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Chapter Text

It was only a few days before the Christmas break, but Harry was counting every minute before he would be able to get some peace and quiet away from all the muttering and snide remarks people kept throwing at him in the corridors and classes. He was spending the afternoon hidden away in a small alcove somewhere in the dungeons, having left the Gryffindor common room to get away from all the stares. Ron and Hermione had both been finishing their Potions essays, and he could tell that, as much as they denied it, they were finding the attention Harry’s presence inevitably brought nowadays very distracting.

He pulled the essay out now, hoping to finish it off in peaceful solitude when he heard footsteps, preceded by a head of blonde hair which peeked around the tapestry separating the alcove from the corridor. He stood up abruptly, reaching into his pocket for his wand.

“Malfoy,” he spat. “Following me now, are you?” Malfoy’s expression schooled itself into a sneer.

“Shut up Potter. Don’t know why I bothered. This was a stupid idea anyway.” He glared at Harry, who looked back, confused.

“Bothered with what?” This just made Malfoy glare at him harder.

“I forgot how thick you are,” he sneered. “Should’ve realised you probably wouldn’t even be able to give me an answer.” Harry was starting to get angry again now. This whole situation was bizarre. If Malfoy wanted to curse him, he should’ve just gotten on with it.

“Piss of Malfoy. You’re the one who’s stalking me so either tell me why you’re here or leave me alone. I came here to get some quiet.” He levelled Malfoy with an angry glare, vowing to himself not to move his eyes away until he left. The blonde met his gaze.

“Fine,” Malfoy spat, looking like it was taking all his willpower not to either turn on his heel or hex Harry’s face off. He took a breath. “I want to know whether you’re really a Parselmouth.” Whatever Harry had expected, it wasn’t that. He momentarily forgot his anger in lieu of confusion.

“What? That’s what you want to know? You were stood right there Malfoy, of course, I’m a bloody Parselmouth. I’m sure you were close enough to hear me telling it not to attack Justin in some sort of weird snake language,” Harry said. Malfoy scoffed.

“That’s what you said to it? Ever the saint aren’t you scar head. Would have been much more entertaining if you’d let the snake bite the mudblood’s head off don’t you think?” Harry had his wand out in an instant, pressed into Malfoy’s nose.

“Say that word again and I’ll-”

“What? Hit me with another tickling jinx?” Harry was fuming with rage now, unable to reply. With what looked like a great effort, Malfoy sighed. “Fine,” Malfoy hissed, before taking a deep breath. “Fine. I won’t say it again. Happy? But I’ll have you know; this is only because I need more information.” Harry stood there, stunned. Malfoy? Basically, apologising? Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but still. For Malfoy, that statement seemed like a declaration begging forgiveness of one’s greatest sins. “For heaven’s sake lower your wand Potter I’m not about to attack you.”

Dubiously, Harry lowered his wand so that it was pointed at Malfoy’s stomach instead of his face, but he still gripped it as though he meant to strangle it.

“Fine,” Harry spat eventually. “What.” The Slytherin sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that. Maybe an anger management technique for his present circumstance of having to speak to Harry. Harry had to admit to relating to him there.

“Okay, yes, I know you’re a Parselmouth. It was, as you imply, obvious to everyone watching. 10 points to Gryffindor for upholding your house’s knack for a complete lack of subtlety in absolutely everything. What I want to know, is how the hell you, Harry ‘boy who lived’ Potter, model Gryffindor, can talk to snakes, and whether you’re really the heir of Slytherin, as everyone’s been saying.”

“If I’m the Heir of Slytherin?” Harry retorted incredulously. “You’re the bloody heir of Slytherin Malfoy come off it.” Malfoy just rolled his eyes.

“Potter, if I was the heir of Slytherin I’d have been much more proficient at killing mud- fine muggle-borns. Not to mention you’d have probably been the first person dead.”

“Wow. thanks,” Harry glared.

“Pleasure,” Malfoy retorted quickly. “Why the hell would I be here talking to you if I was the heir. I’m here trying to find out who the heir is.”
“What, so you can help them?” Harry said. Malfoy just rolled his eyes again and sighed.

“No,” Malfoy said as though he were speaking to a particularly incompetent child. “I don’t want the school to close, do I? I mean really. Setting a monster loose in Hogwarts seems like an awfully inefficient and unreliable way to go about getting rid of muggle-borns. Any pureblood would have a high chance of getting caught up in the attack. Look at what happened to that Gryffindor ghost. Not to mention I’m just as curious about who the heir is as much as everyone else is. It’s not every day that you meet a descendant of one of the four founders.”

“Well, it’s not me! Why would I even want to attack muggle-borns!” Harry shouted.

“I. Know,” Malfoy bit, seeming to find it difficult not to yell back. “Everyone in this school is delusional if they think ‘saint potter’ is the one attacking muggle-borns. It’s ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes again. “But if the monster of Slytherin can only be controlled by the heir, it’s probably because it’s controlled by Parseltongue. You know… famously Slytherin quality, very rare, probably doesn’t exist in any other pureblood bloodlines. Well, except maybe your’s now.”

Harry blinked. “So, you think that I could help find out who the heir is or find and control the monster or something?”

“Ah! Finally! Glad to know you’re not a complete idiot. Yes. That, or maybe the Potters really are descended from Slytherin, and you opened the chamber by accident, in which case you could probably close it again.”

“What!” Harry sputtered indignantly. “I would never!” Malfoy just shrugged. “Wait,” Harry said after a moment. “How do you know the school would be closed?” Malfoy shrugged again.

“My father told me, didn’t he. When the chamber was last opened fifty years ago. The school almost got shut down. Won’t tell me much more than that though, or at least, won’t talk to my mother about it when he doesn’t know I’m listening much more than that,” he said bitterly.

“But why do you even care that much if the school is closed? You can just go home to mummy and daddy,” Harry shot. Malfoy, to Harry’s shock, flinched.

“Don’t you dare talk about my family Potter.” Malfoy’s voice was dangerously low. Harry stepped back in shock, staring at Malfoy. He realised suddenly that Malfoy was not going home for the holidays. He hadn’t considered that there might be a reason for that, he’d just been happy that he, Ron, and Hermione would have this opportunity to interrogate him. Had he judged Malfoy too quickly on the reality of his home life?

“Um, uh, okay, um sorry,” Harry stuttered. This just made Malfoy glare harder.

“Ugh,” he said in a clearly disgusted tone. “Don’t apologise to me. It’s unnatural.” Harry, to his own shock, started laughing.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to compose himself. “No, yeah that was unnatural. You’re right. Very weird.” Malfoy was looking at him now as though he was incredibly disturbed. He shook his head, his anger seemingly forgotten after the shock of Harry’s bout of hysteria.

“What I’m asking for,” Malfoy went on eventually, still looking apprehensively at Harry, “is a sort of truce here. I’ll help you find out why you can speak Parseltongue, and your family history and whatever to see if you’re descended from Slytherin. In return, you’re going to cooperate with me and not get in my way. And maybe, we can also figure out what the monster is and use your Parseltounge to find it or the chamber or something. Either way, I’m guessing you don’t want Hogwarts to close as much as I do.”

Harry looked at Malfoy. What the hell was he playing at? It all seemed very well thought out and logical but the idea of sharing a common goal with Draco Malfoy was an idea that Harry wasn’t sure he could truly accept. Part of him still wondered if this was just some ploy for Malfoy to embarrass or hurt him. But, he considered, if that was the case, surely Malfoy would have hurt him already?

“How do I know you’re not just tricking me or something?” Harry said eventually. Malfoy just rolled his eyes. He seemed to do a lot of that. It was odd how condescending he could be even while not trying to insult you.

“Potter, if you don’t want my help, fine. I can just do the research on my own. But enjoy the rest of your life in the muggle world once the school closes because of you.” Harry considered him. Malfoy had already proved that he knew, or at least suspected, much more than Hermione or Ron had so far. He was probably Harry’s best chance of finding out the truth, with his extensive knowledge of pureblood wizarding history and his family’s inside information.

And, if Malfoy was spending all his time researching with Harry, then even if he was the Heir of Slytherin, he would hardly have time to attack anyone. Even if he did find time, this would be the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on him. This was what he, Ron and Hermione had always wanted, wasn’t it? The whole reason they’d been brewing Polyjuice? Information from Draco Malfoy on the heir of Slytherin.

“Alright,” Harry said.

“Alright, what?”

“I agree to the truce or whatever. I’ll help research and figure out how to close the chamber. But, for the record, I still hate you.”

“Right back at you Potter,” Malfoy sniped. “Believe me, if literally, anyone else in this school spoke Parseltounge I would ask them instead.” Harry huffed.

“Okay, and what about Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked. Malfoy pulled a disgusted face.

“What about Weasel and the mu- okay fine, Granger?” Harry glared at him.

“Shut up about my friends, would you? Or I’ll walk away right now.”

“Fine,” Draco spat. “About your ‘friends’. Obviously, they can’t know. This is a secret arrangement. I’m already resigning myself to your company, and I don’t trust them to keep a secret.”

“Why does this have to be a secret?” Harry asked. Malfoy rolled his eyes again and sighed.

“You really are thick aren’t you, Potter. How do you think my father would react if news got back to him that I was even on speaking terms with you, let alone a Weasley and a muggle-born?” Harry studied him, racking his brain for possible ulterior motives or lies. He felt there always had to be a secret angle with Malfoy. Eventually, he relented.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. So does that mean I’m still free to hex you in the corridors?” Malfoy actually let out a short laugh at that. The sound of genuine, non-mocking laughter from Malfoy felt foreign and unnatural to Harry.

“Yeah, alright Potter, you can hex me. But you’re not allowed to back out of the arrangement if I throw a couple of curses back at you, nor if Professor Snape takes one hundred points from Gryffindor in my defence. Godson privileges and everything.” Harry’s mouth fell open at that.

“Godson?! Snape is your godfather?” Harry exclaimed. Malfoy scoffed at him and folded his arms.

“Merlin, I thought that was common knowledge. Yes, Potter, there’s more of a reason why I’m his favourite student beyond just my incredible potions abilities.”

“Okay fine, fine,” Harry said dismissively. “How’s this going to work then? This arrangement?”

“We can start once classes end. Meet me after breakfast the first day of break in the empty transfiguration classroom on the fifth floor,” Malfoy said promptly.

“Uh, okay then,” Harry started, still a little taken aback and confused. Malfoy just nodded and turned on his heel, stalking away down the corridor. Harry just stared dumbly at his receding figure. That had got to be one of the strangest conversations he’d ever had. His head with still reeling with all the new information he’d learned and trying to fit this somewhat new side of Malfoy into his shaken worldview.

Eventually, he managed to make his way back to where he’d been sitting in the alcove, but his potions essay just lay there unfinished, the tip of his quill poised above the parchment as he tried to mull through everything that had just happened, and what the hell he was supposed to make of it.

After almost twenty minutes of this, he decided to just go back to the common room. Maybe get an early night. He packed up his things and started on his way. It was only then, once he’d begun walking that he realised he hadn’t thought of what on earth he would tell Ron and Hermione. Malfoy had told him not to tell them, and, while he still didn’t trust Malfoy, the boy probably had a good idea in keeping the arrangement secret.

What would he tell them anyway? They probably wouldn’t believe him if he told the truth, and if Malfoy found out that he had told them, he’d be sure to end the arrangement. As much as Harry didn’t want to spend time with the blonde, he was not so stupid as to not see that it was a very valuable opportunity, both in terms of everything that was happening with the Chamber and in discovering why he could speak Parseltongue. Learning that he wasn’t the heir of Slytherin would be a nice relief. Or maybe he was the heir and that would make everything worse. Either way, he wanted to know.

Eventually, he decided it would probably be safer not to tell them. He’d just have to think of an excuse as to why he wasn’t helping them brew Polyjuice that morning.

---

A couple more days of classes passed in surprising normality. Despite his and Malfoy’s odd conversation, it was all too easy to fall back into their usual rivalry once other people were around. Neither held back on insults and threatened jinxes between classes. It made Harry almost think he’d just imagined their arrangement from the other day. But then, he supposed, it’s not like they’d agreed to be friends or made any sort of move towards public civility. He still strongly disliked the boy. Time spent studying alone with Malfoy was probably going to be a special kind of torture that he’d only endure for the sake of the school and for his own curiosity.

Although, he reminded himself, there were moments in that conversation in the alcove that hadn’t been too bad. Perhaps Malfoy wasn’t all as bad as he’d thought. It would have certainly seemed out of character to Harry a week ago for Malfoy to agree not to use the word ‘mudblood’. Well… maybe. He had only agreed for the sake of Harry’s cooperation.

The morning of the first day of Christmas break dawned. Harry still hadn’t really thought of a good explanation for his absence. He decided it would probably just be easier to slip out early in the morning under the cloak before Ron woke up and figure out an excuse when they saw him at lunch. He made his way to the classroom Malfoy had specified, gripping his wand in his pocket and still vaguely suspicious that he might be walking right into some sort of trap.

A few corridors away he pulled off the cloak and made his way to the door, slipping quietly inside. Malfoy wasn’t there yet, which, to Harry, was a relief. It meant he probably didn’t have a trap planned, and if he did, Harry would have likely foiled his preparations.

He waited anxiously on the edge of a desk, half-heartedly practising his transfiguration work by repeatedly turning an inkwell into a small black rat and back again. The problem was, that the rat kept running away once it had appeared, and Harry had to keep immobilizing it before casting finite incantatem to turn it back into an inkwell. It was getting harder to aim as the inkwell gradually made its way further from the desk each time it was turned into a rat.

Eventually, the door opened and in strolled Draco Malfoy, weighed down by a large bag of books over his shoulder and another pile in his arms. He strolled over quickly and unceremoniously dumped them onto the desk Harry was sitting on. One of the larger books hit Harry’s knee in its descent.

“Ow!” Harry exclaimed indignantly, glaring at Malfoy. Malfoy just rolled his eyes.
“You’re such a baby Potter get over it.” Harry stood up, still glaring, but after Malfoy failed to return his gaze, he resigned himself to helping spread the books out over the desk so that the titles were visible.

“What’s all this then?” he asked.

“Our research material, obviously,” Malfoy returned. “Thought you wanted to know why you’re a Parseltongue. The best way to find that out is a bit of good old pureblood wizarding history.” Harry looked down at the titles of the books before them: ‘The Sacred 28’, ‘Medieval wizarding family history’, ‘Pureblood families of India’, with many more similar books. Harry picked up ‘Pureblood families of India’, examining the contents page.

“I didn’t know the Potters were from India,” Harry said, surprised. The Dursleys had always told him his skin was just a little more tanned than normal. Just another one of his oddities like his hair or his scar. While Harry suspected he probably wasn’t all white, no one had ever mentioned what his family heritage was.

Malfoy just hummed in response, clearly distracted by the large book he was quickly skimming. “Huh? Oh. Yeah. The original Potter family is from Great Britain, but I think the heir married into a well-established Indian pureblood family sometime in the nineteenth century. It’s why they’re not in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Relations between The Ministry and the Bureau of Wizarding India weren’t very good during the 1930s. Wait, did you say you didn’t know you’re Indian?” Malfoy looked up, staring bemusedly at Harry. Harry shrugged.

“I grew up with muggles. No one’s ever told me anything about my family history. I didn’t even know I was a wizard until I was eleven.” Malfoy gaped at him.

“What?” he gasped. “But the Potters are one of the most ancient and historically influential wizarding lines in history! That must be some sort of crime. There would be so many family rituals and traditions that you’d be expected to uphold as the head of the family, even as an underage wizard.” Harry just shrugged again, feeling a little uncomfortable now under Malfoy’s piercing gaze.

“Well, I didn’t know that did I,” Harry said, a little indignantly. Had he not just told Malfoy he’d basically grown up muggle-born? It shouldn’t come as such a shock. Malfoy just continued as though Harry hadn’t spoken.

“I mean, I knew you grew up with muggles but that’s just appalling! Wizarding family traditions are sacred. You need to uphold them, or your family magics deteriorate.” Harry must have had a truly awful expression pass across his face at that because Malfoy tried to condone him in his next words.

“No not like your magic stops working or anything,” he said hurriedly, “just that your mental stability or physical health can deteriorate as a result of the family magics straining you. In families as old as mine or yours’s, the build-up of different family magics can be a lot for you to handle. It’s why childbirth can be a problem for pureblood wizards. We have magical traditions to counteract the strain.” Harry had absolutely no idea what to make of that.

“But what about muggle-borns?” He asked. “Are they less powerful or something?”
“No nothing like that. Although that’s kind of the argument purebloods use to excuse all the extremist blood purity stuff.” Harry looked at him in shock.

“What, you don’t believe in all that?”

