The Silver Trio and the Flight of Truth

by poteatthegeek

Summary:

Harry escapes the Dursleys early, and spends a summer relishing time in the wixen world with his favorite people.
But nothing can stay calm for long, as he's grudgingly come to accept.
Year Three seems to be going just as well as the previous two- a mystery no one asked for, too many politics for children to have to deal with, and trouble stemming from Harry's inability to ignore an animal.
At least this year the animal seems like just an ordinary dog...

Notes:

okay, year 3 is... mostly finished.
but if i don't start posting now, i'll never get around to it.
it may be a slow start, but i'll be posting updates every friday, and things will get interesting once they're back at school.
as usual, comments and kudos are much appreciated! it's insane that what started out as some random idea is growing like this...
i'm so sorry the wait was so long, i can only hope it's worth it!
hope, love, and fairy dust, and all that rot.
enjoy! :)

Chapter 1: Letters and Missives

Summary:

Just one night in Harry's forced isolation at the Dursley residence.
Letters to and from friends and allies.
Safe in the haven he built for himself in Durzkaban.
Only a few days in, and his patience is already running thin...

Notes:

okay i know this chapter is short af, but i just needed to start posting before i got distracted again
an amuse bouche if you will, to what year three has in store.
see you all on friday for chapter 2!

A flash of white interrupted the seemingly infinite night sky as a rush of air came from the open window of the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive.

The cold wind caused by a flutter of wings crept across the room, slightly shifting the various papers strewn over nearly every flat surface. One piece fully lifted from the ragged, secondhand nightstand and floated across the bed to the small desk, landing on warm brown skin.

He inhaled sharply, hand coming up to bat uselessly at the parchment resting on his face.

With a groan, Hadrian James Potter’s brilliant green eyes opened and the near thirteen year old Heir sat up, a letter from his lawyer falling back onto the missive-filled desk he had fallen asleep at. 

He had to have used over three full pens in the past few days, writing letters to his friends about summer plans, to his allies about upcoming politics, scribbling notes in the margins of textbooks, making a list of goals for the school year. 

He knew that his friends were trying to mitigate his mood, trying to keep his spirits up for his week in hell. If he had to guess, Hermione hadn’t even stopped to unpack before she sent a letter with the owl she had rented for the summer from Diagon.

He could fill a book with the correspondence he’s written and received, only four days into summer holiday. He was only grateful that Gerard Flint didn’t charge him per letter.

Between getting your place among the Wizengamot and figuring out this mess with Lord Black, your bill might just end up paying for the new remodeled kitchen my wife wants. You really do have quite the little network of researchers among your friends, Hadrian. Amelia Bones is in my office right now with her niece, and they’re both grinning like Kneasles that caught a Golden Snidget. And don’t get me started on the whirlwind of an aunt you made your proxy.

He blinked wearily down, shifting through the reams of parchment that made it to his desk, rather than falling to the wayside and joining the piles of thoughts that had been pushed to the back of his mind and the floor.

Oh, Hadrian, if only I could see you run through these streets like the neighborhood children. Like your father did, with that friend of his, Sirius. They would beg the local mothers for fresh naan, play football using market carts as goalposts. Just like all children, they were the light of this village, adored by all who would watch them run barefoot under the Indian sun. As soon as you’re able, you’ll have to come visit. You mentioned Quidditch-you haven’t experienced flying until you’ve done it on a flying carpet…

He stretched his arms over his head, attempting to get blood flow back through his body from his awkward position sleeping. Not that his bed at Number Four was comfortable; he was probably better off nodding off at his desk every night.

He missed his bed in the Slytherin dorms.

He’d even prefer a kip on a couch in the Nook.

Merlin, even falling asleep in the library on an open book.

Library-he should stop by the local muggle one and visit Ms. Groller.

Hey Harry!

Cousin Anthony told me that you were starting on research for a possible publication-that’s rad! My grandfather would love to meet you, if I manage to visit the Isles while you’re at school, I’ll beg him to bring me over to see you in person. To be a fly on the wall for your conversation…

He nibbled on a stale pastry, hidden in the trunk that had been shoved in front of his door while he was in his room. He couldn’t wait until Dobby was officially transferred to him. While the stasis charm on one section of his trunk worked wonders, he’d kill for something warm and homemade. Maybe he’d write to Narcissa. Or her son. Writing to Draco was probably the best way to get Lucius to uphold his end of the deal, as eager as the Malfoy heir was to prove his regret to his cousin.

I will not yet attempt to apologize for my behavior last year, as I know you prefer to hold your… friends to the standard of their actions and not their words. But I write to you, cousin, with information I overheard from one of my father’s meetings on the Board of Directors. The new Defense Professor will be Remus Lupin.

The house was quiet around him, the Dursleys having gone to bed hours before. The week had been quiet. Vernon and Dudley were ignoring him, and Petunia only sniffed at him when he emerged from his room to wash his things or bring his garbage out. The unspoken truce was in full effect, as long as he kept to himself, and utilized the food he had stashed away, he would be left alone, and so would they.

He had four more years of playing house in Privet Drive. Of going from a near celebrity status to near nothing. Maybe sooner, if Gerard could find some loophole in the inheritance laws. 

Or if Millicent Bulstrode could.

Maybe even Augusta Longbottom.

This mindhealer is more exhausting than Riddle himself, I swear. But I think I can actually breathe easier, now. After a breakthrough that almost put me in a break down, that is. 

Anyways, Gran wants to go to Morocco, but… call me selfish, but I’d rather just hang around London, and meet up with the other Heralds. My mindhealer says I need positive reinforcements from my peers, and that doing it before school starts will allow for an easier transition. I don’t understand half of what she says, but if it helps me convince Gran that maybe Morocco could happen next year…

Harry rubbed a hand through his hair, sighing as he picked up a ballpoint pen, turning back to his very reluctant letter to the sycophant leading his country. Hermione owed him so much for this.

Okay, no. He’d do this favor and still owe her a lot of favors.

Minister Fudge, it will be an honor to meet you for tea. Between my proxy on the Wizengamot and my friendship with the Bones family, I feel like I have heard so much about your dedication to the British Wix community, and would love to ask you a few questions. As the last of the Potters, I’m sure you understand my hope to do my family name justice, and learning from the Minister himself would be a fantastic way to start. Especially after you went through all the trouble of making sure Rubeus Hagrid, friend of House Potter, was exonerated of the crimes laid at his feet during his school days.

Four days, and already his summer was doomed to be a myriad of politics, unpleasant conversations, and studying.

Hermione was apparently vibrating with excitement for their pre-class Ancient Runes assignment, and had already written Fred six letters, each containing a separate idea.

George and Ron were just thankful she hadn’t turned to one of them as her target, according to Percy’s most recent postscript, one with notes from his brothers tacked on, much to the prefect’s reluctance.

Percy himself, however, was just terrified that he was going to fail his NEWTs, and was on the verge of asking Hermione to write both him and Penelope a study guide.

Harry was honestly jealous.

Harry was bored out of his mind, already having finished his regular holiday work, working on the melodic patterns of Hindi for practice with the Patil twins, and attempting to learn the piles of scrolls his Aunt Andi had sent for him to become a ‘true heir’ of the wixen world.

(He was playing along with the ‘true heir’ idea for now, but as soon as he was actually in a position of power, he was going to do the same thing he did in Slytherin.

Turn everything on its head.)

I am your tool in this, Heir Potter-Black. If you wish for the information to be spread concerning your… ‘adventures’ the last two years, I can facilitate that, both before and after Bulstrode finishes her research. The name Avery carries some weight, and I will endeavor to use it in honor of your own.

But do I have to work with the Twin Terrors of all people?

A soft chirp from the window drew his attention, and his face lit up at the sight of the owl perched in the sawed-off space between the bars that still framed the window.

“Anything new, girl?”

Hedwig cooed as she hopped from the window sill to the perch in her thankfully open cage, one leg outstretched. 

Harry stood, nearly tripping over a stack of textbooks as his blood redistributed itself back to his legs, and moved to take yet another letter.

“Blimey, I’m turning into Dora,” he muttered as he pulled at the string holding the paper rolled up.

He began to pace around the small room, stepping over piles of books and parchment, over notepads and thrown pens, cursing in Hindi under his breath as he went.

Past the trunk that held enough food to feed him until the Grangers stormed Privet Drive, stashed carefully his last few days at Hogwarts. 

Past the gifted practice snitch Marcus Flint had pressed in his hand on the platform a few days prior, only used when the door and window were firmly closed.

Past a Slytherin banner tacked to the hole-covered wall with already-broken quills.

Past the wall full of photos and notes he had tacked up to remind himself that there was a world beyond this room, a world that was filled with people who cared for him.

People who went out of their way to ask after him, to check in.

People who wouldn’t ignore him just for existing.

Listen, sprog, I get that Nott’s little cousin has cooler books than Flourish & Blotts. But if you don’t come and see me this summer, I will have no choice but to tackle you at the most inconvenient times in the halls of Hogwarts under the guise of visiting Terrence. Not even Snape would be able to stop me. I was Head Girl. I know the secret passages not even Fred and George have found.

Not that he minded being ignored, not from the Dursleys. They had come to an understanding, and he was loath to even attempt to break it.

He’d have to, however.

Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.

He was going to have to be clever to get it signed. Vernon would lord it over his head until he left, and it was a coin flip as to whether he would actually do it.

Luckily for him, he’d spent the last two years in an environment teaching him exactly how to be the right kind of clever.

Which is why he’d be asking his aunt to sign it.

He took a breath, falling into the beginning stages of Occlumency. 

Away from the muggle world, over a vast stretch of green. The sound of a bat against a screaming ball. Balancing his entire world with just a shift of his knee.

Harry loosened his grip on the latest letter from Hedwig, and unrolled the parchment. Scanning through the message from one of his first friends, unable to help the smile as he caught up on the first few days of Weasley antics by someone other than Percy. Ron’s anecdotes were lively, and not seen through the lens of an annoyed, studious older brother who just wanted peace to read and write his girlfriend.

There’s this lottery thing at the Ministry that Dad’s entering…

Notes:

poteatthegeek everywhere you can find
thanks for taking the four minutes it'll take to read this super short chapter
see you next week! :)
(welcome back!)

Chapter 2: Another Aunt, Another Argument

Summary:

Another Dursley? Surely this ends well...
Includes a more than welcome escape and spending time in the muggle world with actual enjoyable company.
Because some wixen belong to both worlds, and that's okay too.

Notes:

look! look! another chapter right on time!!!!
and it's a decent length!
yay!
(now things get interesting...)
((also if the movie release date in this chapter is off, just ignore it, i think it's close enough to make that dream come true))
:)

It was only luck (or the lack thereof, maybe) that Harry even knew it was happening. 

He honestly didn’t know if he’d rather have been surprised.

Wandering back to his room after a visit to the librarian that had always given him a safe space in Surrey, he heard a sentence from the living room that stopped him cold.

“Well, Marge’s train will get in right before lunch, so I’ll be sure to make us something spectacular tomorrow.”

“That sounds wonderful, pet.”

Harry froze, one foot on the staircase, weighing his options.

Unfortunately, his curiosity had a habit of winning more often than was considered healthy.

He appeared at the doorway.

“Marge?” He ignored his aunt’s surprised squeak as he stared at his uncle. “She’s coming here? Tomorrow?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy. We don’t have to tell you anything. She’ll be here, in the guest room as usual, and you’ll mind your manners and your tongue.”

“I make no promises unless she does as well.”

Vernon stood, fist curling into his side. “We keep you here, out of the kindness of our hearts-”

“Don’t even start with that shite, like you had a choice-”

“We could have lobbed you off at some orphanage, but we’ve fed and clothed you for a decade-”

“Barely, you did the very least you could, castoffs and dinner scraps-”

Harry was finally cut off when a hand wrapped around his throat, picking him up until his toes barely brushed the carpet under him.

He guessed Hogwarts made him a little too brash, used to the need to push a little too far.

A little too Gryffindor.

His common sense filtered back in just as the breath left his lungs.

“I thought I told you to watch your tongue.” Vernon’s spittle nearly had Harry flinch as it sprayed across his face.

Harry simply nodded as much as he could with a hand directly under his jaw.

Vernon scoffed and released him, Harry missing his landing and ending up coughing on the floor.

He couldn’t help a quick glance to Petunia, who wouldn’t meet his eyes, fussing with some scrap of fabric in her lap.

Coward.

Harry looked up at Vernon. “Fine. I’ll make myself scarce as much as possible.”

“You’ll be there for dinner. I won’t have her asking questions. And if she asks about school, you’re over at St. Brutus’s.”

“St. Brutus’s School for Criminal Boys? You cannot be serious.” 

Harry swallowed his ire when Vernon turned a furious eye towards him. 

“We had to tell her something. And unless you want another summer like last year, you’ll follow what I say.” 

Harry’s jaw worked back and forth, eyes darting between his uncle’s reddening face and clenched fist. “Fine. But once the week is up, I’m gone. I don’t care if she believes whatever story we tell her.” 

“You think we care if you leave? Good riddance.” 

“Really feeling the love, Uncle,” Harry muttered, slinking out of the room and up the stairs before anything else could be said. 

 

Harry had almost forgotten how… vile Margorie Dursley was.

Built just like her brother, with the same disregard for any semblance of respect for herself or others. 

Heavy hand with a bottle, heavier hand with racist remarks, especially when it came to her brother’s mixed nephew.

The vicious dog that trotted at her heels was always an added bonus to Dudley’s yearly Harry Hunting games.

The sneer she wore as soon as she saw him would rival Lucius Malfoy’s.

She, however, had much, much less influence on his life than his wix ‘uncle’.

Harry simply smiled as he tugged her suitcase up the stairs to the guest bedroom before disappearing back into his own.

 

Dinner that night was a lively affair.

Dudley had his second television on in the dining room, some comedy show murmuring in the background as the adults caught up.

Harry just practiced his Occlumency, trying to get to the level of only paying enough attention to the conversation to know when he was being addressed.

He still needed to practice that.

Which was probably why he didn’t realize Marge was talking about him until she smacked the back of his head. 

“I’m talking to you, boy! Get me a glass of wine!”

He stood, not even looking at her as he ducked back into the kitchen.

“Is he losing his hearing, or just his brains?” Marge cackled. “Always thought you should have just dropped him off at an orphanage, Vernon. No good will come of having that one in your house.”

Harry took the second alone to take a deep breath.

Just three more days.

“Just look at his mother. No offense, Petunia, but to turn away from a good family and run away with an Indian. It’s just like my dogs. If there’s a problem with the bitch, there’s a problem with the pup.” She gestured to the bulldog in the corner, one struggling to take a breath as it stared at the food on the table.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry couldn’t help a whispered retort. “I’m extremely glad I’ve never met your mother, then, she must be something else.”

Only Petunia seemed to even slightly hear, and the glare he received was enough for him to lock eyes with the carpet once more as he poured wine into a glass in front of Marge.

“Do they beat you at St. Brutus’s, boy?”

Harry glanced at Vernon, who tried to be subtle with the raising of his bushy eyebrows.

“Uh, yes. Ma’am. I still have the bruises from the last round.”

She stared at him, as he righted the wine bottle and settled back in his seat, the picture of pureblood elegance.

“Maybe not enough, if you can say it without wincing.”

Harry tensed. “Maybe not, ma’am.”

“Maybe we’ll have to fix that while I’m here.”

“As pleasant as that sounds, unfortunately I won’t be able to be here your entire visit, Aunt Marge.” 

She turned a raised eyebrow towards him. Vernon inhaled, taking up more room than Harry thought possible as his chest expanded. 

“And why’s that? Police already searching for you? Not that you’ll be hard to find, skin like that in a decent neighborhood like this.” 

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. “A special program. They take a few of us to London proper for a few weeks in the summer, give us jobs to work.” 

She hummed. “Maybe this school was a good idea, Vernon.”

Harry bit back the first remark that came to mind.

And the second.

And the third.

Cold breeze. Broom under him, fluttering of a snitch in his ear.

Bland smile, clear eyes, calm mind.

“I do still need you to sign this form, Aunt Petunia. Just a permission form for the trip.” He pulled the Hogsmeade form from the pocket of the massive hoodie Dudley had grown tired of that winter.

The woman tittered as all the eyes in the room slid to her. 

For as much as she loved to hear the gossip of the neighborhood, as much as she turned her eyes over fences and through windows, she abhorred being the center of attention.

“Surely this can wait, boy. We’re about to settle for the evening.”

As she spoke, the three adults stood, Vernon leading the way towards the parlor.

Harry followed.

“Well, I’ve got it right here. It needs to be… mailed within the next day or so. Just thought we could get it out of the way.”

“I’m not sure-”

“Oh, just sign the damned thing, Petunia, and let’s break out the sherry to go with this tea.” 

Harry slammed his mask down over any trace of glee at Marge’s interruption, not even looking back as she collapsed on the groaning couch. 

Always trust a Dursley to cut through any Slytherin subtlety to get to an evening's repose. 

“Oh, fine, hand it here.”

Harry nodded, unrolling the form. Petunia’s eyes flickered towards Marge, lips twisting in distaste at the sight of the parchment.

She scribbled a signature out quickly, rolling it back up before her sister-in-law stopped being distracted by the soap opera on the television. 

“There. Now go on, to your room. A nightcap is no place for children.”

Harry simply nodded his thanks and disappeared up the stairs, barely making a sound as he went.

 

Yet again, he was waiting for the house to clear with an eye on the receiver in the corridor.

This year, however, he was playing nice.

Mostly.

He waited until Vernon and Dudley were out with Marge, and Petunia was about to walk out the door for tea with an old school friend.

(He had learned from the best how to hear things without being heard. Pansy was going to be thrilled on how he was using her lessons.)

He came down the stairs, sure to make noise so as to not alarm her.

“Aunt Petunia?”

She stopped, turning back slightly with a dismissive hum.

“May I use the phone, please?”

He ignored the sneer and gave her a winning, innocent smile.

“Why?”

“I need to finalize the plan for my leaving at the end of the week.”

“With someone who knows how to use a telephone?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia. I have many friends who come from… similar backgrounds.”

Petunia huffed. “Make it quick, don’t break anything, and don’t tell Vernon.”

He waited until she had left, the door latching closed, before he dialed quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mr. Granger, it’s Harry. Is Hermione around?”

“Harry! Of course, she’s just reading out in the garden. Give me a mo’. And please, you know to call me Dan.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

He heard the squeal growing ever louder as Hermione raced for the phone. “Harry! I thought you were going to be letters only this week? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Breathe, Mione. I’m fine. For now, at least. Vernon’s lump of a sister is here, and I swear she can get under my skin faster than a blood boiling curse. Just calling to double check that you’ll be here Friday evening.”

“Yep! They limited their hours at the office to spend more time with us. Papa’s already made sure to print the directions to your aunt’s out. I think he’s excited about having a boy around the house, even if it’s just for a few days. It’ll distract him from Mama’s repacking. They’re thinking of America for the summer. They’re going to be quite busy, but they’re set on seeing New York.”

Harry closed his eyes, listening to his best friend’s voice. “I swear, Hermione, if you meet Rolf before I do, I will never forgive you.”

Her peal of laughter lifted even more weight from his shoulders. “I don’t even know if I want to go. It’s mainly to go to this maxillofacial conference, they won’t even really have time to go to any of the museums. I’d probably be bored, and I can’t bring enough books to tide me over. The tickets are for three weeks from now, so Mama says I have time to decide. I might pull a you and see if Tom will let me a room for a while.”

“I’m sure he will. There’s some international conference at the end of the summer, but Hannah said Tom would make sure to put a room aside for me if I needed. I’m sure if we ask, he’ll do the same for you.”

“It would be fun, I think. Spending the summer at the Alley, exploring. You always seem like you have the time of your life, there.”

“Don’t even front, Mione. You know you’ll be owling Millie and Theo to go spend days at the public library with you.”

He could almost feel her eyes roll over the line. “Shut it. It’d be for research for whatever is on your to-do list anyways.”

“At least half of my to-do list is spurred by whatever you are interested in for your coup.”

“And I thank you for your service.” Her giggle made him fight back a smile.

“Of course, my liege.” He leaned against the wall, letting a comfortable silence fall between them before sighing. “I should go. My aunt didn’t want me on long.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighed again. “I’ll be okay enough to last until Friday.”

 

He spoke too soon.

 

He knew he was about to blow. 

Two summers with Garrick helping him find his center, to control his magic, and he knew when it was bubbling just below the surface. 

But staring down two whales with matching sneers, he didn’t care. He was mostly certain that between Amelia Bones, Gerard, and his current sway with the Minister, whatever was about to happen could pretty easily be swept under the rug. 

His hands were shaking. 

His shoulders were shaking. 

Marge was raising a hand to shake a finger at him. 

They both took a breath.

The air was electric around him.

The doorbell rang.

It was as if a vacuum had sucked the tension and the air out of the room. 

Harry gasped, feeling the magic in his clenched fist dissipate.

Petunia inhaled sharply before standing, righting her plain skirt. “Outrageous, someone coming round at this time of night.” 

Harry blinked. 

It was Friday.

He turned on his heel, ignoring Marge’s furious comment about dark skins and short tempers.

He almost cried when he saw the lithe form of Daniel Granger adjusting his three piece suit in the doorway, a bushel of hair peeking around his elbow.

“Can I help you?” Petunia fussed with her skirt once more, suddenly flustered in front of a very well-put together stranger. “We aren’t interested in buying anything.”

“Nor am I. In fact, I’m here to take something off your hands.” Dan motioned Harry forward, dusting off the boy’s shoulders as he gave him a soft smile. “Son, you alright? Are you ready to go?”

“A few things left to pack upstairs, it should only take a moment.”

The man looked around the entryway, eyes alighting on the other Dursleys lurking further down the hall. His expression soured. “Make it quick. I don’t wish to linger here. The three of us have much better things to do.”

Harry nodded. “Of course, Dan, I’ll be right back.”

“Take Hermione.” Dan nodded at his daughter, who grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him up the stairs. 

As soon as they had the door to Harry’s room closed, Hermione shuddered. 

“Morgana, Harry, I’m not even magic sensitive and I could still feel that. Isn’t Mr. Ollivander supposed to be teaching you to control your magic? Or Occlumency, at the very least.”

“I’ve been working on it!” Harry didn’t look up as he shoved papers into his satchel, quickly clearing his desk without a care as to the order.

He just wanted to leave.

Hermione waited until he glanced up, and gave him a skeptical look.

Harry blushed, reaching up to scratch his nose. “Yeah, it’s been a long week. If you two hadn’t shown up…”

She leaped forward to wrap him in a hug. “I’ll always show up for you.”

As she pulled back, Hermione looked around the room, eyes catching on the bars, on the catflap, on the various padlocks along the length of the door. “Well, if I had any doubts before, I certainly don’t now.” 

“Doubts that I’m living the dream here at number four?” He grinned, arms flung out. 

“No, you idiot. Doubts that Dumbledore is a blind fool and isn’t worthy of leading anyone.”

Harry shrugged. “Now we just gotta convince everyone else that.” He turned away, reaching for papers tacked up along the walls.. “Alright, Hedwig. I’m off to the Grangers, but it might be best if you make yourself scarce a few days. I’ll be at the Leaky soon, but maybe go to the Burrow for a while.”

The bird chirped and disappeared out the window.

“Can you shrink it?” Hermione nodded towards the haphazard trunk near the door.

“Nah, Jacob’s da said to be careful of doing it in Muggle spaces, and with Marge here, I don’t want to risk it. Even tapping the shrinking charm gives off magic that might get flagged. It’s got an everlight charm on it, though. Shouldn’t be hard to get down the stairs.” He grabbed the desk attachment from the mattress and put it back in its place.

Hermione hummed as she grabbed one end. “Maybe that could be our Runes project. Minimizing the magic needed to enact passive charms.”

Harry grinned. “Ron’ll be thrilled we’ve got it planned.”

Together they hauled the trunk down the stairs, back down to where Dan was tapping his foot, ignoring Petunia’s attempts to glean the slightest goodwill.

Vernon had finally squeezed through the door to the hallway, arm around his wife with a forced smile.

“Well, sir, I do hope you’ll reconsider. Petunia and I would love to have you and your wife over, let the kiddos catch up next summer.”

“I don’t see why. The… kiddos can catch up just fine at our house. My wife and I own and run a very prestigious dental practice, we don’t have time for inane social calls, Mr. Dursley. Harry is like a son to us, he’s more than welcome to come over whenever.”

Hermione knocked her shoulder against Harry’s as she stood in front of him, blocking him from direct eyeline to Vernon.

Not, however, blocking her own glare.

Harry bit back a smirk as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Hermione, stop staring at my uncle like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re trying to set the man on fire silently and wandlessly.” 

“Emphasis on trying.” 

“I know, but I’m worried that will change to successfully just through pure spite.”

She snickered, earning a slight glare from her father. 

“Come along now, children. We have things to do that don’t require staying in the prolonged presence of… people like this. Harry, are you all set? I don’t foresee myself allowing you to return here.” 

“I’m ready, Dan.”

“Marvelous. We’ve got the guest suite set up for you. I guarantee you’ll find it much more agreeable than any facilities offered here.”

The three turned to leave, and Harry and Hermione barely made it behind the closed car door before bursting into laughter.

“Blimey, Dan, you sounded like a ponce! Mione, are you sure you’re not related to Draco? I could have closed my eyes and it easily could have been a Malfoy speaking.”

Dan grinned sheepishly as Hermione smacked Harry’s arm. “I’ve been watching a lot of Austen adaptations. Too much?”

The kids laughed as he pulled the sparkling black town car out of the drive and towards the Granger home.

 

The next morning, Harry stretched, and relished in not being able to touch the edge of the bed he was in as he did so.

Over his head, the open window let in a cool breeze, heavy with the scent of hazelnut from the tree right outside. Sunlight barely peeked through the slight cloud cover, alerting Harry to the fact he had actually slept into midmorning outside of injury for the first time since he could remember.

The sound of clattering in the kitchen downstairs made him grin.

Dan and Emma had promised a full English that he would have no part in making.

He considered falling back asleep, basking in the comfort of the mattress, the quilt, even the perfect firmness of the pillow.

A chirp above him had him grinning for a different reason.

“Hedwig, I told you to lay low.” He pulled himself out of his cocoon, onto his knees so he could reach his friend more easily. 

The owl ruffled her wings as she stuck out a leg, adorned with a scrap roll of parchment. Harry grabbed it, running his hand along her feathers as he did.

“Thanks, love. I don’t have any treats, but if you stick around, I’ll bring you up something from breakfast before I send you off.”

She chirped again before clearly settling on the sill. 

Harry unfurled the paper, scanning it quickly, before laughing and tumbling out of bed.

The door across the hall was cracked open, and Harry pushed it open with a shoulder as he padded across the carpet. 

A shriek exploded from under the quilt as Harry dove towards the lump on the bed.

He cackled when a bush of curly hair emerged, followed by glaring eyes.

“Hadrian James, you’re lucky I don’t keep my wand out during the holidays!”

“C’mon, Mione,” Harry whined, “there’s a bright world out here! Time to wake up!”

She dragged a single arm from under the quilt to push at him. “Shove off, Potter. It’s not even time for breakfast.”

“If your da doesn’t call for us in the next five minutes, I’ll go back to the Dursleys.”

“That’s not funny, not even a little. Why are you jumping on my bed?”

Harry twisted around, landing on his back next to her as she sat up a little straighter. “Ron wrote.” He handed the letter over.

Hey, I may have accidentally told my mum that the Grangers were going to America, and that you two were going to spend the summer at the Leaky.

Blame Fred, Mione, he’s the one who told me. Something about being glad you weren’t ditching our Runes project. Which I didn’t know we even started, so why does he know more than I do?

Anyways.

Mum talked to Dad, and next thing I know, they’re telling me to ask if you want to come to Egypt.

Oh, did I mention? Dad won the Grand Prize Galleon Draw. We’re going to see Bill! Hence Egypt. You’ll come, yeah?

Yes, I know this means I’ll be dragged around to any and all educational shite that exists within walking distance. But it means a summer of hanging out with my best friends, so I’ll take it.

Write back when you can so Mum and Dad can add you to the portkey. Please come. We’ll leave in just under two weeks, so you’ll still get to make your rounds on the Alley, Harry.

Talk soon,

Ron

Hermione looked up, biting her lip.

“Well?” Harry gave her a grin. “Fancy exploring some pyramids?”

She shoved her quilt away to the floor, laughing. 

She laughed even harder when it was accompanied by Harry, landing with a thud. Peering over the edge of her mattress, she shot him a sweet smile. “Let’s go ask!”

He just groaned.

 

It was surprisingly easy to convince the Granger parents. Dan had just told them to take lots of pictures, especially if the magical community there was as different as the muggle community was. 

Emma patted Hermione’s shoulder with an indulgent smile. “Be nice to your wixen parents, dear.”

Hermione blushed, dark skin coloring as Harry bit back a smirk. 

She leaned over to hiss in his ear. “You’re even worse, Hadrian, don’t even start. You’ve been calling Molly ‘Mum’ since Yule.”

“Shut it,” he responded, swatting at her. 

“Didn’t you say you were going to actually say it to her face? Now’s the time. Family vacation.”

“You used to be so nice, Mione, what happened?”

“Since when, Potter?”

Their spat was interrupted by the clank of plates in front of them. “Kids, no squabbles at the breakfast table.”

Harry looked up with an innocent smile. “Course not, Dan. Just planning on what to pack.”

The man hummed and moved away.

 

It was a near-perfect week at the Grangers. 

Dan was, in fact, thrilled to have a boy in the house, and introduced Harry to professional football as they watched Chelsea F.C. battle various teams. He came home from work one day to hand Harry a jersey for one of the defenders on the team, Andy Myers. 

Harry threw it on immediately, grinning as he looked at himself in it. “It’s huge on me, Dan.”

“Room to grow. Next season, I’ll take you to a live game, maybe we can get it signed.”

There were also regular visits into London proper; the Grangers had taken most of the week off before their trip to spend with the kids and didn’t mind heading into the city.

Harry and Hermione both had spent what would normally be considered far too much money at a Waterstones, both grateful for their extendable and featherlight charmed bags. 

They also took Harry to his first movie, towards the end of the week.

(None of the Grangers were going to dwell on the fact it was his first film.)

Hermione groaned when she saw the movie poster. “Mama, this is going to end so poorly.”

Emma laughed. “I thought he’d enjoy it!”

“Oh, he’ll love it, but if this ends with a science experiment, I’ll never forgive any of you.”

A confused Harry followed the Grangers into the theater, his worried eyes skating over the title Jurassic Park.

(Three hours later saw them back at a bookstore, both to pick up Harry’s new copy of the novel and to collect a variety of biology and forensic books. Hermione rolled her eyes more than was probably healthy, but that didn’t stop her from adding a few books to Harry’s pile.)

The only downside to the week outside of London was that they were missing Ron. After the third letter back to the Burrow from an eager Hedwig, Emma shared a look with Dan and rubbed Harry’s shoulder.

“Maybe next summer you all can spend some time here, and then head over to the Burrow. I’m sure Ron would enjoy learning about our London.”

The wide grin Hermione gave her parents had them hiding laughter. 

But that night, when Hermione snuck into Harry’s room with a mug of hot chocolate like she had every night, she leaned into him with a whisper that barely carried throughout the quiet house. 

“They wanted more kids. But apparently when I was born, there were… complications. They had a few miscarriages before they saw a specialist. And Mama was told that it was likely she’d never be able to carry to full term again.” She sighed, tucking herself under Harry’s arm. “I never had good friends, even as I was younger. This is the first time I’ve had friends I even wanted to invite over. They don’t even care that you’re boys. They just love having a full house.”

Harry played with a stray curl as he sipped at his drink. “I think the Heralds can help with that. Introduce them properly to the twins, they’ll wish the house was quiet again.”

She laughed softly. “I worry about them, when I leave. What if…” Hermione tilted her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “What if I lose them, Harry?”

He pulled her tightly against him, wrapping his arms around her. “Neither of us will let that happen. Weekly family dinners will be a must, no matter what. Your parents, the Weasleys, the Tonks, maybe even the Malfoys. We’ll host the best dinner parties.”

“Is that even possible? In ten years, when we’re stooges for the Ministry and barely able to afford rent, how are we going to make time for them?”

“Mione, I don’t mean to make light of this, but I’ll never be short on rent money. And maybe in ten years we’ll just be stooges, but in twenty we’ll be running the Ministry. So we’ll make it normal, that the worlds are a little more merged. We belong to both worlds, Hermione Granger, and if you want to keep it that way, I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

(When Emma looked in to check on Harry an hour later, she sighed at the sight of her teenage daughter curled around a boy. But at the look of comfort on Hermione’s face, she simply pulled out a blanket from the hall closet and tucked it around the two, not bothering to mention it to her husband.)

Notes:

as usual...
poteatthegeek everywhere you can find
comments and kudos much much much appreciated
binging critical role campaign one and writing fanfiction is a geek level i never thought i'd achieve...
enjoy! :)

Chapter 3: Back to Wixen Ways

Summary:

Just a week on the Alley. Neville gets a new wand, the Weasleys host a dinner, and Harry meets his most powerful sycophant.

Notes:

snow on the east coast means i get a half day, which means i can post early!
enjoy! :)

As much as Harry had missed the wixen world, had thought about returning to it, it took him a moment to remember his place within it.

Walking into the Leaky Cauldron, as it was the first time every summer, was like dumping cold water onto his head.

The whole room quieted, all eyes on him. Even Hermione subtly sidestepping in front of him couldn’t stop the shiver of distress that shot up his spine.

“Hadrian!” A flash of blonde was all Harry saw before arms wrapped around his shoulders. He began to tense, but the smell of strawberries had him relaxing into returning the embrace. 

He relaxed even further when he heard Tom scolding various patrons for staring in the background.

“Merlin, Hannah, give a bloke some warning.”

She giggled, pulling away. “Sorry! I know it’s barely been two weeks, but it’s so good to see you. Oh! Hermione!” 

The Hufflepuff turned and launched herself at the other girl with just as much enthusiasm. 

“Hi, Hannah.” 

“What are you two doing here? Escaping to the Alley already?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry was staying with us, but my parents have business in America for a few weeks, and we didn’t want to be stuck bored in some muggle hotel.”

“So you decided to be bored stuck in this wix hotel?” 

Harry laughed, throwing an arm around Hannah’s shoulders as he pulled her towards the bar. “Only for a few days, Ron’s invited us to vacation in Egypt with the Weasleys. We leave on Friday, but her parents’ flight is tomorrow.”

“Ooh, Egypt? That’ll be fun, bring back souvenirs. And photos.” She ducked out from Harry’s arm, skipping towards the kitchen. “Uncle Tom! Our favorite renter is back!”

The owner came out from the back, grin wide as he wiped his hands on a rag. “Hadrian! You should have owled you were coming, I would have had lunch ready for you. I just put something on, it’ll be a few minutes.”

“Tom, you don’t have to make a special lunch for us, we can eat whatever’s the special for the day,” Harry blustered, rubbing at his nose as he felt his face flush.

“Hush, now, lad, it’s already in the oven. Freya’s got an eye on it, she’ll bring it out soon. You three take a seat and eat up before you set loose on the Alley.”

Before Harry could protest, Hannah was dragging him and Hermione both to what had become Harry’s booth.

“So, Egypt will be exciting. Anything else planned?”

Hermione eyed Hannah with a smirk. “Ron will be here tomorrow.”

Hannah’s mouth fell open, cheeks tinged pink. “I didn’t mean-”

“Uh huh, sure,” Hermione snickered.

Harry looked between the two girls. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

“Nope!” Hannah shoved a hand over Hermione’s opening mouth. “Nothing to know. Oh, look, Susan!”

They looked up to see the Bones Heiress standing with her hands on her hips. “That lawyer of yours, Potter. He’s a piece of work.”

“That’s why he’s my lawyer. Did you and Aunt Amelia have fun scaring him out of his mind?”

Susan broke into a grin. “Of course. Budge up.” She pushed Hadrian into the center of the booth as she pulled out a folder from her bag. “Speaking of pieces of work, where’s Marcus? He usually shows up to lurk when you get here.”

“Quidditch camp with Oliver.”

“They have the weirdest ideas of what a date is.” She shook her head, flipping through a few pages. “So this is the latest we’ve found. Auntie hunted through the backfiles at the Ministry, and Flint put out some questions with people he could trust to stay mum in the Wizengamot.” She pushed a stack towards Hermione, who immediately started to scan. “Nothing came up to suggest a trial even happened.” 

Harry leaned back, whacking his head against the wooden frame behind him. “So they used the chaos of the war to shove the Heir of one of the most prominent Houses in the Isles to Hell on Earth. And condemning me to the muggle version.”

“Do you think they did it on purpose?” Hannah was leaning over Hermione’s shoulder, biting her lip worriedly. “I mean, objectively. He is a Black, a family known to be on the Dark side of things. According to the rumors, he may have betrayed your parents, Hadrian. He may not have had a trial, but…”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Other than his last name, Hannah, was there anything to suggest he’d betray them? He was a Gryffindor. He was best friends with my dad. My grandparents brought him to India with them. That’s a lot to betray.”

She quieted, not looking towards Harry. “Sorry.”

“We… can ask a few other students, maybe someone’s parents knew more,” Susan said, blinking at the sudden change in the atmosphere. “Knew them.”

Hermione looked up from the papers, hand reaching to smooth over Harry’s arm. “Neville’s grandmother might. Since you’re Neville’s godbrother, maybe his parents mentioned something.” Her eyes drifted back. “We’ll have to ask Gerard about the ramifications of not him not having a trial. Surely there’s some precedent. If not, I’m sure there’s something from the muggle world that we can utilize.”

“If I find out Albus let this happen so I would have no choice but to go to Petunia for that stupid blood ward, I will kill him.”

“No death threats in public, please, especially towards arguably the most influential wix in our community.” Hermione’s reprimand was offhand, almost reflex rather than stern.

“You’ve threatened loads of people.”

“Not in public, either to the Heralds or to their face. That’s completely different. Besides, if you actually plan on… well, planning anything, you’d better wait for Ron. He’ll be quite upset if he’s not included.”

“Well, next time he should figure out how to get out of degnoming the garden.”

 

After a delicious lunch served by an indulgent Freya, after Susan had disappeared back through the floo, Hannah had ducked back into the kitchen of the Leaky, and Harry and Hermione had unpacked for their week at the inn.

By the time the clock in the square had chimed three, Harry had been kicked out of the kitchen with a laugh and a spattering of flour, and Hermione had written out a shopping list.

Hermione bussed Harry’s cheek and fled for the nearest bookstore, while Harry leaned up against the wall near the entrance to the Alley proper, eyes scanning for any sign of his afternoon entertainment.

He grinned and waved an arm as he noticed the telltale sign of the Longbottoms-a vulture perched precariously on a wide brim hat. “Gran! Nev!”

His godbrother broke into a smile and a run as he dodged the crowd, going full speed towards Harry. When he barely stopped, picking Harry up in a bear hug, both boys started laughing.

“Boys, please, some decorum. You’re in the middle of the street.”

They pulled apart to give sheepish looks at the woman trailing behind. “Sorry, Gran.”

She looked between them with a wry expression, one that turned indulgent after a moment. “Hadrian, I am entrusting the care of my grandson to you for the afternoon. I have a few errands to run, and I believe it’s finally time for Neville here to get his own wand.”

Neville bit back a smile.

Harry nudged his shoulder.

“Of course, Gran. Neville will be well taken care of.”

“I’ll meet you both for dinner at seven at the Weasley home. Please do not get into trouble, I’d rather not visit the ministry today.”

“If we do, my cousin Dora will be our first floo call, she’s already promised to help things disappear.” Harry grinned.

Augusta couldn’t help but match it. “Considerate of her. Andromeda’s daughter, yes? I do need to stop by and catch up with her. Neville, you have your money bag. Try not to spend your entire inheritance.” Without a second glance, she turned and headed back towards the entrance of the Alley.

The boys swapped smirks. 

“Ollivander’s?” 

Neville nodded. “Just don’t get distracted, Harry, please. I know Mr. Ollivander is a friend of yours, but I’d love to spend some time on the Alley other than his store.”

“What have I ever done to suggest that would happen, brother mine?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” Neville replied, turning towards the wand shop.

Soon, Neville was facing a row of wand boxes, face alight with joy.

Garrick had sidled over to stand with Harry. “He’ll have a steep learning curve. Working with a wand that didn’t choose him, that was meant for a completely different personality? Magic will come too easily to him, now.”

“Like being used to pushing water through a straw and then suddenly having it go through a hose,” Harry replied, nodding along.

The man furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure what either of those words mean, but if it makes sense to you, then the thought still counts.”

Harry snickered before his expression turned thoughtful. “Say, Garrick. The ministry officially cleared Hagrid’s name a few days ago, retracting the expulsion and everything. Why can’t he get another wand? One that’s not snapped.”

“In theory, he can,” Garrick sighed, rubbing at his chin. “However, there is a reason that creatures don’t typically get wands. It’s not just because the Ministry won’t allow it. Ask one of your goblin friends. Creature magic can actually be stifled if they use it through a wand.” 

A few yards away, Neville winced as a fierce wind threw all of the loose papers into the air, tossing the wand in his hand back to its box.

“But Professor Flitwick? He’s a master of Charms and Dueling, surely…” 

“If you ever get the chance, young Harry, go see a goblin dueling championship. You’ll not only get ideas for a variety of creative magical mishaps, but you’ll be so humbled you may hesitate to even pick up another wand.”

Thoughts flew through Harry’s mind at the implications… the opportunities. “I… I could probably talk Griphook into that. His profit margin apparently has flourished so much this past year that he got a pay raise.”

“I wish you luck with that,” Garrick chuckled. “Young Mr. Longbottom, how are you faring?”

Neville looked up with an awed expression. “I think… I think it’s this one. It’s… It feels so warm, like hot cocoa on Yule.”

“Give it a wave, Nev!” Harry leaned against the wall, nodding at the wand.

The other boy stared down at his own hand before brandishing it.

With a gust of warmth, the smell of chocolate frogs overwhelmed the store, and all of the papers from earlier shifted back to their original places.

Harry and Ollivander burst into applause.

“Cherry and unicorn hair. A very loyal wand, capable of great feats of Light magic. You’ll do very well with this, Mr. Longbottom. Very well indeed.”

Neville was smiling throughout the entire transaction, not even looking up until his new wand was snugly attached to his forearm in a holder, which Harry insisted on buying as an early birthday present. They ambled back out of the store with a wave towards Garrick.

“C’mon, I bet Natalie will let us test out that wand of yours in her store, and I want to check on a book she promised to order for me.”

“Natalie?”

“One of Theo’s cousins.”

“She owns a store?”

“Nah, she just runs it. The old man who actually owns it can’t get around too well, and he’s a friend of her da’s. As long as she doesn’t get raided, he lets her do whatever there. Luckily, she likes selling books.”

“Will, uh…” Neville cleared his throat. “Will Theo be there?” 

Harry grinned, poking his godbrother’s red cheeks. “Ooooh! Why do you wanna know?” 

“Shut up, Potter.” He smacked Harry’s hand away. 

“No no, you gotta spill. How’s letter writing been?”

“It’s fine, you dolt. We’ve been discussing the upcoming curriculum for Herbology.”

“Classes?” Harry groaned. “You’re flirting about classes?” 

Neville sputtered. “We’re not flirting!” He shoved a laughing Harry into the next storefront they walked past. “Besides, you’re not one to talk! I’ve seen the way your eyes glaze over, and not in a bored way, when-”

Harry leapt towards Neville in a flash, covering his mouth with a hand and scanning the crowds. “Don’t you dare, if someone overhears even a joke like that none of us will get a moment’s peace.”

Neville smirked behind Harry’s hand, before rolling his eyes and nodding. 

Harry pulled away and sighed. “C’mon, hood up. It’s just around the corner but we shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Wait, Knockturn?”

“It’s the safe part, don’t worry. Besides, Tonks is watching us.” Harry waved to a short blonde man leaning against a nearby wall with a newspaper. The man looked around quickly, before winking and tapping at what had turned into a pig’s snout before reverting back to normal.

Neville gaped as Harry pulled up both of their hoods, ducking through what seemed to be a solid wooden sign post promoting an upcoming concert of the Weird Sisters.

“How’d you know it was her?”

Harry shrugged. “I mean, she told me she’d be here, so I knew to look out for her. After that it’s just getting a feel for her magic.”

Neville shook his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s a ‘only Harry’ thing, mate.”

“Whatever.” Harry ignored the urge to blush, instead waving frantically through the window at Natalie, who stared, unimpressed, back.

Theo leaned out of the door. “Hey, guys. Good to see you both, come on in. Hermione’s about to drive Nat up the wall, it’s rather amusing.”

Neville idled at the door, sharing a soft smile with Theo, who couldn’t keep his eyes from flickering back between his shoes and Neville’s face.

Harry groaned and shoved his godbrother through the door. “Hi Natalie! Did you miss me?” He ignored his friends as he skipped across the store to give the older girl a wide smile.

“Hadrian, can you stop bringing strays into my store? I’m trying to run a business, not a babysitting service.”

“Oh, please. Between Hermione, Neville, and I, we’ll spend enough money to meet your usual monthly profits.”

“And what about my sanity?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t care quite as much about that. Can we use the backroom? Nev just got his new wand, we wanted to try it out.”

“Give me a galleon and sure.” 

He rolled his eyes, but shoved an arm in his bag, pulling a single coin from it a moment later. He flicked it in the air and shoved past the counter. “Mione, you coming?” 

The curls in the corner didn’t shift. “Reading.”

“Okay. Nev, c’mon! You’ve got a wand to try, and I’ve got a spell to test.”

Natalie whipped around. “A galleon does not allow for fire, earthquakes, or anything not covered by the most basic of warranties, Potter!”

Harry waved a hand as he grabbed Neville’s arm, pulling him along. “We’ll leave it just as we found it.”

Neville was exhausted by the time they walked back outside, blinking against the setting sun. Hermione and Theo were chatting about the book under her arm, and Harry had his own arm thrown around Neville’s shoulders.

“Still planning on Morocco? Or did you talk Gran out of it?”

He shrugged. “She wants to get out of the country. Thinks it will do wonders for my health.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure spending a month in a foreign country alone with my grandmother is going to be as healing as she’s hoping.”

Harry snorted. “Well, how about a compromise? Hermione and I were planning on joining the Weasleys in Egypt. Why don’t you and Gran tag along?”

Neville frowned, but Harry kept on.

“It’s not Morocco, but it should be a good time. You’ve said she doesn’t mind Molly, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to get Bill to show us some native plant life.” 

“We wouldn’t want to intrude, it’s a family vacation…” 

“Honestly, I’ll ask Mum, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. If anything, Gran will help distract the twins from doing anything absurd like locking Percy in a crypt or something. I’ll bring it up at dinner, yeah? No pressure, we’ll just throw out the idea. Make some comment about Gran and I getting to know each other better.”

 

Molly and Arthur were thrilled with the idea of having the Longbottoms join their holiday. 

“Oh, Augusta, we insist,” Molly encouraged as she prodded the twins to start clearing the table. “The kids will end up scattered to the winds, and it would be a delight to have another adult around to spend the time with. And of course, Neville will be no issue.”

Augusta sipped her tea. “Well, I suppose it is good that I hadn’t booked our lodgings in Morocco as of yet. I’ll owl tonight and add an additional room to your stay. Perhaps Neville and I can pop over to Morocco to visit my friend at some point, since we’ll be on the continent.”

Neville grinned at her from the other end of the table. “That would be great, Gran!”

She simply hummed noncommittally. “I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you kids go into the lounge? I’ll send some tea in, maybe some biscuits. We’ll plan for the trip.” Molly nodded towards the door, and within a second the table was cleared of all but the adults, who had started to pass a bottle of amber liquid around with their tea.

“When do we get to spike our tea?” George asked forlornly, settling on one end of the couch.

Percy huffed as he hovered at the doorway. “As if the two of you need any excuse to act foolishly.” He turned towards the guests. “Ron, your blasted rat is in my room again, please fetch him before you go to bed. I gave him to you for a reason. Hadrian, Hermione, Neville, I look forward to seeing you all next week. If you’ll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to.”

“Tell Penelope hi for us,” Fred called, laughing when Percy sputtered and fled the room flushed.

Ron settled on the floor, leaning against the couch next to where Hermione had sat with a book given to her from Fred. “We think they’re planning out the year, making the assumption they’ll be Head Boy and Girl. Which won’t be surprising to anyone.”

Ginny walked in, carrying a tray of tea. “Harry, any news on your godfather?”

Harry sighed, pulling back from reading over Hermione’s shoulder. “It’s almost certain he didn’t have a trial. The only information regarding any processing from that night is just along the lines of ‘whatever it takes to get another Death Eater off the streets’. Aunt Amelia is talking with a few trusted friends to determine our next steps.”

“You know what that first step is going to be, Harry. You’re going to have to talk to Fudge.” Hermione flipped a page idly. 

The high pitched whining noise that came from Harry made everyone in the room burst into laughter. “He’s such a… he’s such a sycophant, Hermione.”

She sat up, book thudding closed. “Exactly! He follows power, Hadrian James, and if you haven’t figured it out in the past three years, you are power. You could be the most powerful wix in our country if you just work your connections!” 

“Blimey, Mione, okay! Yes, I’ll talk to him! Just stop hitting me!”

Neville shifted awkwardly from his position leaning against Ginny’s legs. “Speaking of, Gran mentioned running into Fudge yesterday at the ministry.”

Harry’s head swung around, his eyes already defeated. “Please don’t tell me-”

“He’s hoping to catch you before we leave. He thought Gran would know when the portkey left, and wanted to have a photographer just happen to be hanging out in the ministry lobby.”

George had to physically stop Harry from ramming his head repeatedly into the back of the couch.

“What exactly are you hoping for, with this? If that Arcturus bloke was right, and your godfather didn’t betray you that night. Of course we want to find out the truth, but are you hoping Black will whisk you away from the muggles or something?” 

“Is the truth not enough, Fred?” Harry snapped, eyes flashing.

“I’m just saying-”

“I know. Sorry.” He sighed again. “Of course I’m hoping it’ll get me away from the Dursleys. But honestly, I just want to know what really happened that night. I’ve got the pictures and letters that Gran and Hagrid put together my first year, but there’s so much I don’t know. I’m not expecting to immediately be some perfect family, but if he betrayed my parents, I want to know.” Harry leaned forward, and nearly everyone in the room swallowed at the sudden weight in the air. “And if he didn’t, and someone else, someone at fault, is still out there, then I want justice. And then I want answers.”

The room fell to an awkward silence as the Weasley children all met each other’s eyes. Neville and Hermione traded a look of confusion at the sudden tension. It was Ron that spoke up with a wince.

“We did ask, last week. Our parents knew yours, back during the first war. Not well, since Mum and Dad were a few years ahead. But apparently everyone at Hogwarts knew James and his friends by the end of their first year. Mum’s brothers…” Ron trailed off, eyeing the twins.

“Fabian and Gideon were like us. Prankster twins, the envy of all.” Fred puffed out his chest, before laughing as George pushed him aside to continue.

“Mum said once they were nothing compared to your da and his friends. They were closer than brothers, Gryffindors who did everything together.”

Ron held up four fingers, ticking them off as he went. “Your dad, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. And by the time they graduated, your mom had joined up with them, and then most of the Wizarding World knew their names. Between Sirius and James, they were hard to miss.”

Ginny brought a leg up on the couch, resting her chin on her knee. “The Black that spurned generations of tradition and went Light, and the newest pureblood Potter that was dating a muggleborn.”

“Your dad was fast-tracked to be Head Auror with Sirius not far behind, your mom was one of the smartest witches to come out of Hogwarts in centuries, with potions and charms essays published before she could even get a Mastery. And the five of them were apparently so close that if you knew about one, you couldn’t help but to know all of them.” Ron looked towards Harry and Hermione, a slight smile. “Sounds familiar, honestly.” 

Harry snorted under his breath, but then stilled, blinking a few times. “Wait, did you say Remus Lupin?”

“Um, yeah?”

He smacked his palm against his forehead. “Of course. That’s why that name sounded familiar! Griphook mentioned him when we were going over my parents’ will, back before first year. It’s been bothering me since Draco’s letter.”

Ron rolled his eyes at the mention of the Malfoy heir, but Hermione leaned forward. “What did Draco say?”

“Lupin’s going to be the new Defense teacher this year.”

“Has he contacted you at all?” Neville asked, worrying at his thumb.

“No, he hasn’t. Unless he was one of the people Gran reached out to for my album, but nothing directly to me.”

Hermione reached over, a hand on his. “Then why after all this time?”

Harry set his jaw, eyes locked out the window as he took a deep breath. “You can bet I’m going to find out.”

 

A few days later, Hermione was once again awoken by Harry jumping at the foot of her bed, laughing as she tossed her pillow at him. 

“C’mon, Mione! If anyone’s going to be upset about today, it’s going to be me. I have to play Boy-Who-Lived today. But we’re going to Egypt!”

She groaned, trying to pull the blanket over her head. “Egypt will still be there if I sleep another hour.”

“But the portkey won’t. I told you not to stay up reading.” He collapsed into a sitting position, wisely out of kicking range.

Hermione peered over the edge of the blanket with a pout. “Theo offered me a book on how Egyptian mythology and magical history coincide. It was three in the morning before I even realized.”

“So it’s Theo’s fault, sure.”

“Shut up and get out so I can change. How long do we have?”

“Gran’s bringing Neville round for breakfast in half an hour.” Harry stood and patted her covered leg. “I’ll meet you down there. I’m leaving my key on the dresser, put whatever you’re not bringing to Cairo in my room and lock it behind you.”

She waved a hand as she sat up. Said hand turned into a vee when Harry laughed at the sight of her hair.

When she wandered down to breakfast bussing Hannah’s cheek as she went, she settled down to a far-too-awake Neville and reached for the coffee. “Morning, all.”

Lady Longbottom chuckled to herself. “Not a morning person, dear?”

“It comes far too quickly, ma’am.”

Neville frowned. “You never seem this tired during the school year.”

“That’s because during the school year she lets us bully her into sleeping early, not to mention she’s allowed to use her magic and brew Pepper Up. Or have me do it for her when she forgets.” Harry passed her the small jug of milk.

“You two can brew Pepper Up? Before you’ve reached third year?” Augusta raised a perfectly maintained eyebrow.

Harry gave her a guilty smile. “We tend to be ahead in Potions, Gran. Professor Snape got tired of our questions and now gives us… challenges, let’s say.”

“Harry even gets weekly tutoring,” Neville chimed in. “Professor Snape also got tired of him experimenting during class and blowing things up. Seemed to think that distracted the rest of us from our brewing.”

“That only happened once.”

“Plans for a Potions Mastery, young Hadrian?”

“Maybe. But my main goal is to study magical creatures.”

Hermione leaned in, much more awake even after just a half a cup of coffee. “He’s already begun putting together a research paper. I’m trying to get him to send it to the Magical Menagerie Muster for publication at the end of this year.”

“Very impressive, to begin your career at such a young age. Neville, you’ve found very strong companions for yourself. I can only hope they spur your own studies.”

“Gran,” Harry interrupted, knocking his foot against a slightly dejected Neville’s under the table. “Have you had much interaction with Minister Fudge? We’ve only talked through letters, and I’m interested to meet him in person today. I was hoping to bring up Lord Black’s questionable incarceration.”

Augusta laughed, not even caring that they were in public as she shook her head. “A fool, but then what figurehead isn’t? He knows who pulls at his strings, and he’ll play the part of puppet if it gets him through hard times. Do be careful, Hadrian. You have much political power, but Cornelius has always been a fickle character.”

“Aunt Andi seems sure that Fudge will take advantage of the press he’ll get if he helps me with this. Either way things turn out, he’ll get a boost in the polls. He’ll either rectify a huge error from his predecessor, and free the head of a major House, or he’ll cement the Boy-Who-Lived in the role.”

“I have no doubt. But while he may be willing to do you favors now, if the winds of fortune shift away from you, if the public turns on you, so will he. Be wary.”

“I will, Gran. With mentors such as you in my corner, how can things go wrong?” He shot her a winning grin.

She simply rolled her eyes. “Finish your meals, we have a portkey to catch.”

 

Harry had only been to the Ministry once before, having gotten a quick tour from Amelia Bones the summer prior.

He had forgotten just how hectic it could be.

The main atrium, circling a massive fountain, was alive with activity. Ministry workers, citizens with various requests, foreign dignitaries working connections.

And, unfortunately, quite a lot of press.

The din of the crowd was near deafening as they entered, and it only got worse when people began to notice their group walking in the main entrance.

Harry wished he had his beanie.

Hermione had made him promise not to wear it until after they’d gotten to Cairo.

Emerging from the crowd a few moments later was the Minister himself, grin wide as his arms as he moved towards them.

Harry could feel the weight of dozens of eyes as even more people turned to the spectacle.

Each click of a camera was a physical poke against his basic Occlumency shields.

He bit back a grimace as the Minister reached to shake Arthur’s hand.

“Arthur! Congratulations on winning this year’s draw! Couldn’t have gone to a more deserving man. This must be Molly, yes?” Fudge bussed Molly’s reddening cheek. “A pleasure, dear. And Augusta! You hadn’t told me you were joining them when we chatted last week.”

Lady Longbottom leaned on her cane, eyeing him warily. “I hadn’t known at the time, Cornelius. Arthur and Molly were kind enough to invite my grandson and I just a few days ago.”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Fudge turned once more, eyes lighting up when he saw Harry.

It was only Ron’s light grasp on his wrist that kept him from fleeing.

“And of course, Heir Potter!”

Drawing up any ounce of Slytherin charm he could, Harry played his part to the crowd with an ease he wished was natural.

“Minister, call me Hadrian, please. After all our enlightening correspondence these past few weeks, it’s the least I can offer you.”

Fudge’s grin grew as he held out his hand, pumping Harry’s enthusiastically. “And it has been a pleasure chatting with you, Hadrian. We will have to have that cuppa when you get back.”

“Of course, sir.”

As Fudge pulled away, so did the crowd, and Harry could finally breathe again.

Blinking away the flashes of light from the photographer, he called after Fudge. “Minister, may we chat for a moment? A bit of business?” 

“Hadrian, of course! What can I do for you?”

“While I look forward to our tea later this summer, my account manager at Gringotts has brought up a pressing issue regarding Sirius Black.”

The minister cleared his throat, eyes darting around the area. “In what way?”

“As you know, if Lord Black is still incarcerated when I turn 16, I take over the Lordship. You understand that we want to be sure everything was on the up and up concerning his arrest. My lawyer was especially concerned when we couldn’t find any evidence of a trial.” Harry shook his head sadly. “Your predecessor may have made a glaring error, Minister, and I would be honored if you would right his wrong and help me bring justice to the Head of Black House.” 

“The honor would be mine, Heir Potter-Black. Just let me know how best to utilize the Ministry resources for your appeal,” Fudge replied as he straightened his bowtie. 

“Many thanks, sir. And I’ll be in touch when we return from Egypt about that spot of tea.”

Fudge gave Harry a wink and began to move away. Weighing his options, Harry took a step after him.

“Minister, I was wondering one more thing. Could you do me a personal favor?” 

“Ask it.” 

 

A letter lighter, Harry, Hermione, the Longbottoms, and the Weasleys gathered in the portkey room, pockets full of shrunken luggage and quite a lot of sun protection potion.

Harry locked eyes with his godbrother, both of them bracketed by various redheads, and grabbed the shoestring. 

With a grin, he felt a sharp tug at his navel, and the next second, the room was empty.

Notes:

not my characters, just some green tinge to them
poteatthegeek everywhere you can find
comments/kudos welcome and appreciated :)

Chapter 4: First Vacation With Found Family

Summary:

Cairo awaits!
But does being in a different country mean that Harry is finally away from his own drama?
Based on his record, probably not...

Notes:

SORRY IT'S SO LATE!
the one time i actually have to go from work to d&d is the time my computer decides to force a restart update
so i had to wait until after i kicked some ass to update
hope it was worth the wait!

Stepping out of the Egyptian Ministry, after having shaken the Egyptian Minister’s hand, Harry was hit with a wave of heat. He blinked against the blinding sun, staring at gleaming buildings and far-off sand and an entire world to explore. 

It was almost too much to take in.

George was the one who sidled up to him, Ron and Fred chasing Ginny while Hermione and Percy swapped facts about the Library of Alexandria. 

The twin nudged his shoulder. “You alright, mate?” 

Harry nodded, leaning slightly into his friend. “This is my first proper holiday. Anywhere. Ever.” 

George sighed, pushing away any homicidal thoughts towards a specific muggle family in Surrey, throwing his arm around Harry instead. “Well, little brother, I’m going to guarantee to you that it’s not your last. C’mon, I think I see Bill.”

With a shout, various members of the Weasley clan spotted their eldest brother and began to run down the pavement towards him. He quickly went down in a pile of red and laughter, much to the bemusement of the people passing by. 

After he freed himself from his various siblings, Bill hugged Percy, who had lagged behind the others, as well as Arthur and Molly. He then turned, and without hesitation, wrapped Harry and Hermione up in his arms as well. 

“Hello, family!” he enthused, pulling back to tug a strand of both of their hair, laughing when they both reached up to smack his hands away. “Alright, you two?”

Harry just nodded with a smirk as Hermione started asking questions, about wards, mythology, and curses. Poor Bill was gobsmacked by the onslaught. Harry just grabbed Bill and Hermione by the sleeve and tugged them further down the hill where the rest of the Weasleys watched, amused.

Her tirade ended when Ron moved forward, hand covering her mouth as his curled into a grin. “Breathe, Mione. We have all week.” 

She rolled her eyes but nodded. 

Bill blinked back into the conversation, then cleared his throat. “So, first, we’ll drop your stuff off at the hotel, let you get settled. We’ll grab some lunch at a local place, then I figure I’ll show you a few things at work before setting you loose on the museums here in the city.” He turned to the Longbottoms, Neville leading his grandmother slowly down the street, their eyes skating around the city. “Madam Longbottom, a pleasure to be your guide this week. Please let me know if there’s anything specific you or your heir wish to see.”

Augusta waved a hand. “We aren’t fussy, Heir Weasley. We will spend a day or two visiting a friend in Morocco towards the end of the week, but don’t make any plans based on us.”

“Very well. Shall we?” 

Hermione immediately pulled Harry’s arm forward, and they bracketed Percy, who had pulled out a tour guide book. Fred sidled up to Bill, George tugging at Ginny’s hair as she questioned Ron’s careful stroking of his pet rat. Molly and Arthur strolled a bit behind them, smiling at their children. Augusta joined them, casting a quick spell to ensure her cane didn’t get caught on sand as they went.

Laughing, the Weasleys and their friends descended onto Cairo, relishing in the heat and the unknown that lay before them.

 

Harry knew something was off the moment he walked over the threshold of the building. 

The hotel was fine, a small lodge that Bill swore would be perfect for their trip, especially considering how much they had planned outside of it.

Lunch was heavenly, and Harry was reminded of the spices that permeated his favorite chai, making a note to himself to beg Tweak to learn how to make food similar that year.

Neville and Augusta opted to take an hour to rest at the hotel before exploring the area, leaving only the family to go with Bill.

Ron, of all people, seemed eager to go into Gringotts, the cursebreaker shaking his head at his younger brother as Ron asked questions without end.

Harry, hiding in the middle of the pack, followed along with a smile.

One that fell away only two steps onto the polished marble floor.

A wave of magic ran over their group, and with it a wave of nausea ran through him.

The blood drained from his face as a sharp, radiating pain spiked through his forehead.

Blindly, he reached out for the closest body, fingers digging into Ginny’s forearm as he swayed.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” 

White light flooded his vision as the pain lanced, before draining away slowly, leaving him heaving in the middle of a Weasley huddle.

In the middle of a Gringotts bank.

In the middle of a completely different country.

“Back up, let him breathe,” Bill ordered, weaving between his siblings to stand in front of Harry, gentle hand lifting his face to run his eyes over it. “Where does it hurt?”

“Scar,” he whispered, trying to blink back the tears running down his cheeks. Ginny pulled out a bandana from his own bag, carefully wiping at his face. 

By the time his eyes cleared enough for him to look up at Bill, the older man’s jaw had set. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’ve got a friend who’ll let us use her office just down the hall. I’ll call a healer when we get there.”

“What was that? Was that the wards flaring?” Ron asked, his long legs easily keeping up with his brother as Bill led them away.

The cursebreaker shot him a surprised look. “You felt that?”

He simply shrugged. “We’ve been practicing wardwork.”

Bill turned to Hermione with a curious look. “That’s why you were asking about the wards around the Burrow. You’ve been testing them?”

“It’s not as if it’s a big deal,” she replied. “It’s just a modified form of Legilimency. A lot easier than actual mind magic. And we’re not trying to disable them, just get a feel for them.”

Before Bill could respond, Harry groaned from under Ginny’s arm. “As much as I love people realizing how brilliant Mione is, I’d kill someone for a pain relief potion.”

“Right. This way.” 

A few turns later, they were filing into a spacious office, Harry collapsing on a couch as Bill spoke with the goblin who had vacated her chair as soon as she saw their group.

While Harry couldn’t understand what they were saying (Griphook wouldn’t let him start learning Gobbledegook until he had more than just a basic grasp on Hindi), the surprised look she shot at him gave him the gist of the conversation.

He leaned back, head thunking against the back of the couch.

His first vacation was off to a great start.

 

Five minutes later, Bill had guided Molly and Arthur out to the hallway, leaving the younger Weasleys surrounding Harry.

Harry, who was clutching a now-empty vial of pain relief potion.

Ginny was sitting on the arm of his chair, rubbing at his shoulders.

Hermione was sitting in front of him, scribbling at her notebook.

Fred was standing just behind him, arms crossed with a worried look.

George and Percy were sitting on the singular couch in the room, at the edge of the cushions, eyes darting between everyone else in the room.

Ron was pacing.

By the time the adults had reentered, everyone was mostly calm aside from Ron’s fretful strides.

“Okay, so backup is coming, and hopefully we can get some answers and get you lot enjoying your vacation before lunch.”

Ron spun on his heel. “You think we’re going to enjoy a fucking stroll on the sand when Harry’s setting off wards and shite?”

“Ronald! I understand you’re worried about Harry, we all are. But watch your language!”

Before he could retort to his mother’s censure, Hermione reached a hand to wrap around his ankle as he passed.

“We’re in and out of wards all the time, including the British Gringotts branch. Why did these go haywire?” Ginny’s shoulder was a comfortable pressure against Harry’s side as she quizzed her brother.

“Well, Egypt has a few things that are much more common than Britain, just culturally. So we have wards a little more attuned to things that we have more issues with. There are things Egypt doesn’t scan for that Britain does.”

Harry ignored Hermione’s increased scribbling and looked towards Bill. “Any way to tell what exactly set it off?”

“My partner is on her way, she’s an expert in wards. If you think the ones at the Burrow are impressive, that’s nothing compared to hers. She’ll be able to figure out which spell was set off, and the best steps forward.”

The room fell into silence once more, only broken by Harry’s shuddering breaths, and Ron’s continuing pacing.

Everyone jumped at a sharp knock on the door.

Bill opened it to reveal a short, dark-skinned woman, hair shaved close to her head. 

She moved into the room, hands on her hips as her eyes scanned it. “It’s supposed to be our day off, Weasley. What’s going on?” Her accent seemed local, based on the handful of conversations he’d had leaving the Egyptian ministry.

Bill ran a hand through his hair. “You know how I said my family practically adopted the Boy-Who-Lived, and everything got chaotic?”

“Billllll,” Harry whined, head lolling back to look at the man. “That better not be how you actually introduced me.”

He shrugged. “Sorry, little brother. If it fits.” He turned back to his partner. “Anyway, surprise surprise, when he comes to visit me, he makes life a lot more interesting.”

The woman sighed deeply, barely looking twice at Harry.

“And this involves me how? Surely the boy would rather just enjoy his vacation.”

“She’s right. The boy would rather just enjoy his vacation,” Harry grumbled. Ginny flicked his ear.

“Even so, I think we’d all appreciate your skills in getting some answers. He set off the wards at the front door.” Bill moved to hover behind Harry. “Isil, his curse scar set off the wards. At the front door .” 

The woman, Isil, froze in place, before she slowly turned to set a steely gaze on Harry.

Harry gulped.

“Where?”

Harry’s eyes skated over his own shoulder, seeking Bill.

Who just nodded encouragingly.

“My scar. On my forehead. Which apparently was a parting gift from Britain’s most recent Dark Lord, known as Voldemort. To those brave enough to say it.”

