Good morning, Harry," she said as she got within ten paces of him.
"Good morning," Harry squeaked.
"Sorry I'm late," Daphne said, not sounding sorry at all. "Had to finish my morning workout."
"How diligent of you," Harry said, cursing himself silently as the words 'morning workout' threatened to pull his gaze lower than he thought would be polite. "I honestly haven't gotten any exercise since Quidditch ended."
"You should keep a simple routine up when you're away," Daphne suggested. "You lose it pretty quickly if you don't use it."
"Well, at least I'll be getting some exercise in today," he said, smiling. "Where is our Instructor?"
"Won't be here until after lunch." Daphne smirked. "I told you, Harry, she'd at least expect you to have good form before she met you."
"Ah, then, I suppose that means-"
Daphne raised her wand in a ready stance, like a fencer with her foil. "On your feet, then."
Harry nodded and stood. He'd come in a black shirt and denim jeans, with his body armor underneath, of course. "I'm all yours, Professor."
He saw Daphne's usual cool confidence slip for just barely a second before she collected herself. "Right. Stand like this: Feet apart, back straight, make sure your feet are flat on the ground so your foundation is strong, but stay light. Dueling is as much about footwork as it is about your wand."
Harry wanted to argue that he'd dueled before, but reasoned it would be easier to let her go at it. "Like this?"
"Exactly, Mister Potter," Daphne drawled. "Ten points to Slytherin."
Harry grinned.
"Flipendo!" A burst of blue light flew from Daphne's wand. Harry just barely had time to slash it out of the air with his wand.
He shot her a look that said 'What the hell, Daph?' before firing off a Knockback Jinx of his own. Daphne gracefully stepped out of its path.
"Just like that. Keep your feet firmly on the ground unless you're dodging. Immobulus!"
The wave of energy splashed harmlessly against the stone seats as Harry dived out of its way. Unfortunately, a second blast hit him while he was prone on the ground.
"And if you are going to dodge, limit your movements so you're not leaving yourself a giant opening like that," Daphne said. "Finite Incantatem."
Harry's ability to move returned to him quickly, which surprised him a bit. Daphne usually preferred to let people grovel before she released them. "You're not going to make me beg?"
She shrugged. "No one else is here, so why bother?"
"I didn't know you liked an audience," Harry teased. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Daphne slashed the spell apart before it could get anyhere near her. She shot back an Incendio, which Harry gingerly sidestepped.
"Better," she told him. "And no, I mean since it's just you and me here, we don't have to squabble over who's in charge."
Harry shot her a questioning look.
"Now," she said, "Try dodging this. Glacius!"
Daphne's favorite spell cast a wave of frost from her wand, expanding outwards to a size that was far too big for him to evade. Harry swore internally. "Incendio!"
A feeble flame streamed out of his wand, forming a flimsy wall of fire right in front of him just as Daphne's attack hit. The freezing spell swept past his sides, sending a chill down Harry's spine, but the fire-making spell managed to protect him from the brunt of it.
"Immobulus." That one actually hit him, and caused Harry to stand stock still with his wand arm in front of him while he waited for Daphne to release him. "Bloody hell. I know you're out of practice and all, but this is ridiculous."
"I may be a little rusty, yes," Harry managed to admit, since Immobulus didn't stop him from talking. "Haven't really done magic since the schoolyear ended."
"That's what I thought."
"Thought you weren't gonna make me beg since we both knew who was in charge?" Harry asked, still unable to move.
"Maybe I like watching you squirm."
"Well, maybe I enjoy squirming," Harry countered. Then he shut his mouth after realizing how stupid that sounded.
Daphne sighed softly. "And just like that, the moment's gone. Finite Incantatem. You are such a dork sometimes."
Agency returned to Harry's limbs, and he indulged his urge to stretch them after they'd been stuck in place for half a minute.
"I know. It's weird," Harry said. "I'm usually not."
"Doesn't mean much coming from you," Daphne teased.
They continued for a few more bouts before Harry called for a time out, noticing it was nearly noon. "Lunch?" he asked.
Daphne looked at the sky thoughtfully. "One more round, then we can eat and continue later when Isabela arrives."
She put herself back into a ready stance. Harry did the same despite mild exhaustion.
"Ferula!" Harry incanted, conjuring bandages to constrict his opponent.
"Diffindo." Daphne countered by cutting the bandages apart. "Immobulus."
Harry spun out of the spell's way, making sure he landed with both feet firmly on the ground. "Serpensortia! Engorgio!"
A constrictor blasted out of his wand before rapidly growing in size, but Daphne had seen this trick a dozen times over the year at least, and turned the conjured snake into an ice sculpture with Glacius.
"Immobulus!" Harry incanted before Daphne could retaliate, but she dodged the wave of energy with just the smallest step to her left before retaliating with the Knockback Jinx. Harry managed to slash it apart before it made contact.
Exhaustion hounded his every step. He hadn't used so much magic in a month. "Aguamenti!"
A torrent of water blew out of his wand, straight at Daphne. It seemed to catch her off guard because for just a fraction of a moment, she didn't seem to know how to react. Eventually, she incanted "Glacius!" to freeze the water in place.
It didn't work. The water simply continued pushing into the frost wave, causing a wall of ice to violently slam into Daphne and send her flying towards the stone seats.
"Shit!" Harry cried out as he ran up to her. He had Wiggenweld in his trunk, of course, so he could always heal her as long as it wasn't anything too bad. He knelt down next to her. "I'm so sorry, I-"
"F-f-flipendo."
Harry had no time to react as the point blank Knockback Jinx sent him sprawling towards the opposite stone seats. He somehow managed to land butt-first on it, eliciting a loud yelp.
"Im-m-mobulus." He hadn't had time to dodge that one, either, so Harry lay very still on the stone seat while Daphne slowly got up, visibly shivering, and sat down next to him.
"I said I was sorry," Harry protested.
"D-d-don't t-think this makes us even," she told him. "I'm f-f-freezing."
Even as she said that, Daphne quickly cast a Hot-Air Charm on herself to both dry herself off and get rid of the cold. Thought apparently it wasn't enough, because she scooted closer presumably to both leech some warmth off him and let him feel how cold she actually was. He was suddenly once again very aware of how much of Daphne's skin was bare in her tank top.
"Why the h-hell can you cast Aguamenti of all things?" she questioned. "They don't teach that until N.E.W.T.s."
"My wand shot water out when I got it," Harry explained. He didn't feel like arguing about being punished since he felt bad for knocking her down so hard. "Figured I'd try it."
"What on e-earth is your wand's core? A mermaid heartstring?"
"Close. Kelpie Hair. Ollivander's usual wands didn't match up with me."
"Even the w-wandmaker thinks you're a w-weirdo," she quipped, though the shivering made it lack any bite.
"You're not going to leave me like this until the afternoon, are you?" Harry asked.
"M-maybe I will," Daphne said. "S-show you who's boss."
"I'm pretty sure we both know that's you, Professor Greengrass."
"D-damn right, Mister Potter."
She eventually did release him from the spell, and then the two of them joined the rest of House Greengrass for lunch.
Chapter Text
After eating lunch with Victoria and Clarence, Harry and Daphne made their way back to the nearby drawing room where they'd decided to rest until their instructor arrived. Nyx had rejoined them for lunch (despite not needing to eat) before buzzing off again afterwards.
Daphne took the couch opposite him that time.
"Say, Daph," Harry began, then decided to switch to Parseltongue. "What do you know of Siriusss Black?"
"Sssupposedly a loyal ssservant of the Dark Lord, and your Godfather. He'd theoretically be Lord of the vacant Houssse Black if he wasssn't a criminal on the run. Why?"
Harry nodded. It went without saying Daphne knew he'd escaped. Everyone who had access to the Prophet probably already did.
"I wasss with Theodore the day before yesssterday and he told me Black was no friend of the Dark Lord'sss," Harry hissed.
"I did find it odd," Daphne admitted. "That sssuch a clossse friend of the Pottersss who'd been essstranged from hisss family would ever turn to the Dark Lord'sss side."
"Essstranged?" Harry asked.
Daphne nodded. "Houssse Black was predominantly Ssslytherin. Draco'sss mother, Narcissa, and Bellatrix Lessstrange, one of the Dark Lord's strongessst, were among their number. Black wasss a Gryffindor."
"Perhapsss he tried to win back his family'sss respect?" Harry suggested, though he doubted it.
"Maybe, but if Theo'sss info is right, it seemsss not."
"There'sss more," Harry said. "While we were out buying booksss, we nearly witnessed a copycat killing."
"In Knockturn?" Daphne asked. Naturally, she hadn't needed to ask what kind of books Theo and Harry would be shopping for before it was time to get their school books. "Weird coincidence, that it happened near you, don't you think? What makesss you so sssure it wasn't the actual Black?"
"Didn't make senssse," Harry said. "He'd jussst gotten out of Azkaban. He'd be laying low, mossst likely."
"He might jussst be insane," Daphne reminded him.
"Becaussse of Azkaban, you mean?"
"No," Daphne said with a smirk before switching back to English. "Because he's a Gryffindor."
That earned her a chuckle from him. "By the way, do you think you could come with me to visit John or Johanna tomorrow?"
"Already?" she asked, tone indignant.
"I've got a few ideas," Harry admitted. "I needed to fill my time with the Dursleys somehow."
"Fine. I need to go inform the shop about our new arrangement, anyway."
Harry was about to say something that sounded clever when they heard a pop, and one of the Greengrass House Elves appeared, prostrated before them wearing what looked like a towel made to resemble a toga.
"Pardon Queek's intrusion, Miss Daphne, Mister Potter, but Miss Isabela has arrived," it spoke.
"Thank you, Queek. Tell her we'll be right down," Daphne said.
The House Elf named Queek nodded and disappeared with a loud pop to do his mistress' bidding.
"Shall we?" she asked.
"Of course."
"And Harry?"
"Yes?"
"Keep your wand ready."
The afternoon sun shined a little brighter than Harry would've liked, but he nonetheless accompanied Daphne back down to the amphitheatre.
He was surprised to see no sign of their tutor. Suddenly, he spotted Daphne adopting a dueling stance and his body moved to match her before she whirled in place and seemingly dove towards him.
Harry gingerly stepped to the side and watched as Daphne parried a spell that would've hit him if he hadn't moved.
"Good afternoon, Isabela," Daphne called out, though from the way she shifted her eyes side to side, Harry guessed she didn't know for sure where their tutor was, either.
Harry could cast Revelio, and he was confident Daphne could, too, but the problem with that spell was you had to know where to aim it first, and the wide space they were in didn't help, nor did the fact that their opponent was casting wordlessly.
Harry's eyes scanned the earth in the center of the amphitheatre but saw no signs of erosion. Isabela was either on one of the stone seats or she moved carefully enough not to disturb the ground.
"Cover me," Harry hissed in Parseltongue before brandishing his wand. He willed the spell to produce as many of as small as it could possibly make. "Avis!"
A swarm of what looked like humming birds practically erupted from Harry's wand. Just as his spell finished, Daphne slashed a second enemy spell directed at him, like he'd predicted.
The army of birds flew outwards in a circle, but they didn't collide with anything. Wherever Isabela was, she wasn't in the surrounding seats, and she wasn't in the middle with them. Unless-
"Ice," Harry hissed. "Upwards."
"Alright," Daphne answered. "If you let her hit me, you're going to be a ssstatue for an hour."
Harry nodded.
Daphne began the wand movement for her favorite offensive spell before sharply pivoting her wand upwards. "Glacius!"
A blast of frigid air shot above them, seemingly hitting nothing until a semicircle of frost appeared several feet up.
"Revelio!" Harry incanted, and the concealment effect vanished, revealing a woman sitting on a broom inside some kind of globe-shaped shielding spell.
Harry was about to grin but stopped when he realized his spell had also revealed several red sparks angrily held in place next to her. The woman smiled, said "Finite Incantatem," and the Stunners rained down upon them like red lightning from the heavens.
Harry came to shortly after, judging by how the sun was still annoyingly bright. The first thing he saw was Daphne, whose wand had been pointed at him. The second was the woman he presumed to be Isabela Dubois standing behind her. She wore a mostly-red ensemble consisting of a cloak, robes, and a fedora with a single black line around it. Shoulder-length black hair spilled out from her hat, and her bronzed, angular face wore a most amused grin indeed.
"Thank you," Harry told Daphne, who'd clearly been the one to wake him.
"You thought she'd let you reveal her just like that?" she asked.
"I expected some kind of retaliation," Harry admitted with some sheepishness. "But that was a bit much."
"Right. You've never met Isabela before," Daphne seemed to mostly say to herself. "Well, a single Protego would've stopped that. She had to cast those Stunners at a fraction of their power to keep that many suspended for so long, you know."
"Now, now, Daphne. Don't be giving away all my tricks on the first day," Isabela said. Harry found her accent a little unusual. Some parts sounded French, but the others he wasn't so sure of.
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Dubois," Harry said as he stood back up.
Just checking, Nyx chimed into his mind. She was nowhere to be seen, still. You were supposed to get knocked out, right? You're not in any real danger?
Harry sighed inwardly. No, Nyx. I'm fine. Thank you for checking.
Good. Call me when we're going home. Or for snacks.
Harry shook his head. "That was quite a move you pulled."
"That was inspired by you, actually, Heir Potter," she told him. "Daphne's told me about your little dueling practices."
Right. Of course it had been. Shooting a dozen weak Stunners all at once to catch someone off guard had "Harry" written all over it.
"Merlin, I hope she hasn't convinced you I'm some kind of dueling genius," Harry grumbled. "I have zero formal training."
"Oui, I have heard," she said, the smug smirk never fading from her face. "I was impressed with your teamwork. It's clever, using Parseltongue to obscure your game plan."
"Speaking of obfuscation, were you using an Invisibility Cloak or-"
"Disillusionment Charm," she answered. "When you have graduated from school, you will find that Invisibility Cloaks, save perhaps for the one true Cloak of Invisibility if it exists, are mere toys. Although, from what Daphne tells me, you make use of toys quite well. Repelled a Basilisk with two Bludgers, I believe?"
"Er, yes," Harry said. It sounded a bit embarrassing when she put it that way. "I take it you'll ask me to refrain from using such tactics during our lessons, Miss Dubois?"
Isabela snickered. "Call me Isabela. I find such formal address, eh, what is the word?"
"Chaffing?" Daphne offered.
"Oui. That." She smiled. "Merci."
"Then please call me Harry."
"Well, Harry, to answer, non, I will not forbid such ploys," she said. "But I will caution you against over-reliance on them. I am sure a clever boy like yourself would know this, but the element of surprise is only effective until the enemy starts expecting you to do, how do you say? Stupid shit, at which point it simply becomes stupid shit instead of a clever gambit."
"Of course," Harry answered. It made perfect sense.
"Then, for the rest of the afternoon, I would like to see how you perform against my best student," Isabela said.
"Well, I suppose I could show him a thing or two-" Daphne began.
"I was talking about myself," Isabela told her smugly.
Isabela dueled both of them for the entirety of the afternoon, though 'dueled' seemed a generous term for how she utterly stomped them into the ground. Nearing three hours into their lesson, Harry felt like his body had turned to steel from how heavy it felt, though he had been hit by different immobilizing spells more than once. His blood felt like it was on fire, too.
Amelia had been right about her gift, at least: The body armor cushioned him from physical blows, but it did very little against a serious witch.
"I think this is a good place to stop for today," their instructor told them.
Harry didn't argue, sure that his body would feel sore in the morning no matter how many Wiggenwelds he drank before bed. Besides, the sun was going down.
Daphne didn't look much better, considering she'd been training under Isabela much longer than him. The pair murmured their thanks, one of the rare instances when Daphne couldn't be bothered about putting on appearances, and limped back to the castle in companionable silence. Harry almost jinxed Nyx when she came back and started laughing at his battered condition.
"Tell me if you've got any bright ideas," Daphne murmured as she walked Harry to the Floo connection that would bring him home.
"Will do," Harry said. He glanced at his companion. "You don't have to walk me all the way back, you know. I know the way."
"It'll look bad on me if you drop dead before you get home," Daphne quipped.
"And what am I supposed to do if you drop dead taking me here?" Harry shot back.
They stopped as they reached the fireplace that clearly only served as a way to travel to and from the castle rather than as an actual hearth. Harry glanced at Daphne before saying, "Say, you know how I said I wanted to go see Johanna or John tomorrow?"
Daphne quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Maybe we can do that another day," Harry said. "Don't want to be limping around in Diagon Alley if I can help it."
"We can Floo straight there from here, you know," she told him.
Harry's mouth opened and then closed without making any sound. Right. Of course the owners of the workshop would have a means to travel there directly from their manor. It was probably one of only a few places you could Floo there from besides the Carriage outlets.
Daphne sighed. "You are hopeless sometimes. What would you do without me?"
"I'd probably be giving Theo headaches instead of you. Ow!" he cried out, as Daphne elbowed his right arm.
"Go home, Harry, you're clearly tired."
"I'm going, I'm going!" he said as he took a pinch of Floo Powder. He hesitated once more before he dropped the green substance. "Um, good night."
"Good night," she answered back, smiling despite her fatigue.
And then Harry yelled 'Bones Manor' and found himself home just in time for dinner.
Despite his physical exhaustion, Harry found himself in high spirits. Amelia had somehow managed to get away from work long enough to come home, but the news she brought with her killed the mood a little bit.
"Dementors?" Willow squeaked. "In Hogwarts?"
Amelia nodded gravely. "It's out of my hands. Fudge suspects Sirius Black is targeting the two of you, so he wants the dementors guarding the entrances."
"Because the dementors worked oh so well when he was escaping," Harry drawled.
He'd have to get word to his friends before the school year started, to make sure they didn't get caught unawares.
"Exactly!" Amelia said, sounding exasperated. "I told him it would be useless, but he- well, he has his own worries."
"Like what?" Willow asked.
Harry, however, kept his guess to himself. Fudge was probably concerned he'd look weak if he didn't do something drastic in response to Black's escape, even if the thing he did might cause more harm than good.
"He's the Minister, not me," Amelia said as if it was an explanation. "You're better off asking him."
"What House was Fudge in?" Harry asked.
"Hufflepuff," Amelia answered. "Why?"
"Just curious," Harry answered. "So, what should we know about these Dementors?"
He had read about them, naturally. They'd come up when he'd been trying to figure out what Slytherin's Monster was, but he knew it'd look more suspicious than anything if a third year Hogwarts student knew-
"They're among the Darkest of creatures," Willow said. "They feed on happiness. As you already know, the Ministry uses them to guard Azkaban. Frighteningly effective at what they do, Dementors are. It's almost impossible to harm them."
Amelia sighed. "If I didn't spend a decade with you under my roof, I'd ask why you knew all of that, but alas."
"Hey, not even I would want a pet dementor," Willow said defensively.
"So, how do you keep them in check, if they're so powerful?" Harry asked.
He'd heard of the Patronus Charm, too, but there was a good chance they'd give him more info if he acted otherwise.
"There's a charm," Amelia said, "Called the Patronus. In a perfect world, I'd be able to teach you both just in case you ever need it, but, well," she trailed off.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"The spell is difficult," Amelia answered. "Many grownup magicals are unable to use the spell at all, especially in the moments they'd need them."
"I'd be willing to give it a shot," Harry said. "What've I got to lose?"
"Me, too," Willow chimed in. "There's no telling if the Dementors will behave themselves."
"And me, Auntie," Susan added. She'd been quiet the whole conversation.
"Fine," she said. "I'll teach you the incantation and the wand movement after dinner, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Harry blinked. He hadn't expected her to agree.
An hour and a half after supper, the three Hogwarts students were lined up on one side of Amelia's study opposite Amelia herself. They all had their wands out. Harry kept his face impassive, but he shared Susan and Willow's excitement.
"You sure about this?" Harry asked. "I thought we weren't supposed to use magic outside school."
"Harry!" Willow hissed as if to say 'Don't ruin this for me.'
Amelia snorted. "If any of you can actually produce a Patronus strong enough to set off the Trace, I'll clean your records myself and blame it on Fudge for bringing Dementors into Hogwarts. Now, the wand movement is like this."
Amelia drew her wand in a loose circle. Simple enough, Harry thought, so the difficulty wasn't there.
"The incantaion," she continued, "is Expecto Patronum. Try it."
"Expecto Patronum."
"Expecto Patronum!"
Harry watched with barely concealed smugness as Susan and Willow made their attempts while he just watched. Naturally, nothing came of them.
"Right. There's more to it, I'm guessing." Harry said. "So, what aren't you saying? Is there a certain intent required behind the spell?" He didn't mention he'd been thinking of the Killing Curse and how it required the intent to kill.
"Willow was right," Amelia said. "You are too clever for your own good."
"Oh, very well," he conceded. "Expecto Patronum."
Nothing, of course.
"As your brother has surmised," Amelia said with some amusement. "There is one final component of the Patronus Charm, but it's not intent, no. The Charm requires a happy memory."
"Seriously?" Harry asked. "We have to produce a happy memory while facing the things that literally eat happy memories?"
"I did say it was difficult for most," Amelia reminded him. "Even then, most of the people who can cast the spell can only produce an incorporeal Patronus, which wards the Dementors off, but not very well."
"And you?"
Amelia smiled. "Expecto Patronum."
A white light shot out of her wand, so bright that Harry recoiled from it. When he finally adjusted to the brigthness, he found its form rather tiny. Perched on Amelia's shoulder was some kind of small reptile with a smooth, round head, and even rounder eyes.
"It's not officially a requirement for being an Auror," Amelia explained. "But your chances of getting into the program are a lot better if you can produce a corporeal Patronus. Azkaban needs to be supervised, after all."
"Your Patronus is a gecko?" Willow questioned.
Amelia smirked in apparent amusement. "It's rare for you to misrecognize a magical creature. It's a fire-dwelling salamander."
Harry had read a little bit about Patronuses, of course, and that was why he glanced at Amelia, then at Willow, seeing the unspoken message there.
"Why do you look so pleased?" Willow asked him.
"Oh, I just think it's brilliant," Harry said.
"The light of your Patronus will ward off the Dementors' influence," Amelia explained, though Harry knew that already. "But take care, as not even a corporeal Patronus like this one will stave them off forever, especially not in large numbers."
"Do we have permission to keep practicing until we can pull it off?" Harry questioned.
"Nice try, Harry. You only have permission to practice the Patronus Charm until you can pull it off. I'd ask you to kindly refrain from trying out any other new spells until you return to Hogwarts, but I'm sure you'll find ways."
"Amelia," Harry said with an air of feigned hurt. "What are you insinuating?"
"I neglected to bring it up on account of how you arrived here last summer, but don't think I haven't noticed your fairy going with you to Hogwarts when you said you'd leave her here."
Harry smirked. "Guilty as charged."
"Like sister, like brother," Amelia said with a soft sigh. "Anyway, feel free to keep trying to produce Patronuses. It's a good idea, considering what's coming, though I remind you not to get your hopes up. The spell is beyond the scope of what Hogwarts teaches, so there's no shame in not being able to perform it, especially at your age. Just stay as far away from the Dementors as possible. Give them no reason to approach you. Aurors will be present to keep them in check. Run to them when you inevitably manage to draw the Dementors' attention."
She spoke that last part with an air of resignation. Harry could scarcely blame her. It seemed none of their seven years in Hogwarts would pass without incident, and if he had to guess, the Dark Lord would return to power shortly before they graduated. Sixth year, perhaps. Seventh, hopefully.
"Is there a way for us to contact these Aurors in case of emergency?" Harry asked.
Amelia looked at him as if scrutinizing whether he was scheming or genuinely just asking for a way to call for help. "I hadn't thought of that," she said, probably lying. Harry didn't think Aurors would rely on owls for emergencies. He remembered how quickly she'd managed to deploy auror Sara Mustafa during the Dobby Incident the previous summer. "I'll consider it."
"Thank you," he said, meaning it. She had no reason to divulge what were possibly state secrets to him and his sister, but if the DMLE really did have a way to communicate faster than owls allowed, he wanted a peek at their secrets.
"Expecto Patronum," Harry spoke half-heartedly in the amphitheater of Greengrass garden. No flash of light came from his wand, let alone a corporeal animal of any sort. It seemed he'd found a spell he truly could not cast. A week had passed since Amelia had shown him how.
"What were you thinking about?" Daphne asked. He'd informed all his friends by owl that they should read up on the Patronus Charm over the summer. Only Neville had replied asking why, though he suspected Hermione just went with it because it provided a new topic for research.
"The first time I flew," Harry answered.
Daphne didn't look pleased. She hadn't been able to produce a patronus, corporeal or not, either. "It bothers me how vague the idea of 'a happy memory' is. Who decides what kind of memory is good enough?"
"The same person who decided that saying 'Wingardium Leviosa' with that exact intonation and wand movement would cause objects to float," Harry quipped.
"So, what? Some kind of god?" Daphne asked in a playful tone. "I didn't take you to be religious."
"You forget," Harry answered. "Something like a god has reached into my dreams."
He floated the Key out of his shirt for emphasis.
"Even Isabela says it's just silver," Daphne reminded him. He'd asked her to take a look at the Key two days prior.
"But even she can't say how I'm making it move," Harry answered.
"Have you tried moving other pieces of silver?" Daphne asked.
Harry nodded. "I tried with Sickles, and a pound of pure silver from the ingredients shop in Diagon Alley. Nothing."
"Then maybe you should tell your friend it should let you cast a Patronus with an easier memory," Daphne suggested.
Harry snorted. "If I ever see the Observer again, I'll ask."
Isabela arrived shortly after, and she put the both of them through hell like she did every day.
Notes:
And now you see why I warned we were a long way from Hogwarts.
How's it going? I felt like a lot of this was necessary but I hope it's not boring, at least.
Chapter 8: Schemes, Consquences
Chapter Text
"Harry," Johanna began in her thick accent, "I am not sure this is a trunk."
Harry glanced over the rough sketch he'd made (he was not a very good artist) of the 'trunk' he wanted to commission, but even he had to admit he wasn't sure it was a trunk, exactly. It was based on the little robot he'd seen in the hobby shop, after all.
He'd taken the day off from dueling practice to visit the Workshop with Daphne so she could explain House Greengrass' arrangement with him. After exchanging brief greetings with the other two enchanters, Marick and David, Johanna rushed them off to her part of the building to talk shop.
"How do you mean?" Harry asked.
"For one, it has wheels," Johanna answered flatly. "And for another, it has sharp, metal teeth. And this is not even talking about all the things you want in the 'compartments.'"
"Well, the wheels are for mobility," Harry answered in a sheepish tone. "And the teeth are decorative."
"Hardly," Johanna said. "They will be made of metal like the rest of it. This 'trunk' could bite a man's head off."
"Oh, for Melin's sake!" Daphne cried out. "Harry, stop playing dumb, you know this isn't actually a trunk, and Johanna, don't pretend this bothers you. We both know about your little hobby."
"Hobby?" Harry asked, equal parts curiosity and to deflect her accusation.
Daphne didn't speak, instead eyeing Johanna, who sighed.
"I like to enchant vehicles," she explained. "Is not illegal because I mostly keep it to older things like chariot or vintage automobile."
"Except for when it is illegal and she needs my cousin's law firm to bail her out," Daphne added.
Johanna grinned. "In my defense, that wasn't me. That was John."
"Unfortunately, the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office happens to recognize the two of you as the same person," Daphne reminded her. "Now, can you do Harry's request or not?"
"Da, I can do it," she answered. "Walk me through what you need it to do and we will see what can be done. These little drawings not helping very much."
Justin
He knocked the arrow back, feeling the bowstring go taut as it went as far as he could pull.
It was fine. He hadn't meant to kill Mister Newbourne - only scare him a bit. It had been in self-defense. Newbourne had been about to Avada him for Christ's sake! But what if the Wizengamot ruled against him? What if they ruled in favor of the now-headless Pureblood family?
He fired. The shot went wide and hit the stone wall of Finch-Fletchley Manor. Justin sighed, took a second arrow out of his quiver, and knocked it back again.
It would be fine. He'd called it in as soon as he could. His family had considerable connections. She'd be able to fix it.
The breath he'd been holding escaped as he released the arrow. It flew through the air and managed to hit the bullseye roughly fifty meters away.
"Nice shot," a woman's voice spoke from behind him, causing Justin to jump and call for his Familiar, though he had the sense not to command Dioscuria to murder someone on reflex.
He turned and saw a woman in a prim, black suit buttoned halfway over a white undershirt. She had olive skin and dark hair that didn't reach her shoulders. This was Sara Mustafa, an auror who traded favors with the Finch-Fletchley family every so often. It was her he'd called after the unfortunate incident with Mister Newbourne.
"Merlin, Sara, you scared me," Justin said.
"Good," Sara answered. "Because you've given me quite a headache."
"Is it that bad?" he asked.
"Why'd you have to kill him? Why Henry Newbourne? A few Muggles I could sweep, maybe a Muggleborn or two, but the head of a Pureblood Slytherin family? Lucius Malfoy is breathing down our necks!" She sighed. "It's hilarious in a way, as he'd never associated with the Newbournes before now."
"Mister Newbourne was bad for business," Justin answered.
"And you couldn't think of a better way to fix that without lethal force?" she snapped.
"I was just going to scare him and wring him dry, but then he tried to kill me," Justin countered.
"You overpowered a grown wizard?" Sara asked dryly. "With what army?"
"With this one. Dios, come."
The shadow in the corner of the yard seemed to come alive as a large, four-legged animal stepped out of the dark and into view. 'A thing out of his nightmares,' Newbourne had called it.
Sara regarded it with curious eyes. Justin had never found out for sure whether she'd been Ravenclaw or Slytherin. "Your Familiar?"
"Indeed."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I didn't even notice it."
"His Essence Binding was very expensive," Justin answered.
"What actually happened when you were meeting with Newbourne?" Sara asked.
Justin explained the events as they'd transpired, knowing trying to trick Sara would bite him in the ass eventually if he tried.
"It took a Stunner like it was nothing? Really?" she questioned.
"Really."
"A Dementor? No, that's stupid. You'd never be able to stand being in its presence."
Justin smiled. He liked Sara. She was one of the clever ones.
"A Lethifold, then," Sara said, as if there was no question she'd guessed correctly.
"Yes, in part," Justin said. "Doesn't explain their strength, or their speed."
She gave him a look that told him to stop playing coy. "I thought the Essence Binding Ritual could only be performed once?"
"That is correct," Justin answered.
"You found a way to circumvent it?" Sara mused. "That would be juicy information to have."
"Is that what you're asking for to make this problem with the Auror Office go away?" Justin asked sweetly.
He was ninety percent sure she was a Ravenclaw from how she practically salivated at the offer of new knowledge.
"No," Sara said, though it sounded painful to deny her curiosity. "I can figure that out on my own eventually."
"So, what will it take?"
"Well, I've just learned there's more to you than meets the eye, Justin," Sara told him.
"How rude. I consider myself quite handsome."
"Tell you what. For now, let's just say you owe me a few favors, and we'll leave it at that."
"You're going to pin it on Black, then?"
"Why else would I ask you to make it look like the body had blown up?" she asked flatly.
"Point."
"Bones won't like it, but I haven't got much to work with here," she said. She paused, and then added, "You remind me of another clever boy I met last summer."
"Oh, I just ask myself 'What would my friend do?'"
"Is this friend a Ravenclaw?" Sara asked.
"A Slytherin," Justin said. "But one of the cleverest I've seen. I'm sure he's figured out how to work the Essence Binding to the fullest himself by now."
Harry
"Expecto Patronum," Harry spoke for what felt like the hundredth time since Amelia had shown him the spell.
What were you thinking about? Nyx asked. She'd been watching him from a shelf. He'd asked Daphne if he could perform the Essence Binding Ritual on Nyx at her place instead of Amelia's because Rituals involving Familiars toed the line between legal and not-quite-legal.
She'd graciously granted him access to a barely-used potions laboratory within Greengrass Manor.
The memory from the Mirror of Erised, Harry answered. The one where my friends and I run the country and Malfoy is my personal manservant.
Have you tried thinking about me? Nyx asked. I graciously extended you the joy of my continued company, after all.
Oh, that's a great idea, Harry said. He wondered how well sarcasm translated in their mental link. Despite starting out as a joke, he decided it was worth a shot, so he tried to bring up his memories of finding Nyx in the Magical Menagerie, of how she'd been a constant companion in his life, even when he was stuck in Privet Drive, how she'd done her best to help him despite her small size and limited power.
You didn't have to say 'limited power,' Nyx protested, but Harry ignored her.
"Expecto Patronum."
The thinnest, least visible wisp of light flowed from his wand, so difficult to see he could've imagined it. Harry stared at his wand first, then at Nyx. He grinned. "I did it! It's weak, but I did it!"
Why did you ever doubt me? Nyx asked, shaking her head.
Harry ignored her and tried again. "Expecto Patronum!"
The wisp of light didn't grow in size. It was great he'd finally managed to cast it, but he doubted it would hold off even one Dementor for more than a second.
"Well, it was worth a shot," Harry spoke, sounding dejected. "I guess it's still not good enough."
Have you tried thinking about Daphne? Nyx asked.
I just tried that, Harry answered. The memory of my friends isn't good enough.
I don't mean your friends, Harry, Nyx answered. I mean Daphne. Don't look at me like that. I've seen the look on your face when you're around her.
Harry felt his face heat up. I- I'm just happy to be learning new things with a trusted friend and ally. I joke around with my friends all the time.
You mean your weird half-flirt, half-jokes with Theo, Blaise, and Tracey? Nyx communicated. How come I've never seen you try that with Daphne?
I just don't think she'd be interested, Harry answered.
Interested in joking around or in you? Nyx questioned.
Harry didn't answer. It was true Daphne was very pretty and they'd been spending a lot of time together, but it was also kind of wrong, wasn't it? She felt like she owed him, and he didn't want her to go with it just because of that, and he didn't know the first thing about dating, and-
Oh, for Oberon and Titania's sakes! Nyx's thoughts interrupted his. Just try it!
"Fine, fine!" Harry answered. "I'll try it, then you'll see you're just seeing things that aren't there."
Harry thought about Daphne's sapphire blue eyes, the way the light bounced off her blond hair, the smirk she had on all the time. He thought of her in her training attire, her toned arms, the way she parried spells better than anyone else in his circle. He remembered when she'd shown him the castle the first time, when they'd walked arm in arm like they were on a romantic stroll.
"Expecto Patronum."
A brilliant, white tendril of light shot out of Harry's wand, not nearly as bright as Amelia's Salamander, but brighter than any artificial light Harry had ever seen. It was only when the Patronus refused to dissipate that Harry realized he wasn't staring at a wisp of smoke or white mist.
A bright, white tentacle protruded from his wand. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He'd seen Amelia's Patronus. It hadn't stayed connected to her wand, and it had been the replica of a full animal, no matter how small it was.
The tentacle looked like it hadn't managed to completely pull itself through. Curious, Harry mentally ordered the tentacle to move. It did so, following the path his mind traced through the air to perfection.
"A giant squid?" Harry thought aloud. "Or an octopus? But why would my Patronus be a-"
On cue, the tentacle curved upwards, like it was facing him. Harry noticed the suction cups looked a little off, and as if to answer, one of them opened up, revealing a translucent eye. The rest followed, and Harry found himself staring at an alien limb with far too many eyes in places eyes weren't supposed to go.
A normal person would've dropped his wand or at least cancelled the spell. Harry, instead, looked right into one of the eyes, and found something familiar: A pupil shaped like a keyhole, just like the scar on his forehead.
The eyes closed as one, and the tentacle dissipated, leaving no trace it had ever been there.
Nyx, you saw that, right? Harry asked.
Saw what?
My Patronus, it's-
A wisp of smoke, I know, Nyx answered. I wasn't a good enough memory. You don't have to rub it in, Harry.
No, it was a - a thing!
Nyx laughed in her lilting voice. Relax, Harry, I'm joking. I saw it, too. I don't see what you're upset about.
It's supposed to be an animal, Harry answered, pushing his face into his palm.
And?
That wasn't any animal I've ever seen, Harry communicated back. Why are you so calm about this?
I used to freak out over unknown animals all the time, Nyx responded. But you kept summoning and reshaping them, so I got used to it.
This is different. That wasn't an animal that exists on this world, Harry insisted.
That you know of, Nyx reminded him. Who's to say there isn't something like that living in the depths of the sea? Or beneath the ground? Or beyond the sky?
Harry considered. He hadn't thought of that. It could have just been some weird animal. That didn't explain how he'd only summoned a tentacle instead of the whole thing. But what was really eating him was:
I'm a little bothered that thinking about Daph conjured a Patronus like that, he admitted.
Nyx stared at him with a blank expression. I sincerely doubt that had anything to do with Daphne. In fact, she'd probably be insulted to hear you say that.
But-
Look, we didn't come down here to practice your spell, Nyx reminded him. Just do the Ritual thingy you said we were going to do and you can think about this later.
R-right, Harry answered. He brought out his trunk, unshrunk it, and rifled through his book collection until he found Getting Even More Familiar with Your Familiar, the second level book for working with Familiars.
He opened it up to where he'd bookmarked the Ritual of Essence Binding he'd found months before and double checked the instructions. The name honestly wasn't apt. All it involved was drawing two circles using chalk, one of which went around the Familiar and the other around the object that would be sacrificed to imbue some of its properties into the Familiar.
Harry instructed Nyx to sit in her circle and then rooted through his trunk's secret compartment for the object: the Basilisk Fang he'd used to stab Riddle's Diary.
He honestly wasn't sure what sort of effect it would have on her, as the effects of objects apparently varied from familiar to familiar based on their species, and it wasn't like someone had managed to extensively test each and every species with each and every object. The book had claimed that components from more dangerous creatures gave stronger results, but that was it, and Harry was hard-pressed to think of something rarer or more dangerous than the Monster who'd terrorized Hogwarts the previous year.
Well, a Dementor, perhaps, but he didn't fancy the idea of Nyx turning into something that ate emotions, and he had no idea how he'd even start getting a component from something that was supposedly invincible except for the Patronus Charm.
Hurry up, will you? Nyx communicated.
"Right. Sorry." He placed the Basilisk Fang into the other circle and turned back to the book, rereading the incantation (if you could call it that) silently to make sure he didn't trip up on actually saying it.
"Material, born of plant or beast, you will temper one who sits upon the Throne."
The circle around the Basilisk Fang flared bright red.
"Bound one, you who have given your essence and now sit upon the throne, shall be the foundation."
Nyx's circled flared a deep blue.
"From something that truly lived to you who live on as a shadow of life, a joining shall be performed."
The Basilisk Fang glowed bright white, and then seemingly began to crumble to luminescent powder that swirled within its circle.
"What once truly lived shall strengthen that which does not, so shall it be until our contract is ended."
The glowing particles flew to Nyx's circle and swirled about, slowly coating her form in their splendor. Nyx, who'd been doing her best to act calm, suddenly cried out, not in his mind, but with her mouth.
"Harry! Sssomething is-" she began, but she couldn't utter another word as a black liquid poured out of her mouth.
"Nyx!" Harry cried out. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched her collapse to the floor. His hands dropped the tome, immediately searching his trunk for a solution. He ignored his potions, knowing Wiggenweld was useless against Basilisk Venom, and found the Bezoar he'd bought during a trip to Diagon in case of emergencies. He grabbed the circular stone, realized it was far too large for Nyx's mouth, and aimed a Diffindo at it. A small chunk flew off. Harry scrambled to grab it, and shoved it into Nyx's mouth, black liquid be damned.
"Nyx! Nyx!" he yelled as he watched her form go limp.
Seconds turned into half a minute. Nyx did not move.
"Nyx! Answer me!"
Tell me you're kidding right now, Harry demanded.
Only the silence of the empty laboratory answered him. And then, a moment later, Harry doubled over as he lost his lunch.
Chapter 9: Baka Mitai
Notes:
I wasn't gonna leave it there. I'm not a monster.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Daphne found him crying alone in the laboratory and stayed with him until he could function again, though she had done herself the courtesy of having the House Elf Vanish away what Harry had thrown up. Harry didn't quite catch the Elf's name.
He'd looked through the book once more to see what he'd done wrong. He eventually managed to down a Wiggenweld and return to some semblance of being sane.
He could think of two things that could've caused Nyx's death, besides his own stupidity, of course: The incantation, though not the instructions, implied he'd been meant to use a material from something that had 'truly lived,' and had referred to the Familiar as something that lived on as 'a shadow of life.' In essence, he'd been supposed to use material from an actual living or dead creature, not a Familiar whose essence had been warped by the Familiar Binding Ritual.
Quetzal, the Basilisk who served as the Chamber's steward, had been Salazar Slytherin's Familiar for centuries. He didn't see what the difference was between a Familiar's fang and a non-Familiar's fang, and he presumed they'd work equally well as potion ingredients, but some branches of magic, based on Harry's reading, were very particular about abstract things like 'essence' and 'concepts.'
He'd seen a spell in a book on Eastern Magic simply dubbed a 'strengthening spell' despite how bloody vague its actual effects were, ranging from making a stick more durable to making a fire burn brighter and hotter, all based on what the object was in the first place.
The other, simpler, and in hindsight, more obvious reason he'd somehow killed Nyx was almost painful to think about: He'd stuck a bloody Basilisk Fang, carrier of one of the most potent venoms known to the magical community, into a five-inch Fairy.
Harry hated himself more than he'd ever hated the Dursleys. He might have done something to harm himself if he hadn't remembered Nyx wasn't gone forever. Familiars ceased to 'truly live' for a reason, after all, and Harry needed to be alive for him to bring her back.
"I'm really sorry about your loss, Harry," Daphne told him in as soft and gentle a voice as he'd ever heard from her. The two of them had yet to leave the laboratory despite how dark the sky had gotten. Harry didn't want the world to see him like this.
"I can't believe I was so stupid," he said.
"Well, you were," Daphne conceded.
"I- aren't you supposed to cheer me up?" Harry asked.
"Do you want me to put on an act?" Daphne asked.
"If Nyx were here, she'd tell me the two of us are acting stupid." He looked at her lifeless body, still in the little circle he'd drawn. He was glad he couldn't Vanish things yet, or he might've been tempted. She deserved a burial, even if he would be making her a new body.
"Well, just you, really," Daphne quipped. "You do know how to bring her back, yes?"
"Er, yes," Harry sputtered. "It was in the first book."
"Then do that instead of wallowing around?"
"I, er, can't," Harry admitted in a small voice.
"You can't?" Daphne repeated. "But you know how?"
Harry nodded.
Daphne heaved a sigh. "What do you need?"
"A potion," he answered. "Not exactly something you buy in stores, but for a Fairy, it's not exceedingly difficult to make."
"Hang on," Daphne said. "There's a Potion that could instantly bring her back to life, and you didn't have it on hand while you were attempting a potentially dangerous ritual?"
Harry winced. "I told you I was an idiot."
"I'm assuming it's difficult to prepare and has a short shelf life?" Daphne asked.
"No, just takes a while to make, but yes, only potent for a week or so before it expires," Harry answered.
Which didn't excuse why he hadn't prepared one in advance, but Daphne, surprisingly, was nice enough not to say it out loud, though they both knew she was thinking it.
"You're right. You're an idiot. I believe you," Daphne said. "But I am not leaving your side until I'm sure you're not going to hex yourself."
Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "I have to go home to sleep, you know."
"Tell Amelia Nyx had an accident and you want to stay over at a friend's until the morning."
"What? But it's not appropriate for-"
"It is absolutely fine for a House that owes a debt of gratitude to shelter you," Daphne snapped at him. "You can have the guest room next to mine. Queek can take dinner directly to you if you'd rather eat by yourself."
Harry wanted to argue, wanted to say she was putting in too much effort for an idiot like him, but in the end, he couldn't find the energy to.
He supposed he should've expected nothing less from a guest room in Greengrass Manor, but Harry was still rather impressed. The room Daphne lent him for the night was, like most of the other rooms in this castle, bigger than the dorm he shared with Theo and Blaise, complete with its own bathroom connected via a side door.
He'd probably have been more impressed if he hadn't inherited the bedroom in the Chamber of Secrets. He frowned when he realized he was waiting for Nyx to make some sort of snarky comment, but that he wouldn't hear her voice for about three weeks; two and a half with a little luck if he worked fast.
Someone knocked on the door. Queek the House Elf, if Harry guessed correctly. "Come in."
"Queek brings Mister Potter's dinner," the Elf said in a squeaky voice. Harry wondered if that's why he'd been named 'Queek.'
He wore what must've been a bed sheet fashioned into a toga, same as Harry had seen other House Elves wear. In fact, the only House Elf Harry had seen actually looking ragged had been Dobby. Hm. Dobby. Right. He needed to have a word with Dobby at some point.
"Thank you, Queek," Harry said.