“No- well- I’m not sure. This isn’t relevant right now. What I’m trying to say is that the family magics don’t affect your ability to do wand magic or the power of wand magic. It’s a very old, very powerful, and very unstable type of magic. It increases the strength of your emotion-driven magic, like the accidental stuff you do when you’re a kid. Purebloods often have more instances of accidental magic from a younger age because of it. It also strengthens wandless magic, though that is still very difficult regardless. It’s a bit of a mysterious branch but it doesn’t increase or decrease your magical power, just makes your magic more flexible and thus more easily channelled into less controlled types of magic.”

“Right,” Harry said slowly. He still was very confused. This sounded like the sort of thing he ought to have been told about. Why was it that Draco Malfoy was the first person who had even mentioned it to him? “Why hasn’t anyone told me about this before?” Malfoy shrugged, still looking slightly perturbed.

“Well, it’s not really something that’s discussed outside of families. Pureblood wizards just take care of it themselves since there’s no reason to discuss it with anyone else. Muggleborns wouldn’t have any reason to know about it, and a lot of families closely guard the specifics of their traditions. I can’t believe no one would have told you about this!” Harry sat down on a chair, feeling a little light-headed.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “No, yeah I don’t know either.” He reached for the book on Indian wizarding traditions and sighed, trying to breathe out some of the overwhelming anxiety and confusion he was feeling. “Well, next session you can bring books on family magics and traditions. One thing at a time. I’m going to start looking through this book to see if I can find references to Parseltongue. What’s the name of the Indian family the Potters married into?”

“Oh, um I think they were the Dundubha family,” he said vaguely, still staring at Harry with a distracted and disturbed expression.

“Right,” Harry replied, opening the book to its contents page and searching for the name. Eventually, Malfoy seemed to snap out of his trance, reaching for another book on the desk and opening it.

After several hours, the pair had acquired a large stack of notes that very extensively mapped the Potter family tree back to the seventeenth century, Harry mapping much of the Indian side, while Malfoy mapped the British one. Harry rubbed his tired eyes, turned yet another page in his and gasped.

“I found something!” he yelled. Malfoy started, dropping his book.

“Salazar, keep it down Potter. This is supposed to be a peaceful work environment in which neither of us has to verbally interact beyond the bare minimum.” He scowled at Harry. Harry was too excited to care and ignored him. He ran his finger along the page and recited.

“Nagarjun Dundubha, the heir of house Dundubha in the mid-sixteenth century was renowned across the nation for his snake charming performances. He travelled the country for much of his life, performing for the wealthy and noble, and earning a small fortune for his efforts. The snake charming practice was passed on to his children for many generations, although the ability was said to have skipped generations more and more frequently as time passed. The last known snake charmer in the Dundubha line was Chandika Dundubha who lived from 1821 until 1894.” Harry finished reading and looked up.

“Do you think that the snake charming they refer to could be Parseltongue? If it’s such a rare ability, it might have been referred to differently in other parts of the world, and been translated as such,” Harry said excitedly, grinning. Draco reached over and snatched the book from him, eyes flicking over the page.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it could be.”

---

As Harry left the classroom to head for lunch, he was still buzzing with the thrill of all his new knowledge. He felt like his entire world had shifted in a couple of hours. He was so distracted that he completely forgot about his suspicious absence this morning, and that he had been meaning to come up with an excuse for it.

He slid onto the bench at the Gryffindor table next to Ron, still mulling over the Parseltounge revelation.

“Where the hell have you been?” Ron said, turning to him. That snapped Harry out of his daze. He looked up to find Hermione also staring intently at him from across the table.

“Huh?” he said.

“Mate,” Ron said. “Where have you been all morning? Hermione and I have been working on the potion without you.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his brain finally catching up. “Oh, um sorry yeah, I wanted to visit Hagrid. Lost track of time.” They both eyed him suspiciously but didn’t say anything. “How’s the potion?” he said eventually, sensing the uncomfortable energy. Hermione lit up at that.

“Really good!” she said. “It’ll be ready in about a day.” Harry nodded, smiling. He had sort of forgotten about the whole plan to interrogate Malfoy thing. It seemed very pointless now, but it wasn’t like he had an explanation to tell Ron and Hermione as to why he could get as much information out of Malfoy as he needed without needing to disguise himself as another Slytherin.

He decided he’d have to just go along with whatever Hermione had planned.

Chapter Text

The Polyjuice plan basically went as well as Harry had expected; that being he’d not found out anything Malfoy had not already told him, and they’d almost been caught. The only saving grace was that he now at least knew Malfoy hadn’t been lying – not that he’d thought of a reason Malfoy would have for lying in the first place.

The downside, or, he supposed, upside of the encounter was that any hope he’d had of Malfoy magically rethinking his pure-blood supremacist beliefs was squashed. He was such an idiot for even questioning it in the first place. He was still fuming about it hours later in the common room, Malfoy’s comments about Ron and Hermione and Mr Weasley ringing through his head.

“Mate,” Ron said, looking concerned. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Harry bit out. Ron looked at him sceptically.

“I’m worried about Hermione too you know. She’ll be alright don’t worry.” Harry just nodded, not bothered to correct Ron about the real reason he was upset. After several minutes of repeatedly reading and re-reading “The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards was a European wizarding organisation” he relented and closed the book. He sighed.

“Alright, I’m going to bed,” Harry said, packing his things away. Ron looked up.

“Oh okay, I’ll be up in a minute.” Harry just nodded again stiffly and headed for the dorm. He knew he was being a little unfair to Ron. Not telling him what was going on was much harder than he’d expected. He was in half a mind to blurt out the whole story right now – Malfoy was back to square one in his mind after what he’d said to fake Crabbe and Goyle. But he was too tired to open that can of worms right now. He’d just talk to Malfoy tomorrow and nullify their truce. Then everything would be back to normal.

---

He met Malfoy the following day. This time, Malfoy had beaten him there. Harry was met with the sight of him already sitting on a chair, going over a large book with a quill in one hand and wand in his off-hand, turning pages with it lazily. He didn’t even look up as Harry entered.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Harry said angrily, hands folded over his chest. Now Malfoy looked up, smirking.

“Haven’t the faintest Potter. Enlighten me would you, or be quiet.” Harry glared at him. He really should have thought through what he was going to say. It wasn’t like Malfoy would know Harry had been there on Christmas evening. After several more moments of angry glaring, that were met with faint amusement and indifference, he decided on the truth.

“I was there that evening on Christmas day when you said that stuff about Ron’s dad. What happened to not being so sure about blood supremacy? And not talking badly of my friends?” Malfoy’s smirk didn’t falter.

“Potter, are you having delusions or something? If, by the afternoon on Christmas day you’re referring to the time I spent in the Slytherin common room, I’ll have to say, that I’m not following. How on earth would you have been there?” Harry shifted awkwardly from one foot to another and started speaking.

He ended up telling Malfoy the story of the Polyjuice potion. How him, Ron and Hermione had thought that Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin for ages and wanted proof. He didn’t mention stealing from Snape or where they’d brewed the potion. Nothing that Malfoy could use as evidence to incriminate them. It’s not like any teacher would believe him if he told them a trio of second years successfully brewed and drank Polyjuice potion.

He told Malfoy about how, even though he’d already known Malfoy probably wasn’t the Heir, he didn’t have a way to tell Ron and Hermione that. When he’d finished, Malfoy actually laughed.

“God, Potter. What in Merlin’s name? That’s the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. I suppose I should be offended but really, I’m quite flattered you all thought me the Heir of a great Hogwarts founder. And I’ll have to give Granger more credit for her potions abilities in future. I have no doubt you and Weasel were more of a hindrance than a help.” Whatever reaction Harry had been expecting, it wasn’t that. He even forgot his anger momentarily in the shock.

“What, you’re not angry?” he said. Malfoy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “I mean, it is a little funny. And it explains why Crabbe and Goyle were acting so strangely that evening. You two are not subtle.”

“Hey, we fooled you, didn’t we?” Harry said, indignantly. Malfoy rolled his eyes again.
“Yeah, because I was supposed to suspect you’d disguised yourself with Polyjuice potion?” Harry was quiet at that. Seconds passed before he remembered he was supposed to be angry.

“Okay, but why’d you have to say all the stuff to Crabbe and Goyle about Ron and Hermione? It was cruel,” Harry huffed. Malfoy looked bemused.

“And, why, do you suddenly think I’ve had such a dramatic personality change, Potter? It’s not like I haven’t said those things to your face. Why would you care? Thought you still hated me and just put up with me for this mutually beneficial arrangement,” Malfoy retorted, folding his arms, and propping his legs up on the desk, staring Harry down. Harry glared at him angrily.

“Yes,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “Only, you’ve been saying you’re not sure you agree with blood supremacy and your family as much anymore. Not to mention you agreed to stop saying mudblood to me. So, which is it? Are you just faking this ‘changed’ version of yourself for my sake?” Malfoy sighed and took his feet off the desk.

“Potter, things are more complicated than you realise. I know you and all your little Gryffindors wouldn’t understand this, but things are different in Slytherin.” Harry looked at him curiously, waiting for him to go on.

“There are certain things expected of me, from my parents and from some of my older housemates. Crabbe and Goyle are both expected to report back on my behaviour to their parents, and I’m expected to report back on theirs’s. Our families keep in contact to make sure we’re upholding ‘proper pureblood wizarding beliefs’. If I were to suddenly stop talking about how much I hated you and Ron and non-purebloods, they would notice. My father would find out,” he said, seriously. Harry considered him, thoughtfully.

“And you… don’t believe in proper pureblood wizarding beliefs?” Harry asked, tentatively. Malfoy looked uncomfortable now, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

“I know I don’t want muggle-borns to die,” he said quietly. “I don’t think any wizards deserve to die.”

“And what about muggles?” Harry pressed, folding his arms. Malfoy huffed.

“Look Potter, can’t that be enough for now? I’m still thinking about it, okay?”

“I guess,” Harry relented after a moment’s silence. He looked at Malfoy until the blonde met his gaze again. Malfoy huffed and rolled his eyes.

“God, you’re insufferable, Potter. Give it a rest and help me with these books.” Harry gave in and sank slowly to the floor, still watching Malfoy apprehensively. Eventually, he reached for a book.

---

The session went very similarly to the last, both boys sat in silence pouring over heavy books. This time, most of the titles were not about family histories. They’d had quite enough of mapping the potter family tree, and so had moved on to a broader range of topics; “Rare wizarding Gifts’, ‘Most Ancient languages of the Magical World’, ‘A Wizard’s Guide to Hiding Magical Places’, ‘Secrecy Enchantments of the Middle Ages'. This time, they were looking for anything that could help uncover how the chamber might be hidden, and how one might open it.

Harry looked up from, ‘A History of Hidden Magical Spaces in Great Britain’, suddenly remembering a conversation they’d had last time.

“Didn’t you say we’d look at Pureblood Wizarding traditions this time? Find out if my magic’s gone all wonky from not upholding my family rites or whatever?” Harry asked. Malfoy raised his head slightly, not tearing his eyes away from his book.

“Huh? Oh,” he tutted and waved a hand dismissively. “You’re twelve. None of that will affect you until you’re much older.”

“What!” Harry yelled. “But you said-” Malfoy looked up properly now, fixing Harry with a very similar look to the one Snape often used.

“It’ll still affect you, but not right now. I figured the Chamber was a more pressing matter. You can deal with that later. Not like I care whether your mental stability deteriorates. You’re already a loon.” He looked down again. Harry glared at him until he looked up. Malfoy rolled his eyes and huffed.

“God, Potter, fine. I’ll find a book on it later. But, it’s not like we’d be able to do much anyway, since details on family traditions are kept in your family’s artifact – oh honestly why has no one told you anything. It’s a book of all the family history and traditions,” he elaborated, after seeing Harry’s still-confused expression. “It’s probably in your Gringotts’s vault.”

“Uh, okay,” Harry muttered. “Why did you have to be so dramatic about it then, acting like I was going to die!” he said, annoyed. Malfoy smirked.

“Me? Dramatic?” he huffed. “Potter, you’re the one exaggerating here. I did not say you were going to die.” He snorted at Harry’s glare. “Okay fine it was a little bit funny to see you so alarmed. And I was being mostly serious. It is a big deal, and it will hurt your magic. But you’re not going to die so calm down. You don’t have access to your vault anyway so there’s not much you can do till then. The traditions are probably just general wheel-of-the-year based things anyway – spells you perform every Yule or Samhain.”

It seemed to be becoming a fact of life that conversations with Draco Malfoy made Harry feel like a complete idiot for knowing basically nothing about pureblood wizarding traditions. He felt a little hurt that no one before his arch-enemy had mentioned this to him. Not even Ron, who was a pureblood.

“But what’s-” he started.

“Salazar save me!” Malfoy exclaimed. “I am not an endless well of pureblood information for you to peruse whenever you please.” He picked up a somewhat small book from the top of the pile and preceded to lob it at Harry’s head.

“Hey!” Harry yelled, ducking out of the way to avoid it. “What was that for!” Malfoy rolled his eyes and ignored him. Harry glared, and then gingerly reached for the book, turning it over so he could see the cover – ‘The Wheel of the Year: Wizarding Holidays and Rites’.
“Well, you didn’t have to throw it at me!” he muttered, bitterly.

“No,” Malfoy said thoughtfully, not looking at Harry. “I suppose I didn’t have to. But I need some way to vent my frustrations at having to spend time with you.” Harry threw his quill at Malfoy, which missed him by a few inches. Malfoy ignored him. Harry did the same, flicking through the small book half-heartedly.

---

This study session seemed to contain much less revolutionary information to Harry than the last. Apart from the stuff about wizarding holidays, which, in fairness, was not very relevant to their task, neither had found out much that seemed useful to finding The Chamber of Secrets.

“Are you sure you can’t write to your father or something?” Harry asked tentatively, packing his things away. Malfoy stiffened.

“No,” he said firmly. Harry sighed.

“Okay, okay fine.” They both fell silent. “Well, uh, guess I’ll see you next week,” Harry muttered.

“Hm,” was Malfoy’s reply. They parted ways at the door. Harry glanced back at him as he walked away. He was starting to get whiplash from all the back and forth of thinking Malfoy was an evil, slimy little bully, versus maybe a not totally awful person. He was starting to realise that perhaps there was more to him than he’d first thought.

---

As had happened the first time around, Harry’s suspicious absence for most of the morning had not gone unnoticed.

“Mate, where have you been?” Ron asked when Harry entered the hospital wing. Ron was sitting by Hermione’s bed. Harry waved his hand, dismissively.

“Had to finish an essay for Snape that he’s having me rewrite,” he lied, easily. Ron made a disgusted sort of face.

“Ugh, over Christmas!”

“Yup,” Harry sighed. “How are you Hermione?” he said, attempting to change the conversation before he could be asked too many questions. She smiled at him and soon the three of them had moved on to topics unrelated to Harry’s morning absence.

---

The next few days of the Christmas break were mostly uneventful until Tuesday evening. Harry had a nightmare that night that he hadn’t had in a long time – his parents’ death. He woke up sweating and shivering all over, quickly pushing the sheets off him.

He cast a quick Tempus, seeing that it was about one in the morning, and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep for hours after a dream like that. His skin was crawling with the urge to move, and he was still sweating profusely. The dream had reminded him of his time in the cupboard at the Dursley’s. This thought suddenly made him feel very claustrophobic in his hangings, and he pushed them back, abruptly.

He stood, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and left the dorm. He decided that he’d go to the owlery. The big open room was as far as he could get from a cupboard under the stairs, not to mention such an abundance of animals would be very out of place at the Dursley’s.

He made his way towards it, climbing the stairs and hoping that Hedwig was not out hunting so he could have her for company. As he neared the top, he heard a faint noise that sounded very out of place in the current environment. He realised, to his horror, that someone was crying. Not sobbing violently but sniffling softly. He clutched the cloak tighter around himself and stepped into the room.

Even more horrifying to him than the realisation someone was crying, was the fact that that someone was Draco Malfoy. He was sitting against the far wall, a letter clutched in his hands and a large eagle owl sat beside him on the stone floor. Harry stiffened, shocked at what he’d walked in on, and entirely unsure of how he should proceed.

He wasn’t sure what made him do it. He’d look back on it and think he was probably possessed, but he backed down the stairs a little, stuffed the cloak into his hoodie, and walked slowly back into the room.

Malfoy didn’t notice him immediately, just continued rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and stroking the owl beside him. Harry awkwardly stood there.

“Um,” he started. Malfoy flinched and jumped to his feet, wand immediately in his hand and pointing at Harry’s chest. Harry thought bitterly, that if he got cursed right now, it would be entirely his own fault and he was an idiot for not leaving at the first sight of Malfoy.