Suddenly, Isil was nearly nose to nose with him, wide eyes affixed to his scar. “Hello, Mr. Potter. My name is Isil El-Sadat. May I cast a few diagnostics?”

Hermione’s scribbling paused, and she flipped several pages to a blank section.

Harry sighed. “A pleasure. Yes, you may. If Bill trusts you, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

They both ignored Bill’s pleased grin as Isil stepped back, pulling her wand out. 

Lights blinked around Harry, and he bit back a wince as a growing pressure in his skull became more and more uncomfortable. 

Ginny squeezed her hand around his arm, giving him a steadfast presence to focus on.

That, and the sound of pen on paper as Hermione wrote furiously at his feet.

A moment later, he blinked away the flashes of the spell, and looked up at Isil, who was tapping her wand against her downturned mouth.

“Research. I need to go to the library. I’ll keep Weasley updated, as soon as I know something. But first glance, you don’t have anything pressing to worry about. Enjoy your holiday, and all that rot.”

Without a word for even Bill, Isil disappeared out the door. 

Arthur straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers. “Well, Bill, you had some things to show us around here?”

Eyes still on his retreating partner, Bill sighed. “Yeah. We’ve got some cool projects that aren’t completely confidential.”

They filed out, Bill leading them down yet another hallway, Arthur and Molly once again trailing behind, heads bent together with matching frowns.

Hermione tapped her fingers impatiently on her notebook as they walked. 

Harry chuckled to himself, before rolling his eyes and catching her eye and giving her a nod.

She bit her lip but stepped up to Bill. “Soooo…” 

The eldest Weasley son turned to her with a raised brow.

“Was that ward simply a spell, inked runes in a scheme, or a wardstone?”

Ron shot her a scowl, voice lowered as he hissed at her across Harry. “Mione, Harry’s barely standing and you’re asking about the ward?”

“He said I could!”

“Still!”

“Ron, it’s fine. I’m curious, too, and it’ll distract me.” Harry reached over, a still-shaking hand landing on Ron’s side. “It’s not going to do any of us any good to dwell on this. Let’s do what we planned on doing: learning too much and enjoying our summer.”

Hermione took that as her cue to loop an arm through Bill’s, chatting with him in undertones.

Ron stopped, turning Harry to look into his eyes, clearly looking for something.

Harry was too tired to try to mask anything, but apparently Ron still was satisfied with what he saw, pulling back to throw an arm around his shoulders.

“Fine. But if you need a break today-”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my beanie, we’ve got Bill. Just try not to leave me behind, I swear those long legs of yours have grown since we landed from the portkey.”

Ron scoffed. “Whatever, shortstack. C’mon, Bill said there’s an original manuscript about sphinx down here that we’re allowed to see.”

“Wait, what?” Harry perked up, grabbing Ron’s hand from his shoulder to pull him forward. “Let’s go!”

 

The week flew by. 

Nearly every day ended with Harry, Hermione, Percy, and George disappearing into the stacks of the Library of Alexandria, which had a direct floo connection with the library in Cairo proper. 

Neville and Augusta, after securing many plant harvests from the area, left their group the last two days, taking a portkey to Morocco to visit her friend, with promises to see them all again at the boys’ joint birthday party, if not sooner.

Harry and Hermione introduced the Weasleys to the idea of sledding, using transfigured pieces of plastic to slide down the sand dunes. This, of course, led to races, ramps, and a day of a fading hope of ever getting all of the sand out of their clothes. 

Percy had started keeping a list of all of the differences between the British Ministry and the Egyptian one, including laws and regulations to be researched when returning home. Hermione would go through his notes at dinner each day, adding her own observations, and making a list of things to ask Amelia Bones. 

Which, of course, meant having Harry ask Amelia Bones.

Bill, much to the smug satisfaction of Harry (-I swear I called this. I definitely told someone this was going to happen-) had to save Percy from getting locked in a smaller tomb in one of the pyramids they were touring, the twins booing their eldest brother from a few meters away.

Ron was pleased just sightseeing, when his worry didn’t overtake his mind. He kept one wary eye on Harry, even as Bill swore he was fine, and the other eye on Scabbers, who for some reason seemed especially twitchy since they’d arrived. 

Maybe it was the sun.

Ginny had run up to him the second day of their trip, a piece of parchment clutched in her fist. “Ron, look!” She shoved it under his face, ignoring his groan as he woke up from his nap on the riverbank of the Nile. 

“Blimey, Ginevra, what?”

He blinked away the sleep and then sat up quickly, barely missing knocking his sister’s face in the process.

“Wait, really?” 

Ginny was nodding. “Bill’s already given me the entry money for you to enter. As long as you pay him back, you can keep whatever else you make.”

Ron stood, nearly faceplanting in his rush to head back to the hotel. “I need practice. Find Percy!”

The rest of the group stood around a local pub proudly as the thirteen year old came in second in an annual chess tournament, winning what amounted to twelve galleons in debens.

Hermione, in particular, had leaned on his shoulder at his congratulatory dinner with a smile. “If only you did this well on your homework.”

Ron rolled his eyes, shrugging her arm off. “Cor, Mione, lay off. It’s summer, I don’t want to think about homework.” He leaned towards Bill, sliding him a small stack of gold coins.

He didn’t notice Hermione’s frown as she moved back towards Harry. 

Harry did, but his only solution was to start asking questions about the worship of cats in the area.

Luckily, it didn’t take much for Hermione to turn towards him, only occasionally shooting confused looks at their friend.

Harry seemed to favor researching more of the mythology of the region, diving into both the muggle side, and the wix, and how they differed. The twins had started a counter of how many times he had wandered up to someone in their group, starting a conversation with the words Did you know. 

He hadn’t been able to go longer than once an hour since he first opened a book.

Never had the group been more pleased that Harry and Hermione had semi-expanded bags, many of them buying souvenirs and books with what money Arthur had left from the lottery win. 

Molly came away with a cookbook on Egyptian cuisine, one that Harry had already promised to help her with when he next visited the Burrow. 

The twins had bought joke products, which Fred had tucked away with a wink. “Research, you understand.” 

“I don’t,” responded Harry.

Fred just laughed and ruffled his hair. “You will one day.”

“That doesn’t make sense!” Harry called after him, frowning at the silence that followed.

Ron used his own winnings to buy a book on Quidditch tactics used by past Egyptian national teams. Pulling coins out of his own pocket, it was the most pleased Harry had remembered seeing him.

Percy, Hermione, and Harry had each bought about a dozen books, about mythology, culture, history, politics-for a moment Harry was actually worried about his bag after he had shoved the last book in.

“At least the featherlight charm is still holding?” Hermione worried as they filed out of the last bookstore.

Harry swung his head around. “Hermione Jean, if you just jinxed us-”

“Sorry!”

Before they knew it, they were filing back into the Ministry, sunkissed and exhausted, but with grins on all of their faces. 

Bill hugged each of them, lingering by Harry as the others said their goodbyes.

“Look, I can’t guarantee when we’ll find any answers to the whole scar/ward thing. But as soon as we do, I’ll get to Britain. It shouldn’t be hard for me to at least use the Gringotts floo, and get the goblins there to ask for a proper meeting with you.”

Harry nodded under Bill’s arm. “I trust you, Bill. But go through my account manager, Griphook. He’ll know the easiest way to get me there. And probably grab my lawyer as well.”

“Griphook?" Bill frowned. "That’s your account manager? How’d you manage that? He barely deigns to run accounts anymore, not since he gained the king’s favor a few decades ago.”

He shrugged. “According to him, it came with quite a bit of bloodshed. I couldn’t tell how serious he was, though, the grin he gave me was terrifying. Fierceclaw said that once I get enough blood on my own hands, he’ll show me the memory.”

Bill blinked a few times, but shrugged in return. “Honestly, yeah, that tracks.” He got serious once more, a heavy hand falling on Harry’s shoulder as they turned to each other, away from where the other Weasleys were starting to get concerned. “If you have any issues, any concerns, let me know. Even if that scar of yours just twinges, let me know. I currently have a lot of good will with the goblins, and they know things you wouldn’t even think to ask.”

“I will.” Harry trailed off, biting his lip. “It’s irritated me before. I’ll write it up and send it to you. Through Griphook, through Gringotts. I’ve been told to keep it as quiet as possible, but I don’t see why a contracted hire of the bank would be a bad idea.”

Bill pulled him into another hug before pushing him towards their family. “Feel free to write just to say hi, as well. You’re as good as my little brother now, Hadrian Potter. I like to keep tabs on those.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry tried to fight back a blush as he caught up with the others just in time to be ushered into a portkey room, reaching to touch a long tapestry just in time to feel a now-familiar tug at his stomach.

 

The Weasleys elected to head directly back to the Burrow through the floo at the ministry, Percy electing to see Harry and Hermione back to the Leaky Cauldron to retrieve what books of his they had carried back. 

Tom greeted them with wide arms, giving both of them a quick hug as he ushered them upstairs, promising a cuppa for them both as soon as they settled back in.

Percy waved off his offer, a stack of books under his arm.

He ruffled the hair on both of their heads, just as he did Ron and Ginny when he was distracted but wanted to show his affection. Ducking back downstairs, he disappeared into the fire. 

Harry turned to his room, throwing his own bags on his bed. Hermione grabbed her things and went to her own room that Tom had cleared for her earlier that day. 

They were both going to sleep twelve straight hours that night.

Sighing, Harry opened the window and leaned on the sill, taking a moment to watch the hustle of Diagon, even in the fading sunlight of the cooling evening. 

Egypt was fun, and fantastic, but it was a relief to be back.

Even as the warmth of Cairo faded into the near constant rain of London.

And in just a few short weeks, he’d be back at Hogwarts. Back home.

A cup of steaming tea was placed in front of him as a warm presence appeared at his side.

Hermione looped her arm through Harry’s, leaning against him as they looked out the window towards the alley that had become yet another safe space for them.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.”

 

(Hundreds of miles away, a body shifted under tattered clothing, too stiff and soiled to be considered actual clothing by any decent person. Dull gray eyes blinked open to alight on the prim and proper form of the Minister of Magic. 

“Minister Fudge. Not Yuletime already, is it?”

“No, I’m here on a favor from a new friend of mine.” Fudge pulled out a letter and a newspaper from a pocket along the interior of his robes, tossing them through the bars to land next to the prone form. “Apparently not all in the world paint you as a villain.”

The prisoner straightened slowly, trying to will any warmth into the muscles that lost mass years prior. A shaking hand reached towards the folded Daily Prophet, eyes somehow finding moisture as they landed on the grinning face of Hadrian James Potter shaking the Minister’s hand.

“H-Harry?”

Fudge chuckled. “Oh, yes, that boy’s already an international sensation, and just shy of thirteen. Just back from Cairo with the Weasleys, if you can imagine, as well as the Longbottoms. The Egyptian Minister reached out personally to thank us for letting him visit. Even had a training session with the national Quidditch team.” Fudge brushed off his robes, turning to leave. “He’s working on your behalf, Lord Black. If he succeeds, you may yet see the light of day. The letter is from him, explaining your upcoming appeal.”

Sirius Black cradled the photograph, tracing his godson’s face, eyes skating towards the spiky lettering of the letter addressed to Lord Black. 

Any joy he had drained from his body, not from the passing dementors, but the sight of the Weasley family, arms thrown around each other. 

Eyes drawn to what looked like the youngest red-headed boy, Sirius began to shake.

Not for the first time, nor the last, a rageful shout echoed from a cell on the island of Azkaban.)

Notes:

usual: not my characters, just having fun
poteatthegeek everywhere you can find, and thanks for the people who are so curious they throw asks in my tumblr inbox! <3
comments and kudos much appreciated :)

Chapter 5: Diagon Downtime

Summary:

The start of thirteen should be a time of childhood memories-ice cream, warm days playing with friends, maybe even doing homework.
And it is all that.
But it's also politics, chaos, and gut-wrenching anxiety.
Harry's just hanging in there until he can go home-back to Hogwarts.

Notes:

i have almost had a panic attack three different times today because i'm an anxiety-riddled goober.
but i'm ignoring that.
so here's this week's chapter!
enjoy!

“Hadrian Potter, you did not get an animal.”

Harry looked up with a grin as Padma stood over his breakfast table, hands on her hips, eyes set on the orange furball purring away on the empty chair next to him.

Parvati took one look at the scene and waved dismissively, disappearing into the alley to most likely duck down Jove Alley, where Lavender Brown’s mother owned a magical cosmetics store.

“Why, what’s wrong with him? He was a sweetheart at the Menagerie.”

“That thing will eat Atticus within minutes.”

“He’s not a thing, Padma, c’mon. And he’s part kneazle, it won’t be hard to teach him not to eat any pets.”

“I can’t decide if I’m more surprised that Hermione let you buy a cat, or that you bought one at all instead of just picking up a stray.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose with a grin. “Well, then you’ll be even more surprised to find out that Crookshanks here is actually Hermione’s. She’s leaving him with me on the Alley until she’s able to train him a bit and get him ready for living muggle part of the year.”

She blinked a few times, eyes flickering between him and the cat. “Well, that proves it,” she said after a few seconds.

“Proves what?”

“Whatever madness you have is catching.”

He shrugged. “Bad news for you, then.”

“Bold of you to assume my standards are that malleable.”

“Oh, and Hermione’s are?”

She paused, mouth slightly open. She snapped it shut as she sat gracefully down at the table. “Fair, no, they’re not.” Her head tilted, a small smile growing as she eyed him. “Although, maybe for you they are.”

She ducked as he began lobbing pieces of chips at her.

 

The following month was much the same. 

He spent his days just… enjoying his time, which in and of itself was a novelty to him. Ron would scoff at his idea of enjoyment, which mainly consisted of learning things.

Many of his friends had family holidays planned; Justin to a vacation home in the Netherlands, Anthony to visit his family in America. Even Theo and his father had left for a week to visit an uncle in Germany. The rest of his friends seemed to almost set up a schedule of who would visit him each day.

Hermione and Ron, of course, would come by nearly daily. Hermione would be dropped off by her nanny at the front of the Leaky for the day until she would be collected for dinner. Ron and at least one of his siblings would come through the floo, sometimes followed by Molly who would disappear into the crowds to find an old friend to gossip with.

While Harry and Hermione studied or worked on Harry’s extracurricular homework, Ron took to wandering to a corner of the Leaky, where a few retired wizards had set up a near-permanent chess board, challenging each other almost every night. There was going to be a tournament at the end of the summer, and Ron was going to be the youngest participant to enter. 

(It took Harry a lot of begging to get Ron to let him cover his entry fee. 

“C’mon, Ron, we both know you’ll get at least top three, and you’ll have plenty to pay me back with. Think of it as a birthday gift to me, letting me pay for this.” 

“That makes no sense, but fine, if it’ll get you to stop giving me those crup pup eyes.”)

Marcus was only there on weekends, still at some under 20 Quidditch camp with Oliver Wood, much to the smug joy of their younger friends.

Padma would stop by and work on Hindi with him, slowly working through their summer work as a way for him to perfect his translations.

Most evenings, Harry was either having dinner with the Flints or the Tonks, learning about his role of heir to two major houses, and preparing him to step into his Lordships at sixteen. Andi started his summer by handing him a stack of every vote the Wizengamot had held during the previous year, working through each with him to understand the sides of the vote, the reasoning behind the vote itself, and the implications of any and all outcomes. Gerard was working through his assets, and the responsibilities he would have to certain families once he came into power.

It had become habit for Harry to stumble out of the Leaky every morning, yawning as he adjusted his near-bursting bag over his shoulder. Right as the bells chimed eight, he would lean against the doorframe just in time for Florean Fortescue to unlock his door, beckoning Harry in with a large cup of rich hot chocolate.

Harry swore he only went to the ice cream store to use the large empty tables to spread his notes out from his lessons the day before.

Honestly, it was the peace that came with hiding in an ice cream store before breakfast had even stopped being served.

No parent would bring their children in that early, and Florean always had soft music playing from a radio in the corner as he worked on batches.

And there was always a chance that the man would notice Harry’s frustration and pull him back to the kitchens, showing him how potions could manipulate even ice cream, a delicate balance that yielded a different result than just health.

Once, Harry even got Florean to admit that Willy Wonka was an old friend of his, who had dropped out of Hogwarts to start his own muggle chocolate business.

Harry couldn’t get any more information from him, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

The parade of friends that came to visit him would duck into the store shortly after Harry had gotten settled, once they realized he wasn’t hidden in the kitchens at the Leaky.

About two weeks into his stay, Hermione settled across from him with a scroll from the owl she had rented, which had flown back to the public owlery as she walked into the building.

Sensing an awkward tension from her, Harry looked up from his notes, noticing Hermione’s furrowed brow with a frown of his own. “Mione? You okay?” 

“Hmm?” She looked up, face clearing. “Yeah.” 

“Who sent you a letter? Who couldn’t just stop by?” 

“It’s… Draco.” 

Almost without realizing, Harry straightened. “What did he say?” 

Her mouth quirked. “Calm down. He’s apologizing.” 

Instantly, Harry melted back down. “Good. I thought I was going to have to write Aunt Narcissa.” 

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t hesitate to place the letter in his hand when his eyes started flickering toward it. “Read it. I’m off to meet Millie at the public library. She thinks she’s finally found a copy of the Hogwarts charter, and her aunt was able to pull some strings and get it sent here.”

“Oh, you didn’t want to come to the Ministry with us? Susan is meeting Ron and me there.”

“Not this time. Justin is sure he’s about to figure out the whole thing with the sword, and we told him we’d send him copies of some sections of the charter by the end of the week.” She leaned down to wrap him in half a hug. “Dinner at that restaurant by Lavender’s mom’s place?”

“Sure. Seven?”

Hermione winced. “Better make it six. Mama wants to watch some Doctor Who rerun with me, I should get home a little earlier.” She grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder before fixing the hairband barely holding her curls. “Don’t cause a coup without me!” She headed towards the door.

“Oh, just take all the fun out of my day!” Harry called after her, grinning. After the door swung closed behind her, he turned to the letter covered in his cousin’s elegant scrawl, scanning through the fancy language with a satisfied smile.

I would like to sincerely apologize for my actions towards you and the other first gens… Hadrian is more forgiving than I am worth, and I can only hope that you hold even a modicum of his empathy… With your knowledge of politics and my place in our world, I trust you can infer why it may take time for me to fully make up for my previous transgressions, but I swear to Morgana I will try…

“Trying a little too hard, there, cousin,” Harry muttered to himself, before rolling the letter back up and tucking it into his own bag, just in time for the door to the shop to open.

“Do I have time to get a bowl before we leave?” Susan asked as she bounced to a stop beside him.

He blinked up at her. “It’s nine in the morning.”

“And?” 

Florean laughed from where he was uncovering the magical freezer. “It’s never too early for ice cream, Miss Bones. Your usual?”

“Yes, please!” She sat down at the table. “Ron not here yet?”

“No, I’m sure Molly is making him eat actual food.”

“Benefits of having a mom to worry over you, I guess.”

Harry reared back with a mock shocked look. “Susan Ophelia Bones, joking about being orphaned? You really have been hanging out around us Slytherins too long.”

She smirked. “Neither of us even really knew our parents. It’s not like I’m about to make that joke around Neville.” 

“Well, honestly, after everything last year and the mindhealing he’s been doing, he’d probably laugh along.” 

“Good, he’ll need a dark sense of humor if he keeps up this thing with Nott. Is that going well?” 

Harry shrugged. “They’re still writing, as far as I know, but I’m a little out of the loop. Theo’s in Germany. And Gran’s been keeping Neville at their manor, has some family friend tutoring him in things from the last two years now that he has a proper wand.”

“Too bad that won’t matter for potions.” 

He grinned. “I have a plan for that.”

Accepting a bowl of butter pecan from Florean, Susan started to eat. “Speaking of plans, what are we doing today? Auntie has a few people to introduce you to, but outside of that, the day is ours.”

“Uncle Lucius is meeting me to finalize the transfer of Dobby. Other than that, I don’t have anything to do. Fudge is in muggle London, apparently, so we’re waiting to have tea until next week.”

“Dobby… That’s that house elf you’re getting? I still don’t understand why you need one.”

“I don’t. But doing only little things for me would be way better than working for the Malfoys. He’s a little too… odd for them, I think.”

Her face crumpled. “Poor thing. Well, if you even need, I’m sure we can find a few projects around Bones Manor. We only have the one elf, and usually Mura is busy helping Auntie with her correspondence if she’s not tending to our rooms and meals.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But at least for now, I’m just going to see if he can work at Hogwarts, helping around the castle when I don’t have anything for him.” He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. “Which reminds me…”

“Writing the headmaster? Will Dumbledore let you have a personal elf on the grounds?”

 “Well, putting aside the fact that I apparently have a claim to the castle to begin with, I’m not writing to Albus. Professor Snape can ask on my behalf.” 

She gave him a disbelieving look. “You think he will?” 

“He was there for Dobby’s original… acquisition,” Harry smirked. “I think that gave him enough amusement to do me this favor.”

“I guess he does have a soft spot for you. For his idea of a soft spot.”

“Benefits of being insanely likeable. And the orphaned child of his oldest friend.” 

“Oh, we’re being open with that now?”

Harry gestured around. “We’re the only two here. It’s not like I’m revealing national secrets in the middle of the ministry.”

She rolled her eyes just as the bell over the door chimed again.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late.” Ron was almost a whirlwind as he closed the door behind him, grabbing a spoon from the counter along the wall and settling next to Susan, immediately stealing a small bite from her bowl. “Mum insisted on having a full breakfast, like going to work with Da is going to be such a hard day. She says hi, by the way, and wished you could have come by the Burrow instead of me meeting you here.”

Harry chuckled. “If I went to the Burrow for breakfast, I’d be too full to leave.”

“You say that like she’d have a problem with that situation. At all.”

“Uncle Lucius might.” Harry ignored Ron’s grimace at the name as he finished writing his letter. “Almost finished? I’ll just run this by Hedwig really quickly and then we can go.”

Ron scraped a large spoonful from the bowl, shoving it into his mouth. “Weady,” he replied through the ice cream.

Susan’s face screwed up as she walked her now empty bowl to the dish receptacle. “Disgusting, Weasley. Have some manners.”

“Why? S’not like I’m trying to impress you.”

“Cheers, Ronald.” She wiped her hands. “Let’s go. I want tea, and Auntie’s assistant keeps the best leaves at her desk.”

After Hedwig had disappeared through Harry’s window at the Leaky, and after the boys had dragged Susan away from distracting Hannah on her shift, the three of them ducked through the floo to blink at the chaos of the Ministry Atrium.

“Mr. Weasley first?” Susan looped an arm through Harry’s, Ron lumbering just behind them as he took in the crowds.

“Yeah, the House Elf office is on the same floor, so I’ll just meet Uncle Lucius from there.”

Arthur was thrilled to show them around the small Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, as many other wixen gathered around Harry.

It was odd that he was being asked questions not about being the Boy-Who-Lived, but as someone who grew up in the muggle world.

Questions about movies, electricity, medicine, even churches.

Harry made a note on his list to have muggle encyclopedias sent to the office immediately.

“You don’t have any muggle-raised in the office?” he asked Arthur as the crowd around them dispersed.

“No, no. Most don’t want to work here. They apparently find other departments more rewarding, or don’t want to work in the same world they grew up in.”

Susan sighed. “And of course, the Muggle Studies class is a wash.”

Arthur chuckled. “You didn’t hear that from me. Harry, it’s almost eleven. Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Right.” Harry let out a pained groan. “I’ll be off. Thanks for the tour, Arthur. Give Molly my love.”

“Come for dinner sometime soon! And Molly will want to feed you for your birthday.”

“Of course!” Harry waved over his shoulder as he and Susan started for the door, before stopping when he noticed Ron not following.

“I’ll hang out with Da. Malfoy’s not likely to be in a good mood if I’m there.” Ron kicked at the carpet.

Harry paused. “Okay. We’ll be at Amelia’s office after if you want to meet back up with us.”

Ron just nodded. “Go on. If I don’t see you in a few, I’ll catch you at dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Six, Hermione has to get home early tonight.” Harry blinked at Ron worriedly, until Susan started pulling at his arm. 

“C’mon, we’ll be late, and I doubt being your pseudo-uncle is going to make him look kindly on that.”

“He’ll have to deal with it, or I’ll write his wife,” Harry muttered, biting back a smile when Susan burst into laughter.

“If only the world knew how many great men could be quelled by a letter to their spouse.”

Harry snorted just as they turned the hall, suddenly looking up at doors titled House Elf Resource, Registration, and Relocation.

He sighed again.

Susan leaned into his side, her chin settling on his shoulder. “Twenty minutes, and then we’ll go for tea with Auntie and have her tell us stories about stupid people she has to deal with.”

He inadvertently shrugged her off when he spotted Lucius Malfoy approaching from the other end of the hallway, making Harry tense and straighten his posture.

Ignoring Susan’s whispered you got this, Harry put on his Slytherin mask.

“Uncle! So good to see you. How was France?”

The man paused midstep, but quickly blinked into his own public persona. “Quite lovely, this time of year. We’ll have to bring you along one summer. Any interest in learning French?”

“Maybe after I’ve mastered Hindi. A bit of a late start to it, you understand. But it didn’t seem right to not learn the language of my family’s homeland.”

“Honorable, to say the least, young Hadrian. Heiress Bones, a pleasure. Visiting your aunt?”

Susan gave a slight curtsy. “Yes, Lord Malfoy. Auntie wanted to give Harry a bit of a tour after he was finished with his errand.”

“Well, I shan’t try to keep her waiting. Shall we?”

They followed Lucius into the hall, Harry rolling his eyes at the attendant behind the desk tripping over himself to come to the Malfoy lord’s aid. 

“Lord Malfoy! Just in time! Not that we’d expect anything less, sire. Right this way! Mr. Kern is just finishing up the paperwork for you.” The young man bowed, and as he did, finally noticed the two children following the blonde.

It was Susan’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Merlin’s beard… Harry Potter?”

Harry’s jaw ticked.

Lucius, however, tapped his cane loudly upon the stone floor. “I believe you said our appointment was waiting for us? My nephew has better things to do than suffer such sycophancy.”

The attendant blushed bright red before nearly tripping again in his haste to lead them down the corridor. “Of course, Lord Malfoy, Heir Potter. Just through this door here.”

Susan leaned against Harry’s side as they walked. “See? Power is good for something.”

Harry shook his head with sigh. “Not for goodwill.”

She just hummed.

The paperwork was ready, piled together by a man obviously quite bored with his job, even when faced with the Lord and Heir of two major houses. A few signatures, and Mr. Kern has waving his wand over the papers with a sigh.

“Please call the elf in question.”

Lucius tapped his cane against the floor again. “Dobby!”

With a crack, Dobby appeared, shaking in place, until he saw Harry and brightened. “Harry Potter, sir!”

Harry winked at him. “The ritual, Mr. Kern?”

The worker had Harry and Dobby clasping an arm together as he drew runes into the air, muttering Latin under his breath.

With a surge of magic, Harry felt a sudden weight in his mind, almost what he would imagine a live wire just on the periphery of his consciousness. 

He and Dobby both stumbled back.

“The transfer of the elf is complete. Thank you for visiting the House Elf R, R, & R offices.”

He ushered them back past the desk attendant, who busied himself with some parchment and didn’t even look up at them as they went.

Outside the office, Lucius scanned the hallway, nodding at a few passing people. “Well, Hadrian, I believe that concludes our business for the day. Should you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out, Narcissa and I will do our best to aid you.”

“Of course, Uncle. I appreciate all the help you’ve already given me. Give Draco and Aunt Narcissa my best.” 

The two shook hands, Lucius barely hiding a pleased smirk as people stopped at the sight of the two. As soon as they separated, Malfoy spun on his heel and stalked down the hall, people ducking out of the way.

“Power,” Susan whispered again, her arm snaking through his.

“You’re a terrible example of a Hufflepuff.” Harry patted her hand. “Anyways. Dobby, welcome.” He turned to the elf, who was now vibrating with excitement. “Now, I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I am to have you work with me. But before we get started, I have a very important question.”

Susan bit back a laugh at the flopping of Dobby’s ears as he nodded eagerly.

“Anything, Master Harry Potter, sir.”

“You can say yes, or you can say no. Either answer is completely okay. Would you like to be free? I can pay you for your services.”

Dobby froze, eyes impossibly wide.

“It’s completely your choice. I don’t want anyone working with me that doesn’t want to be there.”

After another moment of complete stillness, Dobby began to cry.

 

A few minutes later, the now free and paid Dobby was sent off to Gerard Flint’s office to do some much overdue organization, waiting for permission to enter Hogwarts.

Susan was tugging Harry towards the elevator with a frown.

“And another reason I’m a perfectly adequate Hufflepuff: power isn’t in and of itself a bad thing, it depends on what you do with it. Having power is the first step in creating equality. Although technically part equality, part equity is the ultimate goal. Giving everyone access to what they need, allocating resources so everyone has an equal chance no matter what circumstances they began with.”

“Susan, I apologize, yet again, for my crass joke about your integrity as a Hufflepuff. There’s no need for this.”

“Don’t pull your politic talk with me, Hadrian James.” She did quiet, however, when they filed into the elevator with a few Ministry employees.

One, a dark skinned man in vibrant robes, a hoop earring on one lobe, smiled down at them. “Miss Bones, a pleasure to see you again. Visiting the Director?”

“Hi, Auror Shacklebolt! Yes, Auntie is expecting us. Have you met Harry?”

She turned to smile at Harry. “Harry, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of Auntie’s best aurors.”

The man grinned. “I doubt that’s true, but I’ll take it nonetheless. Mr. Potter, an honor to meet you.” 

Harry shook his hand. “Same here, sir.”

“You two just go ahead and call me Kingsley. None of this sir or Auror Shacklebolt. I’m not one for formalities.”

“Cheers, Kingsley. Feel free to call me Hadrian, then.” Harry rocked back on his heels, searching for something else to say. “Arrest anyone interesting today?”

Kingsley burst into laughter while Susan smacked her hand against her face. “Merlin, Harry, that’s not-”

“Not today, Hadrian. Unfortunately a lot of the job is paperwork and routine patrols.”

Harry’s face screwed up. “Lame.”

“Indeed.” Kingsley was clearly trying to hold in more laughter.

Susan grabbed Harry’s arm as soon as the doors opened. “Thank Merlin. Later, Kingsley.”

Amelia didn’t even blink at Susan physically dragging Harry through her office door, hissing under her breath at him.

“I was asking after his day, how is that poor manners?”

“By asking about who he arrested?”

“He laughed, so I must not have messed up too badly!”

“Children,” Amelia cut through their argument. “Settle down if you want tea.”

“Sorry, Aunt Amelia,” they chorused, Harry sticking his tongue out at Susan as she smacked his arm.

Soon enough, tea was being poured, Susan reclined on a couch along the far wall with a magazine while Harry peered through files on Amelia’s desk. After a few moments, Amelia pushed his head away and gestured towards a chair.

“I just need to finish this report and then we’ll go for a walk. I’m sure there are quite a few people eager to see the Boy-Who-Lived. But only if you’re up for it, Hadrian.”

Harry sipped at his tea, reaching for the sugar with a wince. “I can handle a bit of a show, Aunt Amelia.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you can, after two years in Slytherin.”

He grinned at her innocently as he stirred some sugar into his drink. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Before she could respond, a blaring alarm rang through the office, a ward stone Harry hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room flashing red.

“Stay here,” Amelia commanded, before darting outside, leaving her cup tittering back and forth on the saucer. 

Instantly, Susan and Harry had their heads out the door, Susan nearly on top of Harry’s back.

 People were running, folded notes flying at high speeds overhead. 

“What do you think happened?” Harry whispered.

“No clue. Something major, that’s for sure,” Susan replied. 

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the space, magically amplified throughout what they could only assume was the entire DMLE. 

“Alert, alert. Azkaban inmate Sirius Orion Black has escaped from the island and is currently at large. Considered extremely dangerous. Use caution.” 

As the alert repeated, Harry froze, only an occasional twitch as he felt Susan pull back to look down at him. 

He inhaled, releasing the breath like a hiss. “Well, nice to know being an idiot runs in the family.” 

“Did he not get the letter you sent?”

“Fudge said he handed it to him directly, and he was cognizant enough to recognize a picture of me. So he should have seen that we were working on something to get him out.”

“So why escape? Why not reach out to Marcus’s dad or something?”

“I don’t know, Susan.” Harry sighed, picking up his bag. “I suppose I’ll be spending the afternoon with Aunt Andi and Gerard.”

The door opened, revealing Kingsley slipping into the office. “Come along, you two. Amelia wants you to go back to the Alley with Arthur, and to stay there. She said something about your lawyer, Hadrian?”

Harry just nodded.

“Me too?” Susan asked the auror as she looked at Harry worriedly. 

“Yes. She’ll either come to collect you or have someone take you home. There’s a lot to figure out in the coming days, I think. Come on.”

Kingsley led them back down the few floors towards the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department, shooting both of them concerned glances.

Arthur was waiting on them outside of the office, smile forced as he waved down the hall. “Come on, you two, Molly has lunch ready, and then I’ll take you over to Mr. Flint’s office.”

Things were starting to finally click in Harry’s head.

Sirius was on the loose, and even if he was innocent, he’d been in hell for twelve years. 

But no one really knew he was innocent, and there would be a manhunt for him.

Meaning that everyone would be worried.

Anxious.

Paranoid.

He could see his freedom slowly pulling away from him.

All he had wanted was a nice, calm summer.

Susan, watching him with a frown, wrapped a hand around Harry’s forearm and squeezed gently.

He used the pressure to anchor himself as he met Arthur’s smile with one of his own.

“Great, I’m starved.”

(What Harry didn’t know was that at the end of last year, after a year of Hermione doing research on PTSD and child abuse, she had written an extensive letter to each of the Heralds, detailing signs to look out for, and ways to help him.

No one mentioned it to each other.

And no one mentioned it to Harry.

Any time Harry unofficially invited someone new to the Nook, once the others deemed them trustworthy, they would receive a scroll with notes, but no details.

As much as Harry would dive in front of a spell for each and every one of them, the least they could do was keep Harry sane and happy in a world full of triggers.)

 

Lunch was a quiet affair, for the Weasleys. 

Arthur had obviously owled ahead, and at least Molly was aware of what had happened, if her looks were anything to go by.

The rest of them were taking their cues from her.

Ron, having been in his father’s office when the alert went off, was whispering with Susan over Harry, who was sitting between them pushing food around on his plate.

Molly was too busy fretting to scold any of them for gossiping instead of eating.

She didn’t even berate Fred for charming Percy’s water glass to giggle every time it was picked up.

Arthur had to talk her down from making all of them stay at the Burrow for the night, instead ushering Susan and Harry (and a silent Ron) back through the floo to the Leaky. 

Hannah waved at them from the bar, slightly confused at seeing them again so soon. Arthur nudged Ron and Susan towards her, a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry, I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to chat with you for a moment.”

“I’m fine, Arthur,” Harry tried, giving the man another smile.

“It must be difficult, knowing that he’s on the loose. The man responsible for your parents-”

“And there are already people looking for him, and I’m sure he won’t be able to escape notice for long.”

“I just want to be sure you don’t go looking for him. Harry, there’s every chance that he’s escaped to finish the job. To end the Potter line. I know you’re not the type to be scared, but that doesn’t mean you have to be reckless. Sirius Black, out of all your father’s friends, was known to be reckless and look what happened. Remus Lupin hasn’t been seen since that night. Peter Pettigrew, the poor lad, went after Black and all they ever found was his finger. Your poor parents… I want you to promise. Keep your eyes open and your nose clean.”

“Arthur, I promise. Why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?”

Arthur looked at least slightly at ease with Harry’s promise, shepherding the three of them towards the Flint Law Office.

That’s mainly because he didn’t know that in Harry’s mind, there was no way that Sirius Black was coming to kill him.

 

“Harry? Alright?”

He looked up to see Ron looming over him as they worked on their homework in the large meeting room of Gerard’s office.

Susan had been picked up not too long ago by her aunt, who promised both Harry and Gerard to keep them updated about the search, and any sway it may have on their chances to clear his name.

Leaving Harry scribbling out his Latin assignment with a bored Ron tapping his quill against his Transfiguration notes.

Until he stood from the table to cast a shadow over Harry’s work.

“Have you grown in the week we’ve been back from Cairo? You seem taller.”

Ron rolled his eyes as he settled on the couch next to him. “Nah, it’s you acting puny. Makes me look that much more awesome. What’s going on? What’s with the face?”

“You didn’t mention to Arthur about Gerard trying to get Sirius a trial, did you?”

The look on Ron’s face was near comical with the mock offense. “Course not. You said back when you were first thinking about it that it would be best to keep everything quiet. Did he say something?”

“Just about the escape. Telling me to keep an eye out, about some of the other guys in their group. Things I already knew, but he doesn’t know that.”

“You okay?”

Harry sighed, elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah. I just wish we had more information. Or for this to be over. I can’t believe the Lord of my House was stupid enough to escape from Azkaban.”

“Or that he’s clever enough to escape from Azkaban.”

“It’s just… Another step back in getting him justice, whether or not he did it. And now Molly and Arthur are going to be freaking out about us being safe, and I just don’t feel like I can say anything.” He trailed off, eyes red when he glanced at Ron. “I know he’s your da, and I know they’re worried, but… I don’t know. I just…” 

Ron’s heart nearly broke in his chest at the look on his best friend’s face. 

Barely a teenager and already carrying a world on his shoulders.

He didn’t hesitate before grabbing Harry’s hand. “I won’t tell them, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know telling you that you can trust them won’t count for much. But you can trust me.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Thanks, Ron. And it does count for much. I do trust you, and if you trust them, that means a lot. But…”

“They’re an outside force you don’t know how to control.”

“Not control, I’m not a Malfoy. I just… It’s been two years and I still don’t know how to read your dad. And I’m not naive enough to think that he’s the blundering muggle-obsessed dork that he pretends to be. He’s clever, and he does enough favors for people in the Ministry that he has a lot of power. I know he cares about me, but… If he finds out, tries to step in, and he thinks he’s doing something to protect me, something that could ruin Sirius’s chances…”

Ron burst into laughter, hiding his face in Harry’s shoulder. “You may be the first person outside of the family or his work friends to realize that.” He pulled back, grinning. “Guess that proves you’re part of the family proper.”

His grin widened when Harry’s cheeks darkened. “Oh, shove off, Weasley. I’m serious.”

“Are you? Bit short for being Sirius Black, no?” He lost his smile quickly. “Wait, no, Harry, come back-”

 

Things were definitely more… strained for the rest of the summer.

His birthday was quiet. He and Ron spent the night before at the Grangers, waking up to a take out meal from a local restaurant, and played football in the back garden with Hermione, Ron, and Dan. 

Ron was engrossed with the sport, leaving Hermione to pull Harry away from trying to give a stray dog leftovers.

At lunch, they caught the Knight Bus to the Leaky, where Harry was assaulted by many of the Heralds still left in the country. Neville and his grandmother were there as well, Augusta causing Tom to laugh at something as the kids gave their presents to Harry and Neville. They then ducked through the floo to the Burrow, where Molly had set up the garden with tables and tents for all the kids allowed to go, two large birthday cakes adorned in Slytherin green and Gryffindor red.

But as soon as the last friend went home, leaving Harry alone with the worrying Weasleys, his own anxiety crept back in, and there was almost always a hunch to his shoulders for the following weeks.

Tonks was almost always at Harry’s heels, even when he was visiting Gerard, the library, Florean’s, or the bank, which is all he tended to do, unless the Grangers were able to take time off from their practice to take them out to muggle London.

All he had wanted was a nice, calm summer.

Suddenly all he could think about was his convict godfather on the run from Amelia Bones and her aurors.

Gerard was working on finding some sort of legal sanctuary for the man, having Amelia send him box after box of previous cases to find precedent. 

Harry was looking for information from his father’s belongings in the Potter vault that may give even a hint of where Sirius may have gone, only retreating to the library or Florean’s when a friend hunted him down and dragged him to do homework.

Andi was just worried about her favorite cousin.

Even Narcissa had sent a letter, flowery language coding a distinct plea to find Sirius, and to let the Malfoys know if he needed help.

Griphook had just sneered. “Goblins do not care for wixen law. Lord Black was never convicted by a wixen court, and therefore has no restraints on visiting Gringotts or collecting from his vaults. Nor would we allow for harm to come to you should he seek it while within our halls.”

“Could you let me know if he visits?” Harry asked, giving his account manager a pleading smile.

The goblin’s sneer turned nearly feral. “For a fee.”

Harry rolled his eyes with a smile as he ducked back towards the cart, heading once again to his family vault.

The first time he had visited the Potter family vault, the day after his birthday, he had stopped at the door in shock.

He thought the heir vault was massive.

The Potter vault seemed never ending, with piles of coins, stacks of books, bookshelves lining walls, portraits leaning against furniture. Crests of the Potter House, tapestries of color, trunks overflowing with aged clothing, photographs, even a rack of brooms in one corner.

This was his past.

This was his inheritance.

He needed Hermione to help him sort through this, even with the list of items Griphook shoved at him.

The following days, after breakfast he’d drag whatever friend that showed up to the vault, organizing and moving things around, trying to gain some semblance of reason to the chaos.

After the third day, he had found enough books on interesting topics to halt his progression, instead retreating to the library or an empty table at Florescue’s to take notes and write questions. Animagi, metamorphmagi-apparently the Potter’s had a history of transfiguration prowess.

He guessed that meant he needed to try a little harder in that class.

 

Only a week before their return to Hogwarts, the Weasleys overtook the Leaky Cauldron, having a large potluck style meal, inviting the Tonks, the Grangers, and any of Ron’s friends that were able to stop by.

Even Minister Fudge had stopped by, using the time to drag Harry into a chat, grinning when a photographer from the Daily Prophet just ‘happened’ to pass through. He seemed extremely glad to offer Ministry cars to ensure their safety on the way to the Express the next week.

Justin and his father were in a deep discussion with Gerard Flint over business law in the muggle versus magical world. Both men were taking notes.

Hannah was sitting with Ron and Hermione, having asked Ron to teach her chess while Hermione was reading some massive tome.

After Fudge had left, Harry had cornered Dora by the bar, asking questions he’d written out after reading a book on metamorphmagus magic. 

“Tonks, can I ask you a bunch of questions about your power that you may or may not know the answer to, that may be extremely personal and very invasive?”

She laughed. “With an intro like that, how can I say no?”

“Do you have to maintain the same mass? Does it wear at your magic to maintain different forms? Do you only have human shifts or can you shift into part animal? I mean, I’ve seen you change your nose into a snout, so you can. How animal can you go? Can metamorphmagi also be animagi?”

Tonks rolled her eyes and started answering as Harry began to take notes.

The twins were badgering Marcus and Oliver about their romantic summer together, ignoring both of their claims that it was ‘just a Quidditch camp’. About an hour in, Cedric Diggory and his father were passing through to catch the Knight Bus, and Cedric ended up staying to ask about the camp as well, his father grumpily going home alone.

Percy was at the bar as well, a pile of papers in front of him as he studied and scribbled out something, either a letter or his own assignments.

Hermione looked up at Ron’s disbelieving scoff. “Hmm?”

He just gestured across the room.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning around them. “What are you talking about?”

“Blimey, and you say I’m bad at emotional shite.” Ignoring her complaint against his language, Ron tucked his hand around her chin and moved her gaze towards the bar. “Look who’s leaning towards each other like Devil’s Snare.”

She blinked blankly at Percy giving Dora Tonks a bemused look as he reached for the paper she was holding just out of his reach, one broadcasting his role of Head Boy for the upcoming year.

Harry, who had been sitting on Tonks’s other side, turned towards them with wide eyes. What the hell?, he mouthed, waving a hand at his cousin’s completely turned back.

Ron shrugged back.

“I thought he was dating Penelope?” Hermione asked, finally caught up.

“He is. But I know her dad is putting pressure on her to date up or some shite. So, who knows what’ll happen this year. Plus, she was annoyed with him as a prefect, Merlin knows how she’ll react being Head students together. While… you know. Together.”

Hermione just hummed, looking back to her book. Hannah leaned closer, asking Ron some inane question about the movement of bishops.

 

The three of them had just gotten dropped off at the Leaky, Dan and Emma having a date night before picking Hermione up a few hours later.

Ron was still in awe of the tube in muggle London, and was actually taking notes of things to tell his father that night.

They settled at their normal table in the corner of the pub, Hannah instantly pouring them all a large cup of pumpkin juice and bringing it over, blushing when Ron looked up to thank her.

Harry was distracted by the stray dog they had seen outside the Granger home again.

“Harry, we can’t adopt a dog, there’s no room in the dorms,” Hermione said as she leveled him with a soft smile but a shake of her head.

“Oh, but Crooks can fit? He’s nearly as big as a dog. Besides, it was fine when I was watching Fang last year.” 

“You say it was fine. Draco was about to make a formal complaint based on the fur that ended up on his robes just from walking through the lounge.” 

“And we’re supposed to care about Draco’s precious feelings?” 

She furrowed her brow as she looked past Harry. “Ron, leave him be.” 

“Why do you even like him, Mione? He’s a prat who assumes Daddy will fix everything and thinks you’re the scum on the bottom of his shoe.” 

Hermione huffed and stood up. “We’ve had plenty of perfectly reasonable conversations the past few weeks, Ronald. Just because you can’t seem to grow up and forgive people doesn’t mean everyone else hasn’t.” She shot a look at Harry. “I’m going to check on Crookshanks.”

She spun on her heel, heading towards the stairs. Ron turned to Harry with a confused expression.

Harry just shrugged. “He is trying, Ron. I’m not saying he’s going to be a close friend this year, but we should give him the benefit of the doubt. The apology at the end of the year was a huge step for him. He’s formally apologized to Hermione for his behavior towards her. And he warned me about Lupin.” 

With an open mouth but no words, Ron flushed and stormed off, the opposite direction of Hermione, instead towards a suddenly very happy Hannah.

Harry sighed, left at an empty table with nothing but the lingering awkward tension from his two best friends.

Thirteen was going great.

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere.
not my OG shit, just my joyride.
comments and kudos much appreciated. :)

Chapter 6: Expressly Demented

Summary:

And our friends are off to Hogwarts!
Including some unexpected train riders, catching up with old friends and making new ones, and the beginning of exploring the past... which seems to be all Harry and co. have been doing lately...

Notes:

yay! i always feel better once these kiddos are back at school...
that makes me sound like their parent which is weird but anyways
let's go year three!

“Ron, I’m telling you, I’ll just buy you a new pet. Consider it a thank you for bringing us to Egypt. Scabbers is older than dirt at this point. Trying to prolong his life is just cruel, and that’s coming from me .” Harry led them down the train corridor, pausing at the cracked door of a compartment, peering inside at an adult man slumped against the window.

“I don’t need you to buy me an owl, Hadrian James.” Ron frowned, looking over Harry’s head. “Is that a professor?” 

Harry stiffened, as he made the connection as to the only new professor they knew of. “Must be, unless Albus finally sacked Filch. Here’s hoping.”

Hermione sighed as she looked up from her book and through the window next to them. “Manners, you two. It’s the only compartment we’ve seen that’s got room. Should we-”

“Oi! Down here!” 

They looked down the car to see Theo waving at them from the other end.

“We threw an expansion charm up, c’mon.”

They all grinned and left the man to his sleep without a second thought.

(In another universe, this is the compartment our trio would have sat in. They would have been saved from the dementors by this scrawny professor, who would have fed them chocolate and endeared them to him, and, in turn, Albus Dumbledore. 

In this universe, however, they have far too many friends to catch up with, too much disdain for adults they don’t know and trust. They don’t need a professor to save them, they’ve learned by necessity to save themselves.)

 

They had only been on the move for about three or four hours when they felt the strange movement of the brakes on the rails.

Susan leaned to peer out the window, trying to squint against the rain. “We can’t be there yet.”

“I hope we are, I’m starving,” Ron replied, looking over her shoulder.

“Why are we slowing down?”

“At this point I think we can assume we’re stopping.”

“It’s not like it’s a normal tube, stopping at different stations. Otherwise why’d I have to go all the way to London to get on this damned thing?”

The train came to a full stop, jerking them all in their seats. 

“There’s something moving out there,” Susan called, still facing out.

“Maybe we’ve broken down.”

“Well, nothing we can do. Exploding snap anyone?”

“This year already sucks. We didn’t even get to see Jules on the Knight Bus this year,” Harry whined, leaning against Pansy dramatically.

Hannah adjusted her skirt as she replied. “She got a new job. She’s on the crew for the train from Platform 6 ½ in London to Wales.”

“Oh.” Harry sat up. “Good for her.” He turned. “Theo, how was Germany?”

“Exceedingly boring. Even the museums were rather maudlin, the few I was able to visit in between inane visits to my cousins.”

Ron stretched. “At least your vocabulary didn’t take a hit.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “A lesson you could do with learning, Ronald.”

“Don’t Ronald me, Theodore.”

“He’s got a point.”

“No one asked you, Ginevra.”

As his friends descended into their usual banter, Harry sat up a little straighter, something on the edge of his consciousness. A shifting in the magic that he’d never felt before.

Something worrying.

Draining.

Cold.

As he felt it move closer, Pansy nudged his shoulder. “Alright?”

He shook his head. “Something’s on the train.”

“Yeah, Sue saw people moving out there.”

“No. Not some one. Some thing. And it’s coming this way.”

There was a chill in the air, steadily growing.

“Oh Merlin,” Anthony gasped, leaning out the door to the car. “It’s heading this way. Floating, black cloak, frosting glass.” He pulled back in, throwing the lock into place and pulling the curtains. “Everyone shift together, as far as we can from the door.”

Harry was used to cold, but there was a desperation behind it that made his hands shake in a way they hadn’t in years.

“Locking charms, now,” he whispered, voice ragged as steam accompanied his words, pulling out his wand as he moved to sit on the floor under the window.

Theo was the first to react, throwing a charm to cover Harry’s own. “Dementors? Fudge must be mad.”

“Whether or not he is, I will be.” Harry nudged Hermione, who had pulled a blanket from the bag at her side. “Any bluebell jars?”

Her hands were awkward as she reached in her bag again and pulled a few out, passing them around the compartment.

It didn’t do much.

But it at least gave the idea of warmth back to them as they sat quietly, listening to the screams and chaos of students further up the train meeting the unexpected passengers.

“Is there anything we can do?” Hannah asked, tucked between Theo and Ron, shivering.

Theo and Hermione were shaking their heads. “Patronus charm is usually taught six or seventh year, advanced magic. It’s the only thing that really affects them, they don’t really have physical forms.”

“Add it to the list anyways,” Harry replied from under Pansy.

She shivered. “It’s getting closer.”

Only a moment later, the door slid open, the locking charms breaking like strings cut with scissors.

Fear.

Cold.

Emptiness.

A daunting figure floated just beyond the threshold, frost creeping across glass and metal towards any heat source.

The dementor inched forward, a horrible groan emitting from beneath its hood.

Harry hid his face in Pansy’s shoulder, all of them wrapped around each other.

There was almost a… draining sensation.

Even without seeing them, he could feel the being.

He knew what they did.

Sucking souls.

Draining happy memories.

Making you recall the worst thoughts you had.

And, unfortunately, he had quite a few of those.

Dudley standing over him as he nursed a broken arm.

Vernon’s beet red face spitting vitriol as he locked the cupboard door behind him. 

The heavy adorned ring on Petunia’s twitching hand.

Ripper the dog at the base of a tree.

Being locked out of the house.

Having a blanket taken away.

A black dog bounding away from him.

Screams.

A green light.

Darkness.

 

A slap across the face woke him up, and it was only the instant recognition of Theo Nott standing over him that his magic didn’t immediately rush out of him.

“Theo, I said shake him, not strike him!” Hermione chittered from behind him.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Okay, back up, give him space.”

Harry blinked up at the handsome figure of Cedric Diggory, who had a hand on Ginny’s shaking shoulder a few feet away.

“How’re you feeling, Hadrian?”

Harry groaned. “Like someone threw me out of the train and I landed in a pile of snow. Are they gone? We’re moving again, yeah?”

Ginny looked up at the prefect with wide eyes. “Cedric came through like a madman, blasting that thing with some light spell and it stopped attacking you.” Her face screwed up. “Apparently the new professor shot a patronus at it and it fled completely off the train.”

“How long was I out?” 

“Only a minute or two.” Hannah settled beside him, pulling a bar of Wonka chocolate from her bag. “Here, eat. It’s supposed to help.”

Harry didn’t argue, taking it and peeling back the wrapping.

The warmth that seeped back through him was almost alarming, and he looked around with a more centered clarity.

“I ask this knowing my luck means that I hallucinated. Did anyone scream?”

Hermione frowned at him. “No, Harry. No one screamed.”

“And dementors drudge up your worst memories, yeah?”

“Yes, Hadrian.” Theo shared a miserable look with him.

“Great.” He leaned back against the wall, letting the rhythm of the moving train lull him into a doze.

 

“I’m going to murder him.”

The group looked to Hermione, who was glaring at the Slytherin table. The Heralds, who hadn’t let Harry out of their sight since the dementor, followed her gaze and then snickered among themselves as they scattered to their own tables.

The Slytherins sighed and followed her as she stormed up the space between their table and the Ravenclaws.

“Seriously, Marcus?” 

The eighteen year old grinned up at her. “What?”

“I specifically remember you studying, albeit very little, for your NEWTs last year. You didn’t graduate?”

Marcus shrugged. “I may have failed Transfiguration. And DADA. And Charms.” 

She sighed, and pulled out a notepad, adding ‘tutor Marcus’ to her to-do list. “You will graduate this year if it kills me. If we can get Vince and Greg to pass their finals, we can get you to graduate. And I don’t care if you’re still on the Quidditch team, if Harry can pass all his classes so can you.” 

Harry just nodded in the background with a twisted grimace. “Your da threatened to raise my fees for his retainer if I distract you too much from passing this year. So for the sake of my bank accounts, please study. Especially since he helps run them.” 

Silence fell between them for a moment as Ron walked up with a smirk. “Didn’t want to leave your boyfriend alone for a year?” 

Everyone around them burst into laughter as Flint blushed. “Shut up, Weasley.”

 

The sorting ceremony went by quickly, no surprising sorts, and the usual delicious fare.

Everyone cheered loudly when Hagrid was announced as the new Care of Magical Creatures class, Harry standing on his seat with a whoop, ignoring the prefects along the table yelling at him. “Care is going to be awesome,” he whispered to the table when he finally settled. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That explains the book that only calms down when you pet it. How’d you even figure that out, Harry?”

He smiled as he tucked a scratch-covered hand under the table. “Practice.”

She furrowed her brow when he pulled out a piece of parchment and started writing furiously. “What are you writing? Don’t tell me you have questions for Hagrid already.”

“Cor, no. I’m writing Kettleburn. Bastard left without saying goodbye.”

Pansy nudged at Harry’s side when the Carrow twin girls settled at the end of the Slytherin table. Daphne Greengrass groaned when Astoria skipped to sit beside her.

Theo shot her a glance. “Alright, Daph?”

“She was supposed to go to Hufflepuff. She’s nowhere near prepared to live in the snake pit.”

“Why not?” Astoria pouted. “You and Daddy are Slytherins, and Mamma always said she was sly for a Ravenclaw.”

“Because, Tori, you’re emotional, even for an eleven year old.” 

Astoria’s jaw dropped. “Well, that’s not fair! If Hadrian can have too much emotion and be in Slytherin, why can’t I?”

Harry coughed halfway through a swig of juice and turned to her with a frown. “We met for two minutes on the train, how do you know I’m overly emotional?” 

Ignoring her sister’s attempts for silence, Astoria beamed at him. “Daphne’s complained about you. A lot.” 

Harry’s gaze slid to the older Greengrass sister with a smirk. “Oh, really? Daph, I’m touched.”

“Shove off, Potter,” she replied, turning away in an attempt to hide her blush.

He leaned closer. “I don’t think I will. Were they all complaints? Have I gained no goodwill these past few years?”

Her blush was still present, but she met his look with a stubborn raised brow. “As far as I can recall at this moment? No. Definitely not.”

Harry’s smirk grew. “I’ll have to change that, then.”

Astoria rolled her eyes. “Can we eat yet? Hadrian, pass the potatoes, please.”

“Of course. Can I call you Tori?” He handed her the bowl.

“Did you hear me call you Harry? No. So, no, you can’t. Astoria is fine.”

Ron scoffed from where he was watching silently. “Yeah, I think she’ll be fine in Slytherin.”

Just as they began to dig into the meal, a shadow fell over the table. 

“Say, Potter, heard you fainted on the train? Poor little Potty, can’t even handle a single dementor.” Cormac McLaggen gave a toothy grin as he stood behind Astoria, who shot him a disgusted look and continued eating.

“You may not have fainted, McLaggen, but you didn’t seem nearly as brave when you came running into my carriage in tears,” Draco drawled from a few seats down. “You nearly passed out from hyperventilating, never mind the dementor passing by. Leave us to eat, will you? You’re putting me off my food.”

Cormac sneered. “No one asked, Malfoy, keep to yourself.”

“I’m trying, but I find it difficult when there’s such stupidity nearby. Goodbye, McLaggen.”

With a wordless growl, Cormac spun on his heel and sauntered away, not seeing the Weasley twins whispering with a grinning Lee, who stood and walked past McLaggen’s empty seat before pocketing a bottle.

Only a few bites into his meal, Cormac McLaggen stood and ran from the Great Hall, hands over his mouth.

 

They were lining up to leave, the first years obediently circling around the sixth year prefects, when Snape appeared from the shadows, one light hand landing on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry looked back at him and sighed. “I’m fine, I don’t need to see Poppy.”

“Then it will be a rather quick visit, no?”

“Professor-”

“Your little friends can wait for you in the common room. You lost consciousness, Mr. Potter. You will get checked out before retiring for the night.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll catch up with you. Save me a seat by the fire.”

Ron just waved his hand as he caught up with Pansy, Hermione following behind after giving Snape a shrewd look. 

“Okay, Harry. Send a note if you think it’ll take too long.”

“No runework tonight, Miss Granger, even if he stays the night,” Snape called after her, simply raising a brow when she turned back with a fake smile.

“Of course, Professor, wouldn’t dream of doing experimental magic outside of adult supervision.” She stalked away.

“Flint’s technically an adult now, yeah?” Harry asked the man, grinning when the professor actually rolled his eyes. 

“I had half a mind to simply pass him just to get him out of the castle, but I had a sinking feeling that wouldn’t have worked.” Snape gently pushed him forward. “To the infirmary, Mr. Potter.”

“You know you can call me Hadrian by now,” Harry complained, heading towards the stairs.

“Perhaps when I do not need to take a role of responsibility for you. Which, with the evidence gleaned in the past two years, will most likely be when you graduate. In this instance, I beg of you not to follow Mr. Flint’s conduct.”

Harry scoffed. “The only thing I would consider Marcus a good role model in would be Quidditch. Speaking of, is he going to be allowed to play? Let alone be captain?”

“That depends entirely on his behavior going into the season.” 

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them at the doors. “In, quickly, Mr. Potter. You should have been brought to me immediately.”

“Poppy, I’m fine. I’ve already had chocolate, and I’m not having any aftereffects.”

“You fainted, Mr. Potter. Usually that requires at least the night here.”

Harry froze as he perched on the side of his usual (yes, fine, he had a usual) bed. “Poppy, Madam Pomfrey, please, it’s the first night back!”

“The sooner you allow me to check you out, the sooner we’ll decide if you can return tonight.”

He shot a pleading look towards Snape, but the professor had already settled on a chair nearby, pulling out a book, ignoring the proceedings.

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Surely you can read in your own quarters, professor, I’m not likely to flee from Poppy just yet.”

“You’re to have a visitor, Mr. Potter, one that I would rather not leave you to your own devices with, given the happenings of the last month.”

Harry frowned, but was distracted by Madam Pomfrey’s detection spells.

She hummed as she looked at the results. “Well, I suppose it could be worse. Have an elf bring you a cup of hot chocolate before you go to bed, and if you feel even the slightest bit weak tomorrow, you’re to come by.”

He simply nodded along, still glancing over at Snape, who continued to ignore him.

“Your visitor should be here shortly. Just because you are in the infirmary does not warrant any actions that could cause either of you to need my aid. Understand?”

“Yes, Poppy,” he chorused.

She tsked at him and disappeared into her office.

As she closed the door behind her, Snape drawled from behind his book. “Keep your temper, Mr. Potter. Remember the power of your place.”

Harry shot him a frown, which turned into a cut-off groan when he saw a purple bowler hat duck through the floo of the infirmary. His mask slammed into place as Snape snickered. “Minister Fudge! What a delightful surprise!”

“Young Hadrian!” Fudge grinned at him as he adjusted his robes, dusting off the floo powder. “I had heard that there was an unpleasantness on the train this morning, and had wanted to apologize in person.”

“There’s no need, sir. However, I do question the need for such measures? I had thought that we had discussed the… circumstances around Sirius Black prior to my visit to Cairo.”

The minister sighed heavily, taking a seat behind Poppy’s desk. “I understand that there’s something amiss here, young Hadrian, but he is still an escaped prisoner. We have to take precautions until we uncover the truth.” 

With a glance at the professor, who was obviously (for a Slytherin) listening in to the conversation, Harry nodded. “That’s fine, Minister, I understand. I just want you to know that if his soul is taken before we are one hundred percent certain of his guilt, my lawyer will include you on line theft charges and conspiracy. And Gerard’s sister is a rather productive reporter for the Oaken Ledger.”

Fudge gulped. “I understand. You must do what you must.”

“As long as all parties understand.” Harry gave a neutral grin. “I do appreciate you coming to check in on me, Minister. You have no idea how comforting it is to have such a dedicated friend in the ministry.”

The man was clearly on edge, looking at the friendly face of a thirteen year old who had essentially just threatened him. “Of-of course, Hadrian.” He tried for a smile. “Do let me know if they cause any undue trouble. We are only concerned with the safety of the next generation.”

“Of course. Have a good evening, sir.”

“You as well, Hadrian. Professor Snape.” Fudge seemed shaken as he headed toward the floo.

Snape stood with a roll of his eyes as soon as the green fire had faded back to orange. “Sycophant. Spending a lot of time with your Uncle Lucius, Mr. Potter?”

Harry scoffed. “You say that like you’re not one of his very close friends. Godfather to his son, aren’t you?” He laughed when there was a light thwack on the back of his head.

“On the subject of godfathers…” Snape trailed off as they began their descent to the dungeons.

“Oh, shite,” Harry stopped, staring at him. “Of course, you would have known him. Lupin, too.” He sighed as he started walking again. “Is this a discussion we want to have in the middle of the hallway?”

Snape walked in silence for a few steps. “I would simply suggest being wary, Hadrian.”

Harry glanced up at his name, stopping when Snape did.

“Just because they were friends with your father does not mean they do not hold their own dangers.” 

“Anything specific?”

Snape’s lip curled. “I cannot say.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“Nothing you need know right now.”

“You are aware I absolutely abhor that phrase.”

“Can you see my heart breaking for you?” Snape’s face didn’t even shift a muscle. “Come along, I have a… speech to make.” 

“Can it be considered a speech if it’s less than two dozen words?”

“For my standards? Yes, yes it can.”

 

By the time Harry had settled in his usual spot in the Slytherin common room, the prefects had finished their tour and speeches to the first years, and the room was buzzing with conversation. No one seemed surprised to see Snape shoving a grinning Harry into the room.

“First years, welcome. Everyone else, be the role models you were raised to be, and don’t disappoint me. Good evening.” Snape spun on his heel, his robes almost floating eerily around him, and headed back out of the door, which hadn’t even closed yet.

“Is he always like that?” Astoria asked in the sudden silence.

She then giggled when the majority of the room echoed with some sort of affirmative.

People began to disperse, older years ducking out of the room to hunt down friends in other houses, younger years catching up with each other. 

Not even three minutes later, Neville crept through the door as a sighing seventh year moved out of his way.

“Nev! Escaping the lions already?” Ron called, snickering when Theo nearly knocked his ink bottle over at the name.

“Yes,” Neville sighed, settling on the couch next to a stiff Theo. “Some of the upper years didn’t seem to take McGonagall’s warnings about me very well.”

“What warnings?” Pansy asked, filing her nails from the windowsill nearby.

“Just about how last year wasn’t really my fault, and that I wasn’t to be held responsible. Greyson and Muller, a couple of sixth years looking for some modicum of power, took that as a challenge.”

They all leaned forward, Harry’s eyes glinting. “Anything we need to be concerned about?”

Neville rolled his eyes. “Not if the look in Fred’s eyes were anything to go by. I left before they could do anything, anyways.”

“Let us know if that changes.” Ron clapped a hand on Neville’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. What classes do you have tomorrow?”

Hermione immediately pulled out her schedule, chatting with Neville about their Herbology summer assignment.

Harry started to doze, until a loud cough jolted him awake.

He looked up sharply as Silas Lee appeared at the edge of their circle of chairs. 

He let his face soften into a politician’s smile. “Lee, how was your summer? Heard you got an internship at the ministry.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “For all the good it did me, yes. Intern in the archives, just sorting manuscripts into their various languages, and then by age.”

Hermione leaned forward eagerly. “Anything interesting?”

“Not unless you can speak Ancient Akkadian.”

She pouted.

“Anyways, Potter, I have a present for you.” Lee reached behind himself and pulled the shoulder of a scrawny first year, eyes wide behind glasses and a curtain of dyed hair.

Harry shifted, moving his elbows to rest on the back of the couch behind him, giving an air of comfortable arrogance, an aura of almost… power surrounding him. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Have another minion. They’re already trying to change the name of the entire school, and they’ve been here less than four hours.”

They blinked around at the group, all of whom were leaning forward in interest. “Um… hi?”

“Oh, American. That’s fun.” Pansy tilted her head with a smirk. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Rowan Matthews. And yes, I’m from the States. Boston. And before you ask, my folks are no-majs. Muggles. Whatever.” They adjusted their glasses. “Why am I a minion?”

Hermione closed her book with a snap. “That depends. Why are you changing the name of the school?”

Lee scoffed before disappearing back into a throng of upper years.

Rowan inhaled sharply before running a hand through their hair and starting to gesture widely with their hands. “Why is it called Witchcraft and Wizardry? That’s not even the kind of magic we do here, based on the books I’ve read. And it’s very gendered, which is stupid for people like me who don’t consider themself a witch or a wizard. Why not Arcane Arts ? Or Wixen Wonders?”

The small group fell into silence, shooting glances at each other with small smiles.

Rowan shifted uncomfortably, adjusting their glasses again. “I’m… I’m just saying.”

Hermione tapped a few fingers over the cover of her book. “You don’t care for the tradition of the name?”

“What good is tradition when it only caters to the few?” they replied, gulping at the slow grin that overtook Hermione’s face.

“Rowan Matthews, welcome to the revolution.”

 

An hour later, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were crammed underneath the invisibility cloak, having left the rest of their Slytherin friends shaking their heads at their stupidity.

Rowan was left at the mercy of Ginny, who was quickly taking to their apparent sarcasm and awkwardness, and was learning the more basic ropes of being a first gen in Slytherin.

Pansy had gone to find Draco, who was chatting with Daphne and Astoria about their summers in France.

Ron and Theo watched them leave worriedly, but parted ways at the second floor, as they headed up to the Ravenclaw common room to meet up with Anthony and Luna.

“Nev, you don’t have to come with us.”

“It’s fine, Harry. There’s no point in putting it off. My mindhealer says it’s better to face your past trauma rather than letting it control you. We know the diary is… well, dead. So as long as your snake friend doesn’t try to kill us, there’s nothing to be scared of down there.”

Hermione shrugged under the cloak.

Harry sighed. “Fine, you stubborn arse.” 

“Language,” Hermione called. “And quiet down, I think I hear Mrs. Norris.”

Harry dug in his bag. “Hang on, I think I have some catnip.”

Pulling out a few cat treats, Harry threw them down the far hallway, away from their path. “That usually works.”

“Don’t even put usually out into the universe, you’re going to jinx us.”

Neville shifted awkwardly. “I still don’t understand what you mean with that. How is that a jinx?”

Hermione sighed. “Neville, I promise I will explain muggle terminology when we aren’t hiding from faculty and skulking around after hours.”

“Fair.”

Harry pulled the cloak off of them as soon as they stepped through the door to the girl’s bathroom, tucking it safely back in his bag.

For a split second, as the rush of cold ran through him, he almost thought a dementor had gotten into the castle.

The giggle from behind him set him straight.

Harry sighed. “Hi, Myrtle.”

“Hiya, Harry. Was your summer as dreadful as mine?” The ghost pulled away from where she was drifting along his back.

“Nowhere near as horrible, I’m sure. You mind if we pass through to go down the passage again?”