"Queek's pleasure it was, yes, yes," the House Elf said with a bow as he set the tray on a provided table. "Miss Daphne wished to ask if you wanted to be alone or if you desired to 'bask in her presence.'"
Ah. He hadn't thought of that. He'd graciously accepted Daphne's offer to let him eat in the room since he didn't want to look so vulnerable before her parents, but- "Tell her I need some time to think. Thank you."
"Yes, yes, Queek will inform her." The House Elf curtsied before vanishing with a pop.
Harry dug carefully into his food, as fine as he'd ever had in Greengrass Manor. He wasn't sure if he could eat well after throwing up less than an hour before.
He'd have to start brewing the Potion here, since he doubted Amelia would appreciate a bubbling cauldron in her house for more than a few hours. The ingredients were simple enough, and Harry was confident enough in his brewing ability that-
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Er, Queek?"
"Wrong." The door slid open and Daphne slipped in, levitating a tray of partly-eaten food and two glass mugs with thick brown liquid behind her.
"Oh, um, hi," Harry sputtered. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting-"
"I figured you'd had enough time to think," Daphne said, smirking. "Though if you want me to go away, I'll-"
"No, no, I don't want you to go away ever," Harry said quickly. Then, realizing what he said, he looked away and tried to change the subject. "I- It's so quiet in our head."
"Our?"
"My head," Harry corrected. "Maybe being alone was the wrong decision."
"I thought as much," Daphne said as she sat down opposite him. Her tray and the two mugs landed gracefully on the table. "Butterbeer. It cheers most people up, but I prefer chocolate, usually."
"I've heard of it," Harry said as he reached for the mug, finding it surprisingly warm to the touch. "Is it, er, alcoholic? My stomach is kind of-"
"A little," Daphne said, taking a sip of her own mug as if to show it wasn't poisoned or anything. "If it comes back out, we can just have Queek Vanish it again."
"Are we allowed to-" Harry began, then saw Daphne wasn't following. "Er, on the muggle side of things, minors aren't allowed to drink alcohol."
"Well, we're supposed to drink responsibly," she said, seeming flabbergasted at hearing muggles had drinking laws. "But as long as we don't suddenly start doing magic while drunk, it's fine, even expected during certain events."
"Right, guess I'll-" Harry trailed off as he chugged back some of the warm beverage. It tasted better than any drink he'd ever had, surpassing soda by a landslide. Despite his earlier misgivings, he found himself gulping down half of the mug in one go. "This is brilliant."
Daphne grinned. "Glad you like it. Father makes sure we have a good stock when I'm home."
"What did I do to deserve this?" Harry asked, taking another sip.
"Well, you did save my life, I suppose," Daphne said with some amusement.
"Water under the bridge," Harry said.
"So, did you need any help with bringing Nyx back?" she asked.
"Er, I was actually hoping to brew it here. I don't think Amelia would appreciate it at her place."
"Give Queek the ingredient list," Daphne said. "He'll get what he can from our stores."
"What? No, you've done-"
"The sooner Nyx is back and you forgive yourself, the better." Her tone brooked no argument.
"I do not deserve you," Harry found himself saying before he could reconsider.
"That remains to be seen, Mister Potter," Daphne answered without hesitation.
Harry blinked. "Wait. No, I don't mean that way, I-"
"Oh, then what did you mean?"
"I just meant you're a great friend, and ally, and-"
"And?" Daphne asked, a slight edge in her voice.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, burying his face in his hands. "I'm a mess right now. I didn't think you went for guys like me."
"Really? So you've got my type pegged, do you?"
"No, no, I just mean you seemed, uh," Harry grasped for words. He hated how flustered he got with Daphne. He managed to talk to freaking Tom Riddle with a straight face but he melted like putty when he was with her. "I just thought you weren't interested in general."
Daphne's wand appeared in her hand in a flash of movement. "Because I'm a cold, unfeeling bitch, right?" she asked, her voice shaking.
He'd clearly hit a nerve.
She leveled her wand at him, her expression colder than he'd ever seen, and yet somehow also more vulnerable, like her icy mask had cracked in places. Daphne took a deep breath, then another. She brought her wand down and Harry raised his arms, knowing he'd never block it with his wand in time.
But the attack never came, instead he saw her retreat through the door, slamming it shut behind her, and somehow that hurt him more than any spell she could've sent at him.
'Nice job, Harry,' he imagined Nyx saying, but for the first time since he'd left Privet Drive - no, for the first time since he'd met Carter as a younger boy - he felt truly alone.
Notes:
I am, however, an asshole. See you next week.
Chapter 10: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side
Notes:
I *might* be really bad at sticking to a schedule.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hurting Daphne woke Harry like a splash of cold water. Rather, it felt like someone grabbed him and dumped his body in the antarctic ocean. He'd spent the night thinking of ways to apologize, but in the end, he settled for simplicity.
The entity known as Harry James Potter knocked on Daphne's door first thing in the morning, as deprived of sleep as he was, and refused to budge. He didn't keep knocking, only stood there until she finally opened the door ten minutes later.
She'd rebuilt her icy facade, and gazed at him with cold, cold eyes that would've chilled a Seventh Year, but Harry didn't look away. His green eyes stared back at her blue ones, and though they stood there for what felt like hours, in reality, it was three seconds.
"Good morning," Daphne spoke, though there was no kindness in it.
"I want, no, I need to apologize," Harry said. "May I come in?"
Normally, he would've expected her to quip something about how a young boy entering a young girl's room was inappropriate before telling him to go in, anyway, but that vibe between them was missing today.
"Must you?" Daphne asked. She looked as sleep-deprived as he felt.
"It doesn't have to be your room," Harry said. He hoped his enemies never saw him like this. "Somewhere private. Please."
Daphne seemed to weigh things silently in her mind before nodding. "Come in, then."
Harry realized he'd never been in her room before. The walls were painted sky blue and covered in cutouts from various fashion magazines. Harry recognized a few muggle actresses on the walls, as well, probably from the last present he'd sent her.
"I misunderstood you," Harry began. "And I hurt you."
"Please tell me something we don't both know," Daphne hissed, which was usually something she only did when speaking Parseltongue.
"And I've been trying to tell myself I'm not interested in you that way," Harry spoke with perfect clarity. "But I am."
Daphne didn't look impressed. "You're not just telling me what I want to hear? Because I'd rather not be lied to by a dense idiot who can't read the bloody room."
"I can prove it," Harry said. "But you're not going to like it."
"We do have veritaserum in the house somewhere, I suppose," Daphne offered, but Harry shook his head.
"You know as well as I do that I'm an Occlumens," Harry said. He paused, considered his words. "Right before the - the accident with Nyx, I managed to conjure a Patronus."
That actually got a reaction out of her, but it was still tinted with caution. "You found a memory?"
"Sort of," Harry admitted. "It wasn't really one time. I was, er, I was thinking about you."
"And you think I wouldn't like this because?"
"Well, Patronuses are sometimes shaped based on the memory we use, right?" Harry spoke. "Like, Amelia's is a fire-dwelling salamander because of-"
"Yes, I can guess," Daphne said. "I dueled Willow, remember?"
"Right, well, mine is a little different."
"Different how?"
"I'll show you, but please try not to hex me too hard."
"Now I am concerned," Daphne said, sounding dejected. "Go on, then."
Harry focused his thoughts on the girl in front of him and performed the wand movement as he had before. "Expecto Patronum."
He held on tightly to his wand to make sure he didn't drop it, but instead of the tentacle he'd seen before, a small, white object popped out of his wand. His first instinct told him it was a Fairy, but seeing the Patronus for what it truly was, Nyx would've bitten him if she knew he'd compared it to her.
It somehow smacked into the wall before falling to the ground, wriggling about on the floor, as Harry could now see it had no legs. Hell, it barely had a head, and unlike the multi-eyed tentacle from before, this patronus seemed to lack eyes completely.
"A tadpole?" Daphne asked. "I've been called worse."
"No," Harry said. "The first time I conjured it, it was a huge tentacle with multiple eyes!"
"I've never heard of someone summoning part of an animal as their Patronus," Daphne mused. "Though admittedly I'm no expert. Maybe Isabela would know?"
Harry looked at Daphne. "You're not upset this is what thinking of you conjured?"
"I thought it'd be a polar bear or a penguin or something to that effect," Daphne explained. "But this? I doubt this has anything to do with me at all."
"But the Patronus changes based on-"
"Love, Harry," Daphne finished for him. "The Patronus is supposed to change based on love." She suddenly blinked. "What? Did you think I was your true love or something?"
Harry's mind raced faster than his Nimbus 2001 at full speed. Of course. Amelia's Patronus had changed because she'd found family in Willow. Familial love, true, but love.
"I-"
To his surprise, Daphne's face softened. "Did you really?"
Harry found himself unable to answer.
"So that's why you were acting so weird," Daphne said, sighing. "Sometimes you're so brilliant, I forget you just turned thirteen, and clueless at that."
"Guilty."
"I like you, Harry," Daphne spoke without any hint of embarrassment. "I do, but I'm definitely not proposing we get engaged at the age of thirteen." She smirked, the way she usually did, and that was all Harry needed to know things were somewhat right between them again.
"I like you, too," Harry answered, much more bashfully.
"Yes, I noticed," Daphne said, grinning. "And?"
"Uh, I-" Harry suddenly wished he'd taken Blaise up on teaching him how to pursue a romantic partner. "I'm sorry my Patronus looks so gross?"
He thought he saw a bit of disappointment in Daphne's face, but her control of her emotions had returned, and she simply glanced at the wriggling white Patronus on the ground. "It's kind of cute, in its own way."
"I suppose," he said. "I wonder if something so small would even do anything to a Dementor."
Harry couldn't help but feel like he'd just messed up an opportunity, but he didn't know what he should have said, so he decided to stop thinking about what might've happened if he'd known what to say. What was that saying? The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
The next day, Harry's door had a visitor come knocking instead. He didn't let whoever it was stand outside for ten minutes before he opened the door.
He hadn't been able to get a word in before Daphne barged into his room. He supposed it was her house, but he couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved by her just going in.
"Um, good morning?" he said.
"Expecto Patronum," Daphne incanted, and a white, misty light shout out of her wand. "I did it!"
Harry beamed at her. "Nice. What'd you use as a happy memory?"
Daphne huffed. "That's for me to know, Mister Potter."
"Fair enough, Miss Greengrass. It's incorporeal, but it looks stronger than mine."
Daphne frowned. "Show me yours again?"
"Expecto Patronum," Harry spoke, and the same milky tadpole creature shot out of his wand at an alarming speed before colliding physically with the wall. He willed it to come closer for inspection, and it did so as though swimming through the air.
He'd looked at it briefly, but now that he could see it up close, Harry saw that whatever it was, it wasn't a baby frog.
It had a mouth that seemed too big for its tiny body, lined with rows of jagged teeth. The Patronus reared back and uncoiled four feeler-like appendages beneath its maw.
"What the hell is that thing?" Daphne asked.
"I dunno," Harry said. "Reminds a bit of the alien creatures I used to read about in old scifi magazines."
"You think it's another one of your friend's gifts?"
Harry considered. It seemed obvious, since the tentacle he'd conjured the first time had the same keyhole-shaped eyes. "Probably. I dunno how useful this one is, though."
"Maybe the Dementors will back away in disgust," Daphne quipped.
Harry chuckled. "Maybe. Still, it's not nearly as impressive as the Key was."
"The Key which you haven't used the whole time you were here because you're afraid Isabela will just destroy it," Daphne reminded him.
"Yes," Harry said. "I guess it's not as useful as it used to be when I couldn't really use a lot of magic. Between my bludgers and the Prydwen and what Johanna is making for me, I admit it's falling behind."
He floated the Key out of his robes.
"It's a weird gift." Daphne's eyes hung on the silver object for a bit. "Seems more like a trinket for amusing kids than anything else."
"The Observer said it was a gift of metal from beyond the stars," Harry said.
"A story that Isabela and Flitwick couldn't corroborate," she pointed out. She blinked. "Wait, that was the phrasing?"
"Yes, why?"
"Have you considered melting it down and reforging it into a different shape?"
Harry pursed his lips. No, he hadn't thought of that. "I'm a little afraid if I do that, I won't be able to direct it anymore."
He'd already lost Nyx in pursuit of power, and while he could bring her back, he didn't know how he'd deal with losing the Key, too. That had been Carter's final gift before he departed to who knows where.
"Fair point," Daphne conceded. "But you might want to consider it in the future. It's not like a floating Key's going to do you much good once you've passed a certain level."
"I'll think about it when Nyx is back," Harry said, simply.
Daphne just nodded, understanding him perfectly.
Notes:
Definitely no update tomorrow. I'm still kinda figuring out how I want to handle something towards the end of Great Horror that'll have repercussions in Goblet or whatever it is I'm going to call it.
By the way, if anyone read the previous two stories recently and happens to remember, could you remind me? Have I ever talked about Justin's family members before now? I should really organize this shit better.
Edit: Ah found it. I mentioned older siblings while he was under Tracey's power. Poop.
Chapter 11: Reunions, Part One
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Another week passed with Harry continuing to juggle his time between dueling practice with Daphne and Isabela, checking the progress on his new 'trunk' from John/Johanna, and trying to figure out what was up with his Patronus. He hadn't been able to reconjure the tentacle-looking version since Nyx's death, and the corporeal tadpole-looking thing didn't seem to be useful in any way other than being mildly unsettling.
He spent most of his time with the Greengrasses, to the point where Tori started feeling like a little sister to him, too. Harry tried not to dwell too long on how quickly they'd grown close compared to him and his actual sister.
In the mornings and evenings, he would check on the Refamiliarization Potion (a stupid name, in his opinion) he'd been brewing in Greengrass Manor. He didn't know how he'd ever apologize to Nyx, but he'd have to figure that out before returning to school. The mixture would be ready just one week shy of the school year starting.
"Ferula!" Daphne incanted, creating a wall of bandages in front of her.
"Duro!" Harry supplied, turning the conjured bandages into a barrier of solid stone just in time to block a full-power Glacius from Isabela.
"You've gotten better," Isabela spoke. "Let's see how you deal with this. Piertotum Locomotor!"
Harry had never heard that spell before, and it wasn't immediately apparent what it did until he saw it: The wall of stone they'd conjured began to shift in place, as if taking a life of its own. It wasn't until it started bending towards them like an angry stone tidal wave that Harry came to terms with what was going on.
They leapt out of the way just as the living wall slammed hard right where they'd been standing. It slowly got back up again.
"Finite Incantatem!" Daphne casted, but the wall continued to rise up.
"Not that easy," Isabela said. Harry now noticed she was grinning, with a rather excited gleam in her eyes. "You'll have to overpower my spell first, and at your age, that's unlikely."
"We'll just have to break it the old fashioned way, then," Harry said. "Serpensortia!"
A large constrictor appeared between him and Daphne.
"Engorgio!" Daphne spoke, and the constrictor grew to the size of an anaconda.
"Engorgio!" Harry incated, and it grew even bigger.
Harry willed the snake to crush the wall with its stength.
"Confundus!" their instructor said, and suddenly the snake seemed confused, then it turned around and began to advance towards Harry and Daphne instead, its eyes clouded by a kind of haze.
"I command you, asss Heritor of Ssslytherin!" Harry hissed. "Obey my authority!"
The snake stopped, and Harry watched as its pupils seemed to clear. He was about to pat himself on the back when the constrictor suddenly thrashed in pain. The living wall had sprouted stone spikes and clamped down like a giant bear trap.
"I almost forgot you Parselmouths could do that," Isabela said casually as the snake's dying body faded into nothing.
"Harry, remember how you hit me with freezing water the day you met her?" Daphne hissed.
"Yesss," Harry answered. "Angle?"
"Let gravity do sssome of the work," Daphne said.
Harry nodded, hoping he understood her correctly. "Aguamenti!"
He pointed his wand straight up, causing a sphere of water to form above their heads. It wasn't very big, perhaps just enough to engulf a person, but that was as much as Harry could do with his magic, especially since he had to keep it afloat.
"Glacius!" Daphne incanted just as Harry willed the water ball to crash forward.
The water flash froze into a sphere of jagged ice, crashing into the living wall with such force that it collapsed backwards, thin as it was from being originally bandages. When the dust cleared, the amphitheater looked like a war had been waged on it, with chunks of broken ice and rock and dirt all over.
"Well done," Isabela said. "I dare say you two are now the best duelists in your year, perhaps even a little beyond that."
"Thank you, Isabela," Harry began, "For-"
With a wordless flick of her wand, Isabela sent the two of them sprawling to the ground. She wore a rather smug look on her face as she said, "But you didn't come to me to learn how to duel your peers, did you?"
Neither of them could argue with that.
Tracey
A small, grey cat stared up at Tracey, its eyes gleaming with intelligence.
Are you my master? a female voice asked in her head.
Just call me Tracey, she replied. She'd always been curious how exactly Harry and Nyx communicated, but now she understood.
Harry and Willow had both warned her about the strain of Familiar Binding, but she felt fine. It was probably because the cat in front of her wasn't magical in nature in the first place. Harry had said something about how conjuring magical creatures was much harder than non-magical ones. She had a feeling the same concept applied to this.
The cat in question had been a stray she'd taken to feeding outside her house. When she finally felt comfortable enough with Tracey, the Slytherin girl lured her in and performed the ritual. Nick was at work, so he couldn't object.
Now, what should I call you? Tracey asked.
Cats do not have names, she answered. So call me what you wish.
Tracey thought of her fiery lady friend and then the cat's beautiful gray fur. Ashes, then.
The remains of a fire? the cat asked. Well, I did say you could call me whatever you wanted.
You know what fire is? Tracey asked. I thought animals would call it the red flower or something.
Are you referencing the Jungle Book? Ashes questioned, then scoffed. I have learned much in the past five minutes, I'll have you know.
I suppose that makes sense, Tracey communicated. That the magic would speed you up on things so you actually had something interesting to say.
By the way, isn't it time for lunch? Ashe asked.
Familiars don't need to eat.
And you didn't need a Familiar, but here we are. Feed me, human.
Tracey sighed. I wanna show you to Mama first, then you may feast.
Very well. I suppose I have all the time in the world now that you've turned me into this fake immortal cat.
Tracey winced at the cat's words, but scooped Ashes up in her arms, minding the only thing about it that set it apart from a normal cat: a transfigured, serpentine tail in place of its normal furred one. Transfigurations didn't normally last forever, but with the Binding Ritual preserving her form, it would hold as long as their contract did.
Harry
Despite being able to Floo to and from Diagon Alley any time he wanted, Harry still waited a week before term started to get his school supplies. His robes were due for changing, but Daphne had scoffed at his mention of Madam Malkin's and reminded him Marick from the Workshop could handle his tailoring needs better.
"Wait," Harry said as they neared the Floo Connection in Greengrass Manor. He'd popped over to her place out of habit for breakfast more than anything else instead of going straight to Diagon Alley. "What were you doing in Malkins' during first year, then?"
"Accompanying Theo and Blaise, of course," she answered. "I didn't actually buy anything there."
"I could've sworn-" Harry began, but then shook his head. What did it matter? "Wait, but why were they buying their robes at-"
"Come now, Harry. Just because you get to use our best tailor's services doesn't mean all my friends do," Daphne told him as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Those two haven't even been to the Workshop, though they probably know about it. Besides, getting your school robes at Madam Malkin's is practically a tradition."
"And you? I thought you were a stickler for honor and tradition."
"Not when the tradition is a marketing scheme so she gets a boom in sales every summer," Daphne answered.
"That makes sense. Shall we?"
Daphne shot him a scathing look that sent chills down his spine. "She's not here yet."
Harry blinked. Who was - He almost smacked himself when he figured it out. Right. Astoria was attending her first year at Hogwarts. How could he forget? "Sorry."
Half a minute later, Astoria hopped down the hallway, looking as excited about her first school shopping trip as Harry had been. Despite how rough he'd been feeling at the loss of Nyx (he doubted he could sleep if Isabela didn't tire him out every day), he couldn't help but smile.
"To the Leaky Cauldron, then?" Harry asked.
"Tori needs to pick her trunk up from Zain first," Daphne answered before taking a pinch of green powder. "Carriage Main Branch!"
The three of them reunited half a minute later in the private Floo Connection within the Diagon Alley branch of Carriage. Zain Edwards, the man in charge of selling their products whom Harry had met during that first summer, greeted them and quickly supplied a custom trunk for Astoria.
Harry and Daphne didn't really speak to each other as they walked, having honed their nonverbal communication during dueling such that they practically read each other's minds. All it took was a few gestures and loaded expressions. Astoria was much more talkative, her shopping list gripped firmly in her little hands.
Flourish and Blotts was their first stop. Their friends had all agreed to meet up there in advance, save for Justin, who said he might be dropping in later. They'd seen little of him over the summer, but then, he had half a year of catching up with classes to do, and some stuff for his family, besides.
The bookstore still saw a lot of traffic as people bought schoolbooks for the coming year, though it was much less crowded than when Lockhart had his book signing the previous summer.
Harry idly wondered whether Lockhart was still going after Flamel, had already managed to steal the Stone without blabbling about it (though Harry couldn't imagine Lockhart keeping that quiet), or more likely, had already been snuffed out by either Flamel or the Death Eaters.
He pushed the thought aside as his friends came into view. Theo, Blaise, Tracey, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all present. It was hard not to notice he was just missing a Ravenclaw. He'd have to work on that.
"Hello, ickle Harrykins," a familiar voice spoke from behind him. Harry didn't have to turn around to know it belonged to Fred-or-George.
"Fancy meetin' you here," the other twin chimed in.
"Sorry, Harry," Ginny said. "Couldn't shake them off."
"No harm done," Harry answered. "Good to see you. All of you."
"I'm sorry about Nyx," Hermione said. "You alright, Harry?"
"I wasn't for a bit," Harry answered, doing his best not to glance at Daphne, knowing every Slytherin in front of him would see something in that gesture. "But I'm alright now. I'll have her back by tomorrow night."
A lie, sadly, as he'd only been coping by keeping himself busy. The few silent hours before and after his poor sleep felt lonely without her voice inside his head. He'd been trying to think of a way to extend the Refamiliarization Potion's shelf life, but it was difficult to experiment with a Potion that took nearly a month to brew.
"That's good to hear," Hermione said, completely buying it. "Er, did you get sick right after?"
Harry furrowed his brow. He hadn't told anyone about that. "Yeah. Why?"
"Fairy Curse," Hermione said. "Killing a Fairy gives the killer nausea for a bit. It's something they have to ward off predators. It's why they have to be really careful when getting Fairy wings for ingredients."
"Huh," he answered. He hadn't known that. He thought he'd known everything he needed to about Fairies. "Should I be worried?"
Hermione shook her head. "It only lasts an hour or so. And, um, I'm sure Nyx isn't too sore with you!"
Harry didn't answer. He wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't be. In all honesty, he deserved any and all of Nyx's fury.
Daphne took that as her cue to divert everyone's attention. "By the way, have you all met my sister?"
Astoria shuffled out from beside Daphne. "Hello. I'm Astoria, of House Greengrass."
Harry wondered not for the first time how the young girl was so different from her sister, not that it was a bad thing. He didn't think Slytherin - no, the entirety of Hogwarts - could handle two Daphne Greengrasses.
"Ah, right, you're starting school this year," Theo said.
"Heya, Tori," said Blaise.
"Hey Tori," Tracey echoed.
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said. "I'm Hermione Granger. What house do you suppose you'll be in?"
"Neville of House Longbottom," Neville chimed in. "Hi."
"Ginny Weasley," Ginny said, opting for a less formal touch despite being Sacred Twenty Eight herself.
"Fred," George said.
"No, idiot, I'm Fred," Fred shot back.
The conversation turned to polite chatter as Astoria asked questions about Hogwarts and the group answered.
"They seem to like her," Harry whispered to Daphne as they started browsing the shelves.
"Tori's always had a way with people," Daphne answered. "The exact opposite of me, in some ways."
Harry snickered. "Miss Greengrass, did you just call yourself unlikable?"
Had they been alone at Greengrass Manor, she would've hexed him until he apologized, but Daphne contented herself with a glare that promised punishment at a later date.
"Sssome people would disssagree," Harry added, then quickly clammed up after realizing what he'd just said. She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the group.
"So," Daphne suddenly said. "What are you all taking for electives?"
"Study of Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy," Hermione answered.
Neville snorted. "Hermione was gonna take all five, but we managed to talk her out of it."
"Took some convincing," Theo chimed in. "You'd need to be in two places at once to pull that off."
Hermioned huffed in indignation. "I could've made it work. Somehow. Professor McGonagall would've helped me figure out a schedule."
"I doubt she'd have been willing to make a clone of you," Harry quipped.
"Ooh. You think she'd be willing to make a clone of me?" Tracey asked.
"Why? Got somewhere you'd rather be?" Daphne asked. It sounded innocent enough, but Harry and Theo exchanged a glance.
So, Daphne probably knew about Tracey and Willow, too, though she hadn't mentioned it at all during his stay at the manor.
"Maybe if you persuaded her," Blaise suggested.
Neville groaned. "Blaise, please. Age difference."
"I meant with her vampire powers," Blaise said, putting on an innocent smile that implied otherwise.
"So, subjects?" Daphne repeated, hoping to bring some semblance of order to the conversation before Tori asked what Blaise meant. "Taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."
"Same plus Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said.
"Care and Divination," Neville said.
"Same as Daphne," Theo answered.
"Same as Theo," Blaise said finally.
"Tracey?" Harry prompted when she wasn't answering.
"Muggle Studies, Runes, and Care," Tracey responded.
Harry managed to stop himself from asking, 'Why Muggle Studies?' considering Tracey was a Half-Blood, who would probably know more about Muggles than even Arthur Weasley. It was obvious why she was taking Care, but did that mean Willow was taking Muggle Studies? Why?
"Huh," Harry instead thought out loud. Fortunately, Ginny filled the silence.
"Ugh. Why Muggle Studies?" Ginny asked. "I'm not taking electives until next year but I doubt I'm doing that."
"Dad would be disappointed, sis," Fred-or-George said.
"You really are a Slytherin now, hating on Muggles and all," the other added.
As Ginny went on a tirade about how she meant she was sick of Muggle stuff from their dad, Harry couldn't help but feel it was good to be among his friends again.
They bought their books, their Potions ingredients, and various other supplies for the schoolyear. When their friends went into Madam Malkin's to get their new robes, Harry and Daphne waited outside by a quiet side alley. Tori had gone with the others just to get a look.
"So, you know about Tracey's newfound distraction, too, huh?" Harry began when he was certain no one was listening. He'd also whispered a Quietus around them to be safe.
Daphne fixed a calculating gaze on him. "Don't ruin it for her, Harry. She deserves some happiness."
Despite himself, Harry blinked. He had no idea about Tracey's home life other than when she spoke about her mother. A familiar, sickening feeling churned in his stomach. "Does she need help?"
"Ask her," Daphne answered simply. "I've already tried." They'd need to have a longer conversation about this back at her place, it seemed, but he trusted her judgement. She knew the span of his abilities and influence about as well as he did.
"I'm glad they've found something, then," Harry said.
There was a hint of movement in Daphne's mouth, as if she had a retort, but whatever it was, she didnt' voice it, and the two of them waited in awkward silence until their friends came back and they were all on their way to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.
"Say, Harry," Hermione said. "You think you could lend me that book on Familiars?"
"My copy's with Tracey," Harry reminded her, turning to Tracey. "Are you finished with it?"
"Yes, actually," Tracey answered. "Don't have it on me right now, though."
"That's alright, I can wait," Hermione said.
"What're you going to get?" Harry asked. He'd never thought of Hermione as interested in animals before.
"I hadn't decided," she admitted. "I was hoping to go shopping for one today with the money my parents gave me."
"Too bad the other Potter isn't here," Tracey said. "Bet she could've helped you pick."
Harry did his best not to grin. "True, she could've."
"Can we make a stop at the Magical Menagerie?" Hermione asked.
"Doesn't seem like a problem," Neville said.
"Well, I, for one, would rather not come out smelling like animal dung," Daphne said. "You go ahead. I'll be at the ice cream parlour."
Harry was about to say he could go with them, but then he thought of seeing the glass case where they kept all the Fairies and immediately closed his mouth. "It is kind of hot today," he said. "I think I'll go for ice cream, too."
In the end, all of them except for Harry, Ginny, and Daphne went to the Menagerie.
"Reminds me of last summer," Ginny said as she dug into her chocolate sundae.
"I suppose it does," Harry said. He'd picked a banana split for himself.
"Last summer?" Daphne repeated. Her ice cream, predictably, was three different kinds of chocolate.
"Oh, yeah," Ginny said. "You weren't there. It was me, Harry, Susan, and Willow after we got stuck outside the barrier at King's Cross."
Harry and Ginny related the story of how they'd spent the day eating and watching a Disney movie on the muggle side of London before coming to that very same ice cream parlour.
"And when are you taking me on a trip through the other side?" Daphne asked.
Harry couldn't help but smirk. "I didn't think you'd be interested, though in my defense, that trip hadn't been planned. Besides, we weren't very close last summer."
"No, we weren't, were we? Funny how much things can change over a year."
Ginny suddenly looked like she was struggling not to ask them something.
"Anyway, I wonder how Justin's doing," Harry said, steering the conversation before Ginny could ask anything.
"I am wondering what's got him so busy," Daphne answered. "I understand remedial lessons, but he can't even practice magic at home."
Their friends returned soon after. Hermione had chosen a strange, lion-like cat to take home. She'd named him Crookshanks after one of the portraits in Hogwarts. He owed Theo, Blaise, and Daphne five Galleons each for betting she'd name whatever she bought after something from Hogwarts: A History.
Notes:
1.) Just so we're clear, 'serpent tail' means she has a snake's tail, not that she has a snake head for a tail.
2.) Have you noticed we're eleven chapters in and it's still summer?
Chapter 12: Reunions, Part Two
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Justin
Justin entered Moribund's store with some surprise. He didn't think he'd be allowed inside after the mess he made during his last visit.
The storefront was the same as ever, with books ranging from normal to mildly Dark, though he suspected people after the truly Dark stuff had to go somewhere less public.
"Surprised you let me in," Justin told Cecil, the young man who tended the store.
"Boss says you can browse and purchase, but you're barred from using the back," Cecil answered with disinterest.
"And what if he came as my guest?" Sara asked from the doorway.
Cecil suddenly blinked, his body tense. "L-Lady Mustafa? Er, of course, you can use the room."
"Thank you," she said, and then signaled Justin to lead the way. He made a mental note of how she didn't seem to pay the rental fee. Either auror Sara Mustafa had a tab here, which was interesting in its own way, or she got to use the room for free, which was even more curious.
"Sit," she commanded as they entered the room with the one flimsy chair and table. He did as told, waiting as she began to cast layers of privacy spells over the room.
When she was finished, Sara conjured a large, black throne chair for herself and sat on it, crossing one slacks-covered leg over the other. It was only then, in the dim light that he noticed an amulet in the shape of a golden scarab hanging around her neck. Her gloved right hand gripped her wand loosely, with the tip just slightly off being aimed directly at him.
He was suddenly very glad he'd ordered Dios to trail behind him. He didn't fancy another round of 'self-defense' in this room, but he would if he had to.
"So, it's done, then?" Justin asked. He'd been supposed to meet up with Harry and friends for shopping, but Sara had owled him, asking to meet. If she'd had them meet here of all places to see him squirm, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
Sara made a barely perceptible nod. "It's done. Bones thinks Black did it, though she has her doubts. Absolutely no evidence tracing it to you."
"You, uh, found a motive?" Justin questioned.
"The Newbournes owed the Blacks money," Sara said. "Not Sirius himself, but his brother Regulus. Black needed some cash after escaping Azkaban and took Henry Newbourne out when he wouldn't pay, which is forunate for you, all things considered. A convicted Pureblood offing another shady Pureblood makes a lot less waves than if anyone found out a Muggleborn student actually did it."
He was about to ask if the debt was a fact or something she'd fabricated, but he supposed he was better off not knowing. He was a Hufflepuff, after all, not a Ravenclaw. He could keep his curiosity under control.
"Does it truly matter how pure the blood of the killer is?" Justin asked.
"You'd be surprised how much they care about it here," Sara answered in a world-weary tone.
"Well, thank you again, and just tell me what I can do to repay the favor."
"Oh, I won't forget," she said with a smirk that made him secondguess not for the first time what House she'd really been in.
"By the way, Sara, Cecil called you 'Lady Mustafa,'" Justin began. "Does that mean you're-"
"Pureblood?" Sara scoffed. "I suppose, though Cecil is being more polite than anything else. I'm not Sacred Twenty Eight. We weren't here when Nott made his book."
"Wait, so what are you then?"
Sara gave him a blank stare. "I'm English, obviously. You can't tell from the accent? But my parents were from Egypt." Her left hand rose to fumble with the golden scarab amulet. A keepsake from home, he imagined.
"So they moved here?" Justin asked.
There was suddenly a cold, steely look in Sara's eyes. "They were taken by a great evil."
Justin put on a sympathetic face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- So that's why you became an auror."
A pause before she answered. "In part."
"Well, thank you for helping our family," Justin said. "I think I understand you a bit better now."
"I'd be surprised if you didn't," she answered, offering a half-smile. "I'm not particularly complicated."
Justin silently agreed. Orphaned and left to deal with the magical world on her own by what was likely the Dark Lord. No wonder she helped him. She must've seen a little bit of herself when she saw him; and he had no doubt she'd made some interesting choices in her life like he had.
Harry
Day turned to late afternoon and Justin never managed to catch up to them, which worried Harry a little bit. He hoped Justin didn't feel alienated after being gone for so long due to the Petrification. They'd need to have a talk or something when school resumed.
He parted with his friends knowing he'd see them again in a week, returning with Daphne and Astoria to Greengrass Manor. After all, he had one last thing he needed to do before returning home.
"You've got the spell committed to memory?" Daphne asked. The two of them were alone in the empty lab where he'd been brewing the Refamiliarization Potion.
"It's not much of a spell," Harry answered. He opened the cauldron's lid and checked the consistency of the Potion. It was about what he expected. "Neither was the essence-binding ritual. The book says the important things are the ingredients and the intent, so it's best I vocalize in my native language."
"What a strange branch of magic," Daphne commented, turning up her nose.
"I know," Harry said. "It's either foreign in origin or was created by someone who didn't practice normal magic. All it's missing is a drop of my blood."
Daphne looked like she had something else to ask, but she was biting her tongue, so Harry nudged her along.
"Remember what I said after that untied shoelace incident at the start of summer?" Harry asked.
"Right. No need to play word games and whatnot when we're in private," Daphne said. "I was wondering. What else is in the Potion?"
"Depends on the Familiar," Harry answered. The mixture was just about ready. He only needed to vocalize his intent and focus on the magic binding him and Nyx. "The Potion is essentially the raw components needed to assemble a new body for the Familiar. In this case, it's mostly Fairy parts, along with a few ingredients standard to the Refamiliarization mixture."
"Sounds a bit Dark, doesn't it?"
"I thought so, too, at first," Harry said. "But we use Fairy wings in Potions all the time."
"Right," Daphne said. "But it's not just wings, is it? You said parts."
Harry paused. It was true. The components for a Fairy Refamiliarization included things a Fairy couldn't exactly live without. A heart, for example. He'd done his best to simply think of it as another Potion assignment. "True."
"It's like you killed another Fairy, in order to-" Daphne must've noticed his growing discomfort, because she stopped talking.
"Well," Harry began. "Nyx is-" he paused.
The room stood silent for a bit besides the soft sound of liquid being stirred.
"Nyx is sapient," Harry finally managed to say. "She has thoughts, feelings, et cetera. A normal Fairy may as well be an animal."
"Right. Of course," Daphne said. "And Nyx is our friend."
Yes, she was. Though if he was being honest, the Fairy whose heart he'd used in the mixture could've been, too.
How had he gotten here? When he'd first purchased Nyx, he'd been afraid of treating her like an animal on account of her humanoid appearance. Now here he was using one of her kin's heart in a Potion.
"Do you think I'm going Dark?" Harry asked.
"You can produce a Patronus," Daphne answered. "So, no, I don't think so."
"But you've seen my Patronus," Harry countered. "Maybe the reason it looks so off is because I'm turning into a Dark Wizard."
"Well, if you are, then I'll still be-"
"Please don't say what I think you're going to say," Harry said in a stiff tone. "If I ever become the kind of monster Voldemort is, I don't want to drag you with me."
Daphne huffed. "What makes you think I wouldn't be the one dragging you to the dark side?"
"For starters, your Patronus isn't a flesh-eating tadpole thing." Harry offered her a half-smile. "And besides, I've seen how you treat your employees and your House Elves. Not to mention how much you love your family. You might not be a saint or anything, but you're far from Dark."
She shot a Stinging Hex at his shoulder that made him yelp. "Arsehole," she said. "I thought we were kidding around."
Harry rubbed his shoulder and was about to say maybe she was a budding Dark Lady when he noticed Daphne looking as embarrassed as he'd ever seen her. If anyone could have seen her then, they would never have called her an Ice Princess, pouting and looking down at her shoes.
"Why are you embarrassed?" Harry asked. "I'm the one who's turning into the second coming of Tom Riddle here."
That earned him a laugh from Daphne.
"I can't pretend to have known what Riddle was like when he was thirteen," Daphne said. "And what little I do know of him might've all been lies he'd told me to make me lower my guard."
Harry quirked an eyebrow.
"But I don't think you're like him at all," Daphne told him in a confident tone.
"Oh we're very alike," Harry answered. "Both masters of the Chamber, both Parselmouths in Slytherin, but we are different, too, I guess. Anyway, we've kept Nyx waiting long enough, haven't we?"
They took another minute to make sure they were both calm before Harry opened the book on the page for the Refamiliarization Ritual. He took deep, slow breaths and began his incantation. Daphne stood at his side, offering him a clean knife, handle first.
"Flesh and bone of kin, taken from the truly living, you will renew your brethren!"
The contents of the cauldron suddenly growed an eerie green light. The parts taken from other Fairies (he'd bought them, of course, he didn't actually go kill one himself) had been dumped in on the first week.
Harry took the knife from Daphne and placed it against his index finger.
"Blood of the Master, sparingly given, you will revive your servant!"
He pricked himself lightly, barely enough to be considered a wound, really, and watched as a single drop of red liquid fell into the cauldron.
The moment the two liquids made contact, flame engulfed the insides of the cauldron, as if he'd made a mistake in chemistry and caused an explosion. Harry pulled Daphne back and they watched from the corner, wands out, as the flame slowly died down.
Thick, black smoke rose out of the cauldron, and from within, a small shape rose on wings the color of night, yawning as if she'd awoken from a month-long nap. Which, in a way, she had.
Nyx? Harry asked.
"Hello Harry," Nyx answered.
I'm sorry, Harry answered. I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot and if you want to leave, I-
"Nyx, did you just talk?" Daphne asked.
Harry blinked, his train of thought broken by the unexpected question.
"I sssuppose I did, didn't I?" Nyx said. No, she hissed, Harry realized. Harry noticed for the first time how where Nyx's eyes had once been nearly-solid black beads, now they were green circles, with a single black slit in the middle of each.
"The Essence-Binding," Harry said. "With the Basilisk Fang-"
"Oh, yeah. Weren't we going to do that today?" Nyx asked.
"No, Nyx," Harry said. "We did it nearly a month ago. Don't you remember?"
"A month ago?" Nyx echoed. "But I-"
Harry could see realization sinking into Nyx's tiny face, and his guilt flooded back like water from a broken dam. Why didn't she remember? He thought Familiars were supposed to remember everything up until the moment they expired.
"I died?" she asked. "How ssstrange. No, wait. I remember now. Sssomething went wrong. You tried to sssave me by shoving that foul goat rock in my mouth."
"I'm really sorry!" Harry said out loud. "I should've planned better, considered the Essence-Binding might have adverse effects on you. I knew I could use the Fang, but I never stopped to think if I should."
"I don't really mind," Nyx told him. "To me, it felt like sssleeping."
"But I killed you!" Harry yelled.
"And I got better," Nyx said with a blank expression. "Ssstop making ssssuch a big deal out of it."
"But-"
"At leassst tell me you two finally went on a date while I wasss dead," Nyx said.
Their mutual silence earned them a frustrated groan from the little fairy.
The next day, Harry, Nyx and Daphne Flooed over to the Workshop, since John had informed Daphne that Harry's order was ready.
John wore a sleeveless hoodie with the hood down, and brightened the moment he saw the three of them.
"Harry, Daphne, glad you could stop by."
"Hello, John," Harry said. He noticed the large muscles on John's arms and wondered if that was from being a Metamorphmagus or actual exercise, but kept that to himself. "My order's done?"
"Da," he answered, leading them to a circular shape obscured by a cloth cover. "Some of my finest work. Has all your specifications, including flight, though is much faster on ground."
He pulled the cover off to reveal what looked like a miniature, black chariot with four wheels made of steel. The main body was a sphere, like Harry had requested, and he could see sharp, teeth-like edges along the device's 'mouth,' where it opened.
"I hope you're not expecting people to believe this is a trunk," Daphne commented.
"No, this is just a surprise tool that'll help me later," Harry said. Later, of course, being when he had to face off against Sirius Black or whoever else threatened his and Willow's lives.
"So, what're you calling this one?" Daphne asked. "Excalibur? Your weapon that promises victory?"
Harry snorted. "No, I'm no king. This is going to be the ace up my sleeve that I use to defeat the powerful."
"Wait, I know this one," Daphne said. "The blade used to kill Arthur, right?"
Harry nodded. "Exactly. The weapon wielded by Arthur's son Mordred, during his bid for power."
Clarent, Harry thought. The device responded to his thoughts, and began to propel itself forward.
Harry willed the device to open its metal maw, and it did. He'd specified it should be able to close its mouth with enough force to shatter bones, and he wasn't disappointed when it snapped shut as if biting into prey.
"Five hundred Galleons, right, John?" Harry asked, reaching for his money bag.
"Four hundred," he answered, to Harry's surprise.
"You sure?"
"Discount on my professional fee, for ensuring welfare of my employers," John said.
"It was my pleasure," Harry said, handing over the amount specified.
"Please tell me you're not going to make a new one every summer," Daphne said.
"Of course not," Harry told her as if she was being ridiculous. "You have any idea how hard it is to control two Bludgers, two Trunks, and a magical Key all at the same time?"
"No, and I don't ever want to know."
During the Potter Twins' final night at Bones Manor, Amelia called the three Hogwarts students living in her home to her study after supper.
"What do you suppose this is about?" Harry whispered to Willow.
"I haven't the foggiest," Willow answered just as quietly.
The door swung open just as Willow was about to knock. They found Amelia sitting behind her desk with a pensive expression on her face.
"You look troubled," Harry observed.
Amelia scoffed. "I'm just trying to make peace with what I'm about to do."
Harry shot her a questioning look. Normally, he'd have taken a statement like that to mean she was going to do something untoward, but this was Amelia. She wasn't only Willow's legal guardian but head of the DMLE. If he couldn't trust her, the world was doomed.
She sighed and placed three identical folding mirrors on top of her desk.
"And these are?" Harry asked.
"Communication mirrors," Amelia said, her tone serious. "A secret tool of the Auror office. They're linked into a network connected to all other mirrors used by my Aurors. I will lend them to you until Black has been caught. Use them to get in touch with Aurors stationed at Hogwarts only in case of emergency."
Harry tried to whistle and felt stupid when no sound came out. "No using them for pranks. Got it."
"And no telling anyone you have them, either," Amelia said. "These are a secret means of communication far quicker than owl post. No using them in public unless there's an actual emergency."
"Of course," Harry said as he reached for one. "Thank you for trusting us with these."
Amelia placed a firm hand on top of the one he'd been going for, and said, "And no tampering with it, either. I remember the details of your fight with Riddle. A second, flying Trunk that could fire blinding weapons, was it?"
"Surely you're not suggesting I could do that myself?" Harry replied, somehow both flattered (that she thought he could) and mildly insulted.
"No tampering with Auror equipment," Amelia repeated. "Are we clear?"
"Of course. I wasn't planning on it," Harry answered. He had been hoping he could figure out how it worked so he could reverse engineer his own, but he definitely wasn't dumb enough to mess with police equipment in a way that could be traced back to him.
"So, how does this work?" Willow asked as she picked hers up.
"Speak the name of the person you wish to talk to," Amelia said. "And if they can respond, the mirror will show their face. You'll be able to speak as if they're right there."
Harry nodded, impressed. This was some science fiction level technology. He didn't think people would be able to communicate like that for another fifty years, at least.
"So, who's stationed at Hogwarts?" Willow asked. Bless his sister sometimes.
"I can give you two names," Amelia said. "Some of our newer, less occupied recruits: Adam Proudfoot and Veronica Savage."