“Potter,” Malfoy sneered, glaring at him. The look didn’t quite reach his eyes, however, which were still wet with tears. As if sensing Harry’s thoughts Malfoy blinked and wiped his face angrily. “What, stalking me are you? Come to hex me in the middle of the night?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, alarmed. “No, no, I just – I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think anyone would be up here.” He glanced nervously at Malfoy’s wand and then back to his face, feeling the most awkward he’d probably ever felt in his life. “Are… are you… okay?” he asked bravely. This was most definitely the wrong thing to say. Malfoy looked even angrier now, wand-hand shaking. Harry tried to backtrack.

“No, no I mean it’s okay um sorry, no. You don’t have to tell me anything that was stupid I don’t know why you’d want to tell me of all people.” He glanced nervously at Malfoy, feeling very put out by his extended silence. Normally, the prat had all too much to say to Harry about how little he thought of him.

Slowly, Malfoy began to lower his wand, still fixing Harry with a steady glare. Harry fidgeted with his hands.

“Well?” Malfoy said at last. “Why’d you come to the school owlery of all places if you couldn’t sleep?” He looked at Harry suspiciously. Harry just blushed at that. He definitely did not want to tell Malfoy that he’d been locked in a cupboard his entire childhood and was feeling claustrophobic after a nightmare. The bastard would have a field day with that information.

“I wanted to see if Hedwig was up here. My owl,” he eventually settled on. Malfoy still looked at him sceptically. Harry sighed and finally looked away from the boy, glancing around to see if she was, in fact, there. To his luck, she was. He took a few steps towards her and petted her gently. Malfoy watched him fiercely all the while, wand still in hand.

“Uh, is that your owl over there,” Harry went on, desperately trying to find a more comfortable topic of conversation. He didn’t want to just leave. It would feel like admitting to some sort of defeat. And besides. He really did want to see Hedwig. She had a very calming presence.

Malfoy seemed to appreciate this and nodded, putting his wand back in his pocket. “His name is Ulysses,” he said, softly. “Did you say your owl is called Hedwig?” he asked, slight amusement evident in his tone.

“Oh,” Harry said, laughing softly, and a little awkwardly. “Yeah, Hagrid got me her as a birthday present that day in Diagon before first year. She was the best birthday present I ever got and my first real friend.” Harry blushed at that. He’d said too much. He mentally kicked himself for not being more careful, but he was tired, and his emotions were all over the place from the nightmare. God, that was such an embarrassing thing to tell Malfoy of all people. He braced himself for the insult, but, to his surprise, it didn’t come.

“What? I thought you grew up in the muggle world, not in total isolation,” Malfoy said in surprise. Harry was feeling very embarrassed now.

“Well, yeah,” he muttered. He took a deep breath. Malfoy hadn’t said anything nasty yet. And he probably owed it to him to embarrass himself a little after walking in on the boy crying like that. Harry bravely continued. “My cousin always made sure no one at school was friends with me. He’d pick on them if they were.” He looked up at Malfoy defiantly, daring him to say something spiteful.

“Oh,” was all he said instead. A silence stretched awkwardly between them, both boys just looking at each other. Eventually, Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath and spoke; “You asked before whether I was okay. Why would you do that?” There was no malice in his voice – a genuine question. Harry shrugged.

“You were upset. I was worried,” he said simply. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at that.

“Worried about me?” Harry shrugged again.

“Well, you were crying. I think that act alone proves you’re not as evil as you pretend to be.” Malfoy huffed amusedly at that.

“Thanks, Potter.” Harry shifted awkwardly.

“Um,” he started, “so… are, you alright? Harry waited nervously for an answer. Malfoy looked uncomfortable.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me the truth about why you’re actually up here in the dead of night,” Malfoy replied, folding his arms, and looking at Harry expectantly. What the hell, Harry thought. He’d embarrassed himself enough already. What was a bit more?

“Fine. I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Draco drawled. Harry glared at him.

“Yes,” he bit out. “I dreamt of the night my parents were murdered. Happy?” Draco’s smirk fell at that.

“Oh,” he whispered.

“Your turn,” Harry said, bluntly. Malfoy looked up at him and sighed.

“Alright. I got a letter from my mother today, and I don’t know what to say in return.” Harry looked at him curiously. That did not seem like a reason to be crying. Seeming to sense this confusion, Malfoy went on.

“I,” he paused, “she’s not well right now. Mentally. She didn’t write it explicitly, but I can tell. She…” he paused again, and Harry waited. “She’s not well… because of me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go home for the break this Christmas it’s that I was told I couldn’t. He… my father. He was very upset with me for speaking to you and the Weasleys that day in Diagon before term. With all the raids on our manor recently, he’s been under a lot of pressure and was angry at me for drawing the attention of the person conducting most of those raids. And then he was humiliated in front of everyone like that. So, naturally, I got the blame. He still hasn’t forgiven me,” Malfoy whispered, turning away. “He will after this Christmas. The break is just to drive the point home. But now Mother’s there in that house with him all alone, and I know she’s the one who’ll be receiving the blame while I’m away.” Malfoy wiped at his eyes angrily.

Harry just stared dumbly, not exactly sure what he was supposed to say to that. Eventually, he reached out and patted Malfoy’s shoulder, awkwardly. The blonde let out a slightly wet laugh.

“God, Potter. What an emotional comfort you are.” Harry laughed too, half out of relief that Malfoy had stopped crying. He was glad the boy was somewhat back to his usual, sarcastic self.

“Your mum will be okay Malfoy,” Harry said, not knowing how he could at all promise that, but hoping the words at least helped. Malfoy just nodded and wiped at his face again with the back of his sleeve.

“I think I’ll head back to bed now, finish the letter tomorrow,” he said. Harry started, having forgotten how late it was, and that he and Malfoy were not actually friends.

“Oh, of course. Yeah, I should do the same.” They looked at each other.

“Goodnight, Potter,” Malfoy muttered eventually.

“Oh,” Harry said dumbly. “Night.” Malfoy nodded at him before disappearing down the stairs.

Chapter Text

The rest of the Christmas holidays passed in reasonable normality. Hermione was still in the hospital wing, which made it difficult for Harry to meet up with Malfoy, as he couldn’t exactly tell Ron why he was absent for hours on end. Normally, Ron would have Hermione to distract him if Harry needed some alone time.

Eventually, Harry had to convince Malfoy to move their second meeting of the holidays to after curfew, a fact he was not happy about. To give him the message, Harry started an argument after breakfast one morning, conveniently after Ron was held back by one of Percy’s lectures. He used the argument to pull Malfoy into an empty classroom, locking and silencing the door.

“You insufferable git, Potter,” Malfoy said between gritted teeth. “What?!” he yelled as Harry put his wand back in his pocket.

“Look, sorry for saying those things, but I had to talk to you,” Harry said. Malfoy looked at him expectantly, sighing.

“Well?”

“We have to move our meeting next week to after curfew. I can’t shake Ron while Hermione’s still in the hospital wing. It’ll be too suspicious.”

“Potter, I am not getting caught after hours just because you can’t tell your specky, red-head nosy friend a decent lie,” Malfoy snapped.

“Well, it’s that or no meeting at all,” Harry yelled back. “So, make your choice.”

“Fine!” Malfoy said hotly. “But if I get caught, I’ll make sure you’re in detention with Filch until the end of the school year.” Harry rolled his eyes.

After they parted, Harry realised that it had been the first time he’d spoken to Malfoy since that night in the owlery. Things felt very different back on ground level and in the harsh light of day. He was starting to feel nervous about what exactly it would be like properly having to spend time with Malfoy since their emotional outbursts. Things were so much simpler when he could ignore the git and experience his company in woeful ignorance of his humanity.

---

A day later, while he and Ron were sitting in the common room playing chess, he remembered that he had something he’d been meaning to ask since his meetings with Malfoy.

“Hey Ron, you know how your family is pureblood and stuff?”

“Mm,” was Ron’s response, as he took Harry’s rook with his knight.

“Uh, well I was wondering what you know about family magic traditions?” Ron looked up at that, confusion written all over his face.

“What? Those poncy rituals, and holiday things? Why do you want to know about that?” Harry shifted awkwardly.

“Um, I was just reading somewhere about how it affects your magic and stuff.” Ron looked up properly from the chess game now.

“Well, yeah, mum and dad still do the spells, but all the rituals and holiday things are only done by families with dark wizards.”

“What?” Harry started, shocked at this revelation. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, only the old blood puritist families still celebrate all the traditional holidays, like Samhain and that. They practice dark magic during them.” Harry was seriously confused now. This wasn’t making any sense.

“Why would the holidays require dark magic? I thought the spells were just to protect your family magic?” Harry asked. Ron shrugged and gave him an analysing look.

“Harry, where exactly did you read about this?”

“Just came across it in some book. I don’t remember,” Harry said evasively. “Thought I should know since I’m the Potter heir and all.”

“Well, yeah mate, but I’m sure Dumbledore is taking care of the spells and that. I don’t know why you’re suddenly so interested in dark wizarding rituals.”

“I’m not,” Harry said hotly, wholeheartedly regretting bringing the topic up. It didn’t seem to him like there was anything dark about these traditions from what he’d read in ‘wheel of the year’. “Never mind. Let’s just play the game,” Harry said. Ron eyed him suspiciously but didn’t bring it up again.

---

The night of his and Malfoy’s next meeting arrived. Harry snuck out of the dormitory under his invisibility cloak after he heard Ron start snoring and made his way to the abandoned classroom. Malfoy was waiting when he got there.

“Well?” he said as soon as Harry closed the door. “Are you happy now that we’re both going to get caught out after curfew?” Harry rolled his eyes.

“What? Scared are you Malfoy?” Malfoy narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.

“Of course not. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Mm,” was all Harry said in response, raising an eyebrow. Malfoy huffed.

“Stop being a prat and make yourself useful Potter,” he snapped. Harry rolled his eyes again but didn’t reply, just sat down, and pulled a book towards him. It seemed not much had changed then in the ways of friendship after their run-in at the owlery.

After some time in silence, a section of a book Harry was reading caught his eye.

“Hey Malfoy, do you know much about basilisks?” Harry said, looking up at him. Malfoy looked up too.

“Hm, not much. Why?”

“Do you think it could be the monster in the chamber? It’s a giant snake. Makes sense for something only the heir of Slytherin can control.” Malfoy considered him for a moment, lips pursed and eyes distant. Eventually, he shook his head.

“It’d be able to be controlled yes, but there is absolutely no way a giant snake could get around this castle without being seen. Plus, it kills people with its stare, not petrifies them.” Harry was a little stumped at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We should probably look for something that has petrifying powers.” Harry couldn’t help but feel that there was something he was missing, but Malfoy had been right. They’d have to keep looking.

After several more hours of reading and taking notes in mostly silence, Harry was exhausted. He yawned loudly, setting his book down and leaning back to lie on the floor.

“Potter, get off of the floor you plebian.” Harry snorted at that, raising his head off the floor to look at Malfoy.

“Shove off Malfoy.” He laid back down, closing his eyes. He heard shuffling noises and opened his eyes to see Malfoy standing over him, scowling with his hands on his hips.

“If you were too tired to continue, Potter, you could have just said so. Get up so you don’t end up falling asleep on the floor like a house-elf.” Harry sighed dramatically and pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Happy?”

“No, I’m quite tired actually. Help clean up so I can go to bed.” Harry got up properly now, groaning as he did. Malfoy just rolled his eyes. They did clean up the room but in silence. When they finished, Malfoy went straight for the door.

“Wait,” Harry said, not exactly sure what he was doing. Malfoy turned, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll walk you back to your common room, so you don’t get caught.” Malfoy laughed at that.

“I’m not some helpless little girl you need to walk around with late at night. I can take care of myself. Your big feet would only make me more likely to be caught.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Harry said. He pulled out the invisibility cloak and held it in front of him so Malfoy could see. “I figure you know what this is?” Malfoy gasped.

“Where did you get that?” he said, awed.

“It was my father’s. Dumbledore gave it to me in my first year.” Malfoy scoffed at that.

“This makes so much sense now – how you’re able to get away with everything.”

“Yeah, and I’m doing you a big favour right now by letting you know about this and even use it, so I’ll make your life miserable if you dare tell anyone about this. It’s one of the only things I have left of my father.” Harry blushed at that a little, not meaning to say the last bit.

“Please Potter, what’ll you even do?” Malfoy scoffed. Harry glared at him.

“Fine,” he snapped. “It was an awful idea.”

“Wait,” Malfoy said suddenly. Harry turned back to face him. “Ok fine. I won’t say anything. I was just joking. I appreciate that you’re showing me this.” Harry was surprised at the sincerity behind his words.

“Okay,” he said, moving next to Malfoy so he could get the cloak over them.

“Ugh,” Malfoy said. “Do I have to get so close to you?” Harry glared at him, moving away slightly.

“You can always take your chances with Filch.”

“Fine. It’s fine,” he grumbled. “Sorry,” he muttered, so softly Harry almost didn’t hear. Harry smirked a little at that. It was very satisfying hearing Malfoy apologise to him. Malfoy seemed to sense this thought and shot a glare at him. Harry just smiled back and swung the cloak over the both of them.

He did indeed walk Malfoy to his common room. The two bickered a little on the way as was unavoidable in such proximity, but they made it, having avoided both Mrs Norris and Peeves with the help of the cloak.

As soon as they reached the Slytherin common room, Malfoy pulled the cloak violently off himself and stepped away from Harry.

“Piss off Potter so you don’t hear the password.”

“Pureblood,” Harry said, having remembered it from his time pretending to be Goyle. The wall opened and Malfoy glared at him. Harry just grinned, enjoying getting one over on the stuck-up git.

“I’m going to make sure the perfect changes it tomorrow,” Malfoy huffed angrily.

“Mkay,” Harry said. Malfoy glared harder and stomped into the common room. The wall slid shut behind him. Harry sniggered to himself and made his way back to Gryffindor tower, thoroughly exhausted.

---

Once the holidays ended, it became even more difficult to organise a time to research with Malfoy, as having so many people around made it difficult to organise a time. Hermione was still in the hospital wing too, so Ron was basically always plastered to his side. Eventually, Harry resorted to instigating a fight between him and Malfoy after potions, slipping a note into his pocket while he had Malfoy in a headlock. The move was a risky one that almost resulted in detention from Snape, but the unwavering glare Malfoy directed at Harry for most of lunch let him know it had worked.

They had agreed that this was the most effective and least conspicuous form of communication during their last meeting. They had also agreed to continue the fighting and insults outside of their meetings. Harry was finding that he was starting to kind of enjoy their altercations, now he knew Malfoy’s insults were mostly for show. He had a lot of fun thinking up new, witty slights to use.

Harry was slightly glad that Hermione wasn’t there to scold him over his behaviour. Ron practically bounced off the walls with glee every time Harry said something new and spiteful to the blonde.

“It’s nice to see you putting Malfoy in his place so much these days Harry. Blimey, I can’t believe some of the things you’ve been coming up with.” Harry smiled mischievously but said nothing, returning to his lunch.

The truth was, he wasn’t exactly sure where he and Malfoy stood nowadays. They hadn’t had any conversations as civil as their one in the owlery (if you could even really call it civil). They still bickered and insulted each other as much as possible, and even got into slight physical or magical altercations during their study sessions, but Harry didn’t feel the same anger during these as he’d used to. He was starting to find the bickering more playful than spiteful. He had an inkling that, as much as Malfoy pretended to hate Harry, he was feeling the same. He definitely didn’t have the same malice in his eyes when they fought that he’d used to.

When Hermione got out of the hospital wing, she scolded Harry endlessly for instigating incidents with Malfoy.

“Harry, he’s not worth it! Why don’t you just leave him alone or ignore him? I know you hate him, and I agree that he’s a real piece of work, but you’re going to get in so much trouble!” Harry just shrugged her off. Ron gave him a thumbs up while Hermione’s back was turned.

---

Before long it was February. Harry had discovered Tom Riddle’s diary in Myrtle’s bathroom, and Valentine’s Day was right around the corner. He and Malfoy had been trying their best to find out as much as they could about hidden chambers and secret monsters but hadn’t come any closer to uncovering Salazar’s secrets. Harry hadn’t told Malfoy about Riddle’s diary yet. He didn’t really know what he’d tell him anyway, since the diary had wielded no useful information. Furthermore, there had not been an attack since before Christmas, and he was starting to hope that maybe the chamber had been closed already.

Valentine’s day came and went, culminating in the revelation that Hagrid had been the one to open the chamber. Harry now had no excuse to keep the diary a secret from Malfoy, so he vowed to tell him the next time they met in the hope that Malfoy might have an idea of what to do about it.

The next day, Harry shoved Malfoy while walking past him in the corridor after breakfast, shoving a note into his pocket as he did. During the resulting altercation, he tried to stare meaningfully at the Slytherin, attempting to communicate the importance of this meeting without words. Hermione pulled him away and scolded him for his behaviour.