She pouted. “Come see me again? Bring Luna.”

“Of course.” He gave her a slight bow and a wink. “Soon, I promise.”

A long slide later, they landed on the hard stone of the end of the entrance leading to the Chamber. “We’re going to have to fix that.”

Hermione rolled his eyes. “Not now. Come on.”

For the second time in as many months, Harry felt a strange sensation wash over him as he stepped over the threshold of the Chamber of Secrets.

It wasn’t the searing pain that the wards in Egypt, or even the overwhelming sense of safety and home that the main wards of Hogwarts sent through him.

It was almost… a curious wondering. A sense of testing.

“Harry?”

He just hummed as he walked, eyes skating across dirt-crusted walls and cobwebs across the ceiling.

“You okay?”

“It feels… different down here.” 

“How so?” 

“I… I’m not sure. It’s almost like… something feels like it’s calling to me…” 

Hermione and Neville shared a wide-eyed glance as dull balls of light began to brighten as Harry walked through, his fingers trailing along a wall that almost seemed to glow where he touched.

“It’s… It’s like it’s singing.” 

All three of them froze when a weighted presence appeared, a sound like water escaping through a burst pipe echoing around them.

“It’s your heritage, young Speaker. You have claimed the title of Heir of Slytherin, and the castle recognizes that. Especially in the halls of my oldest friend.” The basilisk peered out of the passage leading to her nest, milky eyes still crusted with healing tissue.

“Bai!” Harry grinned. “You’re looking very full. Did the house elves take care of you over the summer?”

Neville shook as Harry chatted with the snake.

“They fed me enough for many months, hatchling. How were your warm months?”

“Perfectly fine. May my friend check on your wounds?”

“I suppose. The one hatchling is giving off fear scent a bit strongly.”

Harry turned. “Nev? You okay?”

Neville simply nodded. “I… I guess I never really saw her. She’s… beautiful. Regal… Huge.”

Hermione snickered. “Am I good to heal her?”

“She already agreed.” As Hermione walked forward the basilisk with shaking hands, Harry turned to an empty spot beside him. “Dobby!”

A crack and the elf appeared, an elegant black robe affixed to him, made from an old pillowcase Harry had bought from a secondhand store on Diagon.

“Mister Harry called?” Dobby blinked widely at the massive snake currently laid prone as Hermione gently probed her eyes. “Mister Harry! Yous is with the snakey causing the problems!”

“Dobby, she was mind controlled. She’s perfectly friendly now. I’d like to ask you a favor, if you’re up to it.”

“Yous is my employer, Mister Harry. It’s not being a favor, it’s being my job.”

Neville hid a snort as he looked up at the architecture around the ceiling.

“In that case, can you stop by about once a week to check on Bai here? I’ll try to come myself, but if she needs food, which she probably won’t for a while, you’ll be more equipped to help her.”

Dobby was already nodding, a stubborn look in his eye. “If yous be coming down here, I’s be cleaning it up. Too much grime and gook.”

“I’d appreciate that, Dobby, thank you.”

The elf nodded again before disappearing with a snap.

Neville distracted himself by reading what he could from a few lists that lined the walls around the large bust that led to Bai’s nest.

Harry wandered back over to where Hermione was plastering Bai’s face with an anti-bacterial paste.

“Any pain?” He asked, sitting right next to the snake.

“None that will not pass with time. Your friend has a modicum of skill with healing.”

He grinned. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate the review.”

Silence fell as Hermione finished, tucking the paste away. “All done. I’ll come back in a few weeks and make sure it’s healing properly.”

“She says you’re doing well.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m sure. Are you done playing with your new friend?”

“Almost. Go see what Neville’s reading, he may be able to translate some of the older languages for you.”

She whipped her head around. “Nev?”

Harry watched her go with a smile.

“If you want to know more about being Heir, my master had kept a few books beyond the statue. Something may be of interest to you and your friends.” Bai shifted slightly closer to his warmth.

“Maybe another day. I’ll bring a few history-minded friends down to organize it.” He paused. “Do you mind? A bunch of us kids just hanging out down here?” 

The snake made a weird…almost clicking sound, that Harry realized was laughter. “My Salazar would have loved to see his sacred place cherished in such a way.”

Harry reached over to place a hand on her scales, bringing his forehead to rest near one of her shielded eyes. “May Salazar be with you, Bai.” 

She closed her eyes. “He walks the halls with every step you take, Hadrian James Potter-Black, Heir of Slytherin.”

“We’ll be back soon. I’ll have my house elf friend check on you when I can’t, let him know if you need anything.”

She hissed her agreement as she began to curl back towards her nest.

“Harry! Look! A lineage of the Slytherin line!” Hermione was scribbling in her notebook, names and dates that Neville was pointing out.

“Looks like it magically updates, you’re on here, Harry.”

Harry nearly tripped as he stood to go look.

“Hadrian James Potter-Black, born 1980, heir via rite of conquest in 1981.” He traced his own name almost reverently.

“Does this mean you get the Slytherin seat on the Wizengamot?” 

Neville rolled his eyes. “Rite of conquest doesn’t work in the court magics like that. Besides, those seats are there in memory of the founders, they haven’t held any power since the British-Turk wixen war of 1534.” 

“That doesn’t mean they can’t be reinstated,” Harry replied.

Harry and Hermione side-eyed each other. 

Hermione smiled a little too widely. “Ask Gerard?” 

Harry groaned. “Come on, let’s get to bed. We have Arithmancy in the morning, and I don’t want to be half asleep for it. Nev, are you heading back to the tower tonight? You’re more than welcome to crash on the couch in our year lounge.”

“Sure, if you think the others won’t mind.”

“No one will say anything. Ron finally outgrew Zabini this summer, he’ll just stand a little too close to anyone who has an issue. We’ll get Dobby to grab you a change of clothes in the morning.” Harry grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the stairs Bai told him led to right outside the Slytherin common room. “Hermione, come on, the history will still be here next time, and we’ll bring Millie to sort through it with you.”

She sighed with a fake sob and shoved her notebook in her bag. “Fine. But only because I want to reread the first chapter of the Arithmancy textbook.” She laced her arm in Neville’s free one. 

“You know, if this ever comes to light, you’ll be able to shut Macmillan down in his tracks.” 

“Is he going on about his vague connection to Helga Hufflepuff again?” 

“What do you mean again? That implies he ever stopped.”

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
not my OG's but i have a new fav OC in this chapter that i would murder for
speaking of favs you all are mine
please comment/kudos/share etc etc etc <3 :)

Chapter 7: More Classes, More Intel

Summary:

First day of school! First day of school!
A few new classes, the culmination of a few research projects, and the exhaustion of having /politics/ to deal with as teenagers.

Notes:

extra long chapter!
(i have a feeling i'll be saying that a lot from now on...)
i'm trying to walk the fine line of these kids being /kids/ and still dealing with politics... hopefully i'm not cutting through the realm of illusion too much...
also i soooo wish i could have taken these extra classes. arithmancy and runes sounds so cool, and i would never leave the CoMC class.
enjoy!

“I’m going to kill him.” 

“It’s Harry, Mione, he’s always been like this.” Ron, yawning, threw his arm around the back of her chair. “Besides, where would we be without him?” 

“Asleep.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Hey, Dobby?”

In a blink of an eye, Dobby was at their side.

“Yes, Mr. Wheezey?”

Ron ignored Hermione’s snorting laughter. “Can you get us some coffee, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Dobby snapped, and two steaming cups appeared in front of them on the table. “Is you needing anything else?”

“No, thank you Dobby.” 

Hermione inhaled deeply over her mug, even as her eyes skated across to further into the kitchen. “At least he’s having fun?”

Ron sighed. “He had to owl order a crate of muggle drinks just to get Tweak to let him at the oven. Hedwig ate all the bacon at breakfast yesterday in payment.”

“Where was I?”

“Ravenclaw table talking to Mandy Brocklehurst about some stageplay or something?”

“Oh, we were talking about the showing of Les Miserables in West End. I missed Hedwig hauling a massive crate?”

“Yep.”

They both watched in silence as a cloud of flour rose in the distance, followed by a scattering of peals of laughter and a single reprimand.

“Next time I’m sure it’ll be two.”

 

“Harry, you really should have eaten something. We were in the kitchens-”

“Hermione, it’s fine. I’ll eat something at lunch.” Harry grinned at her. “C’mon, I want to get good seats. Oh, look, Theo’s already here.” He ran ahead to look over Theo’s shoulder at a book on German arithmancy.

Ron knocked Hermione’s shoulder. “We’ll get Dobby to send us some snacks. It’s still the first few days. He’ll calm down and get back to normal soon.”

“Let’s hope.” She watched him down the hall, biting her lip. “Just… with Black escaping and everything…”

“I know. But all we can do is give him a safety net, and not force him to act like he’s better for our sake. That’s what that research you did says, right?”

She shot him a look and rolled her eyes. “Don’t use me against me. That’s not fair.”

“Did it work?”

“...yes.”

“Hermione!” 

They both turned to see a familiar figure lumber towards them.

“Vince! Are you taking Arithmancy?” 

Crabbe stopped next to them with a goofy smile. “I was always good at patterns. Lady Malfoy says I’ll really enjoy this class.”

“Lady Malfoy?” Hermione and Ron shared a look.

“Yeah, she tutored a few of us before we made it to Hogwarts. Made sure we were up to snuff on reading and the basics we needed before school.” He began to chuckle. “Otherwise you tutoring me and Greg last year would have been way worse. A lot of purebloods do something similar.”

“That’s so not fair,” Hermione whined, leaning into Ron with a fake frown. 

Ron scoffed. “Is too! We don’t have… what do you call them? Primate schools?”

Vince burst into laughter, and Hermione was clearly biting back a grin.

Ron, however, had no issue smirking.

“Primary school, and you know that.”

“Muggle words, so hard.” He shrugged, not even dampening his smile.

“Vince, let’s go bother Harry, and leave Ron to his ridiculous jokes.” 

Vince gave Ron a wink as he followed Hermione’s grip on his arm towards a now-waving Harry.

 

Arithmancy was… fun. Harry and Vince sat together, Hermione pulling Ron down right behind them. Professor Vector was one of the younger professors, only a few years older than Snape, and her passion for the subject was clear, and Harry couldn’t help but lean forward every time she went on a tangent.

When she mentioned that Arithmancy was technically a form of Divination, Harry turned back and looked at Hermione with wide eyes. She just shrugged and kept scribbling.

The worksheet she gave them to establish where they were with their knowledge was more of a puzzle than maths, and Harry had a near manic smile as he worked on it.

It was almost like number puzzles they’d assign for extra credit at his old primary school (not that he’d turn those in). But when Vector came around to check on their progress, she pointed out how his answers could be used to make predictions about the behavior of spells and rituals, even muggle astrology.

The look of awe he gave her made her burst into laughter, even as Ron groaned behind them.

 

Lunch had just begun when Harry was stopped halfway through a bite of roast beef by his name being shouted from the entrance of the hall.

“Hadrian, you’ve got to hear what Trewlawney predicted for Anthony’s future.” 

The Ravenclaw just rolled his eyes, so Pansy, with a wide, gleeful smile, continued. 

“She swears that he is going to risk his life for a higher power and be bound to them for the rest of his days.” 

Harry gave them both a skeptical look. 

Anthony shrugged. “Bit late for a warning. I signed the paperwork years ago to follow Hermione. If anything I’m just surprised it took this long.” 

The group around them laughed. 

“Mate, why are you even taking that? It’s not like you need an excuse for an easy O.” Ron shifted over so Pansy could sit and fill her plate.

Anthony nudged Theo over across the table. “Divination actually has all sorts of actual practices. Spell building, potion crafting… I guess I’m just hoping that if I ask enough questions about magical shifts in power due to the moon cycle, I’ll actually get an answer.” 

“Why don’t you just self-study and then take the OWLs anyway? Luna can help.” 

“Figured I’d give the class a shot first. Professor Flitwick already said I can switch out if I want as long as it’s before Samhain. Pass the chicken?”

Ron grunted as he passed it.

“Alright, Weasley? Not have fun in Arithmancy?”

“Numbers are exhausting and make no sense.”

“They do, Ron, you just haven’t learned how they work yet. It was the first class.” Hermione snapped her book closed.

“Even Crabbe figured it out!”

“And Vince is entirely hopeless at chess, which you have already won multiple competitions for. Just give it time!” 

Vince gave Ron an awkward smile from further down the table, having heard his name. “I can help, Weasley, if you want. As thanks for helping me with Transfiguration last year.”

“Maybe, Crabbe. Sorry.”

“No worries, mate.”

Harry flickered his eyes between his friends quickly as he inhaled his food. “As fun as this is, Care is going to start soon and I want to get there early.” He stood, chugging his glass of water as he does, before grabbing his bag and stepping over the bench.

Ron and Hermione instantly stood as well, Hermione handing Theo the book she was reading. 

He just waved her off, before turning to chat with Anthony. 

Pansy looked down at her food with a forlorn expression. “Well, fine.” She took a few rolls, quickly making sandwiches before standing and trailing after the three, who had gotten distracted with Neville at the entrance to the Great Hall.

By the time she had finished her to-go lunch, they were all stepping down the path to Hagrid’s hut, blinking in the late-summer air.

“Class isn’t for another ten minutes, Hadrian, why are we already heading down here?”

“No one said you had to come with, Pansy. We’re visiting Hagrid.”

“What can’t wait until he teaches our class in ten minutes, Weasley?”

“You’ll find out, since you’re following us when no one asked.”

“Claws are out, Weasley, wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Hermione elbowed Ron before he could respond. “Harry woke us up and we skipped breakfast. You’ll see why in a second. And we didn’t have a chance to nap.”

Pansy hummed with a smirk and skipped ahead to link arms with Neville, who was desperately petting his Monsters Book.

Hermione smacked Ron’s arm with her notebook. “Calm down. Was Arithmancy really that bad?”

“Yes, it sucked! I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking an actual class when I could have been with Anthony and Pansy in Divination.”

“I already told you we’d help you with the work, Ron, and you can always drop it. I’m sure Professor Snape will let you switch if you really want.”

“Yeah, but you and Harry wouldn’t be there.”

“No, no we won’t. We can do things separately, you know.”

Ron’s reply was cut off by a blur rushing towards Hermione.

“Hi!” 

They looked down to see Rowan, hair dyed a bright yellow and scattered with soil, wrapping their arms around Hermione’s waist.

“Hi, Rowan.” Hermione laughed as she hugged them back. “Just back from Herbology?”

“Can you believe there are singing flowers? Neville showed me after class, they’re in Greenhouse Three, they’re so cool!”

Flora Carrow sighed from a few feet away. “They were trying to teach the flowers some song from a muggle musical or something.”

“And of course Sprout was encouraging them. Even dyed their hair Hufflepuff yellow for them.” Hestia finished, holding out a bag towards their friend.

“I think it would be fitting to have singing flowers know The Secret Garden.” Rowan sniffed haughtily before bursting into laughter and taking their bag from Hestia. “Anyways, we’re off to lunch. Have fun with Hagrid!” They started to sprint up the hill towards the castle, where the other first year Slytherins were trailing.

The Carrow twins shared a tired look and bowed slightly towards Ron and Hermione before turning to follow.

Ron grabbed Hermione’s sleeve. “C’mon, we’ll miss Hagrid crying.”

“That’s not-” She sighed and followed.

By the time they walked through the open door to Hagrid’s cabin, Harry was lifted off the ground in a massive hug from the newly minted professor, who was indeed sobbing, Pansy taking a picture with one of the cameras the Grangers had sent for the Heralds to use.

Neville was calming the worried Dobby, who was watching the scene while wringing his hands.

On the table was a large chocolate cake, green icing carefully sculpted along the top and sides. 

Written in careful white iced lettering were the words Congratulations, Professor Hagrid!

 

The hippogriffs at the edge of the clearing were majestic.

At least, that’s what Harry thought.

Hagrid didn’t even have to ask for volunteers before Harry was raising a hand, asking if he could greet one.

The professor let out a hearty chuckle before he gestured Harry forward, walking him through the gestures needed to respectfully greet the hippogriff named Buckbeak.

Hermione cursed and Ron sighed when Harry climbed onto the thing’s back just a minute later, taking off to the skies.

“Once again, murder is a perfectly viable option to maintain our sanity,” Hermione hissed. 

Gryffindors and Slytherins alike laughed, some nodding, even while Ron reprimanded her.

“It’s better he learns under Hagrid than try to figure this out on his own and end up skewered.” 

Hermione just rolled her eyes and huffed.

As the rest of the class watched Harry fly, Millie tugged at Hermione’s sleeve.

“Oh, hi, Millie.”

“Hermione. Just wanted to let you lot know, I did as Hadrian asked. Did the research. Don’t know when he wants it.”

“Oh. I’ll let him know. Maybe be ready to come to the Nook tonight?”

“Nook?”

Ron leaned in. “That room we dragged you to when you told us about the Chamber last year.”

“Right. Sure.” She nodded awkwardly before stepping back, in line with where Pansy was chatting with Draco.

Hermione sighed. “This is either going to help, or make him feel even worse.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed as Buckbeak landed a few yards away. “But you’re the first to say the more information the better.”

They both gave Harry smiles when he jogged back towards them, a grin overtaking his face. 

“That was wicked!” he breathed, turning back to the hippogriff. “It was so different from a broom, feeling the power as he beat his wings… Awesome.”

As he turned, looking back at Buckbeak and where the other students had begun to greet some of the other hippogriffs Hagrid had brought, his grin fell.

“Ugly thing, aren’t you?” he heard Draco say, a small smile on the blonde’s lips as he looked at Buckbeak a few feet away.

Harry was moving before Draco even realized what had happened.

Cries echoed around the clearing.

The hippogriff in anger.

Pansy in fear.

Others in shock.

Draco in pain.

Harry in exasperation.

As Buckbeak landed back on four hooves, wings flared as he readied for another attack, Harry had tackled Draco to the ground, rolling them further away from the hippogriff as Hagrid lumbered forward.

Draco was near tears as he cradled his arm, blood blooming behind the crisp white of his uniform shirt. 

Harry sighed as he pushed himself on his elbows, looking to ensure their safety, seeing Hagrid and Greg Goyle pull at the chains of the hippogriffs. “Merlin help us. Someone get him to Pomfrey, please.”

Pansy pulled Draco up, sparing Harry barely a glance as she began dragging her best friend back towards the castle.

Harry fell back onto the grass with a groan.

 

“Ginny, you realize that not only are you in the boy’s lounge, you’re in the wrong year?”

She looked up at Theo’s tired expression from where she was sprawled on the couch outside of his dorm door, head in Pansy’s lap.

“Yes, I realize both of those facts. Do you realize I don’t give a shit?”

“Hey, Nott, stop teaching my baby sister bad language,” Ron drawled from his own doorway, having tossed his bag inside.

“If anything, Ronald, she’s teaching me.”

Ron opened his mouth, then sighed, closing it and nodding. “Yeah, that’s fair.” He turned to knock on the open doorway leading to Harry’s room. “Harry? Mate, time for dinner.”

“Yeah, coming.” Harry walked out, face only a few inches away from a letter.

Ginny sat up. “Who’s that from?”

“Gerard. Updates on the case now that Black has made the ingenious decision to escape.”

Harry’s friends all swapped looks.

“Anything we need to worry about?” Ron asked, a gentle hand on Harry’s elbow.

“While we’re stuck in school? No, not really. I need to write Flick.”

“Dinner first. You can talk to Susan about everything and make a plan.”

Nodding, Harry put the letter away. “Time to get the gang together. Nook, tonight. We need to talk about Black, and Millie has an update for us.” 

Pansy hesitated by the door, Ginny pulling Theo away. 

“Draco?” 

“No, not Draco.” Harry nodded Ron out of the room as well. “Not yet.” 

She stiffened. “Draco is a Black, is he not?” 

“Yes,” Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair, “but at the moment, he is more Malfoy than Black. Even after what Lucius did last year, Draco hasn’t quite been disillusioned with his father’s stance on things. Not fully. And until I have a better understanding of the Lord Malfoy and his machinations, I don’t want to take any chances.” 

She watched him for a moment. “You know the hippogriff was an accident. He talks to his dad’s peacocks like that. It’s… his misguided endearment.”

“I know, Pansy. I know. But it just shows his character. He was told to be careful, and still, risked life and limb without regard. How can I trust him to watch our back when he acts before he thinks?”

Pansy gave herself a second to sigh, a forlorn expression crossing her face, before she masked up again and nodded. “At your will.” 

She chuckled as Harry groaned and threw a balled up parchment at her retreat.

 

A sneeze made the half dozen Heralds look up from various books and notes. 

“How is it that a dozen of us are always tracking through Serpentine Hall but it’s still dusty?” 

Hannah grinned up at Ginny. “Old wives trick. I think it counts as hearth magic? Lowers suspicions. Bit of sage, bit of ash from a warm meal, and not even our footsteps show up in the dust. No one would ever think this place had anyone visit.”

Susan looked at Neville. “No twins?”

“Detention.” 

Theo snorted. “Already? It’s the second day.”

“They were apparently trying to offer McGonagall catnip as a way to get out of turning in their summer assignments. Taking the idea from Harry, of course. She wasn’t impressed.” Ginny tossed her hair with a grin. “Especially since they had Colin with them, as he’d brought the catnip from his house.”

“Do we think she was more upset about the catnip or the corruption of a second year?”

“Knowing McGonagall? The second. She’s probably still laughing about the catnip in her rooms, especially since she would have confiscated it.”

Harry cleared his throat pointedly. “Nev, you’ll update them with anything important?”

The Gryffindor nodded.

“Anyone have anything from summer to let the others know? Any news or concerns?”

Anthony adjusted his reading glasses. “I don’t know if you all are aware, but apparently there was some prison escape.”

While most of them burst into laughter, Hannah took a pillow and started to smack him with it.

“Not funny, Goldstein! That’s Hadrian’s godfather, and who knows if he’s safe!”

“Sorry, sorry! Stop!”

Harry summoned the pillow with a sigh. “It’s fine, guys. The adults are working on figuring that mess out, so let’s focus on our projects. Millicent?”

The room turned to look at Millie, who was standing awkwardly with a notebook crushed to her chest like it could shield her from the gazes.

She swallowed harshly. “Yes. Right.”

“Come on, Millie. Come sit.” Justin pulled out a chair at the table. 

Millie moved towards him, sitting stiffly on the edge of the chair. “So, before we left last term, Hadrian tasked me with researching a halfblood Slytherin named Tom Riddle. Who, as we now know, was the given name of the Dark Lord.”

A few of them hissed under their breath.

Others took a few things out of their bags, ready for notes.

Harry tapped his fingers along the armrest of his chair. “Any notes taken about this should be extremely well hidden. Either in this room or in a ward you trust with your life. Because this may turn into a life or death situation.”

Hannah sighed and put down her quill.

“Go on, Millie.”

“I asked Myrtle about her years as a student here, and got Longbottom to ask Hagrid a few questions as well, since they were both his classmates fifty years ago. The Dark L- ahem , Riddle was the main reason Hagrid was expelled, having used him as a patsy, and Hagrid still remembers him being charismatic, trustworthy, and an exemplary student and prefect.”

She paused at the looks she was receiving, blushing. “Yes, I embellished the language a bit. Anyways. Exact lineage unknown, but by the time he graduated, he was considered high in the Slytherin hierarchy.”

“Slytherins have an inner hierarchy? Like, outside of prefects?”

“Of course we do-”

“Guys, not right now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Sorry, Millie.”

“Um… No worries. Twelve OWLs, seven NEWTs, all O’s. Uh… Prefect, Head Boy, Special Services to the School award, that has now been redacted. A few class awards for ingenuity in potions and arithmancy. Uh… Muggle-raised halfblood at best, as he was returned to a muggle orphanage during his time at Hogwarts, even though the muggle world was just getting through what they called The Great Slump or the Devil’s Decade.” She paused. “As well as the muggle World War II, that was in part caused by Grindelwald. I wonder if that had any bearing on his mindset, being affected by that…”

“Millie, focus please.”

“Oh. Um, by all accounts, professors thought he was a bright student, if not a little intense in regards to perfecting the things he was interested in pursuing. Other students thought he was quiet outside of class, Slytherins saw him as an up and comer that somehow befriended or indebted heirs to most of the more prominent Houses. Started out with nothing, but gained respect and awe from his classmates only to end up leading them.”

“You found all this out over summer? Morgana, Millie.”

“I like research.”

“Isn’t it so interesting?”

“Hermione, later.”

“Anything else?”

Millie shifted. “He drops off after graduation. The only reference I find of him before the start of the Blood War in the 70’s was a short visit he made to Hogwarts almost twenty years after he graduated.”

“For what?”

“A job. A stray comment in the Slytherin journals stated that Riddle visited the common room for nostalgia before going to Dumbledore, who had just become headmaster, for the Defense position.”

She trailed off, looking around. “As far as I can tell, no Defense professor has held the job for more than a single year since.”

“The curse?”

“Twelve OWLs?”

“And continued on to eight NEWTs. All O’s. No wonder people followed him.”

“Only for them to end up kissing his hems in fear or insanity.”

“Crazy follows crazy.” 

“Merlin,” someone whispered.

“He’s not,” Harry replied, eyes distant.

The room turned to look at him, his first movement since Millicent started talking.

“We need to frame this in a more… truthful way. He’s powerful, sure. But he’s just a man.” Harry stood, glancing around him. “I am not afraid of him. I’m afraid of what he might do. Just like I am any other adult.”

“Hadrian, he killed your parents.”

“And he controlled yours, Pansy. I’m not defending him. I’m humanizing him. I’m not some miraculous savior. He’s not a demon, or an evil Merlin. We’re both lost orphans trying to find a place in the world. He just decided to use the power he gained to force the changes he wanted, whereas I’m trying to show people why change is good.”

No one moved.

Harry sighed. “We’ll talk to our older friends. Avery, Flick. Even a few others that we think can use this information without needing more. Theo, maybe a few of your cousins. We’ll find a way to spread this information that actually will do some damage. But that can wait for another day. Same with the discussion about Black. There’s nothing we can do from here, not until he makes his next move. Get some rest, we have class in the morning.”

Murmurs burst out quietly around the room. Millicent stood awkwardly, walking over to hand Harry a scroll before following Theo out of the room.

Hermione glanced at Ron before nodding towards Harry, who was bouncing a knee at the table while their friends began to file out, eager for their own beds. Ron followed her gaze and sighed, holding up a fist.

With a grin, she matched it and quickly won.

Ron frowned, staring at his flattened hand. “How do you always win?” he hissed, glancing at her scissors.

“Skill. I’ll be in the common room, Tracey and I are working on our transfiguration project. Bring me back something.”

Ron waved off her request as he stood and stretched, slowly moving towards Harry’s jittery form. “C’mon, mate, we’ll take the back way down to the kitchens, spend some time with Dobby and get some hot chocolate.” Ron looped his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry blankly followed, blinking still at the roll of notes Millicent had handed him. “This is… crazy. She even found out what orphanage he was from.”

Ron waited until they were in the secret passage before replying. “Her lord assigned her a project. Why are you surprised she did it to the best of her ability?” 

Harry’s eyes flashed. “I’m no one’s lord, Ronald.” 

“You will be. What do you think this is all for? I know once Riddle’s gone, once we get rid of the old crowd, you won’t really act on it. You’ll hand the power back over to your aunt, or Hermione. But you’re going to be a Grey Lord, Harry. We’re building up a faction in wartime. For all intents and purposes, you are our Lord.”

Harry sighed, and Ron could practically see him pulling into himself, shoulders hunching as his arms wrapped around his torso. “I didn’t want this. I just wanted to be a normal kid.”

Ron huffed, eyes searching around the passage for a room to duck into. Closing the door of the closet softly behind him, he pulled Harry into a hug, resting his chin on the top of his best friend’s head.

“I know, mate. This isn’t fair. But you’re doing so good.” 

Harry sniffled in his arms. “How do you figure?”

“You’re standing. You’ve got friends. You made it this far.”

“All good points.” Harry sighed, wiping errant tears.

Ron had never been more furious at the fact Harry had to learn how to cry silently.

“I guess…” He pulled back, just gripping one of Ron’s arms. “Some naive, childish part of me was hoping that we’d figure this shit out with Black, and he’d take over. I wouldn’t have to worry anymore, because he’d be making the decisions.”

“There’s still hope.”

“Only assuming Fudge is more scared of me than he is of the general public. He’s rescinded the kiss on sight order for the dementors, but who knows how long that’ll last.”

“I still refuse to believe you’d be willing to stand aside and let an adult handle your affairs. You still make Andromeda owl you before every vote.”

Harry chuckled, pulling back further to lean against the wall, before his expression fell. “It’s only the second day back, and I’m already exhausted.” He let his head fall back on the stone. “Thirteen sucks.”

They started back to the kitchens, walking in silence for a moment until Ron hummed. “You could always do what Snape does best.”

“Hm? Sarcasm and ire?”

“Delegate.”

 

(A few hallways away, Susan and Anthony watched their friends split paths, heading back to their various common rooms. 

“What are you thinking, Su? I could tell you had an idea, but obviously you didn’t want to mention it to the others.”

Susan clenched her jaw, eyes distant. “I hate to say it. And I only do because politically, this is a brilliant way to frame this.”

“Go on.”

She sighed, leaning back against the wall as her voice dropped. “He wants us to frame this in a way that even the people inheriting Riddle’s domination give it credence. The best way to do that? Frame it around  him.”

“What, against Hadrian?”

“Yes. Look, based on what Millicent said? Riddle was a muggle-raised halfblood sorted into Slytherin. People didn’t think twice about him until Riddle made them. Doing well in class, being a professor’s pet, having… insane amounts of power. Who does that sound like?”

It was Anthony’s turn to sigh. “You want to frame it like Hadrian is the second coming.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Muggle religion reference. You mean Hadrian is Riddle’s mirror.”

“Exactly. How better to turn people’s heads than to make it seem like Riddle isn’t special. Heir of Slytherin? So is Potter. Amazing feats of power even when he wasn’t raised in our world? So’s our lord. Already gathering followers and allies, from all houses and beyond the walls. What’s Riddle have that Hadrian doesn’t? Insanity?”

They both fell into silence.

“Ron might be the best bet to get them to think about this.”

“Ron? Not Hermione?”

He shook his head. “After the first few minutes of worry, Ron’ll be the one to see the logic in it. The strategy.”

She bit her lip, eyes flickering to meet his. “Do we tell them now?”

“You’d rather not? To start spreading rumors like that and not tell Hadrian himself?”

Silence fell again.

“Maybe we float it to Theo and Pansy first.”)

 

Professor Babbling was a short woman with an even shorter attention span, and her class was a whirlwind of different languages, symbols, and chaos.

Hermione and Harry were struggling to keep up, even with the irony of the main lesson being power from repetition.

Though they both were enjoying trying.

Ron, however, seemed to click into something halfway through the period, jumping back and forth on topics just as quickly as the professor.

He didn’t even groan when Babbling sat down with them to discuss their extra credit project-reworking runework on a wall to make wards blind to a specific area for a limited amount of time.

Essentially, Babbling wanting to know how the hell they broke into the Hospital Wing.

And if they could do it again.

 

“Shit.” 

Harry looked up at Theo’s curse, eyes immediately lighting on the small cluster of Gryffindor red lingering at the corner of where the Defense Hallway met the corridor towards the Central Hall.

“Ffff-... C’mon,” Harry sighed, dodging between older students to shove his way into the middle of the fray.

“-plus I heard you’re even rolling over to be some Slytherin’s bitch. Was Nott the one who got you to betray your House and set that monster loose last year?”

“McLaggen!”  

The corridor went quiet as Harry pushed past Muller and a sneering fifth year girl he didn’t recognize, eyes set for where a tired Neville was just blinking back at Cormac.

“Ah, Longbottom. Your master finally found you,” Muller snickered, grabbing Harry’s robes at the shoulder. “Come to watch the show, Potter?”

“Show’s over, Muller.” Harry grabbed his hand and twisted, like Marcus had taught him. Muller hissed as his wrist sprained, backing into the girl and away from Harry.

McLaggen loosened the hold he had on Neville’s own robes. “This is interhouse matter, Potter. Why do you care about some Gryffindor anyways? Stick to your snakes, that’s what you lot are good at.” 

Harry stepped forward, giving the boy a sharp grin. Cormac took an instinctive step back, not even watching as Theo pulled Neville away from him. “Snakes do take care of their own, McLaggen. But Nev here? He is one of mine. So when I say I take care of my own, I’m not just talking about those in green. I mean him. So back down and back off, or we’ll see if I can finally get McGonagall to give the Boy-Who-Lived a detention.”

“You won’t always be the golden boy, Potter. You’ll get yours one day.”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t be holding my breath.” Harry scanned the crowd around them. “I’d suggest everyone leave. Now. Before I start taking names and giving them to the Weasley Terrors.”

The group quickly dispersed, the few friends of McLaggen glaring at him as they went, most led by other Gryffindors.

Harry turned to see a jogging Dean, passing where Theo and Neville were talking in a whisper down the hall.

“Sorry, Hadrian. I was talking football with Terry Boot, didn’t realize what was going on. Luna came running by like a freight train, sent me up here. He alright?”

“Yeah. I think he’s more tired of it all than actually worried about anything. Hard to be scared of some teenage thugs when you had a teenage psychopath in your head all year long.”

Dean sighed. “Still, I’ll keep an eye on him.” 

“Don’t put yourself in danger or anything. Just let me or the twins know if things start to get bad, and who is the reason for it.”

“Of course.” Dean trailed off, watching Harry warily. “Are you alright?”

Harry gave him a wane smile and a pat on the arm. “Fine. How about West Ham, eh?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, shove off. As if Chelsea is doing much better.”

“Who’s Chelsea?” Neville asked as they passed, Harry and Dean leading them back towards the Central Hall. 

Harry burst into laughter as Dean sighed and began to explain muggle football to Purebloods.

 

“Hadrian, may I have a word?”

Harry looked up from watching Hermione research House Elves, of all things, to see Draco shifting back and forth on his feet at the edge of their usual spot in the common room.

“Of course, Draco.” He stood, stretching as he joined his cousin. “Let’s go sit by the windows, the Squid looks especially active today.”

Draco followed him quietly, sitting at the edge of the bench under one of the massive windows looking into the lake. 

“You have to speak to have a word with me, cousin.”

Draco blushed. “I wanted to…” He blinked back tears. “I wanted to apologize for Care yesterday. I acted impulsively and you risked your life to save me, and now Hagrid is under investigation and the hippogriff might be taken away, or worse-”

Harry gripped his shoulder with a small smile. “Calm down. I can only hope that my parents would have fought like this on my behalf. Just take it as a note that your father loves you, Draco.” 

The blonde scoffed. “He’s just doing it to disarm Dumbledore. To say that he’s hiring people that are a danger to students, that he’s unfit.” 

Harry just squeezed his shoulder tighter. “Let the adults argue over those things for now. Let’s go throw around a Quaffle.” He turned to the room, eyes landing on a swatch of red hair. “Ginny! Let’s go get you ready for tryouts!”

Her eyes lit up across the room, and she sprinted for her dorm.

Draco just nodded, standing, before looking back at him with a smirk. “You’re not one to let others do your work.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve been working on that. Apparently delegation is a key part of leading. Besides...” He matched his cousin’s smirk. “I did say for now.”

 

“Where are we going? I want to work on the Runes work.”

“We’re going to the library, Hadrian, calm down.”

“Oh. Why? We have plenty of books in our dorm.”

“Justin caught Pansy after lunch, said that he and Padma found something. They’re meeting us there. And then we can work on Runes while we’re in the quiet of the library, because if we try to do work in the common room, we’ll never get a moment’s rest. You have too many children.”

Harry scoffed. “Half of them only come around because they’re hoping to get a helpful lecture on their homework from you.”

“Liar,” Hermione replied as she rolled her eyes. “They just hope to sit in the circle and have you even glance at them.”

He groaned, leaning into her side as they walked. “I hate it. It takes weeks for them to forget that I’m no one special. And knowing my luck, as soon as they get over it, something will happen to remind them, and it’ll start all over.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You know, you’re actually growing. We’re the same height, for once.”

“Shut up,” he whined, trying to pull away from her, chuckling when she started laughing. “Now we just need to catch up with Ron.”

“I don’t think that’s likely.” She paused, considering. “Unless we take his legs off at the knees.”

His chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Where is he anyway?”

“Either chess with Professor McGonagall or bothering Percy. He said something about going to the Gryffindor tower and Neville is helping the twins with their Herbology project.”

“The twins are actually trying on a project?”

Hermione grinned. “George wasn’t that hard to convince, and once George was interested in the project, Fred grudgingly followed. All it took was phrasing it as a resource for a prank, and they were poking Neville for help every other hour.”

“You know, I feel like I should be worried about you.” Harry leaned in, poking her side. “You know how to play your friends like a harp.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault you lot are easy to manipulate. Besides, it’s to get them to do schoolwork, not take over the world.”

“Right,” Harry allowed as he held open the library door. “That’s for after graduation.”

“Oh, hush. Come on, I see Millicent.”

“Why does every time people tell me things anymore feel like a meeting of the council?”

“Because you’re paranoid and hate the fact people are doing you favors.” 

Harry jumped and spun around, glaring at Justin as the Hufflepuff came up behind them with a laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I be paranoid when you keep sneaking up on me!”

“I just walked in the door behind you.”

“I have been snuck up on!”

Hermione shoved both of their shoulders. “Shut up! Pince will kick us out, even if we’re Millie’s friends. And if I get kicked out of the library, neither of you will like the consequences.”

The boys quieted, before sticking their tongues out at each other and heading towards a table in the far corner of the library, where Millie and Padma were already sitting.

Padma looked up. “Justin, finally. Book, please.”

Justin hauled the Hogwarts Charter of his bag, causing a dull thud when it hit the table. “Millie practically threatened me to keep this safe.”

“It wasn’t practically, that was a literal threat to your life,” Millicent revised, scribbling on some parchment in between them.

He just shrugged. “It’s fair, honestly, this thing is older than dirt.”

Harry sighed as he collapsed in a chair opposite them, pulling out his Runes notes. “You said you found something?”

“Yep, put off the first Herbology assignment to research yesterday.”

Hermione gasped. “Justin, don’t skip homework! This can wait!”

“I finished it at breakfast, Hermione, don’t worry. Besides, it’s Sprout. She would have given me an extension if I needed it.”

“Still!”

Harry patted Hermione’s hand distractedly. “Guys, point?”

“So, obviously this is a translation of the original charter. The actual manuscript is kept in Ministry archives.” Millie set down her quill and pulled the book over to herself. “It’s still incredibly old. Hence the need for precautions.” She glared at Justin.

“Hey, I delivered it in perfect condition! At least in regards to the manner in which it was given to me.”

Millie rolled her eyes. 

Justin ignored her to pull out his notes. “But whoever translated it also added a bunch of historical context. There’s so much interesting information in this! Like, did you know, the mascots of the houses were the patronuses… patroni?” His voice lowered, as he began to murmur to himself. “Patronuses? What would it be?”

Harry sighed. “Focus.”

“Patro-oh, sorry. Right. The mascots are the patronuses of the founders.”

“Oh, wow.” Hermione leaned forward. “Poor Rowena, having an eagle be her patronus when she literally had raven in her surname.”

Padma twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I’d like to think she enjoyed it quite thoroughly.”

“Why?”

Her smile grew sharp. “Irony. The Ravenclaw’s favorite form of wit.”

The boys both scooted slightly further from the look on her face.

“So the sword?”

Padma flipped open her book, Justin leaning into her to scan over her shoulder as she explained. “I mean, all of the founders had something goblinmade as family heirlooms. Most prominent families did back then, it was before the tensions between wix and goblins got so antagonistic. But that was their family-there’s nothing in the school charter in regards to those. I think the sword just got left at the school rather than the family continuing to pass it down, probably because the line of succession was unclear.” 

“So what does it mean that it appeared to me down there? I’m not the Heir of Gryffindor, too, am I?” 

“Doubtful, mate.” 

“Well…” Everyone turned to Millie, who paled at the attention before clearing her throat. “Some of the older history books believed that you were. That the Potters, through the Peverells, had married into the Gryffindor family.” 

“Didn’t Draco mention that last year? When he was defending you from Montague?”

“I guess I can ask Griphook? Surely the goblins keep track of things like that.” 

“Are you going to tell him about the sword?”

He hesitated. “I feel like I should.” 

“You’re far too righteous to be a Slytherin, Potter.” 

Justin leaned forward. “Is it righteous doing the right thing, especially when it moves your own plans forward? Both in the wider world and just so Harry isn’t the only Slytherin who can’t see house lines.”

“At the sake of making powerful enemies? Yes. Maybe too much.”

Watching a gleeful Rowan, a muggleborn Slytherin, chatting with a Gryffindor a few tables away without any hesitation or fear, Harry smiled softly. “Nah, I think I’m just righteous enough.”

Notes:

poteatthegeek everywhere you can find
not my world, just playing in the sandpit
kudos, comments, shares much appreciated!
(year 1 just hit 40k hits!!! much love for you all!!!!)
<3 :)

Chapter 8: Opening Old Connections

Summary:

Day two of classes.
Which means DADA.
No one knows what to think about the naive but keen professor.
And the twins come forward with a prized possession to share with their friends.

Notes:

SORRY IT'S SO LATE!!!
i decided as i was editing that i didn't like the patronus scene, so i ended up completely rewriting it, and then my adhd kicked in and i was three compilation videos of dimension 20 deep before i remembered it was friday and i had to finish the chapter.
but here it is!
i was trying to think back to when i was thirteen. sure, i was scared of the usual things, like the moon from Majora's Mask. but that wasn't my /biggest/ fear. that was letting myself be molded into something i wasn't due to peer (or parental) pressure.
why would we expect these kids, many of whom were raised with politics and on stories of /THE DARK LORD/, to have their fears be belittled?
anyways. rant over.
enjoy!

Neville looked up wearily at the loud thunk of a heavy bag landing on the worktable next to him. He blinked. “I know you want to make a statement about supporting me in regards to last year, but you don’t have to ruin your potions grade for me, Harry.” 

Harry scoffed as he sat down, waving off a petulant Theo. “I’m not. One, I don’t think there’s anything I can do that would make Snape fail me. And two, not to be too offensive, but reacting and predicting what chaos you cause is the best practice I could ask for.” 

Neville narrowed his eyes. “I’ll choose to just be thankful that you’ll be bringing my grade up.” 

“Good choice. Do you want to prepare the ingredients or add them?” 

“Which will you be less likely to be frustrated with my attempt of?” 

Harry laughed, knocking their shoulders together. “Don’t worry, Nev. I’ll teach you.”

“Isn’t that my post, Mr. Potter?” 

Neville’s face fell just as Snape’s shadow fell over the two. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “And you do such an illustrious job, Professor. But surely you agree that the… subtle art of potion making might require a secondary view for some.”

Snape ignored Neville’s eyes flickering between them to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just… keep the explosions to a minimum during class hours this year, if you would. I am not yet sure if you two together will make that more or less difficult.”

“Is there a specific definition of minimum you’d like us to follow, sir?” Harry gave him a winning smile.

“Next to none.” Snape left their table to stalk to the front of the room. “Settle. We’ll start today with seeing if any of you managed to retain even the slightest amount of knowledge about last term. Make a wiggenweld. You should be able to do that without bothering me. Go.”

Neville gulped.

Harry grinned.

 

“Well, yeah, Harry, of course it makes more sense when you explain the potion in terms of the ingredients. But that’s not what the exam is.”

Harry nodded at Ron and Hermione heading across the room with the other Slytherins as he walked with Neville to the Gryffindor table.

“That’s the point, Nev. You learn it however you can, which in your case is in terms of the plants, and then when you understand it, you learn for the exam.”

“There’s just so much… How am I supposed to remember which potion is ten strokes deasil and which is twelve widdershins?”

“You have to think about each potion as its own box. While you’re learning, don’t compare. Memorize. Being able to decide one over the other off the cuff is what the NEWT prep classes are for.”

Neville groaned as they both settled at the table, George moving over to allow Harry as an out of place Marcus moved closer to Oliver so Neville could sit.

Harry rolled his eyes as Fred pushed a plate of fruit towards him, but started serving himself. 

As he ate, Harry tuned out of the conversation, but looked up at Neville gasping at some scrap of parchment over Fred’s shoulder. “Where did you even get that?”

George laughed. “Nicked it from Filch our first year.”

“Got caught with some dungbombs and he dragged us to his office.”

“Peeves made some chaos and he left us alone.”

“We had to do something to pass the time.”

"Rifling through his confiscated items did the trick."

“Lo and behold, a piece of parchment that, with some fancy words, turned into a map.”

“And with some not fancy words, ridiculed whoever was holding it.”

“Filch didn’t need it.”

“And we’d like to think that Prongs and his friends would have been proud of us reclaiming it.”

“Wait, Prongs?” Harry leaned forward, shoving his half-eaten sandwich away, pulling out his notebook and flipping through pages back to his notes on the journals he’d read from his family vault.

Fred spun the map around, letting Harry scan the names adorning the top of the closed parchment. “Is that… Do you know that name?”

Harry looked up at the twins with a grin. “That’s my dad.”

The twins looked so gobsmacked, Percy stopped beside their group to check on them.

After their brother had wandered off, the twins turned to each other, somehow speaking without words.

A second later, they both nodded before speaking in unison. “It’s yours.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Fred nodded. “We were planning on giving it to you anyways. Better for you to keep an eye on things like ickle little Neville here if you knew where he was.”

“Luna, too,” George added, having heard from the Ravenclaw Avery about some of her issues with upperclassman the year before.

Harry grinned before leaning down to grab his bag. “Time for research.” He stood, eyes scanning the hall. “Where does it say Anthony is? I don’t see him.”

Neville grabbed the map. “It’s hard to tell, is there any kind of focusing feature?” He grabbed his own bag blindly. “Oh, there he is. Nook, of course. Should have looked there first.”

He headed towards the door, the other Heralds at the table scrambling to follow. Harry took the map from Neville’s outstretched hand.

Justin, having seen them stand and leave from a little ways up the Hufflepuff table, jogged up behind them. “What’s going on?”

Neville turned with a grin. “The twins have been holding out on us.”

George rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we knew it was Harry’s da’s. If we gave away all our secrets, what fun would we be then?”

“Even without context, I think you’d still have plenty of fun in store.” Justin rolled his eyes, trying to peek over Harry’s shoulder. “What is it?”

Fred wrapped an arm around the Hufflepuff’s shoulders. “Just a little map.”

Justin glared at him. “And what does the map do?”

“It shows you where things are, of course,” Fred started.

“And maybe a person or two,” George continued.

“Or everyone,” they chanted together.

Justin’s eyes went wide. “It shows the location of people inside of the castle? Live?” He pulled away from Fred’s arm and tucked his own through Harry’s as they walked, unspoken, towards the Nook.

Harry pushed the door open loudly, startling Anthony, who blinked up from his book at the intrusion. 

“Oh, shit, is it lunch already?”

“Well, it works.” Neville laughed. “Free period?”

Anthony had already forgotten about lunch and instead was standing to join Harry and Justin in staring at the map unfurled on the table. 

“What in Morgana’s name is that.”

Fred and George settled on the couch, pulling out a notebook while the others started spiraling with questions across the room.

Books flew from the shelf against the wall, Anthony having perfected the summoning charm at his cousin's house that summer.

“Do you think, if you had like, a timeturner, would you show up twice?” 

“Do ghosts show up? Or can you alter it to include them?” 

“Do creatures show up? If they’re magical, and named?” “If not, does your name disappear if you’re an animagus and shift?” 

“I’ll pay you twenty quid to ask McGonagall that.” 

“What’s a quid?” 

“Bloody hell, five galleons. Whatever.” 

“Not on your life, mate.”

 

“Wait, you’re not taking a language?”

Harry snagged his schedule back from Hermione as they waited outside of the Defense classroom. “Definitely not this year. I’m keeping on Latin for spellcrafting, Padma swears my Hindi is veering away from atrocious, Bai is thinking about teaching me how Parseltongue can be used in spells. I’m not going to worry about French right now.”

Hermione sighed. “But the class is going to be so boring without you.”

“It’s going to be boring with me, too, Mione, because you’re already fluent. Why are you even taking it?”

“I’m not fluent, I’m barely conversational.”

“You and Draco had an hour long discussion about whether Da Vinci was a muggle or wix, completely in French, at breakfast this morning.”

She rolled her eyes at his expectant look. “...Alright, fine. Maybe I should drop it.”

The door opened, Lupin walking through it before closing it behind him. He looked around at the students staring back, and he grinned. “Follow me. We’ll start the year with a practical lesson.”

He left them staring after him, before Ron snorted and began to follow, pulling Neville along by the elbow. “I’ll take that over taking notes.”

The class followed, whispered conversations starting as they watched their professor whistle to himself a dozen steps ahead.

At some point, the shabby professor cast some spell that made Peeves go shrieking out of sight, leaving the Gryffindors in awe and the Slytherins apathetic.

Hermione leaned into Harry’s side as they walked just behind Ron and Neville. “Remember when you told me off for trying to set your uncle on fire with my mind?”

Harry’s glare didn’t leave the professor’s back. “Hmm?”

“If I couldn’t manage spontaneous combustion, I don’t think you will. As powerful as you may be, Potter, fire is my thing.” She poked his side, causing him to glance her way.

He rolled his eyes with a small smile. “Yeah, yeah, pyro.” He knocked their shoulders together as they followed Lupin into the professor’s lounge that he and Ron had snuck into the year prior.

Most of the class froze just inside of the door, seeing a sighing Professor Snape snap a notebook closed from an armchair in the corner of the paneled room.

“Leave the door open, Ms. Greengrass, I’d rather not stay for this.” Snape rose and stalked across the room with a sneer. “I can only see Longbottom ruin a lesson a certain number of times a day, and I’ve already reached my limit.”

Neville flushed nearly as red as Ron’s hair next to him.

Harry shot Snape a fierce glare, which was ignored, before subtly stepping in the man’s path and knocking his notebook out of his hands. “Oh, so sorry, sir. I must have tripped over your standards for goodwill towards students.”

The room froze, even Lupin looking at their interaction with wide eyes.

Snape’s nostrils flared. “Detention, Potter. Tonight. Before dinner. For disrespecting professors.” 

“Of course, sir.” Harry gave a mock bow as Snape rolled his eyes and continued his march out of the room.

Lupin awkwardly shifted up front. “Well, back to the lesson. The reason I’ve brought you all here-the wardrobe here at the back.”

Tracey made her way to Harry’s side while Lupin warned them of the effects of boggart exposure. “You know, you may be the only student this school has ever seen that can get away with a comment like that towards Snape.”

Harry rolled his head to meet her gaze with a smug grin before it faded and he sighed. “Yeah, he’s going to make me do ingredient prep for the first years again. It sucks. You always have to do like, three times the amount they actually need because they’ll mess it up.”

She snorted before stepping back to Daphne just behind him.

“Now, there is a special spell used for boggarts, so let’s not set anything on fire, even if you have a penchant for fire charms.” Lupin winked at Harry and Hermione as he turned his back to the class.

The two instantly turned to each other with startled looks. 

As the professor began explaining the ridikkulus spell, Hermione leaned into Harry, barely even breathing in his ear. “Did he hear us from outside the classroom?”

Harry turned his head against hers. “Maybe some kind of amplifying spell?”

“So we need to learn muffling spells of some sort. The opposite of sonorus?”

“But at what point does that make the other person have trouble hearing as well?”

“So an area of effect spell?”

Harry pulled back to narrow his eyes. “Did your dad make you play that Dungeons & Dragons game again after they got back from America?”

She hid her snicker in his shoulder, ignoring the professor’s pointed cough from the front of the room.

“Mr. Longbottom, why don’t you start us off?”

Harry instantly dialed back in, noticing in quick progression the stiff line of his godbrother’s shoulders, the eyes of the entire class on him, and the professor’s eager grin.

He took a step forward, stepping around Ron to stand slightly in front of Neville. “I’d like to think we would all do with some instruction before we face a creature in front of the entire class.”

Lupin blinked at Harry’s sudden entrance to the lesson. “Ah, Harry. I’m sure Neville will do wonderfully-”

He trailed off as Neville stepped further behind Harry, Theo coming up on his other side to block him more. 

“It’s only fair, sir. You’ve about to see all of our boggarts.” 

“This isn’t a power play, Mr. Nott.”

Many of the Slytherins stiffened at the clear change in tone as he addressed Theo. 

Harry gave a fake smile. “Everything is a power play in our house, sir. You expect us to relay our deepest fears in front of each other. Many of us will most likely have fears that are easy ammunition for others. The least you can do is give a… proper demonstration.”

It was clear to the students that Lupin wasn’t expecting much from them. But with the expectant eyes of an entire class in front of him, he nodded and opened the wardrobe with a flick of his wand. Fog poured out from the doors, pooling and rolling and flickering, until the professor stepped forward, and the cloud rose, the room darkening as the boggart became an orb of haunting light.

Seamus Finnegan burst into laughter, trying to turn it into a cough when Dean smacked his arm. 

Lupin clearly pronounced riddikulus, and the orb turned into a squealing, leaking balloon that darted around the room before settling on the floor once more.

“There we go. See? Easy as anything. But if you don’t wish to, you don’t have to. It can be rather intimidating.”

No one moved.

Harry rolled his eyes as he pulled away from the crowd, not even glancing at Lupin as the balloon twisted. A second later, Ron and Hermione stood in front of him, staring at him like the Dursleys so often did, scowls and disgust as they turned their backs and walked away. He hesitated, for a second, before blinking back and shrugging. His spell shot through the air, and the Ron tapped the Hermione on the shoulder as he ran forward, her laughing as she followed.

The room went quiet again, before the Gryffindors decided they were brave enough to take their turns.

Seamus made a sickly banshee lose her voice mid-wail.

Parvati’s mummy tripped over its own wrappings, its head rolling across the floor to land at Fae Dunbar’s feet.

A rattlesnake writhing.

A single bloody eyeball, iris darting around.

The Slytherins began to join in the growing line, many still with concerned expressions.

Hermione stepped forward. The smell of fire on the air, and she saw herself, alone, in her usual muggle clothing, kneeling and clutching a broken wand. A whisper reaches her. “You could have done more if you’d actually tried.” Her hand shook as she cast.

Theo turned a tall figure with his jawline and eyes into a morbid puppet, the strings making him move in a jagged dance.

A horrific clown, dripping red paint so dark it looked like blood.

Daphne started to sob as the boggart turned into a smaller girl with her platinum hair, the girl decaying rapidly in front of her. Tracey glared at Lupin as she pulled her friend away, leaving the room entirely.

An ogre, almost too tall to be in the room, odor rolling off of it in droves.

Some American actress with a bloody axe and a grin.

Ron gripped his wand so hard his knuckles turned white as the boggart turned into himself. As they watched, the figure grew older, features altering slightly until he looked just like Bill. But it was Ron’s voice that came out of the forced smile. “Yes, I’m a Weasley.” The tips of Ron’s ears turned red before he pocketed his wand and turned away fully.

Lupin called for Draco, who was leaning against the wall in the far corner. “Take points if you must, sir. I’m not doing that.”

“Neville, then. Finish us off.”

Neville stepped forward. A small, nondescript black book landed on the floor with a thump, the cover opening slowly, a quiet hissing echoing through the room. Some of the Gryffindors snickered. Neville ignored them and cast riddikulus, the opening book turning into a copy of the Monsters Book of Monsters, snapping at the Gryffindors’ feet viciously. 

Neville turned to Lupin with dull eyes. “Are we done?”

The professor shifted, eyes flickering among the students. “Yes. Back to the classroom, we’ll go over the textbook’s information.”

The walk back was dead quiet, not even Lupin trying to engage with the students. At one point, Ron tried to whisper into Hermione’s ear, but she shook her head, pointing to her ear and Lupin’s back. Ron frowned but nodded.

They filed back into the classroom, Hermione grabbing Harry to sit in between her and Ron at the back row of desks.

As he stared into the wood in front of him, a piece of parchment made its way into his eyesight with Ron’s crooked writing. 

He could probably teach you the Patronus.

Hermione leaned into his side, reading it as well. 

Harry pulled out a pencil. But would he?

For all we’ve heard, he would have been a close family friend. Maybe if you use that, he would. He seems… Hermione hesitated before continuing. Naive, maybe? When it comes to seeking good in people?

Harry snorted. You got that from a single class?

She flicked his side. If he isn’t, he wouldn’t trust Dumbledore after the chaos of that Halloween. 

And what about Professor Snape’s warning? Not to trust him?

Ron leaned in. We’re not saying trust him. We’re saying use him.

I don’t know… Harry looked at them both with amusement in his eyes. Seems rather… ridiculous.

Hermione groaned as Ron snorted.

At the front of the room, Lupin cleared his throat. “You three, in the back. Have anything to share with the class?” 

Hermione straightened with a genial smile. “Just discussing the differences between the boggart you showed us today and the boggarts in muggle mythology, sir. The lore is quite different, you know. We didn’t want to bother anyone, so we were writing our observations down.”

Lupin raised his eyebrows. “Oh, were you? Surely you won’t mind bringing it up for me to read?”

“Of course, sir.” She made no move to get up.

Not breaking eye contact, Hermione prodded the page with a finger, and the corner of the parchment burst into flame, quickly turning the entire sheet to ash.

“Oh no,” she intoned, still staring at the professor. “How ever did that happen?”

The rest of the room burst into muted giggles, with only a few murmurs about wandless magic under their breath. 

She was Granger, top witch in their year. She was a Herald. One of Potter’s. (Or was he one of hers?) Of course she knew wandless magic at almost fourteen.

Lupin kept his brows raised, looking impressed, even as he took off points from Slytherin for disrupting a lesson.

The class kept snickering for the rest of the period until the bell rang and they all began to gather their things.

Before anyone could leave, Harry leaned over Ron to nudge Pansy. “Hey, we need a distraction. Go talk to Neville and make it loud.”

Pansy grinned. “I can do loud.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy ducked through the crowd and a deafening crash reverberated throughout the room. As Pansy apologized profusely (and loudly), Hermione quickly leaned into Harry’s side, voice dropping low.

“Harry, I know you’re mad. And you have every right to be. But for now, he offers us a layer of protection with the staff, a way to learn more. We should take advantage.” 

“I don’t know if I can trust him.” 

“Neither do we, mate. But we can use him until we figure out if we can or not.” Ron dusted the ash from the desk.

Harry stomped his foot. “Why can’t we just ask Snape? You know he’ll know how, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier than suffering through being nice to Lupin.”

“No one’s asking you to be nice, Harry. But we need to see whose side he’s on, and this is the most straightforward way.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine. I guess I should get used to doing things I don’t like. Fudge was just the start, after all.” 

The other two grinned as they packed up, Ron picking up Harry’s bag as he followed Hermione out of the door, tugging at a stray strand of her hair as he asked her a question about muggle boggarts.

Lupin looked up, as Harry approached, smile wide, but wary. “Mr. Potter, can I help you with anything? Exemplary show with the boggart, surely you don’t have any questions that weren’t answered with your note-taking skills.”

Ignoring the not-so-subtly jab, Harry didn’t hesitate. “I want to learn how to fight dementors.” 

The man sighed, perching on the edge of his desk as he faced Harry. “Mr. Potter, I don’t think you need to worry about them attacking you or anything of the sort.” 

“I shouldn’t have had to worry about a lot of things in the past few years. Dementors are an unknown at the castle this year, but one I can learn to manage. If you don’t want to teach me the patronus, I will learn it on my own.”

“May I ask why the urgency?”

Harry worked his jaw, deciding that a harsh truth outweighed the Slytherin play with the Gryffindor in front of him. “I’d rather not run the risk of hearing the death of my parents on repeat anytime one of those things comes near.”

Lupin inhaled sharply, eyes immediately watering. “I… I assume that’s what you heard on the train?”

“...Yes.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll teach you, Mr. Potter. It won’t be easy.” 

Harry scoffed. “I never expect anything in my life to be easy, sir.”

The professor hesitated, moving one leg to cross the other. “Are you usually this on guard with the staff?”

“Only when I feel slighted by them, sir,” he responded with a sarcastic, wide grin.

He blinked. “Slighted? Harry-”

Harry threw up a hand. “I know you were supposed to take custody of me if Black was unable. That the Ministry deemed you unfit to care for me for some undisclosed reason. So how in the name of Nimue and Morgana are you allowed to teach children?” 

Lupin blanched, clearing his throat as he sat up straighter. “Albus Dumbledore has friends in high places, and plenty of reach. He-he called in a few favors.” 

Harry clenched his jaw. “Right. Reach. And yet I’m stuck with muggles every summer.” 

“You seem to be doing well for yourself, Harry.” 

“Hadrian, sir, if you must. I don’t feel comfortable with you using my nickname. And I shouldn’t have had to work this out for myself, sir. I was a child, fighting for the right to have any chance at a normal life. My only job should have been living it. ” 

“Harry- Hadrian, your parents were my closest friends. If there was anything I could have done, I would have. But Albus-” 

“Exactly, Professor. Albus. It seems as though your loyalty to the headmaster’s wishes outweigh your loyalty to my parents. They may have forgiven you for that. But I suppose neither of us will ever find that out for sure.”

The room was silent, only Harry’s harsh breathing echoing against the empty desks and creature skeletons.

Lupin moved a hand up, rubbing seemingly at a beard that was no longer there. “I… I don’t know what to say, Hadrian. I… Perhaps this year, we can at least get to know each other? As I said, your parents-”

“I am not a replacement for James and Lily, Professor. But I am not above using what resources are available to me. The patronus?”

Harry stiffened as he noticed Lupin’s eyes fall to the snake crest on his robes.

“Yes, of course. Let me know what evening would work for you.”

“I’ll have to work around my tutoring with Professor Snape. I’ll be in communication. Professor.” He bowed briefly, and left the man standing in a mire of shame and guilt in the empty classroom.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Harry smacked the back of his own head before turning the corner, where his friends were waiting.

“Well?”

Harry gave Ron a wince. “This is why we usually let Mione do the talking.”

Hermione groaned. “Harry. Is he going to teach you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Honestly, I think I may have done too good a job with the guilt trip.”

“Enough for you to think about forgiving him?”

“Ron, I know you’re on this whole reunite the family kick with the Prewetts and the Weasleys, but this isn’t a connection lost to time. He left me. He took the Ministry’s word over the word he gave my parents, and left me in that hellhole. It’ll be a while before I think about forgiving him.”

The redhead sighed, throwing an arm over the other boy’s shoulders. “As long as you aren’t festering the grudge, I’ll take it for now.”

“Okay, Hufflepuff, whatever you say.”

“Y’know, I don’t think that’s accurate. Hufflepuffs can hold grudges more than anyone else, honestly.” Hermione piped up, not even looking up from scribbling in her notebook. Harry could barely see the words Where has Lupin been before she flipped the page and scanned the schedule she had painstakingly written on the hardcover of the book.

“Okay, fine. Lightheart.”

“Now you’re just flirting.” Ron grinned, aiming to poke Harry’s side.

Harry flushed, and with a murmured, “I’m late for potions tutoring,” started walking away, ignoring his friends laughing after him.

 

It was rather unusual for someone to be lurking outside of Snape’s classroom after hours.

Someone that wasn’t him, that is.

But when Harry turned the corner, still flushed from Ron’s teasing, he was startled to a stop at a small figure straightening up against the wall. 

“Hey, Potter. Detention again?” Hestia Carrow gave him a grin.

“Tall Carrow. I always have detention with Professor Snape. It’s almost like he doesn’t approve of experimenting in class.” Harry shook his head. “I take notes about it and everything.”

She giggled as the door to the classroom opened, revealing a sniffling Rowan.

“Hey, Boston. You okay?”

Rowan gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. Just need a good night’s rest. Thanks, Hadrian.” 

Harry reached to tousle their hair as they passed, before giving Hestia’s outstretched fist a tap. “Eat dinner, first, and don’t forget your veggies!”

“Not our dad!” Hestia called back.

Harry chuckled as he ducked through the now open door to Snape’s classroom.

Before he could even greet the professor, he froze at the look on his face.

A scalding look.

One that hasn’t worked on Harry since halfway through his first year.

“What’s up?” He tossed his bag on an empty table, settling on top of one in front of Snape’s desk.

“I fully place the blame for this on you, I hope you’re aware.” 

Harry shrugged. “That’s probably fair, but what this time?” 

“Other… children,” Snape hissed, making Harry bite back a giggle, “have begun to ask me things.” 

“You’re our head of house, why wouldn’t they?” 

“Nonacademically.” 

“Oh, the horror.” 

Snape glared again. 

“Well, you are the youngest professor here. Even your scowl can’t age you that much.” 

His hiss became even more sharp. “You have blubberworms to dice. And I mean dice, not chop.” 

Harry rolled his eyes as he jumped down, rolling up his sleeves. “Yes, sir.”

"And in the meantime, we will discuss your inability to respect those of authority. For example, your actions in the lounge earlier this afternoon."

"Don't pick on my godbrother."

"Image, Hadrian, has its use. As I'm sure you would have gathered as the only lesson to learn from that buffoon Lockhart last year."

The knife clicked against the countertop echoed by Harry's sigh.

About an hour passed, Harry perfecting his ingredient preparation that just happened to be the ingredients needed for Snape’s first year class the next day. After he had run out of vitriol, Snape turned to questioning him on uses and harvesting techniques.

Harry hadn’t realized how exhausted Defense had left him until the hand holding the knife began to shake. Almost immediately, Snape closed the book containing his grading.

“Enough. You’ll be no good if you cut off a finger. What has your mind at such unease?”

“Defense, of course.” Harry shook out his hand.

Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “A lesson not necessarily needed, but practicality has its reasons. Are you well?”

“Well enough. Just my past clouding my present. Nothing my friends can’t fix with enough time.”

“Very well. Do not let it cloud your lessons. I did hear, however, that you were able to force Lupin to show his own boggart. Extremely well done, Hadrian.”

Harry laughed. “Thanks, professor.” 

Snape hesitated, gritting his teeth. “Outside of class and times of formality… I suppose you may call me Severus.” 

Harry’s grin widened. “Seriously?” 

The professor’s finger pointed his way. “Do not make me regret it. And limit the childish commentary. I know you will begin to do the same with or without my permission, so I might as well allow it.” 

“This is why we come to you, sir. You’re getting soft in your old age of… what, 34?” 

“Leave, and add another 12 inches to your essay for tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Severus!”

Notes:

not my characters, just making their fears a little more believable.
poteatthegeek everywhere and anywhere all of the time.
comments, kudos, shares, more than appreciated.
also, thanks for all of you who stalk me on tumblr to ask questions, i always love seeing asks about this fic!!!
til next week <3 :)

Chapter 9: The Rise and Fall of Autumn

Summary:

Quickly moving through the fall months as the school year kicks up and the hunt for Sirius Black still yields no news.
Exploration expands to the village, and our trio learns a bit about Samhain proper.

Notes:

it's a longer one! apologies if it seems like we're moving so quickly through the autumn months, but there's a lot to get to.

Hermione couldn’t tell if she was still endeared or just annoyed by the now not-so-unusual habit Harry had of waking her up by throwing himself on her bed.

But when he had a large box with him, a wide smile, and a greeting on his lips, she sighed and sat up with little admonishment. 

“Happy Birthday, Mione!” He thrust the box into her hands.

She groaned, pushing the box away to sit up more fully. “You couldn’t have even waited for breakfast?”

A second later, a steaming cup was under her nose, held by Ron sporting a guilty grin. “I managed to make him wait until after we headed over to the kitchens. One coffee, just how you like, and my own present for you.” He pulled out a bag of sugar quills with an awkward bow around the opening.

“How’d you get these?” 

“Twins owed me a favor, snuck out to Hogsmeade to get them. Didn’t want to be empty handed on your birthday. Happy birthday, Hermione.” 

Hermione gave him a soft smile. “Thanks, Ron.”

He blushed before clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Breakfast in ten. I’m going to go get dressed.”

She watched the empty doorway for a second before Harry started nudging the box towards her. 

“C’mon, open it. Dan and Emma made me keep it secret and safe for weeks so they could give you your present on your birthday.”

“Why are my parents using you as a mule?”

“Because they adore me as much as I do them and they knew I would do this for them.” He nudged the box again.

She sighed, chugging her coffee before reaching for the definitely-a-box-of-books present.

 

The Slytherin table had a near palpable energy after a morning out on the field.

Many of the younger years were grinning, even having not made the team, covered in mud and friends’ arms.

Ginny was sandwiched in between Bletchey and Pucey, who were still in awe of her perfect Wollongong Shimmy.

Rowan was somehow next to a tired Marcus, pestering him with questions about the rules. They kept getting distracted by people looking at their hat, turned backwards as they leaned forward.