"But there are" more than two there, yes?" Harry questioned.
"Of course," Amelia answered, smirking. "But I won't have you bothering senior aurors when you can contact the rank and file just as well."
"Is Miss Mustafa there?" Harry asked. He remembered her from last summer.
"No, she isn't," Amelia answered. "She's in the field on another assignment."
Harry took that to mean she was tracking down Black and left it at that.
"Unfortunate. She seemed quite competent," Harry said.
"One of my best, but stop trying to get information on my aurors, Mister Potter," Amelia said, sounding tired. "Adam Proudfoot and Veronica Savage. That's all I'm giving you."
"It's plenty," Harry said. "Thank you, Amelia. I understand how difficult a decision this must've been, but these might save our lives."
"I sincerely hope things don't escalate to a point where you'll need them, but you're right. They probably will."
Notes:
1.) Confession Time: Despite how I always say Nyx is a Fairy and human-looking besides the wings and size, I always imagine her as a Cornish Pixie.
2.) Hogwarts Express next chapter. Finally.
3.) I'd tell you to expect delays because I'm looking for a part time writing gig but let's be honest it'll probably be out tomorrow or something.
4.) I adore the theories I sometimes see in the comments. They really make my day.
5.) Yes, you're not misremembering. The incantation Harry uses for the Refamiliarization Ritual is very very close to the one Wormtail used to rez Voldy in Goblet of Fire.Changelog: Edited some of Sara's fashion choices because snake amulet seemed kinda on the nose.
Chapter 13: Horror
Notes:
It's the weekend, so why not upload more?
Chapter Text
During his last free week of the summer, Harry spent his time in Greengrass Manor trying to figure out what else the Basilisk Fang had changed in Nyx.
She obviously couldn't turn people into stone, since he and Daphne would've been Petrified already - another case where Harry had been an idiot and not prepared. He'd just assumed the Essence-Binding had failed completely.
Next, they tested if she was poisonous, trying out her saliva on conjured birds to see if they'd suffer any effects. In conclusion: No, Nyx's saliva was not poisonous.
After days of testing, it seemed Nyx's only new ability was being a Parselmouth, which ordinarily would have been a great win. The problem was they already had three Parselmouths in their circle.
Harry had to reprimand himself after that thought, noticing it was sickeningly like complaining he'd gotten more presents last year than this year.
The final days of summer vacation passed quickly, and finally, it was time for Harry to go back to Hogwarts. He was enjoying his final breakfast of the year at Bones Manor when Willow hopped down the stairs.
"Huh," Willow said as she spotted him. "I thought you'd be popping over to Greengrass' place."
Harry swallowed the piece of pancake in his mouth and smirked. "Hey, you've been out nearly as much as I have."
Willow's face flushed and she broke eye contact. "W-well, I guess it's normal for siblings to have different friend groups, even if we're the same age."
She quickly settled into place with Susan right behind her. Willow's foster sister seemed surprisingly at ease with Willow's frequent trips out, and Harry wondered if that meant Susan knew what Willow was really doing.
"So, did you ever manage to cast a Patronus?" Willow asked casually.
Harry was silent a few moments longer than he had to be. A Slytherin would've picked up on it, but neither of his housemates played the game on the level his Housemates did. "I'd rather not talk about it," he said, trying to sound disappointed, implying he'd failed.
"Well, neither of us managed," Willow offered in a consoling tone.
"I just hope they catch Black before one of those things decides to come near us," Susan added.
"Doubt it'll be that easy," Harry said. "Amelia will do her best, but there's too many unknowns."
"You think he's really going to try for us?" Willow asked, her voice dropping a few octaves.
Harry considered. Theo had told him Black wasn't actually a Death Eater, as far as his father knew, but Harry couldn't divulge that tidbit of information without outing Lord Nott as an actual complicit Death Eater.
"He might," Harry said after some time. "But we've beaten a Dark Wizard already, right, sister?"
"Oh, sure, let me just pull a flaming sword out of my arse and we're good to go," Willow quipped.
They shared a laugh before finishing breakfast in silence and getting ready to Floo to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
"So, dumb question maybe," Susan spoke as they exited the Floo connection at the train station. "But why don't we just spend the day goofing off like last year and then Flooing to Hogsmeade after?"
"I was going to suggest that," Harry began. "But then I checked what movies were showing and nothing really caught my eye."
He'd already seen Jurassic Park with Theo, after all. He wasn't going to watch it again just to bond with his sister and Susan.
"Besides," Harry said. "Wouldn't do for us to create an image of being too cool for everyone else on the train."
"Right," Willow agreed, though she'd looked a bit disappointed, too.
Maybe he'd take them and Amelia out during Christmas or something, if the Black issue was already handled by then. Knowing his luck, though, it would be resolved by his and/or Willow's hands near the end of the school year.
"We can go next summer," Harry said, sighing softly. "You could've said you wanted to go."
"Well, aren't you Slytherins supposed to be mind readers?" Willow shot back.
"No, that's just Tracey," Harry answered. It technically wasn't even true, but she might as well have been.
Willow closed her mouth and didn't respond, so Harry took that as his cue to go find his friends. He bade his housemates goodbye and began his search for his Housemates aboard the train.
He spotted Tracey, Daphne, and Astoria lounging alone in a closed booth on the very last passenger car like they'd paid for it and joined them. It was then he realized he'd forgotten to ask Daphne about Tracey's situation since he'd been so focused on reviving Nyx.
Don't blame me, you idiot, Nyx protested.
"Hello, ladies," he spoke as he stepped in. "Mind if I join you?"
Tracey smirked at him. "Only if you say the magic word."
"Magic word, huh?" Harry mused. "Is it Willow?"
He'd never seen Tracey shut up so fast before. Daphne shot him a warning look.
"Relax," Harry said after closing the door behind him. "You seem happy together."
"Well, good," Tracey said. "Not that I needed your approval, but it's nice to have."
Harry smirked. "Hey, I won't tell anyone. That's up to you."
"I mean, if you did," Tracey said. "Daphne would make you regret it."
"She's not wrong," Daphne said.
"And who's this?" Harry asked, spotting the gray cat contently purring in Tracey's lap as she petted it.
"This is Ashes," Tracey answered. "Say 'hello,' Ashes."
The cat looked too comfy to be bothered, but eventually hissed, "Hello, Ssspeaker."
Harry blinked. "Is she part snake?" he asked, even as he saw her tail was scaly rather than furry.
Tracey grinned. "Thought it'd be useful to communicate long distance, seeing as how we have three Parselmouths these days."
"Four, actually," Harry reminded her, pointing at Nyx before inspecting the cat again. "How'd you know this was gonna work?"
"Asked Daph to run a few experiments on how much an animal needed to be snakelike before it could speak snake," Tracey answered.
"Answer's not very much, if you're wondering," Daphne offered.
"That's kind of brilliant, actually," Harry said.
It didn't take long for the rest of the crew to file in and become embroiled in multiple different conversations ranging from new findings in a herbology tabloid to betting on who'd be the Captain of the Slytherin Team now that Flint was done.
"What do you mean he's still here?" Harry asked.
"Flint is staying another year," Tracey answered. "He failed his N.E.W.T.s."
"Oh, joy. Wonder if they'll suspend Quidditch with a mass murderer on the loose." He supposed that's what happened when you spent all your energy on an extracurricular activity instead of studying.
"Doubt it. They didn't even cancel Quidditch during the war," she grumbled.
Harry wasn't sure if she was kidding or not, but he believed her.
"Neville," Hermione suddenly said. She'd been in the middle of helping Neville figure out this year's first Charms lesson in advance. "Is that a new wand?"
Neville's face turned beet red. "Uh, yeah."
"Finally took our advice, did you?" Blaise asked.
Harry had already known from Neville's letters, but it seemed he hadn't shared with the rest.
"Well, I talked to my gran about it, and when I explained my dad's wand didn't work well with me, she, uh-"
"Got you a new one?" Blaise offered.
"Er, she called me a nutter for not telling her sooner," Neville answered sheepishly. "Said she was afraid she'd raised me wrong. So, you know, thanks."
"Told you it'd help," Theo said.
Hours later, Harry realized he'd missed sitting in a single compartment with all his friends. It almost made him regret his little detour with Willow, Susan, and Ginny the previous year. Almost. No rule saying the entire crew couldn't go hang out and then Floo to Hogsmeade after. The only Slytherin friend they had missing was Ginny, who'd opted to spend the train trip with her own little circle somewhere else on the train.
The train of good feelings stopped when the actual train did.
"Why'd we stop?" Neville asked. "We aren't at the station yet."
"Engine trouble?" Blaise suggested.
"I've never heard of the Hogwarts Express breaking down," Hermione began, but she stopped when the rest of them gave her looks telling her they believed her and she didn't have to mention any more from 'Hogwarts: A History.'
"Right," Harry said, and as subtly as they could, the Slytherins drew their wands and shifted to keep Astoria in the middle of the group. If there was trouble, they didn't want a first year to be the first in line for it.
Besides, Daphne would go on a rampage.
"Is it me, or did it just turn cold?" Neville asked.
Harry softly shook his head. He'd thought it was just his nerves, but Neville pointing it out confirmed it: The temperature had dropped. Harry pictured the summer he'd spent with the Greengrasses, the joy of being reunited with Nyx. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, though they weren't supposed to be on the train.
"Uh, guys," Neville squeaked from next to the window. Harry shot him a quick glance, and his stomach rolled when he realized what had Neville so nervous: The window had frosted over. The train suddenly shook and Hermione's cat hid instinctively behind his owner. Tracey's cat loomed and hissed territorially.
Harry reached for the communication mirror inside his pocket, and then-
A shadow that could've passed for Death itself floated into view. Harry moved his wand, opened his mouth to speak the spell, but found himself stopping. He couldn't remember his happy thought. His other hand loosened its grip on the mirror.
His mind filled with visions of Vernon beating him with his belt, of Dudley's Gang hunting him down in the streets and mauling him. His breathing quickened as he remembered Petunia sneering at his injuries. He'd thought she'd be reasonable once, considering she was his mother's sister, but Petunia never did help him. And then something else entirely. Harry saw a woman he recognized as Lily Potter from the photographs. A dark figure approached her, wand raised. There was a flash of green light, and then-
"Expecto Patronum!" several voices beside him yelled, and several wisps of light sprung up between the Dementor and them. The foul creature seemed more annoyed than anything, but his friends' incorporeal patronuses were enough to snap him out of his daze.
Harry focused on the Dementor, on the grotesque, faceless abomination beneath the tattered cloak, and instead of a happy thought, he focused rage. How dare this thing violate his mind like that? He couldn't allow such arrogance to go unpunished.
"Expecto Patronum!" What must've looked like a bullet of white light shot forth from his wand, but Harry had called upon his Patronus enough times to know otherwise. The tadpole-like Patronus latched onto the Dementor like a predator spotting prey, sinking its rows of sharp teeth into the Dark creature's neck.
No one seemed able to form words as they watched the Dementor's awful claws reach up to pull the glowing leech off its neck, but it couldn't touch the alien-looking Patronus any more than it could pass through the white mist protecting Harry and his friends.
Then, against everything Harry and everyone else in the compartment knew about them, the Dementor seemed to panic. It started to flail about trying to dislodge its pint-sized attacker, but the little tadpole would not come off. In fact, it looked to have burrowed partway into the Dementor's neck.
"Stop!" a screeching, low voice pleaded. It took Harry a moment to realize it was the Dementor's. "Make it stop!"
"Harry," Theo said in a warning tone. "Let it go. You don't want Fudge poking around your affairs."
But Harry wasn't listening. His teeth were bared in a grin that threatened to split his face in half. So this was what it felt like to have the powerful, the feared, at your mercy. Would he have this feeling once he brought Voldemort to his knees? Perhaps even Fudge? Or would it feel better?
"Harry!" Tracey's voice, which he couldn't ignore even as an Occlumens, called to him.
Harry blinked, realizing where he was. The Patronus had almost buried completely into the Dementor, with only its tail still visible. Harry willed it to disappear, the way he had on the multiple occasions he'd tried it out, but the thing refused to vanish, seemingly enjoying its meal too much to heed him.
"It's not listening to me!" Harry said.
"That's impossible!" Hermione said. "They're not supposed to have wills of their own!"
"You tell it that!" Harry shot back. "Finite Incantatem!"
His counterspell shot out of his wand and then fizzled out as it got close to the Dementor.
"You've got to be shitting me!" Harry yelled. "Oi, Dementor, turn off your magic immunity so I can banish it!"
"I can't!" the Dementor rasped. "Do something before-"
The Patronus managed to completely burrow itself into the Dementor. The creature spasmed, grasping at the second hole in its head before releasing a sound so piercing, so awful, that Harry's head felt like it'd explode.
The Dementor's screams grew louder, until eventually, they stopped. Or rather, Harry could no longer hear them, because he and everyone else in the compartment had lost consciousness.
Chapter 14: Welcome Back to Hogwarts
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry shot up with a start, grasping for his wand and finding it a few inches away from him on the floor of the compartment.
"Easy there," a man's voice spoke, gentle and kind. "You're finally awake. We'll be in Hogsmeade soon. How are you feeling?"
Harry blinked as he tried to process the barrage of questions in his head. In front of him was a thin man with tired-looking eyes, though he seemed oddly in control despite his physical weariness. Luckily for Harry, the man's question was much easier to answer than the ones he had.
"Like I just had part of my soul sucked out," Harry quipped. "You're the new Defense Professor?"
It was the thin man's turn to blink, surprised by the sudden question. "Er, yes, Remus Lupin. How did you-"
"Why else would an adult be on the train?" Harry pointed out, then regretted it. He shouldn't have been so blunt to a Professor on their first meeting. He tried to get up but found Daphne's arm draped over him. She looked so peaceful he almost didn't want to wake her up.
"Ah, right," Lupin said. "Well, could you help me get your friends awake? The incantation is-"
"Renervate," Harry finished for him. "Don't worry. I can cast it."
He cast the spell on Daphne first, figuring she'd like to have some dignity by not being the last to wake up, draped over him as she was. Then she started helping them cast the spell, and then Theo did, and so on until all of them were awake.
"Here," Lupin said, handing out bars of chocolate. "It'll help."
Harry did as told, biting into the chocolate. He figured Voldemort had already tried using the Defense Professor to infiltrate Hogwarts and wouldn't attempt it again.
His summer with the Greengrasses might've ruined most chocolate for him, but Lupin's was serviceable. Besides, chocolate was chocolate.
"Would you mind telling me what happened?" Lupin asked.
"Dementor came," Harry supplied before Hermione or Neville could. "Drove it off with Patronuses, but then the thing started screaming."
Lupin looked disturbed. "Screaming? You must be mistaken. I've never heard of a Dementor screaming before. Hold on. Patronuses? You don't look older than fourth years."
"Third, actually."
Harry felt groggy and impatient after waking up, so he signalled for his friends to produce Incorporeals. Theo, Daphne, and Tracey did, recreating the white mist that had held the Dementor off long enough for Harry to produce his, which he didn't care to demonstrate to this new professor. Especially not if what he remembered happening actually happened.
Lupin looked on them with wide-eyed wonder. "That's incredibly advanced. Most adults can't even- Wait. Where did you learn to do this?"
"Self-study," Daphne answered.
"Willow Potter warned us about the Dementors," Tracey added. "You know she lives with Madam Bones, yes?"
Harry had no doubt Willow actually had warned Tracey about the Dementors, but he'd certainly warned everyone in his circle first chance he got.
"Ah, right, Amelia took her in," Lupin said, then stopped. "But aren't you all Slytherins?"
"Not at all, Professor," Hermione answered. "Neville and I are Gryffindors."
"And I'm a Hufflepuff," Justin added.
"Yes, we know, we're missing a Ravenclaw," Blaise said. "We're working on it. Maybe next year."
Lupin had the most confused look on his face and Harry had a hard time not looking smug. In the end, Lupin just said, "It's good to see you're making friends outside your houses."
"What was the Dementor doing aboard?" Harry asked.
"Dementors," Lupin corrected. "There was another one further up. Fortunately, I was nearby and managed to repel it."
Harry filed away the little tidbit that Lupin could cast a Patronus capable of warding a Dementor off solo for later. "What did they want?"
"They were looking for Sirius Black," Lupin answered. "Or so they claim. I highly doubt Sirius would be stupid enough to board the Hogwarts Express. It's hardly the only way to go to Hogwarts."
Sirius? Not Black? And Lupin was making calls about whether or not something was too stupid for Black to do? Lupin was giving away an awful lot of information for free.
"Were you in Gryffindor, by any chance, sir?" Harry tried to make it sound as curious as he could.
"Why, yes, I was," Lupin said. "How did you-"
"Well, you said you heroically stopped the other Dementor," Harry answered, trying not to smirk. "So, I figured."
"Have you considered applying as an auror, er,-" Lupin's eyes narrowed, seemed to focus on Harry's face for the first time, and then- "James?"
"Harry, actually. No one calls me James, though I guess it is on my birth certificate," Harry answered.
"I am so sorry," Lupin said. "I feel like a fool. I should've recognized you."
It was Harry's turn to feel confused. "Beg your pardon, sir?"
"Ah, I was a close friend of James' and Lily's," Lupin explained. "I was there when you were born."
"Did you know I was alive?" The question carried a lot less friendliness than his last one. Did Lupin know where Harry had been living for a decade?
"Not until you showed up in Hogwarts, no," Lupin said. "I am sorry, Harry."
Harry heaved a long sigh. "Nothing to forgive, Professor. Thank you for coming down here to check on us. I'd hate to think what pranks other students might've pulled if they'd found us unsconscious first."
That seemed to brighten Lupin's day. "My pleasure, Harry. Oh, and maybe I should've mentioned this earlier, but the other Dementor affected your sister a bit more than normal. She's fine now, but if you wanted to see her-"
"Of course," Harry said. "Would you mind taking me to her, Professor?"
"I was on my way back anyway," Lupin said. "Her friends and I shared a compartment."
Theo and Tracey trailed after him without a word. Normally, Daphne would've covered him instead of Tracey, considering they'd trained together all summer, but she had a younger sister she needed to guard. And Tracey, well, Tracey was an obvious choice for multiple reasons.
Ten seconds later, Hermione and Neville caught up to them, saying they should probably join the other Gryffindors for dinner, anyway.
They didn't walk long. Willow's group had taken a compartment two cars up from Harry's. Unlike his, only Willow was in the middle of eating some chocolate, and that spoke volumes to Harry.
"Hey there, Willow," Lupin said. "Feeling better?"
"I am, Remu- er, Professor," Willow answered. She looked paler than usual, but still managed to keep her voice even. "Thanks for your help. Again."
Remus? Willow knew Lupin? Since when? Then again, Harry reasoned, it made sense they'd have met at least once. Willow hadn't been thought dead for ten years.
"You sure?" Tracey asked. Her tone was teasing, but Harry and, he suspected, his sister, knew better.
"She said she's fine," Ronald said sharply, entirely missing the context. "You trying to spread nasty rumors again? Damn leech."
Harry let out a sharp breath. It had taken all of his self control not to hex him right there.
Should I make him think he's covered in spiders again? Nyx offered.
When we're on our way back, Harry answered.
"Ron, that's no way to talk to her!" Willow said, and Harry knew she wasn't just saying it because it's what people expected her to say. "Apologize."
"I'm not apologizing to some-"
"Mister Weasley," Lupin cut in. "Apologize, or I'll be forced to give you detention before the year even starts."
Ron gaped like a fish out of water, and then said, "Sorry."
"And you'll be joining me on Monday night for detention," Lupin added.
"What? But I-" Ron sputtered. "You said-"
"That I'd be forced to send you to detention if you didn't apologize?" Lupin repeated. "Well, you did, so now I'm doing it not because I'm forced to, but because I will not tolerate slurs against fine wizards and witches because of things that were never in their control."
Did Lupin just admit to knowing Tracey was a half-vampire? But how did- Harry's train of thought didn't finish, because the actual train had come to a stop.
"Ah, looks like we're here," Lupin pointed out, in case people were lacking as many brain cells as Ronald was. "Harry, maybe you and Willow should go see Madam Pomfrey during the Sorting. Your friends, too, considering how badly the Dementors affected you."
Harry wished he'd stopped the sentence at 'too,' but Lupin wasn't a Slytherin. The students in the car didn't need to know Harry's Circle had been knocked out.
"I can take them after the Ceremony," Harry answered. "We know someone among the First Years so we'd like to be there for her Sorting."
"Oh, alright, then," Lupin said.
Tell Willow's Fairy I'll catch up to Willow after dinner, Harry communicated.
On it, Harry.
After saying their goodbyes, Harry, Theo, and Tracey turned on their heels and back towards their group, but not before they all heard Ronald screaming about being devoured by spiders.
It was a wonder people didn't study Occlumency as a required subject. Perhaps the Ministry discouraged it, so they could more easily get answers out of people.
Once they were back to their friends, Harry refreshed the privacy spells on the compartment and asked the first of many questions on his mind:
"What happened with my Patronus and the Dementor?" he asked.
No immediate answers. Not surprising, since Harry's Slytherin friends didn't fancy guesses that could later be proven wrong and make them look bad.
"Well, it kinda looked like it was eating the Dementor," Justin suggested.
"Which should be impossible," Theo pointed out. "I've heard of powerful Patronuses assaulting Dementors, but never eating them."
"Right, but did anyone see what happened before they got knocked out?" Harry pressed.
"I caught a bit," Tracey offered. "The last thing I remember is the glow of your Patronus vanished right about the same time you dropped, and then the Dementor bolted. Looked as freaked out as a Dementor could."
"Well, at least I know the thing won't wreak havoc while I'm unconscious," Harry muttered.
"Surprised it ran," Justin observed.
"I meant my Patronus," Harry said with a half-smile.
"Oh."
"You can't ever be normal, can you?" Blaise asked with a teasing grin.
"It seems not," Harry admitted. "But then, if I wanted to be normal, I would've gone to Hufflepuff. No offense, Justin."
Justin snickered. "None taken. That's why I went there, after all."
The Great Hall should've been the same as ever, but none of the usual cheer of the welcoming feast could be found. It seemed the Dementors boarding the train had caused no small amount of discomfort for most of the students.
To the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs, they were Dark creatures who should be destroyed. For the Slytherins, they were the jailors of certain family members. How vile must these creature be, Harry wondered, that they were hated by both Dark and Light?
A small detail stole Harry's throughts from the Dementors. Well, perhaps not a small detail, exactly: Hagrid was seated close to the professors on the faculty table, looking as nervous as when they'd tried to pump him for information on the Basilisk.
Harry wondered what that was about. The Sorting ceremony wasn't all that interesting aside from Astoria getting Sorted into Slytherin. He knew she'd be getting the talk about Slytherin House Rules from a Prefect later even though he was sure Daphne already drilled her on the stuff beforehand. The chances of a Greengrass getting Sorted elsewhere were apparently slim, indeed.
When the Sorting was over, Dumbledore rose and silently called the students' attention. "Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts! As always, I have a few announcements to make before we dig in. The first, many of you are already aware of, no doubt."
Harry was pretty sure he knew what that one was about.
"This year, Dementors from Azkaban will be stationed around the school as a precaution against Sirius Black, who recently escaped from prison," Dumbledore said. "Now, I have made it clear to Minister Fudge that they will not be allowed on the grounds, but make no mistake. These are Dark creatures. Give them no reason to approach you."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. After the scene on the train, he'd prefer if they stayed out of each other's way. Hopefully, that one Dementor would warn the rest that he was bad for them and vice versa.
"In a more positive light," Dumbledore continued. "I am happy to announce two new faculty members joining Hogwarts. First, Professor Remus Lupin will be taking over for Defense Against the Dark Arts." Lupin stood and there was applause from the tables, with the loudest coming from Gryffindor.
"And second, our own dear Rubeus Hagrid will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures after Professor Kettleburn, who announced his retirement last year."
Hagrid stood, his large frame hitting the table on his way up. It would've been disastrous if there'd already been food on it.
"That explains the textbook," Harry grumbled. He'd had to stun his after it attacked him in his room, though he'd found it amusing. Considered loading a dozen in the Prydwen and dropping them on an enemy.
"The oaf is teaching?" Draco's voice whined from somewhere to Harry's right. "Wait until-"
"Your father hears about this," Daphne said in a mocking tone. "We know."
Harry personally didn't have feelings about Hagrid becoming a Professor. He clearly knew a lot about Magical Creatures. Whether or not he was professional enough, however - Then again, Snape was a Professor, too, he reminded himself.
At least he could never say his Hogwarts years were ever boring.
The group, once again including Hermione, Neville, and Justin, split up from most students after dinner to get themselves examined at the Hospital Wing. They let Astoria go ahead to the common room to be briefed by the Slytherin Prefects. Before parting, however, he made it clear to everyone he'd rather not have them telling anyone about how his Patronus interacted with the Dementor.
They weren't surprised to find Willow and Susan already at the Hospital Wing, with the former going through a check-up like Lupin suggested. She waved at him, but didn't say anything, as Madam Pomfrey was currently checking her breathing.
"You seem fine now," Madam Pomfrey stated shortly after. "You can have a bit of my Pick-Me-Up if you'd like." She took one of the vials of her personal blend of low-strength Wiggenweld and offered it.
"I'll take it, thank you," Willow answered.
"So, what was your Dementor like?" Harry asked.
"Harrowing," Willow said simply. "I wish the Ministry would see sense and throw the damn things in a volcano or something."
"I'd bet on the volcano freezing," Harry pointed out. Dementors were supposedly invulnerable. He'd believed as much until he'd witnessed his Patronus biting into one.
"True, but it'd make me feel a whole lot better," Willow admitted.
"Now, now, sister, I'm the Slytherin Potter," Harry teased. "Young heroines shouldn't be plotting vengeance. What would Albus think?"
"Oh, sod off, Harry," she said. "You'd do something similar or worse. How was yours?"
"Pretty bad," he said before anyone could say anything else. "And we had Patronuses up."
"Wait. You can-"
"The others put up Incorporeals," Harry said, not actually saying he hadn't conjured one himself. "Still made us all weak, though."
"Fudge should've listened to Aunt Amelia," Willow muttered, shaking her head.
"No argument there," Harry said. "Well, you should probably get going. We'll be a while. Lots of us, after all."
"Right. See you in class, Harry."
"See you."
As he'd expected, Madam Pomfrey couldn't find anything wrong with them besides a few scrapes from when they'd fallen unconscious. She quickly sent them on their way, but instead of immediately splitting up, they headed for the Lakescape room. The Prefects were all busy managing the new students, after all.
"Maybe you should tell Professor Lupin," Hermione suggested. "He seems to be a friend to your family."
"That the Patronus of the Slytherin Potter has a taste for Dementors?" Harry asked. "Yeah, the staff will take that well."
"Speaking of Lupin," Daphne interjected. "I suppose you want a rundown on him?"
Harry smiled. Good old Daph. "Yes, please."
"The short version is he was a friend of the Potters and Black," Daphne said. "And a staunch ally of Dumbledore's during the last war."
"Your father, Lupin, and Black had a fourth guy in their little club," Theodore chimed in. "Peter Pettigrew. The man Black killed along with a bunch of muggles before the Ministry caught him."
Harry made a thoughtful sound. "Why kill Pettigrew and not Lupin?"
"Nobody knows for sure," Theodore answered. "Father says there wasn't anything noteworthy about him besides Black killing him."
"I was going to say 'Fascinating,' but he sounds like the opposite of that," Harry answered. "Anyway, I'm sure Black is going to find his way inside somehow one of these days, so be careful."
"Reminds me of when we had to watch out for a killer Monster," Blaise observed.
"This could be worse, honestly," Harry pointed out. "At least we knew the Basilisk's objective. We're not entirely sure what Black wants."
Notes:
I kind of got lazy about re-reading 13 and 14 before uploading like I usually do since I'd just finished reading them yesterday, so tell me if I missed anything.
Also I noticed some of you are leaving kudos on all three of these in one day which makes me wonder how fast you guys read. This entire series is like 150k words so far. You could *probably* read it all in a day but that's... a lot.
Chapter 15: Ancient Runes, Ancient Place
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Study of Ancient Runes happened in a largely non-descript classroom Harry had never been in before. You might've thought it any other unused classroom if not for the few runestones kept in glass cases near the front of the class.
Professor Babbling had been waiting when they'd arrived. She was a rather intense-looking woman with black hair tied in a no-nonsense bun and a pair of hazel eyes behind silver-framed spectacles.
"Good morning, class, I bid you welcome to your first foray into Ancient Runes," she began. "I will say early on that there won't be a lot of the usual spellcasting in this elective, and that if you expected otherwise, you may wish to alter your course."
It reminded Harry a little bit of his first meeting with Snape.
She brought their attention to a cauldron sitting on her desk. It looked standard, like one you could purchase in any wizarding supplies store from the looks of it, and yet this particular cauldron stood out for a few highly visible, green-glowing reasons: It was covered in runes, written in some kind of luminiscent substance.
"However," Babbling went on. "If you have the patience to understand and apply the art of Runecraft, you can perform feats that might normally be beyond your ability to cast yourself."
She flicked her wand, and the runes caught flame. Smoke rose from the center of the cauldron, and then a long, red shape slithered out, followed by two more: Three snake heads, all gazing about as if trying to figure out where they were.
"Is that a Runespoor?" Hermione asked.
"Indeed, er, Miss Granger, was it?" Babbling replied. "Now, who can tell me what's so special about conjuring a Runespoor in this manner?"
Harry watched Hermione's hand shoot up. His didn't, but not because he didn't know. He of all people knew the answer, given his reliance on the Snake Summons spell.
"How about you, Mister Potter?" Babbling suggested. "As I recall from Gilderoy's stories about his short-lived dueling club, you're no stranger to summoning serpents."
Harry put an easy smile on his face. He supposed there wasn't a way he could've avoided having a reputation for it. He relied on snake summons too much. "A Runespoor is a Magical Creature. Creating one with Serpensortia requires a tremendous amount of effort."
"Five points to Slytherin," she said. "That is correct. Magical Creatures and objects are far more complex to conjure than their mundane counterparts, but with the use of Runes, it becomes possible to perform such feats even if one lacks the strength of magic to do so normally."
The lecture, disappointingly, reverted to the historic usage of runes, which Harry was already familiar with from his textbooks. Still, if he hadn't been fascinated by the elective before, he was now.
He could only imagine what kinds of nasty surprises he could conjure, store in the Prydwen or Clarent, then unleash at a later date. He knew he'd be graduating from using Neville-patented Potions accidents as ammunition at some point, but he didn't think it'd be so soon.
He'd need a bigger, sturdier workshop than the Lakescape room. Good thing Salazar Slytherin had been willing to provide.
"Right. Is this all of us?" Harry asked, pointing the question at Daphne: He wanted to know whether or not she was getting her sister mixed up with their lot or not.
He and his non-Gryffindor friends were gathered in the Lakescape Room, but that had only been their meeting place. Harry had other plans.
"Still not bringing Hermione and Neville?" Daphne asked, in a tone that asked 'You never change, do you?'
Harry looked at her with mild surprise. He didn't think Daphne, who once refused to sit with Hermione over being a muggleborn, would be the one asking him if he was sure he wanted to keep their friends out of the loop again.
She was right, though. He'd told them he would keep them looped in from then on. "I'll go get them."
"You know where they are?" Ginny asked.
"It's Hermione," Justin said. "Where else would she be?"
He came back fifteen minutes later with the two Gryffindors in tow. He'd obviously gotten them from the library, since Hermione practically lived there and Neville spent most of his time around friends, which, besides them and Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff, happened to be Hermione.
"So, what did you want to talk about Harry?" Neville asked.
"Okay, whatever you do, you cannot, absolutely cannot tell anyone about this. Are we clear?" Harry spoke.
"That's kind of standard procedure with you, isn't it?" Hermione said.
"We won't tell," Neville added.
Harry nodded. He turned to a blank piece of wall opposite the exit of the Lakescape room, and said, "In the name of Salazar Slytherin, I command you: Take me to the Dungeons."
There was a sound of stone scraping against stone as the wall shifted aside, and a narrow staircase that he knew would lead all the way to the Slytherin Dungeons.
"What the-" Neville began. "How long has that been there?"
"Since fifteen seconds ago," Theo answered.
"Pull the other one, mate."
"He's serious," Tracey said. "There wasn't a secret passage there."
"You know how the staircases move around all the time?" Harry asked. "And how you could get lost in the upper corridors for weeks if you're not careful?"
Hermione nodded. "The castle shifts, we all know that, but you can't just order it to move around. You'd have to be -"
Hermione stopped, likely figuring out what Harry was trying to say.
"Merlin," Neville said. It seemed he'd caught on, too.
Harry snickered. "No, Neville, I'm not Merlin. Try again."
"You're the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione asked. "How? Why? Since when?"
Harry's lips curled up into a smirk. "I'm the Heritor of Slytherin, actually. And the answer is: shortly after I killed Riddle."
"You inherited it when you killed him?" Hermione asked.
"Not exactly," Harry answered. "There were extra steps to it."
The brown-haired girl's eyes narrowed at him. "So it's not some kind of curse? You did this willingly?"
"It was this or die while Hogwarts was flooded by a deluge of serpents," Harry explained. Daphne elbowed him sharply. It would've hurt more if not for the armor he wore under his robes. "Okay, okay. Yes, technically, I was going to die if I didn't accept it, but uh, I did go out of my way to try and become Heritor."
"Without telling the rest of us in advance," Daphne reminded him.
He shrugged and looked at Hermione and Neville's faces to gauge how they felt. Hermione seemed a little cross, but Neville just looked confused.
"Heritor? Don't you mean-" Neville began.
"No, he means Heritor," Justin supplied. "He's changing the title so he doesn't get lumped in with the Monster that tried to kill everyone."
"And you figured out how to take control of Slytherin's legacy how, exactly?" Hermione asked.
"I might've had some help," Harry admitted.
"From?"
"The ghost of the Monster that tried to kill everyone."
"Is he joking?" Hermione asked, looking at the other Slytherins. "I can't tell sometimes."
"As far as we know, he isn't," Theo answered. "Though we haven't met this ghost yet, no. Haven't been down there, either."
"Right," Harry said. "First time for you lot. Come on."
They all clambered down the staircase until they were all in it, and then the stairs started to move downwards, like a drill digging into the earth. It dropped them off in the dungeons, almost exactly in front of the nondescript wall that served as an entrance into the Chamber of Secrets. The passage from the Lakescape Room then closed up after them, as if it had never been there.
"Open," Harry spoke in Parseltongue. He'd thought Hermione and Neville would have surprised looks of betrayal, but they seemed more resigned to all this than anything else.
They climbed into the second staircase, which once again brought them lower, only this ride was longer, and took them to the left of Salazar Slytherin's statue in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Welcome, for those of you who've never been down here," Harry began. "To the Chamber of Secrets."
"Harry Jamesss Potter," a voice whispered. "You have returned."
Harry momentarily froze, thinking he was having another visit from the Observer. Then, he realized who was talking and mentally kicked himself. The number of beings who used his full name could be counted on one hand, and neither of them were human.
"Quetzal, where are you?" he hissed. "Come, meet my friendsss."
The gleaming, white head of a great serpent rose out of the water. It was an alien sight, really, as her incorporeal form didn't actually break the surface of the pool when she ascended.
"Ah, everyone, meet Quetzal," Harry spoke for the benefit of those who weren't Parselmouths. "The custodian of the Chamber of Secrets."
"We've met," Justin said dryly.
Fuck. That was right. She'd been the one who- Harry needed to do damage control.
"She's sorry about that," Harry said. He was technically lying. He hadn't talked to her much about the attacks. "She wasn't herself. Riddle had control of her."
"Water under the bridge, Harry," Justin said, smirking. "I'm the one who came out of that year alive."
He introduced his friends to the Basilisk Ghost, and informed her Ginny and Daphne could speak Parseltongue.
"You are truly ssstrange," the Basilisk said. "Some of the previousss heirsss would bring partnersss to the bed chamber but thisss isss too many."
Harry suddenly really wished Ginny and Daphne couldn't understand her.
"She'sss right, Harry," Daphne hissed. "This isss a lot of people. No wonder you won't asssk me out. Can't be sssatisfied by one, huh?"
"Ssso thisss isss why you practiced flying with me," Ginny chimed in. "Fred and George were right. You're a bad influence."
"To think my Massster isss sssuch a beassst," Nyx added.
"Sssod off," Harry answered, trying to maintain his composure.
The others couldn't understand what they were talking about, exactly, but they could probably guess from Harry's dismay and Daphne and Ginny's smug faces.
"I thought he was in charge," Neville said in a stage whisper to Tracey.
"We just let him think that so he's easier to control," Tracey stage whispered back.
Harry pushed his palm againt his forehead and groaned. It was going to be a long tour.
Harry - well, Quetzal, really - took the group to see the various wings inside the Chamber. The three human Parselmouths translated for those who couldn't speak snake.
They had to drag Hermione out of Salazar's library before she accidentally set off any of the protections. He had, predictably, gotten teasing snickers from everyone but Hermione when he confessed he didn't know what the handcuffs in the Master Bedroom were for. Yes, including Neville.
And no, they still didn't tell him what they were for.
The Potions lab, Magical Creatures lab and Enchanted Smelter had many of the others in awe, though the Gryffindors seemed affronted by the idea of magically altering living things. Harry thought Justin would be against it, too, but he seemed fascinated by the lab, if anything.
They all parted for a bit to explore whichever areas interested them most, and in the end, Harry was left with only Daphne, Ginny, and Justin in the Magical Creatures lab.
"Say, did they ever get you caught up?" Ginny suddenly asked Justin while inspecting one of the empty glass cages.
"As well as they could," Justin answered. "A little hard cramming most of a schoolyear into summer, but I made it work."
"Well, if you need help with anything," Harry chimed in. "Just tell us."
"Standing offer?" Justin asked.
Harry scoffed. "Of course. What are friends for? Thanks for earlier, by the way."
Justin smiled innocently. "Beg your pardon?"
"For taking initiative with Quetzal," Harry said. "So Hermione and Neville couldn't object to my being friends with the Basilisk."
Justin smirked. "Well, what are friends for?" he echoed back.
"You're really alright with it?" Harry asked.
He shrugged. "She's dead, and from what you told me it's like she was Imperiused, sort of. We're not exactly staking Tracey's heart for being controlled by a madman, so fair is fair."
Harry snorted. "No, I guess we're not. Oh, yeah, I just remembered. Old Salazar apparently left some of his experiments preserved in the other room. Quetzal really wanted me to take one as a Familiar. I think she considers them her siblings."
"But you didn't?" Ginny asked.
Harry shook his head. "One Familiar almost drained my magic. I'm midly afraid of taking another. So, I was wondering if one of you wanted one?"
"They're all snakes?" Ginny asked.
"So Quetzal told me," Harry answered.
"Can't," she said. "Mum would have a fit. Besides, it might eat Scabbers."
"Who?"
Ginny's forehead furrowed a bit. "Family rat? Ron hasn't shown him to- Right, why would he?"
"Ronald is the only Weasley rat I know of," Harry said. As if he could remember something as unimportant as a rat. He couldn't even recall Blabbe and Doyle's names half the time.
"I'll take one," Daphne answered.
Harry nodded. He'd expected that. "Justin?"
"Already got one," he answered.
"Really?" Harry asked. "I didn't see it on the train."
"Their appearance tends to unsettle people, so I keep them in my trunk," Justin admitted. "Besides, it's nice having an ace up my sleeve no one can see."
Harry frowned. "Are they here right now?"
"Dioscuria," Justin spoke. "Reveal yourself."
A creature out of - well, not Harry's nightmares. Harry saw a gigantic glowing eye in his dreams, but the large, four-legged creature that seemed to step out of the shadows looked like it definitely belonged in someone's nightmares. It was difficult to make anything out beyond its shape, since dark smoke seemed to coil perpetually around it.
"What is he? It? They?" Harry asked. Daphne and Ginny looked slightly more bothered. The former had adopted a ready stance and the latter took a few steps back from the shadowy figure.
"They are my Familiar, duh," Justin said casually.
Harry gave him a blank stare.
"Fine. They're a Witch Dog," Justin answered.
"I've never heard of a creature like that," Daphne said.
"Witch Dogs aren't magical," Justin said with some amusement. "They're a breed of wild dog from the East that can climb trees and hunt snakes. The Muggles reasoned they were magical in nature. You can guess the rest."
As if to demonstrate, the Familiar flexed its paws, and even through the swirling shadow, Harry could make out sharp claws on its legs.
"But clearly there's more to this than just that," Harry said, observing the hound's tail which seemed to sway with a life of its own.
Justin grinned as if he'd been complimented. "Transfigured the tail into a spitting cobra's head before I bound it to me. As for the rest, blame the Essence Binding."
"Merlin, what'd you feed them? A Dementor?"
"Nah, a bit of Lethifold, Phoenix, Thestral, Dragon, some other stuff."
Harry's jaw dropped open. "Wha- how-"
"Really?" Justin asked, looking surprised. "You mean you didn't figure out a way to get past the 'only once' clause? I was sure this was something you would do."
Harry shook his head slowly. No, he had not. In fact, his Essence Binding had gone so badly it killed Nyx.
"I used a mixture of various Magical Creature parts," Justin explained. "Just put all of the ingredients into a dummy Potion that doesn't actually do anything so they're technically one substance, and then poof: Dioscuria."
"How did you even get the ingredients?" Daphne asked. Her tone was even, but Harry knew she was in awe, too. "I know your family's wealthy, but that must've cost a fortune."
Justin grinned. "I see the magical community doesn't know about arbitrage."
"Harry, what is he talking about?" Daphne asked.
"I have no clue," Harry admitted. "Probably a Muggle business thing."
"It's taking advantage of a price difference between two or more mark- er, places where you can buy and sell things," Justin explained. "You're right. Dragon materials are incredibly expensive. Same with Phoenix and Unicorn and so on. But you know what isn't expensive?"
The answer clicked in Harry's head and suddenly he felt like he understood Justin's scheme. "Wands."
Justin smiled. "Ah, good. You did just need a little push. That's right. Wands. Especially faulty wands. Ollivander doesn't advertise it, but sometimes the wandmaking doesn't go as planned. He keeps all those junk wands in the back. I just asked if I could have a few. Paid full price for each."
Harry groaned. "Seven Galleons for a dragon heartstring is a bargain, yeah."
Why hadn't he thought of that?
"And the rest you can buy as Potions ingredients," Justin said. "Except the Lethifold skin. That one cost a bit. Worth it, though, all things considered."
"Okay, but why a normal dog?" Ginny asked.
"Didn't want to risk being a Squib," Justin answered. "Nonmagical animals are easier to bind, so I did just that. Made up for it with the ingredients, since I could afford it."
"And now you've got a Familiar with sharp senses, magic resistance, and both sharp claws and teeth," Harry mused. "And a prehensile tail that can spit venom."
The crafty Hufflepuff nodded. "Exactly. I probably could have come up with something better with a bit more time, but a Witch Dog seemed like a powerful enough chassis for a personal bodyguard."
Something about how Justin used the word 'chassis' to describe the dog that existed before it became the Familiar didn't sit well with Harry. He'd treated Nyx like a person even before she'd been bound, but he wasn't sure he could say the same for Justin.
He couldn't stop himself from thinking about how elaborately Justin had designed his Familiar, either. He'd even given it a serpent head for a tail so it could take advantage of the groups' abundant parselmouths. Hell, he had a feeling Dioscuria could take down a grown wizard with little issue.
Then again, Harry reasoned, he'd chosen his Familiar based on input from Hagrid. Maybe if Harry had known Voldemort would be after him and Willow back then, he'd have gotten something more combat-capable.
The Basilisk Fang incident, though, that had been plain stupid.
"It'sss okay, Harry," Nyx said. "At leassst I'm prettier."
Harry offered her a half-smile as he regarded the grim-looking witch dog. "That'sss true."
Notes:
1.) Don't think you can find a wiki page for Witch Dog but I basically came across a random article about these living in the southern part of the Philippines last year and thought they were kinda cool. Remembered them again when I was thinking 'Hmmm what nonmagical animal should Justin's Familiar be?'
2.) Harry's Circle is slowly turning into team of Pokemon trainers which was not my intention but it is what it is. I wrote a Pokemon fic where they had wizards once, you know, but like, I wasn't very good at writing back then. Dunno if I'll ever come back to it.
3.) We running low on supply, so from now on I'm only uploading single chapters until the whole thing goes up. Probably no update on Tuesday. Not sure about tomorrow. I still have to actually write like the final aftermath chapter of the story.
4.) I wanna change the name of the series because the one right now is kinda WIP-sounding. Idk what to change it to without spoiling anything for new readers, though.