As it was a Saturday, Malfoy appeared in their classroom an hour after the fight, quickly warding the door as he closed it.

“What, Potter, is so important that I am risking being seen with you on an early Saturday morning?” Harry ignored this slight and got straight to the point.

“I know who opened the chamber last time” Malfoy’s eyes widened at that, and he strolled over quickly.

“Who?” he said urgently. “And how do you know?”

Harry explained the story of Tom Riddle’s diary as best he could, leaving out no details. He even pulled the thing out to show Malfoy when he’d finished. Malfoy stared at it in amazement, flicking through the blank pages.

“I just don’t know what to think,” Harry admitted with a sigh. “Hagrid would never do anything like this on purpose, and it’s not like I can exactly ask him if he’s the one doing it again.” Malfoy pursed his lips.

“Well, if he’s as much of an oaf as-”

“Don’t call him that,” Harry retorted hotly. Malfoy sighed.

“Fine. But you’re right. It doesn’t make sense for such a muggle-loving Gryffindor to want to open the chamber. You’re probably going to have to talk to him.” Harry groaned.

“I don’t know what I’d even say though. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” Malfoy scoffed.

“People are dying Potter. You care too much about people’s feelings.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“You’re a right git sometimes Malfoy.” Malfoy just smirked at that. He looked down at the diary for a moment and his expression sobered.

“This Riddle person is very strange. Are you sure you should be trusting anything he shows you?” Malfoy said suspiciously. Harry shrugged.

“I don’t know if you can fake memories,” Harry replied. “And we all know that Hagrid really was expelled. Plus, think about how fond he is of dangerous creatures. Maybe he did it by accident.”

“Well, you need to talk to him about it,” Malfoy just repeated. Harry sighed and stared off into space, thinking. Malfoy broke the silence with a sudden snort of laughter.

“What?” Harry said, startled.

“Just realised that I did end up getting to read your secret little diary after all. If I’d known this is all it would take, I wouldn’t have made such a scene on Valentine’s Day,” he smirked.

“Shove off Malfoy,” Harry retorted, but he couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted his lips or the hint of amusement that crept into his voice.

---

The term continued. The diary was stolen from his dormitory, a fact he wasted no time in telling Malfoy about in the hopes he knew something about it. He didn’t. Then, Hermione was attacked. It was now tantamount that Harry speak to Hagrid about the Chamber, with the threat of the school closing made fully real. Harry had hoped it wouldn’t be the case, but Malfoy had been correct. If the culprit was not caught, Hogwarts would indeed close. Additionally, Hagrid and Dumbledore were both gone, making the situation even more direr.

About the only good that came from this was that no one thought he was the heir anymore. The new restrictions made it incredibly difficult for him and Malfoy to continue meeting, and they ended up having to use the invisibility cloak every time, Harry sneaking down to collect Malfoy from the dungeons once a week and making their way to an empty classroom.

They were getting less and less hopeful about finding out anything useful, especially with the current climate. One such evening, as they sat in companionable silence in an empty room in the dungeons, a revelation did occur, but not one regarding the chamber.

As soon as they had entered the room and pulled off the cloak, Malfoy was warding and silencing the door.

“Potter, I was thinking about something, and I need to see if I’m right.”

“Uh,” Harry said, very confused. “What? Is it the Chamber?”

“No,” Malfoy snapped, hurrying to get out a book and his wand. “I was reading about family magics again. My History of Magic assignment reminded me, and I’ve just realised something.”

“What?” Harry said again, getting impatient now.

“I was reading about blocking spells – spells to somewhat limit one’s magical potential for a variety of reasons.” He looked up from the book, fixing Harry with a very serious stare. “How would you describe how your magic feels?”

Harry blinked. He’d never thought about how his magic felt. He could do magic and feel some sort of draining sensation when he did, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what Malfoy meant.

“Um, I don’t know? I can feel myself exhausting when I do magic, but I don’t know what you mean by ‘feeling magic’.” Malfoy nodded like this all made perfect sense and looked back down.

“That’s what it says here. A symptom of the blocking spell stops you from feeling your own magic.” Harry was very confused now.

“What? But I can do magic?”

“Yes, yes, I know. It doesn’t stop you from doing magic. The spell usually just limits your power and magical senses. Most pureblood children have it placed on them before they are born, and it isn’t lifted for a few years until their magic stabilizes. I would suspect that’s what has happened since you were living with your muggles since you were so young.”

“They’re not my muggles,” Harry said hotly. “And what are you talking about?” Malfoy didn’t respond, just made some complicated motions with the tip of his wand and continued reading. Eventually, he went on.

“These sorts of spells are commonplace for older wizarding families. It helps with childbirth and the unpredictable nature of old magic. The older magic gets, the more volatile it is. Muggleborns have new magic. It’s not, in a sense, less powerful, just more predictable and has less of a life of its own. When magic is passed down over generations, it tends to adopt a bit of personality. When that personality is suppressed by the blocks, it can not only reduce one’s magical power but make their wand work shaky and unpredictable. It causes someone to lack power in certain areas but produce strong magic when having emotional outbursts. It can also have the risk of causing one to rely much more heavily on their emotions to produce magic.”

“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “But I still don’t understand what it means to feel magic?”

“Well, it can be a little difficult to describe, and it’s different for everyone. My magic feels like a great frozen lake that melts when I perform spells. My father used to tell me that his magic was like causing a storm cloud to start pouring rain, and everyone knows Black family magic is like fire. My mother’s a Black,” he said in response to Harry’s confusion.

“She says hers’ is like stoking the hot coals of a burnt-out fire. The elemental nature of your magic often runs throughout family lines. You can sense other people’s magic too if you try hard enough. Your magic feels slightly suffocated, that’s what tipped me off that it might be blocked. I didn’t think anything of it until I read about the spell though. It’s normal for some people to have strange-feeling magic.”

Harry’s mouth had fallen open. He had no idea magic was the way Malfoy described. Ron and Hermione never talked about it like that. Perhaps it wasn’t something people talked about a lot.

“That… that sounds incredible,” Harry breathed. Malfoy looked at him in a slightly pitying way that Harry didn’t like.

“I found a way to undo the spell, but it looks like really difficult magic.” He bit his lip. “I… I think we’re going to need help.” Harry was feeling a little lightheaded at this point. He suddenly realised something.

“If it’s so important that the spell is lifted, why didn’t Dumbledore do it?” He felt an uncomfortable knot growing in his stomach. Dumbledore would have surely known about it. Why hadn’t he told Harry about any of this? Malfoy looked uncomfortable, worry on his face.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. They stayed in silence for a while. Malfoy was the one to break it.

“We have to go to Snape,” he said firmly, startling Harry.

“We what!?” Harry said, aghast. Draco gave him a stern look and an eye-roll.

“If we can’t go to Dumbledore about this, we have to go to Snape. He’s the only teacher I trust not to tell Dumbledore and to help me if I ask.” Harry stared at Malfoy.

“Snape hates me! You might be his godson but I’m not! There’s no way he’ll help me!” he exclaimed.

“He’ll do it if I ask him to,” Malfoy said firmly. Harry gave him a sceptical look.

“Do you realise that by asking, you’re going to have to admit that we don’t hate each other anymore?”

“I still hate you, Potter,” Malfoy said, but it lacked bite. Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Keep telling yourself that Malfoy,” he said with a smirk. The blonde rolled his eyes, but Harry could see the hint of a smile on his lips. “And what if he tells your father?” Harry went on.

“Severus knows how to keep a secret. Especially for me,” Malfoy said confidently. Harry sighed and held his head in his hands.

“Fine,” he relented. “But if this goes horribly wrong and Snape murders me, I’m going to kill you.” Malfoy snorted.

“Charming.”

---

They decided on speaking to Snape after potions the next day, which was their last class of the day. Harry kept insisting that Snape was going to murder him and put him in detention for the rest of the school year, but Malfoy just denied this and assured Harry it would be fine every time he brought it up.

For an excuse to stay back, they had come up with a plan for Malfoy to start a fight between them at the end of class (Malfoy was doing the instigating so that Harry didn’t lose too many house points, not that he thought Snape would care, as he kept telling Malfoy). The day arrived and both he and Malfoy dawdled a little as everyone else packed up.

Catching Harry’s eye, Malfoy strolled over to Harry and pushed one of his books to the floor.

“Whoops,” he sneered. Harry glared. “What’s wrong scar-head?” Malfoy smirked, shoving Harry slightly.

“Oi! Piss off Malfoy!” Ron said loudly, but they both ignored him. Harry shoved Malfoy back, after muttering “Your worthless mug is what’s wrong”, and soon they had drawn the attention of Snape.

“Potter! Malfoy! Remain here so I can speak to you after class,” he snapped. Harry and Malfoy put on a show of glaring menacingly at each other, while Ron said in the background, “But sir! Malfoy started it!”

“Get out of my sight Weasley before I give you detention too.” Ron and Hermione left, glancing back at Harry with worried expressions. He waved at them in what he hoped was a reassuring way. When there was only him, Snape and Malfoy in the room, Snape spoke again.

“Fighting is not permitted in this classroom. Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention for both of you.” Harry didn’t even say anything about the unfairness of the situation, he was so nervous about what was to come.

“Sir,” Malfoy said bravely, stepping forward. “We actually needed to speak to you about something.” Snape’s eyebrows shot up at the word ‘we’. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Snape look so alarmed. His mask fell into place a moment later and he crossed his arms, looking appraisingly down at them.

“You and Potter, together, have something to speak to me about?” he said mockingly. Harry was very impressed that Malfoy hadn’t withered under his stare.

“Yes, sir,” he replied calmly, chin still held high in an extraordinarily ‘Draco Malfoy’ way. “Don’t be mistaken, Potter is not my friend, merely a strategic ally in this uncertain time.” Snape’s eyebrow rose again at that, scepticism etched into the curve of his lips. “But” Malfoy went on, “as my ally I have come across a disturbing piece of information regarding Potter’s magic and wish for it to be corrected.”

Harry was having a very hard time not only keeping steady eye contact with Snape but with not bursting out laughing at Malfoy talking in such a formal way. Even more amusing than that, was Snape’s reaction to the insinuation that he and Malfoy were not enemies, and that Malfoy was going out of his way to help Harry with something.

“I have to say, I do not approve of your choice in what you call a strategic ally Draco, but go on,” Snape drawled, fixing Harry with an unnerving stare. Malfoy continued as though there was absolutely nothing dangerous about this situation.

“Potter has not had the blocks on his family magic removed as he should have when he was a few years old.” Snape startled again at that, looking at Harry with a look he had never fixed Harry with before; something almost like concern. Harry was unnerved by it.

“You’re certain Draco?” he said, turning back to face the blonde. Malfoy nodded.

“He has all the signs, and the way he has described his magic fits the description I read perfectly.” Snape breathed in sharply and gave Harry a piercing look.

“Is this true, Potter?” Harry nodded.

“Yes, sir. From what I’ve read, I believe that Malfoy’s correct in his belief.” Snape eyed them both disapprovingly.

“Draco, I am quite certain I do not want to know how this… acquaintance, arose between you and Mr Potter, but I hope I do not have to assure you the importance of this not reaching your father.” Malfoy nodded.

“Of course, sir. Potter and I have not made our allyship known to anyone but you.” Snape’s lip twitched in amusement.

“Good,” he said. “I assume you came to me about this for my help removing it?”

“Yes sir,” Malfoy said tersely. Snape turned to Harry, and he swallowed nervously.

“Potter, I must stress the importance of you mentioning nothing said here to anyone, even your little Gryffindor friends.”

“Of course,” Harry said quickly. “I won’t.” Snape gave him another piercing look.

“I assume you are just intelligent enough to have considered Dumbledore’s motives for not removing the block?” Harry nodded. “The headmaster has always considered himself omniscient in the ways of the magical world. He would have thought himself to have a good reason not to remove the block. Whatever that reason is, is no excuse to damage and limit a child’s magic. Long-lasting blocks can have devastating consequences.” Harry really didn’t like the sound of that. “I will remove the blocks, but you must agree to one thing for me,” Snape continued.

“Um, okay,” Harry said nervously.

“You must learn occlumency,” Snape said. Harry had absolutely no idea what that meant, and it must’ve shown on his face as Snape continued. “Occlumency is a branch of magic that prevents intrusion into one’s mind from a Legilimens. Legilimency is a branch of magic that allows one to see another person’s memories and emotions. It is not ‘mind-reading’, as you probably assume it to be. Most pureblood families teach their children occlumency to protect family secrets, and I know Draco here to be quite an adept Occlumens.” Harry turned to glance at Malfoy briefly.

“As such, Mr Malfoy here will attempt to teach you occlumency, and you will come to me after you feel you are adept. I will test you to make sure that is true. Until you are confident in your occlumency, avoid eye contact with the headmaster. Eye contact is critical to legilimency. Until I can be sure of the headmaster’s intentions, it is critical that he does not learn you have discovered the truth. I will let you know when I have uncovered his plans.” Harry’s head was reeling. Snape just ploughed on, oblivious to Harry’s building headache.

“It will take multiple sessions for me to remove the blocks on your magic Potter, so make sure to earn detention next potions class. I will use that time to perform the required spells.”

“Sir,” Harry spoke up. Snape glared at him, but he continued bravely. “Won’t Dumbledore notice that my magic feels different after the block is removed?” Snape pursed his lips.

“The difference should not be so noticeable that he suspects anything. He has no reason to believe you even know of the blocks, let alone know anyone who would be able to remove them for you. He will simply think that your magic is maturing, as one’s magical signature can change drastically during their adolescence.” Harry nodded, relieved. Snape continued.

“You and Draco will serve your detentions tomorrow evening. You will use the time to learn occlumency while I supervise and do my own work. If anyone asks what you were required to do, you will tell them you cleaned out cauldrons.” Harry and Malfoy both nodded at this.

“Yes, sir,” they both said. Snape nodded approvingly.

“Good. Now get out,” he said sharply. Harry and Malfoy didn’t need to be asked twice, and they both thanked Snape before leaving quickly.

Ron and Hermione were both waiting for Harry outside. They glared at Malfoy as he walked away from them.

“Blimey Harry, what took so long?” Ron asked. Harry schooled his expression into one he thought would be fitting for being in both Snape’s and Malfoy’s company.

“He gave a long lecture on how fighting is dangerous in a potion’s classroom and such. I’ve got detention with Malfoy tomorrow,” Harry said briskly.

“Ugh, the git,” Ron said. “Come on Harry, let’s get dinner.”

Chapter Text

The next day included a single period of potions class. Harry, under Snape’s instruction from yesterday, did his best to earn detention. This task did not require much work at all. He simply talked back to Snape while he was being scolded for his potion.

“And what is this supposed to be Mr Potter?”

“A Girdling potion, professor.”

“Did your overlarge sense of self-importance prevent you from thinking that the key ingredient of Dragonfly Thoraxes was necessary, Mr Potter?”

“No sir, yours did.”

There were gasps all around the room. Harry had to work very hard not to grin openly. He caught Malfoy’s eye at one point, and they both started coughing violently to avoid their laughter being noticed. Snape looked at them both in turn, clearly unimpressed at their lack of subtlety.

“Detention, Mr Potter.”

Ron was shocked but seemed immensely impressed by Harry’s nerve, grinning at him every time Snape turned away. Hermione looked horrified and wouldn’t stop scolding Harry for his behaviour all the way until dinner.

Eventually, an escape came in the form of his already-scheduled detention that evening. He made his way down to the dungeons and into Snape’s office. Malfoy arrived a few minutes later. Snape locked and silenced the door once they were both inside.

“You both know your tasks,” Snape said curtly. “I will leave you to it.” He turned away and sat at his desk. Harry and Malfoy made their way to the two chairs set up at the back of the office.

“Um,” Harry started. “I don’t actually know much about occlumency.”

“Figures Potter,” Malfoy smirked. Harry rolled his eyes.

“You do actually have to help me you know.”

“Mm, I will. Just don’t blame me if you don’t have the mental concentration required.”

“Right,” Harry muttered.

“Okay,” Malfoy started, suddenly serious. “I can’t give you proper practice at shielding your mind since I’m not a legilimens. That will be Professor Snape’s job. I’m going to be helping you learn the techniques and mental focus required before you practice.” He pulled out a book and laid it in front of them.

“This details the different visualisation techniques you can use to learn occlumency. My preferred technique is this one.” He pointed to a diagram of a dragon. Harry let out a huff of laughter.

“Very predictable,” he said. Malfoy rolled his eyes but looked amused all the same.

“Yes, the humour in the choice is not lost on me. I visualise a dragon that lets out burst after burst of fire, obscuring my mind and memories from view. I would recommend this technique for you.” He pointed to a diagram of a veil. Harry looked at him, amused.