“Oi, Matthews, what kind of hat is that?” 

Rowan, in the middle of a question about the use of charms in Quidditch, glanced at Kylie Proust with a confused frown. They took their hat off, looked at the logo, before putting it back on. “It’s the Boston Red Sox, what do you mean?” 

Perrigrine Derrick leaned forward a few seats down. “Oh, you’re a baseball fan? My cousin’s boyfriend plays for the Braves.”

Thus starting a conversation regarding muggle sports that involved nearly everyone in the surrounding seats.

Hermione and Theo were, of course, reading, trying to ignore the chaos around them.

Harry settled next to Ron with a grin. “What a morning.” He turned to his friend, his own smile falling at the weird expression on the other’s face. “You okay?”

“Fine, mate.”

“Ron, why didn’t you try out? You love playing quidditch.” 

Ron pulled into himself a bit. “I dunno. I’d only be good at keeping, and Bletchley is decent, still has a few years left.” 

“Yeah, but you could have gotten on the reserve squad with Ginny.” 

He just shrugged. “Maybe next year.” 

Harry nudged his arm. “It’s not a Weasley thing, is it?” 

Ron flushed. “Shut up.” 

Harry ignored him, ducking under his arm to wrap him in a hug, to drop his voice lower. “I know the boggart messed you up. But you already are different than all your brothers. First Weasley in Slytherin in centuries, no? Not counting your aunt Cedrella, since she married into it and whatnot.” 

Ron groaned, but didn’t stop his arm from circling around Harry’s shoulders. “It’s fine. I think the extra classes are getting to me. Just didn’t want the added pressure, you know?”

Harry looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. But I retain the right to drag you out to practice with me and Ginny if things get too stressed. Yeah?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

 

Ron and Harry startled when Hermione appeared suddenly over them. She slammed her bag onto their table, earning a hissed reprimand from the librarian. 

Harry grinned up at her. “Mione, hey! We’re just getting started on the Latin essay. Have you finished it yet?” 

“Of course. But forget that, we have another avenue of research.” 

“Hermione Granger saying put off homework?” 

She glared down at the table, her Monster Book of Monsters crawling out of her bag. “There are some things more important than schoolwork.” She was clearly frustrated, face flushed. “Lord Malfoy is moving forward with a request for Buckbeak’s execution, and Hagrid can’t make a defense on his own. Schoolwork doesn’t have a life on the line.”

Harry softened, reaching a hand across the table. “Just think of it as… approaching our future in a different way. Knowledge actually used for something other than a test we won’t remember.” 

She gave him a small smile, but didn’t reach back. 

Ron, however, chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day. Hermione skiving off work.” 

Her smile turned to a frown. “It’s not like it’s for a round of chess, Ronald, it’s to start looking into saving Buckbeak. And hopefully find something to help Lord Black as well.” 

He scoffed. “Okay, Merlin. It was just a joke.” 

“There are lives on the line, there’s nothing to joke about!” 

“Obviously you don’t need my help. I’m off to find Susan.” Ron stood, slamming his book closed and pulling it off the table, leaving an air of awkwardness that had Harry bouncing a knee. 

Hermione huffed, blinking furiously. “I need to find a book. Can I have the table when I get back?” 

“I was here-” Harry trailed off at the frustrated look on her face. “First.” He sighed. “Sure, Mione. I’ll clear out.” He watched her go, pulling a hand to his mouth to start biting at the nail of his thumb. He groaned, left alone again with a tension he couldn’t understand, and a twitchiness in his body he couldn’t get rid of.

A shadow fell over him, and he blinked up to see Luna standing next to him, head tilted. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many flittering froits in one place. Who was arguing?”

Harry instinctively leaned towards her, hiding his face in her side. “Ron and Mione. I don’t know what’s gotten into them this year. One minute they’re laughing or studying together, the next they’re poking at each other until they both just turn and run.”

Luna hummed, eyes unfocused as she looked around the stacks of the library. After a moment, she started to run a hand through Harry’s hair. “Do you want to come to the Forest with me? There’s a beach near the thestral herd that is perfect for catching plimpies.”

Harry looked up and grinned. “I’ll have Dobby bring us some lunch. Let’s go!”

 

Not even ten minutes later, Luna was leading Harry deeper into the Black Forest than he’d gone before.

“Wait, there’s a den of mooncalves back here?”

Luna laughed, light and airy as it echoed through the near-silent forest. “Hadrian, Hermione will never forgive me if I let you bring another animal into the castle.”

“I wouldn’t bring them in, but just knowing where the den is could be fantastic-” He trailed off when they crossed over a hill, leading into a dark clearing littered with moss-covered headstones.

A few ghosts congregated there, leaning on their own names in stone.

“Miss Lovegood! Come back for another story?” One of the ghosts flew a little higher, coming towards them with a grin.

“Not today, Mr. Bloor. We’re on our way to Nist Beach for a picnic.”

The ghost chuckled, shifting his tunic over his potbelly. “Beautiful spot, very morbid indeed. Be sure to come back through when you have a bit more time, introduce us to the lad there.”

Harry waved at him as Luna dragged him by the sleeve.

“You really come in here a lot, don’t you?” Harry stepped up, taking her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked.

“Oh, yes. It tends to be much calmer than the Ravenclaw common room.”

He looked at her sharply. “Are people still bothering you? Luna-”

“It’s fine, Hadrian. Anthony is keeping an eye on things, and Typhon checks in. It’s just… harsh words, mostly.” She patted his hand. 

“You know you can come to the Slytherin commons. No one would say anything to you.”

“But they think it. And that’s bad enough. Loony Lovegood, still in grief from her mother’s accident. Obsessed with creatures and fairy tales.” She smiled sadly. “They all think it, Hadrian. And as much power as you are gathering, I don’t think that’s going to stop them.”

Harry frowned. “I can try,” he pouted.

She laughed again. “Either way, it’s quite pleasant out here. One of the ghosts almost always walks me back to the edge of the forest. I lay flowers on all their graves, and they tell me stories of their lives.”

“I worry about you, you know.”

“You worry about all of us, Heir Potter. That’s what makes you a leader worth following.” She pulled him from the trail, heading through an archway made of branches. “This way.”

He paused for a moment, eyeing the trees. “Luna, this beach is still… here, right? You’re not guiding me to a fairy circle or anything?”

He cracked a smile when she giggled.

“Of course not. Just because people believe I’m fae doesn’t make it true. And I don’t think the fae would…” She trailed off, eyes going distant for a moment. “Well, actually, the Black Forest would be exactly where the fae would make a portal. But I’m not aware of any. We should be adequately safe.”

They stopped at the edge of a bed of rocks, leading down to a wide river bubbling over. Across the water, a hippogriff was preening, feathers fluttering. 

“Merlin,” Harry breathed, watching the animal. “I didn’t realize there was so much further in.”

Luna smiled widely as she pulled him down the beach. “Have a blanket?”

“Yeah, course.” He reached in his bag and pulled out a soft blanket he had found in his family vault. “Softening charm and the works.”

They settled down, with an eager Dobby bringing them a food basket with a cooling charm. Harry had to usher him back to the kitchens, the elf and Luna devolving into a lively discussion about humming violets. After a quick sandwich, Harry dived right into the treacle tart, Luna picking fresh raspberries off of her own bowl of pudding. 

After a moment, she flicked her eyes up. “Hadrian?”

“Hmm?” 

“I heard…” She sat a little straighter. “How was your defense class?”

He groaned. “I’m fine, Lu. Honestly. The boggart wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t talking about the boggart. I meant truly meeting Professor Lupin.”

His fists went white at the knuckles as he gripped his spoon. “Fine.”

“He was friends with Mummy, you know.” She dipped a strawberry into some whipped cream. “She and Uncle Lucius were a few years older than your parents, of course. But my mother spoke of Professor Lupin. She was quite fond of him. Even named me after him, in a way.”

Harry frowned. “What does Luna have to do with Remus Lupin?”

“She was quite upset when he went missing, after your parents were lost. She wanted to reach out, to offer him help. She was excellent at potions, as well as spell-crafting. But he never answered her owls, and then Mummy passed.” 

The beach went quiet for a moment, only the gurgling of the river.

“Have you gotten into contact with him? Now that he’s at the school, I mean.”

“Only in class. For as much as Mummy liked him, he doesn’t know me at all. It must be rather hard for him, being back here. Seeing the faces of people he used to know in children he’s never met.” She put their dishes back in the basket. “Shall we stop by the thestral herd? Hagrid said one of the mares was carrying.”

Harry blinked back in. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” He stood. “Didn’t want to see if there are any… Wait, don’t tell me… Plimpies?”

Luna beamed at him. “Exactly. Come along.”

 

“Hermione, you’ve got to do something about your bloody cat.”

Harry blinked awake from where he was under Ron’s Weasley blanket, just in time to see Crookshanks perched on the coffee table, eyes wide and locked on Scabbers, who was in a fitful slumber on the armrest next to Ron.

Harry stretched. “I don’t get it, Sahir has a mouse and he doesn’t care about that at all, why Scabbers?” 

She frowned as Crooks flicked his tail. “Maybe it’s because he’s so sickly, it’s easy prey?” 

Ron slammed his book closed, standing abruptly and nearly pushing Harry off the couch. “Don’t talk about him like that, Merlin! You’re just asking for trouble!” 

Hermione blinked. “Sorry?” 

He scoffed, grabbing Scabbers and storming out the door to the common room.

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows. “What just happened?” He looked over at Hermione.

“I have no earthly idea.”

 

The weeks leading up to the end of October were a whirlwind of classes, homework, Quidditch, and an ongoing game of tag that migrated based on the day. The favorite location of the ever growing group was the dungeons, where they were able to turn it into more of a game of hide-and-seek rather than just tag.

Hermione had pestered Flitwick’s Charms apprentice to create a spell that could be cast on one person and transferred to another with the phrase ‘you’re it’.

Harry had to steel himself every time he walked through Lupin’s door for his lesson, but he could feel the Patronus forming, something blocking him at the final hurdle.

(He knew it was his own mind. He knew, every time he sorted through his memories with his nightly Occlumency, that he wasn’t actually over the boggart, that he needed to find something to use as the needed emotion for the spell. That was way easier than just brute forcing his way into casting it.)

On the other hand, his ‘detentions’ were going along well. 

There were a few actual detentions, mainly when Cormac McLaggen got bored, or when Harry would get caught doing a prank with the twins, or even once when Blaise Zabini had decided to turn his sneer towards Rowan for their lack of proper blood.

But his potions tutoring was accelerating quickly, Harry turning his journal into almost a grimoire as he took notes on how Severus altered potions for the infirmary, how different material components changed the outcome of the draught.

Severus was still keeping him from adding a rune circle to his brewing station.

But Harry swore he was on the verge of convincing him.

And having sessions nearly every week, it was quite normal for Harry to intrude on other student’s actual detentions. 

But it was extremely rare that a Herald, other than the Weasley Terrors, ended up there.

So when Harry walked in to his tutoring early, he nearly tripped over a cauldron at the door seeing Neville and Theo scrubbing cauldrons at separate tables.

Severus didn’t bother looking up from what looked like an absolutely awful potion. “Do not bother them, you have your own work to be doing, Hadrian.”

Neville shot him a sharp look at the use of his first name.

Harry just smirked back. “Of course, Severus. Wouldn’t dream of disrupting fellow students in rectifying what must have been a true disciplinary issue.”

Theo rolled his eyes.

Harry started brewing, a basic headache cure potion for the infirmary, eyes flickering over his friends every few minutes.

About half an hour later, Severus waved his wand over his potion, and stood. “I must gather a few more things for my work. Hadrian, the potion is in suspension, but should anything untoward occur, I have no doubt you would be able to stabilize it. No silver utensils. I will return in a few moments.”

He strode from the room, cloak nearly snapping behind each step.

As soon as the door closed, Hadrian spun to look between his friends. “Detention? Without any of us finding out?”

Neville blushed.

Theo rolled his eyes (again).

Harry grinned. “What did you do?”

Neville resumed scrubbing, not looking up.

Theo met Harry’s eyes, his ears red. “Levi’s girlfriend caught us in the greenhouse after curfew last night.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Caught, after hours, in the greenhouse? How… scandalous. And caught by a Ravenclaw, no less. For shame.”

“Neville had a project that needed tending after dusk. Sprout was supposed to send word to the Head Boy that we were allowed out, but obviously that didn’t happen.”

“Oh, of course.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Nev had a-ahem-project that needed tending.”

Neville gasped, dropping the brush in his hand.

“Hadrian James, don’t be crass,” Theo responded. 

That didn’t stop his blush from spreading, however.

The door snapped open, allowing Severus entrance again. “The two reprobates, you may leave. Hadrian, after this batch, start on ingredient prep for next week.”

Neville tripped trying to flee so quickly, ending up on his knees with an overturned stool.

Theo grabbed his robes and pulled him from the room.

Severus sighed, but turned back to his potion, lining a goblet with a powder before carefully ladling the liquid in.

Harry bit back his questions as he bottled his own potion for transport to the hospital wing. As he gathered the ingredients he needed to prep, he skated over anything he could see on Severus’s brewing station. As he began to organize them, he scribbled everything down. Including no silver.

Another few minutes passed when the door reopened, slowly. Harry didn’t turn, but he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand as someone entered the room and moved forward.

His eyes fell on Lupin, who was looking over at him worriedly. 

“Ah, Severus. I didn’t realize you were with a student.” He cleared his throat. “My apologies.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “For all that Mr. Potter retains from these lessons, I might as well obliviate him as he leaves. You should have no concerns. Here, quickly, you almost arrived too late.”

Lupin nodded, taking the steaming goblet from the desk. “I truly appreciate this, Severus.” He chugged it all in one go, grimacing at the taste.

Snape glanced at Harry quickly before taking the goblet from the Defense professor. “You do not have to thank me every month, Lupin.” Eyes toward Harry again. “I was asked to do this by the headmaster, and as Potion Master of the castle, it is my duty, as much as I despise it.” 

“Still. My thanks.” He turned, nodding once at Harry. “Mr. Potter, a pleasure as always. I do hope you won’t see fit to relay this to any of your friends. Just under the weather a bit, and Professor Snape always fixes me right up.”

Harry looked back at him with a flat smile. “Of course not, sir. As Severus said, I have a habit of losing a bit of my lesson when I leave. And what’s so interesting about asking the potions master for a potion?”

Lupin blinked at the potions professor’s name. “Oh. Of course.” He straightened his tabby coat. “Well, I must be going. I should rest. Good evening to you both.” He left much quicker than he entered.

After a few seconds, ensuring the professor had left any earshot, Harry rolled his eyes. “What better way to make me tell my friends than swearing the information is not worthy of it?” Harry looked up. “And I suppose there is nothing you can tell me? Other than the pointed glances?”

“Tell you of what?”

He sighed. “Thought so.”

Severus raised a brow. “Interesting timing on using my given name. Any particular reason?”

“Manipulation, of course, sir. He still feels he is owed some measure of familiarity due to his connection to my parents. I had a feeling you didn’t mind being used as a reminder he has done nothing to earn it.”

Severus waved a hand. “Manipulate away.”

 

It was with a grin that Harry got in line with his friends to head to Hogsmeade.

Severus rolled his eyes and pulled him aside as students started winding down the path towards the school gate.

“Maintain caution, if you will, Mr. Potter. There is a madman on the loose.”

“They haven’t let me out yet, sir.”

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go.”

Harry skipped to catch up with his friends, locking arms with Susan as they walked. “Okay, so we definitely have to hit up Honeydukes, and then the bookstore…”

Before Susan could reply, Justin tapped Harry on the shoulder from behind. Harry turned with a raised brow.

Justin gave a wide grin. “You’re it.” 

A flash of light appeared over Harry’s head, and he groaned as everyone scattered, running towards the village on the hill. “Sometimes I regret introducing this game.” He sighed and set off after Hannah.

They spent the afternoon exploring, ducking into nearly every shop just to see. They had lost Fred and George early on, disappearing into Zonko’s for hours. Hermione and Theo had gone to the bookstore, while Harry had dragged Justin to the menagerie a little further in.

They met up at the Three Broomsticks for a quick lunch, sharing a massive tray of chips and swapping buys from Honeydukes.

Soon enough, prefects and the few professors who had chaperoned were calling for the students to head back to the grounds.

The Heralds were stopped by the outskirts, as Harry dug out a handful of dried jerky to feed a scraggly dog that had slowly crept out of an alley and towards him. A large noise made the dog jump, and scurry back off with its mouth full.

“Aw.” Harry frowned after the stray, but turned at Hermione’s call.

Marcus stopped Harry before he could follow the others. “C’mon, shortstack. Dad’s wanting to talk.”

“Awww.” Harry waved off the others and followed Marcus back into the village.

“I’m telling you, that dog looked familiar. Exactly like that dog that was around Charing Cross towards the end of the summer. Weird, innit?” 

Hermione sighed. “It’s just a full black dog, Ron. You could probably see a dozen of those just in the valley around the school.” 

“But something about it…” 

Pansy looped her arm in his as they turned onto the path back to Hogwarts. “You’re not scared it’s the Grim, are you?” 

Ron rolled his eyes. “What, Trelawney been giving you predictions?” 

She laughed. “Saw it in Neville’s teacup.” 

They looked over to their Gryffindor friend, a few steps back, who had already opened a lollipop from Honeydukes. “Wha?” 

“Seen the Grim lately, Nev?” Pansy grinned at him, but he just rolled his eyes and passed a sweet to Dean.

Ron squeezed her hand in warning. “Don’t joke, Pansy, my uncle Bilius saw a Grim, and he died twenty four hours later.”

“Surely that was a coincidence,” Hermione said, frowning at Ron.

“It’s not just England.” They all turned to see an awkward Seamus Finnegan, mostly hidden behind Dean. “A bunch of countries have similar stories. Me mum, her pa is from Wales. They have the gwyllgi. Me cousin Lonan, when he was visiting Granda, saw a gwyllgi and died the next day.”

Ron flapped his hand at the other boy, looking at Hermione. “See?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Sure. Maybe those creatures exist. But I don’t think the dog in Hogsmeade is either a grim or… I’m sorry, Finnegan, I’m not even going to try to pronounce that.”

He shrugged, tipping the to-go cup of hot chocolate in his hand towards her. “No worries, Granger.”

 

Back in Hogsmeade, Harry followed Gerard and Marcus into a dimly lit pub set a ways back from the main road of the village. The man behind the bar barely grunted at them as they entered, heading towards the back corner of the mostly-empty bar.

Gerard waved his wand, and Harry felt a layer of magic settle around them. At his questioning look, Gerard gave him a wink.

“Muting charm. No one outside of us can hear this conversation.”

“No one’s even here.”

“You never know. There could be someone under disillusion. Someone could be outside that window. Someone could walk in, and stopping our conversation is extremely suspect.”

Marcus grinned at his dad. “Okay, Moody.”

Gerard rolled his eyes.

Harry leaned forward. “Can you teach me that?”

“Marcus knows it. He can show you later. For now, we need to discuss your godfather.”

“Any updates?” he asked eagerly.

“Madam Bones has enough favors with other Wizengamot members that she can do a trial, even with the escape. We just need to find him.”

Before Harry could respond, they all noticed the awkward bartender at the edge of their area. Gerard dispelled his mute charm and waved him in. “Aberforth, good afternoon. Business going well?”

The man rolled his eyes. “As well as expected, Flint. You three wanting anything other than a table to chatter at?”

As Gerard ordered his lunch, Harry blinked at the bartender. Something about the beard seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Marcus chuckled as he leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s the headmaster’s younger brother. They aren’t very close, but he still won’t move the pub to a more logical place.”

Harry looked back at Marcus with wide eyes, trying not to immediately stare at the younger Dumbledore as he headed back towards the bar to start cooking.

“As I was saying, Hadrian, we have a plan once Black is back in custody. The main issue will be determining line of succession with Gringotts. Are you still working with Griphook?”

“Of course. He spilt a lot of blood for my account, I doubt he would ever give it up.”

“Good. I’ll reach out again.”

“I was planning on visiting him during Eostre. I have a… controversial conversation to have with him.”

Marcus shot him a confused look. 

Gerard looked irritated. “Is this a conversation I need to be aware of?”

“Not necessarily. I… found a goblinmade artifact that I believe is better served in his hands than mine.”

“And what artifact would that be?” The lawyer leaned forward with a scowl.

Harry shifted back. “The Sword of Gryffindor.”

Marcus bit back a snort.

Gerard, however, nearly hissed. “You have the Sword of Gryffindor?”

“Yes-”

“And you’re going to give it back? That’s been in Hogwarts for centuries-”

“It’s not ours-”

“You have no idea what complications could arise-”

“I’m giving it back to the rightful owners-”

Gerard’s hand slammed down on the counter. “You could start a goblin war, you stupid boy!”

Harry jerked back so quickly he nearly fell out of his chair, face draining and eyes watering.

Marcus immediately stood, pushing his father away from the table. “Back off. He’s not some idiot unable to see past his nose. If this is the choice he wants to make with what he’s been given, that’s what is going to happen.”

Gerard blinked down at his son, who was nearly vibrating as he stood firmly between the two. “He doesn’t understand-”

“And yelling at him like that is not going to help either of you.” Marcus didn’t look away as he called over his shoulder. “Hadrian, head outside. I’ll be there in a minute and we’ll head back to school.”

Harry, shaking, nodded. “Sorry,” he whispered as he nearly fled the building.

Marcus finally moved his hand from his father’s chest. “You of all people should know better than talking to him like that. You know him, and have for two years. You think he hasn’t done the research? You think he hasn’t thought this through? This is a kid who doesn’t speak out of turn unless he and his friends have thought about it.”

Gerard scoffed. “He’s thirteen.”

“And he’s already been through hell.”

“Go to school, Marcus. And actually pass this time, please.”

“Don’t talk to me like that either.” Marcus stepped away, straightening his shirt. “Oh, and don’t call him boy.”

 

Emotions still high, the walk back to school was quiet. Marcus had gotten Harry a butterbeer as they walked, throwing an arm over his shoulders as they went.

He tried to buy Harry dinner, but the younger boy turned it down.

When they made it to the Slytherin common room, Marcus stopped him. “You okay?”

Harry nodded. “I know he didn’t mean to freak out. I just…” He trailed off. “It’s still hard.” He looked up at Marcus with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Marcus ruffled his hair. “Anytime, shortstack. And don’t forget, Samhain ritual tomorrow night, do the reading I left with Granger. I’m off to find Oliver. Don’t wait up.”

“Gross!” Harry called after him before ducking through the bricks. He quickly made his way through to their usual spot in the common room, forcing his darker thoughts away.

He sprawled along the couch, moving Rowan’s sweatshirt that Hermione had been using as a pillow. “Did you know Albus has a brother? Runs a tavern in Hogsmeade.” 

Hermione looked up, shaking her head. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it. Was he nice?”

“Bit gruff, but nice enough, I reckon. That’s just… weird for me. Does McGonagall have siblings? Holy Merlin, does she have kids?” 

Hermione just went back to her book. 

Ron didn’t look up, but muttered from syringe feeding Scabbers, “She’s got a brother somewhere. Her wife is a squib. They don’t have kids but have a cottage full of dogs out in Aberdeen.” 

Hermione lowered her book.

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows.

They both stared at him. 

Ron froze, feeling their eyes on him. He finally looked up with a shrug. “She came by when I was playing chess with McGonagall a while back. We had a lovely chat. Knew all about us three, of course, and we’re all invited for tea when we graduate.” 

Silence fell. 

He shifted awkwardly. “Why did you think Minnie never hangs out around the weekends?” 

Hermione closed her book, tucking her Nimue chocolate frog card in between pages to save her place. “We’re not Gryffindors, Ron, why would we know that?” 

“Oh, please, we’re in the tower just as much as we are our own common room.” He put Scabbers back in his travel cage, shifting to face them with wide gestures. “If she’s at the school, there’s a sign in there that glows green. Yellow if she’s in class or her rooms. Red if she’s not on campus or completely unavailable, like a meeting she can’t be disturbed for.” 

Hermione looked into the distance. “That’s… clever. Why doesn’t Professor Snape do that?” 

Harry snorted, falling back into the pillows of the couch. “Severus? No way. In his mind, if you’re not clever enough to know if he’s available, it must not be important enough to bother him with. Or, if it is, it should be important enough for you to find a solution to get help, whether that means blasting his wards apart, or, in his preference, finding someone else.”

 

“So the rite rooms only open at certain times of the year? How does that work?”

Ron held the door open for Hermione as she walked through with a book open in front of her.

“Surely Theo knows. Maybe the runes are date activated? Or maybe there’s certain magicks on ritual nights that unlock it.”

The Great Hall was still mostly empty, as the Halloween dinner was scheduled for later than usual, only a few students at each table. Seeing friends waving them over, the three settled at the Hufflepuff table with their books.

Justin immediately started reading over Ron’s shoulder. “Mate, stop growing. Have you been working out? I don’t remember your shoulders being this broad.”

“Shove off, Finch-Fletchley. Trying to read.”

“Oi, I know that’s rare for you, but no need to be rude about it.”

Susan pushed a plate of chips towards Harry. “Eat something. Cedric says that even watching the rites can be pretty draining.”

Hermione looked up. “Cedric’s family honors the rites?”

Susan nodded. “Both sides of his family are old. The Diggorys might not be Sacred 28, but they’re close. And his mother is a Fawley cousin.”

Hannah bit her nail. “Isn’t… I mean, aren’t the Samhain rituals a bit… well, dark?”

Susan hissed. “Hannah! Don’t be rude!”

“What?! I’ve never learned them!”

“They’re not dark, Abbot.” Marcus stood over them. “They’re just… ancient. They don’t meet with light standards because the Light only want what they think they can control. Traditions like these rituals aren’t able to be controlled, because it’s magick from before we turned to wands.” 

He turned to the trio. “C’mon, you lot. I need to get there early to set up the rune matrix, especially if I’m going to have a visitor’s section.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“But… Hadrian, you weren’t raised with them. You know the muggle holidays. Sure, learn about the traditional rituals, but taking part?”

“Look, Hannah. I was ostracized by the muggles. Those holidays were spent staring at a happy family from a locked room, I never really connected with them. These… It’s my heritage. I not only connect with our culture, this gives me a chance to connect with all of the Potters and Blacks that came before me. Why wouldn’t I choose them?” 

He looked at the students from the older families, ducking out of the doors of the Great Hall a few at a time. “Besides, it’s the first time I’m witnessing it. I’m not actually going to join this year.”

She sighed. “We’ll cover for you, if anyone asks. It’s not like you’ve gone to a Halloween celebration before, why start this year?”

Harry grinned at her, before leaning down and bussing her cheek. “Ta, Hannah.”

 

The room was… unimpressive.

At least, at first.

Many students, a few from each house, trickled in over the following hour, taking a space for themselves on the unnaturally smooth stone floor.

Cedric grinned when he saw them, and sat his things down just outside of the rune matrix separating them from the rest of the room.

“Usually, you have to wait until you’re fifteen before most parents will teach you the rites. These magicks are dangerous if the caster’s own magic hasn’t settled properly. The only time you see anyone younger is usually when they have a sibling who’s already learned. We try to limit that here, to not draw attention, and to keep everyone safe.”

Hermione nodded. “With so many family magicks in one room, you don’t want any risks.”

“Exactly.” He pulled out a worn book and a piece of chalk, beginning to copy runes and glyphs into the pre-drawn matrix around him.

Harry and Hermione were both taking notes.

Ron just watched.

By the time Cedric had put down his chalk, Marcus had stood from a circle near the center of the room. 

The eighth-year cleared his throat. “Thank you all for your discretion in getting here. As you are all aware, the possibility of this rests in certain people not realizing what we’re doing.” He glanced at the cluster of Gryffindors, where a distant Prewett cousin shot him the bird. 

Erin Avery rolled her eyes from beside Marcus. “The time is near. Please be sure you are comfortable engaging in the ritual before beginning your mediation. We don’t need another accident like in ‘90.”

Gus Burke hid his face in his hands as Prim Padgett poked his side.

“Begin when ready.” Avery nodded towards Harry, and then sat down in the middle of a runic circle, immediately closing her eyes, and beginning to chant.

Marcus followed, and soon the entire room was filled with murmured words, different languages and dialects, each building on each other as magic began to flow through the chalk lines on the floor.

Within a minute, the hair on Harry’s arms stood on end, and he felt like he was vibrating where he sat.

Hermione reached forward, grabbing his hand.

He blindly reached for Ron’s on his other side.

It was hard to tell how long they sat there for.

It could have been a minute. 

It could have been an hour.

Harry didn’t feel any actual connection to his own families.

But just sitting in the room, charged with ancient magick, he couldn’t help but tear up.

One by one, the others opened their eyes, and the tension dissipated. 

His friends still held his hands.

“This is something that I should have learned. Either from my parents or Sirius.” 

Ron squeezed lightly. “We’ll get him home, Harry.”

Notes:

same as usual, not my og plot/characters, just playing around.
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere, come yell at me on tumblr
comments, kudos, sharing much appreciated :)

Chapter 10: Moonlighting Professors

Summary:

Harry makes a crucial realization.
Luna is caught with a secret she didn't want anyone to know.
A weekend rain storm leads to all sorts of chaos.
Just another autumn at Hogwarts.

Notes:

i am SO sorry this is a day late.
in case you didn't see my tumblr post, this week has been extremely hard on me mentally, and i wasn't in a position where i felt comfortable posting a chapter.
but after a morning shift and a nap, i finished it and, while not perfect, it's the best i can do right now.
hope you enjoy! :)

Since the twins had shared the map with the other Heralds, it wasn’t unusual for it to be spread out on the table of the Nook, someone working on an enhancing feature, or a locating spell for a specific name, or, in Pansy and Ginny’s case, looking for blackmail material.

Hermione, in particular, had taken to pestering Fred about the magic of the map, knowing that the twins had probably done a variety of detection spells on it the past few years.

It was a tool for them all.

But after a few minutes of Harry staring at the map, tapping his pen against his father’s notebook, Theo snapped his book closed.

“Hadrian.” The reprimand echoed across the empty room.

“Hm?” Harry didn’t look up until Theo was suddenly casting a shadow over him.

“You have to stop with that incessant noise. If you’re that antsy, go fly or something. But if you keep that up, I will break every single muggle pen you own.”

“Sorry. I’ll stop.” Harry leaned back. “Just thinking.”

Theo watched him for a moment then sighed, settling into a chair across from him. “Would it help if you think out loud?”

“Does it ever?”

“Was your patronus lesson that annoying today?”

“Well, seeing as I still can’t do more than produce some light right now, yes, Theo, it is. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about something? That’s not just thinking.”

“It is for me.”

Theo glared.

Harry groaned.

“Fine. Just… something doesn’t add up. It’s like… there’s a puzzle I can’t see, right out of reach. All the pieces are there, but I don’t know the whole picture. I barely know the puzzle is there.”

Theo leaned forward. “What are the pieces?”

“My dad’s notebook. When I pulled it from the vault, I found some runes on the pages that made a section hidden. I used the same password for the map to access it. He and his friends, including Black and Lupin, became animagi in their fifth year. Made up names for themselves. Black was a dog named Padfoot, Dad was a stag called Prongs, Lupin was a wolf called Moony. Oh, and their other friend was a rat named Wormtail.” Harry waved his hand. “Anyways. Every time I hear the names, or read the journal, I feel like I’m missing something. And I don’t know what. But it’s going to make me feel like an idiot when I find out.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Merlin forbid. Why don’t you ask Lupin? Just for stories or something.”

“And give him the satisfaction of having more power over me? No thanks.”

“Were you this cynical before you got to Hogwarts, or has Slytherin brought out the worst in you?”

Harry grinned. “No telling, honestly.”

“Are we doing anything?”

He blinked. “Going to defense in a few minutes? Since we skipped breakfast to come here?”

“Well, I came here this morning. You were already here. Did you sleep here last night?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s comfortable, and I was too tired to try and hide from the prefects on rounds.”

“You have an invisibility cloak.”

“And?”

Theo narrowed his eyes before sighing. “Are we doing anything about your puzzle? Research, information gathering?”

Harry moved to start tapping his pen again, then saw the look on Theo’s face and put it down on the table decidedly. “No. Not yet. We have bigger things to worry about.” He yawned, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Like Defense.”

His friend frowned. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Full moon. Stayed up late to see if that had an effect on the rune structure Ron and I are working on. Hence not getting back to the dorms before curfew.” 

Theo’s frown grew.

Harry stood, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door. As he passed, he squeezed Theo’s shoulder. “I slept plenty. Come on. Let’s get to class.”

Theo followed. But he made a mental note to let Hermione know just where their friend had spent the night.

 

The Defense classroom was unusually cold that morning, autumn slowly marching towards the forceful chill of winter. 

The Slytherins had all already placed their bags on their desks, mingling amongst themselves and the few Gryffindors that had filed into the room early. 

Harry kept an eye on the door to the professor's office for any sign of the start of the lesson.

So when the room slowly quieted, it wasn't until he felt a presence behind him that he realized Lupin wouldn't be teaching that lesson. 

“Professor Snape. Do the seventh years not get the pleasure of your invaluable knowledge this morning?” He turned to face his Head of House. 

“They are more than capable of continuing their research projects without my consistent oversight. Unfortunately for you all, that means I am available to teach this class while Lupin is… indisposed.” He raised his voice, looking around the room. “In your seats! Open your books. No, Miss Brown, I don’t care that you were to have a demonstration on grindylows today. Page 394.”

They all scrambled for their desks in a flurry of motion and murmurs. 

Hermione leaned across Ron towards Harry. “Is it just me or is he more… ornery than usual?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't say significantly so, but I tend to work within different parameters than everyone else.” He watched the professor as the man magically projected an image onto the blackboard. “It was the full moon last night. He was probably in the Forest collecting ingredients. I would guess that a lot of people around the castle are in similar states.”

She pulled back, looking a little more closely at his face. “Hadrian, please tell me you aren’t one of them.”

He gave her a wide smile. “I’m fine. Let’s learn about werewolves, shall we?” He nodded towards the diagram now taking over the entire board.

She glared, but Ron patted her hand with a shake of his head, and they turned towards the front as Snape started lecturing with a pronounced sneer.

Neither of them noticed Harry blinking at the lesson with a furrowed brow.

Something slowly turning in the back of his mind.

He was still missing something…

 

“Hey, Mione?” Harry called from his usual spot on a pile of cushions on the floor of the Nook, tucked between the fireplace and one of the windows, with a bluebell flame on its sill. 

“Just a second, if I lose my place in this algorithm I will cry.” She didn’t look up from the large table covered in six different textbooks as her pencil flew across a notebook page. With a flourish on a large circle around the answer, she finally sat up, stretched, and glanced towards her friend. “Yeah?” She stood and walked over when Harry didn’t immediately reply, instead chewing on his bottom lip worriedly as he stared at his own pages. “Harry?”

“Hm? Oh. What’s the current phase of the moon?” He looked up, eyebrows slightly furrowed, which she instinctively mirrored.

“Full, you know that, you mentioned it just this morning. You said it was why Professor Snape was so unpleasant in defense, because he must have been collecting plants in the Forest last night.”

He looked back down at his half-finished essay, the book on the side table next to him. 

“Harry, you’re worrying me, what’s wrong? Should I go grab Ron?”

“No, no. He’ll freak out more than both of us combined, I’m sure.”

“Freak out about what?”

“I don’t think the essay Professor Snape set was coincidental,” Harry flipped a few pages in his book, scanning the information.

“You think he assigned it because it’s the full moon? I mean, that makes sense. A bit more practical, maybe we can add something about that into the essay.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Pointedly looking at the pages he had spread around him on the floor.

Not looking at him.

By now, two years in Slytherin had made all of them good at masks. But especially in the Nook, and places they knew were safe , those masks cracked just a bit if you looked close enough.

Or knew them well enough.

And Harry may be a bit of an idiot, but no one can say he doesn’t know his friends.

“Hermione Jean Granger. You saw the same thing, didn’t you?”

She winced, but nodded. “As soon as Professor Snape set the assignment, I thought it might be what he was alluding to. But in case I was wrong, I obviously wasn’t going to say anything. I’m just glad you see it, too. What did you find?”

Harry sighed before flipping the book around for her to see. It wasn’t the textbook assigned, but one of his magical creatures books, specifically one noting the differences between magical creatures and magical beings. He pointed to a paragraph under a hand-drawn picture of a large humanoid wolf, and he began to read even as Hermione scanned it herself. “Look. 'Those who are inflicted with the lycan curse tend to have supernatural abilities even when in human form, such as extraordinary hearing and smell.’ Remember how we thought he must have overheard us from outside the classroom? And we were trying to figure out what spell he used? Plus, ‘The transformation process, especially for those not fully in tune with their inner wolf, according to specialists, takes an excessive amount of energy, and the inflicted may need multiple days to recuperate. This time frame may be narrowed by the use of the Wolfsbane Potion, designed by Master Belby, but is an extremely delicate potion that is not for the casual brewer.’ Wanna bet that’s why Severus was all bent out of shape? Not only did he have to cover classes, but what if he had to stay up all night brewing this potion? The same potion I probably saw him deliver to Lupin that day? And you have to admit Lupin looked absolutely terrible the past few days, apparently you get weak leading up to the moon as well.”

Hermione’s eyes flew over the text again. “Why would Professor Snape not be able to make it in advance?”

“I looked up the potion.” He pulled another book from his bag, flipping through to the chapter titled Newest Achievements. “Wolfsbane is insanely complicated and delicate, like the book said. It takes six hours to brew, and some of the ingredients have to be fresh, preferably harvested the same day as brewing. It uses nightshade and a few other harmful ingredients, and in order for it not to be toxic to the drinker, it has to be ingested within five hours of completion. The potioneer who created it, Belby, his nephew is a fourth year Ravenclaw, I think? Anyways, Belby suggests taking it at the sun’s peak, when the call of the moon is at its least powerful. So, taking the potion at 2 in the afternoon or so requires the potion having to be finished, at the earliest, nine in the morning, which is also when classes start.”

“Okay, let’s take a step back and look at this empirically, like we’re explaining this to Ron. Why do you think this makes Professor Lupin a werewolf? Maybe he just got sick around the full moon. This is all smoke, I don’t see the fire.”

“Well, besides the fact that I saw Lupin take a steaming potion that Snape handed him directly while pointedly staring at me during my ‘afternoon detention’ last month,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Remember my dad’s diary? The one about them turning into animagi?”

She nodded, still reading the books in front of her. 

“They all had nicknames, right? Based on their forms? Lupin’s nickname was Moony. Dad’s journals said his animagus was a wolf, but what if that was a lie? He also mentions the Shrieking Shack being a hangout spot for them. The tales about it being haunted didn’t start ‘til they started using it, the screams and the howls? What if that’s why?”

Hermione sighed and pulled out the ottoman Harry had been using to sit. “Okay, these are a lot of coincidences. But Harry, do you really think the Board of Governors would allow a werewolf to teach? Let alone attend?”

Harry leaned forward, voice dropping even though the room was empty and coated in various wards to prevent eavesdropping and intruders. “Mione, we both know Dumbledore is a collector, specifically those who feel like they need him. Hagrid as a prime example, him being expelled with nowhere to go and then getting a home here. What he tried to do with me, making me feel like Hogwarts was the only place I had. Who’s to say that he didn’t think to take a meek werewolf in, provide an education, a safe place to call home and rely on until he became of use? Back right after Egypt, Arthur mentioned my parents not trusting Lupin during the first war because of his undercover work. How much do you want to bet Lupin went undercover with the werewolves? Maybe the ones that got Hannah’s dad?”

“Maybe… maybe you’re right. And maybe Dumbledore brought him back to try and keep you under his thumb, since things haven’t gone to plan the last few years.” 

“And you know Albus wouldn’t let Snape say anything to the students. But with a class full of his snakes? He can make allusions. Even if it’s also a personal grudge, you know Snape isn’t going to stand by while a werewolf teaches his students. He may be an asshole and a terrible teacher, but he’s a damned good Head of House.”

Hermione just nodded. “I can’t excuse some of his choices, but I have to admit I appreciate being able to approach Professor Lupin with caution certain times of the month.”

Harry smacked himself in the forehead. “Oh my gods, Hermione, his boggart is the full moon.”

Her mouth dropped in shock, and then she giggled. “That does make a lot more sense than a balloon, I’ll admit.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then joined her in laughing, starting quietly but slowly getting louder as they built off of each other. After a few minutes, Harry sat up a little straighter, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

Hermione, however, had a gleam in her eyes. “You know his name in Latin essentially means Wolfy McWolf, right?”

He snorted before his eyes widened. “Oh, and Luna! She said her mom named her for him, because luna is moon!”

They were still laughing through their tears when Ron and Susan showed up arguing about what to do about Malfoy.

 

It wasn’t even a decision, telling the others. 

Spreading information among the trusted, among friends of friends who wouldn’t say anything.

Prefects, Quidditch captains, students with undefined leadership roles amongst their houses.

It was major news, and not the kind that was believed lightly.

But if anything was true, it was that Hadrian James Potter didn’t lie.

Not when it was important.

And so the news spread.

Exactly what Snape wanted.

Although he most likely assumed actions would be taken, protests made.

But instead, caution just increased.

Every class had at least one person who knew, who had something silver tucked in their bag within reaching distance.

Every common room kept an updated calendar, days around the full moon highlighted.

To anyone else, it was just keeping tabs on when to harvest certain plants, when to study certain topics in Astronomy.

To those who knew, it was the days to keep an extra set of eyes around the Defense floor.

And so the days went on.

 

That night, the door to the Nook burst open, admitting a fuming Anthony. A few steps behind him, Padma had an arm around an unusually meek Luna, whose red eyes instantly had the room sitting up straighter.

“What happened?” Pansy asked, closing the magazine she was reading with a snap.

“It’s not a big deal,” Luna pleaded, looking towards Anthony.

He took a deep breath before turning back at her. “Yes, Luna, it is. You were locked in a closet and you were barefoot. You still haven’t found your shoes. It’s September in a stone castle in the Scottish highlands, don’t act like you weren’t freezing.”

She leaned further into Padma.

George was suddenly standing beside them. 

No one, bar Fred, had ever seen him mad.

“Who?” George’s voice was soft, but there was a tension running through it.

“George-”

“Luna, please. Who did this?”

She met his eyes, clearly looking for something. After a moment, she sighed, eyes watering as she moved to sink on the couch. “His name is Danny. He’s a fifth year in Ravenclaw.” 

He turned to look towards Harry.

Harry set his jaw and nodded once.

George nodded back. “Okay. I’ll be back.” He turned to leave out the still-open door, Fred confused and still at his brother’s heels.

Ginny immediately settled on the couch next to Luna. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m just… tired. It’s like I always have to be on guard.” 

Padma crossed her arms. “Luna, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t have to babysit Loony Lovegood.” She pulled her legs up into her chest.

Harry watched the others try to comfort her as he blinked back the realization.

She was a twelve year old girl who was just locked in a closet because she was still mourning the death of her mother. 

Still learning how to use magical gifts she didn’t ask for.

He shook his head. “We’ll let the twins handle some supervision in the eagle nest. Luna, until we’re sure you’re safe, you’ll stay in one of the other common rooms.”

She shot him a betrayed look, but he just looked back with raised eyebrows.

Ginny poked her shoulder. “C’mon, Lu. You can stay in my year lounge. We’ll make a party of it.”

Luna took the offered handkerchief from Justin and nodded. “Okay.”

Ron stood, stretching from where he had curled up into an armchair. “Alright, Miss Lovegood, your chariot awaits.”

At her confused look, he turned and offered his back. “I’m not letting you walk all the way to the dungeons without shoes. C’mon, sprog.”

She giggled and climbed on his back. “Wow, everything looks so different up here.”

He rolled his eyes and headed towards the door, Ginny grabbing their things and quickly following.

Anthony looked back towards Harry. “We’ll get her things. At least, what she’ll need for the next few days.”

Padma watched Ron trek down the hall. “Should we tell Professor Flitwick?”

“We’ll tell him, and I’ll have a chat with Avery.” Harry hesitated. “All three of them, honestly. But specifically Typhon. I should have enough sway that he’ll do me this favor.” 

Justin looked around the emptying room. “What do we think George is doing?”

“Knowing him? Hunting down Cedric.” Hermione closed her book. “They’re friendly enough, and Cedric can get Cho to help keep an eye on things.”

“Chang? She’s not even a prefect.” Justin frowned.

“Yes, but she’s on the Quidditch team, and she’s got a lot of friends. She can get things done a lot easier than Professor Flitwick.”

“And she’s likely to help?”

“She’s nice enough. And if it’s for Cedric, she’ll do almost anything. They're not even dating and yet.” Harry rolled his eyes. “They’re disgustingly in love.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, the horror.”

 

Harry shook off the rain as he landed, grateful at least for the impervious charm on his glasses, although that did nothing to ward off the chill. 

The storm was ten times worse flying than it was with feet on the ground.

He was about to go steal a bottle of bluebell from Hermione up in the stands. He could see the flames from the ground.

They’d last a lot longer than the warming charms Marcus cast on them all.

They had unbreakable charms on them. It wouldn’t break in his robes.

Even if it did, being on fire, at that moment, was preferable to being soaked.

Ducking into the huddle of green, he shuddered. “Y’know, we should really take a page from the muggles. They have this great thing called a stadium roof, and it lets games happen during rainstorms because they play inside.” 

Pucey patted Harry’s head, laughing when the younger boy swatted at his hand. 

“Adrian, stop, my hair is going to be a mess as it is, you wouldn’t believe the frizz if it’s left wet.” 

“Didn’t your grandad invent Sleakeazy’s?” 

“Yeah, and the Potter curse is that it doesn’t work for us. Shove off.”

Marcus flicked Adrian’s ear as he pulled the two apart. “Pay attention. It sucks out here and I want to be in front of a fire with my boyfriend. Shortstack, at this point I don’t care if we win or not. Find the snitch. Get me off this damn field.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Harry gave a mock salute, ducking when Marcus aimed for his ear.

“Let’s go. Mount up.” Marcus tapped Harry with another warming charm. “I’m serious, Hadrian. Get me inside.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he jumped on his broom and took off, back into the bleak gray sky, searching for any glint of gold.

For a solid five minutes, he hovered over the field, scanning.

Any hint of a snitch.

Any movement of fluttering wings.

And not a scrap of black fabric against an already dark landscape.

By the time he realized the chill creeping up his neck wasn’t from the storm, he was already surrounded.

His first instinct was to pull out his wand.

He still hesitated.

Until he saw the dementors drift towards Bletchley, who was looking up from the goal posts with a frantic fear.

The burst of light that came from Harry’s wand was more than he’d ever managed before.

But seeing his teammate, even a friend, at risk made him force as much power as he could into his patronus.

The patronus cloud was massive, and fast.

But not as fast as Harry began to fall as he slipped off his broom.

And as he went, he heard, once again, the scream of a ghost he never had the chance to really remember.

 

When he opened his eyes, it was to the bright lights of the hospital wing, a low murmur from the crowd that seemed to have infiltrated it. "Did we lose?" he muttered, loud enough to draw the attention of everyone nearby. As he blinked back into awareness, Miles was there with wide eyes.

“You absolute idiot, pushing yourself to magical exhaustion to get those things away from me.” Even as he berated Harry, the keeper pulled him into a hug.

“Miles, can’t breathe,” Harry gasped, laughing as Marcus instantly pulled Bletchley off of his bed. He looked around, his teammates hovering closely while a few Heralds looked on from a few feet away.

He looked towards Pucey. “Stadium roof probably would have stopped dementors, too. Just saying.”

The team burst into laughter.

An hour later, the upper years had mostly disappeared, leaving Hermione and Ron to sit at Harry’s feet, Pansy on the next bed over, and Marcus standing with his arms crossed.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Hermione asked, reaching for Harry’s hand.

He nodded slowly, blinking back tears. “I just realized… Before the train, I couldn’t remember my parents’ voices. And the only reason I can now is because of those… things.”

They all fell into a mournful silence as Harry began to cry.

The rain had not let up the day after the match. 

The Sunday was cold and damp, and the castle doors were firmly closed.

For the first time in weeks, no one had anything pressing to deal with. 

The Heralds were gathered in the Nook, which was slowly becoming a little too small for all of them to relax in comfortably.

Some were catching up on extracurricular reading.

Some were playing games quietly.

Some were napping.

A wix radio played in the corner, soothing and soft.

Pansy was missing from the room, having received detention the day before for breaking dress codes.

Ginny, without Pansy to entertain her, had settled next to Hermione and was skimming through her notes on spell experimentation with a near manic grin.

Theo ignored them as he read a book in German he had stolen from Anthony, who had simply sighed and pulled out another with a joke about learning a language Theo didn’t know just so that would stop happening.

Harry was brewing in the corner, scribbling notes in his notebook as he worked. 

George watched with interest and chopped ingredients while Fred dozed on the couch next to them, a sleeping Luna’s head in his lap.

Until Luna sat straight up, eyes immediately wide and darting around the room.

“Lu?” George called, setting the knife down. “You okay?”

Luna snapped her head around, eyes landing on Harry. “Hadrian, Draco’s in trouble. You have to help him, please.”

Harry didn’t hesitate.

No one did, not when Luna seemed to just know something.

“George, don’t let that boil over, and put it on stasis in three minutes. Someone use the map, find where he is. Theo, Ginny, Fred, with me. Hermione, stay with Luna and George.”

Anthony had used the simple locator spell that barely worked and looked up from the map. “Best I can tell is the Defense Hall. Hard to tell exactly with how many students are there right now.”

Harry nodded. “We’ll be back.”

He ran out the door, Theo, Ginny, and Fred just behind him.

Harry swore the castle seemed to help them.

Fred pointed them towards the fastest shortcuts he knew, but the hallways almost seemed shorter than usual.

In record time, they were panting beside a tapestry at the entrance to the Defense Hall.

From there, it wasn’t hard to see where Draco was.

Held against the wall by Cormac McLaggen, nose bleeding and eyes dead as he stared down at his attacker.

Harry nearly apparated across the room, shoving Cormac’s arms to one side before grabbing his collar and shoving him into the same wall Draco was now using to catch his breath, Theo putting himself between the blonde and the crowd.

Ginny and Fred glared at the students still hovering to watch the show, keeping them all at a distance.

Cormac sneered down at Harry, even as his eyes flickered around in fear.

For as small as Harry seemed, there was a power to him, even with no wand in sight, even with no weight of magic in the air.

Especially with his friends at either shoulder, and his full ire directed at you.

“How many times do we have to do this dance, McLaggen?” 

Cormac scoffed. “First you shield Longbottom, and now Malfoy. What side are you on, Potter?” 

“Mine. And Draco here is one of mine. I don’t know how many times it’ll take you to realize messing with my friends won’t end well for you, Cormac.” 

“Going to get your little lapdog Weasleys to prank me again?” 

Cormac glared past Harry to Fred, who blew him a kiss back.

Harry smirked, reaching up to pat Cormac’s cheek and get his attention back. “No. If I find out you’re harassing Draco, or any Slytherin, for that matter, about being a death eater, before we’ve even graduated, you idiot, I’ll write a nice little letter to my new friend Cornelius. How comfortable is your dear old dad with his job right now? Works for the Magical Creatures Department, no?” 

Immediately, McLaggen blanched. “You don’t know the minister like that, shut up.”

Harry stared at him with a look of derision. “Cormac. I know you’re not the fastest bludger in the box, but keep up. I’m the boy-who-lived. Even if I wasn’t, I’m Heir Potter and Heir Black. You think Fudge won’t jump at the chance to read my letter, do me a favor? And that's not even considering the delightful teatimes we had this past summer.”

Cormac shoved at Harry’s shoulders, and with a raised brow, Harry stepped back, hands up.

As the Gryffindor fled, a few of his friends following him, Harry called after him. “Nice talking to you!”

He watched until McLaggen’s robes were out of sight.

By the time he turned back around, Draco was gone, Theo looking down the staircase nearby with a frown.

 

“Pansy! How was detention?” Ron waved as he caught sight of her over his mashed potatoes.

She grinned widely as she strode up the aisle between the tables towards them. “Not nearly as short as the skirt that got me into it. Or will again.”

Most of them rolled their eyes.

Ginny raised a fist in the air. “Hell yeah.”

Pansy gave her a fist bump before shoving her aside so she could squeeze next to Harry, and the conversations started up again.

While their friends were distracted, Pansy knocked their shoulders together. “Thanks for earlier.” 

Harry furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” 

“With Draco. Against McDouche. I don’t know the whole story, but he told me enough before he got super emotional to know you didn’t have to step in and did, even after last year.” 

He sighed, putting down his fork. “He’s still my cousin, Pansy. He’s still a Black, and, more importantly, he’s your best friend, and you’re one of mine. Even if he doesn’t end up wanting to be a Herald, he’s my blood, and of my people. I’m not going to let someone like Cormac punish him for things he can’t control.” 

He lowered his voice with a shrug. “Besides, Luna asked me to.”

She had the softest smile on her face. “You’re going to be the best of us, Hadrian James Potter-Black.” 

He blushed. “Shut up and eat your lunch.”

Notes:

usual drabble, not my characters, not my books. just adding some spice.
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere. feel free to ask questions, voice concerns, yell at me, all on tumblr!
comments, kudos, shares more than welcome and greatly appreciated.
happy reading! :)

Chapter 11: Hounding Down the Truth

Summary:

Harry and Hermione make a life-changing deduction.
Snape makes a decision not nearly so dire, but to Harry, it's the worst one possible.
Are things changing for the better?
Or is reality finally crashing down around him?

Notes:

SORRY.
second week in a row i posted a day late.
i swear i meant to finish this yesterday, but i fell asleep and next thing i know i'm waking up at 2 am and i missed three and a half episodes of mbmbam.
BUT
here you go! hopefully the handling of things in this chapter are up to the usual standard... :)

By the time November hit, the Nook was nearly covered with Hermione’s bluebell jars. The chill crept in quickly, leaving everyone with more layers and more time indoors.

For the Quidditch team, they didn’t have a choice but to drag themselves out on the field every morning, trying to warm up with extra running laps. 

Hermione watched with an ever increasing frown as Harry trekked back into the castle for breakfast, shivering and pushing away most of his breakfast as he napped on the table in the Great Hall.

Whenever she tried to give Ron a meaningful look, he just shrugged and pushed a warm cup of tea towards their sleeping friend.

Harry never seemed to notice how often someone would push warmth his way, through drinks, bluebells, or even blankets in the Nook.

The first weekend of the month, Harry blinked awake to find himself under two blankets and surrounded by half a dozen flaming glass bottles. He snorted and burrowed back under, until Hermione noticed the movement and cleared her throat.

“Harry… Remember when we were talking about Professor Lupin’s condition, how you figured it out because of the names they gave each other? When they studied to be animagi?” 

He sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “...yeah? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. The names on the piece of paper in front of you.” 

Hermione nodded, looking down at the map. “Have you seen that black dog lately?” 

A moment of silence.

Harry groaned, leaning back into the pile of cushions. “...Morgana, I’m an idiot.” He slapped himself in the forehead before shoving the blankets away and standing. “Of course he’s hanging around. Everyone thought he’d be looking for me. C’mon, we better go find him before a dementor does. Meet me in the lounge in ten.”

Nine minutes later, Harry was kneeling by the couch, looking for Atticus, who had disappeared into the darkness underneath.

He saw movement in the doorway, and his eyes flickered up.

“Ron, hey! We think we know where Black is, are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?” Harry looked at him, freezing at the sight of Ron holding a bloody towel. “Ron?”

“Scabbers is gone. All that’s left is this.”

Harry sighed. “You can’t be upset with her.”

“Can’t I?” Ron threw the towel down. “She knew how sick he was! And she still let that stupid cat just do whatever it wanted!”

“What was she supposed to do? Lock him away?”

“It’s her familiar! It’s not like it’s stupid!” Ron closed his eyes, breathing heavily. “Good luck with Black. I’m going to go play chess with Percy, he has this trip off. Let me know how it goes.” 

Harry watched Ron leave the lounge with a frown.

Hermione ducked in only a few moments later. “Isn’t Ron coming?”

“He thinks Crooks ate Scabbers. Can’t find him, found some blood from his nest.”

She hissed out a breath, leaning against the doorframe. “Well, shit.” She rubbed at the spot between her furrowed brows. “One thing at a time. Let’s go find your godfather.”

Harry nodded, standing. “Hopefully he’s still being a creep and lurking around the village.”

They ducked through the closest door leading outside, bracing the substantial difference between the temperature of the dungeons to the November wind.

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything? Given you any clue that it was him?”

Harry shrugged, pulling his winter cloak closer around his body. “You’d think the letter over the summer would have done something. But there’s no telling how… sane he is.” The cut through the grounds, heading directly towards the fastest path to Hogsmeade. “Twelve years in Azkaban, on top of the trauma of everything that happened in the war? And that’s not even counting the fact he’s a Black. Uncle Arcturus was convinced the Black Madness was real.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Is it wise, us going to find him, then? On our own?” 

“I don’t know, Mione, but I’m not going to leave him out there. It’s freezing. And the sooner we actually get things moving, the sooner we can figure out what actually happened, and he can get the help he needs.”

They started up the path quickly, waving as Primrose Padgett, the Ravenclaw prefect, nodded them through the checkpoint.

“Thank Merlin it’s an official weekend. Otherwise who knows when we’d find him again.”

“Find who?”

Harry jumped at the sudden voice behind them, and they both spun around to see a grinning Flick.

“Felicity Elaine Higgs, Morgana, don’t do that!” Harry released his clenched fists. 

Flick cackled. “Your face!” She wrapped him up in a hug, knuckling her hand through the bowtruckle nest on his head. “You, sprog, had me worried. I heard about the dementors at the game.”

He scowled and pushed her off. “I’m fine, Flick. We won and everything.” He tried to fix his hair. “You’re lucky Atticus wasn’t in there.”

“Wow, kid, nice to see you, too.” She stepped back. “Hermione. You doing okay?”

She nodded. “Three years and you’d think we’d be used to the cold of the Highlands. You had a day off?”

“Week off, actually. They’re remodeling the store, making it bigger.”

Harry snickered at the sudden awe in Hermione’s expression. “Maybe we can go over Eostre, Mione.”

She turned to him with a grin. “Awesome.”

Flick threw an arm around both of their shoulders as they started walking again. “I thought I’d come see the village, see if I got lucky in seeing my favorite customers. And surprise, surprise, you two ditched the moderate warmth of the dungeons and are out and about in the snow.”

“There’s no snow,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you go hunt down your brother, I saw him leave ten minutes before we did.”

“He threatened to tell Mother I had a week off and didn’t tell her, or worse, come home for dinner.” She sighed when they both burst into laughter. “Who are you looking for?”

They both leaned forward, meeting each other’s eyes before Hermione shrugged. Harry slowed them down, pulling them off to the side. 

“We think we know where Lord Black is.”

Flick’s face drained. “And you’re actively trying to find him?” 

“We’re not going to really engage, we just want to check if it’s him, and tell him we can maybe clear his name.”

She sighed again. “I guess it’s a good thing I found you. Marcus would murder me if I let you do something this stupid without someone around who could use a wand without getting the aurors involved. Let’s go.”

Hermione glanced at Harry with a smirk. “Since when are you and Marcus so close?”

Flick rolled her eyes. “Don’t even joke. He’s fully enamored with Oliver. And even if I thought he was attractive, I don’t think I could get past the teeth.”

“My parents could fix that pretty easily. Why can’t Madam Pomfrey? Or an actual healer?” 

“Madam Pomfrey won’t do elective procedures like that. Teeth can be finicky. Eyes, too, which is why sprog here can’t fix his eyes while he’s underage.”

Hermione hummed. “Maybe I can ask my parents to take a look. Muggles fix crooked teeth all the time.”

Harry laughed. “Marcus with braces? Yeah, right.”

“Where’s your other partner in crime? Ronald not want to freeze this fine morning?”

Hermione scowled. “He thinks my cat ate his pet rat.”

“It’s a cat. That’s what they do.”

She threw up her hands. “Exactly! Besides, Crooks wouldn’t do that. He knows better than to eat other pets. He just… he liked playing with Scabbers.”

Flick sighed. “He’ll get over it. You three have been inseparable since the train, I doubt something like this will be what breaks you.” She stopped as they crossed the bridge into the village proper. “Where are we looking for the escaped criminal?”

“Last time we saw him, he was on the other side of town, near the path up to the cliffs.”

“And why has no one else noticed the Head of House Black wandering around?”

Harry gave her an innocent smile. “He’s an animagus.”

Flick groaned. “Some days I hate the fact I ever met you, sprog.”

“Lies.”

“Come on, it’ll be easier if we cut behind the Quidditch shop.” She led them into an alley. “Are you sure he’s going to listen to you?”

“No. But we have to try. And if he doesn’t, then the only option is for me to write Tonks, and have the aurors take him by force.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“We don’t have any other options-”

Hermione grabbed his arm. “There! Is that him?”

“Shh.” Harry patted her hand, eyes landing on the scrawny black dog a few dozen meters away. “Let me get close, he’s used to me feeding him.” He stuck his hand in his bag, disappearing up to the elbow. He started forward, pulling out a handful of jerky. “Hey, buddy.” His voice raised as he crept forward.

The dog’s ears were perked forward, tail slowly wagging.

“You remember me, huh? I’ve got some more food for you.” Harry waved the food. “Not anything warm, but it’s something.” He took another step forward, stopping when the dog’s tail dropped, and it let out a whine. “Okay, I’ll leave it here.” He tossed the jerky forward, then backed up.

The dog matched his pace, step for step, until Harry was back with his friends, and the dog was inhaling the food.

Hermione nudged Harry’s shoulder, nodding towards the dog. 

Harry sighed. “Here goes nothing,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Padfoot?”

The dog froze.

“Padfoot, don’t run off. Listen to me.” Harry didn’t move but to raise a hand in a placating gesture. “I don’t know if you read the letter I sent, but you have to listen. We can fix this. You can come home.”

Padfoot whined. 

“The next Hogsmeade weekend is in two weeks. Meet me on the outskirts of the forest. This side. Right at noon. I have a friend who is going to get you into a Ministry holding cell while we get you an actual trial.”

He moved a few steps back, tail between his legs.

“Sirius. Please. Two weeks. Find a shower. Trust me.”

The dog whined once before turning and sprinting off, jerky still in its mouth.

Harry sighed, watching the dog run. “Well, that happened.”

“That was definitely him.” Hermione started to chew at a nail. “Do you think he’ll show up?”

“Either way, Tonks will be here. So it’ll be up to him if he goes willingly or…” Harry trailed off.

Flick gripped his shoulder. “Nothing you can do until that weekend. Come on, I’ll treat you kids to a hot chocolate. We’re not too far from the Three Broomsticks.”

 

The next weekend was unseasonably warm, drawing nearly everyone out of the castle and onto the grounds.

At least half the school had loaded into the stands of the quidditch pitch that Sunday, waiting for a pickup game that was due to start that afternoon.

The third year Slytherins were among them, dragging even Theo and Hermione out of the library to sit in the sun.

Ron was leaning against the railing when Hermione passed him, and she stopped a few steps after with a frown.

“You aren’t playing?” she asked, looking back at him.

He just shook his head.

The tension between them was heavy, Scabbers still missing, but Hermione stepped forward next to Ron, leaving a few inches between them. 

They both watched Harry chase Adrian Pucey in a game of air tag, students from all the houses floating and dodging.

“He looks… thin. He’s not eating enough.” She inhaled deeply, blinking furiously. 

He sighed, stepping closer and leaning to press their arms together slightly. “We’re doing what we can.” He looked to her, collapsing in on himself slightly when he saw the tears in his eyes. 

“That’s not enough. He almost died at that game, with those… those stupid dementors.” 

“He knows his limits, Hermione.” 

She ignored the twinge of hurt at her full name. She couldn’t remember the last time he had called her Mione. She pulled away. “No, he doesn’t , Ron, and that’s the issue.” 

“What else can we do?” He looked back at Harry. “He’s happy.”

“At the risk of his life?” She shook her head. “Surely there’s something.” She turned on her heel, heading back towards the castle.

“What?” He frowned after her, raising his voice so she could hear. “What are you going to do?”

“Something logical, Ronald, and not just emotional,” she called back, arms crossed over her chest as she went.

 

Lunch the next day was quiet, none of the third years looking forward to another History lesson. 

“You have to admit, Defense is decent this year,” Daphne replied to Pansy, who rolled her eyes. 

“I’m sure some of this information is important, but when are we going to be face to face with grindylows? They don’t even come to the windows of the common room. Why would we need to know their enemies?”

Their discussion faded as Marcus Flint appeared, tapping a half dozing Harry on the head with a rolled up parchment. “Shortstack. Can’t say I’m too upset about this, but I know you will be. So try to keep calm, yeah?”

Harry looked up blankly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Flint handed him the paper. “I’m serious. Don’t make a big deal out of this. I’m honestly surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” He turned quickly, leaving the room. If asked, he would deny being worried about what would happen next.

Harry unrolled the parchment and began to read.

With every line, the tiredness disappeared, leaving disbelief.

Leaving anger.

He snapped his head towards the staff table, and with a snarl, stood. 

Leaving the letter on top of his full plate, he left the Great Hall.

Instantly, Ron and Pansy pulled the letter towards them, reading it quickly.

Pansy’s eyebrows raised. “I mean, yeah. That makes sense. But Marcus was kind of a dick to leave him to Harry like that.”

Ron, however, finished reading and stared at Hermione. “This? This was the logical choice?”

She wouldn’t return his gaze.

He scoffed. “I’m going to go eat with Neville.” He left the table.

Hermione sucked in an unsteady breath. 

Ginny, who had read the letter after Ron dropped it, pulled her into a hug. “You made a smart choice. He’ll realize that. They both will.”

Hermione wiped away a stray tear. “I just want him safe.”

The girls all nodded.

 

Harry slammed the door open, not even flinching at the way it hit the wall. “You’re taking me off the team?”

Snape didn’t even look up. “Spare me your histrionics, Hadrian. There was a viable concern for your safety at this point. There are no matches for the next two months, you won’t miss anything. When Madame Pomfrey clears you, you may rejoin your teammates. Perhaps after the holidays, if you tend to yourself well enough.”

“This is bullshit! I’m fine!” 

Snape finally looked up. “Language. Extra tutoring does not warrant you to mouth off at me like you are some imbecile drunk on the street.”

“Well what does it warrant me, professor?”

“You may have found a way to redeem your precious godfather, Mr. Potter-”

“Don’t bring up Sirius-”

“Do not interrupt me!” Snape snapped as he stood. “While you are in this school, you are under my purview, and it is up to my judgement. A classmate brought up a reasonable worry, and I concurred. You are not to play, or even practice, until you are of a healthier standing.” 

“Who?”

“They wished to remain anonymous.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mr. Potter. Just believe they had your best interests in mind, and I was the one to make the final decree.”

“Bullshit!”

The door to the room slammed closed as Snape flicked a hand from behind his desk.

Neither noticed the trembling of the room around them as they stared each other down.  

“And what criteria do you even have to make that call? Just because you have this position, professor, doesn’t make you responsible. You’re almost forty and you’re still just a bully. Treating students like target practice, like Neville, to the point that they actually fear you. Trying to out secrets that could end someone’s career, like Lupin-” 

Snape’s hands slammed on the tabletop. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. And mind your tone. I may want to ensure your safety, Potter, but that does not mean I am your friend. Do not presume to manipulate me like you think you can your peers.” 

The desks pushed their way in an arc around Harry. His fists were shaking. His eyes were wet. But his breaths were even. “I didn’t think of you as a friend. You were an advisor. A mentor.”

“And those things are still true, Mr. Potter. But do not presume that will give you carte blanche to disobey my rulings.”

“How can they be true if I can’t respect you? Why do you insist on fear being the only emotion your students can feel about you?”

“You foolish bo-” The professor clearly stopped himself. “Child. You clearly do not understand the reality of the world you galivant in like a child in a playpen. After your first year, I would have thought you understood that there is a war brewing.”

Harry stomped his foot. “And you’re forcing us all to start it years early! You think your attitude does anything but brew contempt against Slytherins? How is that doing anything but drawing battle lines? You really think this is what the people who died during the last war died for? Is this what my mother died for?”

He instantly knew he had gone too far.

The room dropped in temperature, as if a horde of dementors had descended.

“Leave.” 

Barely a whisper, but Snape’s utterance still cut through Harry’s chest.

He left without another word.

 

He didn’t realize he was heading towards Ravenclaw tower.

He knew the third years had History next, and he should be there. 

But he couldn’t sit through Binns droning.

Luna sighed when he came in. “Anthony told me. Are you okay?”