Chapter 16: Lord Slytherin
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Daphne
She should've felt awed. Humbled, even. She was standing in the secret chamber of Slytherin House's founder. However, Daphne Greengrass was merely impressed. Harry had told them all about the Chamber's facilities at the end of second year, and that might've affected how she felt, already having an idea of what would be inside before even stepping in it.
Still, she thought, as she observed several dozen eggs magically preserved in individual glass cases, that wasn't it. No. She wasn't blown away not because Harry had already spoiled what would be inside, but because, looking at these creatures Salazar had concocted during his lifetime, she realized Salazar and Harry had similar brands of either madness or genius. Daphne could not tell which.
They both read texts on obscure magic, both had a fascination with enchanted objects and Potions. And to top it all off, they both performed experiments on snakes using magic. That realization had her in awe far more than the actual Chamber.
It was as if Harry was Salazar Slyherin reborn, if you discounted the weirdness of his Patronus and the fever dreams that involved giant eyeballs and mysterious old men.
"Alright," she said in Parseltongue, "How do I do thisss?"
The pale, translucent form of the Baselisk Ghost Harry had affectionately named Quetzal slithered straight through the wall and to her side.
"The egg will choossse you," Quetzal hissed. "At the far ssside of the room, there isss a basssin of liquid prepared by the Creator. You will consume a cup, and then the Creator will guide you."
Daphne frowned. "Sssalazar Ssslytherin will guide me?"
"Yesss," Quetzal answered. "Previousss Heirsss have done it."
And that was why Daphne was frowning. "But I'm not the Heir."
"Heritor," Harry corrected from behind her. He'd accompanied her, but since he knew less about this room than Quetzal did, he allowed the ghost to take the lead.
"Not helping," Daphne hissed at him before turning back to Quetzal. "Can I really do thisss?"
"Ssshould not be a problem," Quetzal answered. "Only I and the Ark were made to keep raidersss out."
"Harry, if I die, I'm going to haunt you," Daphne said.
"You would," Harry answered. It carried a hint of levity, though she could tell he was as nervous as she was. "Though there'sss probably worssse things to be haunted by."
"Maybe you two should kisss," Nyx said. "Just in cassse."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'd rather not at all than make it sssomething so clichéd."
"Why aren't you two dating again?" Ginny asked.
"Becaussse Harry can fight a Dark Lord, but he can't asssk a girl out," Nyx answered.
"Could've fooled me," Ginny said.
Harry, to Daphne's annoyance, had completely clammed up on the subject.
"Fine, I'll go," Daphne said.
"Is it weird that I can't speak snake but I know you're all making fun of Harry?" Justin asked.
"No, because you're having your snake dog thing translate," Ginny remarked.
Justin smirked. "Guilty."
Daphne grinned, then shuffled past the rows of glass cases and stopped at the basin Quetzal mentioned. It was a surprisingly shallow stone bowl with clear liquid inside. She didn't need to cast any spells to know it was enchanted never to run out (it had been centuries) or that the liquid was clearly some kind of potion.
There was a small stone cup at the side, but she grimaced at it and took out a small ceramic cup from her own trunk instead. Daphne took one last look at the liquid, wondered if having a Familiar from Salazar Slytherin would really be worth the risk, and swallowed a cupful before gulping it down.
Harry
"What'sss going on?" he asked, his tone urgent.
Daphne had consumed a cup of the liquid and then stopped moving. She stood frozen, cup still in hand, eyes unblinking but clearly glazed over.
"Ssshe isss communing with the Creator," Quetzal answered. "Worry not. I have ssseeen it before."
"Communing?" Harry repeated. "What? Are they having a tea party or sssomething?"
Daphne found herself standing in the drawing room in Greengrass Manor. Her right hand still gripped the cup she'd used to drink the liquid from the basin, but where the liquid had once been clear, it was now a familiar, rich brown that gave off a smell she'd know anywhere.
"You prefer chocolate to tea, yes?" a gruff-sounding male voice spoke from in front of her.
Daphne blinked. Where she'd once been alone, a man with a white beard that reached past his neck (but not as badly as Dumbledore's) now sat across from her. His head was balding, with only a bit of gray hair at the sides left. He looked at her with piecing gray eyes. She'd recognize him anywhere, of course. His portrait was in the Dungeons near the fake entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, after all.
"That is correct, Lord Slytherin," Daphne answered, doing her best to stay cool. This was some kind of Potion-induced hallucination, after all, not the actual-
"Oh, I am the actual Slytherin," Salazar spoke. "Or what's left of him. Sit, sit. This is your home, after all. I'm merely a guest."
She did as told, taking the seat she'd used when Harry had asked her about Black during the summer.
"You're reading my mind," Daphne said, though she tried not to sound as offended as she actually was. "My Occlumency can't even detect it."
The Slytherin Founder smiled. "Because I am not reading it from outside. I am in it. You invited me when you drank my little tonic."
"So, the talking is more of a formality than anything, is it?" she asked.
"Yes, but as a courtesy to the daughter of such a noble family, I will limit reading your thoughts for when you don't supply an answer quickly enough. You are a member of the House I founded, too, after all."
She sipped her chocolate. It was the same as what they had at home. "The gesture is appreciated, Lord Slytherin."
"Then, let us begin. Heir Greengrass, you are not my Heir, so what are you doing in my Chamber?"
"Your actual Heir invited me," Daphne answered. "Along with others."
"That, I can understand," Salazar said. "But why are you looking for a Familiar among the ones I left for my Heirs?"
"Power," Daphne answered simply, knowing Salazar valued cunning and ambition. "I wished to get stronger."
"To match the Half-Blood boy?"
"To exceed him, hopefully," Daphne said. "His Familiar is a Fairy. She's hardly a great asset in terms of battle or prestige."
"You truly think he's my second coming, then?" Salazar asked, his face a blank mask.
"I meant no disrespect. I only noticed you two have rather similar interests," she answered. She took a sip of her chocolate. "Though he is a Half-Blood."
"So was my last Heir," Salazar replied. "And he became the second greatest Dark Lord the world has ever seen."
"Second?"
"Think of what Gellert Grindelwald has done," Salazar said. "Compared to him, this Voldemort seems rather small-minded, don't you think?"
Daphne blinked. "I suppose you're right, Lord Slytherin."
It honestly made sense for the Ministry to inflate the actual threat Voldemort posed, considering they'd beaten him. Grindelwald had been a problem for at least two continents. Voldemort had only threatened Britain before Willow Potter defeated him. Whatever danger he might truly have become, he never got there.
"But enough about my Heirs," Salazar said. "I believe we were discussing you. See, when my Heirs come here, I am content to meet them and then offer up one of my creations in exchange."
"But I'm not one of your Heirs," Daphne said. "Still, isn't that deal a bit generous? They only have to-"
Daphne stopped. Salazar had known about Grindelwald despite dying almost a thousand years ago, and he'd known about Voldemort, too. Not to mention for someone so old Salazar spoke surprisingly modern English.
The Slytherin Founder suddenly looked quite smug indeed. "I see you've figured out the price I normally charge."
"Your Heirs are your only gateway to learn about the outside world," Daphne said.
"Until you, that is. But yes, my Heirs provide me with memories of what the world is like centuries after my fall," Salazar said. "But for you, a little extra is required: A trial for Daphne Alchemilla Nymphea Greengrass."
Daphne frowned. She hated when people used her full name, even more than Theo did. "What do you want me to-"
Suddenly, the drawing room dissolved like a wet painting doused by a jet of water. Daphne brandished her wand and took up a ready stance as the environment reshaped itself into the Chamber of Secrets. She was standing in the main chamber, with the statue of Salazar Slytherin behind her, as if to say he was in her corner.
But whatever confidence such a gesture might have inspired quickly faded as she registered whom she was facing: Her mother, father, and Astoria all bound and gagged on the ground in front of her.
"Diffindo!" she cried out, expertly shooting the spell at her mother's bonds, but the rope seemed to regenerate before her very eyes.
"What is this?" she asked, her voice cold with fury.
"I wonder, Heir Greengrass," Salazar's voice echoed from all around. "Are you the equal of my last Heir?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Tom Riddle slew his father and his grandparents," Salazar explained.
"You want me to slay my family?" Daphne asked.
"You wish to surpass my Heirs, do you not?"
"I refuse."
"Fine," Salazar said. "Allow me to help."
There was a rumbling from above, and shapes began to fall from the darkness. Daphne remembered Harry's story. It was the Ark of Slytherin - the same device Harry had overcome in order to claim his inheritance.
"What are you trying to achieve?" she demanded. "This is all in my head. It's not even real!"
"My dear," Salazar said dryly. "Just because it's in your head doesn't mean it's not real."
The lack of amusement in the Slytherin Founder's voice scared her into action. It was ridiculous that anything happening here would affect her, let alone her actual family who weren't even in the Chamber, but the Founders could perform magic on a level people no longer could. Who was she to say if Salazar was bluffing or not?
"Quetzal!" Daphne yelled. "Are you here?"
"The Custodian cannot help you," Salazar's voice answered. "Unlike she did with that boy who interests you so."
The snakes began to converge not on her, but on her parents and Astoria, who were helpless on the ground. Daphne gritted her teeth and yelled, "Glacius!"
A blast of cold air struck the serpents, giving them a quick death. Daphne darted towards her captive family at full speed, repeating the ice-making spell to create a wall of ice around them.
"Why do you resist?" Salazar asked. "All you have to do is let the sepents kill them. It wouldn't even be your fault."
"I am not like Riddle," she answered. "I will die before I abandon them!"
"Is that so?" Salazar spoke. "A pity. Goodbye, Daphne Greengrass."
Suddenly, several snakes as large as the Basilisk shot out of the water. They bared their fangs and slammed right through the ice wall she'd created. Daphne didn't hesitate. She focused all of her fury into her spell. "Avada Keda-"
The Chamber vanished the way the drawing room had, and now Daphne found herself sitting in one of the high boxes on the Quidditch Pitch. Students wearing green and silver colors were embroiled in a match against students wearing Gryffindor ones.
She and Salazar were alone in the box, though spectators filled the other seats all over the pitch.
"You're a dick," Daphne stated with no amusement when she realized what was happening.
"Our House's image of preying on the weak is not entirely unwarranted," Salazar answered, sounding very amused indeed. "Not that you're weak, mind you, but comapred to me, well," he trailed off.
"Did I pass or fail?" shed asked, having had just about enough of Salazar's bullshit.
"It wasn't a pass or fail test," he answered.
"Then what was the point of-"
"I simply wanted to know what you valued," he answered. "If you were like most of my Heirs, who valued their individual greatness above all else."
Daphne repeated the words silently in her head to make sure she heard right before speaking. "Are you disappointed?"
"No," he said. "I never valued my own greatness much."
She shot him a skeptical look, so he added:
"If I did, I wouldn't have left behind my knowledge or creations for my Heirs to find."
Daphne considered.
"That makes a lot of sense, actually," she admitted. She hesitated before speaking again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," he said. "I owe you that much at least."
Daphne nodded. He'd just killed her in a dream, after all. "You don't seem as uptight about Blood Purity as I thought you'd be. Most Blood Supremacists refer to your words when they argue against Muggleborns being allowed to study magic."
"Why do you care about Blood Purity?" he asked.
"My only issue has ever been that the Ministry and Hogwarts refuse to bring Muggleborns into the fold properly," she answered. "You know I have Muggleborn friends, but Hermione and Justin made an effort to learn the customs, integrate into our society. Muggleborns aren't raised like us. They don't know proper etiquette and neither the Ministry nor Hogwarts seem to care beyond that they shouldn't do magic in the muggle world."
"I've been around for a long time," Salazar answered, chuckling softly. "Civilizations and cultures rise and fall, so I never cared about whether a Muggleborn knew how to address me or not, or if they knew how to behave at a formal gathering. I found such customs chaffing, to be honest."
He grinned. "I did care about whether or not the Muggles would learn of us and hunt our kind to extinction instead of each other."
"Right. Things were very different in your time."
Salazar nodded. "But since I have been around for a long time, and I have been seeing the world through the memories of my Heirs, I've since changed my mind about the importance of blood. I'm not saying I was wrong, mind you."
Daphne gestured for him to go on.
"Insisting that only those whose parents had magic should be able to learn in this school made sense in my time for safety reasons," he elaborated. "Magicals were being hunted down, after all. But today, there are those who still cling to those old beliefs to justify the harm they inflict on Muggles and Muggleborns. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
"Really?"
Salazar shrugged his shoulders. It was a rather unexpected gesture from such a dignified figure. "The world is always changing, and so are people."
"But aren't you just-"
"A memory of Salazar Slytherin who speaks with his face and voice?" Salazar smiled. "Give me a little more credit than that. Who do you think Riddle got the diary idea from?"
"Of course," Daphne said. "So, do I just-"
She was interrupted as the crowd erupted into cheer. The Slytherin Seeker (it didn't look like Draco from that distance for some reason) had managed to catch the golden snitch.
"It seems time is up," Salazar said even as the Quidditch Pitch slowly dissolved into nothing. "Tell my new Heritor I'd love to meet him for tea one of these days, Familiar optional. It was good meeting you, Daphne Greengrass. You would have been a worthy Heir, far more so than many of those who visited before you."
Daphne blinked, unsure if she'd heard right, but then she smiled as the world faded to black.
"Immobulus!" was the first thing Daphne heard as she returned to the Chamber of Secrets in reality. Her wand went out and she whirled on her would-be attacker.
She only saw Harry with his wand outstretched and regarding her with a patient, questioning look. The spell hadn't been aimed at her, but at the teacup she'd used to drink the Potion. It must have fallen from her grasp when she snapped out of her trance, because it now floated a few inches between her hand and the floor.
Daphne quickly put her wand down. "Now I know why the provided cup was stone."
Harry didn't do the same. "It is you, right?"
She could only smirk. "If you don't stand down, you'll wake up handcuffed to the bed, paralyzed and with your wand nowhere to be found until I decide to show mercy. We'll just tell the Professors you've got diarrhea."
"Yep, it's you," he said, lowering his wand.
"I'm seriously wondering what you two would be like as enemies," Ginny said.
"Ooh," Justin added. "I can imagine it: Two brilliant people at each other's throats, but they can't decided whether to kill or kiss each other."
"I'd watch that movie," Ginny said.
Daphne ignored them and turned to the ghostly Basilisk in the room. "So, how do I-"
As if to answer, one of the glass cases holding an egg suddenly shimmered with green light, drawing her eyes and all others to it.
"The Creator hasss granted you an-" Quetzal stopped midsentence as the green light suddenly turned blue and brilliant, completely obscuring the egg in the process. "What isss thisss? Thisss hasss never happened before."
Daphne had never been one to let her emotions show, let alone take control of her, but something inside her said everything was alright. She really hoped her gut was correct, because even Harry looked apprehensive after hearing Quetzal say she had no idea what was going on.
The blue light slowly faded, and the room looked particularly dark after it was gone, even though the torches still burned like they had since the Chamber had been created.
Her feet carried her to the once-gleaming case. Her hand touched the glass, almost as if she'd always known how this room worked. Perhaps her exchange of information with Salazar hadn't been as one-sided as she'd thought. The clear material melted away, allowing her to reach for the egg, but she didn't. The egg shook, and tiny cracks formed on its shell, growing larger and larger until a single, white head popped out.
The creature perplexed her, because Daphne had never heard of a snake with white feathers before, but that was what she was seeing. There was another crack as the snake started to peel itself out of the egg.
"Do you want help?" she asked in Parseltongue.
It shook its head. Perhaps it was too young to speak. Still, she respected its wishes. Her hand waited patiently for the hatchling to bust itself out and climb on.
"What is that?" Justin asked. He and the others had joined her.
"Unique," Daphne answered. "A magical snake hybrid made by one of the Founders of Hogwarts."
She repeated the statement in Parseltongue to see if Quetzal agreed.
"Indeed," Quetzal answered. "But that hatchling wasss not supposssed to look like that."
Daphne nodded. She'd guessed as much. So, the memory of Salazar hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't just a recording. He still held some power over the Chamber. Harry probably wouldn't appreciate that.
"Harry, Salazar said he wanted to have tea with you," Daphne said. The hatchling had almost gotten out.
"Do you think I should?"
She considered. "Yeah, I think so."
Harry looked thoughtful. "Fill me in on what happened later and I'll think about it."
That was not the answer she'd expected him to give. She'd thought he'd flat out refuse, considering Slytherin's reputation and his status as a Half-blood. It spoke volumes of how much he trusted her.
The hatchling finally managed to slither out of its shell and onto Daphne's hand. It felt soft, and oddly warm in her hand. Snakes were supposed to be cold and smooth, though she supposed the feathers and white plumage suggested this one was quite different, indeed.
Those quirks paled in comparison to its back, however, because there she saw a pair of tiny, undeveloped wings covered in the same white feathers as the rest of its body.
"It's beautiful. What are you naming it?" Ginny asked.
Daphne considered. "Quetzal, can you tell if it'sss a boy or a girl? It can't ssspeak yet."
"Your guesss isss asss good asss mine because it isss unusssual," Quetzal answered. "But probably a girl."
"Jack," Daphne answered.
Ginny looked confused, but Harry and Justin shared a look and smirked.
"As in Jack Frost?" Justin asked.
"Too long and on the nose for my tastes," she answered.
"Jack it is, then."
Notes:
1.) Dang
2.) I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was. So many Familiars. Remember when there were only two of these two books ago? I might've gone overboard a bit, but it's like... logical for smart kids to have them. At least Crookshanks isn't one, right? Right?
3.) I'm almost sure I took liberties with Slytherin when I wrote this, but I can't remember exactly.
4.) Would Daphne's AK have done anything? Who knows?
Chapter 17: Academic Life
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry
Arithmancy was not what Harry expected when he'd signed up for it. It sounded like a form of magic relating to math and/or numbers, but in reality, it was math for wizards.
The problem, he realized after skimming the textbook, was that it conflated several branches of muggle mathematics into one. One chapter described exponentials; another taught students how to compute the area of a triangle; and those were the ones Harry had some idea of from muggle school. The book also went on about finance, computing taxes, and other subjects he didn't think thirteen year olds normally learned.
Septima Vector was as strict as the rumors made her out to be, tolerating no nonsense in her class and assigning heaps of homework because of, as Harry had realized, how much information was being crammed into a single year of schooling.
He resolved to Floo back to the muggle half of Britain with Justin one day to purchase books that might help for their magical friends who had the misfortune to take Arithmancy.
Harry still hadn't decided how he felt about Hagrid being their Care of Magical Creatures Professor. On the one hand, Hagrid really knew Magical Creatures. On the other, Harry wasn't sure he knew enough about the proper education of children.
The choice of the Monster Book of Monsters, as amused as Harry was by the idea of sentient books that could attack people, said a lot about Hagrid's evaluation of what was safe for students.
And to make matters worse, a certain blond Slytherin boy whose father used to be on the Hogwarts board of governors was taking Care for reasons Harry did not know. As was Willow, for much less obscure reasons.
"Well, this is a familiar walk," Tracey commented as she, Hermione, Neville, and Harry traveled down to Hagrid's Shack. They'd avoided the mob of students on the main path, taking the secluded one he and Willow took during first year.
"As long as we're not going into the Forest again," Neville said. He tried to sound like he was kidding, but a slight shake in his voice said otherwise.
"We're protected now, remember?" Harry reminded him in a hushed voice. "If anything tries to do us harm within the forest, Aragog's children will come running."
"I feel so assured," Neville drawled.
It was a strange thing, hearing a Gryffindor drawl.
"What do you think the lesson's going to be?" Hermione asked.
Harry made a thoughtful sound. "Normally, I'd say they'd start us off with a Category X like a Flobberworm. Maybe a Double X like a Ghoul."
"But?"
"But this is Hagrid," Harry said. "Mister I-Hatched-A-Dragon. So, it's probably a triple X like a Jarvey or Pixie."
"Oh, Merlin," Neville said. "Not Pixies again."
"Come to think of it," Hermione began. "Isn't Daphne's new Familiar technically against the Ban on Experimen- Ow!"
"Thank you, Tracey," Harry said.
The half-vampire had quickly elbowed Hermione to not mention such topics in the open, even if they were alone and under some basic privacy spells.
"And Jack is just a pet right now," Harry reminded her. "She has to grow a bit before Daphne binds her, or she'll be a hatchling forever. Besides, it's not like we made her. What are they gonna do? Sue Salazar Slytherin?"
"Sorry."
They talked about less sensitive things as they approached Hagrid's Hu- Shack and joined their fellow students. Hagrid was already out in the open, welcoming students as they arrived. Harry traded greetings with his sister and Susan before seeing what Hagrid had in store for today.
"Righ'," he said in his usual Hagrid speech. "I got a treat for ye today."
"Is he quitting?" Malfoy asked in what Harry thought was supposed to be a quiet voice, but several Gryffindors had clearly heard him, if the mean looks they shot him were anything to go by. "What on earth is that?"
Stepping out from behind the shack was a bird-like creature that stood on four legs, kind of like a horse.
"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid asked before tossing what looked like a raw fish at the creature. He caught it neatly in his beak. "Say 'ello to Buckbeak."
"What exactly is that?" Ronald asked in his usual annoying, whiny voice.
"That, Ron, is a Hippogriff," Hagrid explained. "Firs' thing yer need to know about Hippogriffs is that they're very proud creatures. Very easily offended. You do nah wan' to insult a Hippogriff. May just be the last thing you do. Now, who wants to say 'ello?"
Harry immediately turned his gaze to Willow before whispering to his friends, "Five Galleons my sister volun- Dang it."
Willow had already stepped up, seemingly fascinated by the Hippogriff.
"That's a sucker's bet," Tracey said, her eyes not leaving Willow. Harry had a feeling she'd leap forward at the first sign Willow was in any danger.
"Well done, Willow. Well done," Hagrid said. "Now, you have to let 'im make the firs' move. Only polite. Give him a nice bow, then wait to see if he bows back. If he does, ye can touch 'im. If not, well, we'll ge' to tha' later."
It went without saying that the Hippogriff did bow back, and eventually even let Willow ride him. Harry pretended disinterest as she rode through the sky on the Hippogriff, but he kept his wand arm ready in case she fell and needed someone to slow her fall.
"He's slower than most Quidditch broomsticks," Harry observed.
"Yeah, but can a broomstick rake someone's eyes out?" Tracey asked.
"If you have good aim," Harry answered in all seriousness. "And brooms don't get hit by the You-Know-What Curse." Tracey just shook her head at him.
Eventually, Willow and whatever the Hippogriff's name had been came back down, landing gracefully near where they'd taken off.
As the non-Slytherins and Hagrid started to cheer Willow on, Harry spotted Malfoy pushing his way through the crowd before he could stop him.
"Yeah, you're not so dangerous at all are you?" Malfoy said. "You ugly brute."
The Hippogriff whose name Harry couldn't remember reared back, screeching with rather justified anger.
Harry's wand snapped out of its holster, but then he stopped, smelling an opportunity as the Hippogriff brought one of its talons down, slicing clean through Malfoy's sleeve. The fool had tried to block with his arm instead of a spell.
As Hagrid tried to calm the Hippogriff down, Harry loudly proclaimed, "Hagrid, I need to get him to the hospital!"
"Er, I'm the teacher, 'Arry," Hagrid said. "I shoul'-"
"And I help out at the Hospital Wing," Harry answered, already bending down to Malfoy who was cradling his arm, softly muttering how the 'chicken had killed him.' "A shame I don't have a Wiggenweld on hand."
He spotted Willow trying her best not to yell at him for lying since she knew he was rather fond of the Potion and kept several bottles in his trunk at all times, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn't owe Malfoy any favors.
"We need to clean the wound right away," Harry said as he inspected the gash. It was nowhere near as bad as Malfoy was acting, though he remembered how much he'd been able to coerce the boy by squeezing his broken shoulder in first year and reasoned Draco just had poor pain tolerance.
He almost couldn't keep a straight face as he dug inside his trunk for a green, plastic bottle of alcohol. Draco looked at him with confusion as if he'd never seen alcohol before. Harry would've believed it.
"It's for making sure you don't get an infection," Harry explained.
He poured the clear liquid straight onto the wound and watched with well-disguised amusement as Draco started to squirm and yell from the sting in front of the Care class.
There were, of course, less painful magical ways to clean a wound. Harry couldn't imagine why he'd decided to go with this method.
"The hell, Potter?" Draco asked. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I assure you, there are far quicker ways,” Harry whispered, then in a louder voice said, “Sorry. That’s how you know it’s working.”
He conjured bandages to dress the wound before saying he’d take him to Madam Pomfrey.
“Well, this brings back memories, doesn't it?” Harry asked as the two of them walked through the largely-empty halls. Other classes were still in session, after all.
“That oaf and his bloody chicken,” Draco muttered. “Wait until-”
“Your father hears about how you embarrassed Slytherin in front of the other three Houses?” Harry offered.
Draco seemed to pale slightly, but then said, “He wouldn’t see it that way. It’d be the second instance of me getting attacked by a Creature on school grounds.”
Harry gave him a blank stare as if to ask if he was being serious right now. Was he really going to compare this to his father releasing the bloody Basilisk on the student body?
“How’s Pansy?” Harry suddenly asked. “I noticed she wasn’t in Care.”
“She didn’t take it,” Draco answered. “She only took Runes and Divination.”
“She’s not in any of your electives?” Harry asked. He’d seen Malfoy in Arithmancy too, after all. Something about how heads of noble houses needed to know their numbers. “I thought you two were inseparable. You even got Petrified together.”
“Well, maybe she just didn’t want to get attacked by a bloody chicken,” Malfoy answered, though he didn’t sound as amused as he pretended.
“I’ll ask Daphne and Tracey if they can talk to her,” Harry said. “Maybe she’ll listen to them.”
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry. “Really?"
Harry shrugged. “We’re both mates on the Quidditch Team, right?”
He didn’t mention how he’d be asking Daphne and Tracey to talk Pansy into leaving Draco’s circle altogether, but if Draco couldn’t see through such an obvious ploy, he didn’t deserve her.
As he walked the oblivious Malfoy the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing, Harry lamented not for the first time how all his potential rivals in his year were already on his side. That, and the upper years didn’t even mess with him because Captain Flint would make anyone who hurt his team sorry.
Griffindors and Slytherins alike showed signs nervousness for their second Defense class, ranging from obvious to barely perceptible. Nothing worth noting had transpired from their first meeting. Lupin had simply introduced himself and talked a little about what to expect and how grateful he was to Dumbledore for the opportunity.
It didn't help that there was a shaking wardrobe in the middle of the room. Everyone still remembered Lockhart’s stupid Pixie mishap and hoped to Merlin that Professor Lupin would be more competent.
Malfoy had somehow turned his pathetic overreaction to the gash on his arm into a pathetic exaggeration of how closely he’d come to dying: He had his arm in a sling Madam Pomfrey hadn’t prescribed and talked anyone who'd been willing to listen's ear off about it.
Harry was tempted to sort him out, but Captain Flint might take offense to him doing anything too overt to Slytherin’s Seeker. 'Accidentally' making Malfoy look pathetic during Care was one thing. Physical harm that might hamper his Seeking was another.
"Can anyone hazard a guess as to what's inside?" Lupin asked.
"That's a Boggart," a Griffindor boy answered.
"Very good, Mister Thomas," Lupin said. "Now, can anyone tell me what a Boggart looks like?"
"No one knows," Hermione and Willow said at the exact same time. Then, Hermione signalled for Willow to go ahead, so she did. "They're shapeshifters, taking the form of whatever a particular person fears the most."
"Excellent, Miss Potter. Five points to Griffindor." He walked over to the shaking wardrobe. "Now, there is a very simple charm we can use to repel a Boggart."
The wardrobe made a particularly loud shake, and Harry wondered if the Boggart was smart enough to understand what Lupin was saying.
"Let's practice it now without wands first," Lupin said. "Riddikulus!"
"This class is ridiculous," Malfoy muttered, to snickering from his two minions. Pansy was nearby, but she didn't seem inclined to humor him.
Lupin had them repeat the spell until he was satisfied they had the pronunciation down. "Now, what finishes off a Boggart is laughter. Let me explain. Neville, won't you join me please?"
Neville flinched ever so slightly, but then walked forward. It probably helped he'd found new confidence after replacing his wand.
"Neville, what frightens you most in the world?"
Neville looked like he was about to actually answer, so Harry put his proverbial foot down.
"Excuse me, Professor," Harry interrupted, keeping his tone even to mask his sudden annoyance. He couldn't tell if Lupin was just insensitive or intentionally asking Neville to spill his worst fears in front of the two houses with the most bullies in them. "With all due respect, don't you think it's inappropriate for a student to divulge his deepest fears in front of his peers?"
Lupin looked at him with surprise, but then eased into a small smile. "Not to worry, Harry. Everyone is afraid of something. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"It's not about shame, Professor," Harry added. "It's about privacy. I'm sure most of my fellow students would prefer if the entire student body didn't know what they fear most."
Harry, for one, did not want Malfoy or anyone else in Slytherin finding out that an overweight walrus of a man with a belt sent shivers down his spine. That might have ruined his power base within the House.
"You're right," Lupin said after some thought. "My apologies, Neville. Everyone is entitled to have secrets."
"It's alright, Professor," Neville said, looking relieved.
"Well, I'm sorry, class, but it looks like we'll have to cancel today's lesson," Lupin said, earning Harry groans and dirty looks from Griffindor and Slytherin alike. Harry, however, only registered that Lupin could be dense sometimes.
"Actually, Professor, we can still go ahead," Harry said.
"He's right," Blaise chimed in, to help take the heat off of him. "We just need to do it in a way that not everyone can see what the Boggart turns into."
Hermione saw what they were doing, and, never one to be deprived of a lesson, added, "Might I suggest everyone waits outside while one student comes in at a time? That way only they and the Professor would see."
"Are you all alright with that?" Lupin asked. Opinions seemed divided.
"I think it's alright," Daphne spoke. "After all, you're a trusted Professor at Hogwarts. Confidentiality is part of the job, no?"
"I know Professor Lupin," Willow added. "He wouldn't do anything bad with whatever he learns today."
Hearing the Flame Princess of Griffindor and the Ice Princess of Slytherin seem to agree on something changed most of the present students' minds and they finally consented.
After explaining the concept of the charm to all of them at once to save time, Lupin asked them to kindly wait outside as he called students in one by one to face the Boggart.
Harry's turn eventually came up. He did not fancy seeing Vernon's face again after cleanly navigating his escape, but he walked into the room anyway.
"I must thank you for pointing that out, Harry," Lupin said as the door closed behind him. "I'm sure a lot of them were thinking the same, and just didn't wish to voice it."
"Well, Neville is my friend," Harry answered simply. "I'd rather not give bullies any more ammunition for tormenting him."
"Are you sure you're James' son?" Lupin asked.
Harry regarded him with a perplexed look. "What do you mean?"
"Well, James would've realized what you did and let it go on, anyway," Lupin said cheerfully, as if taking a stroll down memory lane. "He'd have loved to get dirt on a few people."
Harry snorted. "Oh, that. I don't need a Boggart to do my research for me, Professor. I am in Slytherin, you know."
That seemed to snap Lupin out of his reverie. "Right. I guess you are. At least you're one of the good ones, eh? Took Voldemort's teenage self down with your sister."
Harry did his best not to narrow his eyes at the Professor. "Dumbledore's informed you of my sister's misadventures, then?"
"Er, no, she did," Lupin answered, which gave Harry more questions than answers. He knew Willow and Lupin were on a first name basis, but this still threw him for a loop. "Now, we should get rolling before the others up and leave."
"Of course," Harry said, walking closer to the wardrobe. He visualized Vernon turning into a five-inch version of himself that couldn't stand up.
"One, two, three!" Lupin opened the wardrobe. The figure that came out wasn't Vernon Dursley. Though tears marred its face, Harry would know those blue eyes and blond hair anywhere. Standing before him was the shape of Daphne Greengrass, glaring at him with sadness and contempt. Her lovely face was contorted with rage, and she looked about ready to physically assault him.
It was the knowledge that the real Daphne would've just used her wand and not allowed her frustration to show on her face that stopped Harry from being fooled. "Riddikulus."
The caricature of Daphne turned into a mannequin, retaining the blond hair and school robes. Harry sighed. Why couldn't it have been Vernon?
Because you're afraid you'll mess things up with Daphne if you try, Nyx communicated. But I didn't think you were this afraid.
Harry looked awkwardly at Lupin. He then flicked his wand and sent the mannequin back into the wardrobe with a Knockback Jinx.
"Well, that was unexpected," Lupin said.
"For both of us," Harry groaned. "Why? What did you think it would be?"
"To be honest?" Lupin said. "I was grateful you suggested we do this one by one because I thought yours and Willow's Boggarts would be Lord Voldemort and I didn't want to cause a panic."
"Oh," Harry said. "I doubt it, Sir. I don't think either of us really remember."
Lupin looked like he was about to say something else, but then simply said, "I suppose you're right."
Harry frowned. Willow had gone before him, and while he appreciated Lupin not spilling her fears to anyone who asked, now he was deathly curious. Instead, he focused on his own fears. "Are you going to ask?"
"Normally, I'd say Miss Greengrass bullied you and it caused some long term fear, but-" Lupin grinned sheepishly. "I believe you two are on good terms, so it's probably the exact opposite."
Harry neither confirmed nor denied Lupin's theory.
"You're thirteen, Harry," Lupin said matter-of-factly. "It's normal for people to think of these things during your age. I wish James was around to talk you through it, but-" he trailed off.
"A guy actually offered to teach me all he knew about romance last year," Harry said. "I turned him down, since nine months ago I had little interest."
Of course, he thought but didn't say, Lockhart was probably full of shit on that topic, too.
"I wish I could help, Harry, but, uh, it's not one of my better subjects."
"You think Amelia Bones would be able to help?" Harry quipped. It earned him a roaring laugh from the Defense Professor.
Notes:
I was going to post another one but I am too tired to proofread. Will do it tomorrow.
Chapter 18: Halloween, Year Three, Part One
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A month after term started, Harry approached Professor Flitwick to ask if he could join the Metalworking Club he and Madam Hooch supervised.
The short professor had been ecstatic, and told him to just attend whenever he wished.
That was how Harry found himself in one of the less-used classrooms near the Charms Department, which served as a club room of sorts. It was almost funny to find familiar faces from each House: It seemed each Quidditch Team sent at least two representatives, to make sure no one was tampering with Bludgers and Snitches.
"Wood," Harry said as he stepped in, recognizing Oliver Wood from their matches.
The Gryffindor Captain shot him an incredulous look. "Potter? Flint sent you?"
"No, he didn't," Peregrine Derrick answered for him. He and his fellow Slytherin Substitute Beater Lucian Bole were huddled over what looked to be an unenchanted Bludger.
"What're you doing here, Potter?" Bole asked.
"Professor Flitwick mentioned he ran a club that did magic work on metal objects," Harry answered, unintimidated by the pair whose positions he and Tracey had taken. "I was interested."
Harry, naturally, picked up on why Flint had chosen Derrick and Bole: The two of them were largely bench warmers these days, so this was how they contributed to the team.
Enchanting, as Harry had gleaned from the advance skimming he did of his books, was largely facilitated by magic runes. It was why Harry had taken the Ancient Runes elective in the first place.
Flitwick spent the first session drilling him on the basics of weaving basic levitation spells into Quidditch equipment.
"Professor," Harry began as he watched Flitwick working on a Snitch. "Why isn't this mandatory education? Isn't this knowledge kind of important?"
"You're not wrong, Mister Potter," Flitwick answered in his squeaky voice. "But most Enchanting is done by House-Elves, so there's no need for the majority of witches and wizards to learn this."
Harry had thought as much. "And the few magicals who actually work on this stuff are, what? Specialized artisans, I'm guessing?"
"Exactly, Mister Potter," Flitwick answered. "In truth, most members of this club are only here because of Quidditch. Funny how that works. I'm surprised you were so interested, honestly."
"Professor, I grew up in a Muggle household," Harry answered. "One of my first encounters with magic was a flying motorcycle. Of course I'm interested."
"Oh, I'm afraid we won't be doing anything like that," Flitwick said with a small frown. He likely didn't want to disappoint Harry so soon. "Enchanting muggle artifacts is forbidden by Ministry law."
"Oh, of course, Professor," Harry said easily. "I just meant that was what inspired me."
Enchantment turned out to be a difficult process. Flitwick did his best to guide Harry along, but the concepts he spoke of were a little beyond what Harry had learned in his advanced reading. They certainly exceeded what he learned in class. He'd only just started Runes, after all.
It would be a while before he could apply what he learned, especially if he didn't want to accidentally blow himself up, but he looked forward to the day he could do the things John/Johanna could do.
Halloween soon arrived, and with it, the first school-sanctioned field trip to Hogsmeade. Harry didn't fancy watching the other students in his year going off for their nice little trip while he had to stay in the castle (even if it was dangerous out there), so he'd quickly sought out the only other two people he knew for sure weren't going: The two other Hogwarts students from Bones Manor.
Willow suggesting they could spend the afternoon with Professor Lupin had been unexpected, but welcome. It was Halloween, after all. If a monster was going to roam the halls like the previous two years, he'd rather be in a room with a teacher than on his own.
"Remus," Willow spoke as she nursed a cup of tea, "Why do the Dementors affect me so much?"
Remus cast a glance between Harry and his sister as if to double check she was alright talking about it and said, "It's not because you're weak, Willow. As you probably know, Dementors feed on happy memories. What do you think is left after those are gone?"
"The bad memories?" Willow said.
"Exactly," Lupin answered. "You're vulnerable because unlike most of your classmates, you have particularly nasty memories of when your parents were murdered."
Harry remained silent. He had the same memory, though he had plenty of other nasty ones courtesy of the Dursleys.
"I've been trying to perform the Patronus charm," Willow confessed. "But so far, I haven't gotten it to work."
"It's a highly advanced spell," Lupin said. "If you managed to master it at your age, I'd be amazed."
He cast a glance at Harry and sighed. "Or so I'd like to say, but as I learned recently, Harry's friends seem to be capable of performing it, though they haven't exactly mastered it."
"Really?" Willow asked, shooting him a dirty look. He might have forgotten to tell her about how half his crew could conjure Incorporeal Patronuses.
"You should ask Tracey," Harry said coolly. "She'd probably be happy to help you."
"Oh, uh, I see," Willow said. It was rare to see his sister lose her composure. She'd kept a straight face when they'd confronted Aragog and Riddle. "I'll ask her, then. Thanks."
"I could teach the two of you," Lupin offered.
"Not to be rude, Professor," Harry said, "But how would you help us past the incantation and the wand movement? Isn't the hard part something the caster needs to figure out?"
"Well, we could use the Boggart," Lupin said. "It wouldn't be nearly as powerful as a true Dementor, but the feel might be enough to spur your Patronuses to manifest."
Willow suddenly looked rather meek, as if Lupin had just revealed something private about her that he shouldn't have. Harry closed his eyes for a second and sighed softly.
He knew what Willow's biggest fear was now, but he didn't need to make her feel bad about it. "Well, Professor, I don't know how we'd find a student whose incredibly private worst fear would be a Dementor, so are you suggesting there's a way to make the Boggart change into a Dementor forcibly?"
Lupin seemed to have caught on because his eyes suddenly widened like dinner plates, though he tried his best not to look at Willow. "Er, yes, possibly. We could use a Confundus charm to make it think it's near someone who fears a Dementor above all other things. It should work."
"Really?" Harry asked. Silently, he wondered if that meant he could Imperius a Boggart to take advantage of its shapeshifting abilities. He'd have to look into acquiring one and getting it to the Chamber. Maybe Fred and George would know. Perhaps he could turn a Boggart into Darth Vader and have him kill Voldemort with a lightsaber.
Harry, Nyx's voice cut into his thoughts. Willow's Fairy wants to pass on that Willow says thanks.
Tell her it's nothing, Harry communicated. But also that I'm not telling her what my Boggart was.
He smirked, knowing Willow would notice and focus on him teasing her instead of what he was actually about to say. "Well, that's very kind of you, Professor, but I'm alright. I'm already swamped by extracurriculars. I'll just stay away from them until Black gets caught."
"Willow did mention you're a bit of an achiever," Lupin said. "You might be waiting a while, though. I doubt Sirius would be so stupid as to reveal himself with so many Dementors on guard."
"If it comes down to it, I'll run to one of the Aurors," Harry said, though in truth, if he ran into Black inside the Castle, he had several plans of action ready.
"Is this a standing offer, Professor?" Willow asked. "I think I'd like to try getting help from Harry's friend first."
Harry almost rolled his eyes. His sister just wanted a plausible excuse for spending time with her girlf- actually, hold that thought. He wasn't actually sure they'd gotten that far.
"Of course," Lupin said. "Just remember, my door is open if you need-"
There was a sudden knock on Lupin's door. He gave his guests an apologetic look and then said, "Come in."
Severus Snape might've been one of the last people Harry expected to step through the threshold, and yet there he was in all his menacing glory. He cast one glance at Lupin's guests before striding straight for the Defense Professor's desk. He plopped a bottle on it. "Your medicine, as requested," he drawled.
"Oh, heavens," Lupin said. "Thank you, Severus. I'd completely forgotten."
Snape made no further comment and turned on his heel, swooping out of the room. The door closed gently behind him.
"Professor Snape makes you medicine?" Harry asked. "You'd probably have an easier time with Madam Pomfrey."
"Oh, I have no doubt she's more than capable of brewing it," Lupin answered. "It's just that the fewer people know of my condition, the better."
Harry quickly cast a glance at Willow, who seemed to shrink away from his gaze. That told him what he needed to know: Whatever Lupin had, Willow knew about it.
"You're not dying, are you, Sir?" Harry asked. The concern in his voice wasn't faked.
Lupin chuckled. "Not for quite some time, no. It's not something that'll kill me."
Harry nodded. "Did you know Professor Snape?"
Most people would've thought he was politely changing the topic, but he was really trying to find out why Snape of all people would know what was wrong with Lupin.
"You mean before taking this job?" Lupin said. "Yes. We were in the same year, in fact. Me, your parents, Snape, Peter, and well, Sirius." Lupin's voice suddenly turned serious. "I don't suppose either of you are foolhardy enough to seek him out?"
"Aunt Amelia would kill me," Willow answered. "Assuming Black didn't."
Harry shook his head. "If he wants to get at me, he'll have to do it on mine and Dumbledore's terms - inside this Castle."
After all, Black might have been able to escape Azkaban, but Harry doubted even he would be able to just enter the Chamber of Secrets. And if worse came to worst, being Heritor meant he could just request a secret passage from the castle, trap Black in there, and spin some story about how the castle must've tried to protect a student from the intruder. Stranger things had happened, and no one knew enough about Hogwarts Castle to deny such an explanation.
"Sometimes I really wonder if you're James' children," Lupin said.
"Well, in a way, Willow is Amelia's," Harry answered. Harry, on the other hand, was pretty much an orphan except he had shitty, abusive relatives instead of none.
"I supposed having to live with the head of the DMLE would make you straight," Lupin said.
Willow suddenly choked on her tea. Harry had to bite his teeth together to not laugh. Susan just looked perplexed at the both of them.
"You alright, Willow?" Lupin asked.
She coughed for a bit before answering. "I'm fine, Remus. Sorry for worrying you. Actually, I think it's about time we headed back out."
"Right, the others'll be back soon," Harry added, taking pity on her. He could see the sun setting outside Remus' window. "Thank you for having us, Professor."
"Of course," he said, smiling at the three of them. "Any time."
The Great Hall, of course, had been fashioned with Halloween decor and appropriate food (appropriate for the occassion, not for dinner). Harry imagined Hermione's dentist parents would've been horrified to know just how many sweets were being served up to children.
"Is it me or is there more chocolate than usual?" Harry asked as he inspected their food. He and his friends had reconvened for the Halloween Feast.
"Makes sense," Theo muttered. He'd gotten Harry some sweets from a shop called Honeyduke's only to be reminded that it was Halloween and they'd have more sweets than they could ever eat. Harry appreciated the thought, though.
"Has anyone seen Tracey?" Blaise asked.
"I dunno," Harry said. "She was there when you all got back from Hogsmeade."
Right. Willow didn't like going to the Halloween Feast. It was the anniversary of their parents' death, after all. That was why she'd wanted to see Lupin. Wasn't hard to guess where Tracey was, based on that.
"Think we should look for her?" Blaise suggested. "It's Halloween, after all. There's probably some monster inexplicably running around the halls."
"Honestly, if a monster snuck up on any of us," Harry said. "Tracey probably has the best chance of getting away."
"Besides you, maybe," Daphne said. She wasn't wrong. The Castle listened to him now, after all. To an extent, anyway.
"Well, true. Best chance based on natural abilities, then."
Tracey
Tracey enjoyed being half-vampire. She didn't burn in the sun, though she still wore the sunproof contacts Harry had gotten her last Christmas. She was fast, she was strong, and she only needed a drop of blood every month to keep herself in top form.