“You’re recommending a technique for me,” he said, grinning. Malfoy scowled at him.

“Shut up, Potter. It’s not my fault you’re easy to read. That’s why I’m recommending this one. You project a happy or unimportant memory onto the veil to shield your mind and distract the intruder. Your mind is too all-over-the-place to be able to clear it completely, so I thought this would work best for you. But it’s good to use a combination of techniques in case your first defence is overcome.”

“I would recommend using a compartmentalisation or box technique as your backup. Those are what I use as mine. It required you to sort your thoughts and memories into different sections so you can more easily focus. You also visualise putting your most important memories and thoughts in a locked box, so that they will be the hardest for an intruder to access.”

“Right,” Harry said, still not entirely sure what was going on. He reached for the book and studied the diagrams of techniques Malfoy had mentioned. “So, basically, I have to spend an hour meditating?” Malfoy smirked.

“Correct, Potter. Ask me any questions you might have. Meanwhile, I’ll be working on my own shields. I haven’t had the chance to practice in a while.” Harry groaned.

“Great,” he muttered. Malfoy just continued to look at him with that lopsided angling of his lips, making Harry want to slap his face.

The next hour preceded much as Harry had predicted – complete silence with small interruptions of him asking Malfoy about various visualisations and queries he had. By the end, he found that he was feeling a lot better. He was much more relaxed, and his brain didn’t feel as jumbled up as it usually did. He did have a bit of a headache however from spending so long concentrating.

He went back to Gryffindor tower and slept better than he had in almost his entire life, free from nightmares.

---

His second occlumency lesson a day later went much the same until halfway through. He and Malfoy were sitting together with their eyes closed in silence when Harry heard Snape approaching. His eyes shot open immediately. Snape looked at him disapprovingly.

“I believe you have had a sufficient amount of time to practice your mental focus. You will now attempt a practical examination. I am going to try to enter your mind, and you will do your best to either shield me or eject me,” Snape said curtly.

Harry was startled by this sudden interruption and a little nervous. He had no idea what to expect when practising his occlumency against a true legilimens. He nodded apprehensively.

“Uh, okay sir.” Snape sat on a chair opposite him and pulled out his wand.

“Clear your mind,” he instructed. Harry did his best to compartmentalise his thoughts, bringing one to the front as a defence against the rest. He didn’t expect to be able to eject Snape on the first try, as Malfoy had told him that was much more difficult. He had, however, been practising the dagger visualisation necessary for the task in today’s session. He figured he’d see how he went with misdirection first and then try ejection.

“One, two, three, legilimens,” Snape cast. The sensation was unnerving, Harry thought. He was suddenly reliving his own memories. Initially, the memory he had chosen as his projection held strong; him studying with Ron in silence the night before. After a couple of minutes, however, the veil started disintegrating.

He tried desperately to erect another, but Snape was too fast. He pushed through and a series of moments from Harry’s life flashed before him: Meeting Ron on the train, the flying car, talking to Malfoy in the owlery, being locked in his cupboard after the zoo incident, uncle Vernon yelling at him when he was five while he sobbed hysterically, aunt Petunia hitting him over the head with a wooden spoon, being chased by Dudley, uncle Vernon shoving him roughly into the cupboard again.

“No meals for a week boy.”

“Please,” eight-year-old Harry sobbed. “I don’t know what happened.” Vernon pushed him to the ground, and he cried out, cradling the wrist he’d landed hard on.

“Freak,” Vernon spat at him, slamming the door.

The memories stopped suddenly, and Harry found he was bent over in his chair, silent tears streaming down his face. He gasped and sat up abruptly, angrily wiping at his face and avoiding Snape’s eyes. Had he seen all of that?

Snape was looking at him as though he’d never met him before. Malfoy was looking at them both in confusion, entirely unaware of what had transpired. The silence stretched between the three of them, broken only by Harry’s ragged breathing and gasping as he tried to compose himself.

“You were raised by Petunia?” Snape eventually said, so faintly Harry almost didn’t hear. He looked up now and met Snape’s gaze, confused. That was not what he had expected. It was all he could do to nod slightly.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Snape display such an expression in all his time at Hogwarts. He looked horrified, shocked, stricken. A multitude of emotions seemed to be flashing across his normally pensive face.
“Excuse me a moment,” Snape breathed after another long moment of silence. He stood quickly and walked to the small storeroom attached to the office, closing the door. Malfoy looked at Harry now, utterly bewildered.

“What the hell did you do to Severus?” Malfoy gaped. Harry glared at him.

“Shut. Up. Malfoy,” he bit out.

“Are… are you okay?” Malfoy whispered after a moment. Harry started at that.

“What?” he said. Malfoy shifted his gaze away and looked around awkwardly.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Just… you were crying.” Harry glared at him some more. He did not want to explain to Malfoy, of all people, the horrific childhood memories he had just relived. Before he could respond, Snape entered the room again.

“Potter,” he said briskly, his voice much steadier by still with a hint of emotion. “I must speak with you. Draco, your detention has been cut short. You may leave.”

Malfoy looked even more bewildered, and as though he wanted to protest and demand what was going on, but Snape levelled him with one of those ‘Severus Snape’ looks. He hurriedly collected his things and left the room, giving them both a concerned look on his way out the door. When the door closed, Snape sat back down and took a deep breath.

“I owe you an apology, Harry.” Whatever Harry had been expecting him to say, it was not that. He snapped his focus up to Snape’s face, mouth having fallen open. Snape had never once apologised to him, nor used his first name.

“Sir?” he managed to utter. “I… I don’t understand.” Snape gave him an appraising look and took another breath.

“I feel I have misjudged you greatly Mr Potter, and I hope you feel forgive me for my actions against you. I let a teenage grudge cloud my better judgment and I should have better questioned the circumstances of your childhood leading up to you attending Hogwarts. I have failed Lily in more than one way.” Harry gaped at him. He still had almost no idea what Snape was talking about, why he was even apologising.

“You… you knew my mother?” he whispered, wide-eyed. Snape nodded.

“Your mother was the dearest friend I ever had. Our friendship was not without problems, but I loved her. I should have questioned Albus further regarding your placement after her death. Petunia and Lily did not have a good relationship, and your mother would never have wished you to be placed in her care. I was blinded by my teenage resentment of your father. When you arrived at Hogwarts you looked just like him, and I let myself believe you were him. But you are not, Harry. I know that, and I have been forced to accept that fact. I do not expect your forgiveness of my actions, I simply wish to offer you my apologies for not intervening with the headmaster’s actions.”

“I–,” Harry started. He was completely at a loss for words. Snape being nice to him? It was like he’d entered some sort of an alternate reality in the last ten minutes. He swallowed. “Sir, if you knew my mother, would you… would you tell me about what she was like? Please?” he added. “No one’s ever told me much about her except that she fought against Voldemort. No one ever tells me anything about my parents. Nothing important about what they were really like. My aunt doesn’t even say the name of her own sister.” Harry blushed slightly at his outburst and looked down. He felt a little embarrassed at being so vulnerable in front of Professor Snape of all people.

He fully expected Snape to shut him down and tell him that, no, he would not discuss the matter and Harry was being an insolent child. But, to his surprise, he didn’t.

“Of course, Harry,” Snape said softly. “I’d love to tell you about Lily.” He looked away at that, expression mixed with a multitude of emotions. Harry waited, hardly believing his luck.

Snape started to tell him. He spent the next half an hour telling Harry about Lily. He told him all about how they had grown up together in the same town. How he had been the one to explain magic and the magical world to her. He told him stories of their times together, both before and during Hogwarts. He told him about her brilliance in potions and their time spent modifying recipes together.

Harry listened attentively the entire time. He didn’t dare speak. He was emersed in Snape’s descriptions of this woman, and almost overcome with emotion at the thought of what his life would have been like if she were still alive.

He could tell there were things Snape left out. He didn’t dare ask about his father, or how they had fallen in love. He felt that Snape might not provide an unbiased perspective on that part of his mother’s life, and he didn’t wish to upset the man. He also found that Snape didn’t tell many stories past their fifth year of school, and even less after the end of their schooling. He didn’t ask. He just listened.

After some time, Snape seemed to run out of things to say, or perhaps he was too overwhelmed to go on. Harry himself was on the verge of tears. He sniffed softly and wiped at his eyes.

“Thank you, sir,” he said softly. “She sounds like the most amazing woman.” Snape just nodded stiffly and coughed, reaching for a glass of water on his desk.

“I had best get you back to your common room,” he said finally. “And I will do my best to right my past mistakes regarding your wellbeing. For Lily.”

“Sir?” Harry questioned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I will make other arrangements for your summer residence,” Snape said curtly.

“I can leave the Dursleys?!” Harry practically shouted with glee, then sobered slightly with realisation. “But Dumbledore said at the end of last year that I had to stay there because of the blood protection my mother provided for me.” His hope started to fade. Snape pursed his lips.

“There are other means of magical protection and concealment. And what Albus doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Harry gaped at his professor. Was Snape serious? He was going to go behind Dumbledore’s back to get Harry away from the Dursleys?

“Close your mouth Potter,” Snape said sharply, looking affronted. Harry did, abruptly.

“I will figure something out and talk to you about the possibilities before the term ends.” Harry couldn’t believe his luck at what was happening. Was he really about to be able to escape the Dursleys?

“Can I live with you, sir?” Harry said excitedly, grinning, then stopped, embarrassed. He looked down. “I- I mean- Sorry sir of course that’s probably not what you had in mind.” Snape looked at him, surprised.

“You would be okay with that?” he said carefully. “I had assumed you would not wish to spend your summer in my company, of all people.” Harry shook his head, surprising himself. If he’d thought even a few days ago that he’d be okay living with the potions master for an entire summer, he would have assumed himself insane. The events of the last two days had drastically changed his opinion of the man.

Yes, he was strict and unforgiving. He put up a front of being cruel and cold, but Harry could tell that that’s mostly what it was – a front. Behind his ‘professor’ exterior was a person who had been one of his mother’s closest friends. A man who was intelligent and sensitive and who could love.

“Anything is better than the Dursley’s, professor,” he said quickly. “I- I didn’t mean… I just mean that I wouldn’t mind spending it with you, sir. I’m sure you’d be much more pleasant to be around when you don’t have to be angry at me for messing up my potions,” he smirked.

Snape chuckled softly at that. Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard the man laugh in his life.

“I’m sure you’d be correct Mr Potter. Your classwork leaves much to be desired. I will make arrangements and get back to you. Thank you for your honesty and your forgiveness, Harry. You take after your mother, if not in her potions abilities, then in her unwavering kindness, and her capacity for forgiveness. She would be very proud of you.”

Harry was at risk of crying again at that, so he just nodded, afraid he wouldn’t be able to get out a simple ‘thank you’ without choking on the words. Snape coughed.

“I think that’s quite enough sentiment for this evening. I assume you are aware that you are not to tell anyone of the events that transpired this evening. Nor are you to mention anything about where you will be staying during the summer.”

“Of course, sir,” Harry replied quickly. “Um, can I tell Malfoy sir?” Snape looked at him appraisingly.

“I was under the impression that you and Mr Malfoy were… how did you put it… ‘strategic allies’?” Snape drawled, smirking. Harry blushed.

“Well, yes. It’s not like we’re friends or anything. I still hate him and he’s still a pretentious prick, but, uh, well. If I can’t talk to Ron and Hermione about this, then I suppose Malfoy would be the only person I could tell.” He looked up at Snape nervously. He was still smirking.

“Very well, Mr Potter. You may tell Mr Malfoy. But I must insist that you emphasize the importance of him not telling anyone else.”

“Yes sir. Of course, sir.”

“Let us be off then. It is late. I will escort you to your common room.” Harry nodded and hurried to pick up his things.

They walked in silence to the portrait of the fat lady. Harry was feeling overjoyed at the outcome of the evening. Even summer with Professor Snape was better than the Dursleys. At least he’d be able to get his holiday work done. Maybe he’d even be able to practice quidditch. Snape didn’t seem like the sort of person that would bother him much either, and if he did, Harry thought he and the professor might be starting to get on somewhat. They reached the portrait hole.

“Um, bye then professor,” he said awkwardly, smiling slightly at him.

“I will be in contact by the end of the week,” Snape said. Harry nodded, giving Snape another small smile which the man did not return. It seemed he had a daily limit for emotional or affectionate displays. Harry turned to leave but Snape spoke again.

“Oh, and Mr Potter?”

“Yes?” Harry said, startled. Snape gave him a lopsided sneer.

“Be sure to keep working on your occlumency. Regardless of the lesson’s… interruptions… don’t think that I didn’t notice a lot of room for improvement. I expect you to last much longer than that next time I test you.” Harry blushed and nodded. He had forgotten about his poor first performance at occlumency given the evening’s more dramatic events. Snape nodded curtly and gave him a quick wave.

Harry hurried inside the portrait and up to his dormitory.

---

As they didn’t have potions for the rest of the week, Harry’s less-than-hate relationship with Professor Snape was not noticed. He was a little apprehensive about what the next lesson would be like. Would Snape still belittle him and treat him as unfairly as usual? He supposed that he still wasn’t very good at potions, but definitely not the worst in the class. Maybe Snape would treat him more fairly. He didn’t expect favouritism like Malfoy though. Snape still had to show support for his house at the end of the day, and Harry was as much a Gryffindor as ever.

Malfoy was acting strangely since he’d been kicked out of the office. He kept giving Harry worried looks and staring at him across the great hall. Harry figured that he was just annoyed at being kept out of the loop of what had happened. He told himself that he’d tell Malfoy a less emotional version of what had happened at their next meeting. He’d just have to wait to satisfy his curiosity as far as Harry was concerned.

Ron, however, also noticed the change in Malfoy’s behaviour.

“Mate, why has Malfoy been staring at you all day? Did you do something to him?” Harry just shrugged.

“Dunno. Probably just being a prick like usual.” Ron didn’t look convinced but dropped the matter. He spent the next day shooting glares at Malfoy every time he looked at Harry, which seemed to work in discouraging the Slytherin.

The next day, Harry and Ron met Aragog. This was the first piece of new information they’d had on the chamber in ages. Harry was bursting to tell Malfoy and see what he thought of it. Luckily, their arranged meeting was set for the following day, so he didn’t have to wait long.

---

Harry waited anxiously outside the Slytherin common room under the invisibility cloak. It was past curfew, the only time they could arrange meetings nowadays. The wall opened and a head of blonde hair peered around it.

Instantly, Harry pulled Malfoy towards him, still under the cloak. The Slytherin yelped and looked around.

“Potter! Don’t do that!” Harry ignored him and threw the cloak over the both of them.

“Quick this way!” Harry whispered loudly, dragging Malfoy by his arm to the nearest empty classroom. All the way Malfoy hissed insults at him and tried to tug his arm free. When they got into the classroom Harry locked and silenced the door, then threw the cloak off.

“Potter!”

“I have new information about the chamber,” Harry said quickly before Malfoy could try to insult him again. He shut his mouth at that, eyes widening.

What?” Malfoy breathed. Harry abruptly launched into the story of him and Ron meeting Aragog, Malfoy’s mouth widening by the minute.

“Potter, you idiotic, foolhardy, self-sacrificing, completely mental, suicidal-”

“Yes, yes I get it,” Harry cut him off, rolling his eyes. “No need to worry yourself about my safety Malfoy. What happened to hating me and not caring if I die?” That effectively shut him up. Malfoy glared at him fiercely but didn’t continue. Harry smirked.

“Right. So now that you’ve stopped being an annoying git, I’ll tell you the really important thing we learned. Aragog told us the girl who died last time died in a bathroom, and my theory is that the girl in question is moaning myrtle.” Malfoy raised his eyebrows at that.

“What, the ghost who floods that toilet all the time?”

“Yup. The problem is, we can’t get away to talk to her lately with the castle basically on lockdown. So, if you get a chance on your own this week you need to question her about her death.”

“Potter, I am not getting detention for talking to a melodramatic ghost, nor do I wish to involve myself with a being who lives in a toilet,” he scowled. “She’ll probably spray water all over me and ruin my hair.”

“It’d do you some good for someone to wash all that gel out of your hair Malfoy,” Harry retorted, smirking. He reached up, trying to mess up the perfectly laid blonde locks atop Malfoy’s head, but the boy just smacked his hand away, scowling.

“You’re a menace Potter, and it’s not like you can talk. Your hair looks like it’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. Forgive me if I don’t find the look appealing.” Harry let out a soft laugh at that, then preceded to mess up his hair, even more, running both hands back and forth through it.

“Ugh,” Malfoy scoffed, backing away. “You’ll give me fleas.” Harry just grinned at him. “So, is that it? That’s all you learned?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Oh, also Hagrid didn’t open the chamber. The spider said that a different monster lives in it,” Harry replied. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Great. Who would’ve been able to guess that Hagrid isn’t the Heir of Slytherin?” Malfoy said sarcastically.