He collapsed next to her chair on the floor, hands over his face. “I have no idea. I can guess who made the suggestion, but I can’t believe she’d do that without even talking to me.”

She moved to sit on the floor next to him. “Would you have been any less angry?”

“...No.” 

“What all did you and Professor Snape argue about?” 

He moved his hands to look up at her. “What, do I have a bunch of froits hanging around?”

She grinned. “You remembered.”

“I try to, Lu. Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t real.” He thumped his head against the floor under him. “I called him out. For everything that’s been irritating me with him. Neville. Lupin. Being a bully in general.”

“I thought you appreciated Snape giving us the heads up about Lupin. Otherwise we wouldn’t have told people about it.” 

Harry sat up, grabbing a pillow from the nearby couch and screaming into it. After a moment of silence, he sighed and pulled away. “Yeah. But I started going, and just… kept going. Morgana, that was stupid of me.” He dug his nails into his legs. “I’m just… I’m worried about Sirius. And Severus is… to say the least, is an easy target.”

She sighed, pulling the pillow away. “He’ll forgive you. You both just need time.”

“And Hermione?”

“She’s worried, Hadrian, and she doesn’t know how else to deal with it. She’s…” She trailed off, thinking. “She’s learned a lot, about who to put trust in. But I think she’s still that girl who trusts adults to handle her problems. She had a healthy childhood, unlike us.”

Harry scoffed, pulling his knees up. “True. The Grangers are amazing.” He frowned at her. “Is everything okay with your dad?”

“Oh. Yes. He’s just…" Her gaze unfocused. "He gets distracted, a lot. Ever since Mummy went away.”

He moved his foot to nudge her knee. “If you ever need to, Tom can put you in a room right next to mine at the Leaky.”

She gave him a soft smile. “Maybe. But I don’t think you’ll be there much more.” She stood, straightening her dress adorned with different muggle cryptid outlines. “If you’re skipping class, let’s find something to do. I think Rowan is studying at the astronomy tower, they said they know a lot of muggle stories about the stars.”

Harry let her pull him up. “I’ve got my blanket and some unbreakable jars of hot chocolate.”

Her smile turned into a grin. “A great way to spend an afternoon, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes, but followed her to the tower.

 

Harry knew the double potions lab was going to be awkward. 

By that time, all of his friends, including those on the quidditch team, had heard about the health suspension he had gotten the day before.

Most of them were just watching him from the corner of their eye.

(Hermione had come up to him when he got back to the Slytherin common room in tears. 

He just shook his head. “Not now, Hermione. I can’t…” His gaze darted around to all the people not watching them.

Which meant everyone was watching them.

His voice lowered. “Quidditch was the one thing I had. The thing I shared with my father, something that gave me a place in this house. And because you, as usual, think you know best, I don’t have that anymore.”

Tears streamed down her face. “Harry-”

“And besides that, you didn’t even tell me. I didn’t… I thought we didn’t keep secrets. But I guess that’s another thing that you have that I don’t.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m done with this conversation. I can’t do this right now.”

He left her crying at the entrance to the common room, Ginny coming up to pull her back towards their couch. Harry disappeared into his room for the rest of the night.)

He settled next to Neville, stiffly pulling out his things.

Neville’s eyes darted towards him multiple times before he cleared his throat. “Are you…”

“Neville, you mean the world to me, you are the closest thing I have to a brother in this world. But if you ask me if I am okay, I will burn this room to ashes.”

“...okay. I wasn’t saying anything. Nothing at all.”

The silence in the room was even more heightened than usual when Snape stormed in, pointedly not looking at Harry’s table. 

“You’ve been studying the Wideye potion. Brew it. And try not to annoy me or blow anything up, I don’t have the patience.”

The class quietly started prepping and brewing, no one looking at the professor for more than a split second. 

Harry knew it wouldn’t have lasted for long.

Snape’s words should have been a warning.

An omen.

A jinx.

He was too distracted, too busy trying not to simply glare at Severus, that he didn’t realize Neville had moved to stir a fourth time.

And the potion turned a bright blue, bubbling over the copper cauldron.

Suddenly, Snape was sneering over them, wand vanishing their potion. 

“Imbeciles, can’t you read?”

Harry clenched his jaw.

“A week of lessons, of essays, and you still don’t know that a fourth stir will cause the fangs to overreact?”

His fists turned white under the table.

“You could have injured the entire class-”

His vision was starting to blacken at the edges.

A crash from across the room broke them both out of their concentration.

Snape turned to glare at the mess on the floor, looking up at the table the glass came from.

Draco raised a pale eyebrow. “Oops,” he offered, dry and unregretful. “How terribly clumsy of me.”

Severus’s eye began to twitch. “Malfoy. Nott. Longbottom. Potter. Zero for the day. You’ll rebrew at detention on Saturday. Leave my classroom.”

Neville immediately shoved all of their leftover ingredients in the empty cauldron and pulled Harry’s arm, leading him quickly towards the door.

As they piled into the hallway, Neville sighed and leaned into Theo’s shoulder. “Merlin, that was brilliant, Draco.”

Malfoy nodded. “Cheers… Neville. I’ll leave you two to deal with that.” He gestured towards Harry. “I’m going somewhere to hide from my godfather when he decides to actually talk about what just happened.” He hesitated before clapping Harry’s shoulder, and then turned to walk away.

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry called after him, finally able to breathe evenly again.

The blonde simply waved a hand over his shoulder, not even looking back.

Theo patted Harry’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go to lunch.”

Neville waved them off. “I’ll meet you there later. I need to talk to someone back in the tower.” 

 

An hour and a half later, the Slytherin-Gryffindor class filed out of the classroom like scolded dogs, no one uttering even a word until they were on an entirely different floor.

Snape slammed the door to the classroom closed as he stalked towards his private office.

He groaned at the cat flicking its tail at the doorway.

“Today, of all days, Minerva, is not the day to have whatever conversation you think is warranted.” He waved his hand, opening the door and undoing the wards.

The cat’s ears veered back, nearly against her skull. She flicked her tail once and disappeared into the room.

Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he followed her in.

By the time he sat at his desk, McGonagall had shifted, standing over him with a frown.

“Why did I have one of my lions show up in my office concerned that you were about to poison Potter?” she scowled. “What did you do?”

“My job, Minnie. It was brought to my attention that Potter seemed unhealthy, losing weight and not eating properly. It would be idiotic to allow him to continue playing until he was cleared. He has an appointment to see Poppy at the beginning of next week. She will prescribe him nutrition potions and he’ll be fine by the next game.”

She eyed him. “And how did you tell him of this?”

Snape sneered. “The same way I would any other student on the team. I informed the Quidditch captain, who informed the player.”

“And you thought that was the best way? With Potter?”

“You told me, that first night, to treat him like any other student.”

“Oh, and weekly private lessons, you do those with any other student?”

“Any student with his aptitude, yes. Draco has similar opportunities. As do quite a few upper years.”

She scoffed. “I’m sure those students have no relatives that you happen to be close with. For your version of close.”

His jaw clenched. “Is there a point to this?”

“Yes, Severus, there is.” She rapped his desk with her knuckles. “For the sake of everyone in this castle, fix this.”

"And what of what he said to me? Calling me a bully, using Lily against me?"

She stared at him. "I didn't know you were still able to be manipulated like that, Severus. You must really care for the boy."

She shifted back and ran out of the room on four light paws, ignoring the clash of glass behind her.

 

Warmth settled over Harry as his cousin tapped his head with her wand. 

“This is stupid, even for us, Harry.”

He rolled his eyes, staring down the road. “Well, no point in peaking early.”

Tonks looked past Harry with a worried expression. “Look, the most I can give you is five minutes. After that, I have to call it in. Even for the Heir.” She sucked in a breath as she saw a silhouette on the road. “And the Lord.”

Harry nodded, squeezing her arm in gratitude. “It’s more than I expected. Thanks, Dora.”

She gave a salute towards the approaching figure. “I’ll give you some space. Wotcher, Uncle Sirius.” Her hair flashed oranged before turning dull as she walked past, back towards the path to Hogsmeade until she was out of earshot.

“Was that Andi’s daughter? She’s… I’ve missed so much.”

Harry turned to face Lord Sirius Black.

His father’s best friend.

His godfather.

He was shorter than he expected, skin taut and pale.

The suit he was in was too large on him, making him look comically frail and small.

His hair was wet, slicked back out of his face, making it even more clear how gaunt he was.

“Lord Black,” Harry offered, bowing slightly.

“No, don’t, please. You…” It was clear Black was fighting back tears. “Merlin, Harry, I changed your diapers. I bought you your first broom. I’m not your Lord, I’m your godfather. Just Sirius is fine. Or Padfoot, if you want.”

Harry nodded. “Sirius. Dora said she’d give us a few minutes to catch up, before she calls Kingsley and the other aurors.”

“She’s on the force?" His smile was wide, for a moment. "James and I were, as well. We…” He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands, suddenly sullen. “We were set to move pretty quickly through the ranks.” He looked back at Harry. “Sorry, I’m sure you know all this.”

Harry shrugged. “Some. Lady Longbottom put together an album with some letters from your friends, filled in some blanks. Back in first year.”

“Not before?”

He bit back the anger. “Who did you think would have told me? I grew up with Mom’s sister. Petunia wasn’t about to share stories.”

Sirius inhaled sharply. “He left you with them? Those… those self-obsessed muggles?”

“What did you think would happen, Sirius?” Harry’s eyes flashed. “You left, got arrested. The Longbottoms were incapacitated. Lupin would never have been cleared to take me. There was no one else.”

He watched as a grown man burst into tears in front of him. 

“Merlin, Harry, I know.” His breath heaved. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself. All I’ve thought about, every day, for twelve years, was the sound of you crying in Hagrid’s arms when I ran after Peter.”

Harry stepped back, unsure how to deal with the overwhelming emotion in front of him. 

“And you probably don’t even remember me, but you’re working to save me, and then I did the stupid thing of escaping-”

“Why did you?”

Sirius froze, all emotion draining from his face and turning to a steel rage. “Pettigrew. I saw that picture of you in Egypt, your friend’s pet. I thought-” He trailed off. “But that’s crazy, even for me. It just… It’s hard, keeping sane. I had it easier, with my animagus form. But I saw a glimpse of a rat and I thought it was Peter. I saw red, and next thing I know, I’m washing up on the shore. The only thing I could think to do was find you. For all I know, Peter’s watching you, just waiting.”

“Peter… he was an animagus, too? No one really talked about him. Dad’s journals said he was a rat, right?”

Sirius nodded. “Guess they were right, that your animagus form mirrors your true personality. He ended up being a rat in the end, alright.”

“He’s the one who really betrayed my mom and dad?”

The man clenched his fists, skin turning white. “Yes. That’s why I left you with Hagrid, chasing Pettigrew down. It was… idiotic, foolish. Like killing him would bring James and Lily back. I guess I hoped that Dumbledore would leave you with Remus, if something happened. Or maybe I wasn’t thinking at all, past finding Peter. But that bastard cut off his own finger, blew up the entire street, and disappeared.”

Harry scoffed. “Leaving me with a werewolf? Albus would never. The publicity alone.”

Sirius frowned. “Publicity? Sure, you’re the heir to two houses, which, sorry about making you the Heir to the Blacks, but why would that warrant publicity about who you live with?”

“Oh, did my name not make it to Azkaban?” Harry rolled his eyes. “That night, Voldemort tried to kill me. He died, I didn’t, and I was branded, The-Boy-Who-Lived.” Harry waved his hands with a waggle of his fingers. “In the eyes of everyone and anyone, I’m some kind of hero.” He pulled into himself. “I grew up with Petunia, as nothing, as little more than just another mouth to feed. I hadn’t even met Lupin until this year, he’s teaching here, you know. And, I know he’s your friend, but I’m not that impressed.”

Sirius laughed. “Yeah, it takes a while for him to warm up enough to be more than the shy book-obsessed loner he is at first. He’s got a wicked sense of humor once he does.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Harry shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“Sirius? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

He stepped closer, not even realizing Harry took an immediate step back. “No one let me. Harry, I would have fought tooth and nail to get the truth out, to get you justice. But by the time I came out of the… the chaos in my head, they were hauling me to that thrice-damned island. It’s not like the guards were going to listen to me about a rat with a missing claw on his front foot.”

Harry froze. “Wait… A rat with a missing toe?”

“Yes. I just told you-”

“Merlin. Scabbers.”

Sirius leaned forward. “You’ve seen him? He’s around?”

Harry felt sick. “You were right. The rat, that Ron had. He’s been missing. Acting weird ever since we started talking about you, your escape. Haven’t seen him since the morning we made the plan to find you in Hogsmeade.”

Sirius was suddenly next to him, light hands on his shoulders. “Harry, you have to listen to me. Keep away. If you find him, run.”

“But,” Harry blinked up at his godfather. “Mom and Dad-”

“No, Harry. Your safety is more important than getting him put away. You don’t need to be me, running after someone that could get you hurt.”

Harry couldn’t tell which of them were shaking worse.

Was this how kids were supposed to feel?

Having an adult actually care?

To put your safety first, even at the risk of their own?

“Sirius…”

They both twisted at the sound of a whistle, looking to see Tonks gesturing towards a pocket watch in her hand.

Sirius smiled blandly. “Guess that’s time.” He sighed. “I hate the idea of doing this. Of risking it again.” He looked at Harry. “But for you, anything.” He paused for a second, stepping back. “James and Lily would be so proud, Harry.”

The ground shook, and the air was getting colder by the second.

Harry stared at the man in front of him.

Even stained with the grim and trauma of Azkaban, something was familiar about him.

His hand felt the ghost of a stuffed dog, black and fluffy and covered in drool.

“This was a bad idea.” Harry looked up with tears in his eyes. “Sirius-” 

“You’ve done enough to help me, Hadrian. Let me help you for once. I’m your godfather, it’s what I’m supposed to do. What I should have been doing the past twelve years.” 

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if you get sent back to Azkaban? Or worse?” 

Sirius put a slow hand on Harry’s shoulder, inhaling sharply when the boy turned to throw himself into his arms instead. 

“I’ll be fine, Harry. And if not, I swear to you, you will be taken care of no matter what. Remus, even if you don’t trust him fully, will make sure you want for nothing in my stead. And Cousin Andi will continue to be the perfect choice as your proxy. You’ve already done our house, our family, proud, Hadrian Potter-Black. I know you will continue to do so even if I can’t be here to guide you.” 

Harry pulled back, blinking away the tears in his eyes. “Just… do your best to make sure that doesn’t happen, please?”

Sirius pressed a kiss to the top of his godson’s head. “I made the mistake of leaving you once. I will always try to come back to you.” He stepped back. “But running from this isn’t going to do either of us any good.”

Tonks grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “C’mon, kid. You gotta get out of here, it’s not going to look good if he’s seen with you. I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. He’s my family, too.” 

Harry nodded. “Keep me updated, please.” He looked at Sirius. “And just… don’t manage any mischief, if you don’t mind.”

Sirius grinned. “You found the map? Brill.” He winked. "Go on. I'll see you soon."

Harry turned, ducking into the forest.

As soon as he was out of eyeline, he started to run.

He kept running.

He knew the forest like the back of his hand. 

Even with how often it changes.

He didn’t stop until he reached Nist Beach, barely acknowledging the ghosts at the cemetery, waving towards the two centaurs patrolling at the edge of their territory. 

Not seeing Greg Goyle walking Fang in the student-safe section of the depths.

Bent in half, gulping in breath, he fought the tears from streaming down his face.

Harry settled on the stones, pulling his knees into his chest.

He stared into the lake, watching the soft waves lap at the shore. 

He barely moved when he felt a warm breath on his neck, but he couldn’t help but smile when he felt his shirt pull away from his back. 

He reached back, lightly shoving the thestral’s snout away from his collar. “You gotta stop trying to eat my clothes.”

The thestral snorted, before kneeling beside him, laying down with awkward limbs.

Harry reached out, stroking the smooth skin. 

An hour later, a blanket settled around his shoulders, startling him out of his worry.

“I think I’d like to meet Bai.”

He leaned back, head knocking into Luna’s knees as he stared up at her. “Like, right now?”

She hummed. “Greg is worried about you.”

“Who isn’t?” he joked, standing. 

She looped their arms together. He instantly moved the blanket to cover them both. “We can visit Susan on the way back. To the chamber?”

“There’s an entrance from the forest.” He pulled her towards the back side of the castle.

After a rather confusing, long translated conversation, Harry and Luna stumbled through the barrels, Harry nearly falling at Susan’s feet.

“Sue, hey.” All of his nerves came flooding back. “Do me a favor? Write Aunt Amelia? They took Sirius a few hours ago. I’m not… Can we just write her?”

Susan gave him a small smile. “Come on. Nira just got back from taking a letter to Hannah’s uncle, she can take something to Auntie tonight.” She wrapped her arm around Harry’s, pulling him towards the dorm.

Justin looked after them with a frown. “Wasn’t that the plan? The aurors taking Sirius, him finally getting a trial?” 

“Merlin, Justin.” Hannah smacked his shoulder. 

“What?”

“He’s the best chance Harry has to get away from the muggles. Not to mention his dad’s best friend. Who’s been in jail for a decade unjustly. Of course he’s worried this won’t work. Why wouldn’t he want every advantage he can get?” 

Luna settled on the couch, taking Susan’s vacated seat. “It must be strange, suddenly having a chance for a life that should have been promised to him. Like a will-o-the-wisp, on the air but not quite landed properly. Just a chance.”

They all looked towards where Harry and Susan had disappeared. 

Justin whistled lowly. “Poor bloke.”

Notes:

poteatthegeek wherever you look
fully wrecking the og plot but it wasn't mine to begin with
comments, kudos, and shares more than welcome
so are asks on tumblr!
(maybe next week i can finish the chapter on time)
enjoy! :)

Chapter 12: Pre-Yule Tidings

Summary:

Ron gets told a shocking secret.
Sirius goes in front of the Wizengamot.
Harry gets a pre-Yule gift.
The holidays begin, full of family and the usual chaos that comes with family.

Notes:

look! released on friday!
(although i'm not entirely pleased with how this turned out)
((plot wise, all good, but there are some paragraphs i may edit once i have more than two hours sleep))
(((but if i don't post this now, i'll worry over it all night and i have work tomorrow)))
hope you enjoy!

“-and because he cut off his finger, his Animagus form is missing a front claw.” 

Harry was sitting on the coffee table in the Nook, knees framing Ron’s as he sat on the couch in front of him.

Hermione watched Ron from the corner of the room with a frown. 

Ron, who was slowly leaning back, eyes distant and breath shaky.

The Heralds were all scattered around the room, in various states of shock and disbelief. 

Hannah stood suddenly, shaking her hands frantically. “Ew, ew, ew. A grown man hung out in your pocket, Ron!” 

She didn't see how pale the youngest Weasley son had gotten since Harry first started talking. 

His freckles stood out in stark contrast, like an ink splatter on a fresh page. 

Fred was barely any better. “He's been in our house. For years.”

George smacked his twin, eyes on his brother. “He knows, shut it!”

Anthony straightened. “Well, now is a good time to test out the map. Have we tried the locator spell?”

Harry watched Ron while Justin stood and joined Anthony at the table.

Ron was shaking, one hand gripped around Luna's, the other around his wand. “I-” He stood and fled the room, the door to the bathroom down the hall slamming open just seconds later. 

Luna sighed. “I've got him. He just needs a minute.” She dusted off her skirt and followed the path of open doors.

Harry stared after them, his own hands shaking.

Hermione was suddenly at Harry's shoulder. “You couldn't have done anything.”

He spared her half a look. “Stay out of my head.” 

She chuckled. “I doubt I'm going to be very good at Legilimency. Ron, maybe.” She settled in Ron's vacated seat, reaching for his hands, stilling them as she held them. “I just know you. And you're most likely blaming yourself for this.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Peter was my father's friend.”

“And? He's been with the Weasleys for over a decade. His decision has nothing to do with you unless you're a lot older than you say you are, or have a time turner, in which case I'm furious you haven't told me sooner, I could have been studying for weeks.”

He sighed, pulling his hands out of hers. “It just seems like when something happens, it's everything at once, you know? And between the cold and the dementors, Sirius, and now Peter, there’s not much going good right now.”

She looked down, cheeks darkening. “I am sorry, by the way. I know Quidditch was an outlet for you to unwind.”

Harry froze for a moment, then melted. “I’m sorry, too. I know you were worried, and have been. It's…” He groaned, falling back on the coffee table as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “It's still hard, needing someone. Having someone. I'm used to…”

She sniffled, and he froze again, sitting up quickly at the sound of her crying. 

“I'm sorry! I know I should have told you, talked to you, instead of just going to Professor Snape! But between the dementors, and the stress about Lord Black, I was worried Quidditch was too much, and gods, Harry, I feel like if I hug you too hard you'll break, let alone what a bludger would do!”

Neither of them noticed the room had emptied, Hermione in tears and Harry frozen across from her.

“Sorry. You know I’m a frustrated crier.” She sniffled again, pulling a handkerchief from her bag to wipe her eyes.

He moved to the couch, ignoring his own awkwardness to pull her into his arms. She laughed when he started trying to spit her hair out of his mouth. 

“We’re okay, Mione. Ron may need a little time, but we’re going to be okay.”

She nodded. “You’d think the school would have a mindhealer on staff. Morgana knows the student population is traumatized enough to keep one busy.”

Harry hummed with a snicker.

A second later, she pulled back, looking at him with wide eyes. “Oh, you missed Hagrid at dinner! Buckbeak’s trial is moving forward!”

Harry groaned and slid onto the floor, face down on the stone, not even moving when Hermione poked him with a foot.

 

“He's not letting me go.” 

The entire common room froze as the temperature dropped, Harry stalking in the room with a white-knuckled grip on his bag. 

Hermione sighed as she stood. 

Ron had taken to hiding with his brothers in the Gryffindor tower, leaving her to deal with Harry's mood swings. 

Thirteen wasn't a good year for any of them.

She moved to tuck her arm through his, pulling him back out of the common room.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining the sigh of relief that followed them.

“Dumbledore?”

Harry sneered, violent and sharp. “Like he has any right to keep me from my lord. Like he didn’t have something to do with the fact he was locked up in the first place! And now I can’t even go to his trial?”

She squeezed his arm, reaching down with one hand to feel for his racing pulse at his wrist as they walked. “Just… think of it as Sirius not needing the distraction.”

“I’m a distraction?” 

“Harry, if you’re there, you’re going to be on edge the whole time. Not to mention, you’re the boy-who-lived. You’re going to draw attention. Attention that may distract the Wizengamot from the truth.”

He groaned, clenching his fist. “I just feel like I need to do something.”

Hermione sighed. “I know. Which is why Marcus is meeting us in the dueling room.”

Harry turned to look at her. “Dueling?”

“I think we’re both out of practice. And since you can’t fly, maybe you can work on dodging some spells.”

He started to pull ahead, his sneer turning into a grin. “C’mon!”

The following few hours were filled with spell light, interspersed with breaks to rest and snack on the food an eager Dobby brought. 

The last round of practice ended with Harry panting on the floor, relishing in the cold stone against his warm skin. Hermione was healing a nasty cut across Marcus’s shoulder.

The door burst open, none of them really even bothering to look at the new occupant, until they heard Theo gasping.

“Finally, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He bent over, hands on his knees.

“Theo? Is everything okay?” Hermione stood, frowning as she moved over.

He straightened, pulling a scroll out of his pocket. “My cousin in the Ministry is friends with Erin Avery, and was able to get a message through as soon as the trial was over.” He tossed the letter onto Harry’s heaving chest. “We did it. He’s cleared of all charges.”

Harry sat up so quickly his vision blackened at the edges. He unrolled the paper and scanned it quickly. 

“Got a pretty heavy load for reparations, too,” Theo continued with a smirk. “Not that he needs it, Lord Black and whatnot.”

“Harry?” Hermione hovered a few feet away.

“He’s been released directly into St. Mungo’s for treatment, for exposure to dementors, malnourishment, and potential trauma.” He released a slow breath, collapsing back on the floor. “He should be clear and free by the end of the school year.”

He blinked up at the ceiling, ignoring the tears that were beginning to fall. “He’s free.”

 

It was early for dinner, so early that only two professors were sitting at the staff table, chatting quietly as the Slytherin Heralds filed in.

As soon as they sat, Hedwig flew in, awkwardly balancing a long package in her talons.

A very obvious package.

When she dropped it in front of Harry, a bowl of soup spilling from underneath it, Marcus stood from his seat at the Gryffindor table with Oliver and the Weasley twins and started making his way towards them, climbing over the tables to do so.

Vector sighed, calling for him to at least be careful as he went.

Harry drank half a glass of water, ignoring the package. 

Hermione pulled a rolled up parchment tied to it. “Early Yule present?”

Marcus finally stood over them like an overgrown child on sugar, shifting his weight between his feet and poking Harry’s shoulder.

“Open it.”

Harry looked down at the poorly wrapped present in front of him.

It was clearly a broomstick.

“What do we think it is?” Harry asked the table, smirking when people began to snort into their drinks. “I’m hoping for a puppy. Puppy, puppy, puppy-”

His chanting faded as he stared at the brand imprinted on the handle, silver lettering on a dark mahogany wood.

Even Marcus froze behind him.

Until he started to laugh.

“Oh, Oliver is going to hate this. I can’t wait to tell him.”

Harry reached forward reverently. 

Ron skimmed the note that came with it. “Sorry for the chaos. Usually the chaos I make is a bit less serious, and a bit more… Sirius. Don’t tell Minnie I’m giving Slytherin an advantage over my lions like this. Maybe you can see me over the hols? I’d like to get to know my godson. Happy flying, Padfoot.”

Theo looked between the broom and Harry. “Is that wise? He just got out of prison, do you really trust a broom he’s sending you?”

Harry waved him off. “Look at Marcus. Do you think he is going to mind casting a few detection spells if it means I’m flying on this next game?”

Hermione, at the mention of Quidditch, pushed a plate of mashed potatoes towards him.

He rolled his eyes with a soft smile and filled his plate. “Marcus, mind taking a crack at it? It will probably require a test run when you’re done, as well.”

Marcus didn’t hesitate to grab the broom. “I’ll have Snape look it over after me and Avery are done with it. Eat up, shortstack, we need to start practicing some new plays if you’re on this.”

Harry ate a bite of roast beef pointedly as the eighth year nearly sprinted from the Great Hall.

Pansy dropped a bread roll on his plate. “So, Lord Black? He just… tells you he’s innocent, and you believe him?”

“Well, it’s not a question of whether I believe him, seeing as the Wizengamot cleared him.”

She sighed. “But you believed in him, before he was even arrested.”

“It didn’t add up, Pansy. The only thing that made anyone believe he was guilty was his last name.” He turned to meet her gaze. “And we both know I don’t have a habit of basing my decisions on those.”

“You’re a madman, Hadrian Potter-Black.” Pansy shook her head. “You choose to be loyal to people without a second thought.” 

Ron leaned forward, filling both of their glasses with a wink. “That’s because he’s only got the one to spare.”

Harry took a forkful of mashed potatoes, turned it around in his hand, and very carefully flicked it across the table.

It caught Ron in the chin, luckily missing his slightly open mouth.

The table froze, until Neville, who was sitting on Theo’s other side, inched forward. “Nice, Ron, but it’s a bit late for a Dumbledore costume. Halloween was two months ago.”

Ron inhaled slowly, clearly trying to fight a smile.

A spoon in a dish of gravy suddenly sprayed the entire other side of the table, Ron cackling as he gave it another flick towards Harry.

Theo froze, looking down at his clean pressed shirt now dripping with sauce.

Pansy, however, grinned. She grabbed another bread roll, and, with a throw that would have made the Chasers on the team jealous, lobbed it across the hall to nail George in the back of the head.

Hermione sighed and tucked her book safely in her bag, casting an impervious over it as she kicked it under the bench.

Just in time for a pitcher of water to tip over their heads.

She squeaked and looked around, mouth agape as she caught a poorly-hidden laugh coming from Cedric, who had clearly walked in just as the bread flew. 

Vector and Sinistra didn’t even try to stop the food fight, simply casting a shield along the table.

The house elves didn’t seem to mind, as the food kept appearing, even some dishes that weren’t originally on the table, like beans and meatballs.

No one noticed a few minutes into the fight, a side door opened, admitting Snape into the room.

He took a single, long look at the projectiles flying.

And then he turned on his heel and left the room.

 

The weeks leading up to the Yule holidays were educational for many within the castle.

Even beyond the expected lessons from… well, their lessons.

After the tense stand down with Snape, Harry had taken exception to the slight fear surrounding the werewolf lesson. 

While he wasn’t about to stop the assurance that accompanied someone carrying silver in the class, he had dived even further in research on the topic, having Millie look up case studies and legal precedents regarding the treatment of registered werewolves.

“You don’t even like Lupin,” Ron frowned one day, as another law book thunked on the library table.

“Actually, I haven’t decided that yet. But either way, it’s not fair that misinformation is getting spread about werewolves. Just because a few are assholes doesn’t mean they all are.”

Justin swished his pen. “Hear, hear.”

A few nights before the train was set to leave, Flora Carrow appeared in the doorway of the lounge of the third year boys.

“Potter.”

He looked up. “Hey, Flora. What’s up?”

“Avery asked me to grab you. Rowan started asking questions about Yule, and she said if she was going to do a culture lesson, we might as well grab everyone who needs it.”

No one got much sleep that night, as the culture lesson turned into a well-meaning debate about the pros and cons of muggle holidays versus tradition, covered all the holidays in the wheel of the year, and delved into the question of magic versus magick.

Hermione and Harry both had hand cramps from writing for hours by the end, but had nearly an entire notebook filled with questions, opinions from various other students, and things to research further. 

Which led them to the Ravenclaw tower the next evening, where another debate broke out, in even more detail, and even more vague references to barely known cultural traditions.

This discussion had lasted well past dinner, which no one left the room for, and even past curfew, leaving the two to sneak back to the dungeons at nearly one in the morning. 

The two, and Neville, who had come looking for them when they didn’t show up for dinner.

The three, and Luna, who had decided to spend the night in the second year girl’s lounge again.

Harry had sidled up to Typhon Avery with an innocent smile, but the prefect had snorted. 

“You miss curfew, you find your way home. I don’t care if you get points off. Just be glad I’m not taking any off for you being here now.”

His face fell into a blank expression. “Thanks, Ty. You’re a model prefect, someone we can all look up to.”

“Have fun,” Avery called after them as they filed out.

Neville closed the map. “It looks clear if we go down the Grogan Knight passage.” He shoved the parchment into his paper. “Shall we?”

“Staying on our couch tonight, Nev?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah. Dean has been getting up early to work out, and if I wake up one more time to him doing presses in the corner, I’m going to find that patch of Devil’s Snare.”

Harry snorted. “You’re more than welcome, mate.” He looked down the hallway before nudging a suit of armor with his foot. 

The stones groaned as the passage opened, barely wide enough for the teenagers to slide through.

A few meters in, it widened, leading to a winding set of stairs, spitting them out a floor above the Slytherin common room.

Harry tried to get the dust out of his hair. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and waved her wand with a muttered spell, clearing it from all four of them.

Luna began to skip ahead, Neville a few steps behind her.

A pointed cough came from behind them.

“While I admire interhouse friendships, you four are out after curfew.”

They froze at the sound of Lupin, sounding smug and content.

“And, you happened to drop something.”

Harry turned, spotting a folded piece of parchment in his hand. “Nev, brother of mine, I could throttle you.”

Neville followed his gaze, and immediately groaned as he started patting his pockets. “Sorry, Harry. I forgot my expanded bag in Ravenclaw tower, and these robes don’t have the best storage. Must have fallen out by Grogan.”

Hermione sighed, leaning against the wall. 

Luna just hummed, eyes darting around in the air, most likely watching some creature around their heads.

“Is there any chance I could get that back?” Harry asked, nodding towards the map.

Lupin gave a mock-wince. “Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, I can tell this is magical. And as your defense professor, it is my duty to ensure the security of my students. I should take this, make sure it’s safe.” He smacked it into his hand a few times.

Hermione inhaled sharply, biting a nail.

Harry just gave a polite smile, just slightly too wide to be honest. “Of course. But you know it’s safe. It was yours, after all, professor.” 

Lupin froze, the smug smile fading fast. “You are extremely well-informed, Mr. Potter.” 

Harry tilted his head. “You have no idea, Moony. I’ve learned that to be otherwise is more dangerous than being so informed.” 

Before the man could respond, another shadow fell down the hallway from behind their backs.

“And what do we have here?”

Snape’s voice, even with the tension between them, made Harry relax slightly.

Almost instinctively, all four shifted towards the Potions Master.

“Ah, Severus. I simply found these four wandering around after hours. I was just about to assign them detention. Tomorrow, perhaps? Before the holidays begin?”

Snape didn’t even glance towards Harry as he moved forward, between Lupin and the students. “I think not. I am a Head of House, they will serve the detention with me. Tonight, seeing as they do not seem to be interested in sleep.” He turned. “Follow me.”

Hermione didn’t even bother looking at Lupin as she headed towards the dungeons, Luna’s arm in her hand. 

“Good night, professor. Happy new moon!” Luna called as she was dragged away.

Neville stumbled, moving in step with Harry. After a few turns, he leaned towards him. “Sorry, Harry. I thought I had it.”

Harry waved off his apology. “It wasn’t doing us any favors. Nothing that we couldn’t do before without a little more work.”

“But Pettigrew-”

“-is smart enough to avoid showing up on it. Especially since he helped make it.” Harry nudged their shoulders together. “It’s fine, Nev. Promise.”

Neville worried at his lip. “We can still summon it, can’t we?” 

“But then he’ll know,” Harry replied, “and we don’t want him in our business more than needed. Worse comes to worse, we’ll send Fred and George to reclaim it in a few weeks.”

They filed into the potions classroom, pulling their robes closer at the sudden chill.

Snape flicked a hand, a fire on the side wall lighting up. “Minimal talking. Work on your assignments, read quietly. You have an hour, for perception’s sake. When you next see Lupin, at least pretend you were properly reprimanded.” He opened the door to his private office. “Don’t need me.” The door closed behind him.

Harry rolled his eyes, but pulled out his research journal and a book on Mesopotamian reptiles.

Hermione, flicking through the latest Quibbler, started tapping her fingers against the desk. 

With every tap, the fire flickered. 

Neville watched her nervously. 

Luna had pulled a pudding out of seemingly nowhere, eating it gleefully.

Harry kept scribbling. 

After a moment, Hermione turned to look at Luna with a thoughtful expression. “Luna?”

The Ravenclaw hummed around her spoon. 

“Does your father know anyone that could help with Buckbeak’s trial? Surely your family has connections in the magical beasts world.”

“Sure. Daddy knows quite a few. I’ll write him tomorrow.”

“Or if he just has any advice. Justin and I are doing some research this week, Millie too, when she can. Looking for precedent for self-defense of animals versus wixen.”

“I still can’t believe a hippogriff is getting a trial, when Sirius had to wait twelve years for one,” Harry muttered, pushing down so hard on the page, the pen broke through.

The room fell silent again. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Wake me up when the hour’s done. Or if there’s something I can blow up.” He closed his books, pulled his blanket out of his bag, pillowed it on the desk, and laid his head down.

 

It was with a grin and a flourish, Harry signed his name on the list to leave campus for the holiday break. 

Ron rolled his eyes and signed his own, just underneath. “Mum and Dad are thrilled you’re coming for the break. As if we don’t have enough of us running around.”

“I’m just glad Dad is willing to take me to St. Mungo’s to meet Sirius. I was worried, after the summer.”

“He’s just being a dad, Harry. Overstepping boundaries and making you feel guilty for doing what he doesn’t want you to.”

“Sorry for not having the best dad experiences.” Harry snickered when Ron turned pale.

“Harry-”

“Merlin, Ron, take a joke.” Harry punched his shoulder. “Susan would have loved that.”

“You two are insane, so excuse me for not laughing along.” 

“I’m going to the greenhouse to study for a bit. You coming?”

Ron shook his head. “Ginny wants to practice, I promised I’d keep for her and Rowan.”

“Rowan’s wanting to try out next year?”

“I think. Either that or they have a crush on Ginny, and I’d rather not consider that.”

Harry snorted. “They’re both too young for that. I’ll catch you later.” He nudged Ron’s arm before jogging down the hall.

Ron looked after him with a sigh, but turned to grab his heavy robes.

 

The outer greenhouse was warm, Harry reading under a large tree as Neville tended to some project that had begun to crawl out of Greenhouse 2 and towards the entrance to the Central Hall.

Theo had started the afternoon with them, but Pansy had stopped in to drag him towards some upper year that had gossip they would only give to someone with a last name that their father cared about.

There was burbling from the fountain further in, the occasional shifting from some of the plants, but overall it was a calming quiet.

Not an environment Harry could let sit for too long.

“Hey Neville, can I ask you something that’s potentially upsetting and invasive?”

Neville snorted, but set down his shears and faced him. “With an introduction like that, how can I say no?”

Harry bit his lip, knee shaking. “Over the holidays, while I’m visiting Sirius… can I meet your parents?”

Neville blinked, before furrowing his brows. “You… you want to meet them?”

“Of course!” Harry replied, confused. “Yeah, they’re war heroes, but… Nev, your mum is my godmother. She’s family, just like you. I don’t know the specifics, but I know they're on Ward 49. That doesn’t matter to me. I’d like to meet the people who you came from, my parent’s friends.”

The Gryffindor was still blinking, still confused. “I mean, I’ll ask Gran, but I don’t see why not, if you really want to.”

Harry stood, hesitantly walking over to his godbrother. “Neville, I want to meet your parents.”

Neville sniffled before wrapping Harry in a hug. “Yes, of course.”

 

By the time the first morning of holiday broke, everyone was ready to leave. Only a dozen students were set to stay in the castle, mostly fifth and seventh years needing to study.

Harry had his trunk shrunken and in his bag at his side, slinking after Ron and Ginny, who were telling him their favorite snacks Molly was planning to make.

A shift of shadow in his periphery alerted Harry to Snape lurking just out of view outside the common room.

He placed a hand on Ron’s arm, leaning in. “I’ll be out in a minute, don’t leave the castle without me.”

Ron frowned at him, but looked past to see Snape, and nodded, leading a frowning Pansy out the door, Ginny following behind with a roll of her eyes.

Harry shuffled towards the professor, not even questioning when the man turned and started down the corridor.

They ended up in one of the practice rooms. 

Snape didn’t turn to face him.

“I had thought I had warned you against your father’s friends.”

Harry dug his fingernails into his palm.

“And yet I find you doing extra lessons with Lupin, alone? And off to visit Black, in the hospital, no less?”

“Lupin offers an advantage, sir.”

“And multiple risks, Mr. Potter. You know what he is.”

“Yes, sir. But I also am not some sheep that cannot see past the Ministry lines that a werewolf is inherently dangerous just because they lose control for six hours during one night a month.”

“Until you have been face to face with one during those six hours, I would suggest you not assume you know best just because you read, Potter.”

Harry eyed him, the stiff line of his shoulders as he stared out the frost-covered window.

“And you have?”

Snape turned enough to glare. “A present of sorts, from your adoring godfather.”

He scoffed. “So, what, a prank gone wrong made you turn to the Death Eaters?”

The man turned quickly. “Do not diminish my experience. I nearly died.” Shadows seemed to grow within the room. “And in regards to your other comment, you have no idea of what you speak.”

Harry crossed his arms, shifting back. “So you’re telling me, if you were to lift your sleeve, I wouldn’t see some ink?”

Snape’s gaze sharpened. “Has Lupin been spilling secrets?”

He rolled his eyes. “If he had, it would be warranted, seeing as you spilled his. But no. I’ve known about your… association since halfway through year one. I’m in your house, sir. I’m friends with your godson, I’m well acquainted with multiple kids whose parents fought alongside you, and who want to be in my good graces. Just because I take calculated risks, don’t insult me, thinking I’m an idiot.”

“Ah. So you, a thirteen year old, think you know enough to calculate the risks of spending time with a werewolf and an escaped convict after a decade of dementor exposure.”

“Plenty of silver, hanging around the castle. And it’s not as if I’m meeting Sirius in the middle of a forest, with no back up. It’s a hospital. Chaperoned by a Ministry employee.”

“You’ll forgive me for not trusting your safety with Arthur Weasley.”

Harry exhaled through his teeth. “What is the point of this conversation, sir? I have a train to catch.”

“The point, Potter, is be mindful. You are playing with fire, and I doubt you have Miss Granger’s ability to control it.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Harry sneered, ignoring Snape’s pointed warning. “How is it that you started teaching?”

The man’s jaw clenched.

“Obviously Albus had enough influence to keep you, a marked follower, but couldn’t even get a trial for Sirius?”

“The man almost murdered me.”

Harry slammed his hand on the table next to him. “Fine . And he served time. Was that not enough? Not only did he go to the worst prison in the country, on the continent, but it meant I suffered for a decade as well. Is that not enough for whatever grudge you’re holding?”

Snape sneered. “Watch your tone.”

“Watch me leaving.” Harry turned, adjusting his bag. “Happy holidays, Professor Snape.”

He left without another word from either side.

 

“Harry, why is there a vial of suspicious yellow liquid with a sticker of a skull and crossbones on it?” Hermione asked, one hand still in his bag.

Hannah cringed just looking at it, turning to look out the window at the passing landscape.

“I still haven’t decided if Severus is getting his Yule present or not.”

Ron shifted away. “And what is it?”

“Ooh!” Luna leaned forward, eyes wide. “Bai is clearly an ancient basilisk, to have venom this potent.”

Everyone shifted away.

Hermione just sighed. “Please tell me this vial is charmed?”

He shot her a blank stare. “I’m a potions nerd, Mione. Of course. All my vials are charmed to be unbreakable, even with poisons.”

Susan snorted. “I don’t think you have to put potions in that sentence, Hadrian. You can just say you’re a nerd. We know.”

She also got a blank stare.

Justin looked up from his book, not aware of the conversation as he started another. “Okay, so last year we learned there are magical snakes and magical spiders. Are there other animals that are magical? Like, are there magic fish in the lake?” 

“Merpeople.” 

“Creatures, not animals, don’t be a dick.” 

“Sorry, Hadrian. But surely there are magical fish. So what?” 

“Justin, don’t tell me you started this conversation just because you want to eat a magic salmon.” 

“I just wanted to know!” 

“Surely there’s something unethical about eating any being that contains magic.” 

“Anything with a higher through process, sure. But we use tons of magical plants in our potions, and you don’t seem upset about that. What’s the difference if it’s a fish only found around high concentrations of magic? It's not like it's going to talk and beg you not to kill it.” 

“...I really need to stop eating meat.” 

“You say that but wait until we take you to get a burger at that American diner a few blocks away from the Leaky.”

“Ooh, should we all meet up over the hols? Maybe dinner for New Year’s?”

 

It seemed that even just a month in the hospital was doing wonders. Between three meals a day, a warm bed, and the mindhealer on call that visited him every few days, the nurses on the floor swore he was on the track.

Even if he was a major flirt and tried to prank the staff by making his vitals fluctuate to different songs that played on the radio in his room.

Arthur had made Harry wait outside of his room, so the two men could talk quietly.

Harry waited impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet until Arthur opened the door.

“Sirius!” Harry raced in, stopping at the end of the bed with a grin. “Congrats on the cleared name. How are you feeling?”

“Feeling like I’m going to jump out the window if someone asks me that one more time.” His voice was quiet, but he was grinning back. 

Harry narrowed his eyes as he considered the window. “I don’t think they open…”

“Accidental magic can be a terrible thing, after a decade in prison I can’t be expected to control myself.”

He snorted at the innocent face Sirius was attempting. “I think you’re a little out of practice.”

“I’ve got time to work on it, now. Thanks to you.”

Harry and Arthur settled in the chairs on either side of his bed, and chatted quietly for a while. It wasn’t long before Sirius nodded off, drooling slightly onto his pillow. 

Arthur pulled out one of the muggle For Dummies books that he had received for Yule the year prior. Harry yawned, trying to get comfortable, until he caught a glimpse of movement in the form of a familiar form.

Seeing Neville through the window, Harry patted Arthur’s shoulder. “I’ll be back. Madam Longbottom is taking me to meet Alice and Frank.”

Arthur looked up, surprised. “Oh. That’s…”

“It shouldn’t take long, Arthur. I just wanted to meet my godmother.”

He blanched. “Of course, Harry. Very kind of you.”

Leaving the awkward tension in the room, Harry ducked out and grinned at Neville. “Hey. You ready?”

Neville gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. C’mon, Gran’s at the lift.”

They headed that way, in a comfortable silence. When they reached the Longbottom Regent, Harry bowed slightly.

“Madam Longbottom, thank you for allowing me to meet my godmother and her husband. I’m sure this is a sensitive time for your family, and I cannot begin to tell you how honored I am to be a part of it this year.”

She sighed before placing a strong hand on his shoulder. “You are family, Hadrian. In another time, another world, you would have seen them as another set of parents.” She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to fight back tears. “These past few years, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like, having you and Neville underfoot like you should have been.” Her hold on his shoulder tightened. 

He reached up to squeeze her hand with his own. 

 

The Janus Thickey ward was almost oppressively quiet. There was a weight on the air, a sadness that permeated the entire floor.

The Longbottoms didn’t even pause as they navigated.

Neville gave one of the nurses a hug as she gushed about how big he was getting.

Augusta made small talk with another, mentioning the need to catch up over tea.

Harry just followed behind, pulling his beanie further over his forehead.

There was no need to draw attention to himself, not here.

(Not ever, in his opinion, but definitely not in a place of mourning for lives still living.)

They turned down a hall, into a section labeled Long Term Residents.

Augusta opened a door and strode in.

Before they crossed the threshold, Neville stopped, taking in a deep breath.

Harry grabbed his hand with a squeeze. “Introduce me to your mom?”

Neville gave him a soft smile. “Yeah.” He pulled Harry through. 

The room was covered in drawings, letters, even a few vases of bright flowers. 

Pictures were scattered around as well, Neville in various stages of his life. 

Harry even spotted a few with him grinning from the side.

On one of the beds, Frank laid, staring blankly up at the ceiling as a young nurse manipulated his limbs. 

The nurse looked up with a smile. “Augusta, Neville! You’re early this year.” She gestured for Neville to move forward. “Come say hi to your dad. He’s having a bit of a bad day, this might help.”

Neville blushed with a glance towards Harry, but sat beside his father’s bed, whispering to the man.

Augusta stood at the end of the bed, clutching her purse. “Sarina, this is Neville’s godbrother, Hadrian. Had things been different, Alice would have been his godmother. He wished to meet her and Frank.”

Sarina’s gentle expression turned towards him. “Aw, that’s great! Alice!” She turned, and Harry noticed the figure humming behind a curtain in the corner. “Alice, come meet Hadrian.” 

Harry walked over slowly, eyeing Neville. At his friend’s supportive nod, he stopped at Alice’s side.

She was still beautiful, hair braided in a crown on her head, cheeks full and eyes bright.

Sarina nudged Harry forward. “She’s usually quite a bit more active than Frank. We think he was exposed for a little longer.”

He nodded, before raising a shaking hand to skate his fingers over Alice’s arm. “Hi, Aunt Alice.” He stepped forward, lowering his voice. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. I’m Harry. I’m James and Lily’s son.”

Alice hummed, a tuneless melody, scattered notes. 

“I just wanted to meet you, to thank you for being such a good friend to my parents. I hope I can visit you again.”

A few moments of humming, and he nodded. “It was an honor, Aunt Alice.”

He turned to leave, but the humming changed, and Alice was suddenly looking at his shoulder, one hand .

Sarina chuckled. “She wants to give you something. Hold out your hand.”

He did, hand still shaking.

A wrapper dropped into it, a bright green and crumpled.

Neville shifted. “Oh, that’s from her chewing gum.” He looked at Alice fondly.

Augusta watched Neville. “She would chew gum near constantly when she was pregnant with Neville. It helped her calm her indigestion. She gives Neville a wrapper every time we visit.”

Harry looked down at it. “Nev-”

“No, it’s okay, Harry. I’ve got tons. She’s your godmother, and you deserve to have a piece of her too, as small as it is.” He stood and walked over. “Hi, Mom. Harry and I are third years, this year. If you can believe it. Almost halfway through our time at Hogwarts.”

“Neville is top of the class in Herbology, of course.”

“And Harry’s top in almost everything else.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right.” He turned to look towards the occupied bed. “Hi, Uncle Frank. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

They told Alice and Frank all about their year, about Harry meeting Sirius, the Quidditch season so far, their friends.

Augusta cleared her throat from where she was chatting with Sarina. “Say your goodbyes, you two. I have tea to get to, and Hadrian, I’m sure Arthur is eager to get home.”

Harry bowed to Sarina. “A pleasure to meet you. Thank you for introducing me to Aunt Alice. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

She winked. “See you around, kid.”

“I’ll step outside, let you two say proper goodbyes.” Harry closed the door behind him, leaning against the wall as he worked through a few Occlumency exercises to calm his mind.

The next thing he knew, Neville knocked his shoulder with his own. “You okay?”

“Course.” Harry looked past him to grin at Augusta. “Want to meet Sirius?”

She smiled sharply. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

Harry peeked his head in the room, lighting up when he saw Sirius awake. “Hey! You’re up!”

Sirius grinned. “Hey, prongslet. Arthur ducked out to visit his cousin working on another floor, he’ll be back to take you to the Burrow in a bit.”

“Cool. Did you ever meet Madam Longbottom?”

He blinked. “Frank’s mom? Maybe in passing, at the station. Heard loads, though. Why?”

Harry opened the door a little wider. “You’re meeting her now.” He snickered when Sirius’s face paled rapidly. “Gran, Nev, meet the newest Lord Black. Sirius, Madam Augusta, Regent of Longbottom House, and Neville, her heir.”

The two stepped in, Neville stopping by Harry as Augusta moved forward, feathers on her hat twitching menacingly.

She met Sirius’s eyes. “Lord Black. Frank was rather wary of you in school. Thought you used your name to get away with infantile pranks and bullying.”

Sirius turned red, fist clenching in his blankets. “Still better than what most of my family used the name for.”

“Hmm.” She looked over her shoulder, where Harry and Neville were watching with raised eyebrows. “And Hadrian’s placement in Hogwarts, that won’t be an issue for you?”

She wasn’t even finished talking before Sirius was shaking his head. “I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m not going to say I’m the most mature, or that I don’t have some… prejudices towards some families, with the way I was raised.” He looked past her at Harry, eyes soft. “I lost a brother from a stupid house rivalry, I’m not about to lose another’s son to it as well.”

“And his friends? I understand he’s friends with Heir Nott, as well as an Avery or two.”

Harry bit his lip as Neville turned bright red at the mention of Theo.

Sirius nodded. “Harry’s made his own family. I trust his judgement until I have a reason not to. Potters have a knack for picking good people, even if their blood might not be. I just hope he lets me be a part of that family.”

Harry’s eyes flickered towards him, then looked to the safety of Neville, who was grinning at him.

Augusta, for as short as she was, straightened slightly and seemed to fill the room as she stared down at Sirius in his hospital bed. She sniffed and turned away. “I’ll expect to see you both for dinner this summer, at the very least. Perhaps a joint trip again, as Egypt was quite good for my old bones.” She patted Harry’s shoulder and left the room.

Neville rolled his eyes. “Her old bones, she says. She’ll outlive us all.” He followed her with a wink towards Harry and a nod towards Sirius.

Harry laughed as he went, and moved to sit in the chair next to the bed. “Last year may have been traumatizing, but it did wonders for his confidence.” He furrowed his brow. “Or maybe it’s the mindhealer.”

Sirius sat a little straighter. “What happened last year?”

Harry blinked. “Oh. I forgot that the chaos of Hogwarts rarely actually makes it past the castle walls.” He hesitated, eyes flickering between his fists in his lap and Sirius’s expectant expression. “How…”

He sighed.

It’s now or never.

Surely, after the conversation in the forest, surely Sirius would put him first.

Surely Sirius wouldn’t trust Dumbledore over his own godson.

He looked up again.

Maybe not.

Maybe he shouldn’t tell the whole story…

But they told other students.

Harry swallowed harshly. 

If there was any hope for them to be close, be a family, there needs to be honesty.

He wasn’t Dumbledore. 

He didn’t keep secrets.

Not important ones, anyways.

Locking eyes with Sirius, he licked his suddenly dry lips. “How fond of Albus are you?”

Sirius frowned. “I mean, he was a decent headmaster. Always fond of a well-timed prank.”

Harry rolled his eyes with a snort, eyes falling again. “I mean as the leader of the light, or whatever.”

“Oh.” Sirius shrugged. “He did alright in the war. Knew who to ask favors of, who would be best suited for what tasks.” He leaned forward, eyes on the clenched fists. “What did he do?”

“Nothing.” Harry’s eyes darted up again. “But that’s kind of the point.”

“Tell me.”

He hesitated again.

“Harry.” Sirius reached, hand extended. It hung there awkwardly for a moment, until Harry raised a shaking hand to meet it. “I’m asking, not as your lord, but as your godfather. As your father’s best friend. As someone who should have been there, should have been fighting for you every step of the way. Who do I hurt?”

Harry shrunk, pulling his knees up in the chair, his hand the only extension of his curled up body. “I’ll tell you everything. But can you make me a promise?”

“Anything.”

“Can you keep seeing a mindhealer? Please?”

“Harry-”

“We’re Blacks, Sirius. Between the Madness and your time in Azkaban… You said you want to take me in. I don’t want to be worried, or… or scared that I might do something to trigger you, to make things worse.”

Sirius froze, grey eyes staring into green. His jaw worked back and forth until he looked down at their twined hands, at the bones of both of their wrists peeking out of sleeves.

“Yeah, Harry. I’ll tell my healer to set me up with a mindhealer when I get out of here.” 

Harry offered him the smallest smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sirius grinned, warm and light.

“Where do you want to start? Neville and the diary last year, the defense professor in my first year?”

Sirius’s expression fell, eyes glinting. “The beginning. Who left you with Petunia?”

Notes:

poteatthegeek everywhere you'd like to look.
comments, kudos, shares more than welcome, and, in fact, severely hoped for.
not my original story or characters, but they are currently my puppets.

Chapter 13: Mid-Term Musings

Summary:

A collection of letters and short scenes from the few weeks before, during, and just after the Yule Holidays.

Notes:

another week, another late chapter.
and, this one is rather short.
i had a sirius-ly intense migraine this week, and couldn't turn on a light, let alone type on a computer. so that cut my productivity down quite a bit.
BUT: i thought yule was a good time to throw in some random scenes and letters i couldn't quite fit anywhere else.
so here they are!
back to the plot proper next week.
hope you enjoy!

Delivered by an exhausted, pure white owl on her longest journey yet:

Aunt Haide,

I don’t know how easily you get British news in Kalale, but Sirius was cleared of all charges! He’s healing, now, but he swears he’ll be able to take custody of me by summer.

If not, we may take you up on your offer to smuggle me to India.

Even if he does, I think it would do him good to take the holidays to travel. Especially to our favorite aunt. Maybe with a pitstop in America, I have a friend in New York who swears their Indepence Day celebrations are worth dropping everything for.

I can’t wait to meet you in person. Sirius has told me quite a few stories about growing up visiting you, and he’s even started relearning his Kannada, so we can practice speaking it together.

I told him that we’ll have to make visiting a regular thing, because I insist on learning all of your recipes. I love cooking, and having actual family recipes to learn would be… I can’t begin to tell you how meaningful. 

Especially learning them from a beloved aunt.

I hope you’re prepared for how many questions I’m going to have. Not only regarding our family, but also Kalale, Indian culture, the magical differences… well, pretty much everything.

Thank you again for reaching out last year, and for every letter since. I know I’ve mentioned before how lonely my previous family made me feel. I haven’t felt that loneliness in quite a while, and you were a large part of that.

All my love,

Your Hari

P.S. Please send more chai! Or tell me how to make it properly. The elves here can’t get the blend quite right.

 

Gathered around a Christmas tree in the Burrow, a mop of dark hair in a sea of red:

“Here, Harry, this one’s for you.” George tossed him a present, wrapped in Doctor Who paper.

Harry grinned. “Hermione.” He frowned at it, spotting a note. “It’s too light to be a book.” Opening the note, his brows turned quizzical. “For when you’re living with Sirius and need your space.” 

Ginny watched him from the couch nearby. “What, some kind of spell or something, to ward your door?”

He shrugged as he started peeling back the paper.

They all burst into laughter as the paper gave way to a muggle sign, outlined in red with bold black words.

No dogs allowed.

 

Somehow delivered via an old, demented owl that crashed into a muggle mailbox just outside of London:

Emma, I know you’re worried. I know that Hermione’s incident last year must have been terrifying-I can’t imagine sitting at home not knowing what’s going on. But Arthur and I have agreed that we’ll be the first to explain anything and everything you may have questions about.

On the bright side, I know that our boys will take good care of her in the meantime. You should have seen how they doted on her during the hols. My Ron has never been one for schooling, but he followed her and Harry into far too many museums and libraries this summer. He even listened to the debate that broke out about mythology versus religion, which, of course, he didn’t half understand, as the wizarding world is on the whole unfamiliar with… christmasity? All I know is that Percy was thrilled to have Harry and Hermione along, if only to entertain him while he was unable to write his little girlfriend.

I would like to welcome you and Dan round to ours, let’s say once a month? We can talk about the letters the kids have sent us, any questions you all have. It seems these three children of ours are going to be joined at the hip for the foreseeable future, and I’d like to offer the Burrow as the magical home for all three. That way they’ll have a home in the wix world, and the mundane one with you. Ron already seems fond of you two, and we adore Hermione. It’s no trouble to host whenever needed, or simply when any Granger wants a safe place to visit family.

Arthur wants me to tell you all he wants in return is answers about muggle traditions, he’s obsessing about something called Pancake Day…

 

The Slytherin table, right after Harry, Luna, and reluctant Cedric got back from a trip to the Forest:

“Honestly, Hadrian, I would have thought you’d have grown out of surrounding yourself with other houses by now. Have you even spoken to another Slytherin in the past four hours?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco as he bounced on his feet just behind Ron, nearly vibrating as he usually did after exploring with Luna. “Isn’t it more Slytherin to make friends with other houses? More of a finger on the pulse of gossip, easier to manipulate who you need when you have backing in every corner. Also I don’t think you can reasonably say shit to me about hanging out with your cousin.” 

Draco just looked pensive, but Hermione rolled her eyes, not stopping her search for the book Harry had asked for. “Harry, while that is a wonderful point of view, please, for the love of Morgana, stop hanging out with Pansy.” 

Pansy smirked at her from across the table. 

Daphne sighed from where she was discussing homework with Theo. “Honestly, Hadrian, sometimes I think you’re such a Gryffindor that you out-stubborned the hat into putting you here just so you could prove there’s good in Slytherin, too.” 

He grinned, putting an elbow on Ron’s shoulder so he could lean in. “And where’s your little sister?”

She huffed, eyeing the exchange of Hermione handing him some book on muggle genetic science. “Sitting with the badgers.”

“Point made.” He shot her a wink and disappeared to another table.

“How do you lot keep up with him?” she asked, scanning the Heralds around her.

Ron chuckled. “Why do you think we’ve made friends in other houses? There’s always someone keeping an eye on him.”

 

The sixth attempt of this letter, from St. Mungos to an office on an upper floor of Hogwarts castle:

I’m furious with you.

Not about my incarceration. Not about you suspecting me. I can’t blame you for that. Things were dark for us all, that year, and it would be rather hypocritical of me, as I suspected you, too.

But for Harry’s sake. 

How could you leave him?

I nearly incapacitated three aurors because I was trying to get back to him that night.

And you didn’t even check in?

You took Dumbledore’s word, some unofficial command, and left him with Lily’s sister?

We met her, Remus. When she deigned to come to the wedding. She and her husband were absolutely horrid, and you let Harry grow up with that, unknowing that there were people who still cared.

I may never forgive you for that.

I know you’re going to spend the next weeks, probably, knowing you, avoiding any chance of responding to this. That I’m probably not going to hear from you for months. But I can’t wait for you to catch up, this time, Moony.

I want you back in my life.

I’ve thought about you quite a bit, these past twelve years.

But Harry is the most important thing to me, right now, and until I die . And he’s relayed your stilted conversations so far this year. His comfort is paramount. If he doesn’t want you around, then we’ll figure something else out.

We have a lot to talk about, to catch up on.

I hope we give each other the chance.

I miss you, Remus.

I miss you with every fiber of me. 

But we’ve both betrayed Harry, and I seem to be the only one trying to make up for it.

Merlin, I hope you start to try.

Write back. When you can.

Padfoot

 

A dueling room in the depths of Slytherin territory:

Hermione groaned, leaning back against the cool stone of the floor. “I still wish you’d let me ask.”

“He comes back after every lesson,” Ron argued, panting against the wall, “and recounts practically every word. You don’t need to be in the room with him.” He shook his hand, trying to stretch out where he had been gripping his wand for so long. “Lupin’s a friend of his parents. Let them have quality time.”

“He doesn’t even like Professor Lupin.” 

“He didn’t like Snape either, at first. Just let him be the one to invite us if he wants. Merlin, Hermione, and you say I’m bad at emotional shite.” 

She sat up and glared, but before she could respond, the door opened, Harry spilling in. 

Ron immediately brightened. “Hey, how’d it go?”

“Nothing yet. The light was the brightest it's been, but no definite shape yet.” He sighed, closing the door behind him. “And no, Mione, he didn’t offer any new insight on how to cast it.”

Hermione stuck out her tongue. 

Harry looked between them, at Hermione sweating and Ron still catching his breath. “Have you two been dueling?” He gave a mock pout. “Without me?”

“Only for a bit.” Hermione laid back down. “We haven’t been able to go for a run around the lake in ages and I refuse to run stairs. Dodging Ron’s hexes was a good alternative.”

Harry looked down, biting back a comment on releasing anger through the spells cast at one another. 

They still hadn’t really forgiven each other for the whole Crookshanks/Scabbers thing.

Instead, he ran his hand through his hair. “Have enough energy to practice the patronus for a bit?”

She grinned up at him from the floor. “Of course.”

Ron sighed as he headed towards the door. “I’m off to play chess with Vince while the game is on. Cannons are playing the Arrows. He told me he’s got a new notebook for his statistics or whatever.”

“Don’t let him make any bets with the upper years,” Harry called after him. “They always get mad that he sweeps them clean and then uses the funds for chocolate frogs.”

The sound of the door closing echoed throughout the room. 

Hermione let out a long breath. 

“You two doing okay?”

She hummed. “Can you braid my hair?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulled one of the few short stools in the room over to where she laid. “Luna only taught me the one so far, and I’m not very good yet.”

“That’s fine.” She sat up, scooting between his legs. With a huff, she pressed her forehead into his knee. “I miss him.” 

He started running his hands through her curls. “He’s still here, Mione.”

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest. “It’s not the same. He’s still… so off. It’s like… the first train ride all over again, the first week, when things were awkward and we didn’t know what to say, what would set each other off.”

He divided her hair, using hair bands he’d stolen from the second year girls’ lounge. 

He didn’t notice her eyes close as he worked. 

“Even if that’s true, it didn’t take long before you two started clicking. Just… be patient.”

She scoffed. “Have I ever seemed like the patient type?”

“You are when it comes to us.”

 

A letter added to bit by bit, stuck in a muggle evolution textbook in Harry’s bag:

Rolf,

Sure, evolution makes sense. But how do you explain nature… selecting the traits needed for a thestral? Is there any evidence for magical selection? And would that explain why some creatures are only found in magical areas?

And then there’s creatures that we aren’t even sure exist, even magically. I think I’ve mentioned my friend Luna-her father runs the Quibbler here in the UK. They’re convinced there’s entire species we don’t even know yet. You should hear how descriptive they get about nargles.

Speaking of creatures (then again, when do we not talk about creatures?), your grandfather is a genius. The world already knew that, but his newest edition of Scamander’s Encyclopedia is enchanting, to say the least. The stories he adds in, about his own experiences with the animals, about his time in New York-how your grandmother didn’t murder him, I’ll never know.

Thanks again for getting him to send me an early copy, I don’t think I could have waited til next year to read this masterpiece.

In other news, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my godfather is in a position to take custody of me now. And I know that he would be more than happy to take a trip to America this summer. Maybe we can finally meet in person?

Maybe we can watch Jurassic Park! Even if you’ve already seen it, I know you spend time in ‘no-maj’ New York. I would love to dive into the realism and possibilities that the story hints at. Surely between the two of us, we can come up with a research project to bring some kind of dinosaur back. Magically.

Oh, and have you mentioned anything to Mr. Scamander about my friend Hagrid? Surely he knows of some precedent for trials against magical creatures…

Hufflepuff common room, surrounded by finger foods and not-so-subtle glances:

“I’m fine.”

“Neville, you had a panic attack. After last year, that’s perfectly normal.”

Harry sighed. “Mione, that’s not going to help. A lot that you do does, but telling us it’s normal doesn’t make it feel normal.”

Susan nudged a tray of small sandwiches towards Neville. 

Hannah just watched with a fingernail between her teeth.

Neville looked around. “I’m fine. Smith made a comment, it set me off. I’m fine now.”

Ron frowned. “Mate, you look like a brick wall, you’re so tense.”

“I’m fine.”

Harry stood, picked up a pillow, and handed it to Neville. “Hit me.”

“What?” 

“Hit me. Hard as you can. Come on.”

Neville looked down at the pillow in his hand, and back at Harry. “Why?”

“Believe me. It’ll help. Hit me.”

He swung, almost experimentally, hitting Harry on the shoulder.

Harry laughed. “Come on, Gryffindor. Like you mean it.” 

Neville rolled his eyes, but took a harder swing.

It felt… good.

“Again.”

He pulled back, swinging harder, enough to make Harry take a step back.

Harry grinned. “There we go.” He snapped, and with a roll of his eyes, Ron threw him another pillow. 

Neville braced himself. 

Hannah gasped as the pillow hit the back of her head.

“Hadrian!”

“Come on!” He laughed at her furious expression before turning. “Hey, Sol!” 

The upper year turned, bottle of butterbeer in their hand. “What, Potter?” 

“Pillow fight?” He tossed the pillow in his hands towards them.

The bottle fell, spilling over the lush carpet. 

The pillow was in their hands.

The Heralds present all tried to hide their laughter.

“That was my last bottle, you absolute berk.”

Harry shrugged, smirk wide on his face. “Oops.” He nodded towards the pillow.

Sol sighed, but stood.

An hour later, Neville had laughed so hard, he swore he had broken a rib in the fight.

But he went to sleep that night with a smile.

 

Written with a hand shaking in trepidation:

Aunt Cassie,

I didn’t know who else to write to. And I definitely didn’t know an easy way to start this letter.

I’m Molly’s youngest son, Ron. We’ve met at a few family events, but I’ve no doubt you meet dozens of red haired kids you have some semblance of blood relation to.

Dad overheard me and my brothers talking about ritual magicks, and he told me that you still did quite a bit. That they were important to you. He then mentioned that we are planning on visiting you this upcoming summer.

Would you be willing to teach me?

Not only about rituals, but also any family traditions?

I know this comes out of the blue. I know this seems like some random kid buttering you up for something bigger.

But I can only tell you that I’m completely serious. I want to learn.

Magick is bigger than spells we learn at school. Even if that’s not something the general public knows. And the best way to master magic is to know all of magic. 

And even if Mum and Dad don't follow family traditions, even if I decide not to as well, I can’t think of any harm in knowing them. 

It’s more than many of my friends have the option to do.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Extremely sincerely,

Ronald Bilius Weasley

 

A secluded corner of the library, far enough from Pince to talk… and eavesdrop:

“What in Merlin’s name are you lot doing?”

“Shh!”

“Ty, come here!” 

Avery ducked behind a stack, joining his two Ravenclaw yearmates in peering between shelves at the group of Slytherins seemingly in the middle of an argument.

He peered over Caroline Grissom’s shoulder at the notes she was scribbling furiously. “What is that?”

She grinned back. “I’m taking notes on this, of course.”

“On what?” He looked closer at the shorthand a few Claws years back had developed to take notes faster. “Are they… are thirteen-year-olds arguing about actual politics?”

“Not blood purity, not creature equality, but actual politics. Granger asked one question, twenty minutes ago, and they haven’t stopped.”

Paul Travers rolled his eyes. “Imagine a Malfoy and a Weasley debating the benefits and detriments of Wizengamot legislation and its effects on rural communities in the wixen world.”

Typhon scanned Caroline’s notes. “Aid to low income families, the effects of ritual banning on wixen culture, risks of minimized auror presence in outlying communities…”

“I think Bones is about to owl her aunt for a crime analysis report regarding number of aurors and distance from major cities.”