Most of all, however, she enjoyed the effect she had on people. Even if she couldn't mess with people's heads directly (without retribution, anyway), she'd been gifted with much of the same supernatural allure as her mother - allure that currently had one Willow Potter transfixed as they kept each other company in what Willow had called the 'Room of Requirement.' She might not nearly have been as strong as a Veela, but the effect was similar.
The Room was currently a small, cozy space, with an unlit hearth and only one red couch. They'd started on opposite ends, but Willow had slowly closed the distance, possibly without her knowing. Tracey didn't know - she'd never been subject to another vampire's powers to her knowledge.
"How's Ashes?" Willow asked.
"Out hunting," Tracey answered, never breaking contact with those deep green eyes. "Charra?"
"She's, well, she's here somewhere," Willow answered.
The fact that Willow's Fairy was not actually a Fairy had surprised Tracey, but it didn't even make it to the top three things that baffled her about the Potter Twins. Nick would've loved that scoop if she could get him evidence, but she'd rather let Charra burn him to ash than betray Willow to him.
"She really just does what she wants," Tracey commented.
"Kind of like you," Willow said.
Tracey scoffed. "If I had my way you and I would be soaring through the night sky on one broomstick. But alas, Dementors are out there."
The Girl Who Lived's face turned red and she broke eye contact for what felt like the first time in forever. "Merlin, Tracey!"
Tracey snickered. "You think we'll ever actually get to your Patronus lessons?" That was the official reason they'd met up, after all.
"We might if you stopped distracting me so much!" Willow shot back.
"Distraction? Me?" Tracey asked, unable to hide her grin. "I don't know what you mean."
"I'm never going to conjure a Patronus, am I?" Willow said, sounding resigned.
"Now, now," Tracey said. "Let me help. Come on."
She left the seat and stood, waiting for Willow to do the same. When the other girl finally did, Tracey said, "Now, wand out, Miss Potter."
Willow rolled her eyes, but did as asked, snapping the wand out of the holster she had around her wrist.
"Now, I'm going to teach you the wand movement, okay?" Tracey said.
"I already know the-" Willow began to protest, but shut up when Tracey moved behind her with the speed she used on the Quidditch Pitch, gently wrapping Willow's arms with her own as if to guide her.
"Now," Tracey said, placing her right hand over Willow's and sending sparks through both of them, "You need to move it like this, and say: Expecto Patronum."
"E-expecto Pat-"
"No, no, Miss Potter," Tracey said, practically whispering in Willow's ear. Her smell reminded Tracey of sunlight and green meadows. Not normally her thing, but for Willow, she'd make an exception. "You have to say it clearly."
"O-okay," Willow said. "Expecto Patronum!"
To their surprise, a white mist actually flowed out of Willow's wand, though it held no shape and only lingered about in front of them.
"I-I did it!" Willow exclaimed.
"Good job," Tracey whispered, knowing it sent tingles down her spine. "Do you want a reward?"
"N-n-no!" Willow said, suddenly jumping away. "I'm okay! You've already been a big help, really."
"Mhm," Tracey hummed with a hint of disappointment. "So, what were you thinking about?"
"I-I didn't really have time to focus on a memory," Willow answered, voice barely louder than a whisper.
Tracey blinked. If she hadn't recalled a happy thought, that meant - The half-vampire grinned. "So, does that mean you're feeling pretty happy right now?"
Willow blushed and rolled her eyes, stomping out of Tracey's embrace. "Stop teasing me! Merlin."!
She frowned. Not a mask that time, but genuinely. "Sorry. Maybe that was too fast."
"No, it's just-" Willow paused. "I need to think."
"Do you not like me that way after all?" The question was simple, short, but absolutely loaded.
"I dunno," Willow answered. "I think I do, but I dunno if I can commit to this." She gestured between the two of them. "Whatever this is."
"I can wait."
"That's not the issue," Willow said. "It's that I'm the Girl Who Lived."
Tracey let her confusion show on her face. She'd gotten to know Willow well over the summer, and she didn't know her to be concerned with fame and fortune. "How do you mean?"
"I'm in the Daily Prophet at least once a year," Willow answered. "If we were together, your life would turn upside down."
"I was under the impression Magicals didn't care too much about two girls falling in love. Or boys, for that matter."
"Tracey, think." Willow radiated patience. "Use that noggin of yours that tried to keep people from thinking I was the Heir of Slytherin last year."
The problem was Tracey had already thought about it: If her father found out she and the Girl Who Lived were dating, there was no way he'd believe she couldn't get dirt on him. Willow didn't need to know just how bad her relationship with Nick was, though.
"Right. I'm a Slytherin, a Half-Blood," Tracey answered. "And we're both only in third year."
Willow nodded, looking somber. She seemed oddly a lot like her brother when she was that calm and rational. "Our Houses will never leave you alone."
"I can take it," Tracey said, surprised at her own confidence. "I can dropkick a few fools into next week."
Willow shook her head. "That's no way to live your life. Have you tried Harry? I mean," she stopped, suddenly unsure of herself. "We k-kind of look alike. Maybe you could just-"
"What? Pretend he's you?" Tracey drawled. "You might be twins, but you and Harry couldn't be more different."
On Willow's face were the warring feelings of hope and dread. "But aren't you two, uh, close?"
"Not in the way you're thinking, no," Tracey answered.
"Weren't you two flirting while we were going into the Forbidden Forest?" Willow asked, a bit more pointedly.
Tracey nodded. "And that's how I know Harry doesn't have feelings for me. If he did, he'd be more afraid if I didn't flirt back. That's just pals being pals."
A proverbial gear seemed to click in Willow's head. "Wait, are he and Greengrass-"
"Not for me to say," Tracey answered. "But honestly, I dunno. I don't think so, but we weren't talking about them. Let's focus on us. We could keep it quiet, if you prefer. Like we do now."
"We can't hide it forever," Willow said.
"We don't have to." Tracey smiled softly at Willow and placed her hand back on hers. "Just long enough for us to finish school, or for potential enemies to be thinned out. Seventh Years are too busy with N.E.W.T.s to do anything about it. So, what's three years?"
"I- well," Willow sputtered. Tracey was rapidly growing fond of this flustered Willow. "I hope you don't regret this."
"Well, just in case I do, you can make it up to me in advance." The smirk was back on her face. "May I kiss you, Princess?"
Willow sputtered. "I- what- who- I told you to stop calling me that!"
Notes:
1.) Apologies. I was going to post this yesterday but I wound up binging Arsene Lupin on Netflix.
2.) Posting another chapter in a bit.
Chapter 19: Halloween, Year Three, Part Two
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry
Sirius Black was in Hogwarts Castle, because of course he was. It wouldn't be Halloween if nothing strange happened. The faculty hadn't made a formal announcement yet, of course: All they knew for sure was that a Gryffindor Prefect had come rushing into the Great Hall when dinner was nearly over and informed the teachers that someone had attacked the portrait guarding the Gryffindor Common Room.
The consensus, naturally, was that this intruder was Sirius Black, and seeing as how he'd tried to enter the Gryffindor Common Room, he was here to kill Willow Potter.
All the professors except for Hagrid (as he was far below the others in dueling ability) and Flitwick (so the students wouldn't be unattended) departed the Great Hall together to look for Black, leaving behind the Head Boy, Head Girl, and Prefects to protect the other students.
Unfortunately, that also meant Willow and Tracey were out somewhere in the castle with no means of knowing they were in danger.
"It's First Year all over again," Harry whined.
Theo and Daphne both gave him looks that seemed to ask 'Are we going or what?' Harry sighed so softly only he heard it, and then nodded. "Just us three."
Nyx, a little cover, please.
There was a second's pause as the Fairy Magic enveloped the three of them. Done.
The three of them then cast Notice-Me-Not charms on themselves just to be safe before they left the table. They walked to the secluded spot where he met Willow whenever they needed to have a private word, and then Harry spoke, "In the name of Salazar Slytherin, bring me to Willow Potter."
Neither the wall nor the floor shifted. Nothing had changed, in fact, except for Harry feeling a tad embarrassed. "I said: In the name of Salazar Slytherin, bring me to Willow Potter."
Again, nothing.
"You tried the sssame thing again?" Daphne asked. "Expecting sssomething different to happen?"
Theo cleared his throat. "Could you maybe use a language everyone understands?"
Daphne just smirked. "You wouldn't want to know what I said, anyway."
Theo gave her a puzzled look.
"I guess the Castle can't tell Willow apart from any of the other students," Harry reasoned. "Old-fashioned way it is, then."
Blast. That had been his entire plan. He couldn't even use a snake to track her like he'd done in second year - there wasn't a scent to follow.
"Wait, was Ashes at the table?" Harry asked, remembering Tracey's cat was part-snake.
Daphne shook her head. "No. Ginny usually feeds her scraps from the table, but Ashes wasn't there tonight."
"Right," he said. "Stick together."
Nyx, if you notice her Fairy at all, tell me.
Obviously, Nyx answered.
He was convinced that if Nyx had been a witch, she'd have been in Slytherin with the rest of them.
"What do you fancy our chances are?" Harry asked. He had no idea where Tracey and Willow were. For that matter, Black was also lurking around somewhere. Then again, they were in the castle. It was a good chance to get the jump on him.
"Well, well, well," a familiar male voice spoke from behind them.
"What have we got here?" a voice that sounded exactly the same asked.
The three of them whirled with their wands pointed, only to see the Weasley Terrors looking rather smug.
"How did you find us?" Harry asked, lowering his wand slightly. There was always a chance it wasn't just Black intruding in the castle and these two were Polyjuiced or something.
"We're twins," George said, still carefree despite the three armed students in front of him.
"We can find another twin easy," Fred added.
Harry almost dropped his guard. That kind of insanity couldn't have been anyone but the real Fred and George. "I- but I'm not your twin. That's not how that works!"
"It's not?" George asked.
"How'd we find you then?" Fred added.
Harry sighed. "Well, do you think you can use your incredible Wonder Twin powers to find my twin?"
"Of course," Fred said.
"It's why we were looking for you," George said, completing his brother's sentence.
"And?" Harry asked.
"Seventh Floor," Fred answered.
"Left corridor," George finished.
Harry gave them a doubtful look, and then nodded. "Come on, then."
They reached the seventh floor easily, because although the Castle couldn't take them directly to Willow and Tracey, it did rearrange the staircases to give them the fastest route possible. If Fred and George noticed, they didn't comment.
"Right, so where-" Harry stopped talking as they reached the seventh floor landing, because he'd nearly bumped into his sister and Tracey, who seemed to be on their way down.
"Harry!" Willow exclaimed. "I- funny meeting you here!"
Tracey's reaction was far more subdued. Her eyes did a once-over the group consisting of Harry, Theo, Daphne, and the twins before shooting Harry and Daphne questioning looks.
"Sirius Black might be in the castle," Daphne said, her tone serious. "We noticed you two missing and decided to look for you in case Black was targeting Willow."
"We know," Tracey said. "Ashes saw him cutting up the Gryffindor Common Room portrait."
"So you know where he is?" Harry asked.
"Ashes said he already left," Tracey said.
"We need to get back to the Great Hall where everyone is," Theo said. "Most of the Professors are searching the castle for him."
"Right," Tracey said. "Form up around the Potter twins, then."
Harry gave her a weird look. "What?"
"It's dark," Tracey explained. "He might think you're Willow and take you out first."
Harry was about to object, then thought better of it, and allowed himself and Willow to be ushered between their friends. Well, his friends. He wasn't entirely sure Willow thought that fondly of Theo and Daphne.
They slipped into the Great Hall as easily as they'd slipped out, though Dumbledore had returned with the other professors and was doing a very bad job of pretending he couldn't see their group enter despite their Glamour and Notice-Me-Nots.
They parted ways at the entrance of the Great Hall, returning to their respective tables.
As soon as Harry and his friends returned to the Slytherin table, the Headmaster cleared his throat, as if he'd been waiting for the Potters to arrive all along. "As a safety precaution, you will not be returning to your Common Rooms tonight. Instead, you will be sleeping here, in case our intruder is still lurking about."
It made sense, Harry supposed, for all of them to stay in one place. He doubted Black could defend himself against Dumbledore, all of the Professors, plus several hundred students at the same time. Even Voldemort would've had trouble doing that alone.
He suddenly regretted returning to the Great Hall. Had he known they were all just going to be sleeping on the floor, he would've preferred to take his friends to the Chamber and spend the night there, but it was too late now. Dumbledore would notice them leaving.
Then again, he supposed that might bring up questions of where they'd gone. It was fine, he supposed. He'd had worse sleeping conditions.
None of them asked why Tracey had been alone with Willow on the seventh floor. They'd either already put two and two together, made incorrect assumptions, or were content to wait until Tracey broached the topic.
They were provided with sleeping bags, at least, and the Great Hall somehow managed to fit all of the students together, though space was a little more scarce than Harry liked. His friends were all nearby, though the ones immediately to his left and right were Theo and Daphne. They'd kept their distance from Malfoy, who was making a fuss about having to sleep in these conditions while his arm was injured.
Wake me if something happens, Harry communicated to Nyx.
Oh really? I was just going to let you sleep there if Black suddenly walked through the door to murder you, but sure, Nyx answered. It turned out sarcasm translated well telepathically, too.
Harry eventually managed to find sleep, hoping the silencing charm he'd put around himself would hold until he woke up. That, and that the Observer wouldn't pick now for a fever dream visit.
The next day, Harry waited for his sister by their usual spot. He felt rather annoyed, seeing that the one seventh year Weasley seemed to be following her.
Harry was about to say something venomous when he noticed the Head Boy badge on the older student's vest and instead, said, "Weasley, good morning."
"Don't call me that, Harry," the Head Boy said, though he did smile. "We practically lived together last summer."
"Right, sorry," Harry said, smaking a mental note to ask Ginny what his name was later. "Are you, uh, following my sister?"
Willow, who had barely-contained annoyance on her features, gave away the answer, though she didn't actually say anything, which meant this must have been the faculty's idea.
"Professors' orders," the tall Weasley said. "After what Black did to the Fat Lady, they're nervous he's after Willow."
The Fat Lady, of course, being the portrtait that 'guarded' the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry had asked during breakfast.
"But not me?" Harry asked. He shouldn't have felt offended, but he was, though he hid it well. "Well, I suppose a servant of the Dark Lord wouldn't be coming after a Slytherin. Aren't you being a bit, uh, obvious about this, though?"
"Well, I-"
"He was making an excuse about having to go back to the dorm," Willow answered. "But then I saw you waiting here for me and he refused to part ways, so I called him out on it."
"That makes sense," Harry said, turning back to the older Gryffindor. "Sorry, but could you please let us talk in private? We'll just be a second."
The older boy seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then shrugged. "Of course. Not my place to eavesdrop on family matters."
He then walked off a bit until he was out of earshot, but still seemed to be waiting for Willow.
"Sorry about Percy," Willow said.
"Who?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That guy just now. Red hair, tall, kind of a stick in the mud? Oh, shit, did you-"
"Yes, I put up a silencing charm," Harry assured her. He'd done it quietly almost as soon as Percy had turned around.
"You really can't remember his name?" she asked. "You lived together!"
"Sister, I know dozens of people," Harry said. "I can't be expected to remember everyone's names. I just remember the most importants like you, and Susan, and Tracey."
She broke eye contact with him, then. He didn't enjoy putting on this show, but it would've been weird if he didn't at least ask her about it: That would've made it obvious he'd already known.
"We've been, uh," Willow stuttered. "Spending a lot of time together, and-"
"I could tell. As long as you're happy," Harry said. "Then I'm happy."
She gave him a doubtful look. "You don't mind? You two seemed close."
Oh. So that's what she meant, not that she was embarrassed about dating a girl. "We are close, but not that way. But why were you on the seventh floor?"
"I've got a place there I go to," she answered. "When I need to be alone."
"Alone with your lady friend, you mean?"
"Harry!"
"Sorry, sorry. I'm just glad you're both fine," he said. "You've still got your mirror for contacting the Aurors?"
Willow nodded, pointing at her pocket. "All the time."
He really needed to get her a shrinking trunk one of these days.
"Good. Well, I'll see you on the Quidditch Field, little sister."
That seemed to make her smile. "See you, Harry."
The next week, they had a surprise when Snape showed up to teach Defense, and skipped the class ahead to the chapter on Werewolves. Harry and friends wondered what was up with that, since real Slytherins like Snape didn't just do things on a whim.
They couldn't ponder it long, however, as Quidditch season was about to start.
Notes:
Bets are now open for who loses their broom during Quidditch. Kidding, but you're welcome to guess. Chapter 20 will be up in a few days. We're down to the last 8 or 9 chapters before Great Horror ends.
Chapter 20: Evil in the Skies
Notes:
Sorry I've been gone for a bit. Been a rough week with, well, depression, and also my computer broke down again, but we got it properly fixed now.
Chapter Text
Willow
Tracey was moving too fast, and not just in Quidditch. In the span of a summer, the half-vampire had gone from 'cute friend of my brother' to 'kind of my girlfriend.'
Tracey unnerved her a little, if she was being honest, not because Tracey could probably snap her neck like a twig while they were alone. She oddly trusted her not to do that. What bothered Willow was how strong Tracey's need seemed to run, almost like the other girl was desperate for a connection.
Harry had asked her how they were doing, and Willow knew she should've said something, but a thought had gotten into her during their conversation: What if Tracey was only feigning interest in her so Harry could keep tabs on her?
She wanted to believe in Harry's goodness, but her brother was nothing if not cunning.
It didn't help the only person she trusted enough to talk to about this was Remus Lupin.
He'd said half-vampires, while possessing a degree of mind-influencing power, had nothing on Veela, and that was how he'd gotten her to start taking regular doses of a potion that protected against Veela (and Vampire) allure.
The problem was she wasn't sure it was working, because she still found Tracey incredibly distracting.
Willow, focus, Charra's voice interrupted her thoughts.
Willow blinked, and pushed thoughts of Tracey, Harry, and potential plots out of her mind. She had a match to win.
Her determination wavered when she saw the Seeker flying against her wasn't Malfoy.
Tracey
Tracey didn't love Quidditch. It was a fine hobby, she supposed, but she'd only really been in it to fly. Nick wouldn't have bought her a Cleansweep Five, let alone a broom people actually still used. She figured the Slytherin Team would be willing to get her one if she proved herself useful, and they had, though not exactly the way she thought.
Despite what Muggles believed, Vampires couldn't fly on their own, and Half-Vampires like herself most certainly couldn't.
On a broom might've been the next best thing, though she didn't appreciate the seating on a broom. Even riding through the dark skies (it looked like it would rain) above the Quidditch Pitch on the Nimbus 2001 she'd gotten for free, Tracey couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with a bloody wooden stick between her legs.
A Bludger whizzed at Flint - well, whizzed might've been a strong word. To her, they moved slowly enough that she could keep track with only a little effort, even though it was raining and the cold brought an uncomfortable chill. She casually redirected the iron ball with her Beater's Bat and it nearly hit Angelina Johnson before one of the Weasley Terrors swooped in just in time to divert it.
She wondered if she could convince those two to get their father to enchant a motorbike for her, or something. Mama always went on about how she used to love racing with her Kawasaki at night. It was how she'd got bitten. Maybe if she got some dirt on a rival Quidditch team to trade for it.
Focus, Ashes communicated. The gray cat was watching somewhere in the stands.
I'm fine, Ashes, Tracey answered. Not like I'm the only Beater.
As if to prove her right, Harry suddenly deflected a Bludger straight into his sister, who just barely managed to dive out of its path. She wondered how Harry did it.
He does not let his feelings control him, Ashes supplied.
Tracey wished Ashes could hear her snort. I meant how he manages to use his bat almost as good as me when he's only human.
She effortlessly deflected the other Bludger, trying for Oliver Wood that time, though the Weasleys had him covered, and directed it at their sister. Ginny had managed to make Substitute Seeker for Slytherin during the tryouts.
Malfoy had been stupid and stuck to exaggerating his arm injury. Instead of suspending the match, Flint had given the go-ahead to use Ginny, to Malfoy's chagrin.
Tracey sighed and swiftly stopped said ball from Bludgeoning their newest teammate. She hoped Ginny caught the Snitch soon so they could get out of this blasted rain.
Willow
Harry and Tracey didn't have to try so hard, Willow thought. It felt strange, having her brother and her, well, whatever Tracey and she were, hurling iron balls at her that could potentially leave her in the hospital wing. She'd been a lot more wary of the things after second year.
It was bad enough that Harry seemed to develop his Beater skills out of nowhere, but Tracey was half vampire. She could probably be half-asleep and still get the Bludgers most of the time. Putting the two of them together on a team was just evil, plain and simple.
And then there'd been Slytherin's surprise new Seeker: Ginny. Wood had gotten intel on Slytherin's lineup beforehand, but somehow Ginny had slipped through his informants. The redhead rode a Nimbus 2001, same as the rest of the Slytherin team, and dogged Willow through the air better than Malfoy ever did. It wasn't pure skill, exactly: She'd known Ginny since before she'd ever met Harry, so the redhead knew how Willow thought, where she'd be likely to fly, and so on.
Fortunately, Ginny showed signs of being nervous about her first match: she paid more attention to Willow than their surroundings. A streak of gold flew behind the Slytherin Seeker, and Willow did her best not to look smug. She flew straight towards the other Seeker, who quickly dove down to evade. The Snitch gleamed ahead, nearly in her reach. Willow reached her left hand forward, her right keeping its grip on her Nimbus 2000.
Watch out! Charra's voice echoed in her head, and she changed direction just in time to see a Bludger nearly hitting her dead-on.
Bloody hell! She'd almost had it! She glared in Harry's direction, knowing only he could've calculated where to send the Bludger at the speed she'd been flying.
Tracey was stronger, sure, but her brother had a knack for maneuvering the bloody things. It made sense, considering he owned a pair he used as weapons. He mockingly waved at her before returning to the center of the field where the Slytherin Chasers were giving Gryffindor trouble.
Thanks, Charra, Willow communicated. She'd asked the Heliopath not to help her with Quidditch, but it wasn't like she could ignore it when Charra told her she was about to get hit. If the Girl Who Lived survived the Dark Lord only to be killed or put in a coma by Quidditch, she'd never forgive herself. Even so, it still felt too much like cheating.
Her attention suddenly caught on a strange sight in the stands: A shaggy, black dog that seemed to be intently watching the game. How had it gotten there?
The question went unanswered as she saw a golden gleam pass by again.
Ginny streaked past her, straight towards it. Willow gritted her teeth and tore through the air after her. Her Nimbus 2000 might've been a year older, but when push came to shove, she could keep up with the newer model.
She and Ginny were neck and neck, soaring higher as the Snitch ascended, the chill, wet air buffeting her face. Ginny yelped as a Bludger collided with her broom, courtesy of one of her brothers, and suddenly Willow was alone. The Snitch was almost at its altitude limit, so she only needed to stay on it a bit more before it had to come back down.
The golden ball finally stopped climbing and veered around sharply, returning to a lower altitude. Willow grinned. It was practically going straight to her. She shuddered, a sudden chill seeping into her. She'd been cold, certainly, but the adrenaline had kept it at bay for the most part. No, she knew this feeling. She'd experienced it once already.
Dementors! Charra practically screamed in her head.
Willow snapped to just as perhaps a dozen Dementors came flying out of the clouds. She did what anyone with sense would do and abandoned the Snitch, swooping out of the Dementors' reach. What the bloody hell were they doing on the school grounds? She swore loudly, knowing no one would hear her so far up.
Her wand and the mirror for contacting the Aurors were both in the lockers. She hadn't wanted to risk breaking them if she got hit by a Bludger.
Despite being faster on a broom, the Dementors' influence started to overwhelm her. Images of Voldemort, green light, and her mother's death started flooding Willow's head. Her broom began to slow.
I'm coming! Charra communicated as the Dementors drew closer. Keep moving!
Willow did not keep moving. She didn't see the point. Voldemort was going to come back someday and kill her and Harry, anyway. What did it matter if she died now or later? Hell, she'd kind of died already in the Chamber.
Better to just let it end. She'd even get to skip out on her Muggle Studies homework.
Stupid girl, I didn't save your life just so you could throw it away! Charra's voice screamed.
The cold suddenly receded, and with it, some of the Dementors' influence. Willow could think again, and nearly screamed when she found herself surrounded by a ring of fire. The Dementors lurked beyond it, seemingly unsure of what to make of the flames.
I can't hold them for long! Charra said. Wake up, damn you!
She saw it, too: Where the Dementors touched, the flames seemed to shrink and shrivel, as if their cold could snuff out even the brightest blaze. It didn't help that it was still raining.
Thank you, Charra, Willow communicated, and then she focused on the ring of fire, and willed it to obey.
Harry
A ring of fire blazed above. Against the dark skies and November chill, it was a bright, orange circle that had no right to exist. Harry knew exactly one person who would do that, and that she'd never do it without reason. Sure enough, dark shapes that could only be Dementors poked at the edges of the flaming ring.
Prydwen, open. Compartment seven.
The Prydwen, his flying trunk, flew out of his robes, expanded to full size, and Harry retrieved the communication mirror from where he'd stored it and his wand in case he needed them. He wasn't about to go into Quidditch without them, knowing Dementors were lurking about the school. Fortunately, a shrinkable, flying trunk gave him a way to make sure they wouldn't break.
"Auror Savage," he told the mirror. Seconds later, a woman's face appeared on the mirror, looking surprised by whom she was seeing.
"Mister Potter?" she asked. "This better be important."
"Dementors are on the Quidditch Pitch," Harry said. "They're swarming a student in midair."
The woman suddenly looked serious. "On our way!"
The image faded from the mirror and Harry tucked it back into the Prydwen, retrieving his wand and its holster. He didn't know if Willow had her wand, but even if she did, she couldn't cast the Patronus. Harry didn't fancy using his again, but if he had to, he would.
He tucked his Beater's Bat into the trunk and shrunk the Prydwen back into his pocket. It could fly, but it would never be able to keep up with a Nimbus 2001 on its own.
"Harry!" Tracey yelled, hand outstretched. "Please!"
They shared a glance. Tracey didn't have her wand, but she could cast an Incorporeal Patronus. Harry deliberated for only a second before handing her his wand. "Go to her. I'll tell Dumbledo-"
He stopped, because his eyes couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Ring of Fire had collapsed, gathered into a single flaming line, and now trailed after Willow as she rapidly lost altitude. The Dementors gave chase, but the concentrated flames seemed to give them some trouble.
Willow looked like she'd strapped a rocket to her broom, trailing fire in her wake. No, Harry realized, she looked like a comet falling from the heavens.
"Well, aren't you going?" Harry asked Tracey, who was staring at his sister with her mouth open.
She handed him back his wand. "I think she's fine. Anyone ever tell you your sister is hot?"
Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head at her.
Suddenly, a bright light flew from the Faculty Box, and a brilliant white phoenix soared upwards to meet Willow. Dumbledore's Patronus, if Harry had to guess. Phoenixes weren't exactly common animals.
He tucked his wand back into the trunk and took his Beater's Bat, signaling Tracey to do the same. Maybe they could thin the Gryffindor team out a bit while everyone was distracted.
Slytherin won by a hundred and sixty points. While Willow and the Dementors were making a spectacle, Ginny had caught the Snitch.
Harry should've been happy, but he wasn't in a celebratory mood. It wasn't because they'd won by happenstance. He was fine with things working out in his favor from time to time. No, he was bummed out because Willow's Nimbus 2000 hadn't gotten out unscathed.
He hadn't gotten too good a look at it, but the broom had been a mess, with its bristles charred, the wood cracked and blackened in places. It was a wonder Willow herself hadn't gotten burned. She wasn't fireproof or anything, as far as Harry knew.
And if the Gryffindor Team couldn't fix the Nimbus 2000, they'd probably give Willow a new broom, which was ominous, considering a new one called the Firebolt of all things had come out during the summer.
He didn't fancy his sister, who could keep up with a Nimbus 2001 on a 2000, riding around on a superior model. He'd brought his concerns up with the team only to have them dismissed.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Flint said.
"Not even my father could buy a Firebolt," Malfoy said. He'd been watching from the stands, but came down to the locker room to celebrate their win.
"I thought you were fabulously rich," Harry retorted.
Malfoy fumed. "I meant they're not for sale to the general public yet. Only the major professional Quidditch teams have gotten Firebolts. If she wants a new broom, she could settle for the Thunderbolt."
Harry gave him a blank stare that could've been interperted as 'are you stupid,' but in truth, Harry had never heard of the Thunderbolt.
"I know it's unsafe," Malfoy said quickly. "I'm not actually suggesting they'd put your sister on that deathtrap of a broom."
Harry shrugged. He'd gotten what he wanted to know. "Just something to keep in mind."
He strode past Flint and towards Ginny, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. "Excellent work."
Ginny frowned. "I just grabbed the Snitch when no one was paying attention."
"Winning is as much about exploiting opportunities as it is good flying," Harry said. "Fred and George will understand."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean they won't tease me about it."
"They'd've done that even if we lost," Harry reminded her, and that seemed to put their new Seeker at ease. He glanced at Malfoy, who'd been up in arms about a Weasley joining the team as a substitute for his position. The boy only gave him a sad look, as if to say he couldn't jeopardize his position in Slytherin by being chummy with a Weasley.
Harry sighed. Ginny had been doing well for herself, even had friends after a bit of effort. Most of Slytherin actually found it amusing 'one of the Blood Traitors had turned from her own kind and returned to the fold.' Harry wouldn't have put it so crassly, but it was a lot better than Ginny being cast out for being a Weasley.
Her joining the Slytherin Team was a big leap for her. She needed it, considering she was already in second year. He hadn't even had anything to do with it. She'd just figured it out on her own.
He found Tracey waiting outside as he exited the locker room. He gave her a brief nod. He'd been expecting her. Willow had gone to the infirmary following the Dementor attack. People wouldn't be too suspicious if it looked like Tracey was just tagging along with Willow's brother.
"Maybe we should get her a replacement broom," Tracey suddenly said as they walked back to the Castle.
"A Cleansweep, maybe?" Harry answered. He'd been thinking the same. Better than letting Gryffindor hand her a Firebolt or Nimbus 2001.
"Well, I was thinking a replacement 2000," Tracey admitted.
"She flies too fast on a 2000," Harry commented.
"No reason she'd use a Cleansweep Seven, though," Tracey countered. "Gryffindor know their strengths, and Chasers are not it. It's why they got her the 2000 when it was new in the first place."
"She might use it if you gave it to her," Harry suggested, but the cold stare Tracey gave him quickly made him shut up.
Translation: Tracey would not let Harry or anyone else use her relationship with Willow as a tool. Harry nodded, to say the message was loud, clear, and filed away for future reference.
"Sorry," Harry said. "You're right. The status quo would be better than letting them give her something faster."
He stopped talking, realizing he'd just found a good excuse to dig into Tracey's home life.
"Would you mind pitching in half?" Harry asked.
Tracey snorted. "Finally drained your trust vault?" It was a poor deflection, but a deflection, nonetheless.
"Hardly," Harry said. "I just thought, since you brought it up," he trailed off.
Tracey sighed. "So you and Daph did talk about me."
"I beg your pardon?"
She sighed again. "I can pay you back at some point, but it's not like I'm drowning in cash. Why'd you think I really joined the Quidditch Team?"
Harry stopped walking and looked at her. "I can cover it, but isn't your dad some big shot journalist?"
Tracey seemed to hesitate, and then, making sure no one was listening in, put up a silencing charm.
Harry raised a hand to stop her before she spoke. "In the name of Salazar, give us privacy."
The wall immediately to his left began to shift as the Castle created a cavity within the walls in which they could speak privately.
He beckoned Tracey to follow him in, and then the wall closed itself behind them.
"Lumos," they said at the same time, and found they were in what was essentially an empty room with no furniture or anything. Just what he'd expected, really.
"Mama's sick," Tracey said. Her tone lacked its usual mischief. In the dim wandlight, she looked absolutely miserable.
"Muggle or Magical?"
"Werewolf bite."
Harry's brow furrowed. He'd skimmed the werewolf part of their Defense books, and done the homework for Snape. "So she's a vampire werewolf?"
Tracey shook her head. "Doesn't work that way, I'm afraid. Her body rejects the lycanthropy. The strain it causes her when the two conditions fight each other is painful, so she's usually asleep."
"Draught of Peace?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, administered daily," Tracey said.
"Is there a cure?"
"There's no cure for Lycanthropy, Harry," Tracey answered. "The Healers put her on Wolfsbane for a bit and she could actually walk and talk again, but, well," she trailed off.
Harry motioned for her to continue.
"Wolfsbane is difficult to prepare, and expensive," Tracey said. "We only paid for one dose before my dad decided he wasn't paying for it."
"But he could afford it?"
Tracey seemed to hesitate again before nodding.
"Does he not care?" Harry asked. Was it him or had the room gotten hotter?
"He only ever cared about Mama because she could use her powers to get secrets out of people," Tracey said. "And good sex, as he keeps telling me. They only married because he got her pregnant."
"And your mother went along with it?" Harry asked.
Tracey suddenly snapped at him. "What was she supposed to do, Harry? A Muggle whose first exposure to magic was getting bitten by a vampire one night? Mama took the only choice she had, even if it meant letting my cunt of a father take advantage of her."
"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I, of all people, should know what it's like to have no choice but let people take advantage of you. How much is the potion?"
Tracey narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? No, that's a stupid question." She sighed. "What do you want in exchange?"
"You'll need to tell me how much it is, first," Harry said.
"Fifty Galleons per bottle," Tracey said. "Taken daily, with a double dose before the full moon."
"A bottle a month?" Harry asked.
A nod.
Harry considered. The money wasn't a huge issue. He dropped more than that would cost him in a year on his summer projects.
"I told you it was expensive," she said.
"I'll pay for it."
If he'd expected her to be surprised, he was sorely disappointed. The only expression on Tracey's face was suspicion, and perhaps a tinge of embarrassment.
"So, what's it gonna cost me?" Tracey asked. "You want me to stay away from your sister? Or - or, do you want me to -"
"I just want to know why Daphne knows about this and it's still a problem," Harry said before Tracey could say anything else. "And before you ask, no, she didn't tell me. It just came up you had a problem she couldn't help with."
"She offered to help, too," Tracey said. "But my father didn't agree to Lady Greengrass' terms."
Right. Daphne wasn't Head of her House. Big decisions had to go through her mother.
"What did Victoria want?"
"Just a written agreement that my father wouldn't personally publish anything that would reflect poorly on House Greengrass. It's not like she was asking the entire Daily Prophet."
"Does your father care that much about journalistic integrity?"
Tracey scoffed. "Hell no. He just didn't like being beholden to House Greengrass. He doesn't care enough about Mama to go that far."
Harry nodded, pulled out his Money Bag and whispered, "Six hundred Galleons, transferred to Tracey Davis."
There was no physical phenomenon to observe, but Harry knew Gringotts had transferred the amount to Tracey's account, or would within a few minutes.
"Hey, hold on!" Tracey said. "You didn't say what you wanted in exchange yet!"
"I told you: I just wanted to know why you and Daphne couldn't solve it before now."
"I don't hate charity, Harry, but this is too much!"
"Well, I'm definitely not fooling around with you if that's what you're offering," Harry said. "My sister is into you, for Pete's sake."
"Now there's an expression I don't hear often," Tracey said. "So, what do you want, then?"
"You and your mother swear fealty to House Potter," Harry said bluntly. "And I'll either provide the funds for the Potion yearly or provide you with a finished batch whenever you need it, once I learn how, I mean. We can work out the details later."
"My father is never going to-"
"That's why I said you and your mother," Harry said. "I don't need trash in my House. Besides, someday you might be in House Potter as my sister-in-law or something."
She seemed to hesitate once more, but eventually nodded. "Thank you, Harry."
"No problem," Harry said. "Now, what say we get out of this empty space in the wall and to my sister before we run out of oxygen?"
Chapter 21: Secrets Unlocked
Notes:
Putting up Chapters 21 and 22 today. If all goes well, I'll be putting up the last five or so chapters next weekend.
Chapter Text
With Christmas around the corner, the students once again made their trip to Hogsmeade, and Harry, once again, was stuck in the Castle. Though honestly, he preferred it over being out in the open where he was more vulnerable. A bit of shopping and sightseeing in a village wasn't worth stepping away from Hogwarts' defences.
Dumbledore had beefed security up since Black's last appearance, though Harry hadn't seen it himself. He trusted Tracey to keep an eye on Willow better than he could, and to come to him if something came up she couldn't solve on her own. Tracey's Familiar apparently hanged around Gryffindor Tower a lot.
According to her, they'd stationed trained Security Trolls at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower as an alternative to letting the Dementors inside. Minister Fudge had ordered it.
Harry wasn't impressed. Willow had killed her first Troll two years ago with a lighter and barely any magical training. For someone like Black or even Harry, they would do nothing more than slow him down. They should've put Aurors, instead.
While his friends were at Hogsmeade, and he knew Willow and Susan were with Lupin again, Harry spent the day in the Chamber, practicing some of the more advanced things he'd been reading about Runes and his lessons from Flitwick in the metalworking club.
His first personal project was modifying a Self-Writing Quill to follow mental commands instead of spoken words. Getting it to write his thoughts hadn't been too difficult, but getting it to write only what he wanted it to was another thing.
Why do you bother with this? Nyx asked as the quill wrote down 'How do I stop this stupid Quill from writing everything?'
Because you can write Runes with a special Potion as ink instead of carving them, Harry explained.
And?
If I can get this thing working like I want, I could theoretically use it to draw runes remotely.
You have a wand.
And I could use this without pulling my wand out.
Can't you just attach sharp objects to your Bludgers and call it a day? Nyx asked. Or, I don't know, reforge your Key into something that can actually cut people more than half an inch?
Harry stopped working on the Quill, and stared at Nyx, seated on a table with a bored expression. "That is," he paused, considered, "actually a really good idea. Daphne suggested the same thing over the summer, but I kind of forgot. I wonder how hot it'll have to be for the alien metal to melt."
He made his way to the smelter, which, by the nature of being magical, could be operated by someone like him who had no business working hot metal. It helped that Quetzal had been imparted with knowledge of how to operate the various devices in the Chamber.
True smelting was doubtless more complicated, but in this case, all Harry had to do was put the Key inside a Cauldron-shaped receptacle, turn the heat up until it melted, and then transfer the molten metal into a mold and wait until it hardened again.
He could then use an enchanted grindstone to sharpen the metal, regardless of how hard it was. He made a mental note to figure out how to copy enchantment of said grindstone one day, but until then, this would have to do.
"So, what's an appropriate shape?" he asked aloud in Parseltongue. He wanted to create a mold before he actually started heating the metal, in case it melted too quickly.
"Sssword," Nyx said. "Fitsss your King Arthur naming theme."
"I don't know if that'sss my thing," Harry answered. "Quetzal?"
"I'd sssay make it ssshaped like a fang," the ghostly Basilisk suggested.
"I kind of like that," Harry admitted. "Ssso, how do we do thisss?"
It turned out not to be so difficult. As Heritor of Slytherin, he could simply command the stone mold to take whatever shape he wished by invoking Salazar's name, much like the rest of the Castle. He willed it into a form approximately the size and shape of the Basilisk Fang he'd used to kill Riddle.
And me, Nyx reminded him. Don't forget you used it to kill me, too.
I thought you said you were cool with it now?
"Doesssn't mean I'll ssstop bringing it up," Nyx answered.
Next came actually melting his Key down into liquid form so it could be reshaped. He set the smelter to five hundred degrees celsius first, just to try it. The metal hissed as the heat manipulated it.
He willed it back out of the smelter. The Key held firm, though he'd expected that.
Next was a thousand degrees celsius, and the Key still didn't melt. Harry kind of wished he could bring Flitwick down there to prove the Key wasn't made of silver, which melted under a thousand, but that was a can of worms he'd rather not open.
He cranked it up in increments until he had it at a thousand and five hundred. The smelter's heat had been radiating across the room, hotter than the hottest summer day, and at a thousand and five hundred, Harry had to actually cast Glacius just to keep himself from keeling over.
He made a mental note to invest in heatproof clothing before he tried to do any more work with metal. He willed the Key out of the smelter again. The surface of the metal seemed to bubble from the heat, but it retained its shape like before.
Harry sighed and cast a few protective spells over himself and Nyx to ward against the heat. Better safe than sorry.
Ten minutes later, he'd turned up the heat to two thousand and though the Key seemed fluid, its shape unbelievably still held. It was like someone put wet silver paint in an invisible mold. He was starting to wonder how Carter had shaped it into a Key in the first place. Actually, how did he know Carter shaped it? The Observer might've given it to him in exactly that form.
"What if thisss isss one of thossse thingsss that wasss forged in a volcano? Or the heart of a dying ssstar?" Harry mused. "And can only be reforged in the firesss from which it came?"
"Perhapsss the Creator could help?" Quetzal suggested.
Harry considered. Daphne had said Salazar's memory (or whatever he was) wanted to meet him, and she'd made him sound amicable rather than the pure blood elitist history said he was.
It didn't change the fact that Harry had sort of taken control of the Chamber without doing it the proper way. He believed Daphne, of course, but it wouldn't be the first time a magical, sapient memory had gotten one over her.
No, he decided. Asking Salazar was far too risky. Perhaps if there was a crisis and he really needed help, but he wasn't going to take such a risk just to change the shape of his Key.
"I think he'd prefer if I figured it out myssself," Harry answered.
Quetzal didn't have to know he suspected her Creator not being good with Harry becoming Heritor the way he had. Still, that pushed him back to square one. The Key refused to melt, and he didn't really want to keep cranking the heat up without better protection.
A bitter taste in his mouth, Harry left the Chamber. He'd have spent more time working on his modified Quill instead if he'd known it would be so hard to reshape such a small piece of metal.
"It wouldn't melt?" Theo asked over dinner.
Harry shook his head. "Shape stayed the same even when it looked like it was bubbling."
Theo frowned. "Really?"
Harry shot him a glance that asked 'Why? Is that weird?'
"If it's bubbling," Daphne chimed in, her tone matter-of-fact. "That means the metal is melting."
It was Harry's turn to frown. "Then why isn't the shape changing?"
"You sure it's not keeping the shape because you keep thinking of it as a Key?" Theo asked.
"That's insane," Daphne said.
"No, no," Blaise interjected. "He's got a point. The first time it floated, Harry couldn't control it until someone suggested he could."
"It's worth a shot," Harry said. He couldn't try it in the Great Hall with everyone there, of course, but what harm would it do to try it after?
"Two and a half years," Harry spoke. "Two and a half years I've had this thing and I still don't understand it."
He was in the Lakescape Room with Theo, Daphne, and Blaise. Tracey had made some excuse to go off and meet Willow. Harry couldn't even remember what it was. Something about Muggle Studies homework.
The 'Key' floated in front of him, except it was no longer in its usual shape. He'd taken Theo's suggestion and simply willed it to change, and now the metal swirled about like silver liquid in the air.
"So," Daphne began, sounding as flabbergasted as Harry had ever heard her, "It really was holding its shape because you thought of it as stricly a key?"
"Must've been," Harry answered. "I dunno how else I'd explain it maintaining its shape while clearly boiling in the smelter."
Daphne shook her head in disbelief. "Utterly bizarre."
Harry focused, imagining the silvery substance forming a blade. It warped in front of his eyes, and only managed to form a hilt, with maybe a fifth of a sword jutting out of it.
"It's alright, mate," Blaise said. "It's not the size that matters. It's what you do with it."
"You would know, Blaise," Theo quipped.
"I'll have you know, my size doesn't leave-"
Daphne scoffed. "Get a room, you two."
Harry ignored the verbal sparring and simply willed the metal into something smaller: a silver-colored Snitch. The wings didn't actually work, but it wasn't like the Key had ever needed wings to fly.
"That was pretty fast," Daphne commented.
"What was?"
"Changing shape," Daphne answered. "It's almost like a Transfiguration spell."
Harry hummed in thought. "I suppose that's right."
He willed it into another shape: This time, a circular sawblade about the size of his fist. "Imagine if I snuck it onto someone's person as a liquid, and then turned it into something like this."
Just cut the middleman out, Nyx communicated. She looked pleased her idea had borne such fruit. Make the liquid sharp.
Harry pondered the words for a moment. He raised his wand. "Ferula."
Bandages appeared in midair, falling slowly. He willed the silver liquid to strike, and it did so, slammming the bandage into the far wall.
He walked up to it and frowned. The bandage hadn't been cut at all. Perhaps there was a limit to how much he could manipulate the substance at once. Still, it was a lot more than he had at the start of the day.
"My to-do list never ceases to expand," he complained aloud.
Tracey
"She really did that?" Tracey asked, laughing.