“Well, at least it’s something. I almost got eaten by a giant spider for this information.”

“It’s called an acromantula, Potter. I thought you’d learned about wizarding creatures with all that research we’ve been doing.” Harry huffed but didn’t reply. Malfoy looked at him for a few moments, then smirked, clearly realising he’d won the argument.

“Well, now that we’re done discussing your idiotic Gryffindor adventures, will you tell me what in Merlin’s name happened with you and Snape the other day?” Malfoy said. Harry looked down at that.

“Oh. Um…” he started, then sighed. “Yeah, you’d best sit down for this one.” Malfoy looked at him curiously, but, to Harry’s relief, didn’t make a snarky reply. He followed Harry’s instruction, and they both sat cross-legged on the floor facing one another.

“Right,” Harry began. He glossed briefly over the stuff in the memories, going into as little detail as possible about the horrific nature of his treatment at the Dursleys. His description to Malfoy basically amounted to; “My aunt and uncle don’t treat me very well and they’d rather I didn’t exist. Snape saw some memories of my childhood.”

Even that had Malfoy raising his eyebrows and looking half shocked, half, almost concerned for Harry, but he didn’t press the issue. Harry went on to explain that Snape hadn’t known he’d been living with his mother’s sister, and, having been good friends with his mum, knew what she was like. How Snape felt guilty for not intervening, and for seeing only Harry’s father in him, acting according to his teenage grudge.

He didn’t go into detail about the time Snape spent telling him about his mum, but he told Malfoy briefly about how close they were and about the stories from their childhoods. Eventually, he got to telling Malfoy that Snape was going to make other arrangements for where he’d stay during the summer and that perhaps he might be living with Professor Snape.

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“You’ll get to live with Severus?! That’s so cool!” Malfoy said excitedly. Harry looked at him, surprised.

“Really? I mean, I reckon Professor Snape isn’t so bad now but mainly I’m just glad I’ll get to practice flying and do my homework over the break. I didn’t realise you thought so highly of him,” Harry said. Malfoy nodded enthusiastically.

“You’ll probably learn loads. Severus is brilliant. He’s such a talented and intelligent wizard, and he’s a lot nicer when he’s not teaching at Hogwarts. I mean, he’s still a sarcastic git who’ll insult you, but you’ll come to see that it’s more amusing than sadistic after a while. He has a wicked sense of humour, most people just don’t notice,” Malfoy said. Harry gave him a questioning smile at that.

“You really look up to him, don’t you?” Harry said. Malfoy looked away and blushed.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. He’s really been there for me a lot of my life.” Malfoy said. Harry smiled.

“Nice to know that you both have hearts under all that cold Slytherin exterior,” Harry smirked. Malfoy looked affronted and scoffed.

“Don’t go spreading that around Potter or you’ll ruin both our reputations. Severus will curse you a lot worse than I can for it.” Harry grinned.

---

Later in the week Ron and Harry finally found their opportunity to talk to Myrtle when Professor Lockhart let them go to class unescorted. Instead, they were caught by McGonagall and made up a story that they were trying to visit Hermione to avoid detention. This resulted in them indeed visiting Hermione to avoid suspicion.

When they reached the hospital wing, they discovered a torn page from a library book clutched in her hand. Harry felt his stomach drop when he read what was on the page.

How could he have been so stupid? He had considered the Basilisk to be the monster but Hermione had solved the main problem he and Malfoy couldn’t; how it was getting around. Of course, it was going through the pipes. That explained the voice Harry had been hearing all year and why only he could hear it. He also managed to have a lightbulb moment in realising that the victims had been petrified because they hadn’t met the Basilisk’s gaze directly.

He felt like a complete idiot for dismissing then idea so quickly and letting Malfoy dismiss it too. He wanted to tell Malfoy now, that he’d been right, that the entrance to the chamber was surely in Myrtle’s bathroom, and that he could open it. But there was no time, and he was with Ron.

The afternoon’s events transpired with no time for Harry to think about much else. Ginny was taken into the chamber. He, Ron, and Lockhart entered the chamber to try and save her. Harry fought the Basilisk and Tom Riddle. Harry killed the Basilisk and the diary. They managed to escape the chamber with a crying Ginny and an obliviated Lockhart, making their way to McGonagall’s office.

They explained everything. The meeting ended with Harry confronting Lucius Malfoy and freeing Dobby. Then, finally, he could go down for the feast that had been organised last minute owing to the afternoon’s events.

He still hadn’t spoken to Malfoy and wasn’t sure when he would get the chance. Surely, he had heard some of what had happened. Everyone in the school seemed to know that something had happened since Harry and Ron had both earned 200 points each and awards for special services to the school. The feast lasted all night, with everyone in their pyjamas.

When Harry entered the hall, he immediately looked at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting there looking nervous. His gaze snapped immediately to Harry when he entered, staring insistently at him. Harry tried to communicate back through his own look, mouthing “later” at him when Malfoy still seemed to be confused. He knew they were being a little obvious, but he really wasn’t sure what else to do to stop Malfoy from doing something stupid like running over to talk to him.

“What are you looking at Harry?” Ron asked, craning his neck to see where Harry’s gaze had been directed.

“Nothing,” Harry said, looking away and sitting down to eat. A few hours passed before Harry thought he’d have an opportunity to speak to Malfoy. Hermione and the other victims were awake and seated in their houses. After some time getting her up to date on what had happened while she was unconscious, he managed to excuse himself to use the bathroom.

On his way out he shot an insistent stare at Malfoy until the blonde looked up and met his gaze. Harry nodded once, then disappeared out of the front doors. He waited around the corner for a few minutes until Malfoy appeared. Immediately he grabbed his arm and dragged him into an alcove, warding and silencing the tapestry that covered it.

“Potter, oh my god, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me you’d found the Chamber?” Malfoy hissed

“There wasn’t time,” Harry breathed. “I was with Ron when we figured it out and then it was chaos.” Harry launched into the entire story for about the third time that night, leaving out no details. They both sank to the floor at some point, Malfoy enraptured by Harry’s explanation of the events.

He laughed when Harry explained what had happened to Lockhart and was shocked when Harry explained who Tom Riddle really was.

“Merlin, The Dark Lord is a half-blood?” Malfoy said, awed. Harry laughed.

“Yeah, ironic, I know.” Malfoy laughed too, though more nervously than Harry had.

“I can’t believe you actually met The Dark Lord when he was in school.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve met him twice now. Same time last year.” Malfoy’s eyes widened at that. “I’ll tell you that story another time,” Harry said hurriedly. He continued to explain what had happened. Malfoy looked like he was going to faint when Harry told him of the Basilisk, and he actually grabbed Harry’s arm when he recounted that he’d almost died.

“You complete idiot of a Gryffindor Potter,” Malfoy hissed. Harry just grinned. Eventually, he got to the part with Lucius Malfoy. He was a little nervous about that bit. He wasn’t sure what Malfoy would think of his decision. To his surprise, Malfoy laughed when he told him about Dobby sending his father down a flight of stairs.

“So… you’re not angry about that then?” Harry said tentatively.

“Merlin no,” Malfoy wheezed. “That’s brilliant. I’m glad you freed Dobby. He wasn’t a very loyal servant to the family anyway. Father should have freed him ages ago. And don’t worry, there isn’t much love lost between my father and me, though, I hope he has time to cool off before I go home for the summer. He won’t be very happy about this.” Harry just nodded in consolation.

“Well, yeah, that’s basically it,” Harry ended lamely.

“Potter, you’re insane. If anyone but you were telling this story I wouldn’t believe them.” Harry smiled at that.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m just glad it’s over.” They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, leaning their backs against the stone walls opposite one another, legs tangled together on the floor.

“I should probably get back to the feast,” Harry said eventually, sighing. Malfoy started.

“Oh, yeah of course.”

“My friends probably think I died or something since I left to go to the bathroom half an hour ago,” Harry said with a laugh. Malfoy smirked at him.

“Better come up with a good lie, Potter.” Harry groaned and let his head fall back against the wall.

“Yeah,” he sighed. He pushed himself to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. “Better head off.” They looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. “Uh, I’ll go first. You should probably wait a while,” Harry said eventually.

“Oh, yeah,” Malfoy replied. “Well, bye then Potter.” Harry gave him a small smile.

“I’ll let you know what’s happening with Snape. See you in class Malfoy,” Harry grinned. Malfoy rolled his eyes and waved for him to get a move on.

---

The final weeks of school passed in relative normalcy, apart from the fact that there were no DADA classes to attend. Potions was even relatively normal. Snape targeted Harry a lot less than usual, but Hermione and Ron seemed to pin it on Snape being glad Harry had saved the school from being closed, and that he’d had a role in Lockhart’s incapacitation. He was grateful for this assumption.

At the end of their last potions class, Snape called for Harry to stay back. Ron and Hermione gave him worried looks, but he waved them on, telling them it was probably something to do with his essay. Once everyone had left, Harry walked up to the teacher’s desk and stood opposite Snape. He got to the point quickly.

“I have made arrangements for you to stay with me at my residence over the break if that is what you wish.” Harry nodded quickly in agreement.

“Yes, sir,” he said. Snape looked satisfied with his response.

“You will return to your aunt and uncle’s house, and I will visit on the first day of the holidays to collect you and explain the situation to them. As far as I am aware, Dumbledore is not keeping an active watch on the place, but you may need to return periodically if he does. While you are staying with me, you will make sure to keep up with your holiday work and will undertake extra potions tutoring and occlumency lessons with me,” Snape paused, and Harry nodded to show he understood. The Professor continued.

“I will also be fully removing the blocks on your magic during your stay. I have not had the chance yet with the events of this term, and the need for you to learn occlumency,” Snape said.

“Okay sir,” Harry said, smiling. Snape glared at him for his display of positive emotion.

“That is all Potter. You may go.”

“Thanks, Professor!” Harry said, still grinning as he made his way to the door. He managed to school his expression into something more fitting for the lie he’d told Ron and Hermione before he opened the door.

---

His last chance to speak to Malfoy came when they were on the Hogwarts express. While he was on his way back from the bathroom, he saw Malfoy leaving his compartment, and, checking there was no one around, pulled him quickly into an empty one. He warded the door hurriedly.

“Potter,” Malfoy said exasperatedly. “You’ve got to stop doing that.” Harry just grinned at him.

“I’m staying with Snape over the holidays,” he said excitedly, wanting to get to the point. “I’ll make sure to write to you and tell you what it’s like. Maybe you can come to visit since you can just say you’re visiting your godfather.” Malfoy looked at him apprehensively.

“As long as you don’t send me letters with that bright white owl you’ve got, it should be alright. I don’t need attention being drawn to your letters with my father and everything.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sure I could borrow Professor Snape’s,” Harry said quickly. Malfoy nodded. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

“Well, uh, I’d best get going before my friends start looking for me,” Harry said, fidgeting with his hands.

“Right, of course,” Malfoy said. Suddenly, Harry has an idea. He stuck out his right hand quickly in front of him.

“To being friends after all,” he said, raising his chin to meet Malfoy’s gaze. The boy was already ridiculously tall for a thirteen-year-old. Malfoy looked shocked for a moment but gingerly raised his own hand to meet Harry’s. Harry gave him a small smile, and Malfoy smiled back, though a little less confidently. “Well… bye then!” Harry said. Malfoy chuckled softly.

“Goodbye Potter. Try not to get eaten by a great snake again,” he smirked. Harry grinned back.

“I’ll do my best.” He opened the door and left the compartment.

Chapter Text

Harry had only been back at the Dursleys a day. His aunt and uncle had not been happy to see him after his disastrous departure last year, but Dumbledore must have had words with them as they didn’t complain.

Harry was sitting on the stairs, looking intently out of the window to the front yard. He was bouncing his leg anxiously, waiting for the sound of an apparition crack. Snape was supposed to be collecting him today. He’d told his aunt to expect a visitor that might be taking him with them, and, although she clearly wasn’t happy about the ‘visitor’ part, she was putting up with it in the hope she wouldn’t have to deal with Harry all summer. His uncle kept giving him disapproving glares every time he caught sight of him on the stairs, but so far, hadn’t said anything.

A loud crack sounded from outside, and Harry jumped to his feet, racing to the door. His uncle was yelling loudly at him about the noise, but he ignored him, craning his neck to peer out the window.

The doorbell rang and Harry yanked the door open. Snape stood in the doorway. Harry was shocked to see that he was in muggle clothing; a long black coat, a black button-up shirt, and a worn-looking pair of jeans. At least not much had changed regarding his professor’s chosen colour palette.

“Hi sir!” he greeted cheerfully. Snape gave him a curt nod.

“Mr Potter. You have your things?”

“Um-” Harry started, but before he could finish a shriek sounded from the end of the hall.

“You!” Aunt Petunia gasped shrilly, hand over her mouth and eyes wide. “You! You’re that awful boy!” Snape sneered at her and stepped past Harry over the threshold. Harry smirked at the fact that his aunt had called this full-grown man a ‘boy’.

“Petunia,” he drawled. “Such pleasant company as always.”

“Petunia!” Vernon bellowed. “You know this man?” Petunia was frozen in horror, her bony face contorted in rage.

“Get out of my house!” she shrieked. Harry looked between them, amused.

“I assure you I take no pleasure in being in your… house, Petunia,” Snape drawled, pulling out his wand. Both Dursleys took a few steps back at the sight of it.

“Take your… abnormality out of my sight,” Vernon managed to seethe. Snape ignored him.

“Potter, where are your things?” he said, turning to Harry.

“Locked in the cupboard under the stairs,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll get Hedwig from my room.” Snape nodded. Harry raced up the stairs, and heard loud banging from below him, along with a few more shouts. He grabbed Hedwig and hurtled back down to see his trunk levitating in the hall.

Snape was holding his wand out in front of him, looking bored. The Dursleys were cowering in terror at the display of magic.

“Come along Potter,” Snape said, after noticing him. He turned back to Petunia. “You will tell Albus nothing of what has occurred here and will continue to act as though Harry lives at your residence. You will also allow Harry to come and go as a pleases, especially if the need arises for him to keep his cover. If you do not act upon these terms, I have some very strange stories from your childhood that I can tell the neighbours,” he sneered.

Petunia made a squeaking noise and nodded, holding her arm in front of Vernon to stop him from saying anything. Harry grinned. Snape turned away and started to walk out of the door. Harry followed.

“Bye!” he called over his shoulder, still grinning. When they were outside Snape grasped his arm and he was suddenly being squeezed through empty space.

---

They reappeared in bright sunlight in front of a small country house. Harry gasped and bent over, trying desperately not to throw up.

“First time apparating?” Snape said calmly. Harry just nodded. “You’ll get used to it,” he said briskly. “Come along.” After a few moments of heavy breathing, Harry stood up and followed him inside, having to jog a little to catch up.

The house was a small stone structure with two floors, a surrounding garden, and a gravel path. Harry entered into a small living area, with a dining space and kitchen to the side.

“Your room is upstairs along with a small bathroom and a study I use on occasion. My room is that one to the right. Those stairs over there lead to my personal potions lab and stores. I must warn you not to go down there without my permission, as I am often preparing sensitive brews. I am usually busy with my potions master duties during the day, but I will arrange a schedule over the next few days for your tutoring and holiday work,” Snape said. Harry nodded along.

“The property is under many wards and secrecy enchantments. The boundaries extend a fair way into the tree line, so you have permission to fly, but not beyond the boundaries. We are not far from the nearby muggle village, and, as I’m sure you are aware, it will be best not to have anyone spotting you hovering in mid-air. You may visit the village, as there are no other wizarding households nearby, but you must tell me first and be back before dark. You are not to go anywhere other than the property or village. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied quickly, grinning. “This house is amazing! This is probably going to be the best summer I’ve ever had.” Snape smiled wryly.

“I’m sorry to hear that this is what you would consider your best summer, Harry. I’m sure you’d much rather be with someone else.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No, professor this is brilliant! I’m just glad I’ll be able to do my schoolwork!” Snape raised an eyebrow at that. “Can I still not do magic here? With the trace and everything?”

“You may practise magic inside the house, Harry, but not in the village. The trace will not be able to activate within a registered wizarding property, especially not one with as extensive wards as this. It will active, however, if you use magic outside the wards,” Snape replied. Harry nodded, then frowned.

“That doesn’t seem fair. So, children of wizarding families can do magic over the holidays but not muggle-borns?” he asked.

“The trace is somewhat flawed in its complexities. Yes. Wizarding families are expected to take the law into their own hands when it comes to disciplining their children against the use of underage magic on their property. But, as you can expect, many older families have no problem with their children performing spells within the house over breaks.”