“And Granger’s not involved?”

“No, she’s taking as many notes as Lina. Can’t take over the world if you don’t understand how it works. Who better to give you a crash course than Bones and Malfoy?”

“With Weasley thrown in for some balance.”

The three fell into a silence, listening to the Slytherins.

Travers scoffed. “Potter’s insane.”

“Potter’s not even here.” 

“Yeah, but you know those four are his, and you know that. Granger and Weasley are barely not at Potter’s side, Malfoy is his bloody cousin.”

Grissom tapped her quill on her scroll. “You’ve heard, right?” She looked at Typhon. “I mean, your cousin is close with him.”

“Shh!” Paul knocked her shoulder. “It’s dangerous to talk about that, out in the open like this.”

Ty’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” 

She leaned forward, voice lowered even further. “The Grey. He’s bringing it back.”

“Potter?” 

“How have you not heard?” Paul asked, glancing over their shoulders to check for any sign of… well, anyone. “Erin even wrote my sister about it.”

“I didn’t think it was real-”

“Well,” Caroline scoffed, “believe it. With Lord Black free and cleared of charges, the entire balance of the Wizengamot is on a knife’s edge. His heir, the supposed poster child of the light, in Slytherin, gathering children of both sides?”

“They’re going to cause a revolution.” Travers worried at a nail. “We have to tell people.”

“We definitely do.” Caroline grinned. “They’re going to change everything.”

 

Random (terrifying) questions that would have been overheard if anyone knew how to bypass the wards on the Nook:

“Okay, if you were imperiused to lie, but then given veritaserum, would you lie or tell the truth?”

“Is it too soon to use ‘I’d rather be petrified’ as a comeback?”

“Could you cook a magical steak in a cast iron skillet with the right ingredients?”

“Would a bubble head charm work on the moon? If you could solve the lack of atmosphere issue, of course.”

“Do you think I could get paid retroactively for taking down Riddle? There was bound to be a price on his head, right?”

“So we know werewolves and vampires are both real. Is there any truth to the myths that they despise each other?”

“Can you make vodka infused Bertie Botts Beans?”

“If a metamorphmagus figured out how to grow wings, could they fly?”

“Do you think people get permission to write muggle fiction books about the wix world? Like, Roald Dahl?”

“If I hire a magical painter to paint a Where’s Wally portrait, do you think we could get away with having him hide around the castle and giving house points to whoever finds him?”

“What if Willy Wonka was behind getting the dementors to protect the school because it would increase chocolate sales?”

“You can cast spells in other languages, right? And runes in other symbols? Could you theoretically cast and do runes in Tolkien’s elvish?”

Notes:

not my og plot/peeps.
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere.
comments, kudos, hearts, tumblr questions, all very much appreciated and adored.
plot proper next week, and in the meantime, be regal miscreants :)

Chapter 14: New Year, Same Chaos

Summary:

It may be a new year, but what is usually left for healing and new beginnings turns sour as relationships grow taut.
All Harry wanted was a nice, calm year.

Notes:

look! another chapter on a friday!
i'm so good at this author thing...
thanks for all the well wishes about my migraine last week! i have slayed the beast... for now...
also, apologies if ron (or anyone) seems a little OOC here. i'm doing my best to keep the original personalities of these kiddos while molding them into their slytherin alternates. hopefully i do them justice.
a bit of a shorter chapter than i've been churning out, but hopefully you enjoy anyways! :)

It was an unspoken agreement that led them all to the Nook the first full night back from Yule.

They had all brought blankets and pillows, and extra practice with a cushioning charm. 

Dobby had somehow talked Tweak into helping him make an array of snacks and finger foods to supply, even bringing large cushions that had gone unused after common rooms had gotten remodeled. 

The room was alive with chatter, comparing gifts, homework, and class schedules for the next term.

Susan skipped in, parchment curled in her fist, smiling widely as she stopped beside Hermione. Hannah ducked in behind her, pulling Justin in by the hand, both rolling their eyes. Harry narrowed his eyes at their linked hands, but Susan was soon distracting him by waving a piece of parchment in front of his face. 

“You’ll never guess what Auntie finally gave me.” 

He pulled back, trying to focus on her. “An exhausting level of energy?” 

“Nope.” She held the paper out to Hermione. “The basic runescheme for the note-swapping system the Wizengamot use during sessions.” 

Harry and Hermione swapped eager glances. 

“Really?” Hermione grabbed it out of her hand. “And she said we can use it?” 

Susan nodded. “If we can figure out how to make it work outside of the ingrained magic of the Ministry. A Yule present for us all.”

Hermione immediately started scanning it. “This is… way above what we’re learning right now.”

“Of course it is,” Harry responded, reading over her shoulder. “It’s most likely been built on and perfected over hundreds of years. Able to write notes and decide to keep them private, send them to someone in particular, or blast them across the entire Wizengamot…”

“Do you think we can inscribe it into a set of notebooks or something?”

“We’d have to figure out if we can add more later on, or if all of them have to be linked before the runes are activated.”

Hermione looked up at them, grinning. “You know what this means?”

Half the room responded, most not even aware of what they were discussing. “Research.”

 

“Very good!” 

The light of Harry’s patronus faded, the ball of magic disappearing back into the mild darkness of the candle lit defense classroom.

Lupin clapped, smiling at Harry proudly. “It won’t be long until it takes form, I’m sure. You just have to set on a better memory.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Working on it.” 

It was hard, thinking of happy memories. Even though his friends had spent the better part of the past two and a half years beating his own worth into his head.

Even the happy memories were… tainted. With a lingering sense of doubt.

“Anyways.” Harry stood, picking up his bag. “As usual, I appreciate the tips. The space to work on the spell. It still feels quite… draining.”

“Of course, of course. Make sure to get plenty of rest tonight.” Lupin moved to the front of his desk, watching Harry pack up his things.

“Listen, Hadrian…” He was clearly hesitating. “About Sirius…”

“Professor, I’d really rather not talk about him. And definitely not to you. He mentioned he hasn’t heard from you.”

“I-”

As Lupin flailed for a response, Snape's humiliated story filtered back into Harry's mind.

Eyes darting to the professor, Harry weighed his choices.

It's not like he was planning on truly cultivating a relationship with Lupin, anyways. Not unless he figured out what was going on with Sirius.

Harry cleared his throat.

“If you insist on discussing the past, sir, can you tell me about Peter?”

“...Peter?”

“Pettigrew? He was barely mentioned in any of the stories I’ve heard, and Sirius is rather stiff on the subject.”

“Well, what would you like to know?” Lupin leaned back, expression an odd mix of guilt and nostalgia.

“What was he like?”

“Well, he was quite... quiet. To be honest, your father and Sirius tended to steamroll over him a bit. The two of us spent quite a lot of time following after those two, trying to keep their chaos to a minimum.”

“You mean their pranks?”

Lupin smiled. “Yes. They were quite adept. Quite a bit like Fred and George, come to think of it. Anything that moved with a green tie was open season-” He stopped, mid-sentence. “Well. We were just kids, of course. Hard to see past black and white at that age.”

Harry worked his jaw. “And Peter?”

“We didn’t prank him, if that’s what you’re asking. He was one of us, even if he didn’t quite click like James and Sirius did.” Remus let out a breath. “He meant a lot to us. To all of us.” He laughed to himself. “Once, this would have been… sixth year? We all stayed up for three days straight, trying to get him to ask out this Ravenclaw he had a crush on. We had plans, and contingencies, and quite a bit of firewhiskey. It didn’t work, of course. Her boyfriend showed up just as he was asking her to Hogsmeade. We then had to help him through the heartbreak. Said boyfriend ended up singing soprano whenever he spoke.”

“You pranked a lot of other students.”

“Well, yes.” Remus laughed awkwardly. “Tensions between houses were quite high, and Sirius and James loved to make our classmates laugh. Peter and I were usually in it for the challenge of succeeding.”

“What about your fifth year?”

Lupin stilled. “What do you mean?”

“With Professor Snape?”

“Who…” He cleared his throat. “Who told you about that?”

“Does that matter?”

“Well… What you need to understand, Hadrian, is that we were children. Severus was… I’ll admit, an easy target. Especially after he fell out with Li-” He trailed off, eyes wide.

“I’m aware he was close with my mother for a time. You don’t have to act like it’s some crazy secret.”

“Once again, Hadrian, I have to say. You are extremely well informed. More than I would have expected Albus allow you to know.”

“That’s the difference between us, Professor. I don’t allow Albus to dictate the nuances of my life. You were saying? Fifth year?”

“What all have you been told?”

“That your… how does Sirius put it… your furry little problem was involved?”

Remus staggered back, practically collapsing in a nearby chair. He put his head in his hands, sighing. “I… I still look back on it as my one regret, all throughout my school years. I’m sure you know about the rest, their animagus forms. They did it for me. To help me through my transitions each month. This was before the wolfsbane potion existed. Even if it had, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Sirius…”

“Of course.” Harry shook his head, scoffing. “Sirius.”

“I suppose he thought it would be funny. To terrify Severus. To make him face me one full moon. He had Severus convinced that we were doing something in the Shrieking Shack, something that he could finally catch us with, to get us in trouble. James found out, just in time, and convinced Sirius how dangerous it was. Sirius distracted me as Padfoot while James pulled Severus back to the castle.”

It was Harry’s turn to sit, staring blindly down at his shoes.

They needed to be cleaned.

Polished.

Lupin was saying something further, something about the follies of children, of a simple mistake.

Maybe he should invest in dragonhide boots, to wear outside. His school shoes weren’t quite cutting it.

“Hadrian, I simply ask that you forgive me. We all changed, after that. We all stepped up, became more responsible, more mature.”

Harry finally looked up at him. “Forgive you? For just… existing? How did you forgive Sirius?”

“What-”

“He risked your secret, your… your safety at the school. He put another student’s life at risk, for something as inane as scaring him. What if you had hurt Snape? You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself, I know that, and I’ve barely known you four months. Sirius, after four years, should have realized how damaging that would have been for you.”

He stood, beginning to pace. “And you all obviously still graduated, as if nearly killing another student isn’t grounds for expulsion.” 

He didn’t notice how the room had begun to get colder, the weight of his magic beginning to stir on the air.

“No wonder Snape hates you. Did you even apologize? Did Sirius?”

“Hadrian-”

“Obviously that’s no excuse for him, or any Slytherin to turn evil, but you lot certainly didn’t make it easy on him. This is Ron, first year, all over again. How do you expect to change their minds about what side to be on, when you make it impossible for them to be on yours?”

Lupin looked at him, dumbfounded. “You think Severus turned against the Light because we pranked him?”

He stopped in his tracks, staring back. “It wasn’t a prank. It was reckless endangerment.” 

“James stopped anything from happening.”

“Why are you making excuses? This is your secret! You could have killed someone, without even realizing! Sure, no one actually got physically hurt, but you think that makes it better, that he was face to face with your werewolf form, but at least he didn’t bleed?”

“I’m not-”

“I’m sorry. I can’t be here right now.” Harry spun on his heel, heading towards the door. “Thank you for telling me.”

The door snapped closed behind him as a rush of cold wind swept through the room.

Lupin shuddered before reaching for a bar of chocolate.

“Harry, you’ve got to talk to her. She’s impossible.”

Harry looked up from the biology textbook Dan and Emma had sent him, words about Mendel and genetics still swimming in front of his eyes as he blinked at Ron. “What?”

Ron just gestured to the other side of the table, where Hermione had half a dozen books surrounding her as she sat on the floor of the lounge. “She thinks she’s found the origin of bloody house elves!”

“Language, Ronald,” Ginny sighed, tossing a practice quaffle up in the air as she sprawled across the couch.

“Why are you even in here? Go bother Luna, or hang out with your own yearmates.”

Ginny pushed herself up on her elbows. “Hermione told me I could hang out in here.”

“Hermione technically shouldn’t be in here, either,” Vince called from his room, his door opened. Greg, who had taken over his bed with a muggle superhero comic, kicked Vince’s chair.

Everyone rolled their eyes.

“Besides, Luna’s in detention for disrupting Herbology class because she saw a groveling brumslug, Preston is in the boy’s lounge snoring like the Hogwarts Express, and Elena is trying to teach the other girls how to do some muggle dance.”

“Which one?” 

They looked over to where Hermione was highlighting a line in one of the books, cap in her mouth, not even glancing up.

“Uhhh…” Ginny frowned. “It sounded like a pasta. The macaroni?”

Harry burst into giggles, Hermione snorting so hard the cap flew across the room, nailing Theo in the temple.

He shot her a blank look. “Ow.”

“Oh, sorry Theo!” Hermione gasped, before laughing again. “Ginny, I think you mean the macarena. It was a popular song from last year.”

Ginny just shrugged. “Whatever. What did you find out?”

“Oh!” Hermione sat up, organizing her books. “Well, I was looking into folklore, after Finnegan mentioned… well, the Welsh version of the Grim. And I found a section about brownies. I think a lot of the myths about brownies are based on muggle interactions with house elves.”

“Huh. That is really interesting.” Harry leaned forward. “Maybe Aunt Amelia can let us dig into the Ministry archives, see if there’s anything from past legislation about brownies rather than elves.”

She grinned at him, before her eyes skated over his shoulder, face falling.

Ron, mouth set firmly, was reading a newsletter from the Chudley Cannons, clearly ignoring the conversation.

Harry followed her gaze and sighed silently, eyes falling closed. 

All he wanted was a nice, calm year.

“Ron, any good news with the Cannons?” Harry called.

Ron’s shrug did nothing for anyone in the room.

Ginny rolled her eyes on the couch. “Berk,” she hissed under her breath, only Harry and Theo able to hear her.

Hermione blinked back unshed tears as she watched her friend across the room. “I read that Ragmar Dorkins is considering managing the team next season.”

The room froze.

Hermione Granger had just offered new information about quidditch .

About the Cannons.

Ron looked up in shock, meeting her watery eyes, before his jaw closed from it’s gaping position and tightened. “I hadn’t heard.”

Hermione’s book slammed closed. “I’m sorry, Ron, I am. I realize I’ve been… difficult, this year, but I just think there’s more to life than chess-”

“Oh, sure. Difficult. That’s one way to put it. You’ve been picking at me all year-”

“Like you’re any better-”

“I’m passing all of my classes, get off my back!”

“It’s not just that! You have so much potential-”

“It’s not like I’m wasting it, Hermione, I’m being a teenager!”

“You can be a teenager while still taking every opportunity-”

“Just because I have a life outside of you, you anorak leech-”

“Oi!” Half the room turned to Ron in various states of outrage.

He looked down, face flushed.

Hermione took a shuddering breath. “I’ll leave you to your reading, then.” She stood, adjusting her skirt. “I’ll be in the library until dinner. Harry, enjoy the game.” She left, her perfume almost turning sour as she disappeared from the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Ron slammed his hands down on the table in front of him. “Shit!” 

Ginny slowly straightened, sitting up. She glanced at Harry, and not seeing any censure aimed her way, turned to Ron with a perfect Slytherin sneer. “You, my dear brother, are an idiot.”

“Not now, Ginevra.” 

“Yes, now. And don’t call me that.”

“If you’re going to yell at me, just get it over with.”

“No, I’m not. Because I don’t think that’s actually going to make you feel worse than you already do. What I am going to say, you wilting pile of cabbage, is that you are digging a hole for yourself. And I’m not sure how long the rest of us will be willing to help you out of it.”

“Why are you having this talk with me, and not with her? I’m the one struggling!”

“Why are you still mad at her? Either Crooks did us all a favor and ate that traitor, or a grown man is on the loose. Yes, you lost your rat, but that’s not her fault!” Ginny forced her hand to release her wand. “We’re trying to be patient, Ron, but you’re completely insufferable!”

“I’m struggling!”

“And Harry’s not?”

Ron turned to look at Harry, whose leg was bouncing as the back of his neck heated, eyes flittering along the scattered photos and notes tacked up on the wall.

Ginny snapped her fingers in Ron’s eyeline, drawing his attention back. “If it’s affecting you this much, Ronald, you need to talk to someone, rather than take it out on Hermione, who obviously is trying to mend things.”

“Speaking of.” Theo stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m going to go check on her.”

Ron watched him go, face turning even more red. “Why’s everyone treating her like she’s glass? I’m the one who lost a pet, who turned out to be a murderer!”

Harry couldn’t come up with an answer. His fingers tapped the armrest of his chair in an erratic pattern as he stared into the fireplace.

“Whatever. I’m going to go find the twins.” Ron stood, eyes caught on Harry’s awkward fidgeting. When Harry’s gaze stayed locked on the fire, he sighed and left.

Harry sucked in a breath before leaning back, head hitting the back of the chair. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Ginny fell back with a huff. “This is horrible.”

“This school needs a mindhealer.” Harry ran his hands over his face. “For me, preferably.”

The room fell into an awkward silence, tense and stiff. Even Vince and Greg, who had ducked out of Vince’s room at the chaos, stood locked in the heavy discomfort still lingering in the room.

Harry felt his hands shake, his breath shorten.

It almost felt like a snake in his chest, curling around his lungs.

He forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Greg, fancy a walk into the forest until the game starts?”

Greg blinked. “Um. Sure.” He lumbered after Harry, shrugging at Vince’s confused expression.

 

An hour later, Greg regretted every choice that led him to being friends with Hadrian James Potter-Black.

“Hadrian, absolutely not. You are not bringing that thing into the dorms.”

Harry was cross-legged on the ground, Atticus in his hair, and a black niffler speckled with gold tints curled in his lap. “C’mon, Greg! Look, he’s adorable.”

“We have to go to the game.”

“I’ll come back for him!” Harry scratched the creature under its chin. “If he’s still here tomorrow, it’ll be a sign!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not covered anywhere in the Divination class.”

“Good thing I’m not in that class, then.”

Greg groaned.

Harry looked up at him with a pout.

Somehow, the niffler picked that moment to look up as well, eyes wide and shining.

“Hermione will kill me.”

“I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

He sighed. “This is going to end terribly. Keep it in one of the empty rooms in the dungeon if you must, but don’t tell anyone and start training it. And definitely don’t bring me into this.”

Harry was paying no attention, as he had pulled out his practice snitch and was using it to play with the niffler. “I think I’ll name him Dedun.”

 

It took another forty minutes for Greg to pull Harry out of the forest, covered in dirt and a spattering of blood where he had walked face first into a tree branch trying to get Atticus out of his hair.

Harry waved him off as they climbed the stands, quickly settling into their usual spot in the Slytherin section.

“Hey, Levi!” Harry poked the seventh year’s side. “Have you decided who’s going to take your place after graduation?”

Avery rolled his eyes. “Nah, not yet. The only people who have told me they’re interested are a little too… biased, even for snakes.”

“Hmm…” Harry scanned the crowd of green. “How about Rowan?”

The first year startled at their name. “What did I do?”

Harry waved them off. “Nothing yet. Give me time.”

They rolled their eyes and turned back to another first year beside them.

“Matthews?” Levi frowned. “Do they even know the sport? All they ever talk about is… basekitball or whatever.”

Harry snorted. “Basketball, and baseball. Two different things.” He leaned against the railing overlooking the field, not noticing how many of his friends instantly palmed their wands, clearly remembering his incident in his first year. “Rowan is quickly becoming obsessed with quidditch. And by the time they actually have to announce, they’ll be up to speed on stats, moves, practically everything you’d expect from a professional, let alone a school announcer.”

“Why don’t they try for the official position, then?”

“Nah.” Harry was already shaking his head. “Lee won’t give it up. I floated the idea, as a joke, at the beginning of term, back in September. He didn’t seem interested. Seems to think it’s his only way to stay involved, with pretty much all of his friends on the Gryffindor team.”

A squeal of an amplified microphone echoed around them, the crowds quieting quickly. 

“Speak of the devil,” Harry muttered.

Levi shot him a confused look. “Speak of a what?”

Harry stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head. “In no way am I qualified or patient enough to have a conversation about divinity right now. Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Shut up and sit down,” Avery responded, pulling out his wand.

The sound wards rose, a thick honey on the air as Lee’s excited voice dulled to a buzz just outside of the Slytherin stands.

Levi grinned as the Slytherins began to cheer.

 

The game was short, to say the least.

Hufflepuff was… flattened, which, for Cedric’s first year as captain, made his friends in the crowd wince with every additional Ravenclaw goal.

That didn’t stop Pansy and Justin, who had decided to sit with them, from conjuring flower petals and confetti whenever the Hufflepuff seeker drifted close enough to them. 

Cedric laughed every time a yellow petal landed in his hair.

Cho, usually flying just behind him, wasn’t as impressed with their adoration, shooting Pansy in particular furious looks.

As the two flew away, both catching sight of the snitch, Pansy leaned forward. “When are they finally going to just go on a date?”

Harry leaned back, using her legs as a backrest. “She’s dating Michael Corner.”

Pansy shrieked, making him wince and slightly pull his ear away from anywhere near her mouth. “What? How do you know that and not me? Corner? The Ravenclaw in our year?”

“Yeah. Neville was waiting for Anthony and overheard them in the tower making plans for Hogsmeade.”

She settled, hands idly trying to calm his hair. “Neville found this out?”

Harry shrugged. “People don’t tend to pay attention to him, unless they’re wanting to bother him about last year.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before stilling. “Hadrian Potter-Black, why are there so many twigs in your hair.”

 

Harry waved off the rest of the Heralds at the Great Hall, ducking instead back towards the dorms, in search of warmth and quiet.

The only other student heading that direction was a sixth year a few dozen meters in front of him.

Not a student that was very fond of Harry, but not one that ever did anything about it.

It was a gut reaction that made Harry shout at the glint of ink on the wall just ahead of them.

“Wait, Field, don’t move!” 

Harry was never more grateful for the unspoken authority he still somehow had in his house when the upperclassman froze, just out of reach of the rune scheme above his head. 

Even just a few weeks previously, he may not have done anything.

But Snape’s furious story still replayed in his mind, Lupin’s guilty confession, and he was dreading the conversations that were to follow.

“Give me a mo’, and definitely do not step forward.” Harry waited until Field nodded before he cast a modified levitation spell on himself, rising to the patch of ink over the doorway to the maze of Slytherin territory.

Harry took a marker from his pocket and altered two of the runes quickly, releasing a breath of relief when he felt the magic dispel. “Okay, you’re good. Watch where you’re walking, yeah?” 

Field blinked and just shook his head. “Whatever, Potter.” 

Landing and cancelling his makeshift flying spell, Harry quickly turned to the alcove hidden by a tapestry. “I know you’re holed up watching, come here.” 

George slinked out, guilt wracking his entire body. 

Fred, however, had his shoulders thrown back and anger on his face. “Do you know how long it took us to set that up? We skipped the game for it and everything!” 

“Not nearly as long as it would have taken Poppy to fix Field’s eyes after a round of doxy venom. What were you two thinking? Where’d you even get that stuff?” 

“It was just a prank, Harry, surely Padfoot has told you what that means-” 

“There’s a difference between a prank and assault, Fredrick.” 

“Don’t pull that shite, just because it was one of your precious snakes.” 

“Your brother is one of those precious snakes, and so is Ginny. How do you think they’d feel about this?” 

“I’d hope they’d get that it was a joke-” 

“If it ends up with a trip to the hospital wing, it’s not a joke.” 

“Why are you so bothered by this? You used to love our pranks.” 

“Because I don’t want you two to go down this road! I love the harmless pranks that wear off on their own, but this isn’t that. You have no idea what it’s like to be on the other side of that excuse. You think Dudley didn’t pull that shite? Oh, miss, I’m sorry about Harry’s black eye, we were joking around. If it causes actual harm, it’s not a joke. I thought better of you two.” 

“We are not your cousin. We know our limits.” 

“Right now, Fred, I can’t see that being true.” Harry’s eyes fell on George, who was staring at a patch of stone not far from his shoe. “And I don’t think your idea of your limits are the same. You might want to check in with your other half.”

As Fred whirled around to see the red rising in his twin’s face, Harry spun on his own heel and disappeared into the dungeons, a mix of disappointment and anger in his blood.

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere you can find!
my puppets, not my original cast/plots.
comments, kudos, shares, and yelling at me on tumblr much appreciated. :)

Chapter 15: Building Bridges

Summary:

Sirius and Harry have a heart-to-heart.
Ron makes amends, and not just to his two best friends.
Harry brings Hermione to one of his potions 'detentions'.
Maybe thirteen can end up being an alright year.

Notes:

yaaaayyyyy
a chapter on friday and not nearing midnight!
definitely haven't been sitting on my computer watching bar rescue compilations and eating cookout instead of posting this
...oops

“Harry!”

The group of Heralds, bracketing Harry in a loose circle, all looked up at the call. Harry grinned at his godfather’s approaching form from the bridge leading into Hogsmeade.

“Sirius!” He pulled away from his friends, rushing forward. “You told me you weren’t out til next month!”

“Surprise!” Sirius threw out his arms, spinning in a tight circle. “I still have to stay at Mungo’s overnights, but for the time being, I’m allowed…” He frowned. “What did the nurse say? Field trips?”

Hermione furrowed her brows. “That doesn’t seem like a normal thing, letting patients out for the day.” 

Sirius waved her concern away. “Outpatient procedure. I don’t know. I’m not a healer. Harry, going to introduce me to all your friends? Hello there, Neville.”

Neville’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Hi. Lord Black.”

“Sirius, please. I refuse to be called Lord Black unless absolutely necessary. So unless we’re in the Ministry or some Slytherin party, my first name is fine.”

“Sure.” Neville nodded awkwardly and stepped behind Justin.

Harry introduced all of his friends, not noticing how Sirius’s eyes skated across the house scarves in all four colors.

After most his friends bowed to Sirius and dispersed, Sirius turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a grin. “So, shall we buy out Honeydukes? Maybe Zonko’s?”

Ron laughed. “With these two, less Zonko’s, more Tomes and Scrolls.”

“No!” Sirius pouted. “Harry, don’t tell me you’d prefer books to pranks?”

Harry’s elation fell, but he gave Sirius a forced smile anyways. “Yeah, unfortunately. Still like an innocent prank now and then, but preferring books is what got you out of prison.”

Hermione wrapped a hand around his arm. “It was actually quite interesting, learning about the rite of due process in wixen court.”

Ron and Sirius both rolled their eyes as they began walking further into the village. Ron moved forward to tuck Hermione’s free arm into his, pulling her a bit aways from Harry, who sighed as Sirius matched his steps.

“Alright there, Harry?” Sirius kept silver eyes on him as they went.

He shrugged. “I… I know about what happened, your fifth year. With Snape.”

Sirius snorted. “Snivellus? What about it?”

Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alley. “This isn’t funny, Sirius. You could have killed someone, and used your supposed best friend to do it!”

Sirius blinked down at him. “It was a joke, bud. And it was like, fifteen years ago, at least.”

“Did you ever apologize?”

“To Snivellus?” 

“Don’t.” Harry’s voice dropped. “You may not like him, but he’s looked out for me, these past three years. Don’t use some awful nickname.”

“Looked out for you? I don’t know why he’s a professor, Harry, but he was dark back in school. Rumor had it he was a Death Eater, just like all his Slytherin friends.”

Harry looked down at his Slytherin sweater, glaring back up at his godfather. “I thought you said being Slytherin wasn’t an issue. And you, of all people, should know that dark doesn’t mean evil.”

“It’s not an issue!” Sirius sighed, starting to fidget. “Look, I’m not going to start a fight. I still have a lot to learn. The mindhealer…” He groaned, turning red. “Apparently I never had a chance to grow up. And a lot of my… mentalities are still tainted with childish views.”

“A good start to changing that might be using the man’s actual name.”

“Why do you care? Sure, he’s your Head of House, but-”

“Because I grew up like that!” Harry hissed. “I grew up with every person around me thinking I was dirty, because I was the Indian orphan, with secondhand clothes that didn’t fit and not willing to make eye contact. You think I didn’t get my fair share of nicknames?”

“Harry-” Sirius looked shell-shocked. “You didn’t tell me it was like that.”

“That was the other kids. That wasn’t even the Dursleys. Well… them, too, I guess.” Harry leaned against the brick wall behind him. “So I understand, at least on a base level. And it’s not like I’m thrilled with Snape’s behavior, either.” He shot Sirius a furious look. “But I also know what it’s like to have someone’s death on your hands. And it’s not a good feeling, even if I had no control over it.”

“Your parents-”

“I’m not just talking about James and Lily.” Harry sighed, amending the story, for now. “My first year, a professor was working for the Death Eaters. He was possessed by an evil spirit, and Albus swears he’d been dead for months prior. But he stopped breathing because of me.”

His godfather fell against the other wall, sliding to the ground. “Harry…”

“And to use a friend to hurt someone, all because of a joke-”

“Okay!” Sirius threw up his hands. “Okay. I… I have to think.” He pulled his knees to his chest, looking like a petulant teenager.

If it wasn’t for the bags still under his eyes, the haunted look in his gaze, the thinness of his limbs.

Harry ran his hands through his hands, eyes on the too-lithe form of his godfather.

Is this how his friends felt, looking at him after a visit with the Dursleys?

He threw a slight smirk on his face. “And you have to do that… right now?”

Sirius looked up, trying to focus.

“Because you did mention buying out a few stores…” Harry held out a hand. “Damaged goods go better together.”

Sirius snorted, before grabbing the hand and stumbling to his feet. “I have far too much money, we could buy the entire village and you’d still have an inheritance to rival a Malfoy’s.”

“I’ll have to tell Draco,” Harry replied, pulling Sirius back to the street, where Ron and Hermione were awkwardly conversing, doing their best to not devolve into a fight.

“That’s Narcissa’s boy?” 

Harry could tell that Sirius was distracted, but obviously still trying to be involved in the conversation.

“Hmm. Her and her husband’s pride and joy.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s still learning how to be a person, and not just a mini Lucius. We’ve had quite a few… conversations regarding it. Quidditch, for one, helps.”

Sirius lit up as Harry’s friends fell in beside them. “Ah, of course. You said you play, are you decent?”

“He’s fantastic,” Ron interrupted, hands starting to fly. “Almost made the team first year, would have been the youngest in a century. But Snape only let him train, not play.”

“Hasn’t lost a game since,” Hermione added, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, no.” Sirius stopped, a hand reaching to Ron’s shoulder. “I… I have to cheer against Gryffindor now.”

The three laughed.

“Well, might as well go all in.” Sirius looked around before grinning. “Harry, I don’t know if you know this, but I was the one who got you your first training broom, for your first birthday.”

“That’s insane, giving a one year old a chance to fly.” Hermione looked disgusted.

The boys both matched Sirius’s smile, especially as he waved Hermione’s concern away. 

Again.

“I hope that Firebolt is a decent start to make up for all the years I missed. Even if it means you’re going to flatten my team.”

Harry laughed. “Don’t feel too bad, Sirius. At least they have a chance to come in second. What’s your national team?” 

“Harpies.” Sirius’s smile turned sly. “Beautiful games to watch.”

All of the kids groaned at the innuendo.

 

An hour later, Harry’s bag was about to burst with purchases Sirius had insisted on.

None of them took any notice at the double takes aimed at the recently pardoned Lord Black.

Ron was chatting with Tabitha Waddell, a recent graduate working at the bookstore, whom he’d met at a chess tournament the previous summer. 

Hermione was lost in the stacks, somewhere in the folklore section.

Harry was scanning titles on heritage when his godfather’s hand reached over his shoulder to pull a book out. 

“Here, if you want.” He held it out for Harry to take. “Before you learn the family secrets, you should probably get history’s version of the family itself.”

Harry looked down at the book, a crest with a hand wielding a wand, and three black birds underneath. 

Black in Blood and Magic.

His head flew up, meeting Sirius’s smile. “Family secrets?”

Sirius shrugged. “If you want. You are my heir.” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “It would be an honor to teach you what I wish I’d paid attention to. It might help you in Slytherin. It will probably help me when I take over from Andi in the Wizengamot.” His hand landed on Harry’s shoulder. “It would also be an honor for you to carry the Black name. It’s been yours, technically, since James died. But I can’t blame you for not using it.”

“Seriously?” He blinked at the sudden feeling of tears threatening to fall.

Sirius grinned. “Oh, Harry. I’m always Sirius.”

Harry groaned, smacking the man’s shoulder with the book. “You don’t mind?”

“You’re my godkid, Harry. If you’ll let me, if the court lets me, you’re as good as mine. I’d love for you to share my name.”

“Hadrian James Potter-Black.” Harry tried it out, not able to stop the smile from creeping over his face.

Sirius matched him. After a moment, he nodded down at the book. “Do your research, which apparently you… enjoy.” He pretended to shudder at the thought. “We can go more in depth over the summer.”

Harry let the book fall open, looking through a few pages. “Ravens?” He traced a finger over the crest.

“Yeah, they’ve always been important to the family. Grandfather Arcturus actually bred some, gave them to a few members of the family. Reg had one for the longest time.” He paused, looking at Harry with a considering gaze. “There’s probably a lot of importance with the Potters, as well. It’s thought that you’re descended from the Peverells, who worshiped death deities. Ravens were pretty common with those. Still are.”

“Cool.” Harry frowned. “If I didn’t have Hedwig…”

“You can have two birds, Harry.” Sirius laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He didn’t mention the sudden tenseness in said shoulders. “Most families have half a dozen, at least.”

“Can we look?” Harry gave a pleading smile. “You need a bird, Sirius. What if you need to send me a letter?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon, we’ll stop at the menagerie.” 

 

Sirius even insisted on buying the three a warm lunch at the Three Broomsticks, giving Rosmerta a winning grin when she groaned at his entrance. 

“Sirius Black, if you cause even an ounce of trouble in my pub, I’ll have you out on your ass,” the owner called, barely sparing him a glance.

“Rosie, it’s like you don’t even know me!” Sirius responded.

She hummed in disbelief, but brought them a plate of steaming samosas before they even looked at their menus.

Sirius looked down at the plate with a small smile. “James always ordered these for the table. His aunt made the best homemade samosas, and whenever he was homesick, we’d sneak out and grab an order of these.”

Harry leaned forward. “Aunt Haide?”

“You-” Sirius’s jaw dropped. “You know her?”

“She wrote to me last Yule, and we’ve been swapping letters ever since. She’s invited me to visit, if I ever found a way.”

His godfather’s expression turned fond, snagging a samosa and practically inhaling it while they put in their lunch orders.

Hermione and Harry had swapped their stacks of books, looking through what the other had bought with a practiced ease.

Ron was updating Sirius on the Weasley/Prewett clan, including Fred and George, who were apparently extremely eager to meet the Marauder.

“Do they not know Remus is one?” Sirius asked, eyes skating over to Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not yet. I thought I’d let Lupin have as long as possible in peace before the twin terrors descended on him.”

“Twin terrors? They really must be giving us a run for our money.”

Ron groaned. “They’re infuriating.”

“I think they’re quite smart. Even if they don’t use it for school.” Hermione flipped a page.

“Really?” Ron glared. “How is what they do any different than what I do? What we’ve been arguing about for weeks?”

Her face darkened. “I-” Her eyes watered. “Sorry.”

Sirius looked toward Harry, who just shook his head slightly.

“Ah, Rosie! Food looks delicious!” Sirius called, and the entire table let out a silent sigh as distraction arrived.

 

Theo was waiting for them at the gates to the school, posture as he leaned against a stone column calm to anyone passing by.

If they didn’t know him, and didn’t see the tapping finger against his thigh.

“Theo?” Harry called, eyes skating around the area. “We didn’t expect an escort back.”

He rolled his eyes, moving to meet them on the path. “Hilarious. I think you’re bad luck, Hadrian.”

“How so?” Harry turned to press a hand against Ron’s open mouth. “Don’t start a list, you’re not funny.”

Ron pulled back with a frown. “Liar. It would have been hilarious.”

They turned back to Theo, who gestured back towards the castle.

As they walked, Theo put himself at Harry’s shoulder. “Someone ransacked the rooms. Again.”

Harry looked over towards him, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

“The lounge, Ron’s room, yours. None of the others.”

Ron groaned. “Harry.”

“It’s not my fault!” Harry argued, pushing at Ron’s shoulder. “I’m just existing!”

“That’s trouble enough!”

Harry shoved Ron’s side with an extended tongue, and then shrieked when Ron turned back to him with reaching hands.

“Anything missing?” Hermione asked Theo, ignoring the boys as they took off in a playful chase further down the path.

“Not that I noticed. I didn’t look in their rooms, of course, but the lounge didn’t have much in it anyways. We usually keep anything important in our rooms or the Nook.”

Hermione frowned. “What would they have that someone would look for? Or think to look for? And who could get through their wards?”

Theo stepped closer. “Have we heard anything about Pettigrew?”

“What do you mean? He hasn’t been found or seen or anything.” 

“He was one of the Marauders, right?”

“Ye… Yes.” She trailed off, eyes unfocused. “You think he was looking for the map?”

He shrugged. “It’s the only thing I could think of. The rat was already missing when Lupin confiscated it. So he wouldn’t know. For all he knows, we still have it. Hadrian still has it.”

“Why would he want it?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s still on the run. If he’s choosing to stay in Hogwarts, what better way to stay safe than have a map that tells him where everyone is?”

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “Does Professor Snape know?”

“Draco went and told him. He was examining the rooms when I left. Dumbledore was also on his way down.”

Hermione’s expression darkened. “Joy. Now we’ll be safe.”

Theo snorted, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “I remember that first week of school, you were so enamored with all the professors, wouldn’t dream of disrespecting one.”

“Well, I grew up.”

 

That night, as Snape patrolled the hallways with near fervent scrutiny, a lithe figure crept out of his room, heading towards the common room, looking back at his bed with a longing glance.

Hadrian’s voice had him freezing with one foot hovering over the first stair leading out of the dorms.

“Draco, what are you doing?”

Draco took a breath and turned around. “Cousin. You’re up late.”

“And so are you. Causing chaos?”

“Always. We are Blacks, after all.”

Hadrian strode forward. “Draco, when I said you needed to choose a side, I didn’t mean you had to throw yourself into rebellion like this.” His hand lifted, and Draco’s eyes closed as he felt fingertips trace the dark bags under his eyes. “You need rest.”

“I’m trying to help, Hadrian. Tomas is having nightmares and Rasheen is homesick and-” whatever he was going to say next was lost in a huff as Harry lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his cousin’s too-skinny frame.

“Help yourself first, Draco. You’ll do no one any good if you run yourself into the ground.” Harry pulled away with the first genuine smile he had aimed towards Draco since Quirrellmort nearly two years prior. “C’mon. Let’s grab the firsties and show them where the kitchens are. I talked Tweak into learning how to make special hot chocolates.”

Two hours later, Harry watched his cousin wave and close his door behind him. Leaning against his own door frame, Harry sighed.

“He alright?”

Harry didn’t even blink at the familiar sound of Ron, peeking around the corner from the next room.

“He will be. Ginny noticed him just… watching all the younger years. Apparently he’s decided he’s turning into Mum and is mother-henning anyone he thinks he can get away with. Not Ginny, obviously, she’d flay him alive, but even Marcus has been yelled at for drinking too much the night before a game. Merlin knows how Hermione hasn’t cursed him within an inch of his life.”

For the first time all year, Ron’s face was soft as he considered Draco. “He needs to look in a mirror.”

“I know, Ron. Maybe I’ll just sick Ginny on him. She seems to have an interest in keeping an eye on him, if only for Pansy and Theo’s sake.”

Harry took a good look at his friend. “Are you okay? I know everything about Scabbers-”

“Don’t call him Scabbers. Call him Pettigrew. It’s fine.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry we’ve been so rough on you. But you’re taking it out on her, and that’s not fair for either of you.”

Ron kicked the door jamb. “I know. I just…” He leaned his forehead against the wood. “Half the time I don’t even know what’s going on in my own head. I’ve been chatting with Minnie, when we play chess, and she helps, but it’s just…”

Harry watched him for a moment. “Do you want a hug?”

“Seriously?” Ron looked back, snickering. Seeing Harry’s solemn expression, his own fell. “Yeah, actually.” 

Harry ducked under his lanky arms and wrapped his own around Ron’s chest. 

A moment later, he felt Ron melt into his embrace, somehow folding himself down to hide his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been an utter arse to everyone, and this bastard hurt your parents-”

“Shh…” Harry squeezed Ron as tightly as he could. “It’s okay. I know.”

They stood there for a moment, in the late night quiet of the Slytherin dorms. 

Ron pulled back, eyes red. “How are you so calm about this?”

“Oh, I’m not. But there’s nothing I can do about him right now. I can, though, help you. And you don’t need more anger.”

“You’ve been reading some of Mione’s psychology books, haven’t you.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help others before I help myself, or some rot. Sirius is going to need it, too.”

“Of course he’s going to need it, and a mindhealer, he was wrongfully arrested after the death of his best friends at the age of twenty one and has been there for a decade.”

“Maybe my first official potion experiment should be something to combat long-term dementor exposure…” Harry trailed off, obviously starting to create a first draft recipe in his head.

“Why did I end up with two massive nerds as my best friends?” Ron asked the air before pulling Harry back in for another hug.

“Good taste. Are we over this now?”

“For now.” Ron rested his cheek on the top of Harry’s head. “At least until we find that… rat bastard. I want at least a decent punch in before he goes to Azkaban.”

Harry laughed, low and menacing. For anyone else, it may have been terrifying. 

To Ron, it was a promise.

 

The next morning, Hermione looked up from a pile of books to a dull thunk as a plate was placed on the library table in front of her.

“You keep nagging Harry about eating but you haven’t been at a meal in days. Whatever snacks Dobby is bringing you doesn’t count as a meal, Hermione Jean.”

She raised her suddenly wet eyes to meet Ron’s embarrassed blush.

“You care?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his very red neck. “I’m still fuming. And… hurt. But not at you. You can’t control Crooks, anymore than any animal. And I’m not saying I suddenly like your cat now, he’s still a demon. But even when I’m pissed, you’re still my best friend. So, yeah. I care.”

He had the forethought to cast a muffling charm as she stood and threw herself into his arms. 

“Ron, I’m sorry!” She burrowed her face in his shoulder, the rest of her plea muffled by his robes. “I’ve been beside myself trying to figure out how to fix this-”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to fix anything. Not alone. We’ll figure it out together.”

“But Sirius is still in the hospital and Pettigrew’s on the loose and Buckbeak-”

“I know. But you can’t help others until you help yourself.”

She sniffled, pulling back to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Who’s been reading my psychology books?”

“Harry. Now shush, and eat. After you finish, we can make a nice list of the things we still need to work on.”

“A list?” She leaned into him again, sighing when he wrapped his arms around her.

“With sub-bullets and everything.”

 

Ginny blinked, double taking at the sight of Harry walking in, obviously just out from the showers from practice with a sweater and a pair of joggers. “Harry, is that Hermione’s sweater?” 

Harry looked down at the lavender sweater, with a white H embroidered. “Hmm? Oh. Yeah. She got hot chocolate on mine, so I stole hers.” 

“Why was she wearing yours?” 

Greg leaned in from his room. “She steals everybody’s. She still hasn’t given mine back when she borrowed it during a quidditch game a few weeks back.”

“Steal it back, Greg,” Harry responded, reaching for the tea tray. “Dobby! Can I have some chai, please?”

A puff of smoke surrounded the table, revealing a kulhar of chai.

“Thank you!”

“Where is she, anyways?” Ron asked, stretching out on the couch.

Harry blew across his cup. “Percy asked her to help him and Penelope make study guides for NEWTs. She’ll be back soon, she wanted to come to my potions detention.”

Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at the obvious lie.

Ron sat up when Draco walked into the lounge, giving Pansy a hug before heading towards his room.

“Malfoy.”

The blonde froze, barely moving his head enough to see Ron’s soft smile out of the corner of his eye. 

“Fancy a match? I learned some tricks at a competition this summer, need someone to try them out on before I go play McGonagall again.” 

Draco’s eyes flickered between him, Harry, and Pansy. 

Harry just grinned at Ron, eyes bright. 

Pansy nodded emphatically. 

Draco cleared his throat as he straightened. “Cheers, Weasley. Something intellectually rigorous is just what I needed today. Give me a moment to grab my set.”

As soon as he ducked into his room, Harry was wrapping his arms around Ron’s shoulders. “Thanks.”

Ron pushed him away, face and neck bright red. “Shut up. I need practice. And Merlin knows you’re not going to give me a challenge.”

Harry rolled his eyes with a smile as he settled on the other end of the couch, sipping at his tea. “Pansy, any new gossip?”

She leaned forward with a grin. “Chang and Corner broke up.”

“Two days ago.” Ginny stole Harry’s cup. “Official reason is that his parents disapproved. Rumor has it that he caught her drooling over Cedric with Marietta Edgecomb one too many times.”

“Which, who can blame her?” Pansy responded. “I don’t even like boys and I can realize that is one fine Hufflepuff.”

“Even if you did like boys, Pans, you wouldn’t go for him. He’s far too noble for your tastes.” Harry stole his cup back. “You’d chew him up and spit him out within a week.”

She gave him an evil smirk.

The room fell into a content quiet, only the sounds of a flickering fire, turning pages, quill on paper, and the click of chess pieces against a board.

By the time Hermione bounced in, humming under her breath, Ron had barely eked a win over Draco, who shook his hand before going into his room for a book to take back to the common room.

Harry listened to Hermione’s humming with a grin. “Was Dean playing his mom’s Duran Duran album again?”

She froze before smiling. “I can never get Rio out of my head.” She stole his cup of tea, draining it. “Are you ready?”

“Well, now that I’ve finished my chai, sure,” Harry drawled, standing.

“Coming?” Hermione nudged Ron’s shoulder with her own.

Ron shook his head and pulled out his Yule present from Harry-a copy of Strategy by BH Liddell Hart. “If I want to make my head hurt, I’ll go watch Percy study.”

“He’s a lot calmer now, the study guide helps.”

“I’m literally making headache relief today.”

Ron ignored the two with a pointed flip of a page.

“He didn’t even read that,” Hermione muttered.

Harry pulled Hermione along. “C’mon, he’ll be furious if I’m late. I’m supposed to brew a bunch of the relief potion for him so he can make Lupin’s wolfsbane tonight.”

As they walked, he couldn’t help but notice the pointed looks she kept sending him. He sighed, stopping a corridor away from the potions lab. “What, Mione?”

“Have you two talked since the argument?”

“We had class three hours ago.”

“I mean, talked.” She poked him forcefully.

“Ow. No.” He rolled his eyes at her glare. “Fine. Stay here. I’ll grab you in a mo’.”

She grinned as he pulled away, sliding through the slightly open door to the classroom.

Snape barely looked up from his own potion. “I have not had time to get any of your things out of the storeroom. I am sure you can manage without my aid. I must stir this for the next seven minutes.”

“I…” Harry cleared his throat. “I would like to apologize, sir. For my comments before the holiday.”

The man’s posture tensed significantly. “Concerning?”

“Uh… Everything?” Harry winced. “I realized, slightly too late, that it isn’t too far-fetched to believe that we grew up in similar circumstances. And I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my cousin’s so-called pranks veered into dangerous at some point. I was…” He kicked his shoe at where a piece of stone tiling was beginning to pull out from the rest. “I was blinded by the excitement of having a guardian who might actually care. Who could get me away from the Dursleys. And while we may not see eye-to-eye on Sirius himself, your experience was valid and I shouldn’t have dismissed it.”

Snape sighed, rolling his eyes. “Do not act as though your temper tantrum caused me emotional distress, Hadrian. I have been in charge of teenagers for nearly your entire life. There is little one can say to influence me.”

“I may have read both Lupin and Sirius the riot act about it. Neither seemed to realize how… severe the event could have been.”

“I have not needed either of their understanding for fifteen years, Hadrian. I do not need it now.”

“Well, I do. I don’t want someone to be making decisions on my behalf if they can’t have basic reasoning. And in regards to your… associations, I have no judgement. You have done a decent job in protecting the students of this school, even if I would prefer less verbal abuse towards my friends.”

He only got a dismissive wave in response. “Not likely to change, for multiple reasons.”

Harry grinned. “So we’re good?”

“Yes, we’re… good.” Snape sneered. “Start brewing. Poppy needs at least three batches by the end of tomorrow, and I will be unable to start any until after lunch.”

“Can I ask a favor, first?”

Onyx eyes glared from behind the steaming cauldron. “What.”

“May Hermione join us? She has a few questions about the essay you returned this afternoon.”

The professor let out a sound that no one would admit sounded akin to a pained groan. “If she must.”

Hermione walked in a minute later, waiting patiently until Snape was at a stopping point in his brewing and looked up at her expectantly.

She immediately threw her essay on his desk. “What do your comments even mean?”

Snape’s brow raised. “How tough is your skin today?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Rhinoceros.”

Ten minutes later, Harry was multitasking, throwing dittany into multiple cauldrons in between furious scribbling in his notebook.

“Your problem, Miss Granger, is not your inability to brew. It’s that you maintain that you must follow directions step by step. That is why Hadrian is excelling more than you, because he twists the instructions for efficiency.” 

“That’s what directions are for, professor.” 

“Perhaps, but without the creativity of reading between the lines, nothing new will ever come to exist. That is what makes the great come from the good, Miss Granger. And right now, you are only good at potions.”

Snape’s gaze darted up. “Potter! You are supposed to be brewing, not doodling!”

“It’s resting before I add the next ingredient!” Harry whined, pen clutched in one hand. “And I’m taking notes!”

“Then you won’t have a problem writing twelve inches on our discussion tonight by your next class Friday.”

Harry’s jaw worked, but shrugged. “Fine.”

“And no help from Miss Granger, I’ll know.”

He had to stop himself from sticking out his tongue at the professor.

Notes:

not my og characters. though most of the plot in this one is all me.
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
likes, comments, kudos, shares, messages on tumblr, any validation is much much MUCH appreciated
i need a nap now :)

Chapter 16: Meeting Heroes

Summary:

Harry and Luna meet a guest of Hagrid's.
Hiding out in the Gryffindor Tower wasn't as peaceful as Harry was hoping.
Another Hogsmeade trip with Sirius.

Notes:

wooooooooo another chapter!
fun fact, the first scene in this one was one of the first scenes of this entire SERIES that i wrote.
gotta keep my boy as obsessed with animals as i am :)

One dusk, just before curfew, Harry and Luna tumbled out of the Forest right behind Hagrid’s hut, hoping that the new professor would walk them into the castle so they wouldn’t get in trouble for being out late. They were chatting about the new thestral that they had the honor of watching being born. 

Harry thought he would have been put off at the sight, but the rush of magic that flooded the clearing when it happened, being able to see a new life take its first breath… It was an exhilaration more intense than facing down Riddle either of his previous years. Luna and he were arguing over possible names for the calf when they noticed Hagrid and a tall, thin man talking outside of the hut, Fang sniffing around a suitcase that the man had by his feet. Noticing the two students, Fang bounded over, tail wagging. Harry and Luna just kept arguing, petting Fang as they walked up to the older pair. 

“Hagrid, tell Luna we aren’t naming the new thestral calf Lucky.” Harry stalked up to the professor with crossed arms, Luna beaming behind him. 

“Oh, hello Mr. Scamander, it’s a pleasure to see you again!” Luna’s dreamy voice broke through Harry’s pinpoint focus. 

He turned away from a bemused Hagrid to eye the older man he had dismissed before. “Apologies, sir, I didn’t realize we had a guest on campus. Luna, you know him?” 

Luna skipped up to Harry, linking their arms. “Harry, this is Newt Scamander, he’s an old friend of my father’s from back when Daddy was a licensed magizoologist.” 

Harry suddenly swore to himself to apologize to Hermione for even once making fun of her when she was starstruck over people who wrote their textbooks. “Newt Sca-Scamander?” 

The other man shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, hello Luna, a pleasure as well, to see you again. And to meet your friend.” He eyed Harry speculatively. “Will he be alright?” 

Luna giggled at Harry’s expression. “Mr. Scamander, you’ll have to excuse Harry, here. He’s becoming quite a big fan of yours.”

“Ah. Thank you, I suppose?” Mr. Scamander took a half step backwards, barely managing to avoid knocking over the briefcase on the ground beside him.

When Harry failed to even breathe, Hagrid coughed awkwardly. “Right, well. Newt here is jus’ helpin’ me with a few talkin’ points for the trial. Havin’ the world’s best on record sayin’ Buckbeak was only protectin’ himself might go a long way.”

“That’s wonderful, Hagrid. I’m sure Mr. Scamander will be a credit to the defense. Hermione had mentioned possibly owling you, sir, when she learned that you know Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore. I hope you don’t mind that I asked Daddy for your owl address.”

Mr. Scamander just gave a half smile. “Happy to help, in any way I can. Besides, Albus owed me a visit, I thought I could make the most of a trip out here.” His gaze flitted back to Harry. “You know you have some dirt on you, yes?”

Hagrid and Luna both laugh, Luna brushing off Harry’s sleeve as if that would make a difference. “Harry is always covered in dirt nowadays. He’s either wrestling with the strays he picks up or is trying some new spell or ritual that ends horribly.”

Harry shook his head, coming out of his daze. “It doesn’t always end horribly, and if it does, it’s not usually my fault. Besides, you’re one to talk, Lovegood. You’re always right there with me.”

She pulled away a bit, hands resting on her impeccably clean pink dress with radishes along the seams. “Really, Potter-Black? You want to go there? I’ve got plenty of stories that end with a little more than dirt.”

Harry blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Mr. Scamander froze. “Potter?”

“Oh, many apologies, Mr. Scamander, I never got around to introducing myself, seeing as Luna didn’t bother.” He dodged her pinch at his side with a cackle as he moved forward, hand extended. “Hadrian Potter. As Luna mentioned, I have read your works rather… extensively. And annoyed Rolf, I’m sure. May I ask you a few questions? Particularly about the notable lack of any studies concerning the differences between mundane snakes and magical ones, though that’s just the first one that comes to mind. Has Hagrid shown you the thestral population here? We just came back from feeding them, they have a new calf in the herd, she’s adorable. Oh, and is it true that you breed nifflers? In a controlled environment? How long did it take you to get them comfortable enough with you to start breeding? The one we hid in the dungeons won’t sit still long enough for me to even start trying to create a bond, and—” 

Luna slapped a hand over Harry’s mouth. “Apologies, again, Mr. Scamander, Harry has been trying to memorize the entirety of your full anthology since he joined the wizarding world two years ago.”

Mr. Scamander leaned forward, head tilted as he watched the pair. “What did you mean by differences in mundane and magical snakes? Surely that speaks for itself, and many wizards don’t tend to interact with mundane snakes.”

The boy stepped back, both away from Luna’s hand and in thought. Luna was glad for this distance when he started speaking, hands gesturing wildly. “The few wizarding homes I’ve visited have had multiple mundane snakes in the surrounding gardens, sir. And in my experience, casting Serpensortia doesn’t guarantee a magical snake to be summoned, depending on the caster and their focus. It’s quite difficult to summon a magical snake that you aren’t familiar with, so many casters who simply rely on magic to summon a snake will get a mundane snake. Which brings me around to the lack of information on mundane snakes, which, when left to their own devices, can actually be more… dangerous… than magical ones...” He ended his tirade uncertainly, seeing the gleam in the magizoologist’s eyes. 

“Rubeus, you did promise me tea, didn’t you? Perhaps Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Potter here can join us.” Mr. Scamander picked up his briefcase and headed towards the door of the hut.

Hagrid looked at the sun setting and back to the other man. “Newt, it’s gettin’ a bit late, and the kids ain’t s’posed to be out after dark. Specially Harry here. I should prolly get these two back to the castle.”

Harry, who had been pulling Luna towards the hut, turned to Hagrid with a look he had down pat from sweet-talking things he needed from teachers in the muggle world. “What? Hagrid, please! We don’t even have classes in the morning, and you can walk us back to our dorms when we’re done.” His eyes were wide and pleading, Luna hiding a smirk before joining his begging.

Hagrid sighed, then snapped for Fang. “Fine, but only an hour. Severus’ll have my head if somethin’ happens to ya, Harry.”

His warning went unheard as the two students ran into the hut, quickly sitting around the table where Mr. Scamander had settled with a teapot. 

Before Hagrid could join them, Mr. Scamander leaned forward, whispering, “Are his rock cakes still quite inedible?” He gestured to a plate between them on the table. 

Harry quickly turned and placed the plate on the mantle over the fire, turning back with a wink. “Give them a tick to get warm and they’ll be perfect for dipping in the tea, Mr. Scamander.”

“Please, call me Newt. When people call me Mr. Scamander, it makes me think my wife is around the corner, furious with me over something.”

“I insist you call me Hadrian, then, sir.” Harry grinned. “After all, that will be what’s on the manuscript I submit to start my ultimate plan: to beat your record of magizoological discoveries.”

Newt laughed, a smile sitting crookedly on his face. “A pleasure then, Hadrian. Luna, dear, I hope you don’t feel left out, but I believe Hadrian and I are about to have a very interesting conversation that you and Hagrid may not be able to follow.”

Luna beamed as she leaned against Harry’s side. “I look forward to not knowing what’s going on. It’ll be quite the change, I imagine.” She took to pouring everyone a cup of tea, which, as it was Hagrid’s cups, were more like pints. Two of them had Harry and Luna’s names on them, their usual mugs when they stopped by the hut to visit on the way back from the forest. Hagrid took one and settled in his armchair in the corner, Fang at his feet as he pulled a Creature Collective magazine out from a pile of junk.

Newt turned his full attention to Harry. “How do you imagine a mundane snake can be more of a threat than a magical one?”

Harry hesitated for a moment before putting his elbows on the table, forsaking his manners to be as engaged as possible in the discussion. “In my experience, magical snakes actually have somewhat of a conscience. They are able, through their innate magic, to ascertain friend and foe, and to comprehend a bit more beyond simple survival. They do not necessarily have morals, but they are able to actually make… informed choices, if you will. Mundane snakes, on the other hand, tend not to think past anything other than survival of the fittest.”

Newt’s eyes glinted. “You’re familiar with Darwin’s theory?”

Harry shrugged. “I was raised in the muggle world, and it seemed ridiculous to not continue at least part of that education that would overlap with both my interests and my lessons here at Hogwarts.”

“I have to ask, Hadrian, you say in your experience. You’re, what, a fourth year at most? What experience could you have?”

Ignoring Luna’s snickering, Harry gave a sheepish grin. “Third year, sir. And my friends and I have done a lot of… experimenting with Serpensortia since the events of last year.”

“What happened last year?”

“You didn’t hear? I thought the Daily Prophet would have plastered the news of my ‘unique talent’ across the world.” Harry rolled his eyes as he sipped his tea.

“I tend not to read the news unless it is quite literally put under my nose, so no. I didn’t hear what this unique talent of yours is.”

Harry winced. “During a very short-lived dueling club, a fellow student shot a Serpsensortia at me rather than a simple disarming charm. It was angry at being summoned, especially for a more violent purpose, and was aiming to lash out at surrounding students rather than me. I had no choice but to reveal that I’m a Parselmouth.” Newt spilled a bit of his tea as he leaned forward abruptly. Harry continued. “After a brief conversation with the snake, I came to realize that I have an innate ability to do research that many can’t. So my friends and I learned the snake-summoning charm and… did some experiments.”

Newt’s eyes were wide as he met Harry’s gaze. “You’ve been able to speak Parseltongue your whole life?”

“I don’t really remember having many opportunities to speak to snakes when I was too much younger, but I spoke to a snake at a muggle zoo the summer before starting here. And having grown up in the muggle world, I don’t see where I would have learned the skill without realizing it.” He smirked at the man.

“What species did you speak with? Did you speak with multiple individuals from the same species? And you say you tried this with both muggle and magical snakes?” Newt pulled out a quill and some parchment.

Harry had to stop and take a breath at the idea that his idol was asking him questions about his own field of mastery. Then, he grinned as wide as his face would allow, ignoring Luna’s smirk as he opened his satchel that was in between their two chairs. “Would you like to see my research notes?”

Newt dropped his quill in excitement. “You took notes?”

Harry pulled out his research journal and flipped to the green sticky note that stuck out on the side. Pulling out his wand, he made a copy of the pages that contained those specific notes, flipping through a few times. He turned the pile around and slid it towards Newt, only pausing briefly. “You do understand that this will be the content of my first manuscript, yes?”

The man nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of impeding on the next generation of magizoologists…” He paused as he looked up at Harry, and then his eyes continued upwards towards Harry’s hair, which was its usual mess of dirt and curls and chaos. “Is there something in your hair?”

Luna laughed brightly as Harry sighed, running his hands gently through the mess until he pulled a green stick out of it. Neither of them noticed Newt freeze, eyes fixed on the creature now clinging to Harry’s hand.

“Sorry, this little guy is just Atticus, he gets lonely and I just can’t say no to him. You should have seen him at the end of last school year, he almost managed to catch a ride to the muggle world in my trunk so he wouldn’t have to stay here over the summer. Say, Hagrid, do you have any woodlice around?” Harry allowed the bowtruckle to climb between his hands a few times. At Hagrid’s gesture, he stood and pulled a jar from the shelves behind him, coming back to the table with a few little insects. Atticus headbutted his hand before chasing the lice down.

Harry barely caught the tail end of a look on Newt’s face, one of longing, fondness, and nostalgia. Used to causing emotions he didn’t understand on adults’ faces, Harry just kept going. “I’d be honored if you looked through the notes, sir. And this is just on the snake experiments, I’ve been keeping records of everything I can since I started going into the Forest first year.”

Hagrid coughed loudly from his corner.

“Uh, I mean, not that I would ever go in the Dark Forest without permission, I was totally acting under a professor’s orders, totally.” Harry rolled his eyes at Newt. 

“I’m a professor, now, Harry, ye can’t just say things while I’m here. Now, I think it’s high time we get you two back to yer dorms. Newt, mind helping me wrangle them up to the castle?”

Newt nodded, grabbing a rock cake from the plate on the mantle, which was quite toasty. 

“But Hagrid, I’ve asked one question, I have so many! And I haven’t even asked after Rolf!” Harry pouted once more, but didn’t fight as Luna pulled his arm towards the door, his satchel around her shoulders.

“Well, Rolf is doing very well, and yes, he’s asked me about transferring. But perhaps we can chat via owl, Hadrian, Luna. I am back in London for the foreseeable future, and would love to answer your questions. Maybe even come back for another visit, one that is a little earlier in the day so we have time to talk, and you can show me that thestral herd you mentioned.”

Harry’s eyes went from pleading to enthralled in the next beat of his heart. “Really?”

Newt, uncomfortable with the sudden emotion aimed his way, simply nodded as they walked up to the castle.

Luna beamed at him. “It would be great to discuss the textbook with you, sir. I would like to ask some questions of my own, like if you’ve ever met any Crumpled Horn Snorkacks.” 

Newt blinked rapidly, but experience with the senior Lovegood helped him think past his initial confusion. “Feel free to owl me as well, Luna, and I’ll be sure to have an answer next time we meet.”

At the door to the Great Hall, the quartet paused. “Newt, are you apparating or flooing home?” Hagrid asked, grabbing Fang by the collar to keep him from running into the depths of the school.

“Albus has granted me use of his fireplace, Hagrid, thank you. I’ll be sure to get a statement written and sent to you by the end of the week for the trial, do keep me updated.”

Hagrid looked at the two students. “Straight to yer dorms, you two. I don’t need Severus or Filius at my door for ya not making common room curfew.” He shook Newt’s hand and headed back down the hill.

Newt turned to Luna and Harry, the pile of papers under his arm. “Hadrian, I will owl you about your findings in the next few days. I may even have a few questions of my own.” He held out his hand, feeling off at how enthusiastically the Boy-Who-Lived gripped it. 

“It’s been an absolute honor, sir, and I look forward to the chance to continue our conversation.” Harry grinned, and the bowtruckle in his hair chirped a farewell as well.

Luna shook his hand much more softly, but her enthusiasm was visible in her eyes. “It’s been great to see you again, Newt.”

“You as well, Luna. Give my best to your father.”

The two students headed into the school, heads together as they whispered furiously. Harry stopped in his tracks, a hand flying to his forehead in a sharp smack. “Newt, next time you come, you’ll have to meet Bai! You’ll love her, but you’ll have to bring parchment, she has knowledge you don’t even know to ask about.”

Newt furrowed his brow. “Who is Bai?”

“She’s the basilisk Salazar Slytherin hid in the Chamber of Secrets before he left Hogwarts. Don’t worry, she can shield her eyes, so you don’t have to worry. I’ll translate for you, unless you have a spell that does it for you.”

“Bas-Did you just say basilisk?” Newt started walking towards the two again, but they had turned a corner. 

“I’ll introduce you next time, promise! Just don’t tell Albus, he doesn’t know she’s still alive! Nice to meet you!” Harry’s voice echoed back, level and clear, as if he didn’t just talk casually about a creature that was older than almost any other living being in existence. Newt clutched his chest, excitement flooding through him, almost as powerful as Grindelwald meeting his eyes and asking “Will we die, just a little?”

He found his breath and picked up the boy’s papers from where they’d fallen in his excitement. He grinned to himself as he headed up the stairs towards Albus’s office, a pep in his step, already planning another visit to his old alma mater.

“Newt? Are you alright?” Albus asked as he looked up from his desk, Fawkes chirping a greeting on the back of his chair.

“I just had the pleasure of meeting young Mr. Potter. You’d better watch that one, Albus, or else you might have another me in the record books.” Newt grabbed a lemon drop from the bowl on the desk.

“Ah, yes. I have learned from your expulsion, old friend." He shifted a few papers on his desk. "And Harry knows the limits of his control on the creatures he meets with. I trust him, and Hagrid has eyes all over the forest. Don’t get your hopes up, Newt, that boy will graduate from this school if it’s the last thing I do. You’ll have to wait to try to convince him to run off with you to some magical forest halfway across the world.” He looked at Newt over his spectacles. “And for the love of Merlin, Newt, do not show him your infernal case. I do not need the animals in the Forest to start going missing, the centaurs would be furious. Even if they have a soft spot for the boy.”

Newt popped the candy in his mouth. “We’ll see, Albus, we will see.” He pulled a handful of floo powder out of its container on the shelf near the fireplace. “I’ll be back quite soon, I imagine. Hadrian asked to show me a few things he’s found. I’m hoping the Forest has changed quite a bit since I was a student here. Rolf has been talking about transferring, as well, and I would have to come ensure he fits comfortably.”

Albus just laughed, waving him away. “You’re welcome anytime, old friend, as is young Rolf. Owl me his credentials and I’ll have him enrolled for next year. Give my regards to Tina, and tell Jacob and Queenie I expect a dinner invitation within the month.”

With a small salute, Newt Scamander and his briefcase full of creatures big and small disappeared in a flash of green fire.

Many floors down below, Harry had left a beaming Luna at the base of her tower stairs and had made his way to his own common room. Ron and Hermione surrounded him immediately, with their other friends grouped behind them, both in worry and in amusement. 

“Harry, mate, where were you? We expected you back over an hour ago.” Ron pushed and pulled at Harry’s shoulders, checking him for injuries that might need tending.

Harry pushed his arms away, unable to stop grinning even as he pulled away from the group. “I’m fine, Luna and I were at Hagrid’s hut talking to a new friend.”

Hermione crossed her arms as she eyed Harry, and a few of the other Slytherins let out groans behind her before dispersing, leaving the trio alone with only Marcus still hovering. “Hadrian James, that better not be some allusion to some new creature that you’re planning on sneaking into the dorms. That niffler is bad enough, some seventh years swear they saw it in their room and now some necklaces are missing.” Hermione stared at him, unimpressed.

Harry shook his head, though called out to the seventh-year prefect reading nearby. “I’ll get the necklaces back tomorrow, Erin, sorry about that, thought Dedun couldn’t get out.” At her dismissing wave of a hand, he turned back to Hermione. “No, Mione, we actually met Newt Scamander, and we were discussing my research on the difference between mundane and magical snakes. He’s promised to look over my notes and send me some questions and comments within the next few days, so I can really start working it into a manuscript.”

Even though he said it with as casual a tone he could, Harry couldn’t help the fact that he was still vibrating in his skin at having met and talked to one of his heroes as if they were equals. And as Hermione was blinking at the words research and manuscript, and Ron just was trying to brush the infinite dirt off of Harry’s clothes, it was Marcus that raised the question.

“You were talking to Newt Scamander? The guy who helped Dumbledore defeat Grindelwald?”

Harry shrugged, pushing Ron away yet again. “I guess? More importantly, he’s the best magizoologist in the world, and he is interested in my research.”

“Hadrian, he helped save the world.” Marcus leaned down to look into Harry’s unimpressed eyes.

“Whoop-de-doo. So did I. So I guess we’re even on that front.” He shoved between his friends, pulling Atticus out of his hair as he headed down the stairs.

“Harry, you can’t just keep using that as an excuse!” Hermione’s voice called after him.