"Oh, yeah, Sue's all subdued in public, but she's a total goof when no one's watching," Willow answered.
They'd met, as they usually did, in the Room of Requirement on their favorite couch. Ashes lurking about Gryffindor Tower to watch for Black proved convenient for letting Willow slip word to Tracey when she was free to meet.
"What about you? Is your mother feeling better?" Willow asked.
Tracey beamed. "Yeah, I'm going home tonight to see her."
"What? Why aren't you with her now?" Willow asked.
"Well, I was planning to leave earlier, but then Ashes said you looked like you could use some company."
"Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry!" Willow bowed her head slightly in apology. "I didn't mean to keep you from your-"
"Willow, relax," Tracey said calmly, though the other girl's thoughtfulness sent sparks throughout her body. "Mama's fine now, thanks to Harry. And I'll be flooing home to spend the next few days with her. I could give you the afternoon."
Willow bit her lip, the way she did when she seemed unsure about something, and then finally asked, "Did Harry really just give you the money? I could've but-"
"He did ask me and mother to swear loyalty to House Potter," Tracey answered. "And you don't have Harry's resources."
"We should be getting the same amount from the vaults," Willow said, but Tracey only shook her head.
"Maybe, but he's definitely got a bit more than you do right now, and trust me: It's not a bargain I mind at all. If anything, being retainers to House Potter makes me feel safer."
"It's not much of a House, though," Willow countered. "I mean, we don't technically have an actual house."
"Details. You're living with your legal guardian, Harry with his. Besides, what's the point of a house you only get to use during the summer?" Tracey smiled. "You two can sort that out when you're almost done with school."
"What about your dad?" Willow asked. "It sounds like he'd be against this."
"Mama can handle him," Tracey said confidently. "Now that she's awake. Stop worrying so much."
"Oh, fine, fine, but you'll tell me if you're ever in any trouble, right?" Willow asked.
Tracey smiled. "Of course."
"Ah, wait," Willow said as they descended the stairs under Willow's Invisibility Cloak. They were almost back down to the second floor, where they usually parted.
"Did you want a goodbye kiss?" Tracey teased.
Willow froze. It was predictable, but Tracey couldn't seem to get tired of it. "Er, I was just thinking I should go ask Professor Lupin if he was willing to help me out with the Patronus charm."
"Don't I already help you with the Patronus charm?"
Willow shook her head, then looked away. "I can't always produce it, especially when-" she trailed off.
"When?"
"When I'm on my own," Willow finished.
Tracey almost looked away herself, but she could control her emotions almost as well as Daphne. "Ah, performance anxiety? Fine, but I'm not letting you wander there alone," Tracey said. "Who knows what perverted lowlife might ambush an innocent maiden at this hour?"
Willow seemed about to make a comment about how Tracey was more likely to ambush her than anyone else in the castle, but relented. "If you insist."
They made their way to Lupin's office, taking the Invisibility Cloak off just as they were about to knock. The door suddenly swung open, and out stepped Professor Snape, staring at the two of them with barely-concealed surprise.
"Good evening, Miss Potter, Miss Davis," he spoke.
Willow seemed stunned by being caught with her, so Tracey took the lead. "Good evening, Professor. Fancy running into you here."
Snape smiled thinly. "I was simply delivering some medicine to Professor Lupin. It's that time of the month again."
Tracey considered the words. Snape hadn't needed to say that much. What was his angle?
"Will you be filling in for him again, Professor?" Tracey asked.
"If I must," Snape drawled. Translation: Yes.
"I look forward to it, then." Tracey smiled. "Your lessons have a certain gravitas."
Snape huffed. "Conduct your business with Professor Lupin, then return to your dorms."
He then glided away in the direction of the Slytherin Dungeons. The door swung open and Lupin ushered the two of them inside.
"Good evening, Remus," Willow said.
"Evening, Professor," Tracey added.
Lupin smiled. "Willow! Miss Davis! What can I do for you?"
A single bottle on Lupin's table caught Tracey's eye. It was open, and Lupin seemed to have been in the middle of pouring a goblet of the contents for himself when they'd entered. Even in the dim light, she could see faint blue smoke coming from it.
It seemed oddly familiar. Where had she seen it before? It felt rude to ask Lupin what it was.
"I was hoping you could help me learn the Patronus charm," Willow said.
"Well, I'm glad you came to me," Lupin said. "But I'm not certain how I could help. You already know the incantation, the movement, and the requirement."
"Well, Professor," Willow said. "I was hoping you could let me practice on the Boggart, like you suggested before."
"It's worth a shot," Lupin said. "It would be safer than practicing with a real one, at least."
Tracey's thoughts, however, lingered on the bottle as Willow and Lupin worked out the specifics.
It was only when she got back home and saw her mother's medicine that Tracey put two and two together.
Chapter 22: Unexpected Gifts
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It might've been the least lonely Christmas Harry had ever had - Not because he was spending it at Bones Manor with Willow and Susan and Amelia, no. It was because all of his friends had found excuses to stay in Hogwarts over the holidays rather than return to their families. The only exceptions had been Theo and Justin, who couldn't stay for reasons they didn't wish to divulge. And of course, Tracey, who wanted to spend Christmas with her mother.
"You're all daft," Harry chided as he and his friends gathered around their present piles. "You know I'm perfectly safe."
"Who the hell said this was about you?" Daphne shot back, though they all knew she was kidding. They'd all stayed because they knew Harry would be in the mostly-abandoned castle Black had already infiltrated once.
"Yeah, I'm just looking for mistletoe opportunities," Blaise added. That one, Harry was pretty sure wasn't a lie.
"Happy Christmas, you dimwits," Harry said, before opening his first present.
He'd decided to go for the presents that had no 'teeth' first, like Neville's and Hermione's. Neville had gotten him a herbology book called "A Treatise on the Nature of Magical Flora and Their Applications" by Groot Diesel.
Hermione's gift was a book on enchantment entitled "Creating Magical Toys on a Budget" by Nicholas Klaus. In turn, he'd given Neville a wand care kit for his new wand. Hermione he'd gotten cat supplies for Crookshanks.
Deciding whether Ginny or Justin had a more harmless gift, he'd wound up going with Ginny. Justin might not have been in Slytherin, but Harry knew he was more Slytherin than half of the actual House.
Ginny's gift, as usual, was an assortment of sweets, though these apparently came from a candy store in Hogsmeade. He'd gotten her a pair of new quidditch gloves in return.
He and Willow had traded books for Christmas. She'd given him a book on Dark creatures that he didn't have the heart to tell her he already owned a copy of, and in turn, he'd gotten her a muggle book called "So, You Like Other Girls" by Amity Blight. Daphne had given him a blank stare when she'd seen it and said 'Wizards don't care about that kind of thing.'
Harry hadn't really been able to figure another gift out, however.
He'd gotten Tracey the exact same book, more for his amusement than anything else. He'd gotten a quick-quotes quill in exchange, since she knew he was experimenting with them.
Harry eyed the more potentially dangerous gifts in his pile and decided to get it over with.
Daphne's gift was a simple, silver ring with a small piece of what was either jade or emerald embedded in it. It came with a note explaining it was a one-time, untraceable Portkey to Greengrass Manor. He knew he could come and go as he pleased via Floo, but the gesture touched him, as if saying he could always count on her help.
Anticipating she'd give him something good, he'd gotten her a small sculpture, probably twelve inches in height, of a dashing knight on a steed made of nevermelting ice. He'd have preferred if it could move, but felt spending any more would've been excessive for a Christmas present.
Theo had gotten the same idea, it seemed, and bestowed him a Portkey to Nott Manor. It was an obsidian amulet shaped like a skull attached to an unlockable silver necklace that might've fit his Key once upon a time. Now that Harry could shape said Key at will, it most definitely did fit.
While just as useful, a Portkey to Nott Manor didn't confer nearly the same safety Daphne's did. After all, Lord Nott was a known Death Eater. He could still use it to evade non-Voldemort-related threats, but it was too risky when dealing with the Dark Lord.
Blaise continued to break the tradition of gifting him hair product in favor of a small potion bottle with a note explaining it would cure most common poisons and worked faster than a Bezoar, which he appreciated after the mishap with Nyx, not that he thought it would work on Basilisk Venom.
His gift to Blaise was a simple box of muggle items labeled 'for your eyes only' that Harry spent as little time thinking about as possible.
He thanked each of his friends who were present and then they were off to breakfast. There was an odd commotion over at the Gryffindor table, louder than usual, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what it was about. Maybe Neville would tell him later.
"Harry," Daphne suddenly said from his left shoulder. She had Pansy next to her, who clearly looked more anxious than anything else.
Daphne gave him a look that said 'Private chat.' He nodded subtly and said he needed to use the bathroom.
He walked out the Great Hall and towards the secluded spot he usually met Willow in, only to stop and turn on his heel when he saw it was occupied. A couple of students were in the middle of what looked like a love confession on Christmas morning and he didn't want to interrupt.
He froze for a moment after turning back to Daphne, and gestured for the girls to follow him into an empty classroom.
"Not the usual spot?" Daphne asked as she closed the door behind her.
"Found two lovebirds in the middle of something and I didn't have the heart to interrupt," Harry explained.
Daphne paused briefly, as if having an internal debate with herself before speaking, "Pansy wanted a word."
Pansy, who'd kept quiet the entire time, finally spoke up. "I've got info about the Gryffindor Quidditch Team."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not Captain, and fates willing, I never will be."
He had an idea why she was coming to him first, though.
"You know how Willow lost her Nimbus 2000?" Pansy asked.
"Yes." He had a bad feeling. He'd tried to get her a replacement 2000 to make sure she didn't get an upgrade. "How bad is it?"
"Well, it wasn't going to be too bad," Pansy said. "McGonagall was going to get her a 2001."
"But?"
"But," Pansy sighed, finally getting to it. "Unless the Gryffindors are pulling an elaborate disinformation campaign, it sounds like she just got a Firebolt for Christmas. I mean as in just now. It came with the mail."
Harry pressed his palm into his forehead. "And we all know the Gryffindors aren't organized enough as a whole to pull a prank like that off."
Fred and George could've. Hermione technically, though she was too much of a stickler to the rules for that. Willow was too much of a goody two shoes, too. Perhaps some of the older Gryffindors could be clever enough, but getting the entire House to play along? No, not even McGonagall could've ordered that. The Firebolt must've been real.
Pansy was giving him a look that said 'Did you do that?'
"No, it wasn't me," Harry said. "I'm not going to give her a Firebolt when I don't have one myself." It couldn't have been Tracey, either, for obvious reasons. "So, what is this information going to cost me?"
"I want into your club," Pansy said, completely blunt.
"And how can I be sure you're not spying on me for Malfoy?" Harry asked, though he didn't really doubt her. He'd observed enough to know a rift had grown between the Malfoy and Parkinson heirs.
Surprisingly, it was Daphne who answered. "She's on her own now, Harry. The Malfoy and Parkinson arrangement is off. Lady Parkinson told my mother as much. Lord Parkinson was furious over the Basilisk episode."
Harry made a thoughtful hum, then gave Pansy a severe look. "Do you have any idea what you're getting into, throwing yourself in with my lot?"
"You lot are probably the brightest witches and wizards between the third and fifth years," Pansy answered. "I've watched you in class. You're only pretending to do third year stuff."
"But do you know why we're working so hard?" Harry asked.
"You're preparing for the Dark Lord's return, I guessed that much," Pansy said.
Harry didn't confirm or deny. "What else have you guessed, detective?"
"You've got a hideout somewhere in the castle where you do all your real studying and research," she continued. "I don't know where it is, but it's got to be somewhere in the Dungeons."
"Suppose I was preparing for Voldemort's return," Harry began, "You know I'd go against him, yes?"
"I think that's obvious, considering you defeated the memory of him."
"But your parents?"
"Coerced into it," Pansy said. "Why do you think they had to promise me to the Malfoys in the first place?"
Harry considered. Her story made sense, but Pansy was more of a Slytherin than most. He had to be sure. "Would you be willing to let Tracey interview you when Holidays are over?"
The unspoken part, of course, was that Tracey would use her talents to tease the truth out of Pansy, just so there could be no doubts. If Tracey and Daphne approved, he'd trust their judgement.
"She already did," Daphne said. "Last night before she left for home."
Of course. He'd asked them to handle Pansy, and they'd done just that. Harry nodded. "Good enough for me. Bring her along next time we convene."
"You won't regret this," Pansy said.
He was about to answer, but then he stopped, lightly rapped his head with his fist for being stupid, and said, "Wait a minute. If the Firebolt wasn't the Gryffindor Team, and it wasn't me, then how do we know it's not a trap?"
They gave each other serious looks before quickly rushing back out of the classroom. The Firebolt could've had a touch-inflicted curse on it or something.
Harry just hoped his sister had sense.
There was a commotion at the table by the time they got back, and Harry feared something had happened.
But the commotion seemed more of bewildered excitement than panic, so Harry let himself calm down a little. "What's going on?"
"Package for you," Theo said, gesturing to a long, brown parcel that was definitely shaped like a broomstick.
He looked further up the table and saw Lucian Bole, the substitue Beater of Slytherin, sitting by himself, pretending not to be interested. "Hey Bole, think you could do me a solid?"
"What is it, Potter?" he asked, now more obviously eyeing the broom-shaped package.
"You probably know a lot of curse-detection charms," Harry said. "You think you could check this real quick before I touch it?"
Bole frowned. "More than you, sure, but I'm not gonna be responsible if you get cursed after I give it a look."
"You won't be," Harry answered. "I just need to know if I can touch it. I'll ask Flitwick to take a look for anything more insidious."
Bole nodded and Harry's friends gave him space to work. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the Gryffindors copying him and having someone from the upper years check Willow's parcel for traps.
"Seems safe to touch," Bole finally said. "Well, go on. Let's see what it is, then."
Harry gave Daphne a knowing look and used a precise Diffindo to cut the packaging off.
A Firebolt lay before him, and for a moment, Harry almost reached out to touch it. He'd wanted one, of course, but he couldn't justify buying one when he had a perfectly good Nimbus 2001.
He inspected the parcel as best as he could without touching it. He was almost sure he wouldn't find a note or anything, but it couldn't hurt to try.
Someone had just sent him and Willow a pair of matching Firebolts without even saying who they were or why. His broom wasn't even broken. What on earth was going on?
"No one touch it," he commanded before heading down the table to his sister.
"Usual spot?" she asked when she saw him approach. He hadn't even gotten a word in.
"If it's not occupied. But yes, a word, please."
Willow nodded. She turned to her Gryffindor friends. "Could you please make sure no one touches it before I get back?"
One of the Gryffindor boys, whose name slipped Harry's mind, nodded.
He was relieved to find their usual meeting spot now free from any private conversations besides his own.
"Before you ask, no, it wasn't me," Harry said.
"Oh, good," Willow said, sounding relieved. "I thought you'd gotten me a broom anyway after I told you the Gryffindor Team would manage on our own."
"Amelia wouldn't give us these, would she?" Harry asked, though he doubted it.
"Doubt it," Willow said. "Besides, if Aunt Amelia had sent us these, I'm sure there'd be a long note about how we shouldn't let Quidditch distract us from our studies and how she'd take them back if we're not responsible with them."
Harry nodded. "Sounds about right. But then, do you have any idea who would?"
"One of your friends, maybe?" Willow suggested. "Aren't the Greengrasses rich?"
"Richer than us, that's for sure," Harry answered. "But no. I doubt it. Daphne already gave me a gift."
He showed her the Portkey ring on his ring finger.
"Merlin, are you two-"
"It's a Portkey," Harry answered quickly.
"Oh, sorry," Willow said. "I just thought with all the time you two spend together, well," she trailed off.
"I don't think I'm cut out for it," Harry admitted. "Actually, how did you and Tracey-"
"What did she tell you?" Willow practically shrieked. Harry was glad he'd gotten so used to casting privacy charms that they'd become second nature to him.
"Not much," Harry said. "She's pretty private about it."
"Thank Merlin, I thought she told you everything," she said, then after a rather long pause, asked, "Why do you think you're not cut out for it?"
"I'm not sure I know how to love," Harry said.
"Because of your time at our uncle's?"
Harry shrugged. "I suppose. Though, sometimes I wonder if it's more than that."
"I guess I'm not the only one having trouble with my first romance," Willow blurted out, then realized what she said. She had that deer in headlights look Harry had read so much about.
"Look, it's not my place to pry," Harry began, as gently as he could. "But is everything alright between you and-"
"Yes! No. Yes!" Willow spluttered, as uncomposed as Harry had ever seen her. "Oh, dammit! Look it's not a big deal, it's just-"
"Calm down, sister," Harry said. "Let's hear it."
Willow's shoulders sagged in defeat. "I like Tracey, I really do, but I'm thirteen! Sometimes, I feel like she's trying to rush me off to get married and live together."
Harry didn't answer at first, processing this new information and comparing it with what he knew about Tracey.
"What do you know about Tracey outside of Hogwarts?" Harry asked.
"Her dad sounds like a git," Willow answered bluntly.
"And her mother?"
"Sick for the longest time, but then you fixed the problem by throwing money at it. Which," Willow paused, seemed to consider her words. "Thanks for that, by the way. It really lifted her spirits."
"I couldn't stand it," Harry said simply. "But I'm glad I could help."
"Did it remind you of-" Willow stopped, because Harry had visibly tensed. Bless his sister for not being dense. "Sorry."
"Do you want me to talk to Tracey?" Harry asked.
Willow shook her head. "Thank you, but no, this is something I have to do," she said. "But I think what you did for her already helped."
Harry was torn. Tracey was his friend, and if her budding romance with Willow helped her deal with her home life, he didn't want to ruin it. On the other hand, it wasn't Willow's (or anyone short of a shrink's) responsibility to heal Tracey's trauma.
"And here I thought you had it easy," Harry said. "Me, I'm not sure I know how to love."
"That can't be right," Willow said, smiling.
"Why not?"
"Because Dumbledore said even Dark Wizards can love," Willow explained. "Only the Darkest ones like Voldemort can't comprehend it."
"Ooh, so that's why I'm in Slytherin," Harry quipped.
Willow punched him in the arm. "Oh, shut up. That's not funny!"
"Anyway, we should have our Firebolts examined, yes?" Harry asked, maneuvering the conversation elsewhere.
"Right," Willow answered. "Maybe Professor McGonagall could look at mine."
"I'll have Flitwick check mine," Harry said.
"Not Snape?"
"No, not Snape," Harry answered simply.
"I thought you two got along," Willow said.
"No, he just doesn't hate me," Harry answered. "But we should get back before Ronald humps your Firebolt or something."
"I- You know, what? I'm not even going to say anything."
"Happy Christmas, sister," Harry said.
"Happy Christmas, Harry."
Some time in the afternoon, Harry finally had some time to himself. He entered the Lakescape Room, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and said, "In the name of Salazar, open a path to the Chamber of Secrets."
As the wall shifted to accommodate him, he heard the entrance to the Lakescape Room open behind him. He whirled on the surprise visitor, wand already in hand, only to find the two identical surprised faces of Fred and George Weasley.
"Blimey," Fred said.
"And here we thought we were dropping a big secret on you," George added.
"Were you looking for me or is this just bad timing?" Harry asked as the revolving stairway behind him finished forming.
"Definitely looking for you," Fred answered.
"And we thought you'd be surprised we found you so easily," George said.
"I am," Harry admitted. "But clearly not as surprised as you finding out I can reshape the Castle."
"Wait," George said. "Does that mean-"
"We don't know what it means, actually," Fred said.
Harry snorted. "Look, maybe I should've told you sooner."
"Wait," George said. "Before you say anything more."
"Is this like a Slytherin secret or does someone else outside-"
"Hermione, Neville, and Justin," Harry answered.
"Does little Ginny know about this?" George asked.
Harry nodded.
"Bloody hell. She didn't say anything. You're a bad influence, Harry," Fred quipped.
"So I've heard," Harry said. "So, two options. You promise to keep this secret, I tell you all about it, and give you access. Or, we pretend this never happened."
"What kind of choice is that?" the Twins asked in unison.
"That's what I thought," Harry said.
In the end, he wound up spending the hour showing them around the Chamber, explaining how he'd become Heritor of Slytherin and what the various facilities were. He said they could use it if they wanted but that they'd need help from either Ginny, Daphne, Nyx, or himself.
"Doesn't seem worth the hassle," George said.
"Might accidentally leave something we'd need in a hurry inside," Fred agreed.
"Good point," Harry said. "Well, if I ever figure out how to get it to open without Parseltongue, I'll tell you. Now, you had a bombshell to drop on me?"
"Uh, no, Harry," Fred said, sounding perplexed. "Why would we?"
"Not fun dropping bombs on people when they expect it," Georged added.
"I take it it's a Muggle expression, then," Harry said. "You said something about a secret?"
"Oh, right," George said, handing Harry a blank piece of parchment. Old parchment, from the look of it.
"I'm waiting for the big explosion," Harry said, inspecting the blank page.
"That right there is the secret to our success," Fred explained.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, mates, I didn't make you two jump through hoops to show you the Chamber."
"And here we thought you were the fun Potter," George tutted.
Fred took out his wand and lightly tapped the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Letters started to scribble themselves on the parchment's surface:
"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present: THE MARAUDER'S MAP"
It took Harry all of ten seconds to process what he was seeing as a map of Hogwarts drew itself on the piece of parchment, accompanied by moving footprints with names attached. He saw a pair of shoes named 'Albus Dumbledore' pacing in his office, 'Hermione' surprisingly not in the library.
"So, this is a real-time display of everyone in the Castle?" Harry asked. "And all of the passages?"
"Yes and no," Fred said.
"There's a few places it can't reach," George explained.
"Like down here," Harry said, noticing the three of them missing from the map. "It's a fascinating device, regardless. Can't fault it for not being able to thwart Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."
"We filched it from Filch's office," Fred said.
"Ooh, good one," George said.
"But you're suddenly showing this to me because?" Harry trailed off.
"We think it'd be better off in your hands," George answered.
"Since you and your sister are being hunted by a killer and all," Fred added.
"Right," Harry said. "And I'm grateful, but why now suddenly?"
"We saw his name earlier," Fred finally admitted.
"Voldemort? Michael Jackson? Elton John?" Harry asked.
"Er, no," George said. "Sirius Black. It looks like he sneaks into the Castle sometimes."
"Mind you," Fred cautioned. "It shows Peter Pettigrew all the time, too, though whenever we look no one's actually there."
"Fascinating," Harry said, looking thoughtfully at the map. "Where does Peter Pettigrew show up, usually?"
"Gryffindor Tower," George answered.
"We think it's on the fritz," Fred said. "He's been moving about more lately, but like we said."
"Never seen him," George finished.
"Well, thank you, boys," Harry said. "I think you've just given me a solution to some problems we've been having. Happy Christmas, indeed."
Justin
It was strange, dealing with Jack "The Fletcher" Finch-Fletchley. Justin was a wizard in training with a Familiar that could kill a grown wizard. Jack was just a muggle. A dangerous muggle you didn't want to have as your enemy, certainly, but a muggle nonetheless.
It was even stranger when you considered he was Justin's father.
"Happy Christmas," Jack the Fletcher said, sliding a small, black box across his desk towards Justin.
Jack wasn't a big man. Lanky, perhaps, though you couldn't tell that from how he was draped over his favorite chair. They were in Jack's office in Finch-Fletchley manor. Justin rarely set foot in there, but Sara had just called in her first favor, and it was something Justin needed Jack's help with.
"Thanks," Justin said simply as he reached for the offered box, but stopped when Jack placed his hand on it. He gave his father a questioning look.
"You're sure there's no way to stop her from just barging in here?" Jack asked. He'd been a little cross at hearing Sara had just Apparated into their courtyard during summer.
"Nothing feasible," Justin answered. "The Anti-Apparition charm is a state secret. I could in theory find someone who'd be willing to part with it for an exorbitant sum."
"But even with that, she'd just bust in here, anyway," Jack said, finishing Justin's thought. "Suppose that's not worth the price."
He released his hold on the box.
Justin nodded in agreement. "Maybe someday. I got studying to do until then."
Justin waited until he was back in his room before opening the box. He hadn't been home in months, and yet Mercy had kept his room just the way he liked it: Clean, green-painted walls, with a single painting of a landscape taking up the wall opposite his four-poster bed.
He unshrunk his Trunk, opened it to the hidden compartment, and carefully opened the black box to make sure he'd gotten what he'd needed for Sara's request.
Inside was a three-inch metal scope with a leather strap. He took it out, careful not to ruin the foam inside the box, and brought it up to his right eye. The scope worked as intended, letting him see outside his window towards the nearest street, more than a hundred yards away.
It felt a little awkward, but he supposed it was the only choice when you couldn't exactly put a scope on your wand like you would on a sniper rifle.
He tucked the scope back into its box, then placed the box inside his trunk, shrunk it, and went back out to celebrate the rest of Christmas with his family.
He'd even brought gifts, safely stored in his trunk and away from prying muggle authorities. Nothing magical, of course, though some would argue certain exotic plants were their own brand of magic.
Notes:
See you next week for hopefully the last five (or so) chapters of Great Horror.
Chapter 23: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, but as the Heritor of Slytherin
Notes:
Hello, dear friends and readers. I apologize for how long this has taken. It's been a frustrating two months. Actually, it's been a frustrating year.
Please see endnotes for a short update concerning the future of this fic series.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
February brought with it the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, the outcome of which would tell if Gryffindor still had a shot at the Quidditch Cup after Ginny had stolen the Snitch from Willow.
Harry anticipated it for an entirely different reason: Almost every student in Hogwarts had gone out to see the game, leaving the castle nearly empty.
He, Daphne, and Theo had other plans. Harry waited by the stairwell of Gryffindor Tower, wearing the same squid-masked Halloween costume he'd used to interrogate Malfoy during the previous year. He couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive. Sirius Black was a grown, trained wizard, who'd killed a few dark wizards in his prime. He might have been weakened by his stay in Azkaban, but Harry doubted he could take him in a fair duel.
Fortunately, the words 'fair' and 'duel' only ever applied when he was practicing with his friends. Usually. Not always.
He'd brought backup, of course: The Prydwen, Clarent, and a small army of Basmu statues waiting for him to undo their stone forms. He'd figured out how to block the Killing Curse with a living shield of birds, too. He'd be fine. Probably.
It felt a little weird, he realized, pretending to be a mysterious dark figure claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin when he actually was the Heritor of Slytherin, but he needed the throwaway persona in case things went south.
Daphne and Theo were on the first floor in a small alcove between the Tower and the rest of the Castle. Black clearly wanted something or someone inside the Gryffindor Dormitory, and after inspecting the Marauder's Map, Harry had a feeling it wasn't his sister. He had his hunches, but he wanted to know for sure what it was.
Harry, he's here, Nyx's voice spoke to him. She was with Daphne and Theo so they had a way to communicate via long distance. Harry and Nyx would speak telepathically, then Nyx could converse with Daphne in Parseltongue to relay messages back and forth.
It would've been better if Jack was a bit more grown and properly Daphne's Familiar because then they could use the two Familiars to talk to each other over great distances, but alas, Jack still needed to do some growing.
He nodded despite knowing she couldn't see him and borrowed her vision for a moment to look over the Marauder's Map.
A pair of footprints called 'Sirius Black' had indeed shown up on the map, arriving from one of the secret passages that led outside Hogwarts.
As expected, he was headed towards Gryffindor Tower.
Alright, Harry communicated. It's showtime.
To avoid having Theo and Daphne look too suspicious they'd come up with the cover that the two should pretend to be having intimate alone time in the alcove when Sirius passed. Harry was unsurprised to find he didn't like the idea, but it was a pretty easy cover to sell: two Slytherins having a little fun near their rivals' common room.
Just ask her out already, Nyx communicated.
I really hate you can see inside my mind sometimes, Harry responded.
He's walked past us, Nyx said.
Harry borrowed her vision again and saw Black had almost gotten to the stairwell on the map. As expected, Gryffindor Tower was empty for the Quidditch Match, so he could pull out most of the stops.
Harry renewed the Notice-Me-Not Charm on himself, activated his two trunks, undid the hardening charm on his flying snake hybrids, and waited for the escapee from Azkaban to show himself.
Now! Nyx communicated.
"In the name of Salazar, trap this-" Harry stopped midsentence.
What he couldn't have prepared himself for, was that instead of a wizard, what came up the stairs was a shaggy, black dog that looked oddly familiar.
"Immobulus," he muttered, and a wave of paralyzing energy erupted out of his wand, stopping the dog in place.
You're sure this is him? Harry asked.
If you trust the map. Why?
He's a dog, Harry answered.
"Lord Black, I take it?" Harry asked. He didn't bother masking his voice beyond lowering it a bit. Unlike Draco, Black wouldn't have anything to use as a reference.
The black dog stared at him with concerned eyes and whimpered.
"You're an Animagus?" Harry drawled. "I see. Your records didn't mention anything about that."
Ask Daphne if an Animagus can keep their wand, Harry communicated.
"Well, this is a bit more complicated than I expected," Harry continued. "No doubt you've as many questions for me as I, you."
She says the good ones can, Nyx answered. She's definitely seen McGonagall transform with her wand.
Drat. So there was no guarantee Sirius Black wasn't armed. Thanks, he sent back. Time to reveal his tricks, then. He mentally willed the Prydwen to ready a shot of broken glass coated in a paralyzing agent Neville had accidentally brewed.
He then commanded the Key to float behind Sirius and transform into a single, sharp spike. The dog's eyes tried to follow, but since it couldn't turn its head, it could only guess what was happening.
"But this is no way to converse, is it, Lord Black?" Harry spoke. "So, a deal: Turn back into your human form, answer my questions, and I will answer yours. If our goals happen to intersect, I might even cooperate with you."
If Black pulled anything, he'd be bleeding out on the floor faster than he could say 'Avada Kedavra,' and without the ability to Disapparate from Hogwarts, that would be the end of House Black.
But the dog didn't change.
Harry frowned behind the mask. "Look, I can torture little Slytherin boys but I'd really rather not hurt a dog. So be nice and change back before I make you."
The dog didn't respond, besides seeming to have a defiant grin on its face. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Reparifrage," he incanted, but the general-purpose Untransfiguration spell had no effect on the dog.
"Revelio!" Harry spoke, but again, the spell had no effect on an Animagus. Harry began to wonder if a specific counter-spell was required.
Again, the dog seemed amused by his efforts.
"Well, in that case, we can do this," Harry said, frustration creeping into his voice. He willed Clarent, his new trunk, to roll slowly towards the hound, its jaw-like orifice rapidly opening and closing as it approached. Instead of biting into the dog, however, the trunk veered around, placing the dog's tail between its jaws.
"So," Harry said. "On the count of three, those jaws are going to snap shut, and if you still have a tail by then, well, you won't."
"One."
No sign of movement from the dog.
"Two."
Harry took a deep, slow breath for the last one, to give the dog one last chance.
"Three!"
There was a whirl of movement in front of him as the dog rapidly shifted its shape back into a man.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry incanted, and nearly cut himself as a knife flew out of Sirius Black's hands and into Harry's.
He'd managed to move his hand out of the way just in time for the sharp object to miss and clatter to the floor.
The transformation, however, had clearly broken the Immobulus as Sirius Black lunged towards Harry like his life depended on it, but Harry quickly willed Clarent to clamp down on Sirius' coat, and it ruined his balance enough for Black to fall to the floor.
Harry re-applied the Immobulus with Black still on the floor as his Basmu surrounded him, and finally, the Heritor of Slytherin breathed a sigh of relief.
"For Merlin's sake, couldn't you have just used the counter-spell instead of trying to chop my tail off?" Black asked. His head was looking up from the floor at a rather painful angle.
"Was more fun this way," Harry lied. He simply hadn't known the counter-spell.
"Oh, so that line about not torturing dogs was a lie, huh?" Black complained.
"Not as big a lie as you being a servant of the Dark Lord," Harry said.
Black froze. "What? You know? How-"
"Let's just say you'd be more popular in Slytherin if you were," Harry answered.
"So, you're a Slytherin, then?" Black asked. "Merlin, but you look ridiculous."
"I am, Lord Black," Harry said, ignoring the part about looking ridiculous. It was a costume, after all. "But what I don't know is why you're here in Hogwarts. Surely, you're not here for the Potters?"
"No," Black answered. "You're not strong enough to be a teacher. A student?"
"I'm the bloody janitor," Harry answered. "Are you looking for Peter Pettigrew?"
Black's eyes darkened. "You know where he is?"
"No," Harry admitted. "I was able to track him to Gryffindor Tower before but he's been gone for a while."
That wasn't exactly true, of course. Fred and George had seen Peter Pettigrew's name in Gryffindor Tower. By the time they'd given it to Harry, he'd disappeared.
"Here to finish the job, then?" Harry asked.
"You got that right, buddy," Black said. "That rat bastard's gonna get what he deserves. But why are you tracking him?"
"His name just came up," Harry said, leaving it vague, but that had been more than enough, it seemed, because Black's eyes lit up in realization.
"You have the Map, don't you?" he asked.
"The Map?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. A difficult thing to do when projecting a menacing facade, admittedly.
"Don't play dumb with me," Sirius barked. "The Marauder's Map!"
"You know of it?"
"Know of it?" Sirius laughed. "We made it!"
"You're one of the four Marauders?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, I am. I'm Padfoot! The rat bastard I'm hunting is Wormtail, better known as Peter Pettigrew."
"Wait. You keep calling him that," Harry said.
"Because it's what he is!"
A row of dots Harry hadn't paid attention to before suddenly connected in his mind.
"But the only rat in Gryffindor Tower is, blast, I can't remember his name! The one Weasley has!"
"Exactly! That's why I've been trying to get into Gryffindor!"
Harry took a second to process this information. It all made sense. "Lord Black," he began, "If you didn't work for the Dark Lord, then I assume Peter Pettigrew did?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so sure I didn't? You'd've been a baby at the time."
"I'm in Slytherin," Harry reminded him. "Certain members of my House are privy to details of the war."
"You one of Malfoy's?"
"Oh, heavens, no," Harry answered, letting himself sound as offended as he felt. "Remember what I said about torturing Slytherin boys?"
"You didn't," Black said, though he grinned as he said it. "Really? Malfoy's boy?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny anything," Harry said. "So, since you know I'm using the Map, and you made it, where do you think Pettigrew might've run off to?"
"Map doesn't show the whole school," Sirius explained, though Harry knew that already. "Parts of it are Unplottable. Could be one of those. Or maybe he ran off. Wait, how do I know you're not just protecting him from me?"
"You're alive, aren't you?" Harry suggested.
"Until I've told you everything you want to know, maybe," Black said. "What's your angle here?"
"I just wanted to know why you've disrupted my school year," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Last year it was Voldemort, and the year before that. I swear, it's all that ever happens here."
"I don't buy it," Sirius said. "Who are you, really?"
"You really are a Gryffindor," Harry drawled. "How anyone ever mistook you for one of the Dark Lord's servants I'll never know."
"Easier than thinking little Peter was one," Black barked. "So what now, Mister-"
"So, Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, yes?" Harry asked, to make sure.
"Yeah, but it was my idea," Black said, sounding pained.
Harry's next word dripped with venom. "What?"
Black sighed, looking lost. "I was supposed to be James and Lily's Secret Keeper, keeping their hiding place during the war hidden, but I thought it was too obvious. I knew they'd hunt me down and do everything they could to pry it from me. So, I asked Peter to do it, instead. Peter couldn't fight, so no one would expect him to be guarding the secret."
Harry considered Black. Why did he suddenly seem chatty? A man trying to confess his sins, perhaps? He'd been holding onto this for over a decade, after all.
"Peter handed them over willingly, then?" Harry asked. His expression beneath the mask darkened. It seemed he'd found yet another person responsible for his childhood.
"He did, and he wouldn't have been able to do it if I hadn't tried to be clever," Sirius said.
"Finite Incantatem," Harry incanted, and the energy holding Black in place dissipated.
Black gathered himself and got back up. "Thanks, finally. I guess you're done asking questions now?"
"Got one more," Harry said. "How do you plan on finding him now?"
"I've got a friend in the Tower. He'll tell me if he sees any sign," Black said. "Though I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me back the Map?"
"Not on your life, Lord Black," Harry answered, smirking then realizing Sirius couldn't see his face. "It's far too useful while I'm still a student here. But if I find him, I'll try to let you know."
"And you're not just going to kill him and sweep the truth under the rug?" Black asked.
Harry considered for a moment, then shrugged. "I have no reason to do that."
"Oh?"
"After all," Harry said, slowly undoing the clasps on his mask. "If I'm not mistaken, proving you're innocent means I can go to Hogsmeade."
Sirius nearly fell backward onto the stairs, but luckily managed to regain his balance in time.
"Harry?" Black asked. "It can't be. You're in your Third Year! How the hell are you doing all of this?" He gestured to the small army of magical devices and winged snakes Harry had at his beck and call.
"I might be ahead of my lessons a little bit," Harry answered. "But it's me, yes, the Boy Who Supposedly Died."
"Does your sister know you're traipsing around in a bloody costume interrogating me?"
Harry had to keep himself from wincing.
"No, she's playing Quidditch, none the wiser," Harry answered. "I had a feeling you'd try today since the school would be empty, so I waited."
"Guess I'm getting sloppy if a thirteen-year-old can catch me," Black said, barking laughter. "Bloody hell. I heard you were smart, but this is-"
"Not so loud," Harry said. "We're just out of earshot of the portraits. Silencing Charms can only do so much."
"Sorry," Sirius said, lower, "So, we're catching that rat bastard, then, are we?"
"Won't be easy," Harry said. "He's not on the Map, so he could be long gone for all we know."
"He wouldn't have gone far," Sirius said. "I doubt he's armed, and the Forest is just as dangerous to him as I am, though I suppose it's not too insane for him to stay there."
The Forest. Right. He could ask Aragog to help flush Pettigrew out in case he was hiding in there.
"I can handle that part," Harry said. "Do you think Professor Lupin would help us?"
Sirius paled. "I dunno. Haven't spoken since they branded me a traitor."
"He spoke rather fondly of you," Harry said. "And if we tell him Pettigrew's alive, well," he trailed off.
"You'd need proof," Sirius said. "Remus isn't just going to take your word- Wait. You said you believed me because there are certain Slytherins who know I wasn't a friend of the Dark Lord's?"
"I don't think the Dark Lord had friends," Harry drawled.
"He didn't," Sirius said. "But you're dodging my question. Who are these friends of yours?"
"Just the kids of some families who were on the wrong side of the war," Harry answered.
"Harry, you shouldn't-"
"I can pick my own friends," Harry said flatly. He'd backed down when Hagrid had said the same thing in his first year, but no more.
"Did they put you up to this?" Sirius asked.
"No, this was my plan," Harry answered, letting an edge creep into his voice.
"That's what they want you to think," Sirius said. "I lost my brother to them. Slytherins are devious."
"I know. I'm one of them!" He felt tempted to show off Salazar's power just to shut Black up, but Harry wasn't sure what to do with his escaped godfather just yet. "Better get used to it."
Harry, Nyx's voice called out to his mind.
Out of time? Harry asked.
Yeah, match is over. Everyone's coming back. It seems Gryffindor won.
Disappointing.
"Well, looks like we've got to cut this short," Harry said to Black. "The students will be back soon."
"So what happens now?" Black asked.
"You should leave and hide," Harry answered. "We'll find Pettigrew."
"So that's it? You're just cutting me out of my revenge?" Black barked.
"Who's your agent in Gryffindor Tower?" Harry asked.
"A cat."
"Brown, kinda big?" Harry asked. "Face only his owner could love?"
Black furrowed his brow. "Kind of harsh, but how did you-"
"Tell Crookshanks if you've got pertinent information," Harry said. "One of my friends has a cat familiar. She can get the info to me."
"And what about you?" Sirius asked. "How are you gonna reach out to me?"
"Same way backwards. Ashes talks to Crookshanks. Crookshanks talks to you. You won't get it in real time, obviously, but I doubt I can just owl you."
"Got that right," Sirius said. "Well, I guess it'll have to do. See you around, Harry."
"See you," Harry said.
"Oh," Black suddenly said just as he was about to turn away. "Did you and Willow get my Christmas presents?"
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "The Firebolts?"
Black's lips spread into a manic grin.
"How did you-" Harry began, then shook his head. "Tell me when your name is cleared."
"You taken it out for a spin yet?" Black asked.
"We sent them to Flitwick and McGonagall to check for curses," Harry confessed. "Sorry. Kinda dangerous to just take a potential assassination weapon 'out for a spin.'"
"Oh," Black said, sounding disappointed. "Well, it was from me, so you can ask them to give 'em back."
Harry smiled politely. "Thank you, Lord Black. They're among the best gifts we've ever gotten."
Black brightened a bit. "Just call me Sirius. Enough with that Lord Black nonsense. I'm technically not, being a convict and all. Uh, but yeah, I had to make up for a decade of missed birthday presents."
"It more than makes up for it," Harry said.
He watched Black shift back into a dog and slink away before making his own way out of Gryffindor Tower. He turned his Basmu back to stone, reshrunk his two trunks, and asked the Castle to give him a path back to the Chamber.
He did not ask Flitwick to give the broom back early. He didn't tell Willow, either. That could wait until he was sure Black could be trusted.
Notes:
So, I have a day job now. I'm not exactly over the moon about it because it really cuts into my writing time but certain parties had to be appeased because writing isn't a real career path, apparently.
To be blunt, I have about a third of the time I used to have for writing, and even less of the energy between work and mental health. I was planning to finish this fic, then hyperfocus on my novel to finish it, then get my editor working on that while I wrote the draft for Goblet, but with so little time left, I'm not sure I can finish my novel this year, let alone get started on Goblet. I am planning to finish this fic, at the very least, sometime in April.
It's a shame because I really wanted to write Goblet. So much stuff I had planned!
To summarize:
I'm not abandoning the series or orphaning it. I just don't have the amount of time or drive I used to. It sucks, but for now, I'm working on my original novel (which will probably be a web novel instead of an e-book), and Goblet is delayed indefinitely. Hopefully, the last quarter of the year if my plans don't go awry, but no promises for now.
Chapter 24: The Best Laid Plans
Notes:
I'm back! Sorry for the delays, everyone. Posting three chapters today and the final four tomorrow. I hope you like 'em.
Chapter Text
The best laid plans of mice and men often went awry. Harry knew this, and yet he couldn't have anticipated the problem he faced trying to apprehend Peter Pettigrew, clearing Sirius Black's name, and finally getting this whole ordeal sorted: Nothing was happening.
February turned to March, then April with no sign of Pettigrew. He'd even asked Aragog's brood to patrol the Forbidden Forest, not to find Pettigrew (he doubted the spiders could tell a transformed mouse apart from a real one) but to make him think the forest too dangerous to hide in and smoke him out.
It was as if Pettigrew had vanished like he had thirteen years ago, thanks in no small part to Harry's very Gryffindor godfather and his very obvious attempt at coming after the traitor.
"Where the hell is he?" Harry asked on the last day of April while he and his friends were in the Chamber's library.
The plan had been simple: Nyx watched the Marauder's Map at all times since she required no sleep. She spent their classes watching it from inside his Trunk, and at night she watched it from Daphne's private chamber so she could rouse Harry's friends immediately if Pettigrew showed up. They were supposed to bag him, bring him to Dumbledore, and set the record straight.
In all those months, Pettigrew made not a single appearance. Harry was still feeling annoyed with it all when the Slytherin versus Gryffindor rematch arrived.
"They need fifty points up to win," Flint said. "Catch the Snitch before then, or let the Gryffindor Potter have it, and we win the Cup."
"We won't let them get that fifty," Harry said with confidence.
"And I'll get the Snitch long before she does," Malfoy added.
"No, you won't," Flint answered. "Weasley is riding against Potter."
"What? But she's substitute Seeker! I'm not injured!" Draco protested. He'd gone back to playing after the first match.
"Her record against Potter is better," Flint said bluntly. "Besides, you do stupid shit when it comes to Potter. Can't trust you to keep focused."
"What? How dare-"
"That little stunt you and your goons pulled in the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match with the hoods and cloaks hasn't been forgotten, Malfoy," Flint said in a serious tone. "You're benched. Weasley's in, and if your father does anything, you're going to get hexed into a dumpster."
Malfoy backed down. Harry had heard about that afterwards. Apparently, Draco and his goons had dressed up as Dementors in an attempt to mess with Willow. Harry had been tempted to punish him, but Flint seemed to be doing it already.
"Flint," Harry began. "My sister's going to be on a Firebolt."
"I know," he said. McGonagall had returned the broom to her just in time for the final.
"Maybe Ginny should have my broom for this one," Harry suggested. Ginny hadn't had much practice on it (nor had he or Willow, really) but it would make much more sense on a Seeker than on him.
"You sure, Harry?" Ginny asked.