“Oh,” Harry said, still frowning. This seemed like another extreme disadvantage for muggle-born or muggle-raised wizards. Snape cleared his throat.

“Perhaps a matter to think about when you’re old enough to join the department of magical law enforcement,” Snape said wryly. Harry blinked.

“Uh right.”

“Go get unpacked and settled. Dinner will be at six, but you may do as you please until then.” Harry nodded, grinning again at Snape.

“Okay sir!” he said cheerily. Snape rolled his eyes and scowled but said nothing. Harry took this as his invitation to leave. He pulled out his wand and levitated his trunk up the stairs. He revelled in the fact he was being allowed to do magic, feeling the buzz of it wash over him and seep into his skin.

He entered the room. It was small, but still much larger than his room at the Dursleys. There was a double bed pushed against the far wall, a large wardrobe, a small wooden desk below the window and a bookshelf. The window overlooked the garden, and the bookshelf was already half-full of a mixture of wizarding and muggle books; most factual in nature but some novels – well-known muggle titles he recognised hearing about in primary school.

He quickly got to unpacking, which didn’t take long as he didn’t have many items. He laid out his school supplies on the desk and his books on the shelf, leaving some of his most precious items like his dad’s cloak in the trunk, which was now at the bottom of his wardrobe. He studied his hand-me-down clothes, wondering if he’d be able to get new clothes in the village. He heard a knock on the door and turned around to see Snape standing in the frame.

“Is everything to your liking?” he said, looking slightly nervous. Harry beamed at him.

“It’s brilliant! Thank you so much, Professor!” He really had no way to express just how grateful he was to this man for everything he’d done for him. Snape gave him a small smile. “I was wondering,” Harry continued. “Is it possible for me to get muggle money out of my vault? To use in the village?” Snape pursed his lips.

“I’m sure that could be arranged. I believe Molly has access to your vault key currently, but I can make excuses about Dumbledore needing it delivered to you now that you’re thirteen. I’ll retrieve some funds for you when I’m in London,” Snape said. Harry smiled for a moment, then remembered something.

“Sir,” he began slowly. “What about my Hogsmeade permission slip? It said it has to be signed by a parent or guardian, which, legally would be the Dursleys wouldn’t it?” Snape sneered at that.

“Ah. I’m sure sending it off to Petunia with a threatening letter will solve that issue.” Harry sniggered at that. “But Harry, before we discuss anything further, there is the issue of your magic blocks I wanted to discuss with you.” Harry straightened at that.

“I can perform the spell now, this evening and tomorrow morning to fully remove them. There must be gaps of at least six hours between the spell’s performance for your magic to fully adjust to the lifting of each layer,” Snape continued. Harry nodded quickly.

“Oh, yeah. That’s fine sir.” He was a little nervous about it, but from everything he’d read and been told by Malfoy, it would be completely safe.

“I have your consent?” Snape asked. Harry nodded again. Snape raised his wand and began muttering. They stood there for a few minutes, Snape muttering a string of Latin phrases and moving his wand in complicated motions while Harry just looked on, feeling awkward. Eventually, he felt a soft tugging sensation in his core and the removal of something. He blinked and Snape lowered his wand.

“How do you feel?” he asked. Harry considered.

“Fine, I guess,” he said. “I just feel like there’s some kind of electricity under my skin or something. It’s a bit hard to describe.” Snape nodded.

“That’ll be the magic. I would advise against performing spells until the day after tomorrow. Your magic will need some time to adjust, especially after each removal.”

“Um, okay,” Harry said nervously. “Sir,” he started again. Snape was trying to look exasperated, but a small smile was playing on his lips.

“Yes, Mr Potter?” Harry shifted awkwardly under the more formal address.

“Will I be able to go to Gringotts myself this summer? I wanted to look at the Potter vault and see if I can find the family magic books.” Snape considered him.

“I am unsure yet, but it would not be wise for you to go there anytime soon, seeing as you are supposed to be at your muggle relatives’ house. I will have to see how the summer progresses, but I assume you will be able to visit when you get your school supplies from Diagon alley before the start of term.”

“Oh, uh okay. Yeah, that makes sense,” Harry stuttered after a moment. “Thanks!” Snape smiled grimly again.

“I’ll be in the study if you need me,” he said, then turned and left. Harry decided that the first thing he’d do on his free afternoon was fly since he was finally allowed to out of school. Grinning to himself, he grabbed his nimbus 2000 and headed outside.

He spent much of the afternoon circling over the property, diving and winding through the trees. He didn’t have a practice snitch to play with but spent a lot of time throwing large stones high above him, waiting until they had almost landed on the ground, and then diving to catch them, scooping them up seconds before they hit the grass. He decided to head inside when one stone almost hit him in the head, camouflaged against the darkening sky.

Broom over his shoulder and hair more of a windswept mess than usual he entered the house to see Snape in the kitchen. He rushed upstairs, putting his quidditch things away, then raced back down.

“Do you need any help, sir?” he asked, approaching the countertop. Snape turned around.

“That won’t be necessary Harry,” he said.

“Um, Okay. Just, I had a lot of practice cooking at the Dursleys so I’m not too bad at it. If you’re ever busy or anything I can make dinner.” Snape looked a little startled at that.

“Thank you for the offer, Harry. I’ll let you know if such an occasion arises.” He gave Harry a small smile.

“Okay,” Harry beamed. “I’ll go shower then.” He bounded back upstairs.

The evening passed mostly in peaceful silence. Snape was quiet and kept to himself, and Harry was happy to give him space. He still felt a little awkward around his professor, not completely adjusted to their new dynamic. Snape performed the spell once more to lift his magic blocks. He was starting to feel a definite magical sensation inside him. He was buzzing nervously at the prospect of feeling his full magical power tomorrow morning as he lay in bed that night.

---

“Are you ready?” Snape said the next morning, wand in hand as they both sat in the living room.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, wringing his hands in his lap. Snape began muttering the Latin phrasing Harry had become familiar with. He felt the tugging sensation in his chest, stronger this time. He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight, his skin hot, and air pushed out of every inch of him. He gasped, and the sensation finally receded. He was left blinking tears out of his eyes and breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

He felt strange but satisfied, as though a great weight he hadn’t known was on him had been abruptly lifted. Like he’d only just learned to breathe but hadn’t known how starved of air he’d been until he had some. His skin tingled with the soft buzz of magic. It surrounded him, penetrated him, embedded itself in every fibre of his being.

He reached inwards to the magic inside him, feeling it coursing through his blood. It crackled and fizzed, sparked and flashed. It felt like lighting, the word suddenly appearing in his mind as though the magic had shown it to him. The magic felt like sparks and cracks and thunder clouds and the dull impression of electricity in warm summer air. He smiled and laughed with relief, breathing in great gulps of cold air.

“It feels incredible,” he gasped to the room, completely breathless with the sensation. He looked up, meeting Snape’s eyes. He was smiling softly.

“Yes, I can imagine. Remember, no magic for the rest of the day.” Harry nodded, still grinning. He thought that was a good suggestion. He’d probably set the entire surrounding area on fire from a simple incendio with how much magic he felt he had at his disposal.

---

He spent the rest of the day alternating between flying and reading through some of the books Snape had left in his room. He went downstairs that evening to find Snape sitting at the table with a sheet of parchment.

“I have written out your holiday schedule,” he began as soon as Harry sat down, pushing the page towards him. Harry read over it.

Monday am – Homework

Monday pm – Occlumency  

Tuesday am – Potions

Tuesday pm – Free

Wednesday am – Potions

Wednesday pm – Homework  

Thursday am – Tutoring (other classwork help)

Thursday pm – Free

Friday am – Homework

Friday pm – Occlumency

“And of course, you have your weekends to do with as you please,” Snape continued. Harry smiled.

“Okay, sir,” he said.

“I have also managed to retrieve some muggle and magical funds from your vault. As tomorrow is Saturday, you may go into the village.” Harry beamed at him.

“That sounds great! Thanks, sir!” Snape just nodded curtly.

“Your classwork will begin on Monday.” He stood from the table and began busying himself in the kitchen. Harry stood too, deciding he’d use the time to write some letters. He went upstairs to his room, sat at his desk, and laid out three pieces of parchment.

Dear Ron,

Hope you’re having a good summer so far, mine’s turning out to be better than I thought it’d be. The Dursleys have given up locking my school things away and I should be able to receive owl post without them getting too annoyed. Make sure to write and keep me updated on things at your house. Not sure if I’ll be able to stay with you or not these holidays because of Dumbledore, but I’m doing a lot better than last year so don’t worry yourself about it. No bars on the windows this time around, so please don’t try to rescue me with a flying car again. It will probably get my new freedom revoked. Hope you’re well,

Harry.

He felt a little bad about lying, but it was the closest to the truth he could get without giving away where he really was. He’d love to tell Ron what was really happening. His reaction to the fact that Harry was staying with Snape would be incredible, but it was too risky, Snape had told him. Ron or his parents might go to Dumbledore about it, and then it would be back to the Dursleys for Harry.

Dear Hermione,

Hope you’re doing well. As I’ve told Ron already, things aren’t half as bad at the Dursleys this summer so there’s no need to worry about me getting locked in my room again. I should be able to get some schoolwork done too so let me know how you’re going with it. I look forward to receiving your letters for once, so make sure to write. Wishing you all the best,

Harry

He spent a long time trying to write his last letter, scrunching up multiple pieces of paper before he had something he was half-happy with.

Dear Malfoy,

I’m still not using your first name that would be weird. Hope you’re having a good summer, mine’s been amazing so far. Snape lives in this really nice house in the country, so I can practice flying and do magic any time I want for once. He’s also going to be tutoring me in potions and occlumency twice a week and helping me with some of my classwork. You’re probably jealous out of your mind at this but I’m just nervous. Snape is still really scary as a teacher, and he’ll probably curse me when I do things wrong since there’ll be no witnesses like at Hogwarts.  

I’m going to go to the muggle village tomorrow to get some new clothes since I only have my cousin’s hand-me-downs to wear. I’d ask if you had any advice on clothes shopping, but you’re probably only used to wizards’ clothes, not muggle clothes.

Oh! I almost forgot! I got the magic blocks removed! It feels super weird but also incredible at the same time. I know what you mean about feeling your own magic now. I haven’t cast any spells yet cause I promised Professor Snape I wouldn’t until tomorrow, but I can tell that it already feels like electricity and lightning. It’s like the energy in the air during a summer storm. Casting spells will probably feel like a bolt of lightning. It’s a bit ironic I think since I’ve got that lightning scar and everything, but fitting, I guess.

Let me know if you’ll be able to visit your godfather anytime soon. I’m okay now but I’ll probably start getting bored in a few weeks with no company. Professor Snape is great, but he keeps to himself a lot of the time and likes things to be quiet. If you come to visit bring your broom and we can go flying. Anyway, hope you’re well,

Harry.

---

He did indeed go into the village the next day, with his muggle money. He walked up the cobbled main street that housed a variety of eclectic looking shops. He settled on a vintage shop that had a brightly coloured window display of selected clothing items and a neat, yet cosy interior. There were a few other people browsing the shelves when he entered and an old hippy-looking cashier.

He browsed the shelves for quite some time, appreciating the fact that he could choose his own clothes for once in his life, and develop his own sense of style. He ended up purchasing a fair few vintage t-shirts, some of which had muggle band names he vaguely recognised. He also purchased a few pairs of jeans in much better condition than his last ones and in a variety of colours. The cashier made sure to tell him about the superior quality of vintage denim as she wrang through his purchase. What he was most excited about though, was his purchase of a brown corduroy jacket, and a vintage pair of black doc martens.

He left the shop laden with bags of clothes. He ended up grabbing lunch at a small café and then poked through a few more stores along the street. He bought a muggle radio at an electronics shop and a new leather rucksack at another second-hand shop.

Back at home he put his new things away and took out most of his more unwearable hand-me-downs from the closet. He decided a burning was in order for them, and so took them out into the garden along with his wand. His magic had mellowed somewhat since when the blocks were first released, but it was still much more present than it had been in the past.

Casting an incendio felt incredible. The magic was almost alive, revelling in being used. It crackled under his fingertips and forked like lightning through his wand. Satisfied with his handiwork, he threw away the remains of the burnt clothes and headed back inside.

---

Tutoring with Snape wasn’t nearly as bad as classes had been. Yes, he was still slightly overbearing and terrifying, but Harry found that he was a much faster learner when Snape was physically showing him what to do, rather than him just reading from some instructions.

He was quickly improving in his theoretical knowledge of potion-making too, with Snape setting him extra readings and explaining the more basic elements of the art. With this groundwork knowledge, Harry found that he was starting to pick up on the technicalities of recipes – which parts of a potion were affected by which ingredients, or which actions of the brewing process affected the outcome more drastically. With a much calmer environment where he didn’t have to worry about getting detention, Malfoy throwing something in his cauldron, or keeping an eye on Neville to make sure he jumped out of the way when his work exploded, he was doing a lot better than he had in class. It was more like cooking than he’d realised, which he was already good at.

His occlumency was improving too, though at a slower rate than his potions. He also enjoyed being able to do his homework in the light of day. Sometimes he’d work at his desk under the window, watching the trees outside sway in the summer breeze. Sometimes he’d sit under said trees near the edge of the property, lying on his stomach on the grass with books sprawled in front of him. Sometimes he’d work down at the dining table, and when Snape would walk by, he’d make off-handed comments and corrections about what Harry was currently working on.

Often, he’d work next to his muggle radio, listening to whatever music was on. He’d used to have a radio at the Dursley’s before Dudley found and smashed it. He revelled in being able to play it wherever he wanted, as long as it wasn’t so loud as to disturb Snape. He was starting to find some muggle bands that he particularly fancied. One station played a lot of Bowie and Queen which he quite liked and mentions of a recent album by a band called New Order kept popping up on multiple channels. He wondered if he’d be able to buy it in town.

He'd asked Snape about whether the radio would work at Hogwarts. Snape had told him that he’d be better off buying a wizarding radio so the magic wouldn’t interfere. Apparently, you could enchant wizarding radios to tune into muggle stations too, so Harry was looking forward to figuring that out once he was back at school.

He’d also received and written replies to his friends’ letters. Hermione and Ron had both been well and happy to hear he was alright. They sent him regular post about their quiet summers, and he happily replied in his free time. Malfoy’s letters were far more interesting to both receive and reply to, Harry was finding. It wasn’t that he preferred Malfoy over his other friends, just that he was the only one who knew the full truth.

He couldn’t even tell his friends about the magic blocks since Snape had forbidden him from mentioning it in case they went to their parents; parents who would likely go to Dumbledore. It sounded like exactly the sort of thing Ron and Hermione would probably do if they found out – go to Dumbledore. They would never believe Dumbledore might be at fault in the matter, hell, Harry wouldn’t have believed it himself not long ago.

Dear Scar-head,  

I am also not going to use your first name and will send you a curse if you ever attempt to use mine. My summer has been pleasant so far. Mother and I are visiting our country home in France while Father deals with some political and family issues back home. With him being removed from the school governors board, he’s been trying to form new political alliances. But I won’t bore you with pointless pureblood ministry stuff.

France is very nice at the moment. I spend most of my time flying or reading. There’s a series of wizarding novels I’ve been reading too that I’ll have to send over when I finish them. Merlin knows you could do with some culturing, living with those muggles and everything. I’m going to force you to read at least some wizarding literature.

You must tell me how classes with Severus are going. You are right that I’m jealous, and if you try to rub it in my face again, I’ll poison him with lies against you and make sure you get kicked out. I hope you won’t be so abysmal at potions when school goes back in September, but you’d better watch out still for stray ingredients flying across the room and landing in your cauldron. I still plan on being best in the class, Potter. Even someone getting private lessons with our professor won’t stop me.

It's great to hear that the magic blocks are lifted. And you’re right. That is very predictable and ironic of you to have magic that feels like lightning when you have a lightning-bolt scar. I’ll endlessly make fun of you for it.

I asked mother about visiting Severus and she said she will arrange something with him. I might have to arrive by portkey since we’re in France, but I’ll let you know. We’re probably looking at the third week of break in terms of me visiting, as mother wants to spend a lot of time with me since she didn’t get to see me over Christmas.  

Hope you’re miserable,

Draco.

Harry found himself rereading the letter a lot over the next few days until the next one arrived. Hermione and Ron hadn’t written anything nearly as long, and he was starting to enjoy Malfoy’s quick-witted and dry sense of humour. He was a little like Snape in that aspect, and Harry felt he’d misjudged them both without realising that what they sometimes disguised as threats, were supposed to be jokes. Now he’d figured it out, he wasn’t sure why others didn’t notice more.

Chapter Text

Harry spent the weeks until Malfoy’s visit in a pleasant routine. He’d do his schoolwork and attend his lessons with Snape. Sometimes he’d practice flying, working on various manoeuvres he’d been meaning to get around to last year. He practised his magic, refining spells he’d already learnt from the last two years and trying out new ones that were in the books Snape left him.