He just scoffed as he ducked into the year three boy’s lounge, placing Atticus on his tree stand. “Why not?” he asked the bowtruckle, who blew a raspberry at him in response. “Everyone else does.”

 

After the fifth time someone asked about Newt Scamander the next morning, Harry frowned at the large glass wall across one end of the room. “Is that the squid?”

Everyone turned to look, even the upper years who swore they were used to seeing the creature. 

As soon as heads were turned, Harry was through the bricks, practically running for the closest passage towards Gryffindor Tower.

No one would be cruel enough to ask him about a book author there.

Except perhaps Percy, but he’d surely be at the library.

By the time he had settled in an armchair across from Neville, he was out of breath.

“Merlin, how do you lot do that multiple times a day?” he wheezed. “Nice bonsai.”

Neville didn’t look up from where he was trimming the growing plant. “There’s usually a reason we don’t come back to the rooms until we’re done for the night.” He spared Harry a glance. “And thanks. Theo gave me the seedling for my birthday.”

At Harry’s raised eyebrows, Neville blushed and looked back down. “Anything Gryffindor can do for our favorite snake this fine Saturday?”

“Aw, guys, am I your favorite snake?” Harry turned in his chair, raising his voice to the rest of the room.

Only half the room looked back at him.

Only two of those didn’t roll their eyes. 

Those two both sported red hair, shock of freckles, and an embarrassed flush.

Harry’s grin faded as he made eye contact with Fred across the room.

He looked back to Neville. “How have the twins been?”

“Since you scolded them like you were Molly on a rampage? Very… modest. Mild.”

Harry hummed. 

“You know you don’t have to be everyone’s savior, right?” Neville looked up again.

“Really?” Harry scoffed. “Does The-Boy-Who-Lived ring a bell?”

“I don’t know, do you?” 

Harry glared.

Neville gave him a shit-eating grin.

“You were a lot more palatable before you got possessed, you know.”

“Yeah, and I hated myself. Funny the random perks that come from an imaginary friend.”

Harry burst into laughter. “And a decent mindhealer, I’d say.”

“Wanna do a joint session?” Neville grinned wider.

A muttered spell materialized a spray bottle in Harry’s hand, and Neville ducked behind the coffee table at the water suddenly spritzing in his face.

“Having fun?” 

They looked up to see Fred, red-faced, smiling awkwardly.

George was behind him, hand on his twin’s shoulder clearly there to keep him in place.

“We are,” Harry responded, loudly over Neville’s disagreement. “I hear your fun has been a little cleaner these past few days.”

Fred’s face turned a little more red, but at George’s obvious poke, he nodded. “Gred and I have talked. I… understand what you were talking about, about going too far.”

Another poke.

Fred sighed. “I will be more considerate about the outcomes of my actions, no matter who those actions may be applied upon.”

Harry and Neville swapped a glance, before bursting into laughter.

The twin’s face went even more red.

“Did Hermione give you a thesaurus, mate?” Harry cackled before standing, expression falling. “I don’t need an apology, Fred. I need you to do better. You’re still my brothers, no matter what. I just…” He sighed. “I hold you two to a higher standard, and that’s not fair on my end. You caught me on a bad day, a bad week, really. I learned some things about my father and his friends, and it struck a nerve from the Dursleys.”

George’s face crumpled. 

Fred sighed. “We get it. And George has brought up a few things that we’ve done that could have gone way worse.”

“And we’ll do better, Harrykins.” George gave the same awkward smile Fred started out with. “We’ve decided we’d rather work harder to make funnier pranks than go for the easy gag.”

Neville finally sat up, eyes flickering between the three of them. “You could always adjust the meaner pranks for something else.”

The twins both snapped their gazes towards him, and Neville curled into himself slightly.

“Like, aurors. Or something. From what Harry said, the prank was a good setup. W-well thought out and could do some serious damage. Aurors could… could use that as a trap when catching criminals.” He slid back down behind the coffee table. “Oh, there are my concave cutters.”

“If the Order ever comes back…” Fred started, gazing into the distance before twisting to look at George.

The twins stared at each other for a moment, before George started muttering under his breath, runes and numbers hissed towards his brother, who pulled a notebook out and started scribbling.

Harry tapped his foot for a few moments. “Great, can you do this somewhere else?”

When the twins looked back at him, he made a shoo gesture.

George rolled his eyes and patted Harry’s head. “Later, Harrykins, Neville.”

“Thanks, Harry. We will do better.” Fred’s grin finally turned real as he shot them a wink, following George out of the common room. 

“Order?” Harry asked, twisting in his chair to look at Neville through the coffee table legs.

“Yeah.” Neville sat up, blush fading. “You hadn’t heard about the Order yet?”

“No. What is it?”

He scooted forward, voice lowering. “When Riddle was at the height of his power, Dumbledore got a group together, people willing to fight. Our parents, of course. The Weasleys. Susan’s parents. Mad-Eye Moody. Quite a few more, from what I remember. People who didn’t trust the aurors to do their jobs, or the Ministry to keep their families safe. Gran said it wasn't the biggest group, but Dad apparently acted like they were going to save the world.”

“So it wouldn’t be surprising, if Riddle comes back, that the Order would, too.”

Neville shrugged. “With a new generation to fill its ranks.”

“Children inheriting a war.” Harry shook his head. “Both sides forcing another generation into already drawn battle lines.”

“Are you done being an adult?” A sugary voice accompanied a soft tap on Harry’s shoulder.

He looked back at Lavender Brown’s eager expression with one of dread. “Whatever it is, no.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!” 

“The fact that you’re asking is enough for me.”

“I just want to fix your hair.”

Neville and Harry both started laughing. 

“In that case, abso-lutely not.”

“Hadrian, please?” 

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not going to work, Lavender.”

“But I’ll have so much fun trying.” She gave an exaggerated pout.

They made eye contact for… slightly too long, and Harry groaned. “If you really want to waste time and product, fine. But you’re not allowed to get mad when it goes crazy again.”

She squealed and leapt up, rushing towards the stairs to the girls’ dorms.

Neville sighed. “Girls and their obsession with hair care.”

“It’s not even hair care! It’s sticking gel.” Harry shook his head. “I’d make even more of a fortune if I managed something that actually worked on Potters.”

An awkward cough behind them made them both look, again, Harry looking nearly upside down over the back of the couch. 

“Lee?” Harry straightened, looking back at Neville. “I came to the Tower for some peace.”

“Stop being popular, then.” Neville shrugged. “Hi Lee.”

“Hiya, Neville, Hadrian.” The twins’ best friend gave a slight wave. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to study for my Care OWL and I figured you were the best bet to answer some questions.” 

“Oh, sure. Hope you don’t mind doing it while Lav here tortures my hair.”

Lavender gave Lee a considering grin as she sat on the back of Harry’s armchair with an armful of products. “Don’t mind me, Jordan.”

Two hours later, Lee had three feet of notes from a rant that was sure to get him extra credit on his exam, and a much smaller list of things to look up to help in Buckbeak’s trial. He was also told that if he needed help and couldn’t find Harry, find Greg. 

The halfblood didn’t seem at all bothered at the idea of finding Goyle. 

Harry chalked that one up in the win category.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize he’d love Care, he adores that tarantula of his.” Harry sighed, leaning back as Lavender hissed, throwing another bottle of Sleakeazy’s across the room, narrowly avoiding Ruth Winkius and her Gobstones.

Neville snorted. “Not to mention, one of his moms works for the Magical Creature Department. She’s actually the boss to both Flick and Cormac’s dads.” 

“Alright, Potter-Black, get away from me.” Lavender stood, nearly pushing Harry onto the floor in frustration. “Three bottles and six spells and that’s the best it’s going to get.”

Harry watched her leave with a frown. “Thanks?”

She flipped him off over her shoulder.

“Well, I guess that’s my sign.” He dusted off his outfit before patting his godbrother on the head. “Later, Nev. I’ll catch you at dinner.”

“Need company on the walk down?”

“Nah. I’ll use some back passageways.” Harry left the tower, bowing to the portrait guarding the door. “Good afternoon, Lady Dawn.”

“Safe travels and pleasant adventures, young Hadrian,” she responded as he disappeared behind a tapestry. 

It was quick work, getting back to his own dorms. Two and a half years of the castle, a few months of said castle recognizing him as an heir, and it wasn’t more than a minute before he was stalking into the dungeons, nodding at the two sixth year prefects patrolling.

With some professors leaving the grounds for the weekends, prefects tended to pick up the extra slack.

The Slytherin sixth years tended to pick the short straw more often than not.

They both just rolled their eyes as he passed them.

He ducked through the bricks to the common room, hair already halfway free of the gel Lavender had spelled to be permanent. He had barely made it halfway across when a shriek let out.

“Hadrian James Potter-Black, you did not let some lion give you a makeover before you let me!” 

He just froze before giving Tracey a guilty grin. 

“It’s not like it worked.” 

“That’s not the point!”

 

The March Hogsmeade weekend gave the student body hope that spring was close at hand.

Dean Thomas had pulled out a muggle football, and started teaching whoever was unfortunate enough to be close enough to get grabbed.

Most of the younger years who weren’t old enough to go to the village were either learning or watching.

The morning of the visit, Harry quietly left Hermione and Ron dozing in front of the Nook’s fire, both with books open on their chest about Runes.

After a few weeks of awkward, apologetic fumbling, the two had finally reached a peaceful understanding.

Harry, for the most part, was just glad they could spend time together without things turning spiteful.

That morning, however, he was meeting Sirius again, the man on his last week in St. Mungo’s before being properly released.

Properly free.

Harry pulled out his Firebolt, skating just overhead as the crowd of Hogwarts students started towards the village.

He just grinned at the few who called cheater at him as he floated past.

He landed at the bridge, tucking his broom back in his bag before starting to jog through the cobblestone streets. A few moments later, he launched himself into Sirius’s arms outside The Three Broomsticks.

“Hey, kiddo!” Sirius picked him up in a hug and spun him around. “How’s school?”

“I wrote you this week about school, Sirius.” He pulled back slightly, grinning up at his godfather. “How are you?”

“Ready to get out.” Sirius shuddered. “I may hate my mother’s old house, but it’s got to be ten times better than the monotony of the hospital.”

“You’re moving back into your mother’s house?”

“To start.” Sirius pulled him into the pub, waving at Rosmerta as they navigated to the back corner. “I know it’s been used in the somewhat recent past, and I know how to get in. The ancestral home, where Grandfather Arcturus lived, is most likely warded since his death, and I’m not sure where I stand in the family magicks with that.”

“So you need to go to Gringotts?”

“A trip there, and one to the Wizengamot chambers.”

Harry frowned, waiting until Rosmerta took their breakfast order before asking. “Does the Wizengamot have a method of bloodline determination?”

“Mmm.” Sirius swallowed his tea. “The chamber in the Ministry has been active since the time of Merlin. The main rune scheme is built throughout the entire room, and it can automatically update certain standings. If a House is reestablished, as soon as a viable member enters the chamber, it will react.”

“Whoa…” Harry dug into his bag, pulling out a notepad. “What constitutes as viable?”

Sirius started to laugh as a waitress started placing plates. “Eat, Harry. I’ll send you a list of books I was forced to read as a Heir. We’ll get you caught up.”

Harry shot him a grin. “Sorry.”

“Better you than me.” Sirius pushed the plate of eggs towards him. “I’ll be glad to have some help when I have to take over.”

“Aunt Andi is doing a decent job.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Sirius snickered. “She was always the perfect Black daughter, nearly as prim and proper as Narcissa. Had she not met Ted, Arcturus probably would have let her take over the House politics ages ago.”

“Not Aunt Cissa?”

Sirius couldn’t quite hide the loaded look he sent Harry’s way. “I guess I should have realized you would have gotten close to her, too. You’re friends with her son, right? Draco?”

“Yeah.” Harry shrugged, pulling into himself. “I thought it would be smart, getting to know more Blacks.”

“Hey,” Sirius leaned forward, hand reaching out. “It’s fine. I told you, I’m not going to lose you to some stupid school rivalry.”

“It’s your family rivalry, not just Gryffindor versus Slytherin.” His voice dropped even further.

“Our family. Just because I didn’t always see eye to eye with Cissa doesn’t mean you don’t have every right to get to know her.”

Harry unclenched his fist, ignoring how his fingers shook. “Okay.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched but he took a deep breath before giving Harry a slight smile. “I’ll tell you however many times you need. I trust you.”

Harry tried to smile back, picking up his fork again. 

After breakfast, the two started their usual prowl around the village, heading towards a grassy area overlooking the valley.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Harry. I seem to have a bad habit of bringing up bad memories for you.” 

“You’re not.” Harry wrapped his right hand around his left forearm. “I… I’m just… Still learning how to act. Or… how to just be, and not act at all.”

Sirius nodded. “We both still have some work to do, huh?”

Harry’s answering smile was a little stronger. “If anything, I bring up bad memories for you. It must be weird, readjusting to a world that’s kept going without you.”

“Nah.” Sirius grinned a little too wide. “Keeps me on my toes. Keeps things interesting.”

Harry snorted. “I’d be fine with things being boring, honestly.”

“Harry, I’ve only known you properly for a few months, and I call utter shite.”

They both burst into laughter as they reached the bench.

Harry sighed, moving to sit on the stone wall near it instead of the bench.

He didn’t want to ask.

But he needed to know.

Especially if he had any hope of spending a summer with his godfather.

“Sirius… If Dumbledore asked, would you join the Order again?” 

The man looked up sharply, halfway through sitting down.

“How do you even know about the Order?” 

“Neville’s gran, the Weasleys… a few places.” 

Sirius straightened and sighed, running his hands through his hair. “What are you really asking me, pronglset?” 

Eying his godfather warily, Harry dug his nails into the palms of his hands. “I don’t know if I trust Dumbledore. Not… Not really.” 

Sirius moved to stand in front of him, resting his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Hadrian James Potter-Black,” he matched Harry’s small smile at the full name from his Lord and (hopefully) guardian. “I will never choose someone else over you. I made that mistake once. I let Hagrid take you away, take you somewhere not with me. Never again. I would let the war tear our country apart if it meant you lived to see the other side of it. Dumbledore can choke on his own beard.” 

Harry let out a sudden cackle.

Before either side could continue their conversation, a dual shout down the road made them both jump.

Harry sighed as two redheads raced to meet them. “Well, any chance of sanity just fled.”

Fred nearly took Sirius’s hand off, shaking it so fervently.

George just looked on in awe.

Sirius grinned. “So you two are the duo trying to take my top-prankster title away from me.” He stepped back, arms open wide. “Let’s see what you got.”

The rest of the Hogsmeade visit, for Harry, was spent trying to talk the twins and Sirius out of… all of their ideas.

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
not my og characters, but again this week, most of the plot is mine
even if i don't respond, i read every single comment, and love even just the ones with emojis <3
kudos, comments, shares, tumblr asks, etc all loved and appreciated
enjoy :)

Chapter 17: April Showers, Ostara Scours

Summary:

Spring break sees Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys back at the Burrow. After an enjoyable week off, the Heralds suddenly get a new enemy (not just a bully) to focus on, one that's a little too close to home.

Notes:

just in time for easter, here's the chapter for eostre!
completely accidental, just how the cookie crumbled.
sorry for the day-late post, i may have gotten a little tipsy last night and then got SUPER emotional about 9-1-1.
anyways.
enjoy! :)

The train was comforting as it chugged along the track back towards London.

Harry was about to fall asleep, the lullaby of friends chattering in low tones and the vibrations underneath them, the rain pattering on the window he was leaning against.

Until, of course, a Weasley broke the calm.

“I cannot believe we got extra Runes homework over the holidays. Again. And how’d I get roped into this? I didn’t even help on the rune scheme this time!”

Everyone in the car shot Ron an incredulous look. 

“You had no part in working on the scheme for the message books? Not that they’re finished, but Babbling had some ideas-” 

“You were the one who had the idea for the rune to break into the Hospital Wing last year.”

“Not to mention you were ready to take apart the Mirror of Erised at age eleven.”

“Don’t forget how often he begs Levi Avery to give him the scheme for the Slytherin quidditch stands.”

“So take the book, and we’ll set up a study session at Fortescue’s sometime this week.”

“Oh, is Jacob still working there?” Hannah perked up, cheeks pinking slightly.

Harry closed his book. “Uh, I dunno. Where’s Colin sitting?”

“The first compartment in this car. Dennis stayed behind for break.” Hermione didn’t even look up from her book.

Anthony frowned at Harry. “Why? Does Colin somehow know Jacob’s schedule?”

“No. It’s because for some reason I don’t want to know, Jaws likes him, and she’ll know if her brother is working or not.” Harry got up and ducked through the door.

“Why doesn’t he want to know?”

“They’re both like little siblings to him. He gets icky about his own feelings, let alone his family crushing on each other.” 

No one mentioned the slight sour tone Ron had gotten on the phrase his own feelings.

 

Arthur was grinning at the station as the various Weasley family members started to flock towards him. “Come on, kids! Molly’s got a homemade feast waiting for us!”

Harry stopped Theo with a hand on his arm. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“He won’t do anything I can’t handle for a week, Hadrian.” Theo gave him a smile. “If I need help before break is over, I’ll owl you, or Neville. I promise.”

Harry’s hand fell, and Theo nodded towards him and headed towards the floo access.

Hermione grabbed his hand as it fell to his side. “He’s been living with it his entire life. He can handle a few days. And if something happens, then we’ll handle his father.” She pulled him back towards Arthur. “Let’s go. I had my parents owl me a bunch of Easter eggs. Do you think we can get one of the twins in the pond searching for them?”

The Weasleys all piled into the Ford Anglia, the interior somehow fitting all eight of them. Their luggage was shrunk and placed in the boot, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry pushing into the front next to Arthur, the Weasley boys shoving into the back.

The rain didn’t let up until they pulled into the shed behind the Burrow, and they all flooded out of the car and into the kitchen, where Molly began making her way through hugging them all.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you all!” She bussed Harry’s cheek. “I’m so happy you all decided to come for the holiday, I know you like staying at school.”

Harry looked up at her with a blush. “We missed home.”

Her eyes immediately started to water and she pulled him into another hug. “Oh, Harry, you’re welcome home any time.”

 

The Saturday before Easter, Arthur dropped Harry off at the Leaky Cauldron on his way into work. 

“Just be home in time for dinner, okay?” Arthur ruffled Harry’s hair. “Both of you.”

“Yes, Arthur.” Harry grinned. “Hermione will gut me if I don’t, we have a surprise for everyone.”

Arthur disappeared through the floo just as the back door to the Alley opened, and a mop of curly dark hair over a still too-gaunt face peeked through.

“There you are!”

Sirius shoved open the door the rest of the way, just in time for Harry to launch into his arms. 

“Come on, I haven’t been on the Alley in over a decade. Show me around.” Sirius winked when Harry finally pulled back, and they started into Diagon.

“How’d you get Albus to let me come to the Alley with you?” 

“Albus is not the boss of either of us outside of Hogwarts.” Sirius put his nose in the air, like the pureblood ponce he was raised to be.

Harry just raised a brow.

He deflated. “To start, I didn’t tell him. I… I’ve finally been talking to Remus, and he accidentally let it slip, and Albus visited me at home. He wasn’t happy.”

“He never is,” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes.

Sirius turned to Harry, stopping them in the middle of the road. “I told him I would take a page from your book and sue the living daylights out of him if he didn’t. Line theft, keeping an heir from their lord, whatever it took.” He patted Harry’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “My parents may have failed me when I was a kid, I’ll be damned if I stand by to let you fall to the side, too. I don’t give a f-” he coughed. 

Harry bit back a laugh.

“Fig,” Sirius amended. “I don’t give a fig what is expected of you as Boy-Who-Lived or whatever the crock of shit is. You’re my godson, and that is more important than anything else.”

The grin on Harry’s face made his godfather turn red. 

“Shut up.” Sirius pushed him slightly. “Now, c’mon, I think we both need an updated wardrobe.”

Harry groaned. “Shopping?”

 

The sword felt like lead in his extendable bag as he walked as casually as possible through the doors of the bank. 

Sirius had simply shrugged when Harry asked if he could go to Gringotts alone, and ruffled his hair. “I’m off to catch up with Andi over tea. Meet me at Twilfit and Tattings when you’re done, we’ll get what we couldn’t find at Madam Malkin’s.” 

His laughter at Harry’s groan followed the boy down the cobbled street he’d come to love so much over the few summers he’d spent there. It was his familiarity with Diagon that pressed him forward, knowing the names of most of the goblins in the lobby of Gringotts, and not even needing to wait before Hardfoot told him that Griphook had been alerted to his presence and was on his way to meet him.

The manager of his vaults gave him a toothy sneer, thumping his chest with a fist. “Heir Potter-Black, may you come to us in the glory of battle.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at the irony. “And may you use my victory to prosper us both, Manager. May we talk in your office? I have an… unusual object that requires immediate inspection.”

The goblin narrowed his eyes in glee. “But of course, Hadrian. I’ll have our usual refreshments served posthaste. Shall I owl Counselor Flint to join us?” 

Harry shook his head violently as they headed towards the back hallways of the bank. “Definitely not. He is… aware of my intentions today, and while he understands my decision, is pretty set against it.”

Griphook laughed as the door closed behind him. “This must be a truly unusual object, then, Hadrian. You have my undivided attention.”

“May I cast a few charms so we are not overheard? I do not wish to wrongly offend with brandishing my wand in front of you, whom I consider a friend, but I cannot allow this to be overheard, and after the last few years, I am a mite bit paranoid.”

He received only a short nod in response, the goblin obviously intrigued at Harry’s unusual formality.

One that came from hours of Justin and Millie drilling goblin-friendly etiquette into his head.

Harry pulled out his wand and cast a few privacy charms he had learned from Sirius and Professor Snape, and without even looking twice at his wand left it out of its holster. “Gerard was mainly concerned that the story of my finding of this object would cause… reputational harm to the Goblin Nation, and may incite a more militaristic approach to their relationship with Wizarding Britain.”

All mirth left the goblin’s face as he leaned forward, nearly climbing over the desk laden with tea and Goblin ale. “What object could possibly cause such concern to the esteemed Counselor?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Perhaps object is the wrong term.” He opened his bag, ignoring the shaking of his hand as it wrapped around the hilt. “Relic may be more fitting.” He pulled the sword out, placing it firmly on the desk before subtly palming his wand once more.

The look on his manager’s face was truly terrifying. Griphook’s eyes had grown wider than he’d ever seen, and his smile was near feral. The goblin sniffed the air, and his forked tongue quickly wet his lips as an outreached hand called the sword to it.

“Heir Potter-Black, do you realize what you have just done?”

Harry took another deep breath, and stood, pulling a ring on his hand into existence. “What I have done, Manager Griphook, is rectify a wrong done to your people. As the current Heir of Slytherin due to conquest,” he flashed the ring that had called to him within the Chamber, “which, as of the original charter of Hogwarts, makes me owner of at least a fraction of the school that had apparently held this relic for Merlin knows how long, I wish to offer this back to the Goblin Nation with no wish of recompense. While fighting a basilisk in the bowels of the school, along with a shade of none other than Voldemort, previous Slytherin Heir, this sword made itself known to me. I have fully vanquished that shade, and taken this title through the magicks that resulted from that battle. As Heir Slytherin, I am honor-bound to return this to you for you to do with as you will, at whatever cost to our relationship that your king sees fair.” He ended his much-rehearsed speech with a bow, complete with a fist over his heart, the common Goblin sign of respect. 

He stayed bent at the waist, eyes at a point where he wasn’t looking at the too-still goblin, but could see any movement out of his periphery. 

A full minute after the silence descended into the room, the goblin moved. 

Sword still in hand, Griphook began to laugh.

 

An hour later, Harry stumbled out of Gringotts, blinking against the setting sun, Jaggedtooth clearly laughing at him from his guard position. Sirius walked up to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright, prongslet? You took so long I was about to head in after you.”

Harry closed his mouth from where it was still agape, and summoned any moisture he could. “Sirius…” He blinked a few times again before turning to his godfather.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” The man began feeling his forehead, scanning his body for any injury.

“What does it mean to be a Goblin Friend?” Harry’s voice was barely a whisper, but Sirius still froze in the middle of the Alley.

“Gob-“ The usually suave Sirius had to blink a few times as well. He crouched down, so he was more on Harry’s level. “Harry, I need you to be very sure of what you’re about to say. Did you just say you were made Goblin Friend?”

Harry, staring into nothingness, just nodded. “King Gott made that very clear, but was pretty vague on what it all meant. On the bright side, he also said I’m welcome to observe a goblin dueling competition.” He sighed, blinking furiously again until he moved to make eye contact with Sirius. “I need to talk to Gerard.” He pulled away and headed down the street, casting a tempus to check if he needed to duck through to the Flint’s home instead of Gerard’s office.

“No ma—oh, Merlin, I was about to say no magic in public. I’ve turned into a responsible adult.” Sirius sighed and rose, following his wayward ward towards the residential district off of the Alley.

A few moments later, he began jogging to catch up with Harry. “Wait, did you say King?”

 

Sirius still couldn’t believe what had occurred by the time Harry had dragged him into the Burrow and plopped him down between the eager twins. 

Luckily, between letters they shared and the few conversations in person they had, Sirius knew better than to mention it in front of the Weasley parents, instead waiting until Molly was cleaning up and Hermione was explaining muggle Easter to Arthur.

“You stole the sword of Godric Gryffindor from Dumbledore?” 

“To be fair, it was already stolen. I was actually returning it. I made a calculated choice, that risking pissing off Albus was better than risking a war with the goblins. Especially since my interest portfolio is finally starting to take off. And that I don’t really care about pissing Albus off.”

“That’s… terrifying to consider.”

“So are the goblins. I think they appreciate having clients on the same level of insanity as them.” Harry pulled at his godfather’s arm. “Now, come on. Gerard is working on that, and we have eggs to hide.”

Sirius frowned. “Did you say eggs to hide?”

“So, a god sent his demigod son to the muggles to spread knowledge about his power and then the kid died, and now muggles hide eggs and say it’s from a rabbit?” Arthur was scribbling in a notebook.

Harry stopped next to him. “I really don’t know why we hide eggs delivered by the Easter Bunny, Arthur, but it’s tradition.” 

“Well, actually, it’s a fertility-”

He placed a hand over her mouth. “Hermione, just hide them. We can go over the origin story of Easter and Ostara later, but I’d like to have the hunt before the sun sets please, or before it starts to rain again.”

She sighed as she pushed him away. “Fine.”

Sirius blinked, trying to catch up to the conversation, but ultimately shrugged it off as he peered into the box in Hermione’s arms. “So we’re just hiding plastic eggs full of sweets around the garden?”

Harry nodded. “Sometimes they also have money or other stuff in them.”

“Well, get inside, you two.” Arthur tucked his spiral notepad in his pocket. “You’re not helping us hide these. Let the adults handle this.” He took Hermione’s box.

Sirius grinned and pushed them towards the door. 

An hour later, Arthur opened the door, and the kids filed out. 

Harry and Hermione were content to let the others go crazy searching, instead just sitting along the edge of the back porch with a pile of candy between them from the few eggs they found, Percy in a rocking chair behind them with his own handful of eggs.

George ended up in a tree.

Ron nearly got stuck under the henhouse.

Fred, much to Hermione’s glee, came up from the pond shivering but holding a giant golden egg with an impervious charm.

 

The last few days of break were, for the most part, a lot of studying in the family room of the Burrow.

Fred and George hid from most of that, instead retreating to their room, the only evidence of their presence outside of meals being an occasional explosion.

The first night back, the Heralds all piled into the Nook, Harry pulling out a giant bag filled with muggle sweets he had bought at a Tesco near the station in London.

The wixen-raised were trying various candies, not even looking when the door to the room opened again.

“Hadrian, remember last year when I said I’d let you know when you needed to be worried?”

All eyes in the room turned to see Theo, shaking, bruise under his eye. 

“You might need to be worried.” 

Unfortunately, everyone in the room knew that Harry’s first reaction was not going to be worry. 

It was going to be anger.

Harry’s fingers curled, fist tight as nails dug into his skin. “I’ll take care of it.” He stood, Ron and Hermione sharing a worried glance before following.

In another room, away from the trio, a few Heralds gather around. 

Hannah chewed her lip. “I know Hadrian’s terrifying to any students aside from us. But he’s so scared of adults. Why are we worried what he’s going to do to Theo’s dad?” 

Susan sighed, leaning against Anthony, who was writing a letter to her aunt on her behalf. “It’s… I read some of Hermione’s books on childhood trauma. He… He’s only triggered when it’s an adult who can actually influence things. For him. Specifically one’s he can’t influence in return.”

Anthony looked up. “I know he’s the boy-who-lived, but does he really have that much power?”

She nodded. “Fudge, Dumbledore? He knows what buttons to push. Even Lord Malfoy, to an extent. They expect something from him, something out of him, and if they play along, so will he. But his muggles? Snape, Gerard, when they get angry, go beyond the reactions he’s used to? He doesn’t know how to act, because when he was growing up, there was nothing to do to make it better. Snape is the first actual mentor that he looks up to, even if they got off to a rocky start.” 

“And are going through a rocky middle,” Hannah added, now worrying at a thumbnail. 

Susan rolled her eyes. “Gerard controls his finances, controls his place in our world, and, even when we know he wouldn’t, has the potential to send him back. Lord Nott? The only influence he has over Hadrian is the power he has over Theo. And Hadrian would break every single ward around Nott Manor if he had to in order to keep Theo safe. Why would he care what Lord Nott thinks?”

Padma shifted from the corner where she had been watching, listening, quietly. “Maybe we should.”

The others looked toward her, confused.

“I’m not trying to equate us to Riddle’s movement. But for simplicity’s sake, let’s go with the comparison. We’re Harry’s inner circle, yes? Or Hermione’s, whatever. There’s no real difference, in the end. We , the Heralds, are the inner circle. It’s up to us to pick up any slack. To catch what they might miss.”

Anthony leaned forward. “Harry may not be concerned with Lord Nott’s response, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare for it anyways.”

She nodded. “You might want to add another paragraph to the letter to your aunt, Susan.”

“And we might want to reach out to Marcus’s dad,” Justin sighed. “See if there’s any legal cover for any actions taken.”

Hannah pulled her hand from her mouth. “Should we write to Lord Black? As Harry’s Lord, he has some power, to either aid or impede his Heir’s actions in regards to relations to another House.”

“Sometimes I forget you lot are all Sacred 28.” Anthony frowned as he leaned back. “Maybe traditions are the way to handle this.”

 

The Gryffindor table was abuzz with excitement about the upcoming match, not even blinking at the green robes in their midst even though that was their opponent that day.

Harry looked around them with a grin. “I love progress.”

Hermione rolled her eyes next to him as she read from a book levitating in front of her. “I don’t know if progress via irritation should be counted as a victory, but I suppose… Katie, pass me a knife, would you?”

The Gryffindor chaser narrowed her eyes as she did so. “How is Marcus letting you sit here?”

“Oliver told him he’d withhold sex for the rest of the year if he made a big deal about it,” Harry answered, reaching over Grant Vance, the second year seeker who took the spot from McLaggen at tryouts that year.

The second year scowled. “Gross.”

Ron sighed as he spooned more soup into his bowl. “Apparently it was some joke about if he was so against interhouse relations then obviously their relationship is included.”

Alicia giggled. “I think it’s cute. It’s like… star-crossed lovers.”

Everyone else at the table groaned. 

Harry threw a piece of bread at her. “There’s no cross. There’s no drama. The only conflict in their relationship is what they inject into it.”

“Gotta keep it spicy,” Angelina added, winking at a suddenly red-faced George.

“Potter!” 

The table groaned again as Cormac McLaggen sauntered behind them, bracketed by Carl Hopkins and Jack Sloper, two of his non-twin roommates. 

“I see you’ve realized the winners of today’s match,” he drawled, posturing like a first-year Slytherin who hadn’t learned the idea of subtlety yet.

“Well, Cormac, they’ll have a much better chance now that you’re no longer gearing up.” Harry gave him a bland smile.

McLaggen placed a hand on Vance’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “Just thought the younger kids should have a chance.”

Grant rolled his eyes and shoved the hand off. “And that’s why I caught the snitch before you even got off the ground at tryouts?” 

Before Cormac could respond, Harry turned on the bench, leaning back against the table. “Any particular reason you’re putting us all off our food, McLaggen?”

The older boy sneered. “No Nott sniffing around? Surprised his dad didn’t just keep him home. Nasty bruise, that. No more than a Death Eater brat deserves, of course.”

Harry didn’t even move, eyes turning hard.

Hermione, however, looked up from the book that suddenly slammed on the table, her fists clenching.

Ron took a deep breath before reaching across Hermione’s arms to gently remove the knife from her white knuckled grip.

As soon as the knife was removed, she was standing in front of Cormac, hair crackling as she looked up at the bully.

“What did you call him?” 

“What, Granger, did the muggleborn fall for the Heir Death Eater? Be careful, he’ll just use you for some dark ritual sacrifice like the scum-”

The entire Great Hall fell into silence as the sound of a fist against a jaw echoed throughout the room.

The next sound was McLaggen hitting the floor.

The next, gasps.

And then clapping.

Cheering.

A barely-heard shout from the staff table as McGonagall called for detention.

Hermione’s still-white knuckled fist now dripped blood.

 

It was only the fact that Gryffindor was playing that allowed Hermione out of the castle, rather than an all afternoon detention for physical violence against another student.

McLaggen, unfortunately, would miss the match, in the Hospital Wing for a fractured cheekbone and a possible concussion from hitting the floor.

McGonagall was sat next to Lee Jordan, as usual, but she had instructed Snape to lurk in the Slytherin stands to keep watch over the house during the match.

Snape rolled his eyes but agreed, settling in the top corner of the stands. On his way up the stairs, he paused at where Hermione was forcibly placed in the middle of the third year Slytherins. He pinched his nose, sighed deeply, and reached a fist over Greg Goyle.

Hermione took a second to flick her eyes between his contorted face and extended fist, before smiling and tapping it with her own.

The group managed to have the decency of waiting for the professor to sit before bursting into laughter.

 

For the onlookers, the following game was riveting.

Gryffindor and Slytherin went nearly goal for goal for two hours, and somehow the crowd still had the energy to cheer for every move.

Harry, however, was bored out of his mind. 

Neither he nor Vance had seen any sign of the snitch.

The only interest was watching Marcus flirt with his boyfriend after every goal, blowing him kisses and grinning as Oliver grew more and more red, whether out of anger or embarrassment, he didn’t know.

Harry ended up over the Slytherin stands, stealing handfuls of popcorn from Rowan, who was sandwiched between Ginny and, surprisingly, Daphne Greengrass. 

The sun had just began to set when Vance started to circle higher in the air, quicker than he had been flying for the previous hour.

Harry grabbed another handful of popcorn.

Daphne glared at him. “Don’t you have something to do, Potter?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Lady Greengrass.” He tossed the rest of his handful into her hair, and before she could pull her wand, he shot down the stands, just over the heads of his housemates, streaking towards the ground just as Vance began to dive.

He urged the broom beneath him faster, the Firebolt going so quickly he was struggling to catch his breath. He was horizontal over the pitch, just a handful of feet above the grass.

The snitch stopped its descent and darted to the right, Harry veering after it.

Grant, coming down from a near vertical dive, yelled and pulled his broom up as the ground got too close. 

Grant’s broom skated across blades of grass as he tried to turn back towards the snitch.

Harry already had an arm outstretched.

The stands erupted.

The Firebolt vibrated under him as he tried to slow down, taking a lap around the field.

Harry landed, fist still clenched around the fluttering wings of the snitch. He stumbled off his broom, leaving it in the mud, trying to catch his breath as the shifting of wind signaled the rest of the team coming towards him. 

“That broom is something else,” he muttered, trying to adjust to his feet on the ground again.

He could hear Lee shouting in the microphone, the crowd in an uproar, Gryffindor players cursing as they started dejectedly towards the locker rooms.

He could feel his heart as it tried to beat out of his chest, his lungs rattle as they tried to catch any molecule of oxygen, his legs trembling as they tried to keep him standing.

Just when he thought he was about to collapse, arms grabbed him from behind, pulling him into a bear hug as Marcus spun him around, laughing heartily in his ear. As soon as his feet touched, Adrian and Miles sandwiched him, Perrigrine reaching through the huddle to rustle his hair even further into a mess. Warrington grinned from just beyond the group, leaning on his own broom.

Harry pushed Bletchley off of him just in time for Draco to land and throw his arms around Harry’s shoulders, expression lighter than Harry had seen it in months. 

It only took a second for Draco to realize his action, pulling back with an embarrassed flush.

Harry saw Adrian take a pointed step away from Draco, and Harry immediately tackled his cousin into the ground with a cackle.

“No!” Draco’s laughter pealed through the stadium as the rest of Slytherin broke free of the stands and started to stream towards them. “Hadrian, let me go!”

Harry’s laughter sounded far too much like Sirius to give anyone any comfort as he took a hand and pushed Draco’s perfectly clean, near-white hair into a patch of mud.

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere.
not my og plot or characters but fuck the og author so
comments, kudos, shares, bookmarks, etc all greatly appreciated.
getting close to the end :)

Chapter 18: Potter, Harry Potter

Summary:

Back from 'Easter' break, our kiddos kick into study frenzy as end of year testing gets closer.
The arrival of Buckbeak's execution has everyone on edge.
Harry, especially, seems to be out of sorts...

Notes:

shorter chapter this week, but next week is when it all starts to come together as we get even closer to the end of the year...
hopefully the shenanigans make the shortness worth it
(also i really wanted to add a scene to use my new favorite word which is gargalthesia, so enjoy Hermione and Theo being swots just because i am)
also i'm uploading this on my phone so if there's issues i'll fix them after i eat way too much barbecue :)

“Friday night?” Hermione shrieked, scanning the letter quickly.

Draco winced. “Merlin, Granger, are you learning to speak banshee?”

“Oh hush,” she replied, smacking his shoulder. “Your father really won’t stop it?” 

He shook his head, moving back towards where Theo was studying at the next table over. “He insists that it’s necessary to keep his influence, or some rot.” He shrugged.

Ron rubbed Hermione’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. Like I said when this all started-not even my parents would be thrilled with Hagrid if I got hurt like that.”

She turned to him, eyes watering. “It’s just not fair, why couldn’t he go to a reserve or something?”

“Because he had a trial, and the judge decided he was too dangerous for that.”

“He’s not, when he’s treated correctly!” she hissed, trying not to let Draco hear. 

“I know, but there’s not much we can do now, Mione.”

“Yes, there is.” They look up to see Harry reading the letter over Hermione’s shoulder. “Friday?” His eyes glazed over, lost in thought. “I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered as he walked back off, leaving the library entirely.

Hermione and Ron shared a glance.

“Should we be worried about that?” Ron muttered, pulling his potions essay towards himself.

“Well…” Hermione trailed off. “It’s not like he’s going to make anything worse. Now, did you bring the charms study guide I made you?”

Ron groaned but reached for his bag. “Why do I need to know the specifics of why the tickling-jinx causes intense, full-body laughter? Isn’t it enough to know that, and not that it's due to pressure in ticklish areas?” 

“It’s called gargalesthesia.” Hermione responded, flipping through a notebook.

“What in the world does that mean?” Draco asked, frowning from his seat nearby.

Theo was the one who responded. “Giggling or laughter because of significant tickling to areas of sensitivity. The type of tickling is called gargalesis, a stronger version of knismesis.” 

“Why do you know that?” Draco asked before turning to Hermione. “Why do either of you know that?”

Ron shrugged when Malfoy’s gaze landed on him. “Dunno, mate. Chess?”

Draco’s agreement was undermined by both Hermione and Theo saying no.

 

The library was close to bursting.

Millie had taken to bringing her cousin tea every day, just so the librarian wouldn’t turn her stress towards the students.

Books regarding class subjects were no longer allowed to be taken from the library.

Study rooms were fought over, tables had claims laid, even the quiet corners had bags and cloaks marking territory.

Exam season had officially begun.

The Heralds, for the most part, had retreated to the Nook for their study sessions, easily having enough books between the lot of them to have answers to any questions that arise.

Hermione and Theo would disappear into the library for entire afternoons at a time, skipping dinner more often than not to grab the more popular books while everyone else was gone. The corner they had claimed was tucked in an alcove behind one of the fireplaces, barely accessible by anyone even slightly bigger than a lanky fourteen year old.

And no one in the years below them dared to interrupt the two.

Harry would only duck in to nap, curling up against the brick wall on the other side of the fireplace, enjoying the stolen quiet that was rarely afforded him, even in the Nook with their friends.

That week, however, Harry seemed more distracted than usual.

He had disappeared into the Gryffindor common room one morning, hunting down the group of second-years who barely strayed from their pack.

Theo had walked into Harry’s room to see his trunk half empty, his belongings strewn about his room, this time due to Harry’s own searchings, looking in just in time to see Harry waist deep in the stasis compartment. 

(He immediately forgot why he wanted Harry’s attention, turned on his heel, and left without a word.)

Pansy slid next to Harry one morning, a mischievous smirk gracing lips lined with a muggle chapstick she’d begged Hermione to buy her.

“Sunset. Fudge, Dumbledore, Macnair. Paperwork has to be signed prior to the event.”

He looked up, half asleep on top of his History textbook. “Confirmed?”

“Yep.” She gave him a grin. “Ihebuzor, that firstie whose dad is like, some Ministry ambassador from Nigeria? She got him to ask around.”

“You made a first year information hunt for you?”

“Made?” Pansy gasped, holding back a smile to turn her expression indignant. “She did so willingly.”

“They willingly tell you things now?” 

Her faux outrage dropped. “Oh, yeah. Ever since Rowan started telling the younger kids about espionage muggle movies or whatever, they’re all obsessed with being some spy network for you.”

“I’m sorry, for me? I have eleven-year-olds trying to be little M’s running around?”

“I have no frame of reference for that. I don’t actually listen when Rowan talks about those things. But sure. Spy ring. And I’m the point of contact.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Nope, that’s your dogfather.”

Harry’s confused look turned blank as he stared at her. “You’re hilarious. Become the first wixen comedian.”

“Can't," she joked, sucking air through her teeth, "I have your underground information gathering to coordinate. Who needs portraits when you have snotty first years no one pays attention to? Even Brown will pull me aside if it’s actually important.”

He groaned. “Thank you for the information. Now leave me alone. I have plotting to do.”

“Yes, my liege. I will direct your underlings to continue to do your bidding.” She gave him a half bow with an evil grin.

He pulled her upright. “You know I hate that shit.” 

“Too bad you’re exceedingly good at it.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and skipped down the hallway.

 

For everyone else, the Nook was, as usual, their study room. 

The twins were forbidden from brewing or experimenting anywhere on the entire Serpentine Hall until after exams.

It was also becoming the center of operations for the Grey faction of Hogwarts, which was kicking into high gear with the cleared name of Lord Black.

Teenagers, apparently, made for the best recruits, and even better unpaid interns.

Especially those who were intrinsically motivated to take over the Nook with enough paper to make the table beneath it groan.

“Susan? What are you doing?” Hannah asked, eyes warily skating over the piles of documents surrounding her best friend. 

Susan looked up with a grin. “I’m bored, and if I read one more study guide on Defense, I’ll cry. Any questions I have left I’ll just ask Hadrian later. So, for now, I’m making outlines for any political response he or Hermione might need moving forward.” 

“Because you’re… bored? We’re thirteen, why are you worrying about this right now?” 

“You don’t think Gerard is doing that?” 

She waved Justin’s question off, not even blinking at the fact he had an arm around Hannah’s waist. “That’s for legality. Politically speaking, there might need to be a… softer approach.” 

Hannah gave her a smile. “Lightheart.” 

Susan blushed. “Oh, go canoodle somewhere. I have to create an organizational system for the stacks of form letters we might need.” 

Justin grinned, pulling Hannah back towards the door. “Sure thing, boss.”

 

That Wednesday night, Harry led his two best friends back into the castle, all wearing muggle clothes, dirt, and wide smiles.

“That was all you needed? Just to scout a path from Hagrid’s cabin to the edge of the beach?”

Harry shot Ron a wink and tapped his nose. “It’s all coming together.” He ignored Ron's confusion and bumped his shoulder against Hermione’s. “You didn’t have to study tonight, Mione?”

She gave Harry a winning grin. “I can always make time for my boys. Especially if we stop at the kitchens after.”

Ron threw his arm around her shoulders. “And if that ever changes, we will kidnap you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Weasley, you can’t even walk on a path without tripping over a root.”

“That’s not my fault, it was dark!”

“Sure, Tonks.”

“Why do you always have to sneak into the Forest at night anyways?” Ron whined, brushing off the dirt from his robes.

“Besides the fact that we have classes during the day?” Harry responded, eyebrows raised. “The magic in the Forest is more settled at night. If I know exactly what I’m going in for, it’s fine during the day. But exploring, or trying to find something with only a vague location in my head, it’s easier and safer at night.”

Ron frowned, looking towards Hermione, who was casting preservation charms on the ingredients she’d found. “That makes no sense.” 

“Magic rarely does.” Harry trailed off, digging in his bag for a jar of pretzels he had stashed.

“Well, actually-” Hermione began, walking along with Ron.

Harry pulled his cloak out of the bag, attempting to find the jar. “Where is it?” he groaned. "I wanted Dobby to melt some chocolate to dip them in."

A noise from down the hall had them freeze for a millisecond before jumping silently into action: Ron pulling Hermione into an alcove a few feet ahead, Harry wrapping the invisibility cloak around himself as tightly and as small as possible.

Around the corner, steps unsure, open bottle in her hand, was the wizened face of Sybill Trelawney.

Even under the cloak, Harry was pressed against the wall, eyes screwed closed, breath caught in his lungs. 

The professor stumbled, barely even brushing against Harry’s shoulder. 

The smell of sherry was nearly overwhelming, even as slight as he was breathing. 

They barely touched. 

But as soon as they did, the professor dropped the bottle on the ground, the glass crashing echoing along the empty hall surrounding them. 

Her head fell back, her voice turning haunted and awful.

The full moon will rise as vengeance takes flight...

The power of choice over the calling of blood...

What will be restrained will be let free...

The lost servant returns to his master...

The Dark Lord will rise once more...

Greater and more terrible than before...

Even as his base erodes from beneath him...

Blackness turning grey and secrets coming to light...

With a horrible gasp, Trelawney blinked back into reality, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, no, my drink,” she sighed, waving a wand to clean the mess. “Well, to the kitchens.” She stumbled forward again, humming a dissonant tune as she went.

A moment later, Ron peeked around a corner further down the hall. “Harry?”

He pulled down his hood, eyes wide. “What the fuck just happened?”

"Now we can't go to the kitchens!" Hermione peered out as well. “Was that real?”

Ron took a deep breath. “We’ll need to ask Millie, I think her uncle works in the prophecy part of the Ministry proper.”

“Isn’t that part of the Department of Mysteries?” Hermione asked, pushing Ron out of the way so she could straighten out in the corridor.

“Yeah, but there’s a Department of Modern History or something in the upper floors that keeps tabs on all of that.” Ron shrugged. “Neville or Millicent would know more.”

Hermione’s eyes glazed over. “Department of Modern History…”

With a sigh, Harry and Ron shared a soft glance towards the girl. 

Harry reached up to grab her arm. “I’ll have Aunt Amelia organize a tour, Mione, but you have to wait until summer.”

She gave him a mock pout. “Oh, fine.” She grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together. “Let’s go find Millicent, then. The kitchens can wait.”

"Don't know why you didn't want to take that class, Mione, the teacher seems wicked." They turned to Ron, who had stopped to scribble the words down. “I’ll have you two look this over before we share it. Do we think this is going to happen soon?”

“Is there any way of knowing?”

“Not unless it’s specifically mentioned,” Hermione frowned. “Lavender let me borrow her book on the history of Divination, which was a lot more informative than the textbook for the class." She stuck her tongue out at Ron. "Some prophecies can be given months, decades, even centuries prior to the events.”

Ron tucked the notebook away, stepping forward to walk on Harry’s other side as they headed towards the dungeons.

As they passed the two’s previous hiding place, Harry took a moment to narrow his eyes. “How cozy was that alcove?”

The other two blushed, but Ron worked through his embarrassment with a grin. “Let me know if you ever want to find out.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped, and he shoved a now laughing Ron away. “I-What-That's not-Shut up.”

 

“Hadrian, your eyesight is truly terrible.” 

Harry looked up from his bag with a sigh, looking at his own body walk into the room. “Yeah, I know. Can’t fix it until my magic matures and settles. Justin got an upper year to charm a pair of glasses close enough for you to see through.”

Colin spun, nearly tripping on Harry’s robe he’d changed into, arms wide. “You’re sure I can handle this?”

“I’ve been known to do a lot of stupid shit these past few years, or to act like an idiot. I don’t think anything you do will be that out of the ordinary. And it’s just for an hour or two.”

“Right.”

“And Dobby has got the second dose?”

Colin nodded, laughing when Harry’s curly mess of hair got in his face. “I’ve set an alarm for fifty minutes on my wand and then Dobby will lace my juice.”

“Okay. Don’t stay too much longer.”

“And then come back to the Nook. I know, Hadrian. We’ve gone over this six times.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’m a little stressed. If this doesn’t go perfectly-”

“It will,” Justin interrupted, leaning into the room with a grin. “But not if you stay in here and worry yourself to death.”

“You’re a little too happy about this whole thing, Justin.” Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ve always loved James Bond.” He shot Harry a wink. “Come on, Hadrian. Time for dinner.” He grabbed Colin’s arm. “Marcus is waiting for us.”

“Good luck,” Colin called over his shoulder.

Harry straightened, head tilting as he watched them go. “Is that what I look like from the back?” He shook his head, pulling out his invisibility cloak with a shaky breath. “Okay, Potter-Black. Show time.”

 

The doors to the Great Hall opened suddenly, half the hall turning to see Marcus shoving Harry through, towards the Slytherin table.

“Hadrian, no. You do not need to be there for the execution.”

“But Marcus, Hagrid-”

“You can see Hagrid tomorrow.” He pushed an indignant Rowan into a resigned Adrian to plop Harry down. “You don’t need to see Julius’s dad do his job tonight.”

Everyone within earshot looked towards the Ravenclaw table, where Julius Macnair was close to tears, Penelope Clearwater’s arm around his shoulders.

Harry softened, but nodded. “Fine.”

Luna settled beside him, eyeing Harry with a knowing smile. “Hagrid will be okay. I’m sure Newt has been through this before, and can talk him through it.”

Hermione, dragged to dinner by a weary Ron, looked up from her book. “And we can visit tomorrow. I have a free period on my study schedule right around noon.”

“You should be using that for lunch,” Ron argued, pushing a basket of rolls towards her.

She waved him off. “Okay, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “Pass the juice?”

 

Twenty minutes after Marcus had guided a polyjuiced Colin into the Great Hall, shadows shifted through a door leading out of the back of the castle.

His shoes were silenced, and all of the students were either studying or at dinner.

He knew he was slightly early, taking a long arc to get behind the hut, towards where Buckbeak was chained, chirping at the force he could sense nearby.

He pulled back the hood slightly, just enough for the hippogriff to recognize him and calm.

“Shh. Just me, buddy. But you gotta be quiet.”

They both settled, Buckbeak laying in the middle of the pumpkin field, Harry, still invisible, behind a hill of creeping thyme nearby.

A few minutes later, he spotted the door of the castle open again, Dumbledore leading two figures down the winding path.

“That’s him, then?” Macnair asked, shifting a giant axe on his shoulder, looking towards Buckbeak, now grooming himself.

“Yes, that’s the hippogriff in question,” Dumbledore responded, sounding mournful. “Shall we head inside, gentlemen? There is still the paperwork to be signed. Cornelius?”

Harry rolled his eyes as Fudge blustered agreement and the men went inside.

He immediately headed towards Buckbeak, pulling his hood back as he worked the knot on his lead free. “Sorry, bud, this might take a few. I gotta make it look like you got free on your own. Just cutting it would be too obvious.”

A moment later, he had the rope free and in his hand, slowly pulling the hippogriff into the Forest, dangling ferrets to entice him to follow.

They started to move faster when they heard a shout from Hagrid’s cabin, ducking through the trees as quickly as Harry dared. The path he had scouted a few nights before was narrow, but he had cleared it enough for Buckbeak to follow him. They finally stopped at a small inlet of the lake, enshrouded by the looming trees of the darkening Forest, just in time to see a prowling dog straighten into a man standing on two legs strides forward.

“All good?”

Harry pulled back his hood and grinned. “All good. You’re sure you can keep him safe for a few weeks?” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yes, prongslet. I can handle a hippogriff in the backyard for a bit.”

“You have a backyard? I thought you were at the London townhouse? How is there enough room for a backyard?”

“Magic, Harry. We have a backyard, yes.” Sirius bowed to Buckbeak, grinning when he bowed back. “You know, your father and I got into a lot of trouble when we were your age, but we mostly just broke school rules, not international law.”

Harry shrugged as he handed his godfather Buckbeak’s rope. “I’m precocious.”

Sirius laughed heartily as he climbed onto the back of the hippogriff. “I can tell you’re gonna give me a run for my money, kid.”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty,” Harry agreed. “McGonagall is giving me some ideas. Says it’s payback for when you and Dad were giving her premature grey hairs.”

Buckbeak kicked off the ground before Sirius could do more than give Harry a betrayed look.

He waited until they were nothing more than a speck on the horizon before pulling his cloak around his shoulders again and heading back to the Nook.

 

An hour later, Harry sat up from his dozing sprawl in front of the fire to see his own face contort and bubble, his form shrinking slightly to transform back to Colin Creevey.

“How’d it go?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Do I have detention?”

Colin snorted. “Nah, Flint caught enough attention just getting into the room. Luna knew immediately, of course, and I think Hermione caught on when I didn’t eat any treacle tart, but other than that I think it went well. Did Lord or Heir Black have any trouble?”

“Home free. Mission accomplished.” 

The Gryffindor grinned. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

Harry’s smirk grew to match Colin’s. 

The two high-fived, heading out of the Nook and back towards the entrance hall, chatting about muggle shows.

Neither noticed the rat sitting around the corner before running around the corner and towards the closest door.

Notes:

usual droning on: not my og plot/characters, just stealing them
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
comments, kudos, shares, tumblr messages, all greatly appreciated :)

Chapter 19: Rat on the Run

Summary:

Sirius invites the trio to a lovely brunch on the grounds that turns into an evening stroll.
No one was prepared for the uninvited guest, nor the chase that followed soon after.

Notes:

I'M SORRY I KNOW I'M A TERRIBLE AUTHOR
i didn't mean to skip last week, but...
i knew what the next chapter was, i just could NOT figure out how to get there organically
honestly i'm still not fully happy with this chapter, but i can't let y'all down another week
so here it is
might fix it up a little later
hope it's not making your eyes bleed like it is mine after worrying over it for so long :)

The next morning, Harry and Hermione dragged a groaning Ron out of his bed, Harry holding a steaming cup of coffee just out of his reach until he dressed and followed them out of the dorms.

“It’s early.”

“It’s ten in the morning. Harry and I have been up for hours. He even dragged me for a run.”

“That’s awful. Why don’t we all go back to bed.”

“We have to see Hagrid,” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Why, so we can see him cry? He lost Buckbeak last night.”

“We have to support our friend, Ronald,” Hermione sighed, poking the one spot on his back that still managed to be ticklish after a childhood of Fred and George.

Ron pouted. “And we have to support him before breakfast?”

“Once again, it’s ten in the morning.”

“Sirius wanted to bring us a late brunch,” Harry interrupted, lacing his arm through Ron’s. “Said he found this muggle patissiere near the townhouse that puts Puddifoot’s to shame.” Harry frowned. “Although we’re not to tell Madam Puddifoot that, at our own risk.”

They wandered through the slowly-awakening castle, a few dozen students awake and heading either to or from breakfast.

“Is Sirius even supposed to be on campus?” Hermione frowned. “It’s not even a Hogsmeade weekend.”

Harry grinned. “We sweet-talked Professor McGonagall. Pulled the whole, ‘wrongfully imprisoned and didn’t get to see his godson growing up’ card. She’s allowed him limited access to the grounds for the rest of the year. Luckily she’s able to add him to the wards, especially since they added the Animagus one.”

“Doesn’t that hurt Minnie at all?” Ron frowned, mouth obscured by the mug.

“Nah, it only affects someone passing through the wards. So anyone who isn’t added and is on the grounds can’t leave, and no Animagus not added can enter.”

“Does Dumbledore know about Sirius?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Ron was only slightly awake by the time they crossed the dew-ridden grounds and knocked on Hagrid’s massive door.

The Care professor was grinning when he let them in. 

Harry bit back a smile.

Hermione and Ron traded confused looks.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Hagrid grabbed Harry and swung him around in a hug, thanking him profusely.

Harry was laughing even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Hagrid, you’re very welcome, but I can’t breathe!”

He was released to look up into Hagrid’s tear-ridden grin.

“They knew it weren’t me, but even Macnair didn’t see who undid the rope. Almost like they were invisible.” 

Ron’s face cleared just as he burst into laughter.

Hermione’s head snapped up, eyes set on Harry. “I knew you seemed off at dinner last night!” she hissed. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

He shrugged. “Best way to make it seem real, have you guys not know it isn’t.” 

“You could have gotten caught! Arrested! Expelled!” 

She turned to Ron, who just held up his hands and stepped back, drawing Hagrid into a discussion on Buckbeak. Hermione huffed and turned back towards Harry, whose face had grown solemn.

His voice was lowered, letting Ron distract Hagrid. “Those are the sacrifices I have to be willing to make, right? If I’m not willing to put myself at risk, how can I expect people to do it on my behalf?” 

She deflated, watching him carefully. “This is about Theo’s dad, isn’t it.” 

The table creaked under his hand. He pulled back, not noticing the slight scorch in the wood in the perfect shape of his hand. When he looked back at her, his eyes were hardened. “It will be.” 

“Oh, Harry.” She moved around the table, pulling him away from the scorch mark. “You know you don’t have to deal with that?”

“Just like you lot didn’t have to help me with the Dursleys?”

“We had adults helping. Legal help.”

He studied their joined hands for a moment. “Don’t worry, Mione.” He looked back up with a wry grin. “I never said I’m dealing with it alone .”

They chatted with Hagrid for a while, Harry promising the safety of the hippogriff and then immediately spiraling into a complex conversation about the conservation of various creatures.

It had reached noon when Ron cleared his throat from across the room, a plate of biscuit crumbs in his lap. “Okay, now that we’ve consoled a mourning Hagrid, can we go find Lord Black and get whatever additional food I was promised?”

Hermione laughed, slightly watery. “Merlin, Ronald, your appetite could put Hogwarts into debt.”

He just shrugged. “Six siblings.”

Hagrid gave each of them a hug, before patting each of their heads and pushing them out the door. “Go, enjoy yer day. Plenty o’ sun to be had.”

The three of them tumbled out of the cabin, poking and prodding at each other as they started towards the school gates.

“I didn’t mean to rush us, but I didn’t want Lord Black to wait-”

“You absolute berk, you’re just hungry,” Hermione laughed, jumping on his back while she was higher on the stairs. “Six siblings or not, your stomach should be studied for science.”

“Mione, if you make my appetite the first muggle/wixen cross-culture research paper, I’ll never forgive you.” He hoisted her higher on his back, adjusting his grip on her knees.

Harry rolled his eyes as he started to peer down the path. “It won’t be the first. I’ll have my snake research published before she can find any rhyme or reason to your endless stomach.”

Before Ron could reach out to smack the back of Harry’s head, Harry had started to spring forward towards a lanky figure emerging from down the path.

Harry ran up to the form, bouncing on his heels. “So I guess you got home well enough last night?”

Sirius rolled his eyes, tousling Harry’s hair. “The new addition to the back garden is doing wonderfully. Kreacher is horrified.”

“That’s the family elf, right?”

He just hummed. “He’s half-mad, of course. And that’s coming from me.”

“A mad house elf?” Hermione looked down towards Ron. “Is that not… dangerous?”

Ron shrugged, jostling her.

Even more worryingly, so did Sirius. “Keeps things interesting.”

Harry snickered.

“Come on, there’s some tables along the wall we can sit at. I have an everlasting charm on these things, but the earlier they’re eaten, the better.” Sirius winked at them all and lead them through the gate house and up onto the battlements.

 

It was nearly dinner after they had finished their meal. Sirius had regaled them with stories of his time at Hogwarts, nudging Harry every time said story ended with James either saving him, or joining him in detention.

“Well, Sirius, sorry to tell you, but I’ve only had detention maybe half a dozen times.” Harry grinned as he leaned back.

Ron shot him a look. “You have detention once a week.”

“Doesn’t count,” Harry and Hermione replied.

“Why doesn’t it count?” Sirius asked, leaning forward with a curious expression.

“Potions,” Hermione sighed. “Harry’s such a nerd, he does extra lessons with Professor Snape once a week. They just call it detention to save face if anyone from outside of the school looks too closely.”

"You're calling me a nerd?"

Sirius clenched his jaw. “And he… he treats you well?”

Harry gave the slightest smile. “He’s fine, Sirius. He figured out that I’m not James in my first year. We have an understanding.”

“In school-”

“We’ve had this conversation, Sirius. And I've had this conversation with Severus, too.”

“I suppose…” Sirius sighed, standing. “I suppose I’ll have to learn to get along with him, then. Remus says he’s not half bad now.”

Harry’s smile grew. “Say, Sirius, want a ride on the Firebolt? I have it in my bag.”

The Lord Black instantly brightened. “Brilliant. Isn’t there practice going on? It’s beautiful afternoon, after all.”

“We’ll go to the lake. We started using it for pick-up games and unofficial practices last year. Works wonders as long as someone can accio any dropped quaffles.”

A few minutes later, they were looping around the forest, towards the lake.

“We appreciate you inviting us to breakfast, Lord Black.” Hermione gave a shallow curtsy before elbowing Ron, who was eating one last pastry.

“Ow-I mean, yeah. Thanks, sir.”

“None of that, now. I told you before. It’s Sirius to you lot, to any of Harry’s friends.” Sirius put a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder, winking down at him as he grinned right back up. “I’ve heard you three are even more tied together than I was with Remus and James.”

Ron rubbed his reddening neck, Hermione just smiled softly.

“You didn’t want to invite Professor Lupin?” Hermione looked back towards the castle as they headed towards Black Lake.

“Nah, I thought I’d grab lunch with Remus tomorrow. He’s probably not feeling the best today.”

Harry tilted his head. “I’d say he’s sick as a dog, but that’s more your area, huh?”

Ron and Sirius burst into laughter, Sirius grabbing Ron’s shoulder as they both nearly bent over.

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying to bite back a smile. "Is it possible to disown a godchild?"

The wind shifted.

Sirius’s laugh stopped abruptly.

He turned his face up, brows furrowed as he took a deep breath through his nose. 

Harry immediately turned back when he realized Sirius had stopped. “You okay?”

“There’s something… Something’s off, but familiar… I just can’t put my finger on it…”

A sharp pain lanced through Harry’s ankle. “Shit!” He fell to a knee, reaching towards his foot. 

He smacked the small gray mass that was suddenly scurrying up his torso.

“What the hell?”

Ron’s face turned ghostly white as he caught sight of the creature. “Scabbers?”

In the blink of an eye, Sirius was on all fours, fur rippling as he shifted and growled.

The rat, however, was suddenly on two legs.

The man was shaking, face thin and reedy, hair balding, front teeth eerily reminiscent of the rat he just was.

Obviously, life on the run had not been beneficial for Scabbers.

His eyes darted around the clearing, before he moved, practically apparating.

In his near-skeletal hand was a dark, unfamiliar wand.

A wand that was suddenly pointing directly at Ron as Pettigrew stood behind him.

“Give me the cloak. James’s cloak.” Pettigrew’s voice was hoarse, disused. 

Ron was shaking.

Hermione was hesitating.

Padfoot was growling.

Harry was furious.

He forced himself into his pureblood heir mask. This man did not warrant any sincerity.“I don’t have it,” he drawled, monotone and dry.

Peter snarled. “Liar! I’ve been with you for two years, I know you keep it in that bag of yours!”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe it is. You’ll never find out.”

Sirius lunged.

Pettigrew flinched, falling to the ground, dragging Ron with him.

Ron shouted as Sirius’s jaws caught on his leg. “Fuck!”

The dog dropped his grasp with a whine, giving Peter just enough time to get up and drag Ron towards the Forest.

A forest darkening more than usual with a black mass hovering just over the trees.

“Where is he trying to go?” Hermione asked, voice quivering.

Sirius shifted back, body still trembling in anger. “The Shrieking Shack, I’m sure. No one outside of us knew of the passage on the grounds, it was Remus’s safe space to transform.”

Hermione reached out, hesitating slightly before placing her hand on Harry’s arm. “Harry?”

He was watching where the two had disappeared between trees with a dead expression. “Where’s the passage?”

“Under the Whomping Willow. There’s a rune on a knot at the base that freezes it.”

Hermione looked between the two Blacks with a worried frown. They were eerily identical as they stared into the darkness. “Oh, Morgana help us.”

“I know a shortcut. Let’s go.” Harry veered to the left, starting a half-jog as he moved fluidly into the forest. “Hermione, send a paper bird message to Snape, please.”

Sirius snarled, back in his dog form. 

“Sirius, we’ll need more adults able to contain him. And to back up our story if something goes wrong. And you said yourself, Remus isn’t well tonight.”

“Is Professor Snape wise?” 

He spared another glance at Padfoot. “I can only hope the understanding we’ve come to over the past two and a half years means his fascination with keeping me alive and sane outweighs any childhood feud he may have with my godfather.”

A moment later, a folded piece of notebook paper was speeding towards the castle.

Padfoot sprinted ahead, keeping just barely in sight as he tried to catch the scent of Pettigrew and Ron.

Harry sighed, turning back to Hermione with an open hand. “Shall we?”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Harry.”

“Hermione, you should know better than that.” He gave her a strained, pained smile. “I never know what I’m doing.”

She sighed, ducking under a low branch. “I guess that’s why I’m here.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re here because even outside of the chaos that seems to follow me, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

She blushed. “Shut up. Let’s go find Ron before he kills his childhood pet.”

“Gross.” Harry blanched. “Never phrase it like that again, please.”

Hermione bit back a snicker when she froze. “What was that?”

Loud rustling to their left had them both whipping around, wands out and ready.

Padfoot was suddenly there, between them and whatever might be coming.

They only slightly relaxed at the sight of Lupin stumbling through the brush. 

The Grim huffed and pounced off again.

“Lost, Lupin?” Harry asked, stepping back from where he had edged in front of Hermione.

“Hadrian, thank Merlin. I had the map open-” 

“And just decided you needed a stroll?”

“I saw Peter on the map-”

“Obviously, why do you think we’re out here?”

Hermione flicked his ear. “Harry, be nice. He’s trying to help, and you did say we needed adults to help.”

“There was a particular reason I had you message Severus and not him.”

Lupin looked between them, brow furrowed. “Where’s Mister Weasley?”

Harry bit back a retort after Hermione’s nails dug into his hand. “Pettigrew grabbed him. We think they’re heading towards the Willow, trying to get out through the shack.”

The professor’s face drained. “Oh, Merlin.” He turned to chase after Padfoot, who had just barked impatiently a dozen meters away.

They watched him go. “Peter has a student at wandpoint. But they’re perfectly fine with leaving two more falling behind in the Dark Forest.” Hermione shook her head. “Wizards. Absolutely no logic.”

Harry laughed. “Come on. Let’s go get Ron. He’s probably half-starving by now.”

Neither mentioned how much their hands shook as they started towards irrational danger.

 

The Whomping Willow loomed above them, the evening sun casting shadows that crept across and through the grounds.

Padfoot and Lupin were ducking behind a large root system, looking over the expanse of the clearing where the tree shifted ominously. 

“You’re sure they were coming here?” Lupin asked, turning back to Harry.

“Sirius seemed sure. I can only assume I know the forest better than Pettigrew. I don’t always pay attention to the paths.”

“Hadrian, I must say, exploring the forest is quite dangerous-”

Hermione’s expression shuttered. “You must be joking, sir, we’re about to face off a follower of Riddle who is holding our friend hostage and you’re trying to be an authority figure on the risks of the forest?”

He cleared his throat. “Quite right, Miss Granger.” He turned back towards the tree. “How are we going to stop him, if he’s using Ronald as a shield?”

Padfoot just growled. 

“Fantastic,” Lupin replied dryly.

“Shh,” Harry whispered, eyes catching on movement on the other side of the tree.

Hermione grabbed his arm. “Maybe you could sneak up on him, in the cloak?”