"Just don't break it," Harry answered with a grin. "And get that Snitch."
"I'll do my best," she said.
Justin
He'd never really been into sports. He exercised, certainly. Upper arm strength was a big deal when it came to archery, and it didn't hurt to know a few martial arts with the kind of pies his family had fingers in, but he didn't really enjoy being a spectator.
Quidditch was bearable, he supposed. At least with Quidditch, he knew people who were on the teams and could cheer them on, but Justin wasn't watching Quidditch that afternoon. The black and white ball flew over the neat lawn, only to be deftly blocked by the opposing goalkeeper.
"Why are we here?" he asked aloud.
"You don't like football?" Sara asked.
"Not particularly."
"Me neither," Sara answered. "The games back home were a tad more entertaining."
"Oh? What was the favorite game in your homeland?" Justin asked, genuinely curious.
"We'd use ancient stone tablets to summon monsters and attack each other," Sara answered evenly. "Loser was banished to the shadow realm for eternity."
Justin laughed. "Sounds way more interesting than Quidditch. Did you play?"
"Heavens, no. You'd need to offer something far more valuable than entertainment for me to bet my soul," she answered, smirking.
"So, why are we here?" Justin repeated. He'd let her dodge the question long enough.
"Because the Ministry is even less interested in football than we are," she answered. "Do you know the Davis family?"
"There are a lot of Davises in the world," Justin pointed out.
"The one that has a half-vampire in Hogwarts," Sara clarified.
"I only know Tracey. Why?"
"Her father's working for the Daily Prophet," Sara explained.
Justin stiffened a little. "Is he looking into you-know-what?"
Sara nodded, almost imperceptibly. "He's getting too close."
"He's not scared of you?" Justin asked. He didn't have to ask if he knew about her involvement in pinning Lord Newbourne's death on Black. Sara wouldn't have brought it up if he didn't.
"He fancies himself a fearless journalist," Sara offered. "It wouldn't be the first time he's refused to see reason."
"He wouldn't bat an eye at having Tracey threatened, if that's what you're asking," Justin said. "I don't know why, but I gather they don't get along."
He didn't like sharing what little he knew about Tracey, but he didn't want Sara to use her as a hostage or something.
"How badly would you say they don't get along?" Sara asked.
Justin hesitated. It was alright, he supposed. He was doing this to protect her. "I think she hates him, actually, though I couldn't tell you why."
Sara nodded. "He is a bit of a sleaze. I can certainly understand hating him."
"So, what are you going to do about him?" Justin asked.
"Oh, you leave that to me," Sara said. "You might be an Occlumens, but we should still keep you as far away from the Wizengamot as possible."
"I see," Justin said, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you, Sara."
"Of course," she added. "What are friends for?"
Harry
"I was so close!" Ginny yelled as they all returned to the Slytherin locker room. Normally, someone would have told her she was acting in a way unbecoming of a Slytherin, but it was just their team in the locker, and no one could really blame the fiery redhead for being upset.
"Chin up, Weasley," Flint said. "At least you forced Potter to end the game before they hit fifty points."
Flint was right, though they were still only ahead by twenty. It was nearly as close as it could have gotten.
"It was my bad for coming up with this last minute," Harry offered.
"No, it was a good call," Flint argued. "If Weasley had flown on a 2001, she wouldn't have stood a chance. But honestly, Potter, your sister's a demon on that broom. You sure you can't try out for Seeker next year?"
"Afraid not. I can't match her in that area," Harry answered. "She's been interested in flying long before I knew it was possible."
Besides, if Harry had his way, he'd be dropping out of Quidditch next year. He'd spent more afternoons than he cared to on practice. It was time better used preparing for Voldemort's next move.
"I do think we should let Ginny keep training with my Firebolt," Harry said. "Willow will be practicing on hers, so we wouldn't want to fall behind."
"Blimey, Harry," Ginny said, her frustration at the match momentarily forgotten. "Are you sure?"
Harry shrugged. "I like winning more than I like that broom, and a Firebolt would mess up my and Tracey's coordination."
"He's not wrong," Tracey added.
"I promise I'll take care of it," Ginny said.
Harry nodded, not doubting a word. She was part of his circle, after all. He trusted her with a lot more than just his broom.
"No flirting in the locker room," Flint jabbed playfully.
Harry considered. He supposed to someone who didn't know his study group's dynamics, that might seem like the case. He decided clarifying the matter would be best.
"What? Me and Ginny?" Harry asked. "Not gonna happen."
"Potter thinks he's too good for you. You gonna take that lying down, Weasley?" Bole teased.
Ginny laughed. "That's not what he said," Ginny said simply. "I'm not Harrys type. He prefers someone who can put him in his place."
Harry shot her a confused look. "I do not!" Daphne just happened to like being in control, he added mentally.
Despite their mixed feelings towards the match, they all laughed. It might not have been a complete victory, but a win was a win.
Chapter 25: Rat, Dog, and Trap
Chapter Text
Harry, wake up! Nyx's voice called into his mind.
Harry jolted awake, half expecting to be in a dream with the Observer, but he was still in the dorm he shared with Theo and Blaise.
Drowsy from just waking, he looked around the room for Nyx, only to find she wasn't there. Panic set in for a second before he remembered their arrangement: Nyx was staying in Daphne's room so she could wake both Harry and Daphne if something was up, which then gave them the option to wake the others.
What is it? Harry asked.
I think Sirius Black is attacking your sister, Nyx replied.
On our way, Harry answered, mulling the statement over as he roused Theo and Blaise.
What was going on?
Theo, Daphne, Tracey, Blaise, and surprisingly, Pansy, all gathered to answer his call. They'd considered getting Ginny, too, but didn't want to raise questions about why they were taking a second year out of bed at night. They convened quickly outside the Common Room, where Nyx placed a Glamour on them, followed by individual Notice-Me-Not charms. Harry nearly conjured snakes to scout ahead out of habit, but the Marauder's Map meant that was no longer necessary.
They headed towards the Whomping Willow, Nyx communicated. Harry repeated it to his friends, who, while upset at being awoken, were all raring to go, especially Tracey.
Navigating the Castle after dark was a piece of cake, but they had little time to waste, so Harry invoked his power as Heritor and asked the Castle to give them a straight path to the school grounds.
Harry, Nyx said. Professor Lupin just left his office.
Harry frowned. He didn't need complications. He'd transformed the Key into a flat silver disc Nyx could ride on while keeping her eyes on the map. She wouldn't have been able to keep pace with them if she had to carry it by her lonesome.
Anything else? he asked.
Snape's also left his room, Nyx said after a moment. He seems to be on his way to Lupin's room? But they'll miss each other at the speed they're going.
Harry shared the info with the group in real time. The direct path he'd created through the hallways had gotten them to the entrance hall. Apparently, being Heritor didn't extend to making an exit out of the Castle.
Prefects up ahead, Nyx warned, though between her Glamour and their combined spells, it should've been nigh impossible for the Prefects to notice them.
Regardless, the group took care not to make large movements that might register on someone's peripheral vision despite all their spellwork.
They finally reached open air and Harry consulted Nyx one last time about Willow, Black, Lupin, and Snape's positions.
"My sister's group and Black are gone?" Harry clarified.
Gone, Nyx repeated. It looked like they were going into the Whomping Willow. Yeah, I know how weird that sounds.
Harry didn't feel like acknowledging the quip.
Do an aerial sweep of the tree and tell me if you see any passages or whatever, Harry instructed. I'll keep an eye on the map for now.
Nyx flew off and didn't return, instead instructing Harry and the rest to come to her. There's a tunnel at the tree's roots.
Harry explained the situation to his friends.
"How'd they get past the tree?" Theo asked.
"No idea," Harry answered. "But we don't have time to figure it out. We're using force."
"Maybe the tree thought your sister was a relative and let her pass?" Daphne joked.
"Points for effort," Harry replied. "Right. Let's see how much magic the Whomping Willow can take."
Their group unleashed a barrage of movement-hampering spells from Immobulus to Stupefy, filling the air with multicolored jets of light.
The tree, normally peaceful until something disturbed it, thrashed against the assault, but they were too far out of its reach.
About a minute later, the Whomping Willow stood motionless like any other tree, bombarded as it had been by some of the best students in Slytherin (and Blaise.)
"Blaise," Harry spoke. "Go get Professor Snape and tell him where we are. Tell him Tracey's cat was out on a stroll and noticed a student being attacked by what looked like a large dog."
"Got it," Blaise said. He'd been about to dash off when Harry held him with a withering gaze that said 'You might want to check where he is first.' Blaise winced under his glare and did just that.
After getting Snape's location and direction from Nyx and the Marauder's Map, Blaise dashed off to find their head of house.
Harry stowed the Map in his trunk, unshrunk Clarent and Prydwen, then sent conjured snakes to scout ahead with Nyx. The 'Key' stood ready next to his head, taking the shape of a silver orb. The Map didn't cover the passage, so they couldn't be too careful.
They crept though a narrow tunnel which took them in the direction of Hogsmeade, wands out and eyes peeled for the first sign of danger.
Harry had a feeling he knew exactly what happened, but he couldn't be sure until he saw it for himself. Fixing the fallout from this was going to be hell.
He stopped short of the tunnel's end where it seemed to rise up, opting to send Nyx ahead and borrowing her vision.
Hermione, Neville, Willow, Susan, and Ronald had Sirius at wandpoint. Well, Ronald wasn't pointing his wand, really. He had his hands clasped around a disgusting-looking rat Harry presumed was Peter Pettigrew. He didn't know what Sirius had been thinking, but it was time to bail him out.
He placed his wand in a position where he could parry any kneejerk spells sent his way and crept into what looked like an abandoned wooden shack. After scanning the room one last time, he ordered Nyx to drop the Glamour.
"Expelliarmus!" a voice quickly shouted as soon as Harry appeared, sending red light at him, but he'd been prepared, and slashed the spell apart with his wand.
"Calm down, Neville, it's me," Harry spoke quickly before anyone else joined in.
"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry!" Neville said.
"Harry? What're you doing here?" Willow asked, though she kept her eyes and wand trained on Black, who was looking rather unconcerned up against the wall.
"My bad," Tracey said, stepping up next to Harry. "Ashes was out on an evening stroll and he told me Weasley got attacked by a black dog and you all went after him."
Willow visibly sighed with relief.
"But I don't see a black dog," Harry remarked casually. "Merlin!" Harry exclaimed as he pretended to see Black for the first time. "Is that-"
"Sirius Black," Willow said, seeming to buy Harry's act. "He was trying to attack Ron to get to me."
Harry fixed Black with a gaze that would've communicated 'Play along' to any of his friends, though he didn't know if Black would get it. "Is that true?"
"I'm not here for either of you," Black answered. "I'm here for him." Black nudged his head in Weasley's direction.
"Why?" Harry asked before Willow could. "What's Weasley done to you?"
"Him?" Black scoffed. "Not him. I'm talking about the rat!"
Harry pretended to notice the rat in Ronald's hands for the first time. "What about it?"
"Gimme a wand and I'll show you," Black said.
"As if I'm really letting a grown wizard have a wand," Harry sneered. "If I did that, you could probably take us all on by your lonesome."
"Fine," Black said. "Can you force an Animagus into human form, then?"
"As a matter of fact, I can," Harry said, grinning. It might've been the first expression he'd had since entering the shack that wasn't an act. "Donald, bring it to me."
"No!" Ronald shrieked, pulling the rat away. "You can't take him."
Harry gave his sister a pleading look. He didn't want this to get uglier than it already was. She nodded. "Show Scabbers to him, Ron. Harry won't hurt him."
"F-fine," Ronald conceded, bringing the rat forward. It thrashed about in Weasley's hands, as one would expect of a wild animal, really.
Harry performed the spell like he'd read in an advanced Transfiguration book.
He'd never tried the counterspell before, lacking a test subject and all, but the magic happened easily enough, wrapping around the rodent in a flash of white light. It squirmed, freeing itself from Ronald's grasp with a violent jerk, and Harry watched with fascination as the little rodent's form twisted, slowly taking the shape of an ugly-looking man missing patches of hair.
A quick glance told Harry he was missing a finger. Rather amusingly, this man still seemed to have the mannerisms of his previous form, sniffing the air and wringing his hands like a scared rodent.
"This is Peter Pettigrew," Black explained. "The man who betrayed Lily and James Potter."
"W-what?" Willow asked.
"Explain yourself, Black," Harry said, pretending he hadn't heard this all before.
Black seemed momentarily taken aback by Harry playing dumb, but explained the same story he'd already told Harry to Willow and the rest.
When he was done, everyone in the room looked at Pettigrew with disgust, ranging from obvious to thinly-veiled.
Harry didn't immediately speak. Clarent rolled forward, jaws opening with a mechanical whirr. They stopped just short of touching the cowering man.
"Do you deny any of it?" Harry asked, his voice calm but cold.
"I had no choice!" Pettigrew shrieked. "The Dark Lord made me do it!"
"Oh, he made you do it, did he?" Black barked. "Even though no one knew you were Secret Keeper? What did he offer you, Peter?"
"Sirius, my friend, you know what he can do!" Pettigrew pleaded. "You would've done the same in my shoes."
"No, I wouldn't, you little rat!" Sirius yelled. "I would've died for Lily and James, and you know it!"
Pettigrew rapidly glanced around the room as if looking for an escape. He looked like he was about to tell Harry something, then, seeming to come to a sudden decision, pivoted towards Willow instead.
Amazing. Even the rat considered Willow more important than guy who was smart enough to undo his transformation. Simply amazing.
"Willow! Noble Willow Potter, surely you won't allow him to kill me!" he pleaded.
Harry snapped his fingers (for show), and willed the Prydwen behind him to use as a seat. Pettigrew's groveling was pathetic, though it did amuse him.
Willow backed away from him calmly, leveling a murderous glare Harry had never seen before at Pettigrew.
When he saw she wasn't going to give in, Pettigrew shifted to Hermione. "Sweet girl, clever girl, you won't let him kill me, will you?"
Hermione looked conflicted at first, but after seeing Willow's pained expression, she simply looked away.
"Ron!" Pettigrew pleaded, going down some imaginary list only he could see. "Have I not been a good pet? A faithful pet? Don't let him kill me!"
"Good grief," Harry deadpanned from his improvised seat. "You really begged him instead of me?"
"Harry!" Pettigrew said, quickly getting on his knees. "Such a clever boy. Surely, you can see it's not right for him to kill me?"
Harry sneered. "You should know me better than that, Pettigrew. You've likely spied on me enough."
"But I do! You're too smart to let this happen."
Harry rolled his eyes before casually pointing his wand at Pettigrew. "Stupefy. Immobulus. Petrificus Totalus."
"Harry!" Hermione shouted in protest, though no one else in the room did.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Sirius said with some disbelief. "Could've let me do it."
"Unfortunately, he's right," Harry drawled. "We need him alive."
"What do you mean?" Willow asked. Her voice had gone even again, though it still held a hard edge.
Harry quirked an eyebrow at that. Had she been intending to kill him, or let Sirius do it, at least?
"Come now, sister," Harry answered. "Amelia is literally the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. We're not fit to pass judgment on him ourselves. It looks like they misjudged Lord Black all those years ago."
"If you really are innocent, why'd you say you killed our parents?" Willow asked.
Harry quirked an eyebrow. It seems he'd missed part of the conversation.
"I might as well have," Black answered somberly. "It was my idea to make Pettigrew Secret Keeper, remember? If I hadn't done that-" he trailed off.
"Doesn't make you a murderer," Harry said.
"I am a murderer, though," Black answered. "I just killed people on the other side."
He really wished Black hadn't said that to Willow.
To Harry's surprise, Willow flinched briefly, but otherwise didn't react poorly. "It was a war," she answered. "People died on both sides."
Suddenly, Harry remembered what she'd told him about Quirrell- how she'd incinerated him on reflex even though the Aurors had already disabled him.
Harry hadn't actually killed a person yet. Riddle hardly counted, since he wasn't really alive. It was strange to think about: Here he was, thinking Willow would resent Black for his actions, forgetting she'd killed before, too.
"Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to be sure our captive doesn't escape," Harry said.
A minute later, Pettigrew was stunned, paralyzed, bound and gagged with bandages hardened to stone, then locked inside the Prydwen like a mummy in a sarcophagus.
He'd offer to lend the Aurors the trunk to help get Pettigrew securely to Azkaban, if need be. Anything to prevent an escape.
"Isn't that a bit much?" Hermione asked, clearly uncomfortable with how he was treating Pettigrew despite everything she'd learned.
"He can turn into a rat, Hermione," Harry answered simply. "What if he escapes on the way to the Castle?"
She bit her lip, seeming displeased, but accepted his decision.
As they were about to step out of the shack and back into the tunnel, however, a new shape emerged from it, clad in dark robes and an air of cold danger.
"Ah, Professor, you got my message," Harry said.
Snape took one look at them, saw Sirius Black, and immediately, said, "Expelliarmus!"
The red sparks shot into Black and knocked him against the wall, though, being unarmed, nothing of his flew into Snape's expectant hand.
"He's not armed, Professor," Harry said with a look that said 'I'm not that foolish.'
"And yet you're stupid enough to come after him on your own," Snape drawled, seeming to interpret the look Harry gave him with ease. "Don't you know how many people he's killed?"
"Not as many as you'd think," Harry said. "You see, you and the rest of the world seem to lack critical information."
Snape narrowed his gaze at Harry. "What critical information?"
"May I have permission to open my Trunk?"
Snape nodded. Harry commanded the Prydwen to spit out the bound Pettigrew. Snape's eyes widened in realization.
"Of course," he said, as if instantly putting fifteen times fifteen divided by twenty-five together in his head. He cast one last loathful glance at Black before turning around. "Lock him back up, Potter. The Ministry will be quite interested in what Pettigrew has to say. And," Snape made a movement with his wand, wordlessly binding Sirius in ropes.
"Hey! What's the big idea, Snivelus?" Black demanded.
"Quiet. You are a wanted fugitive," Snape answered, not bothering to hide he took pleasure in messing with the Lord of House Black. "Pray I do not consider more stringent measures."
Black grumbled, but let Snape have his way.
Their strange convoy traveled back through the tunnel and across the grounds in silence. They were halfway back to the castle gates when Harry felt it: A familiar chill in the air, like that first day back on the train.
Harry glanced behind him, and found Black had shifted back into a dog, freeing himself from Snape's rope, which meant the Dementors couldn't have been tracking him. But if they weren't coming for him, then who were they-
"Expecto Patronum!" Snape incanted, creating a white, translucent deer-like creature to shield against what looked like over a hundred dementors.
Harry's friends who could cast the spell followed suit, though all they could produce were incorporeal Patronuses.
"Stay together!" Snape commanded. "We only need hold them back until the Headmaster notices!"
Harry nodded, then sent a brilliant display of red sparks into the air, as a sort of flare. He hoped it drew Dumbledore's attention, in case the mass of Dementors didn't.
Snape's corporeal Patronus bounded about, casting a gentle glow that repulsed the Dementors, though it seemed even someone as skilled as Snape had trouble holding back so many. Still, that he could hold back all the Dementors attacking his side of the formation spoke volumes - the incorporeal Patronuses covering their flanks had been layered together and couldn't do nearly as good a job. The Dementors there hovered within spitting distance of their party.
Harry hated that he couldn't risk using his Patronus. If the Dementors reacted like they had on the train, they would all get knocked out and eaten, so he could only stand idly as his friends and Professor Snape held the vile things back.
Three years of study and building up his power, and Harry had never felt so feeble.
He remembered his communication mirror with the aurors and opened it. "Auror Savage!" he called into the mirror, though there was no response.
He urged Willow to do the same with hers.
Together, they went down the list of Aurors he knew, but none of them were responding. Harry did not like this. Why were the Dementors waiting for them in such a large concentration? The mirrors being unresponsive were either awful luck or something else.
Suddenly, visible only because he'd happened to be looking in that direction, a flash of nearly-transparent white light shot out from across the lake, shooting straight into Severus Snape.
The curse hit home, and Snape fell limply to the ground, his Patronus fading with his consciousness.
The Dementors surged through their now-unguarded front, and the air turned very, very cold indeed.
Chapter 26: Breaking the Threshold
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A bright blaze sprang forth to cover the side Snape's doe had been protecting, banishing the creeping cold and replacing it with sweltering heat as a wall of fire formed to keep the Dementors out. Willow had stepped forward, facing the gap, a look of immense concentration on her face as she held the Dementors back with her flames.
"Good save!" Harry complimented his sister, though even as he said it, he saw what he saw during the Quidditch Match: The flames were no Patronus, and the Dementors' influence rapidly doused it despite Willow's efforts. Her incorporeal Patronus was already covering their left flank along with Tracey's.
"Everyone who can't cast a Patronus, cast Incendio!" Harry commanded, though he didn't cast the spell himself. His affinity for fire had never been good, and he had a more important thing to attempt.
"Rennervate!" he incanted, pointing his wand at Snape's collapsed form, but the Professor did not stir. Harry swore. He should have known it wouldn't be that simple. That hadn't been a stupefy that hit Snape.
The others did as he asked, adding their flames to the fire wall, but it did little. The Dementors would break through, no matter how much flame they produced. With Snape incapacitated and so many people present, they couldn't even really run.
Harry was fuming. Someone had sniped at Snape on purpose, knowing the Dementors would overwhelm them after he went down. He had no idea spells could even be shot at such a long range, but if he made it through this, he'd make whoever was responsible pay, and pay dearly.
"Daph, Theo, do either of these Portkeys work on Hogwarts grounds?" he asked.
"No!" they answered in unison. Of course not. If either could, they would've suggested that already.
What if they all hid in his trunk? No, that was stupid. No guarantee the dementors couldn't force their way through the protections.
The flames slowly whittled down, and soon the heat had died so completely they might as well not have been there. A dark hand reached through the fire, parting it like a bright, orange curtain.
"Willow!" Tracey yelled, pushing his sister out of the way just as the Dementor lunged forward. Seconds felt like hours as Tracey's body came within inches of the Dementor. She crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.
The Dementor ignored Tracey, looking straight at him, its gaping hole-like maw visible, and Harry realized they'd crossed the threshold of no return. It was cast, or have his soul taken. If he was going down anyway, he'd make as many of these blighters as he could suffer first.
"Expecto Patronum!" he incanted, and the bright, bullet-like shape of his Patronus flew straight into the Dementor's shapeless hole.
The Dementor couldn't even scream as the tadpole-like creature attacked it from within, causing it to stagger back in a frenzy. It fell into the lake with a loud splash, but Harry couldn't pay it any more heed. A second and third Dementor had crossed the dying flames, and he couldn't keep blasting them in the face forever. Memories of Privet Drive pushed against his Occlumency barrier, and his next Patronus came as an intangible mist.
He hadn't been careful enough. He'd let his guard down once he'd learned Black wasn't out to kill him and Willow. It hadn't even crossed his mind that there might be others who'd make an attempt on their lives while Black was taking the spotlight. Hogwarts had conditioned him to think there'd only be one sinister plot per year.
The Dementors crashed against his flimsy Patronus, depleting it almost as quickly as they'd done with the wall of flame. He simply couldn't hold them all alone.
Clarent and Prydwen stood at his side, nearly useless against Dementors. He doubted a couple of Bludgers could do anything here. Instead, he cast Engorgio on the Prydwen to serve as a makeshift wall against the Dementors.
It was then he noticed the lake.
The Dementors had noticed it too, as they'd ceased their advance, directing their attentions to the lake. The water's surface seemed to pulse with an eerie green light. It was a shade of color Harry recognized, though he never thought he'd see it outside his dreams.
A huge, green sphere rose out of the Lake without breaking the water's surface. It looked like a second, green moon floating far too close to the earth.
It spun in place slowly, revealing it wasn't a moon, but a familiar sight: A Keyhole-shaped iris at the center of a floating, green eye.
Harry heard no thoughts in his mind, no alien greeting as the giant eye stared at the army of Dementors completely unperturbed.
The Dementors shrank away from the great orb, and it was then Harry realized what he was looking at. He couldn't explain how or why, but he knew the giant eye before him was not the same alien entity from his dream. It was Harry's Patronus, fully matured.
No one spoke, stunned into silence by the great green ball.
To test this theory, Harry extended his will to the Patronus, willing it to attack the Dementors. Unexpectedly, the Patronus did not comply, but instead answered him.
Entity: Harry James Potter, it spoke, its voice a chorus of men and women speaking in unison. We are here to assist.
Despite not having lips or even a face, Harry could tell the Eye was excited, as if allowed its favorite treat, and a moment later, large, green tendrils erupted from the bottom of the lake, lashing out at the Dementors even as they fled. Harry noticed they weren't all tentacles, either. Some were snake heads, trapping Dementors in their jaws.
The army of dark creatures scattered, fleeing as quickly as they could from a Horror far greater than they could ever be. In three years of scheming and studying, Harry had never felt so powerful. Nothing he'd achieved could compare to the Observer's favor, it seemed.
To think Dementors kept all of Azkaban's prisoners under control. He could probably drive the foul creatures all out, if he so wished.
Perhaps he could even make them serve him out of fear. Whoever had tried to kill him tonight wouldn't stand a chance against every Dementor in Azkaban.
A bright, white light in the darkness of the Hogwarts Grounds shook him from his reverie. As the last few stragglers escaped, Harry spotted the silhouette of Albus Dumbledore approaching from the castle as fast as an old man physically could, a blazing white phoenix on his shoulder.
Harry gazed mournfully at the giant eyeball. He had so much to ask, but he'd rather minimize the fuss Dumbledore would make over it, so he politely asked them to depart.
Understood, Harry James Potter, the myriad voices answered. We shall meet again.
And then the orb faded like a watercolor painting being washed away, the multitude of tentacles and snake heads vanishing with it.
Daphne
It didn't take a genius to recognize what happened. It only took insider information: The green, light-based entity that rose from the lake had looked exactly as Harry described it from his dreams.
Daphne knew everyone in Harry's circle would've recognized it, and likely arrived at the same conclusion she had: Harry's Patronus had taken the form of something not of this world.
She had no clue why it blazed the same green color as the Killing Curse instead of the usual white, or why it was so bloody huge, but she would've bet a hundred galleons that was Harry's Patronus, especially after it vanished just as Albus Dumbledore arrived.
She knew their Slytherin friends would be able to sort the story out for the Headmaster, especially since Snape had been unconscious for all of it, but whether Dumbledore learned of Harry's Patronus or not depended largely on three things: Willow Potter lacking critical information, Hermione not offering it up voluntarily, and Neville not accidentally giving off any clues.
All in all, she didn't like their chances.
Harry
Harry shared a quick glance with Daphne and knew they were thinking the same thing: It would be ideal but unlikely to let Dumbledore think the strange creature wasn't his Patronus.
The Headmaster reached them shortly, looking more worried than Harry had ever seen him. Dumbledore saw Snape's collapsed form on the ground and wordlessly conjured a floating stretcher to carry him.
"What happened here?" he asked, his voice stern.
"The Dementors got to Tracey!" Willow yelled. Harry cursed himself. He'd been so focused on what to say to Dumbledore he'd forgotten to check on his friend. Willow had knelt down next to her, checking for a pulse.
"And Snape was attacked," Harry added.
"Come," Dumbledore said. "We need to take them to the hospital wing."
With a wave of his wand, a second stretcher materialized out of thin air. Tracey and Snape's unconscious forms then floated silently onto the pair.
"We will talk while we walk," Dumbledore said. His usual cheerfulness was understandably missing. "What were you all doing here?"
"We discovered the truth about a lie over a dozen years old," Harry answered.
"What lie?" Dumbledore asked.
"Apologies, Headmaster, but can you prove you're who you claim to be first?" Harry asked. "As you can see, someone out here doesn't have our best interests at heart."
He gestured to the unconscious Potions Master. It was all a ploy to keep the question of his giant, green Patronus out of Dumbledore's thoughts, however. He just hoped all the new information would confound Dumbledore too much for him to remember to ask.
Dumbledore indicated the glowing, white phoenix that was his Patronus. "Surely, you don't think someone who wished you ill could mimic my Patronus?"
"I suppose not, Albus," Harry said, offering a small smile. "My apologies for doubting you."
"No offense taken, Harry," he said. "I see you've all been through an ordeal. Perhaps we should continue this conversation in my office?"
"Of course," Harry said. He turned to the black dog who was trying to slink away. "You, too."
"I suppose he would not be the strangest visitor I've ever had," Dumbledore remarked as they all resumed their walk to the Castle.
Inside the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore conjured several chairs so that they might all sit. They'd dropped Snape and Tracey off at the Hospital Wing first. Harry noted his sister looked rough. Bending so much fire while under the assault of Dementors clearly took a lot out of her, and Tracey taking a Dementor's attack for her only piled on top of it.
As if noticing this, Dumbledore pulled a collection of chocolate bars from his drawer and offered them to his students.
"Thank you, Albus," Harry said, though he felt he didn't need it. Perhaps it had been because he'd summoned his Patronus for real, but the Dementors' influence didn't linger as much despite their numbers.
His friends, on the other hand, looked rather shaken. Willow's group, especially. Hermione looked very badly like she was barely keeping herself from telling Dumbledore everything she knew and Neville was trying to look calm, though anyone who looked closer would see him fidgeting.
"Now, you said you discovered the truth?" Dumbledore asked. "I must say, Harry, I did not know you and your friends had become detectives while still studying at Hogwarts."
Harry didn't like the direction this had taken. He had no idea what Willow and company had been doing outside in the first place, and that unfortunately gave the floor to his sister.
"Hagrid sent me a letter asking if we'd like to drop by," Willow admitted. "Foolhardy, I know, but it sounded important."
"Ah, yes, Buckbeak was scheduled for execution this evening," Dumbledore said. Then, after a pause, he added, "Fortunate thing that he managed to get out of his restraints while Cornelius and I were with Hagrid."
Harry kept his face even. The Hippogriff had mysteriously gotten away while his sister was out on the grounds? How suspicious.
Nyx's voice filled his head. Your sister and her friends were right outside Hagrid's when Dumbledore and Fudge were there.
Ah, that explained a lot. Probably used a mix of Glamour and Willow's Invisibility Cloak. The thought gave Harry pause. He hadn't seen their assailant at all, other than the flash of their spellwork. Perhaps they'd employed a similar tool.
"Exactly, Sir," Willow said. "And when we were there, we found Scabbers- well, I guess that's not his real name."
Dumbledore furrowed his brow. "I'm afraid you've lost me."
Harry saw his chance to steal the initiative. "It's the Weasleys' pet rat, except it turns out he wasn't a rat at all."
Harry willed his trunk to open and reveal the stunned, bound, immobilized body of Peter Pettigrew. "Anyone you recognize, Albus?"
Dumbledore's eyes widened as he softly said, "It can't be. Peter Pettigrew?" He turned to Harry, who nodded.
"In hiding since the day Sirius Black supposedly murdered him and a dozen muggle witnesses," Harry said.
"Supposedly?" Dumbledore repeated.
"Black has been in Azkaban for thirteen years," Harry said. "So, why would a man with nothing to hide choose to spend his days as a rat?"
"What of Black?"
"We spoke with him," Harry admitted, keeping his gaze away from the shaggy dog. "He told us the real story of how the Dark Lord found our parents that night."
"And you trust him?" Dumbledore asked. "Pettigrew being alive is one thing, but Black-"
"Oh, that's right. He's right there," Harry said, gesturing to the shaggy, black dog. The dog looked somewhat miffed at being outed, but slowly shifted back into the unhealthy-looking man that was Harry's godfather.
"Hello, Albus," Black said, looking rather displeased with Dumbledore's mistrust.
"Sirius," Dumbledore said, taking a good look at the man who'd been in Azkaban for thirteen years. "I am so sorry. Had I known-"
"That I was standing in the room the whole time?" Black asked.
"If I had known you were innocent, I would've fought for you," Dumbledore said. He quickly conjured a chair for Black, but Black didn't take it.
"What was that about you questioning my godson's trust in me, then?" Black questioned. "Sometimes I think you wanted me to go to Azkaban."
"I would never wish Azkaban upon anyone," Dumbledore said. "I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy."
"Well, yes, seeing as how you put him in his own special little prison that doesn't have Dementors," Black shot back. "Anyway, get the Veritaserum and we can wake this rat bastard."
"Er, about that-" Dumbledore began, when the door to his office suddenly opened. The Potions Master stepped in, holding a vial of what Harry presumed to be Veritaserum.
"Ah, Severus, you've recovered already?" Dumbledore asked.
"Obviously," Snape answered. "The spell directed at me seemed to lack potency. Either the caster was not fully trained or they have an unfortunate incompetence with magic."
"No spell is perfect, I suppose," Harry commented. "It proved resistant to the Reviving Spell."
"Madam Pomfrey said the same thing," Snape said. He clearly had more to say on the subject, but kept it to himself.
Or maybe distance makes spells weaker, Harry thought, but didn't share with the rest. If anyone else had noticed the sniper on the other side of the lake, they hadn't mentioned it. He'd need to run a few tests in the Chamber to see if that theory was correct.
"I thought you might want to give Pettigrew this," Snape said, placing the bottle on the table. "Black is unfortunately an occlumens."
"Ronald isn't," Harry suggested. "He could corroborate Pettigrew's statements."
"Me? Why?" Ronald began.
"An inspired idea, Mister Potter," Snape drawled with a barely-concealed smirk. "Very well, Mister Weasley. We shall, of course, keep everything you say in the strictest confidence."
"I do not think that will be necessary, Severus," Dumbledore interjected. "Two drops of Veritaserum for Mister Pettigrew should suffice."
"As you wish, Headmaster," Snape said.
Dumbledore spelled a lock on his office door before using Rennervate to rouse Pettigrew from his stupor, which led to yet another poor attempt at begging for his freedom.
"I'm sorry, Peter," Dumbledore said with a hint of pity in his voice. "But all evidence seems to point the finger at you."
Snape waved his wand to force Pettigrew still while he placed two drops of the clear liquid in his mouth.
"Now then, Peter," Dumbledore spoke. "Were you James and Lily's Secret-Keeper?"
"N- Yes, I was," Pettigrew answered.
"And you betrayed them?"
"Yessss." The answer felt drawn out, as if dragged from his mouth by the Veritaserum.
"Did Voldemort threaten you?"
Harry noticed Ronald and Neville flinch in his peripheral vision, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. When was his name going to get reactions like that?
"He did."
Harry did, however, roll his eyes at that. Why did he let a Gryffindor handle the questioning? If you were using a truth serum, you needed to ask very specific questions so you wouldn't be duped by loopholes.
"Was Voldemort's threatening you the primary reason you betrayed our parents?" Harry asked.
"Y- No."
He'd figured as much. Voldemort probably threatened everyone, including his cronies.
"What did Voldemort offer you in exchange for betraying our parents?" Harry pressed.
"Power. G-glory. W-wealth," Pettigrew answered. "All things I didn't have."
Harry turned to Dumbledore. "As you can see, Black is innocent."
"Hardly," Snape commented with a grimace.
"Alright, maybe not innocent," Harry said. "But certainly not worthy of a life sentence in Azkaban?"
"He should be free," Pettigrew said.
"I wasn't asking you." Harry smirked. "But since you are in a talking mood: What do you know about the wizard or witch who stunned Professor Snape?"
"Nothing," Pettigrew said.
Harry nodded. He'd suspected as much. Pettigrew reeked of cowardice and incompetence. Whoever made an attempt on their lives had been careful- they'd fired their shot, and then vanished in case things didn't turn out as planned.
"Well, I've asked all my questions," Harry said. "Did you have any more for him?"
"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Peter, what do you know of the creature from the lake?"
"Nothing."
Harry resisted the urge to frown. He'd hoped Dumbledore would forget.
"He was in the trunk the entire time," Harry said. "Why do you think he'd know?"
"I cannot be certain," Dumbledore answered. "But such a thing that could frighten even Dementors must be quite Dark, indeed. I thought perhaps Peter would know."
"A fair assumption," Harry conceded.
"What did you make of it, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry pretended to need a moment to think before answering. "I'm not sure. It didn't seem hostile to us at least. Some ancient creature that only attacks Dementors, perhaps?"
Dumbledore seemed to mull the suggestion over. "If that's true, it must be ancient, indeed. I've never heard of such a thing. Just to be sure, perhaps you should all submit yourselves to an examination by Madam Pomfrey."
"A good idea, Albus," Harry answered. "We wish to visit Tracey, anyway. So, will you be asking the Wizengamot to overturn Black's case in light of this new evidence?"
"Of course," Dumbledore answered, turning to Black. "I'll vouch for you during the trial. I am so sorry I didn't believe in you thirteen years ago. In fact, I'll owl Cornelius and Madam Bones as soon as we finish here."
Harry nodded. He needed to have a word with Amelia about the communication mirrors being tampered with during the attack. The saboteur had either been an insider or had connections to a really competent enchanter, and he honestly had no clue which.
Madam Pomfrey didn't find anything wrong with them, which while unsurprising, gave Harry peace of mind. He knew it had only been a Patronus manifesting strangely, but it was good to be sure he wouldn't grow tentacles any time soon.
Tracey was still asleep on one of the beds. Harry saw the look on Willow's face, turned to the others, and said, "Can we give them some privacy?"
Whether because they understood or because they respected him enough, his friends wordlessly left the Hospital Wing, waiting in the corridor outside.
"Give who privacy?" Ronald asked.
Harry sighed. "Come with me."
"What's going on?" Ronald asked, though he mercifully followed.
Harry gave his sister a knowing look, and she mouthed the words 'Thank you,' before Harry left her and Tracey in peace.
Five minutes later, Willow rejoined them. "Harry, can I talk to you?"
"Is Tracey going to stay the night?" he asked.
"She is," Willow said. "The Dementor seemed to affect her badly."
Harry considered what he knew about Tracey's home life, and answered, "I can imagine why."
"So, can we talk?" Willow repeated.
Harry did his best to smile. "Of course. What about?"
"In private."
Harry nodded, and then asked his group to wait up while he and Willow found an empty classroom to speak in.
Notes:
Last four chapters go up tomorrow. I'm just reading through it again.
Chapter 27: Light and Shadow
Chapter Text
"I'll never know why Filch doesn't lock these at night," Harry commented, but Willow didn't seem in the mood for small talk. "What is it?"
"I feel like shit," his sister said. It was strange hearing his sister, the Girl Who Lived, who always tried to look strong in public, say the word 'shit.'
"Is this about Tracey?" he asked.
Willow nodded. "I can't believe I'm talking to you about this, of all people."
Harry offered a small smile despite his exhaustion. "It's not like many people know. And you can't blame yourself. She was the one who decided to jump in front of-"
"That's exactly it!" Willow yelled, loud enough that Harry actually feared for a moment that she'd set something on fire. "I can't believe her!"
"Er-"
"I was going to ask her to give me space!" Willow added, looking on the verge of tears.
Harry considered. This was hardly his area of expertise, but Willow was right. How many people could she really talk to about this? "Do you still feel that way?"
"I don't know," Willow admitted. "I mean, I do like her, but-"
Harry's smile faltered. "You know, it's kind of funny."
"Thank you for finding my confused lovelife amusing," Willow drawled.
"Oh God, are you hearing yourself?" Harry asked. "You sound like a Slytherin. Must be from getting snogged by one."
Willow huffed. "Do you have a point or are you just going to keep teasing me?"
"I used to think you and I couldn't be more different," Harry said. "You're bright, impulsive, always doing what you think is right. I've always been guarded, always thinking about the future. I thought we were like light and shadow."
"Really?" Willow asked.
"Yeah," Harry admitted. "The thought never occurred to you?"
"No," Willow said. "To me, you were always just my long lost brother. I never thought I'd get the chance to meet you, you know, since everyone thought you were dead. Hey, what's wrong?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
Willow pointed at her right eye, and Harry did the same to his. He felt a drop of liquid flowing down his cheek. Oh. Oh. He quickly wiped it away.
"Nothing's wrong," he said. Bless his sister sometimes.
"So, you were saying something about me and Tracey?" Willow asked, seeming to catch on and not wanting to embarrass him.
"I was saying you should make whichever choice you don't think you'll regret," Harry said.
"And which one is that?" she asked.
"I don't know," he admitted. "That's the thing about making big choices like this, you know? You think about everything good that could happen if you go through with it, but at the back of your head, every bad thing that could happen holds you back."
"D-did you make a choice, too?"
"I did," Harry answered, looking at the Portkey ring Daphne had given him. "And I think I picked wrong. I know it's overused, but 'Follow your Heart' is a cliché for a reason, you know."
Willow seemed to mull the words over. "I'll think about it."
"Tracey's a good person, you know," Harry added. "If nothing else, I think she really cares about you."
And if Willow's reaction tonight was anything to go by, she cared about Tracey, too.
His sister seemed to consider his words for a bit. When she spoke again, it was something he hadn't expected. "What do you know about the creature from the Lake?"
Fuck. He thought they were having a moment there. Harry gave her a searching look. "What do you mean?"
"Look, I'm not stupid," Willow said. "Certainly not as smart as you, but I think I know you well enough by now."
Harry smiled, and sat on the desk in front. "Go on."
"You always do this," Willow said. "When we're talking to Dumbledore. You take the lead so you can- so you can avoid talking about things you don't want to."
"That obvious, huh?" Harry asked, his tone casual.
It is kind of obvious, Nyx agreed. Surprised Dumbledore hasn't caught on.
Harry thought about that for a second. It was strange the old man seemed oblivious, but perhaps that was an act. Maybe Dumbledore didn't trust him, either.
"So you're admitting it?" Willow asked.
"Well, I prefer to call it 'steering the conversation in a less dangerous direction.'" He shrugged. "But yes, that's the idea."
"So you do know what that thing was?"
"I have a hunch," Harry answered. It wasn't technically a lie since he couldn't be a hundred percent sure. "But I can't say I know what it is, exactly."
"Well, what do you think it is, then?"
"Before I answer, I have a question for you," Harry said.
Willow crossed her arms. "Go on."
"If you knew what I was doing in there, why'd you let me do the talking anyway?" he asked.
"Because you're my brother. We haven't known each other long but if it's something you don't want Dumbledore to know, you probably have good reason," Willow admitted. "And I thought you were protecting one of your friends."
"Wait, what?"
"That thing in the Lake," Willow said. "That was some Dark creature one of your friends summoned, wasn't it?"
Harry almost broke into laughter, but managed to contain it to a grin. "No, no, that's not it at all."
"Then what was it?"
Harry weighed his options, then he weighed the consequences of letting her know as much as he thought he knew. In the end, his answer was: "Expecto Patronum."
The bright, white tadpole-bullet shot out of Harry's wand and into the wall, causing Willow to flinch at its speed and suddenness.
At least it answered Harry's previously-unanswered question about whether or not he'd be getting the giant eyeball form every time he tried to conjure his Patronus now.
It seemed conjuring the giant form was either something he couldn't do at will or had requirements he didn't currently meet. He'd have to do some experimentation to determine which. Ah, so much to do when he got back to the Chamber.
His Patronus hopped closer so Willow could get a better look at its small, fang-filled mouth and the pair of little tentacles that served as its means of locomotion.
"What is it?" Willow asked.
"I have no idea," Harry admitted. "Certainly no animal I've ever seen."
"Er, if you don't mind, what was your happy thought?"
"That's the thing," Harry said, sighing. "I haven't been using one. Not since the train."
"You could conjure this all the way back then?" Willow asked, sounding betrayed.
Harry winced. "No, actually. It first manifested during summer."
"And you've been pretending you can't conjure it this whole time?"
He nodded. "I mean look at it. It's a Patronus out of someone's nightmares. Remember how poorly they treated you last year when they thought you summoned the Basilisk?"
Willow pursed her lips, then said, "Didn't we literally just agree you're not my evil twin or anything? You're my brother!"
Harry was taken aback. "In my defense, we'd just established that. I wasn't sure until now."
"It's a little frightening, I suppose," Willow conceded. "But if this is your Patronus, then what was that thing in the lake?"
"It doesn't always come out like this," Harry explained. "The very first time, it was a tentacle with eyeballs where the suctions should be."
"So, you think that thing in the lake was your Patronus, in a different form?" Willow asked. "But Harry, that was far too different from a Patronus. It was green, for starters, and it inspired none of the feelings a Patronus is supposed to."
Harry gestured to the tadpole. "Can you honestly say this only inspires feelings a Patronus is supposed to?"
Willow pursed her lips before shaking her head. "I suppose not, but-"
"If you want more proof, you've probably noticed that lake creature's pupil had a particular shape," he said, tapping the Keyhole-shaped scar on his forehead. "Conclusive proof? Maybe not, but it does point that way."
"What were you thinking about when you cast it, if not a happy thought?"
Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. Survival? The thought that if I was going down I'd at least take as many of them with me as I could? It's hard to recall exactly."
"Maybe you should tell Dumbledore," Willow said. "I've never heard of a Patronus acting so weird, but-"
"He doesn't know, either," Harry said sternly. "Worst case, he'll conclude I've been marked by Voldemort or some other evil and find an excuse to snap my wand."
"He wouldn't do that," Willow countered.
"Like how he didn't let the Ministry send Black to Azkaban despite being one of the staunchest defenders of the light side? Like how he wouldn't have been perfectly alright with sending Hagrid off to Azkaban if I hadn't suggested to send him to Nurmengard instead?"
Willow didn't answer right away. "You're really convinced he's out to get you, aren't you?"
"Not specifically. I don't think he hates me, but I am a spare piece in his chess game against Voldemort," Harry answered. "And a spare that doesn't act like he thinks I should, at that."
"We're not game pieces, Harry," Willow said. "We're people."
"I'm not sure Dumbledore sees it that way," Harry said. "Who knows how many other people he's using?"
There was a silence as Willow seemed to have a thought, but whatever it was, she didn't feel inclined to share.
"Alright," Willow said. "I won't tell him."
"Thank you."
"But I think you're wrong about him."
"If so, that'd be one of the few times I'd be glad I was wrong."
Chapter 28: Turning Stones
Chapter Text
"It has to be the Dark Lord," Theo insisted.
Harry shook his head. It was the day after the Dementors attacked them and they were all in the library of the Chamber of Secrets, seated comfortably on some chairs Salazar had been kind enough to furnish the room with.
Their number included Justin, whom they hadn't been able to reach out to until that morning, since he'd been in the Hufflepuff dorm during the attack. Tracey had been discharged from the Hospital Wing and brought up to speed, as well.
"It's not him," Harry answered. He honestly didn't feel as confident as he sounded, but something just didn't sit right with him.
"Why are you so sure?" Daphne asked.
"I'm not," Harry admitted. "But it doesn't fit. Justin, you're good at reading people. What do you think?"
Justin pursed his lips and thought before answering. He usually answered quicker than that, but Harry had put him on the spot. "I don't think it's him, either."
"Because?" Tracey asked.
"Voldemort's kind of a diva, isn't he?" Justin answered.
"I- I wouldn't repeat that outside this room," Theo cautioned, though he did look amused.
"Noted," Justin said. "But it's true, isn't it? From what I've read and what we know so far, he's got a penchant for making bold statements, doesn't he?"
Harry nodded. "My thoughts, exactly. On the night he murdered my birth parents, he'd come himself instead of sending his Death Eaters. When he set the Basilisk loose, he had Ginny announce him on the walls with blood. The man is dramatic, for sure. He's like a phantom thief announcing his crimes in advance, confident he won't fail."
"But he does fail," Neville pointed out.
Harry grinned. "Beside the point, but yes. Last night was nothing like that. If I hadn't caught a glance of the spell that took out Snape, I'd never have known there was even an attempt on our lives."
"Are you sure it was a spell that took out Snape?" Justin asked.
"No," Harry admitted. "But it looked like some kind of long-distance stunner."
"Hang on," Pansy said. "If it's not the Dark Lord, then who is it? Do you have any other enemies, Harry?"
"Most of them are Death Eaters," Harry said. "And while I don't think they all have Voldemort's flair for theatrics, it just seems so random for them to do it now. Why not when Willow and I barely had magic? Or when Dumbledore was away after Lucius tried to get him removed last year?"
"Have you considered you might not have been the target at all?" Daphne asked.
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. No. No, he had not. It made a great deal of sense, though. His friends were largely the heirs of noble houses, which all likely had their fair share of enemies.
"So you're suggesting they were after one of us?" Theo asked. "And Harry and Willow were just what? Collateral damage?"
"What an inglorious way to die," Harry drawled. "Still, it's impressive someone got closer to killing me than the Dark Lord without actually aiming for me."
"Not everything is about you, you know," Daphne teased.
He smirked. "Ah, you make me feel so appreciated, Daph."
Seriously, why aren't you two dating? Nyx spoke in his head.
"I still can't believe we all would've been soulless husks by now if Harry wasn't so-" Hermione trailed off, unable to find the words.
"Blessed?" Harry suggested, smirking. He'd never been particularly religious, himself. Hard to think God would have allowed kids to have childhoods like his, after all. Still, when a cosmic horror talked to you in your dreams, your opinion changed.
"Not the term I would use," Blaise said. "But sure."
"I still can't believe your horror god thing is real," Theo said, shaking his head. "Hard to deny now, though."
"So, have you tried reproducing that Patronus again?" Tracey asked.
"Yep," Harry answered. "Expecto Patronum."
The tadpole creature flew out of his wand, landing softly on top of a study table.
"I guess you can't, then," Theo said.
"Performance issues, mate?" Blaise quipped.
"Sod off," Harry answered, though he grinned. "Working theory is that it only grows like that under certain conditions. It came out small and grew while under the lake, after all. And yes, I already tried dipping it in water. Doesn't work."
"Well, I didn't notice what else it was doing," Tracey said. "Was kind of busy being knocked out at the time."
"I'll have to think on it," Harry said. "Still, it's good enough that we and the Dementors all know I can do it."
"Right," Justin said. "Having a weapon is threatening enough, regardless of if you actually use it or not."
"Merlin. How did you go from conjuring birds to threatening Dementors in three years?" Blaise asked, shaking his head.
"Like I said, someone's looking out for me," Harry answered, glancing upwards. Somewhere out there, in the far reaches of space, his patron was watching.
"Well, good, because it turns out someone's after one or more of us," Daphne said, sounding like she was humoring him more than anything. "Maybe that'll balance it out a bit."
"Also, I was wondering, but does anyone know what the effective range on spells is?" Harry asked.
"How do you mean?" Hermione asked. "Most spells can only go as far as you can see."
"Our assailant," Harry spoke. "It might have been because it was too dark or maybe they were using some way to conceal themselves, but all I saw was the flash of their spell. They shot from the other side of the water."
Theo caught on. "Meaning they were too far for you to see, but they could somehow still target Snape precisely."
"Unless we think they just fired randomly and happened to hit Snape, the most crucial part of our defense," Harry offered, though he knew no one believed that.
"We should run tests," Justin suggested.
"My thoughts, exactly. To the main hall?"
"Expelliarmus!" Daphne incanted, and the red sparks flew several meters through the air before dissipating.
"Well, this isn't what the book said at all," Harry commented.
Hermione huffed in protest. "I-I'm sure the research was conducted correctly."
Harry kind of doubted it. You could write a book about your own experiences and have it be right, but what's true for you might not be true for others.
"Justin, again," Harry asked.
"Expelliarmus," Justin incanted, sending red sparks through the air. They traveled almost twice as long as Daphne's before they vanished. It was a far cry from the range of the spell that had incapacitated Snape, but it proved it was possible. It's just that they had no idea how to do it.
"Daph, Justin, can you toss a few different spells for me? For some reason, you two seem to produce the shortest and longest range spells, respectively."
And so the trials continued. They tried Immobulus, Stupefy, and several others. They even tested how far they could conjure snakes using Serpensortia.
"Fascinating," Harry spoke after they'd finished.
"What is?" Theo asked.
"It's length versus width," Harry answered. "Justin's spells hit very far, but they've got a thin- I dunno what to call it really, I guess area of effect? They're narrow. You really have to hit someone dead-on."
"And mine are wider?" Daphne suggested. "I did notice with the Immobulus, particularly. Mine seems to spread more, even if the range is a lot shorter."
"Exactly," Harry said, grinning. "Everyone else seems to fall somewhere between you two on the spectrum, but I wonder if this is something you're bound with for life or if you can train yourself to adjust."
The idea sent his brain spinning. Being able to modify how far spells could reach or how wide of an area they affected was a gamechanger, especially if no one outside their group knew about it.
"Do you think Isabela would know anything about this?" Harry asked.
"She's never mentioned it," Daph admitted. "But I can ask."
"Thank you," Harry said. "Well, I think it's been a productive day, don't you?"
Dumbledore
He sat in his office, waiting.
He'd delayed calling upon Fudge, having much to think about. He'd been wrong about Sirius. He couldn't have known that Sirius had swapped positions with Peter at the last second, but still, he'd had no faith in him. Perhaps he'd lost so much during the war that he needed someone to blame.
It was ironic, really, that he could see the good in Severus, or even the young Malfoy, and yet, for over a decade he'd never questioned if he'd been wrong about Sirius, one of his greatest allies.
It was the times, he told himself. Those had been dark times, when he'd lost faith in one of the light's staunchest defenders. Certainly, Sirius had employed some of the Death Eater's own tricks against them, courtesy of his lineage, but that didn't mean he'd turned on them. He was hardly the only good wizard who used Unforgivables against the Death Eaters.
Darkness is darkness, Fawke's noble voice echoed in his head. Light is light.
Ah, my friend, if only things were so simple for us humans, Dumbledore answered. If we were to apply that logic, then young Harry would be- he trailed off.
Harry perplexed him, he was ashamed to admit. Despite doing his best to see the good in him, Harry bore many of the hallmarks of Tom Riddle. There was no denying that. He'd been wary at first, but Harry's actions in second year when he defeated Tom Riddle's shade had changed Dumbledore's mind.
Two apex predators fighting over territory, Fawkes commented.
Your instincts are usually keen, my friend, but Harry deserves the benefit of the doubt, Dumbledore answered. He believed it, too. Harry even managed to get some of his fellow Slytherins to fight against Tom's shade.
Children you'd written off, Fawkes reminded him.
The accusation stung him, largely because it was true. He was, of course, aware that Severus had a tendency to instigate Slytherin House against the others. He'd orchestrated it, after all: When the time came, Severus would be a trusted agent against Voldemort's return, but for now, he fanned the flames of hostility between the three houses and Slytherin, in the hope that when Voldemort rose again, only Slytherin would join him.
"Then perhaps Harry is simply wiser than I," Dumbledore said aloud.
Before their conversation could continue, the revolving staircase of his office moved to admit the visitor he'd been expecting. Cornelius Fudge strode in, huffing and looking ready to kill someone.
"Where is he?" Fudge asked.
"Cornelius," Dumbledore greeted, smiling behind his beard. "Lemon drop?"
"Perhaps another time, Albus," Fudge said, barely hiding his impatience. "Where is Black?"
"As I told you by letter, there's been a development," Albus spoke calmly, the way he would to a student who'd done something wrong.
"Yes, a development," Fudge repeated. "Though you failed to explain what exactly it was!"
"I deemed it too important to send by letter," Dumbledore said. "There's no telling what this information could do in the wrong hands."
"Look, Albus, I'm a very busy man, either you tell me or-" Fudge stopped, because the revolving staircase admitted another guest, whom Dumbledore had also been expecting.
Amelia Bones gave his office a quick look, likely casing the place for traps out of habit, before walking up to join Fudge at his desk. "I'm not late, am I?"
"You are not, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "Cornelius was simply a little eager."
"A little eager?" Fudge echoed. "A little eager? This man has made a mockery of Azkaban, and me! The sooner we bring him down, the better."
"Then, I won't withhold the information any longer," Dumbledore said. "Black did not betray James and Lily, nor did he murder those muggles and Peter Pettigrew."
"Oh, please, who are you trying to fool?" Fudge demanded. "This is just a ploy, isn't it? So I have to step down as Minister? Finally making your move, are you, Albus?"
Madam Bones' reaction was much more tempered. "Do you have evidence of this claim?"
"As a matter of fact," Dumbledore began, gesturing to a chair he'd placed under a Notice-Me-Not. It went without saying he undid the spell without a wand or incantation.
Peter Pettigrew had been in the room the entire time, heavily sedated and still bound in the same things he'd been held with the previous night minus Harry's trunk, a rather remarkable device in itself. That, he'd returned to Harry.
"And who is this, then?" Fudge asked.
"That, Cornelius, is Peter Pettigrew," he answered. "Supposedly killed on that fateful night, thirteen years ago."
"What's wrong with him?" Amelia asked.
"We've put him under several spells," Dumbledore explained. "It turns out Peter here is an animagus, you see. He's been in hiding as the Weasleys' pet rat."
"Let him talk," Amelia said. "Do you have-"
"Severus will be along with Veritaserum shortly."
Peter attempted to plead his way out, at first, but under the influence of Veritaserum, he confessed everything he had the previous night, and even Cornelius couldn't deny Black's innocence.
"Where is Black now?" Fudge asked.
"Under my protection," Dumbledore said. He didn't mention that Black was literally upstairs, listening in on the conversation.
"I'm not going to arrest him anymore, Albus," Fudge protested. "We need to get his name cleared."
"Oh, I didn't mean he needed protection from you," Dumbledore explained. "There was another incident last night."
"Joy of joys," Fudge drawled. "What is it?"
"There was an attempt last night to kill someone on these grounds," Dumbledore said. "Using almost a hundred of the Ministry's Dementors."
"What?" Fudge asked. "Who was the target? Did you catch the attacker?"
"Unfortunately, we do not know much," Dumbledore admitted. "An immobilizing spell was cast on Severus while he was fending off Dementors, giving the Dementors free reign to attack a group of students along with Peter and Sirius."
"Are- are they alright?" Fudge asked.
Amelia crossed her arms. "Albus, this group of students wouldn't happen to include-"
Dumbledore just barely managed to stop himself from wincing in front of Amelia's withering gaze. "Yes, Amelia, Willow and Harry were there."
"Incredible, Albus," Amelia deadpanned. "Every. Single. Year."
"I apologize, Amelia, I do my best to protect them, but-"
"Bastard died thirteen years ago and somehow he's still causing trouble for everyone," Amelia muttered, fuming.
"They are, of course, alright," Dumbledore said, answering Fudge's question. "I would have informed you both immediately otherwise."
"A group of children and Black warded off almost a hundred Dementors?" Fudge asked.
Dumbledore frowned. "They seemed to have help. I do not know the details, but a creature rose out of the lake and seemed to repel the Dementors."
"A Patronus?" Amelia asked.
"Impossible. No child could produce one powerful enough for all of those Dementors," Fudge said dismissively.
"Again, I do not know," Dumbledore answered. "I barely caught a glimpse of it, but it was a large creature that seemed to glow a sickly green."
"And you've no clue as to the assailant's identity?" Amelia asked. "Or even whom they were targeting?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "They were extremely careful. Harry barely caught sight of them before they disappeared into the night, but I suspect an assassin loyal to Voldemort."
"Is it me, or for the headmaster, do you not know a lot of things that go on in this school?" Fudge asked.
Dumbledore smiled easily. "Hogwarts has many mysteries. Even I still get lost in its halls sometimes. Why, just the other day, I was looking for a bathroom and-"
"Stop," Amelia said. "I've heard this one already. Did Harry mention why he and Willow didn't alert the aurors?"
"He hadn't mentioned that, no," Dumbledore said.
"I'll have a word with him, then," Amelia said. "And then Willow, to be sure the boy isn't pulling a fast one on me again."
"Well, then, shall we hold the hearing to clear Sirius' name some time this week?" Dumbledore asked.
"Of course," Fudge said. "And Pettigrew will be brought to Azkaban to pay for his crimes."
"Then, Dumbledore," Amelia began. "There's just one more matter."
Dumbledore furrowed his brow. He couldn't think of anything else. "What might that be?"
"Can you tell me why one of our Dementors has gone missing?"
Harry
Harry stared at his Patronus, still in its tadpole state. He really wished he understood what the condition was for making it grow bigger.
Chapter 29: Relationships Renewed
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Harry hadn't been able to attend Sirius' trial. He had class, after all, and finals besides. Still, with Fudge and Amelia being witnesses to Pettigrew's confession, there was no way the ruling against Black wouldn't be reversed. Unfortunately, Pettigrew himself had somehow managed to escape while on route to Azkaban.
They'd figured he wasn't important enough to be put under heavy guard, and his escort had easily been overpowered by an unknown assailant. Harry couldn't tell whether it had been the Death Eaters or the same person who'd tried to kill them, or someone else entirely.
He didn't care, really. There were other things on his mind, like developing countermeasures for their attacker, in case another attempt at their lives came in the future.
And that was why Harry was currently sitting in the center of the Chamber of Secrets, on a conjured throne chair, with a glass box in front of him and the Heir of House Greengrass at his side with a disgusted look on her face.
"What in Merlin's name is that?" Daphne asked. She put in zero effort to hide her distaste.
The glass box was technically an aquarium, though Harry hadn't put water in it. The inhabitants, after all, weren't fish. Inside the glass box was a myriad of venomous snakes, all conjured and nonmagical, with no two being of the same species. They crawled around as a writhing mass, fighting and killing each other for the limited space.
"This is my take on a Japanese curse technique," Harry answered. "Called the Kodoku."
"Oh, good, so this isn't just some sick new pastime for you, then," Daphne drawled. "This is what I get for checking in on you in your evil lair."
Harry faltered. "Look, we're under attack," he said. "We've got no clue who it was, and it doesn't look like this is going to be resolved by the end of the school year like usual."
Daphne's lips flatted into a thin line. "I know that, Harry. It's summer soon, and we'll all be separated. Whoever they are, they'll be a lot harder to fend off outside Hogwarts. Well, unless you're highborn, of course. Theo, Blaise, and I are probably safe. Willow will be, too, since I imagine Amelia's shored up the defenses on their place ever since Voldemort attacked them so many years ago."
She was right, and he knew it. Most of their friends were in positions where they'd be safe enough. Pansy's family would protect her. Justin hadn't been in the group when they were attacked so that ruled him out as a target.
That just left him, Hermione, Neville (he wasn't sure how defended Longbottom Manor was), Ginny, and Tracey. He couldn't imagine anyone sending a serious assassin after Hermione, Ginny, or Tracey. They were important to him, but not nearly as much to the rest of the world, no offense to them.
Which, really, only left him and Neville. "And that's exactly why I have to be on guard," Harry said. "I keep making mistakes this year."
Daphne frowned. Her tone when she spoke was reproachful. "Look, fearless leader, you don't have to put up a front when it's just you and me. I already promised I'd stand by your side until the end. Tracey, too." Then, with a smirk, she added, "Though I suspect she's a bit more loyal to the other Potter."
Harry smirked back. "Who? My sister? Gee, I never would have guessed."
Daphne rolled her eyes, but grinned. "No, the guy who makes vases for our living room."
There was something he adored whenever Daphne smirked or grinned. She had a glimmer in her eyes that made them look like sapphires. He bit his lip. "Have I told you you're gorgeous lately?"
"Just lately?" she replied, though there was a hint of a blush creeping on her cheeks.
"No, you're always pretty, but-" Harry paused. "More than usual, lately."
Daphne's face flushed crimson, and she turned away from him. "Fine, fine, explain your weird snake project to me."
Harry blinked, and then he cleared his throat. "One of the texbooks I have on Eastern magic made reference to a Kodoku," Harry explained. "Basically, you put a bunch of poisonous insects in a jar, let them kill each other, then the sole survivor can be used to facilitate the casting of powerful curses."
"Insects, you say? Your version seems markedly different," Daphne said, gesturing towards the mass of snakes.
"Had to make do with what I could conjure up," Harry answered. "Besides, I don't know nearly as many different kinds of insects as I do snakes."
"So what does this curse actually do?" Daphne asked.
"No idea," Harry admitted. "The details were vague in the first place. Don't even know if it'll work, really, since I'm not doing it by the book. But if it does, it'd be nice to have it on hand if I get attacked at the Dursleys'."
"Well, don't forget to have an antidote or something ready, Heir Potter," she reminded him. "You remember what happened last time you messed with snake venom."
"Oh God," Nyx chimed in with Parseltongue. "You're not usssing me to try it out, are you?"
"Don't worry," Daphne assured her. "We'll make Harry try it before you."
"I'll be careful," he assured her.
"Good." Without warning, Daphne leaned over, cupped his chin in her hand, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "If you hurt yourself over the summer, I'll have to punish you."
Harry felt his face heat up, touching a hand to his cheek. Before he could say anything more, Daphne had trotted off, a satisfied grin on her face.
About damn time, Nyx said.
Tracey
Tracey had a bad feeling, and she always did trust her gut. She didn't know if it was a half-vampire thing or not, but she'd always had good intuition. She and Willow hadn't had a private conversation since the Dementors knocked her out. Their public conversations had been limited to Willow asking if she was alright and Tracey answering she was.
It had been a pleasant surprise when Ashes contacted her saying Willow wanted to meet outside, but she couldn't help but feel like she wouldn't like the actual content of their conversation.
Where are you? she thought.
At the lake, Ashes answered. Only Willow, Charra, and I are here.
I'm almost there, she answered, not that Ashes could talk to Willow in any way. It was a shame the part of her that had been a Parselmouth was gone, but Willow seemed to prefer that.
She found Willow resting on a red-and-white checkered blanket with a basket next to her. Tracey's heart stopped. Was this what she thought it was?
"Hey," was all she could say, feeling more than a little dumb.
"Hey yourself," Willow answered, patting the spot next to her. Ashes was currently curled up in her lap looking content.
There was no stopping the grin on her face as she plopped down next to the Girl Who Lived. "You got me. I thought you were going to break up with me or something."
Willow frowned. "I was."
"Oh." Tracey turned away. Her chest felt heavy.
"Key word being 'was,'" Willow added quickly.
"Oh?"
Willow huffed. "If you're going to keep answering with 'oh' I might just go through with it."
"No, no, no!" Tracey exclaimed. "Sorry, I just- I'm having trouble processing. I- why were you thinking about it? W-was I really that bad?"
"It just felt like we were going too fast, you know?" Willow said. "You asked me out to lunch over the summer and I accepted because it's not like we don't know each other, and before I knew it you had your tongue in my mouth and we were sneaking off to the Room of Requirement. Maybe not exactly in that order."
"I suppose that's true," Tracey said. She felt like an idiot.
"The thing is, I kind of understand why you did that," Willow offered.
"You do?"
Willow turned away, looking at the lake. "My parents weren't really around for my childhood, either." She tried to grin, but there was no joy in her eyes.
On impulse, Tracey pressed closer, until they were shoulder to shoulder. She'd missed Willow's warmth, the tingle down her spine when they were near each other.
"You had Madam Bones and Sue, though, didn't you?" Tracey suggested.
"And I love them both to death," Willow answered. "But Aunt Amelia is busy with work, too, you know, and she never really took that final step of acting like my mother. I think she didn't feel like it was her place."
"Could've fooled me," Tracey offered.
Willow smiled, but then she blinked. "Hey, wait a minute, we're not here to talk about them!"
"We aren't?"
Willow looked at her, green eyes boring into her soul. "I called you here because I wanted to talk about us."
Tracey's mouth felt dry. "Go on."
"I've been thinking," Willow began.
"I don't like the sound of that."
Willow rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Oh, shut up. I realized I really like you. Too much to break up with you, even."
"Great, because I really like you."
"Yes, I could tell, since you threw yourself in front of a Dementor to protect me," Willow said. "Cut that out, by the way. I don't want you taking stupid risks for me. Too many people have already died protecting me."
Tracey saw the sadness in Willow's face, and pressed against her harder. "What did I tell you in the forest? Don't worry. I'll protect you."
"And I appreciate you for it, but don't get yourself killed, alright?" Willow asked. "Life would kind of suck without you in it."
"Maybe next year I can save you from a dragon or something," Tracey joked.
Willow punched her softly. "Oh, stop."
Tracey let out a breath. "But you're right. I think I went after you for the wrong reasons. I was lonely, you know? Friends can only do so much."
"Your holidays at home are almost as bad as Harry's," Willow said. It wasn't a question.
"Well, not anymore," Tracey answered. "Thanks to Harry."
"Bless my brother sometimes," Willow said.
"So, what happens to us now?"
Willow was silent for several seconds. "I don't want what we have to stop."
"But?"
"But can we take it slower? Emotionally?" Willow asked. "I don't want to rush into anything we're not ready for."
"Slower how?"
"Like this," Willow said, suddenly cupping Tracey's face in her hand. Sparks flew through her system as Willow pulled her into a tender kiss. It lacked the passion of their secret meetups, but it more than made up for it with meaning.
"I- I can get behind that," Tracey said, feeling her cheeks turn red.
Willow beamed at her, and Tracey felt like her heart was going to melt. "Good, because I got food from the kitchens, and you're going to stay here with me until we finish it all."
"Yes, ma'am."
Pansy
She knocked on the wooden door, more nervous than she let on.
"Enter," Theodore Nott's voice answered. Pansy let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and opened the door.
It was an empty, nondescript classroom near Ravenclaw Tower, far from Harry or Willow's usual haunts. Theo sat in one of the chairs near the back, his demeanor friendly but guarded. He clearly wasn't sure why she'd asked to speak with him. She closed the door behind her, making sure to place a silencing charm on it.
"Pansy, if this is about whether or not my father's said anything about the Malfoys expressing regret for what happened, I haven't heard anything," Theo said quickly, but gently.
She expected that, but that wasn't why she was here. "Good to know, but I wasn't about to ask."
Theo quirked an eyebrow. If he wasn't confused before, he was now. "Then, pray tell, what did you want to discuss with me and only me?"
She pursed her lips, steeling herself. "Why is Harry in charge?"
Theo, somehow, looked even more confused. "Is it not obvious?"
"It really isn't," she said. "Wasn't he supposed to be a stray you took under your wing during first year? Why are you, Daphne, and Blaise all kowtowing to him?"
Theo massaged his right temple. "You've seen what he can do."
"The floating silver blob and his freaky patronus? Yes, I have," she answered. "He's certainly unique, but that doesn't mean he should be leading you lot around like a group of-"
"Choose your next words very carefully," Theo warned. Pansy did. She was no slouch in a duel, she'd like to think, but Theo was among the best duelists in their year. She didn't think he would hurt her for real because of the consequences, but better to err on the side of caution.
"I just mean- doesn't it bother you? Do you know what the upper years call him?" Pansy asked. Theo gestured for her to continue. "The Unseen Potter. It's because no one knows what he's doing. No one sees him outside meal times, class, and quidditch. Slytherin is the house of cunning and ambition, but you guys all seem content following someone who's seemingly never around."
"Because he's busy being the bloody Heritor of Slytherin," Theo answered flatly. "Or did you forget that?"
"But even before he got the Chamber, he's always been so invisible. Compared to Daphne or even his sister, Harry's nowhere to be seen."
Theo didn't answer immediately, but after a while, he shrugged. "Harry prefers his privacy. That's why Nyx always has him under Glamour in the halls."
"How is she even doing that?" Pansy asked. "I've experienced it. Fairies are supposed to be able to hide themselves from predators, but it's like Nyx can use the Confundus and Notice-Me-Not spells at will."
"You'll have to ask Harry that," Theo answered. "I admit I've wondered the same thing, but it's hardly the strangest thing he's got going on."
"I can tell," Pansy drawled. Harry was weird beyond weird.
"It's funny you mention our taking him under our wing as a reason he shouldn't be in charge, actually. I guess you wouldn't know everything, being new to the group and all."
It was Pansy's turn to look confused. "What do you mean?"
"Have you ever considered that Harry might have planned everything all along?" Theo asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," Pansy said.
"No. Think about it: A boy long thought dead with no social status and no estate just happens to spot three of the most influential students of his year at Madam Malkin's and befriends them."
"That was a coincidence. A happy accident in his favor."
Theo shook his head, silently telling her to let him finish. "I'm not so sure. In his first year, this boy manages to thwart the defenses the Hogwarts Professors set up around the Philosopher's Stone, using his wits and creative use of magic. Before we even finished first year, Harry could already conjure killer birds that could injure or maim a grown wizard."
Pansy didn't speak. She hadn't known about that.
"Over the summer, he practices to be a Beater for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, earning him both social status and the protection of Marcus Flint, who would hex anyone that came after his team, allowing Harry to pass unharrassed even if Nyx's glamour and his Notice-Me-Not failed. As a bonus, his Beater skills allowed him to hone his reflexes in dueling, to the point where he could keep up with Daphne and me in conventional dueling. In a real battle, I don't fancy my chances of winning. Between those living weapons he calls trunks, his small army of snakes, and his alien Key, I'd be hard-pressed to survive. That isn't even counting Nyx, whose abilities, thankfully, are limited against me because of Occlumency."
Before she could speak, Theo continued.
"Then, in second year, he defeats the Dark Lord's memory, becomes Heritor of Slytherin, and puts the Greengrasses in his debt all in one stroke while somehow keeping his name out of it. Nobody knows for sure what happened in the Chamber besides us, after all."
"You can't expect me to believe Harry planned everything to go that way. That's insane!"
"Oh, I doubt everything went exactly according to Harry's design," Theo answered easily. "But he's certainly adapted and made the most of things."
"So that's why you won't turn on him?" Pansy asked. "Because you're afraid of what he can do?"
"Yes and no," Theo admitted without a hint of shame. "The main reason is that I don't have a reason to turn against him, but I do have a lot of reasons not to."
"Such as?"
Theo counted off on his fingers. "I'm fond of him, for one. Harry's done right by me all this time. We're the house of cunning and ambition, not animals. Second, turning on Harry isn't turning on one person. He's got Daphne and Tracey firmly on his side. Those are two people I would not want to duel. You can count on his sister, their mutual friends, and possibly Justin and Blaise siding with him, too. Third, even if Harry as an individual is largely invisible like you say, the same isn't true for the group he's put together. Collectively, our circle is at the top of all our classes."
Pansy considered this, but before she could answer, Theo raised a fourth finger.
"Oh, and there is, of course, this small little detail that Harry is heir to Salazar Slytherin's lost knowledge and lore, which I would lose access to if I started a coup. If you want to turn on him, feel free. I won't stop you. I'll even stay my wand, but there's no benefit in it for me. Let sleeping old ones lie, I say."
"Don't you mean sleeping dragons?" Pansy asked.
"'Dragon' suits Willow better, don't you think?" Theo replied. "Harry's more akin to those ancient, undersea horrors that plot in the depths of the sea, only coming up to the surface when the stars are right for conquest. I suspect several of Harry's machinations will lay undetected for years. He's a master of deception."
Pansy scoffed. "You've made your point. I guess most people in the group are loyal to him for different reasons."
"That we are. Now, I won't tell Harry about this strange interview, but trust me when I say it's in your best interests to stay on his good side."
Justin
He felt like a prisoner on death row, the headsman's axe raised somewhere above his head. It's just he didn't know when it was coming down.
He had a sinking feeling the favor Sara had asked and the Dementor assassination plot against his friends were not unrelated. Trouble was, he wasn't entirely sure why an Auror under the DMLE, even someone with interesting connections like Sara, would want any of his friends dead. Even more baffling, if Daphne was right and the Potters hadn't been the target, was why she'd be willing to have Harry and Willow be collateral damage. That was sure to bring retribution down on anyone who tried.
He needed to talk to her, preferably with Dioscuria present. Perhaps he could invite her to the manor during the summer and-
"Justin," a familiar, calculating voice spoke his name as he passed a hall on the way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
He thought the term was 'speak of the devil.' He'd only been thinking about her, and yet she was here.
Sara had her arms folded across her chest, wearing a crisp black suit like she often did. The golden scarab amulet hung around her neck as usual, though for some reason it looked a little different. Almost like it had moved recently. He wouldn't put it past wizards to have autonomous jewelry.
"S-Sara!" he greeted, internally cursing himself for stuttering. "What are you doing here?"
Dios, are you near? Justin asked.
Yes, master. We are right around the corner.
Unfortunately, Sara already knew about Dioscuria's existence. The chances of catching her off-guard with his familiar were low.
"Bones called me in to deal with-" Sara paused, seemed to consider her words, and then said, "Missing office equipment, shall we say?"
Justin considered. The only 'equipment' the Aurors brought to Hogwarts were their wands and- Well, the Dementors he supposed. He sincerely hoped one of them hadn't gone on the loose. "Really? They asked you specifically to deal with missing equipment?"
Sara grinned. "I know, right? Slave away hours hunting Black and at the end of the day, I still get called on for things like this."
That reminded him of something. "Sara, you've been brought to speed on the Black situation by now, I imagine?"
She nodded. There was a knowing look in her eyes, but she wanted him to say it.
"Can we speak in private?" he asked.
"Of course," Sara said. "I always have time for a friend."
He led her into an empty classroom, then locked the door behind them after making sure Dios had slipped in, invisible as they were. He'd had to cast Notice-Me-Nots on his familiar during the mornings, when there weren't as many dark spots for them to travel around in.
"What did you want to talk about?" Sara asked, still playing coy.
"How'd that side project you were working on go?" he asked.
"Terribly," she answered. "It turns out stunners have a maximum range, even if you can see a target using a scope."
"That's a shame," he commented. "I thought you were going to bring battle magic to new heights. Still, aren't there any similar spells that could function at such a long range?"
Her lips twitched a little, the beginnings of a smirk. "Perhaps. Why do you ask? Do you need help against bullies or something?"
"You and I both know anyone who tries to hurt me is in for a rude awakening," Justin said evenly, though he felt his insides clench. He was tipping his toe into dangerous territory. Any threat he posed against Sara, she'd probably prepared a counter for.
"There are a few spells, I'm sure," she answered. "Perhaps none taught in English magic schools."
She was giving him a final chance to stop pressing, since so far he hadn't said anything that would incriminate her.
"I see," he said. "Thanks for sharing. My friends were attacked last night, you see. I was wondering, since you seemed to have an interest in long-range spellcasting, if you had any idea how they did it?"
"I'm sorry to hear your friends were attacked," Sara answered. "And like I said, there are a few spells that could do it, but it's hard to guess what they used. That would require me to have been present during the attack."
"Of course," he said, forcing a smile. It came easily enough. "Thank you, Sara."
As he was about to unlock the door and go, she stopped him. "Wait."
"Er, yes?"
"I just wanted to remind you," Sara drawled. "Once Black's name has been cleared of previous charges, the Newbournes will likely demand he pay for their head's murder."
Justin resisted the urge to bite his lip. He nodded, but didn't say anything else.
"Not to worry, though, I can apply a little pressure," Sara offered. "So they don't go around turning stones. You have nothing to worry about, my friend."
He swallowed, despite himself. The implication was clear: Sara held all the cards now. If he didn't want to stand trial for murder, he needed to stay on her good side. "Well, I'm glad I have such a valuable friend. Thank you, Sara."
She nodded. "By the way, I had a favor I needed."
Of course she did.
"What can I do for you?"
"I need some cargo moved," Sara said. "But this isn't really a good place to talk business. We can speak at length in the summer."
"Of course," Justin said. "I'll set aside some time."
"Thank you, Justin," Sara said. "I'm glad you've been so helpful lately."
"No problem."
There was a pause, and then Sara said, "Actually, there was one more thing."
"Go on," Justin said.
"You wouldn't happen to know how Harry tracked down Pettigrew and Black in the first place, would you?"
"Afraid not," Justin lied. How did Sara know Harry had gone after Pettigrew and Black? Harry's press release had been that Tracey's cat familiar spotted Willow in danger.
"I see. No matter," Sara answered. She had a Cheshire cat grin on her face as she finally signaled he could open the door and leave.
Notes:
1.) I wrote this chapter after my little mental breakdown, so my style probably changed a little bit. Pardon me for the inconsistency.
2.) Feel free to guess what Sara's going to make Justin do over the summer. I already have a plan for it, but I'd love to hear your theories.
3.) Kodokus seem like an actual thing from Japanese mythology, but I've taken liberties with it, obviously.
Chapter 30: Bound by Blood
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was the last day of school, and the Slytherin Team was having a sendoff party for the graduating players, including, to Harry's relief, Marcus Flint. He'd done a good job as captain, but he'd also worked Harry so hard that Harry was convinced to finally quit Quidditch altogether. He had more pressing things to do with his time.
"Good luck going pro, mate," Harry said, offering his hand to Flint. The captain grinned with his buck teeth that made people think he was related to a troll.
"Thanks, Potter. Good luck with Quidditch next year."
Harry frowned. "But Flint, I thought I told you. I'm not going to do tryouts next year."
He'd been thinking about just not showing up, but he thought he at least owed it to the team to tell them ahead of time so they could plan.
Flint's grin was mischievous. "Because you're busy, right? Don't worry. I took care of it."
"Flint, what did you do?"
Marcus Flint simply smirked, and loudly proclaimed, "Everyone, I want you to say 'hello' to your new Quidditch Captain!"
No. No. No, no, no, no, no! Harry kept his screaming internal.
"Snape's agreed to my proposal, see," Flint explained. "I told him you'd be best fit for Quidditch captain, seeing how well you think on your feet. Besides, Ginny needs that Firebolt."
"And I would gladly let her use it, even if I'm not on the team," Harry said. "You don't have to make me captain just for that!"
Harry was almost sure Snape had agreed just to mess with him. He looked at the team's Chasers, the substitute Beaters, and even the Keeper, most of whom were older than him. "Are you all really letting him do this?"
Miles Bletchley, the team's Keeper, whom Harry had barely interacted with, just smirked. "Why not? Flint's got a point."
"Chin up, Potter," Bole said. "Now you get your own room, like Malfoy does."
He had his own room. It was in the depths of the bloody castle and he sincerely doubted it was worse than a single dorm. Still, it seemed he couldn't talk his way out of it. Snape had already agreed, and it was clear the rest of the team had conspired to do this before Flint's announcement.
"You all realize I can't protect you, right?" Harry asked. One of the major benefits of being on the team had been no one got bullied, for fear of Flint. "The rest of Slytherin won't just accept a fourth year became Captain."
"It's not even that big of a difference," Flint assured him. "I became Captain in Fifth. What's one year? And the lads don't really need protecting. At the end of the day, Slytherin wants to win, you know? Harrassing the Quidditch Team is a poor way to go about it."
"Might have to look out for Weasley, though," Bletchley added. "Though, if someone went after her, we'd have her back."
"Right," Flint said, feigning he hadn't thought about that. This was clearly some misguided attempt at getting Harry to come out of his perceived shell and take a leadership role.
Harry held back a sigh. He couldn't possibly quit now. It would have brought his reputation down so hard, even being Heritor of Slytherin might not be enough to save him. Silently, Harry vowed to curse Flint someday.
"You can count on me, then," he said. "Thanks for the opportunity."
Dumbledore's office had become a familiar sight to him, he realized, over the years. It seemed he couldn't go a schoolyear without seeing it. He was seated on a conjured couch, with Sirius on an opposite, mismatched one.
Harry's smile was practiced, easy, and in total denial that Flint had just shackled him to Quidditch for at least another year. "Congratulations, Lord Black."
Sirius scoffed, and waved a hand. "I told you to call me Sirius, and thank you."
"If you say so, Sirius," Harry responded, then turned to Dumbledore. "Thank you for believing in him."
"It was the least I could do," the headmaster answered. "After failing him the first time."
"I can't say it's water under the bridge," Sirius said, smiling softly. "But it's a start."
"You wanted to talk to me about something?" Harry asked.
"Er, yeah," Sirius began. "I don't know if you know this, but I'm your legal guardian."
"I'm aware," Harry answered. "What of it?"
Sirius flinched, and Harry realized he could have worded that better. Oh well. Too late now.
"Uh, just, I hear you've been living with the Bones during the summer," Sirius said. "And, well, I-"
"Do you have a place?" Harry asked, helping him out. He liked where this was going. Sirius was surely less law-abiding than Amelia. He could definitely get away with a few things at Sirius'.
"I do, but, uh," Sirius said, scratching the back of his head. "It's gonna need some cleaning up, but when it's done, you can move in, if that's something you would want."
His smile grew a little. "I would love to, but I'm afraid my residential situation is a little complicated."
Sirius' face fell. Did people really think this man with zero subtetly could have served as a double agent for the Dark Lord? "Oh, of course. I guess you'd want to spend the summer with your sister and all."
"It's a little more complicated than that," Harry said, gesturing to Dumbledore.
The headmaster explained the situation of Harry's blood protection, and why he needed to stay with the Dursleys. Harry then explained the Greengrasses had invited him over to their manor for the summer, which was an oversimplification, but not necessarily untrue.
"Heh, I knew you were an overachiever, but boys your age should be taking a break during summer," Sirius said, not unkindly.
"The enemy doesn't take summer breaks, and neither do I," Harry said. Well, he assumed, anyway. Maybe the Death Eaters got together to visit Hawaii every summer. He wouldn't know. "I definitely wouldn't mind visiting your place, though."
His godfather's face brightened. "Really? I'd like that."
Tracey
"You're really leaving, Remus?" Willow asked.
Tracey had accompanied Willow and Sue to say goodbye in Lupin's office after hearing he would be stepping down as Defense Professor. They each occupied a chair across from Lupin's desk, with Willow in the middle, Susan on her left, and Tracey on her right.
"I am," Lupin answered, trying to look cheerful, but he wasn't fooling anyone.
"You don't have to leave because of what you are," Tracey said.
Lupin's eyes widened. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
Tracey smiled. "You don't have to hide. The three of us know."
Lupin quickly looked at Willow.
"She didn't tell me," Tracey said quickly. "I recognized the Wolfsbane Potion. My mother takes it."
A look of realization appeared on Lupin's face. "But your mother is a-"
"A full vampire, yes," Tracey finished for him. "She was bitten by a werewolf after turning, and it made her deathly ill."
"I don't understand," Lupin said. "Shouldn't that make you hate me?"
"You weren't the one who bit my mother," Tracey answered. "Besides, weren't you the one who said we shouldn't hate fine wizards and witches for things beyond their control?"
"I said that?" Lupin asked.
"On the train, when Weasley called me a leech," Tracey reminded him. "If I can go to Hogwarts, you should be allowed to teach."
Lupin looked taken aback. "Thank you, Miss Davis, can I call you Tracey?"
She nodded.
"But I think you're misunderstanding something," Lupin said. "I'm not leaving because a werewolf can't teach at Hogwarts. Very few know about my condition."
"What?" Willow asked. "Then why?"
"I'm leaving because there are some things only I can do, as a werewolf," Lupin answered.
Willow narrowed her eyes. "Is Dumbledore sending you on a mission?"
"You know I can't talk about it," Lupin answered, though he spoke with kindness.
"Why now?" Tracey asked.
"Let's just say a prophecy came to light on the day you kids were attacked by the Dementors," Lupin answered. "I can't say more than that."
"Is it about Voldemort?" Willow asked.
"Willow, don't make this harder than it has to be," Lupin pleaded, which might as well have been a 'yes.'
"Alright," Willow said, trying to smile. "You come back safe, alright, Remus?"
"I don't die that easily," he answered.
Despite herself, Willow stood and leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around the man who had almost been her godfather.
Harry
The last few days of school passed without incident and Harry returned to the Dursleys for his annual exercise in frustration.
Two weeks into summer, he was occupied. Unlike the previous summer, he spent most of his time at Privet Drive, alone in his room, trying to get away with as much experimentation as he could without using his wand. He was drafting plans for incorporating the Kodoku into a potion when the thundering voice of Vernon Dursley broke his concentration.
"Boy!" Vernon's voice squealed from downstairs. Harry frowned. He'd thought he had the Dursleys under control by now. He'd only needed to go one more week without an incident and he would've been back at the Bones' for the rest of the summer.
Opting not to push his luck, Harry rushed downstairs, making sure his Key was around his neck and his wand was in its holster.
I'm right behind you, Nyx said.
"What is it?" Harry asked a furious-looking Vernon, who was pointing at the phone. The receiver was up.
"It's for you," Vernon said. He didn't look happy, but for some reason, he seemed willing to let Harry have this call. It must have been urgent, then.
"Hello?" Harry spoke into the phone.
"Harry," he heard Tracey's voice on the other end. Her voice was flat, monotone.
"Tracey? What's the matter?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call," she answered. "It's my dad."
Harry didn't like where this was going. "What about him?"
"He's dead, Harry."
Notes:
1.) Thank you for reading this far! I apologize for the huge delay. Personal life problems and all that, but they're more or less better now.
2.) I regret to say Goblet will probably be coming either early next year or end of this year, depending on how much progress I make on my novel. Rest assured, I plan to finish this series at some point. Whether I wind up succeeding as an author or not, writing this fic gave me the confidence to keep chasing my dream, and no matter what happens, I would like this series to serve as a sort of proof of my existence.
3.) You've probably put together at least some of my plans for this series by now, based on the information you have, but there are definitely more twists in store.
4.) Thanks to the people who were patient with Harry's development, by the way. I know his rise to power has been kind of a slow burn, but we're in full swing now and while I will maintain he's still no match for grown wizards, the stars are now right for him to emerge from the murky depths.
5.) Also, given the long-ass delay between this and Goblet, you can go follow me @RavenReverse on twitter and I'll try to keep people updated.
6.) I realize that some details might have been forgotten now because of the long delay between when I uploaded this story and when I actually finished it, so if anyone is unclear on something and it's not a spoiler for the next book, leave a comment and I'll gladly clarify things for you. Again, this is my fault for there being such a long delay. I apologize and hope you can bear with me.
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