“And risk him getting it, when we know that’s something he wants?” Harry shook his head. “We’ll have to figure something else out.”

They fell into silence, watching Peter and a visibly angry Ron inch closer to the bottom of the tree. 

Just as Pettigrew moved his wand from the center of Ron’s back, clearly aiming towards whatever knot that contained the immobulus rune, a blur rocketed out from the tree, pouncing around Ron’s figure and landing claws first into the chest of the man.

Peter cried out, dropping his wand, and Ron didn’t hesitate before kicking the wand back into the forest and diving out of the way.

Padfoot was on Peter a second later, both paws on the man’s chest, saliva dripping from his bared teeth inches away from his throat.

Lupin hovered a few steps from Pettigrew’s prone form, wand in hand at his side.

Harry and Hermione sprinted for Ron, pulling him away from the confrontation.

Ron gasped as he grabbed both their hands. “Blimey, Mione, I’ll never say another bad word about that cat of yours.” 

They all looked to see Crookshanks licking blood from his paws, tail flicking violently back and forth.

Harry squeezed his hand, pressing a kiss to the side of his head before standing. “Let him up, Sirius.”

Padfoot’s growls grew louder. 

“Oh, Harry… You must understand… James…” Pettigrew started, before slamming his mouth closed as Padfoot snapped an inch away from his nose.

“Sirius.” Harry moved closer. “We’re not killing him. Not like this. Remus has his wand at the ready, he won’t get away.”

Padfoot turned slightly, dark eyes set on Harry’s resolute expression, before he moved off the other man, beginning to pace in a loose circle around them all.

Peter slowly moved, first to his knees, and then to unsteady feet. “Thank you… Harry… You look so much like your father, like James… James would understand… He wouldn’t want me killed…”

“Shut up, rat, I’m not doing this for you. If Sirius kills you, he’s back in Azkaban.” Harry sneered, voice laced with sarcasm. “And that would ruin my summer plans.” 

“Harry… Please… I’ve been a good friend… To you, to my master…” He looked past Harry to where Ron was suddenly nauseous. 

“What part of shut up did you not understand?” Harry moved closer, wand vibrating in his shaking hands. “You dare talk about being a good friend? Your cowardice killed your friends. My parents. Countless others, I’m sure.”

“You don’t understand, Harry, the Dark Lord, he’s powerful, he has weapons you wouldn’t even begin to believe… I was never brave, not like your father…”

“What did you think would happen, Pettigrew? You were willing to hide as a rat until you died? Or did you not realize that someone would finally figure it out, that if Riddle didn’t kill you, those you left to mourn would?”

“Harry-” He held out his hands, looking down at Harry with a pleading expression.

Harry kicked out, snapping the man’s knee. Pettigrew fell to the other crying out in pain.

“You’re taking Sirius’s cell in Azkaban, Pettigrew. You’re taking it tonight.”

“Harry, you don’t understand-” He was cut off as Harry stepped forward, one hand fisting the man’s tattered shirt while his wand dug into the soft flesh under his chin.

“Don’t. There is nothing you can say that will make you absolved of making me an orphan. Of killing your best friends.”

Peter burst into tears. “He was terrifying! He knew things, he knew about my mother, about me-”

Sirius growled as he circled closer.

Harry leaned forward. “Do you want to find out how resourceful I can be, Peter? Your lord was nowhere near as politically powerful as I am. Shall we find out what I can learn of you?”

The man was shaking. “Please-”

Harry drew his hand back, fist slamming across Pettigrew’s face, wand clenched tightly within it.

He allowed the man to fall. “I’ve learned all I need to know. You’re a snivelling, backstabbing coward.” He looked down, debating on just succumbing to his instinct and starting to kick. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Sirius?”

In a step, Sirius was standing human once more. “Yes?”

“Stun him, if you would?”

“I could kill him, just now, Harry-”

“Sirius, no. We need him alive.”

“Why?” The word was hissed through clenched teeth.

“My dad might have wanted him dead for revenge, Sirius, but I don’t need another name on my body count. I am not a jury or executioner.” He deflated, leaning against the harsh surface of a tree. “Besides, this will make Cornelious thrilled, and when Cornelious is happy, my life is exponentially easier.”

Sirius snarled, but slashed his wand down.

The next instant, Peter was unconscious on the ground. Lupin followed suit with an incarcerous spell, leaving the man firmly tied.

“Ron, can you walk?”

The redhead nodded. “A bit of pain, but nothing I haven’t worked through from the twins.”

Harry pulled out a pain relief potion from his bag. “Here. It should be enough to keep you comfortable until we see Madam Pomfrey.”

“To the Hospital Wing, then?” Lupin asked.

Harry turned to answer, before the sight of Lupin had him hesitate. 

The man was pale.

Shaking.

Something in his eyes just seemed… off.

Just as the thoughts in his brain clicked into understanding, another figure burst through the underbrush.

Snape stood there, panting, eyes frenzied. “You fool!” He hissed towards Lupin. “You never came to my office, and by the time I had arrived at yours, you were gone! You’ve missed the timeframe to take the potion!” His eyes then fell on the rest of the group. “Mordred below.”

Hermione gasped as she connected the dots. “How did we not realize?”

“We had some pressing matters, Hermione.” Harry responded, gaze flickering around, taking stock of the situation in whole.

Ron frowned. “Wha-” He looked towards Harry, who was looking up through the branches towards the darkening sky. He followed his gaze, eyes setting on the faint light afforded by the rising full moon. “Well, shite.”

Notes:

poteatthegeek everywhere and anywhere and allwhere
not my original characters/plot just my puppets for the confines of the story
comments, kudos, shares, tumblr queries much appreciated
(ignore the fact my tumblr might turn into a goncharov revival, i just forgot how much i loved that storyline)
enjoy :)

Chapter 20: Fleeing Through the Forest

Summary:

Talk about a bad moon rising.
And bad decisions abound.

Notes:

I DIDN'T FORGET I PROMISE
okay i almost did
i was doomscrolling on yt shorts and then got a notification about a comment on my fic and was like... oh shit yeah that's right
anyways this one is a shorter one, i'm sorry
but we're ALMOST DONE WITH YEAR THREE WHAT
(hopefully this seems as high tense as it needs to? i forgot how hard scary stuff can be to write)

Remus’s face was as pale as the moon climbing the sky. “You all need to run. Quickly.”

“Professor Snape, can you take control of our cargo?” Harry nodded towards Peter, whose eyes were wide as he stared at Lupin.

Snape sneered. “Pettigrew. It seems the adage is true, rats fleeing from sinking ships.” He flicked his wand, the body rising to follow him. 

“Ron, go with him.” Harry gently shoved the redhead forward.

“All of you, come with me,” Snape hissed, black eyes gleaming.

Harry glared back. “Ron is injured, and Pettigrew’s existence will put a series of questions to bed. He must not be harmed. It’ll be easier if we split up, keep his attention distracted. Ron, go.”

Ron turned to argue, his expression betrayed, but before he could speak, both their heads snapped around.

Lupin began to convulse.

Tremors wracked his body as he curled into himself, spine nearly visible as it began to ripple under his skin.

Ron’s rebuttal died as he stepped back in fear, and then winced when his injured leg spasmed under him.

Snape’s wand flicked again, and Ron winced again as a conjured splint wrapped itself around the wound. “Come along, Mr. Weasley. Let’s get at least one of you safe from this madness.”

“Don’t die,” Ron implored, looking between Harry and Hermione. He began to trudge towards the Potions professor.

Just as the Defense professor fell to all fours, bones breaking and reforming to accommodate his other form.

Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth to cover her gasp, flinching back at each distinct snap. "How... barbaric."

Snape began to move faster. “There’s no time to strategize. Run, quickly, back to the castle.”

Harry grabbed Sirius’s arm as Ron and a floating Pettigrew followed Snape on the most direct path towards Hogwarts. “Can you help him? Like you did as kids?”

Sirius was already nodding. “I’ll stay with him, try to distract him.” He shifted and sprang forward, Padfoot darting to bark behind the panting form.

As Lupin’s figure began to straighten, tattered and stringy fur glinting in the dull light, Harry’s eyes trailed over him, lungs began to falter as he kept. Getting. Taller.

Moony yipped like a puppy as he batted at Padfoot, clambering after him as he went deeper into the darkness.

He flailed his arm out, blindly reaching until he smacked against Hermione’s shoulder behind him. “We should go. Now, preferably.”

She was nodding as she followed his hold on her arm. “Other way?”

“Other way. I can get us back to Hagrid’s cabin.” He pulled her back down a path going the direct opposite way from where the others had fled, and they began to jog.

For a few minutes, all they could hear was their own breathing, the occasional breaking of a twig underfoot.

It finally started to get lighter.

“There,” Harry called, pointing through just a few dozen layers of trees, where smoke could be seen from Hagrid’s chimney. 

“Thank Morgana,” Hermione replied, sighing in relief as she grabbed Harry’s hand. “Let’s find somewhere safe to wait for the others.”

Somewhere safe.

The castle, the cabin.

Other adults, actual help.

Harry felt something lift on his chest as they stumbled the last few feet.

They had just begun to leave the confines of the forest when they heard a loud crash and a yelp from somewhere behind them.

And, in true Potter fashion, any relief crashed to the pits of his stomach where it was dissolved into the incessant companion of fear.

They had both frozen in place.

Hermione slowly looked at Harry from the corner of her eye. The set of his jaw made her sigh of relief turn into one of resignation. “This is why none of us will live to see graduation, you know. Acting like reckless Gryffindors.”

He didn’t turn. “You don’t have to follow me.”

She smacked the back of his head. “We follow each other into whatever that may lead to. Until the end.”

The dark scoff that escaped his scowl was becoming far too normal for him. “We’re far too young to think like that.” 

“We’re far too young for a lot of things that happen to us. Lead on, Potter-Black.”

Hands clasped tightly together, each searching for something in the other, comfort or strength, maybe simply an anchor, they turned and headed back towards the noise.

 

His heart was thudding in his chest by the time they slowed back down, trying to calm their heaving lungs as quietly as possible. 

“It’s getting so cold, for this late in the season.”

Harry spared a glance up as he pulled her around a bramblepatch. “It’s the dementors.” He pulled his cloak tighter around himself. “They must sense Pettigrew’s guilt.” His brows furrowed. “Probably Sirius, too, knowing him.”

“Just perfect,” she sighed.

“Shh, I think we’re there.” 

They both squatted, using as much of the ambient shadows as possible as they inched forward.

“Can you see what happened?” Hermione whispered, voice wavering even as low as it was.

Harry nodded, staring at the sudden clearing in front of them.

Trees were strewn back, as if something crash landed and caused them all to uproot and smash onto the forest floor.

At the epicenter was Snape, standing over an unconscious Pettigrew and a shaking Ron.

Creeping closer, the model of a predator stalking prey, was the now-bloodied form of Moony with a wide, glistening snarl.

Snape’s wand rose up once more, aiming dead center at the towering beast drifting closer.

Launching out of the bushes was Padfoot, soaring over a fallen tree trunk nearly parallel with the ground as his front paws took Moony out at the knee.

Moony snapped at him, and the two began to tumble into a ball of fur and growls and flying spittle. In the darkness of the night, it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Hermione began to move closer to Ron, each foot placed slowly, deliberately, quietly.

Every new noise from the grappling duo on the other side of the clearing had her shaking hand twitch, but she kneeled at Ron’s side with a determined grace, clearly stolen from Pansy’s better-mannered days.

“What happened?”

Ron shook his head even as it trembled. “I don’t know if it’s my leg or Pettigrew somewhere. He must smell blood. Caught up to us right away. Snape hit him with something.”

She instantly began to fret over his wound, checking for any active bleeding.

Harry however, was watching not his godfather, but his head of house.

Whose wand had not dropped, even with Padfoot suddenly in his target range.

Whose wand had started to alight at the tip, something dark red, something that seemed to draw the weight on the air.

Without hesitating, Harry’s wand snapped from his arm holster into his hand.

Before the professor could finish the incantation, Harry’s disarming spell almost seemed to float across the clearing, hitting the man square between the shoulder blades. 

Hermione’s hit his left shoulder.

Ron’s his right leg.

Within a blink of an eye, three identical spells slammed into Snape’s body, catapulting him forward, his wand flying into a cluster of exposed roots.

The thud of his stunned form on the ground distracted Moony long enough for Padfoot to scamper away, putting himself between the students and the werewolf once again. 

“We’re definitely getting proper detention after this,” Ron muttered.

Harry’s hand disappeared into his bag until he clutched something with a warmth he longed could overtake them all.

Muttering a quick spell under his breath, he pulled the bluebell jar out, and with a near-desperate cry, flung it towards Moony. 

It cracked open across the being’s chest, the unbreakable charm now reversed, fire licking at frayed fur, and the werewolf yelped and fled back into the forest.

Harry fell to his knees, ignoring the pain of the branches and stones under him as he tried to rid himself of the adrenaline and fear still coursing through his body. 

Sirius was kneeling in front of him a moment later, a gentle hand on his shoulder as his eyes ran over Harry’s shaking form. “Are you alright?” He looked past to see Ron and Hermione, Ron’s arm around her shoulders. “All of you?”

They all nodded mutely.

Harry’s hand raised, tracing a scratch over his godfather’s eyebrow. “You always made it seem like you… you just played with him. Not… Not that.”

“It’s easier when he’s used to it. It’s been so long, he doesn’t remember.” Sirius gave a wry grin. “He will.” 

Harry’s face screwed up. “I don’t want to know.”

Sirius laughed. “Come on, let’s get you three out of here.”

“What about Snape?” Harry asked, looking towards the unconscious professor.

Ron’s face, somehow, got even paler. “What about Pettigrew?”

They all spun around, just in time to see Snape’s wand in a standing Peter’s hand, the ropes from Lupin’s spell disappearing with a flash.

They watched Peter give a slight waggle of his fingers before he shrunk, Snape’s wand falling to the ground once more, shifting into his rat form and disappearing into the forest.

Towards the closest wall of the campus.

Towards where they could sense dementors looming.

Sirius lunged forward with a growl that was more Padfoot than human.

“NO!” Harry pushed himself up, into Sirius’s space, ignoring his own tremors as he stood as tall as he could and tried to catch his breath. “He already made me lose my parents, don’t let him take you away, too. Not again.”

“Harry-”

“We’ll find another way, Sirius, please.” 

In that moment, Sirius looked down at the inherited face of his best friends, James’s jaw and chin and stubborn brow, Lily’s vibrant, proud eyes; but all he saw in that face was the toddler who would tug at his pant leg, begging for another bite of treacle tart, another go on the broom, or for him to just stay a little longer, his green eyes wide and near tears. 

“Please, Pads?” 

“Okay, Harry.” He looked back towards where the traitor had run. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Harry echoed, breathing heavily. “I have to get the others to safety.” He hesitated before giving the man a quick hug and darting back. “Don’t die, I’m already planning out my room.”

Sirius laughed as he shifted back, Padfoot huffing out barks as he disappeared back into the underbrush towards where Moony had run off. 

Harry took a moment to center himself before sticking a hand in his bag, rummaging for the cold, smooth grip of his broom handle.

“Ron, how’s your leg?”

“A shit ton of pain, but give me a few minutes and I should be good to move.”

“I’m going to get an eye on things. Hermione, can you try to get Snape up?”

She groaned, but stood to move over to the man.

“And stay away from the fallen trees, they can spring back up if the pressure changes.” Harry mounted the Firebolt, quickly ducking through branches to break through the canopy.

He circled the forest for a moment, never straying far from the new clearing.

He could see the castle, the grounds, instinctually mapping the quickest way out of the forest. 

How close they were to the idyllic night everyone else around them was assuredly having.

The clouds had rolled in, obscuring his sight for any further glances.

Any other night, he could see the large wall making up the boundaries of the campus, dark and looming.

Any other night, he could see the lake, the Willow, the glittering of lights in Hogsmeade.

Any other night, he could see the black mass that wasn't as cloud like as it should have been.

He shivered, the breeze chillier than it had seemed a few moments ago.

He sighed and corkscrewed back towards his friends.

“Professor, you have to wake up!” Hermione was clearly in tears below, wand shaking as she cast another diagnostic.

“You’re not seriously crying over Snape, are you?” Ron was looking up, tracking the broom’s path. “Harry, can you see Sirius and Lupin?”

“You know I’m a frustrated crier, Ronald!”

Harry scanned through the trees, but not even the leaves seemed to be shifting, no birds fluttering, no small animals fleeing.

That should have been his first sign.

“I can’t see anything!” Harry called back down, doing another loose loop over them, eyes towards where he last saw his godfather.

He was so concerned about looking for the two creatures, keeping an eye on Hermione and Ron, flickering towards the path towards safety, he didn’t notice the cloud of darkness he was drifting towards.

Not until he felt said darkness weave into his mind, loosening his grip.

By the time he hit the ground, his shoulder popping decidedly out of socket, he was already unconscious.

 

It was a struggle to open his eyes.

He knew, internally, he probably was only out for half a minute.

But his body felt like it hadn’t moved in weeks.

Pain radiated from various places around his body.

His head from Merlin knows what, his feet from running, his hands from shoving through underbrush and around trees, the knees from falling harshly on them in an all-too-brief relief.

It was instinct to curl up, to bring his aching knees into his heaving chest.

He blinked, although it took so long that it was probably more closing his eyes and reopening them.

It was cold.

So cold, it was giving a new definition to the term frozen. 

Yet somehow, his hands were still shaking.

A whimper made his iced mind start to thaw.

His head fell to the side, and he forced his eyes to focus on the forms huddled a dozen meters away.

The fear-ridden face of Hermione Granger, usually fierce and proud, made his lungs kickstart.

“Mione?” His voice barely left his throat, but somehow Hermione knew to look away from the oncoming monsters and meet his eyes.

Her plea didn’t need to be spoken.

Harry gathered every scrap of strength, every piece of anger he stored inside, every piece of stubbornness that he had inherited from Gryffindor parents.

He let the flame in his gut start to burn. 

He rolled over to his stomach, forcing himself up on his knees.

A shaking hand reached out, and he breathed the word accio, causing his wand to snap into his palm.

It wasn’t necessarily happiness that he called on.

Even with all of his friends drilling the fact that he deserved it.

There were some moments that were full of a dull, almost sticky joy.

Hermione’s hand in his, Ron’s arm around his shoulders.

Their usual train compartment fit to burst with friends, all crammed into the too small space just because they wanted to be close.

The grin of his godfather when Harry hugged him. 

But others were almost… vindictive. 

The stubborn feeling of standing between Draco and Quirrellmort’s wand.

The fear on the Dursleys’ faces when Gerard shoved a wand in their face.

The pale horror of Lockhart after he lost the lawsuit.

The reluctant pride when his friends looked to him for answers, for directions.

This was his world, and he found his place in it.

That place was not all joy, but it was rewarding.

And when it meant saving his best friends, his family…

That reward was the power he had been trying to learn to keep tabs on.

It was almost too easy, bringing his magic up.

He didn’t need to shout, to force anything.

His holly wand seemed to vibrate in his hand as he watched the black masses grow near.

“Expecto Patronum.”

Bursting from the end of his wand, the sudden light of the patronus made him flinch, falling prone once more. 

By the time he looked up, his raven had spectral wings spread wide, streaming towards the dementors.

Towards Hermione.

Ravens. Symbols of protection. Of wisdom. Of transformation.

Symbols of the House of Black.

Harry began to cackle as he felt his vision darken.

Notes:

was that at least somewhat nerve-wracking?
poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
not my og story/folks but watch the puppets dance
comments, kudos, shares, bookmarks, tumblr asks, wishes on the wind, all appreciated <3
give me the strength to finish year three as strongly as we started :)

Chapter 21: Reprieve and Healing

Summary:

Waking up in the Hospital Wing should not be as comforting as it is for Harry-but at least it's a right sight better than being among the rest of the school...
Hopefully exams will be a welcome distraction...

Notes:

I KNOW IT'S LATE AGAIN
honestly with only ONE CHAPTER LEFT AFTER THIS (????) i wanted to make sure the final points i need in this book get added in and in the right place
so hopefully this starts slowing things down
and hopefully the last scene isn't too surprising, i'm honestly kinda worried people won't like it :| but to be even more honest, that was the main point of this entire series, so oh well
last chapter will probably be up sooner rather than later but don't take my word for it, i don't trust myself and neither should you

He could tell by the feeling of the fabric against his skin-the starch press of a collar around his neck, the thinness of the sheet and blanket around him-that he was in the Hospital Wing.

He was going to have to get Poppy a spectacular gift for tending to him at the end of year after year.

Maybe donate some funds to the school specifically for the infirmary. He was Heir Slytherin, after all. And most likely had some Gryffindor blood somewhere back as well.

He didn’t open his eyes until he strained his ears to listen for any movement, any indication of who may be around.

Most of the noises were soft breathing, people sleeping.

He sighed and reached for his glasses, shoving them on his face as he pushed himself up on the bed as quietly as possible.

He fought back a small smile at his family around him.

Sirius was in Padfoot form at the foot of his bed, one leg twitching in sleep.

Ron was on one side, blankets thrown off in an effort to seek cool air.

Hermione was a pile of bushy hair on a chair in between them, a book splayed open on her lap.

He reached over, pulling her Nimue card-made-bookmark from the floor and placing it in the book to save her place, setting the book on the nightstand.

He thought about waking her, about shoving her towards Ron’s bed to let her get some actual rest, but movement distracted him, a pair of dark beads set decidedly on every movement.

Harry barely spared a glance for the shadow lurking in the corner of the room, rolling his eyes at the attempt for authority as he perched on the bed a few meters away. “I'm not going to apologize.” 

“For which one of your spells?” The shadow moved, arms crossed over his chest. 

He scoffed. “If I’m not going to apologize for myself, I'm definitely not apologizing for either of the others.” 

“If not an apology, perhaps simply a reason?” 

“You were threatening my godfather. Forgive me for taking umbrage with that.” 

Snape sneered. “Am I supposed to be impressed with flowering language?” 

“Sir, with all due respect, which right now is not what it usually is, I don’t give a flying hippogriff dung if I impress you or not. Sirius is not only my godfather, but my head of house. No matter what past you have with him, my loyalty is firmly behind my lord.” 

“You sound remarkably like your housemates. I'm not sure if I approve.” 

“Please refer to my previous comment.” Harry rolled his eyes. “If my sounding like a Slytherin worries you, these past three years must have been extremely difficult.” 

“Not nearly as the remaining four will be, I'm sure.” 

Harry looked him over, noting the shaking of the paler-than-normal man. “Are we good?” 

The professor rolled his eyes. “The three of you will be ensuring my classroom is in pristine condition before the Express departs at the end of the year, however the headmaster has already expressed his wish that the events of last night be… forgiven.” 

“How did we even get out of the forest?”

The man stretched out, grimacing. “From what I could gather, you lost consciousness after you cast a corporeal Patronus. Miss Granger, after the dementors had fled, was able to awaken me. Between the two of us, we were able to get you and Mr. Weasley here. I was in a potion-sleep when the two mongrels dragged themselves in.”

“Is Professor Lupin well? For his relative definition of the term?”

Snape waved towards the private area. “Resting, I’m sure. Poppy insisted he stay here until the effects of his transformation are completely over. There is some slight concern with his well-being having been on wolfsbane for so long and missed a dose.”

Harry looked over at the professor with a hesitant pleading look. “When can I learn?”

He was taken aback by Snape snorting in laughter.

“Not for many years to come, Potter-Black. And don’t try it just to try, like the polyjuice potion last year.”

Harry’s face paled. “How-”

“I’m the head of Slytherin, Hadrian. Even if I didn’t keep track of who added to the Potions cupboard in the common room, which I know you were partially behind, I always keep an eye on the students who have the habit to experiment in their free time, both in and out of my house.”

Harry watched the usually stiff professor across the wing, narrowing his eyes as he tried to place why things seemed different.

Maybe it was the exhaustion of the day.

Maybe it was that he didn’t have to be a professor at that moment.

He was in the infirmary, it was creeping slowly towards dawn, Harry, who spent more time with him than almost anyone barring McGonagall, was the only one awake.

But the man was smirking, not his usual sarcastic leer, but something actually relaying amusement.

For that moment, he looked like the thirty something man who he had to hide so frequently.

Harry blinked at that realization, and shot a grin his way. “So you’re admitting to being at least partially to blame for the Weasley twins and their antics?”

Snape snorted again. “They truly give your father and his band of idiots a run for their money. I must admit, and this shall not leave this room, that some of their ideas are not truly terrible. I ensure nothing I catch is dangerous, but for the most part, I’m simply interested in seeing what happens next.”

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest. “So we’re not starting over? I’m not going to have to relive the animosity from first year because I’ll be living with Sirius, with Lupin showing up now that they’ve seemed to mend things?”

The joy drained slightly, Snape’s smirk resorting back to his sneer. “As you so often have mentioned, you are not your father. I am fully capable of separating you from your precious Marauders, even if you start joining the Twin Terrors more often than not.”

“Can you separate me from Lily?” 

His question was barely a whisper, floating across the room like dust motes lingering in the beams of fading moonlight between them.

Snape looked out the window, features surprisingly soft. “Not as often as I’d like, to be honest.”

Harry opened his mouth, but his eyes settled on the suddenly too-still form of his godfather on the other side of his bed. “I should get some rest.”

“See that you do. I’m sure the school would fall apart if its precious hero didn’t make it to breakfast to recount his plight against the raging werewolf in the forbidden forest.”

“If that’s what you think is going to happen, sir, you haven’t been paying nearly enough attention.” Harry laid back out, one foot nudging one of Padfoot’s paws, pulling the blanket to his chin as he fell back into a deep sleep in the dimming light of night.

 

It was only a few hours later, far too early in Harry’s opinion, when the weight at the end of his bed suddenly shifted, and his foot was caught under his godfather’s human form.

“Sirius, get off,” he hissed, trying to pry his leg free.

“Oops, sorry, pup.” He got off the bed entirely, moving to the chair next to him, on the other side of where Hermione was finally starting to stir. 

“Ow,” she whined, stretching out, trying to get blood moving in her extremities. “That was an awful idea.”

Harry snickered. “C’mere, hop in for an hour or so before we wander down to breakfast.”

She nodded, climbing under the blanket next to him and curling into his side. Her breathing immediately softened again, not quite asleep, but in a half awake doze.

Harry played with Hermione’s hair, eyes skating around the room.

Ron was still snoring in his own bed.

Snape had disappeared, most likely having stayed awake throughout the rest of the early morning, fleeing as soon as Madam Pomfrey had cleared him.

Remus was awake, the private area open, nibbling on a chocolate pastry as he read. The runes were still thrumming with energy, offering two-way silencing spells and an alert system.

Harry was about to pull out a notebook, to sketch the runes out, when something that had been lurking in the outskirts of his mind came into focus, clicking into place.

Harry was watching Sirius.

Sirius was watching Remus.

Harry groaned at the look on his godfather’s face. “Oh, come on, really?”

Sirius whipped around, expression suddenly guilty. “What?”

“You’re in love with Lupin?”

Hermione, having shifted at his first admonishment, snickered into his side. “There’s that Slytherin subtlety that we were trained for.”

Sirius blushed, for the first time in over a decade. “Shut up. We had a thing in seventh year, before everything blew up around us. That’s all.”

“Oh, please,” Harry replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re obviously obsessed. If it weren’t for the mind healer, I’d say you were mad. Do I need to expect company at Grimmauld Place this summer?”

Sirius’s slack-jaw expression was answer enough.

“Ugh, fine. But if he hurts you, I know how to conjure silver, Aunt Cissa sent me the spell.”

“Harry!”

“I’m just saying!”

Hermione burst into laughter, which startled Ron awake, blinking in the sudden light of morning. 

“Whatzit?”

Sirius, still red-faced, stood, straightening his robes. “I should go, now that the three of you are up and clearly fine. Harry, I’ll be in touch before the train. You two, keep out of trouble.”

“Bye, Sirius,” the three chimed, Ron slurring as he rubbed his face. 

“Shall we get dressed?” Hermione asked, not moving from her position leaning against Harry.

As soon as they had settled back, now in their uniforms, Pomfrey was hovering over them, brows furrowed as diagnostic spells lit up around them.

Hermione, who hadn’t even needed to spend the night, who wasn’t even technically a patient, didn’t even make a face at being included in the check.

The matron sighed, wand tapping the palm of her hand. “I expect you three back for a final check before you go to sleep tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Get a good breakfast, and don’t study too hard. Exams are important, but your health doubly so.”

Ron covered Hermione’s mouth as Harry gently shoved her towards the door. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Theo almost cried when they walked into the Nook. “Oh, thank Merlin. We’re all behind on our review plans.

Neville shoved him aside, rolling his eyes before grabbing Harry in a massive hug. “What he means to say is, we were so worried thank Merlin you lot are okay.”

“No, I mean, Hermione come study.” Theo stuck his tongue out at Neville before dragging her away by her arm towards their usual armchairs.

“She is on strict instructions from Madam Pomfrey to not study too hard,” Ron called after them, shooting Theo the v when he looked back with a raised middle finger.

Pansy watched them with a smirk. “Please, oh please tell me I have information to disperse.”

Harry sighed, suddenly looking like he went through the wringer now that there were no adults to interact with, no students he felt the need to impress. “Ron, work with her on it? You probably remember more than I do.”

“Any constraints?”

He fell into the couch, not even apologizing when it woke Luna from a doze. She immediately turned to lean against him and fell back asleep. “If there’s a way to frame it without Lupin sounding like a monster, that would be great. And don’t mention us attacking Snape, that probably wouldn’t come across well inside Slytherin.”

Pansy leaned forward. “You attacked Snape?”

Ron waved his hand. “He’s fine, already back in his rooms, I’m sure. Come on, let Harry have some Luna cuddle time. I’ll catch you up and we can figure out what to spread to whom.”

Hermione’s head snapped up with a grin. “Ronald Weasley, did you just use whom correctly?” 

He blushed, and they started bickering. Harry sighed again, this time with a slight smile as he curled back into Luna.

About an hour later, Justin was shaking his shoulder. “Come on, mate. If you’re not going to make it to breakfast, at least eat something here.”

Harry blinked as he straightened, Luna gone, and leaned forward to grab at the mug of hot chocolate in front of him.

Hermione and Theo hadn’t moved from their corner, seemingly summoning more books towards them so they wouldn’t have to move even when they needed a different resource.

She looked over at his movement. “Oh, thank Morgana. Harry, can you walk us through the basic differences of creatures versus beings? I don’t want to put anything wrong, especially something that might offend Professor Lupin.”

“You were threatening him all morning, but now you care about offending him?” Ron called from playing gobstones with a bored Neville.

Harry tried to hide his grin. “Lupin’s really throwing us to the wolves with this test, huh?”

The silence that crept through the room was nearly deafening.

The pillows hitting him from all corners, however, were not.

Ron shook his head as Harry tried to wiggle his way out from the mountain of cushions. “How are you so much like Sirius already? You haven’t even met him half a dozen times.”

“It’s the Black blood,” a voice called from the doorway. “It gets even the best of us. I’m sure I’ll succumb to it sooner rather than later, myself.”

Draco’s smile was soft as he swept his gaze across the room, lingering over Pansy, then Hermione, until finally he looked at Harry.

Pansy’s face lit up and she also turned to Harry with a hopeful expression.

“Well, from where I’m standing, the more Black blood the better.” Harry nodded back at his cousin, before gesturing towards Ron. “Give Ron a challenge, will you? We’re not cleared to fly for another few days, and Neville looks like he’s about to shove a gobstone down his throat just to save himself.”

Neville snorted but stood. “Feel free, Draco. He already asked to play chess, I simply had the stubbornness to keep saying no.”

“Cheers… Neville.” Draco smiled again. 

“Oh, Draco, were you heading to France again this summer?” Hermione asked, closing her book and turning away from a pouting Theo. “I think I was able to convince my parents to visit Marseilles this year.”

Neville quickly took her place next to him, whispering something in his ear that made him burst into an inelegant snort.

Ron set up the chess board as Draco and Hermione started chatting in French.

Harry looked over at the couple in the corner. “Say, Nev, any more mindhealing this summer?” 

“Nah, I think I’m okay.” Neville moved away from Theo and settled next to Harry, stealing a pastry from his breakfast tray. “Gran only really let me do it last summer because Lord Malfoy offered to cover the fees.” 

Harry’s head whipped around. “Really?” 

He just nodded. 

“Aunt Narcissa must have been very convincing.” 

Neville snorted, his voice lowered. “Gran is still furious at him, but it’s a start. He’s lucky she didn’t call a blood feud. I honestly think she’s holding out hope that the whispers of a Grey movement will have them on the same side.” 

“Gran would be willing to leave the Light?” 

“She was raised in a Dark-leaning Grey family to begin with. She’s from a cadet line of the Rowles. Not that she’ll really admit to that anymore, with her cousin being one of You-” Neville cleared his throat. “One of Riddle’s followers. But she kept to the Light after Grandpa died because that’s the way he would have wanted the house ran. Same with my da. But now that I’m older, and now that it’s clear my leanings seem to follow some errant heir,” Neville poked Harry’s side, “she might be willing to change a few things.” 

“What house was she?” Harry smacked Neville's finger away.

“Ravenclaw, of course. Completely acceptable for the family, until she fell for the Gryffindor.”

Harry hummed. “You know if you ever disagree with something I believe in, I’m not going to hate you for it. You can have your own thoughts.”

Brushing crumbs from his shirt, Neville rolled his eyes. “I’m fully aware. I’m not about to fully forsake my values, but don’t think that means I won’t stand behind you.”

He blushed, moving further down into the couch. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

 

The Heralds didn’t hesitate to shove people out of their way to settle around Harry at the Slytherin table when they emerged for lunch.

They tried to study while they ate, but Harry could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes flickering over towards him.

Whispers echoed around the Great Hall, about a priority suspect on the run, fleeing Hogwarts after an assassination attempt.

A newspaper with the report burned in Harry’s hands.

As Hermione waved her wand over his burns, a flicker of paper landed in front of him as Erin Avery passed behind.

My cousin in the Ministry confirmed it. Pettigrew was spotted breaking into a house in a village not too far from here, was confronted. Killed an auror and wounded two civilians, stealing one’s wand, before shifting and disappearing.

Hermione had to start healing his hands all over again.

 

Exams, after the stress of the previous few weeks, were almost too easy. Even Theo, who had worried excessively about running behind in their studying, walked out of their last test with a frown.

“Is it just me or was that simply… simple?” he asked. “All of them.”

Dean and Seamus groaned as they passed them, rolling their eyes.

Hermione mirrored his frown. “I wonder if they made it easier for us because this year was so hectic. I hope not, that’s not how the real world will work-”

“No,” Ron replied, covering her mouth. “I think it was that you two made us study every free evening for the past month. I was dreaming about Goblin wars last night, I swear. And we finished our history final three days ago.”

Padma chuckled as she scribbled furiously on a spare sheet of parchment, most likely copying the exam word for word for the younger years to use later on. “I think you two were even more obsessed than most of us eagles. And it’s not even an OWL year.”

Behind them, Harry had wide eyes skating around at the multiple sets of eyes looking back. He stepped up to Neville, hesitant hand around his arm. “How widespread is the rumor mill about what happened with Lupin and Pettigrew the other night?”

With a pat on his hand, Neville pulled him along, following the others towards their courtyard. “Pretty widespread, from what I can tell. Pansy has been doing her best to… curtail the details to fit the audience. The Gryffindors believe you were seeking revenge for the murder of your parents. Slytherins think you got pulled into some fight between two Death Eaters. Ravenclaws just want to know what being around a werewolf was like, and the Puffs are mainly just worried that the school is falling to pieces.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Anything negative I should know? Anything that’s gotten out of hand?” 

“Not from what I can tell. Lupin isn’t getting too badly run over, we’ve been pushing the sacrificed self and sanity for students avenue. Most people are just worried about the fact Pettigrew was apparently in the castle all year.”

“Just all year?” Harry raised a brow.

“We’re not about to give the entire school fuel to poke at Ron. All anyone knows, Pettigrew got onto campus this year finally trying to kill you before Sirius could find him and finish the job.”

“Thank Merlin.” 

“We’ve got your back, Harry. All three of you.” Neville patted his shoulder. “Besides, between the twins and Pansy, no one is really going to question things. We have a history of telling enough of the truth that people don’t think we’re making anything up. And if they do, Pansy’s minions will let us know and we’ll plan accordingly.”

Harry groaned. “I never wanted to become a teenage dictator.”

“Oh, it’s not your legion. It’s Hermione’s.”

They snickered as they stepped outside, faces lifted towards the warmth of the sun.

 

She sighed as she watched him. “Harry’s going to be furious.” 

Lupin gave her a wry grin. “He takes after Sirius far too much for my liking, after not even a year.” 

“None of us are comfortable with that comparison, and we’ve made it many times.” She didn’t bother moving further into the room.

She didn’t have much to say, especially knowing that Harry was most likely heading this way.

“Something you wished to discuss, Miss Granger? Your exam results, perhaps?”

“No, after seeing one up close, I’m fairly sure I got the characteristics of a werewolf correct.” She stared at him for a moment. “I’ll tell you this right now, Professor Lupin. Harry, for some inexplicable reason, even if he denies it, is quick to forgive friends of his parents. Do not assume this means his own friends will.” She shot him a glare worthy of a pureblood heiress.

Clearly she was learning from either Parkinson or Greengrass. 

“He may come to terms with the fact you are essentially his uncle, but we will always remember that part of the reason he went to his actual uncle is because you didn’t see Harry as a fight worth pursuing. Do not think his or Sirius’s affection towards you has any influence on the rest of us. You have to earn our respect, and our trust. And just so you are aware, I have quite a talent with fire spells, and I don’t think werewolves are very fireproof.” She turned to leave without a glance or chance for retort.

She would have given even Lily a run for her money.

 

Harry didn’t understand the sad smile Hermione gave him, followed by a kiss on his cheek, until he was on the threshold of the room, peering through the gap of the open door.

It took him less than a minute to realize what was going on, the organized chaos of Lupin’s office slowly becoming smaller as things floated around. 

He pushed the door open with a loud bang, nostrils flaring. 

Lupin would have heard him coming anyway.

“You’re leaving? Again?” 

Lupin sighed, not turning as he stacked books from the shelf against the window. “Hadrian, I’m leaving Hogwarts, not you.”

Harry scoffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Remus hid a smile. “Of course. Besides, Sirius needs some help around the house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that included setting up a room for you.” He turned, putting the books away before finally meeting Harry’s disoriented glare. “I’m not leaving you again unless you tell me to.” 

A tense silence fell between them, Lupin tidying his trunk while Harry pretended to fume. 

“I still haven’t fully forgiven you.” 

The man looked up with a nostalgic, not-quite-there smile, eyes flickering past Harry and towards the hallway. “I don’t expect you to. Evans never forgive easily.” 

Harry felt his heart swoop at the mention of his mother. A few more moments passed before he shifted awkwardly on his feet. “I’ll see you this summer?” 

The half smile turned genuine and wide. “I’d love that, Hadrian.” 

Harry bit his lip, groaning at himself. “Harry. You’re practically married to my godfather. You can call me Harry.” 

Lupin rolled his eyes at the characterization. “Harry, then.” He closed his trunk. “And now that the year is over, feel free to call me Remus.” 

“Well, Remus, I’ll see you soon, I’m sure. I may have you look over my History essay, Binns never seems to like my holiday work.” Harry headed towards the door. “I’m off to play some pick-up quidditch. Don’t trip over any wayward silver.”

 

“It would work, you know.” 

“Hm?” Hermione blinked in the sun, turning away from Ron, Harry, and Draco throwing a quaffle above them. 

“Asking for more. You three will be together no matter what, happily living your days together. But you’ll all be even happier if you make it official. It’s unusual, a triad, but there’s historical backing for a bonding ceremony for three, and your magicks will be far more settled if you do.” Luna’s eyes were glazed over, unblinking as she twirled a strand of her hair.

Hermione blushed furiously under her dark skin, but still watched the ball pass between them. “I didn’t know who to ask about that, and it’s not written about anywhere I can find.” 

Luna patted Hermione’s leg without looking away from the sky, eyes clearing. “My great-aunt was a part of a triad; I think Daddy still has her personal effects stashed away in the attic. I’ll check when we get home.” 

Hermione took Luna’s hand in hers. “He loves you, too, you know. He’s never clicked with anyone the way he did with you that first day, and in another universe, if he had met you first, neither Ron nor I would have stood a chance.” 

Luna’s bright, bubbly laugh echoed across the field. “People can have all sorts of soulmates. Maybe you’re right, and we would have lived a nomadic life getting married in all the different cultures of the countries we chased our creatures to. But I think this life will work out quite well for us all.” 

“Do you see your own life?” Hermione whispered, not looking at her friend, whose grasp on her hand tightened. 

“It’s always harder to see myself. But I see enough of me around the three of you in everything I see to know I won’t be left behind.” 

The brunette’s curls flew as she turned to face Luna. “Oh, of course not! You always have a home with us, no matter what. We see you, Luna, more than the visions, more than the wrackspurts. Just because you see threads we can’t follow doesn’t mean we don’t absolutely adore you, and respect anything you say even if we don’t immediately understand.” 

The younger girl smiled softly, closing her eyes as the sun shone on her pale face. “My mother always wished I would find a family beyond her and Daddy. I’d like to think she guided me to go to Sir Nick’s party that day. To make sure I had a family that would try for me, like she did for Daddy. I just never thought it would happen so soon.” 

Hermione wrapped her in a hug. “Always and forever, Luna. And not just because you're Harry’s creature soulmate. Not for what you can see. Because you’re you.” 

They were still hugging when the boys landed, confused at the sight. Draco just sat by his cousin with a scowl. Ron and Harry met each other’s gaze, shrugged, and threw their sweaty bodies on top of their two friends, who squealed and groaned at the added weight laying them out on the ground.

Notes:

poteatthegeek anywhere and everywhere
not my og shit
comments, kudos, etc etc all adored and appreciated
one chapter left and then it's the rush to organize year 4 notes :)

Chapter 22: A Hectic Start to the Holidays

Summary:

Looking back, it seems like a blink of an eye since they were piling off the Express for their third year, and now the Heralds are cramming themselves in to their usual compartment to head home for the holidays.
But it's not our band of misfits if there isn't some business to attend to...

Notes:

what. the. fuck.
how are we already done with year three?
i swear i just started writing this UNIVERSE a few months ago, and now our heroes are teenagers and about to hit their fourth year.
this chapter may seem a little weird, but i wanted to tie up loose ends and this was the easiest, maybe not cleanest, way of doing it
thank you for everyone who's been with me since the start, and to everyone who's been binging the first two years to catch up.
and to anyone who finds this months, even years after it's over and done with, welcome to the madness and strap in.
hogwarts is always there to welcome you home, even if its og author isn't.

“There you are, Harry,” Hermione grabbed his arm, pulling him into the crowd of students milling in front of the Great Hall. “Did you want to grab any food before we leave?”

He shook his head. “Dobby brought me a few mince pies.”

“How was…” Ron gulped. “How was Bai?”

Hermione spun around. “You went without me?” 

“We didn’t have time for you to dive into the library before we left.” He patted her hand, ignoring how her gaze turned into fire as she glared at him, turning to Ron instead. “She’s fine. Sad, of course, that it’ll be a while before I see her again, but when you’ve lived as long as she has, a few months is nothing.”

His friend just nodded weakly. 

Harry snickered. “How’d the last game of chess go for the year?” 

“Well, I tried a new muggle strategy.” Ron stretched, taking up far too much room than should be reasonable for a fourteen year old. “Took her by surprise, pissed her off so much she turned into her cat form and swatted her king halfway across the room. Then she offered me a biscuit.”

Harry immediately turned to him, holding out a hand. 

“No, you idiot,” Ron laughed, smacking his hand away. “I did not save any for you. Come on, let’s go get on the train. I need a nap.”

“It’s nine in the morning, Ronald, how do you already need a nap?”

Ron threw an arm over Hermione’s shoulder. “Chess takes a lot of mental power, you know.” He pulled at an errant strand of hair, chuckling as she shoved his hand away.

“Oh, how you manage to survive,” she drawled.

The early morning sun had just started to warm the air as they left the castle, dew still glistening on the grass around their path. 

A few first years chased each other around the crowd, laughing as one was yelling “I don’t want to be ‘it’ all summer!”

Rowan and Peregrine were just in front of them discussing American baseball and the upcoming Little League World Series, even making plans to host one another for various games.

Marcus and Oliver were leaning against the outer castle wall, looking around as they intertwined their fingers, waiting for the masses to leave before the graduates started their final trek toward the train, the boats bobbing on the lake in the distance to complete their time.

“Did I just see that awful hippogriff by Hagrid’s hut?” 

Draco shoved his way between Ron and Harry with an appalled scowl as they wove their way towards the waiting lines of carriages heading to the Hogsmeade station. “Oh, and here. My father wanted you to have this before we left school, just got it this morning.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and fell back to walk with Tracey and Daphne about some animated muggle film about lions Tracey was planning on dragging the Greengrass sisters to. 

Harry grinned at his cousin as he tucked the letter away. “There are many hippogriffs in the forest, and most of them enjoy Hagrid’s treats, Draco, you need to be more specific.” 

The Malfoy’s heir glare was eerily reminiscent of Narcissa. “The one that nearly took off my arm. Buckbeak, or whatever its name was.” 

“No, no, definitely not.” Harry flapped his hand dismissively. “He flew away, didn’t you hear? Probably halfway to some reserve on the continent by now. You probably saw Witherwings. From the same litter, they look remarkably similar.” 

“I’m sure,” Draco sneered. “How convenient for you.”

Harry shook his head. “Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that my new pet dog looks like our Lord Black.” 

Draco turned to face him, bewildered even as a snort finally broke through his mask. “What?” 

“Now, now, you simply must trust me, Draco, I’m an animal expert, remember?” Harry threw him the cheekiest grin as one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Fighting back a grin, Draco pushed his arm off. “Of course, cousin. I would never assume to question your authority on the matter.” He rolled his eyes and walked away, calling over his shoulder as he fled towards Pansy. “Oh, mother and father are going to insist on you and Cousin Sirius coming for dinner over the summer. Don’t disappoint.” 

“Fine, but make sure you put away the silver dining ware, if you’d please. Remus has a slight allergy.” 

Draco spun around. 

His eye twitched. 

“You look remarkably like Uncle Lucius when you do that.”

Harry laughed as he dodged out of the way of a stinging hex, Ron shouting in alarm. 

Instead of Harry, the hex landed on Daphne’s shoulder, and she shrieked. “Malfoy!”

“Sorry! Collateral damage!” he called back.

At the look she gave him, he gulped. 

And started to run.

Daphne, the Ice Queen of Slytherin, pureblood heiress with nary a hair ever out of place, snapped her wand out of her holster and set off after Draco in a dead sprint, not even blinking as mud splattered up her legs as he fled for the Hogwarts Express.

 

The train had barely left the station before they had shoved uncomfortably close into a too-small car.

Snacks were spread out, books swapped, gobstones pulled out. The door was kept ajar, as there were sure to be at least a dozen friends that would duck in to chat one last time before summer officially started. It was a comfortable quiet to the ride, Ron half-dozing against the window as the others murmured quietly.

Theo had chosen to sit on the floor, trying not to show how nervous he was about what would happen when the train stopped.

Neville knew.

He couldn’t hide anything from him, for some Merlin-damned reason.

But all the Gryffindor did was weave his fingers through his hair, a comforting rhythm that had Theo’s mind settle for once. 

Hermione was nose deep in a book, as usual. They had done what was becoming their annual book swap that morning, giving the other a stack of books, both reference and fictional, to read while they were apart that summer.

Hadrian was scanning whatever scroll Draco had given before Daphne chased him halfway to Hosgmeade. 

Theo wished he could act that carefree, darting after a friend with no concerns to how it would look.

His eyes fell back on Hadrian.

Hadrian, whose expression was a curious mix of satisfaction and indignation.

Theo’s throat seemed to tighten.

He wasn’t the only one to notice the sudden pressure that had begun to curl throughout the compartment. 

Neville’s hand tightened in his hair. 

Pansy and Hannah both paused in the middle of their gossip session about summer plans they had overheard. 

Hermione and Ron were clearly bracing themselves in order to not shift away from the righteous vindication brewing between them.

Hadrian put down the letter.

“Theo.” 

He looked up sharply, eyes immediately taking in the suddenly formal posture of Heir Potter-Black. 

“I… apologize for not giving you any news sooner. It wasn’t until this past week that things were finalized, and I just got the news myself.” He waved the parchment in his hand. 

Theo nodded slowly. “I understand.” He didn’t want to call him Hadrian. Not when something… important was happening. Not when he was acting like the future Grey lord he was learning to be. Not when he was speaking of matters that Theo had scarcely dreamed could be rectified.

“I was told that sending Dobby to poison him wasn’t the best way to start my break into the political world, so we planned for something else. For now.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Draco was kind enough to facilitate a conversation between myself and Uncle Lucius. You will officially be staying with the Malfoys this summer. Where you actually stay is up to you, I’m sure many of us will have open doors for the entire group. Sirius has already started working on guest rooms at Grimmauld.” 

“Lord Malfoy agreed? Surely my father-” 

Harry laughed, low and smug. “I have been assured by anyone who knows of the situation that Lucius is perfectly willing to risk your father’s anger to save himself from Narcissa’s.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not a perfect solution. But Gerard and Andi have agreed that the path of least resistance that keeps you safe both physically and politically is to simply get you out of the house, visiting family friends, until something permanent can be found.” His gaze grew hard as he met Theo’s eyes. “Your father has been notified. And after a few… conversations with Gerard, Sirius, and Narcissa, he has agreed. Amelia has also been notified and will take things up legally if need be.” 

Theo looked up from his spot on the floor of the car, leaning heavily against Neville’s legs, eyes watering. “I don’t have to go to Nott Manor?” 

Harry moved from his seat, kneeling in front of him, gaze still firm, but the hand on his shoulder was almost too gentle.

Theo wanted to argue, wanted to mumble something about not lowering himself for someone like a wayward Nott, but Harry just kept talking.

“Natalie has already gone over to collect your things and has them at her apartment off of Knockturn. We will have to have a few conversations about what choices you have moving forward, but I promise, none of them end with you ever setting foot in that place again. Not unless you want to, for whatever revenge-driven madness you need us to fulfill.” 

“I’ll do anything you ask, whatever it takes.” 

“The worst we’ve talked about so far is giving up your status as Nott Heir and becoming emancipated when you turn fifteen.” 

“I’ll do it.” 

Harry laughed again, brighter, and the entire car felt like it was suddenly easier to breathe. “We’ll make that choice when we have to.”

He stood, Ron easily catching him when the train lurched suddenly and he almost face-planted, suddenly back to being the clumsy wil-o-the-wisp that they all adored. Harry batted at Ron’s hands as he sat back down, Hermione grinning as she handed him a book to read for the rest of the trip.

Chatter started back up, everyone slightly more settled at the promise of safety for their friend.

Neville, however, watched his godbrother for a moment, and frowned. “How did Gerard manage that with Lord Nott over the space of a few months, when after three years you still have to deal with the Dursleys for a week?”

Suddenly the temperature dropped, almost as if a dementor was flying past. “No offense, Theo, but apparently it is because Albus doesn’t care that a student is in danger at home unless that student is me, and only in regards to the wards around my family’s house that, apparently, are of the utmost importance for any upcoming war.”

"None taken," Theo responded, voice stilted in his chest. "I'd rather trust you than Dumbledore, anyway."

It was silent for a few minutes, everyone slowly relaxing from the stilted pressure in the cabin, when someone nearly tripped right outside the doorway, followed by a high-pitched laugh.

Harry stood, about to go rescue whoever had gotten pushed, when Colin popped into sight, an embarrassed grin stretching over his face as Joceyln Wiseacre peered over his shoulder.

“Sorry, all, still learning how to walk on these blasted things.” He dug in the bag at his side for a moment. “Just wanted to give you lot these.” He pulled a muggle manilla envelope out, waving it in his hand. “My dad got these to me yesterday, just in time. Figured you might enjoy. Let me know if you need any more copies.” He handed the envelope to Luna, who was sitting closest to the door. “Have a happy summer!”

Jaws waved as well before they moved to the next car.

Luna opened the envelope upside down, wincing as the contents fell to the floor. “Oops.”

They all peered to see the collection of pictures now scattered around. 

Ginny sighed. “This is still kind of creepy.” She picked up a muggle picture of her and Pansy sitting on the edge of an upper floor, legs dangling as they watched the crowd below them.

“But they’re so good!” Hannah exclaimed, leaning forward to grab one of her in the middle of laughing, icing on her nose, as Cedric looked at a mistreated cupcake in his hand with sadness. “This is from back in like, October!”

“Aww,” Susan cooed over her shoulder. “The composition is pretty decent. He could sell some of these professionally, I’m sure.”

“It’s not just of us, though, right?” Theo asked, scanning the pile.

Harry shook his head. “He’s been taking pictures of practically everything and everyone all year. His dad printed them off for him and he got an upper year to cast gemino so he could give them to people. I’m sure he’s making the rounds to give them out before we hit London.”

Justin started to sort them. “We’ll have to do the same, using gemino. Some of these are of the lot of us.”

Hermione slammed her book closed. “Let me try, first!”

Ron grabbed her hand. “Do not try a spell for the first time in the middle of a very crowded room on things that we do not have backups of.”

“Colin surely has copies!”

“Until we know, no.”

She met his glare with one of her own.

The temperature started to rise slightly.

“Hermione, do you think you could help me learn some French this summer?” Harry poked her thigh with his foot.

She barely looked away. “If you’d like. I can even try to find an introductory book when we meet up with Draco in Marseilles.”

“Great. I think Sirius knows some as well, the Blacks have some holdings in Lyon.” He poked her again until she turned away from Ron with a pout.

“So you’re for sure going to your godfather’s house this summer?” Hannah asked, pouting from where Justin was playing with her hair. “Uncle Tom will be devastated.”

Harry gave her a grin. “Sirius hasn’t officially offered, but Remus mentioned they were setting up my room, so I’m assuming. But don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be in and out of the Alley as much as I usually am.”

“Good. Though I have to warn you, I’m sure there will be plenty of people gossiping about everything, Lord Black suddenly gone from convict on the loose to savior of the boy-who-lived.”

His grin fell abruptly. “Ugh, I hate being important.”

“Speaking of being important,” Susan began, “we need to figure out what we’re telling people about… well, everything.”

“Susan, please,” he frowned. “I haven’t even had time to talk to Gerard about this yet.”

“I’m just saying. Like Hannah said, there are going to be a lot of people watching you the next year, you and Lord Black. He’s an unknown variable in the Wizengamot, and there’s still loads of speculation about what happened. How Pettigrew got on the grounds, how he’s been missing for a dozen years without anyone being the wiser about a Death Eater in their midst-”

“Merlin’s tits,” Ron exclaimed, face pale as he smacked a hand over his mouth.

The entire cabin stopped to look at him in various degrees of concern. 

“I hadn’t even thought to tell Mum and Da about Scabbers.”

They all relaxed, even as he started to scrub his hands through his hair.

“I mean, at Easter, we didn’t truly know, and know he’s on the run and killed people and-” 

“They already know, Ronald.” They all looked to the door, where Percy stood with a frown. “I assumed you would be in a panic about it, and he was with me as well, so I took the liberty of handling it. I wrote to Madam Bones and she visited them in person to explain everything and put a few new wards on the house. You’ll still have to confirm your health, but-” He looked down in shock as Ron was suddenly standing in front of him, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest. It took him a second, but soon enough he brought his little brother, no matter how tall he was getting, into a firm hug.

The others turned away, giving the two a moment.

Hermione pulled her gaze away to look back at Harry. “A lot of our friends are graduating, now. Going to be in the real world. It could be a good opportunity to gather information outside of the castle. We can ask Flick what she’s been doing and… extrapolate.”

“What, you think Marcus is going to be a mastermind spy for us?” He snorted.

“No, but between him, and Oliver Wood, and all three of the Averys-”

“We barely know Ty and Lee-”

“Not to mention Percy here, who will undoubtedly be in the same intern program as Typhon-”

Percy frowned. “How did you know I was applying for an internship at the Ministry?”

The entire cabin looked at him, unimpressed.

Ron finally pulled back, patting his brother on the shoulder. “We know you, Perce. Of course you’re going into the Ministry. Just let Harry and Susan know if they need to pull strings.”

The older Weasley flushed and shook his head as he backed out. “No need, enjoy your ride.”

Harry turned to Ron as he settled back down between Hermione and the window. “You’ll let me pull strings for Percy but not for you?”

“No, Harry, I don’t need you to ask the organizers of the chess tournament to make it a month earlier so I can join before school starts back. That’s completely different.”

Before Harry could argue, there was a sharp knock on the threshold. “Potter-Black, a moment of your time?” 

He looked up with a wide grin. “Greengrass. A pleasure. I take it my cousin made it to the train at least mostly intact?” 

She sneered. “Mostly.” She moved into the compartment to thrust a scroll towards him. “My father sends his regards.” 

A few of the Heralds straightened, Neville looking between them with wide eyes.

“I still hate you for disrupting the entire structure of our house, and for being an absolutely terrible influence on my sister, but you should read this and then give it to your Wizengamot proxy.” 

Harry shot her a wink as she disappeared back into the corridor, laughing when she threw her middle finger up over her shoulder. He leaned forward suddenly with a frown. “Oh, and don’t blame Tori on me! She was like that well before coming to school!”

 

The crowd was already starting to disperse by the time they wove their way off the train, giving Harry the opportunity to see Marcus chatting with a figure he hadn’t seen since a pit stop to Flourish & Blotts over Eostre. 

The figure that immediately saw him and gave him the most unimpressed look he’d gotten since he tried to talk Severus into letting him make lemon drops in the potions lab.

He gave Flick a guilty grin. 

“Dementors, secret Death Eaters? C’mon, kid, you gotta stop trying to give me a heart attack from hundreds of miles away.” 

“I’m going to kill Terry,” he responded, his smile turning falsely sweet as he let her wrap him in a massive hug.

“Don’t bother, it was Parkinson.” 

He turned to shoot Pansy a betrayed look, eyes wide and hurt. “You told on me?” 

She shrugged as she watched Flick try to get his attention back. “Higgs has better gossip than you do. You’ll never believe who Zabini’s mother has been slinking around with behind husband number five’s back.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “So the rumors about her are true?” 

She shrugged. “True enough to keep an eye on what she’s doing. At least while she’s still based in the UK. I won’t care nearly as much if she disappears back to Italy.” 

Harry scoffed as he ducked away from Flick’s pestering questions. “Because that’s a fantastic way to live, Pans, only caring about what affects you directly.” 

The smile she gave him was sharp and smug. “There’s a reason I’m not in yellow, Potter-Black, other than it does horrible things to my complexion.” 

Flick shoved her way between them. “No politics on the first day of break. Talk about more important things. When are you bringing your godfather back to the store this summer?” She leaned into him, using him to balance herself as she looked further down the station to see Sirius walking their way with Molly and Arthur, the Grangers just behind them, looking around with an awe they doubted would ever fade.

He groaned. “Felicity Higgs, stop ogling my guardian, he’s very much taken.” 

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t insanely good looking, and he’s always down for a little flirt.” 

She grinned. 

He frowned. 

“He’s twice your age.”

“I fail to see your point.”  

“My point is I’m not about to start calling you mommy so don’t even bother.”

She burst into laughter, leaning against him heavily. “Merlin, sprog, you grew claws this year!”

Harry met Sirius’s eyes, who had stopped just a few feet away. “Not as nice of claws as either of my godfathers’,” he responded.

Sirius shot him a wink. “You’ll get there.”

Suddenly Harry’s grin fell. “Wait, really?” He moved to grab Sirius’s arm. “Can I learn?”

“We’ll see,” Sirius replied, smirking at Flick’s confused expression. “We might get you started this summer and do the ritual next year.”

Harry started bobbing around his godfather like a kid on a sugar rush, taking the time to hug the various adults that were coming to say hello. 

Sirius watched on with a slight smile, feeling lighter than he had since a small house in Godric’s Hallow, when this same small beam of joy had learned how to walk in the first place.

It took the better part of an hour for their assorted family to start leaving the station.

The Grangers had begged off early, having a dinner with Emma’s parents that night that required a few hours travel. They swore they'd have Hermione write for any plans of a get-together.

Molly had Sirius promising that they would come round for the day in a week or two to catch up and have dinner before any holidays.

Some of the other Heralds passed by, introducing parents and cousins and siblings to their friends before disappearing.

Other students would simply nod as they passed, some even bowing when they realized Lord Black stood among them in black jeans and a muggle tank top, showing the Azkaban tattoo and the scattering of scars and other ink that covered his arms.

Soon, it was just the two of them, an awkward silence falling as they walked along.

“So, Harry, I was wondering…”

He looked up, frowning at the sight of his usual-suave godfather hesitating. “Yeah?”

The man sighed, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. “I know you usually stay with your friends after your week in Durzkaban. And that’s fine!” He threw his hands up wildly. “But maybe you’d want to, for the most part, stay with me?”

Harry laughed slightly, almost a disbelieving scoff. “Sirius, you told me you wanted to take me in back before Yule. Why are you acting like I’ll say no?”

“Just because I said something and assumed you agreed is not taciturn permission to kidnap you from your usual routines,” he rattled off.

“Mindhealer?” Harry’s smile was soft.

Sirius flushed. “Shut up.”

“Yes, Lord Black, I would love for you to let me come pick out my room at Grimmauld. I've got the perfect sign to go on it. Even if there’s far too much fur for comfort, between you and Remus.”

“Alright, brat,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “I was trying to create a bonding moment to celebrate the fact we get to fix our little family, but if you’re going to be like that-”

“Says the marauder-”

“Then we can forget about it and I’ll just let you run rampant around the Alley all summer.”

Harry gave Sirius a winning grin. “I can only assume my pet dog would be joining me?”

Sirius reached out to ruffle his hair. “As much as you’ll let me, kid. And that’s a promise.”

They walked towards the muggle entrance of the station, where the bike Sirius had reclaimed from Hagrid was parked. Sirius’s arm moved to settle on his shoulders.

Sirius was going to drop him off, scare the living daylights out of Vernon, and then it was only one week before Harry would be convincing his godfather that they needed to figure out how to get a VHS player and a tellie into Grimmauld as the ultimate middle finger to Walburga Black’s haunting memory.

The sun was shining as they exited, the sounds of the city picking up as Harry smiled to himself.

“Hey, Sirius?”

“Yeah, prongslet?”

“Can we go to India at some point? I’ve gotten quite good at Hindi.”

Notes:

usual spiel, not my og peeps/plot, even as they play on the end of my string
hopefully this year was as enjoyable as the last two!
expect the photo chapter in the next day or so, and then i'll be barricading myself in my office to write year four near furiously.
definitely won't be playing pokemon as i start watching Critical Role's new campaign.
because i'll be back on webkinz like it's 2005.
poteatthegeek everywhere you care to look.
appreciate comments, likes, bookmarks, shares, and good vibes sent my way through the multiverse.
much love to everyone who reads this. :)

Chapter 23: BONUS MATERIAL

Summary:

The usual collection of photos taken in the '93-'94 school year and the summer preceding it.

Notes:

getting this year completely finished so i can totally focus on year 4
totally
even though dropout's new dimension 20 season starts this week
totally
enjoy :)

• Harry half under the cloak, only his head sticking out, in the middle of the Central Hall (06 May, 1994; The fact no one blinked twice at this goes to show either how insane or powerful this scrawny brat is. -Terry)
• Crookshanks sprawled along Draco’s side in the common room (11 Mar, 1994; No one knows why he likes Malfoy. No one, including Malfoy, likes this fact. -Ron)
• Harry taking a selfie in the mirror as Hermione tries to grab the camera (19 Sept, 1993; Birthday girl not thrilled with getting her picture taken. Oh well. -Harry)
• The Patil twins bracketing Harry as they walk out of the Great Hall (07 Feb, 1994; Now that he’s decent in Hindi, they check in at least once a week. -Anthony)
• Pansy reenacting Divination with Anthony while the rest of the Heralds laugh around them (12 Nov, 1993; So glad Luna talked us out of this class, even if the entertainment value is so high. -Hermione)
• Weasleys in Egypt, July 1993 
• Percy in the pyramid, face unamused but unsurprised as Bill lets him out, the twins in the background getting scolded by Molly
• Arthur and Molly being cute, wrapped around each other as they walk around a market
• Bill hugging Harry and Hermione, all three grinning, Hermione reaching for Bill’s long hair while Harry pokes one of his multiple piercings
• Ron with Scabbers in the middle of the sand (this picture was soon ripped to shreds and burned in a small ritual of healing from betrayal in the backyard of the Burrow)
• Harry with a dinosaur plush that Dan had bought him after they went to rewatch Jurassic Park (21 Aug, 1993; If he tries to dress like Ian Malcolm for Halloween, I’m never talking to him or my father again. -Hermione)
• Harry and Newt chatting in Hagrid’s hut, Fang underfoot (23 Mar, 1994; If Harry didn’t have Ron and Hermione, I’d believe he’d escape to America and stalk Newt until he was adopted just like all the other creatures. -Luna)
• Draco standing over Greg and Vince, who were laughing as they wrestled on the floor (31 Oct, 1993; They may be pureblood heirs, but only Draco acts like it, especially when the last mince pie is on the line. -Ginny)
• Snape smirking at Remus telling some story, arms wide. The look on his face is almost… fond (01 Mar, 1994; Proof that Snape has emotion other than disdain. Still hard to believe. -Theo)
• Hermione with a book floating in front of her at the breakfast table, shoving food in her mouth (08 Jun, 1994; Cramming for finals and she can’t even stop reading to chew. Can’t call me out anymore, that’s for sure. -Ron)
• Hermione, Padma, and Anthony huddled over a notebook while a few of the others behind them had wands out with curious expressions. (02 Dec, 1993; Apparently, experiments require notation. We’ll let the Ravenclaws handle that while we just blow shit up. -Susan)
• Harry in the Hogwarts kitchen, covered in flour, elves laughing around him (02 Nov, 1993; He finally got Tweak to let him bake. Ten minutes later, the kitchens had to stop production to clean up his mess. (It still tasted delicious.) -Fred)
• Flick almost perpendicular to the ground as she watches Harry and Sirius leave Flourish & Blotts. (12 Apr, 1994; Hadrian’s going to hate that Flick thinks Lord Black is hot… But she’s right. -Marcus)
• Percy looking at a smirking Tonks with a confused expression (30 Jun, 1993; he doesn’t seem to realize what flirting looks like, even with a girlfriend -Ron)
• Oliver and Percy arguing as Marcus and Penelope look on with bemused expressions. (04 Feb, 1994; Oliver got a little too excited about one of the knockout games for the World Cup. Percy didn’t appreciate the forced study break. -George)
• Sirius leaning against a wall, waiting for Harry to show up, muggle cigarette dangling from his ringed fingers (04 Apr, 1994; Lord Black, one of the most politically powerful men in the wixen world, looking like a muggle punk rock star. -Susan)
• Rowan in the middle of a group of upperclass Slytherins with a conjured blackboard with a baseball diamond drawn on it, clearly explaining the game as they wore their Red Sox cap (07 May, 1994; If this ends with us having a pick-up league, I’m leaving the wixen world. -Hermione)
• Harry riding Bai around the chamber (05 Nov, 1993; No one outside of the Heralds will ever see this photo for the safety of multiple people. -Neville)
• Draco and Luna walking down a dark corridor, their white hair gleaming. (06 Mar, 1994; If only wix knew about angels, they’d think these two had divinity in their blood. -Hermione)
• Boy-Who-Slept:
• Curled up in the middle of Bai’s coils as she napped
• On Ron’s shoulder in the back of the Astronomy tower, night sky clear behind them
• Crooks on his back in the common room, both clearly asleep as firelight flickered nearby
• Somehow asleep in a chair with Ron and Hermione arguing over him, mouth agape as his head was tilted against the back of the chair
• Back on the floor, legs on the couch in the Nook, head underneath the coffee table covered in study notes
• Sitting on a flight of stairs, clearly waiting for someone, nodding off as he leaned against the railing
• Sprawled across an armchair in Hagrid’s hut, Atticus the bowtruckle visible in his hair, Fang with his head under Harry’s hand, also asleep

Notes:

poteatthegeek if you care to look anywhere
feel free to yell at me on tumblr if it takes too long for year 4 to happen
or yell happy shit, too, i'll read both :)

Notes:

adhd is a curse but i can only hope that this year is as entertaining as the last two.
thanks for joining me on yet another leg of this journey!
find me at poteatthegeek everywhere that matters, even if i don't interact with that shit as often as i should.
enjoy, and see you around! :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of The Silver Trio