Magic was becoming a lot less effort now that he could feel its presence. He also found he had a lot more power behind his spells than he was used to. He was having to be careful not to overdo things and lose control.

He visited the village a few more times, befriending the cashier at the vintage clothing store he was becoming familiar with, and the owner of the café he often had lunch at. He’d tell them he was visiting his uncle for the summer when they asked if he was new. It seemed most folks knew of Severus but didn’t see him very often, as he kept to himself at the house and wasn’t around during the school year.

On the third weekend of the holidays, Malfoy arrived via portkey. His mother trusted him to Severus’ care, so did not accompany him, like Harry and Snape had feared she might. Malfoy popped into existence outside the house during the mid-morning. Snape greeted him first while Harry held back, feeling distinctly nervous.

“Malfoy,” he said, once Snape had finished his greetings, trying to be formal but struggling to keep the small smile off his face.

“Potter,” Malfoy replied in much the same manner. Snape rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be in my office if either of you need anything. Don’t go beyond the wards,” he said, then turned and walked inside. When he was gone, Harry sniggered. Malfoy gave him a small smirk and headed toward him.

“So,” Harry began. “Wanna go for a fly?”

“Mm, and take the opportunity to learn all your secret tactics and tricks for next year’s Gryffindor versus Slytherin match?” Malfoy smirked. “Sure. I’ll go for a fly.” Harry made a show of scoffing and rolling his eyes, but secretly, he was amused.

They spent the next hour on their brooms, chasing one another around the house. They’d started a game of tag (Harry had had to explain the rules of the muggle-origin game) but were not keeping score. As they both got better and better their manoeuvres got riskier and risker – weaving dangerously through trees at high speeds, performing death-defying dives to try and get the other to crash into the ground, or enchanting surrounding objects to act as bludgers.

All ground rules had been thrown out the window. Harry was currently trying to evade Malfoy by repeatedly casting tickling charms at him, the blonde boy swerving and diving to avoid them. Eventually, Malfoy managed to cast an aguamenti, which hit him square in the face, temporarily blinding him as he and his broom were wrenched downwards. He cast another rictusempra, this one hitting its target, and they both lost control of their brooms, tumbling onto the grass in a giggling mess of limbs and broomsticks.

Harry gasped and spluttered, taking his glasses off to wipe them clean on his shirt. Malfoy was still laughing, even though the tickling charm had worn off by now. Harry rolled away from him, lying on his back as he coughed and laughed, trying to catch his breath.

“You. Can’t. Duel. In. A. Quidditch. Match,” he managed to get out between great gasps of air. Malfoy seemed to have gotten a hold of himself now and was sitting up, pushing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes and grinning. Harry was glad to see it was free of gel for once. He thought the softer look suited him.

“Yeah, still won though,” he replied. “And you’re the one who was just trying to hex me.”

“Only because you tried hexing me first,” Harry said.

“Well, you’re the one who started levitating objects to fly at me.”

“I was simulating what a real match would be like. They were supposed to be stand-in bludgers,” Harry said indignantly. Malfoy scoffed.

“Oh, yeah. Half a dead tree is a very realistic bludger.” He drawled sarcastically. Harry grinned.

“Shame we don’t have a snitch to practice with,” he said eventually.

“Mm,” Malfoy agreed. “Maybe you should just steal one from school using that cloak of yours.”

“Yeah, maybe. Not a bad idea actually. But I meant right now. Not like I can waltz onto school grounds in the middle of summer.” Harry said. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Obviously, Potter.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Harry lying on the grass on his back, Malfoy sitting with his legs splayed in front of him, leaning back on his hands.

“Well, guess I won then since we seem to be finished with the game,” Malfoy smirked. Harry leant over to whack him with the end of his nimbus 2000. “Oi!”

“It always has to be a competition with you, Malfoy,” Harry huffed. “Come on, let’s see if Snape’s made lunch.” He stood, brushing grass off his trousers and shirt. He was wearing a grey Beatles t-shirt and some blue Levi’s. Malfoy had made sure to comment on the distinctly muggle attire within his first ten minutes of being there. He pushed his very wet fringe out of his eyes and held his hand out to help Malfoy up.

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment, mouth parted slightly, then, seeming to come to his senses, scowled at Harry and pushed his hand away, gracefully rising to his feet. Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Come on then.” He turned and began walking towards the house.

---

They ate lunch at the table with Snape, Harry staying mostly silent while Malfoy filled his godfather in on everything his mum and him had been doing in France. Harry had already heard most of it from Malfoy’s letters. Snape also informed Malfoy of his most recent potions projects and discussed some of the things they’d be learning in class for third year.

After lunch, Harry showed Malfoy the room he was staying in, and they spent a companiable afternoon reading and talking about the various homework assignments they’d completed already. Harry took the bed while Malfoy insisted on reading at Harry’s desk chair, ever the proper pureblood.

“Did you write that history essay on the witch burnings yet?” Harry said, breaking the silence.

“Mm?” Malfoy mumbled, flicking a page over before looking up. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t mind it too much. That Wendelin the Weird was at least entertaining to read about.” Harry laughed, softly.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Malfoy had brought over the wizarding novels he’d been talking about in his letters. Harry was currently on the first one, while Malfoy was on the fourth. He’d agreed to let Harry hang on to the first three so long as he gave them back to him once school started.

Spotting the radio beside his bed, Harry decided to switch it on. He turned the dial, tuning it until the needle settled on a station playing the UK top fifty charts. They were presently playing ‘In These Arms’ by Bon Jovi. Malfoy sat up straight and eyed the radio wearily.

“Potter is that a muggle radio?” he said. Harry hummed in agreement and laid back against the headboard, arms behind his head and eyes closed slightly.

“Why are you listening to a muggle radio?” he continued. Harry opened his eyes and gave Malfoy an appraising look.

“Because I like listening to music and it’s not like I can go to Diagon Alley to get a wizard’s one. Just give it a try. Some of the muggle stuff’s not so bad,” Harry replied. Malfoy looked sceptical but didn’t try to cast a reductor curse on the contraption, nor reach over and turn it off. Harry figured that was a success.

Eventually, the time came for Malfoy to take another portkey back to France. They said goodbye out front of the house. Harry was disappointed that Snape hadn’t allowed them into the village, since he’d wanted to show Malfoy the clothing shop he liked and confuse him with the small electronics shop, but he’d still had a good time. It’d been nice spending time with someone his own age for a change, and, although he missed Ron and Hermione, Malfoy was turning out to be surprisingly good company. They waved awkwardly to each other as the blonde took hold of a silver goblet and spun out of existence. Harry hope that they might be able to go into town if he visited again in late July or August.

---

Harry’s birthday was approaching as the summer weeks sped by. He was certain Snape had something small planned for the occasion, as whenever Harry would ask about it, Snape glared and changed the subject. As he descended the stairs on the morning of July 30^th, he heard a loud smash. He raced into the kitchen to see Snape sat at the table, a mug in pieces on the hardwood floor and a Daily Prophet grasped in his left hand. He was staring at the cover with a look of horror. Harry looked at him, alarmed.

“What?” he said nervously. That seemed to snap Snape out of whatever trance he was in. He looked up at Harry, face ashen.

“Sit down,” he said, laying the paper flat on the table. Harry sat, pulling it towards him.

Sirius Black Escapes Azkaban

Harry looked at the moving picture of the gaunt-faced man with matted black hair. He certainly looked the part of an escaped prisoner.

“Who’s Sirius Black,” he asked apprehensively, looking up at Snape’s stricken expression. Snape took a deep breath.

“Sirius Black,” he began, “Is the reason Lily’s dead.”

“What?” Harry breathed, wide-eyed. Snape launched into the story of Sirius’ murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles. He explained the Fidelius charm and the role of a secret keeper. He explained that, as the secret keeper, Black had betrayed Lily and James’ location to Voldemort. That he was a spy and one of The Dark Lord’s most dedicated followers. That he might be coming after Harry. By the end of it, Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

“So,” he whispered after some time, “Sirius Black was friends with my dad? At school?” Snape scoffed.

“Oh, yes. Him and Pettigrew and Lupin. Arrogant show-offs the lot of them.” Harry didn’t know who Lupin was, but he didn’t particularly care at this moment. He was also choosing to ignore Snape’s blatant slandering of his father. His anger against Black was building with every second, consuming his thoughts.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about him?” Harry asked, almost shaking with rage at this point.

“There are those,” Snape began, pausing, “who wish you to be sheltered from the harsher truths of reality. This is one of them. I believe it imprudent to keep such information from you, as you would surely have discovered it at some point regardless.” Harry nodded along.

“But, Harry,” Snape continued. “You must not make it known that you are aware of this information. There would be a lot of questions asked regarding where you found it out. I am telling you these things because I trust you to be mature about it. The headmaster believes you might go looking for Black. I can understand the temptation better than anyone, but, Harry, you must promise me you won’t. As angry as you may be at him, it would not be wise to seek out a man so dangerous. You are thirteen. The Azkaban guards will make sure he gets what’s coming to him.” Snape looked at him imploringly.

Harry felt some of his rage dissipate. He took great calming breaths and tried to ease the tension in his clenched fists.

“Okay,” he got out eventually. “I promise. You’re right. I wouldn’t know what to do even if I found him.” Snape looked satisfied at this, nodding. He reached out and closed his hand over one of Harry’s fists. Harry looked up at him, startled by the contact.

“I’m proud of your maturity, Harry. Lily would be proud,” he said softly. Harry felt his eyes burn and his throat constrict. He nodded at Snape, looking down at the table.

“I think I need to be alone for a bit,” Harry choked out eventually. Snape just nodded solemnly and withdrew his hand.

“Take the day off from your studies,” he said. Harry nodded and headed quickly upstairs, closing his door, and going straight for his bed. He turned on his muggle radio as loud as was polite and lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Would Black really come after him? What would he do if he did? After an hour or so, he decided on writing a letter to Malfoy about it. He figured he was the only one he’d be able to tell since he already knew of Harry’s living situation and would never share it.

Dear Malfoy,

I’m not sure if you’ve heard the news about Black yet. Snape explained who he is to me and a lot more that you probably don’t know.

Apparently, he was the one to give my parents’ location to Voldemort. He was my dad’s friend at school but betrayed them during the war. He’s the reason they’re dead. Snape thinks Black might come after me to finish the job.

  I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry at him, but I promised Snape I wouldn’t try to go looking for Black. He’s probably right that I shouldn’t but I just feel so helpless. I hate feeling like this.

Harry

He knew the letter was completely pathetic but couldn’t bring himself to care much. He gave it to Hedwig and sent her on her way. He at least felt somewhat better having written down his feelings.

---

His birthday the next day would have been a lot better if he hadn’t still been upset by the information about who Sirius Black was. Snape had organised for them to go into the village, and let Harry show him around all his favourite shops and cafes. He delighted in forcing Snape into the muggle vintage clothing shop, introducing him to the cashier.

The cashier seemed to find them very interesting, and she asked lots of questions about Snape’s line of work while he awkwardly gave muggle answers that only half made sense. They had lunch at Harry’s usual café, and many passers-by who’d gotten to know Harry over the last few weeks waved hello. Some even came over to chat with him and Snape. They all seemed very interested in his presence.

That morning he’d received presents from all his friends. He’d got news from Ron in Egypt, though he’d already seen the prophet a week prior and known he was there. Ron had gotten him a sneakoscope while Hermione had bought him a broom servicing kit. Snape had even gotten him something – a proper Wizard’s cloak that had all sorts of charms and enchantments on it to protect both it and the wearer. It was forest green with a beautiful silver clasp shaped like a snitch.

Snape told him that it was tradition for a parent to give their child a wizarding cloak on their thirteenth birthday, as it was the day that they became a teenager. Harry had teared up a little at that explanation and had to excuse himself to the bathroom until he was composed.

Best of all, Malfoy had responded to his letter and sent him a birthday present. He’d given Harry a wizarding radio, but one that he’d enchanted himself to tune into muggle stations as well as wizarding ones. Harry was ecstatic at this. The letter accompanying it was a more solemn affair.

Dear Potter,

Happy thirteenth, as I expect this letter will reach you by that time. I hope you’re having a good day considering the circumstances.  

It’s a bit of a shock to hear about what Black did. For the record I agree with Severus – you shouldn’t go after Black. Please don’t be a Gryffindor idiot about it and stay safe.

I can only imagine how hard it must be to hear what he did, and you have every right to feel angry at him. He did some horrible things, but he can’t touch you now. Severus will make sure you’re safe, and he won’t take away anything more from you or hurt you in any way.

Try not to worry about him too much. The Azkaban guards or the Aurors will catch him, and he’ll get what he deserves. You just stay out of trouble and enjoy your birthday. Don’t let him ruin that.

I hope you like my present. Even if you enjoy listening to muggle music you won’t be able to use your muggle radio at Hogwarts, so I got you this one instead. Now you can keep up with the Quidditch commentary. I enchanted it so you can still listen to your muggle music if you so desperately need to, but please try and learn about some wizarding bands too.  

No friend of mine will be an uncultured plebian. Have a good birthday scar-head. Stay safe.

  Draco.

Overall, his birthday was one of the best he’d had, minus his eleventh with Hagrid. It was pleasant and quiet but clouded slightly by the knowledge of Sirius Black being free.

---

The first two weeks of August passed in much the same way the rest of the summer had, apart from the fact that Harry was no longer permitted outside the wards or in the village without Snape’s company. With Sirius Black looking for him, it was too risky.

The problem of Harry visiting Diagon Alley for his school supplies was still unsolved. Eventually, Snape suggested that Harry write to Dumbledore about it, since the Weasleys couldn’t take him like they usually would.

He sent a letter the next day asking if he could make his own way to Diagon Alley or if someone would have to take him. The reply was as he and Snape had expected. Dumbledore informed him that an Auror would be dispatched to accompany him and would collect him from Privet Drive three days before the start of term. He then had permission to spend the remainder of his holidays at the Leaky Cauldron and would make his way to Kings Cross with the Weasleys.

Harry was alright with this arrangement, apart from the fact that he might not be able to visit Gringotts properly with an Auror tailing him.

Snape sent a letter forewarning the Dursleys of their arrival on the 29^th of August. They apparated directly into the living room that morning, to startled shrieks from his aunt and uncle. Harry had packed most of his things away in his trunk the night before, as he’d have to take it with him to avoid suspicion of him staying somewhere else for the summer.

He had quite a few more things than last year, with his birthday presents and all his new muggle clothes. Snape had performed a small undetectable extension charm on the trunk, but Harry had been happy to leave a few books and other things behind in his room. It was nice to know that he could leave things someplace other than Hogwarts now since he couldn’t risk Dudley breaking anything he left behind while he was at school. It was like he had a real home.

“I’ll see you at the start of term, Harry,” Snape said, after checking he had everything he needed. Harry grinned at him.

“Thanks, sir. For everything. This has been a really amazing summer.” Snape gave him a small smile at that.

“Don’t get into too much trouble over the next few days, and don’t leave Diagon. And don’t worry about Black. The Azkaban guards have got it under control,” Snape said. Harry nodded. “Also,” he continued, sighing. “I’m sorry to do this Harry but I can’t let you have the permission slip for Hogsmeade.” He held up a hand as Harry tried to protest.

“With Black still at large, the headmaster does not wish you to enter the village, and frankly, I agree. I will give you your permission slip if circumstances change, but I hope you can understand why this has to be done.” Harry nodded solemnly.

“Yeah, I understand. It’s okay,” he said morosely. Snape rolled his eyes a little at Harry’s dramatics.

“It’s just Hogsmeade weekends. You’ll get to go once Black is no longer at large,” he said. Harry nodded. “I’d best be off before the Auror arrives.” Harry looked up at him.

“Okay, see you at school sir,” he said, then, throwing caution to all logic, rushed forward and gave his professor a quick hug. Snape seemed startled at this but didn’t pull away or try to curse him.

“I hope you won’t become accustomed to such unbecoming displays of physical affection Mr Potter,” Snape said, pursing his lips. Harry grinned at him.

“Don’t worry sir, I won’t.” Snape gave him a smile and an eye roll then turned on the spot and vanished with a loud crack. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been watching the exchange with expressions of horror and disgust. They stared at Harry now, seemingly unsure what to make of him. He sneered at them.

“I’ll just be waiting down here until the person arrives to pick me up,” he told them cheerily. They glared at him.

“Fine,” Uncle Vernon said. “Just don’t cause any disturbances boy.” Harry smiled at them again, then sat down in an armchair, pulling one of his wizarding novels from his rucksack. He tried not to grin openly at the stricken look on his aunt’s face at the sight of the moving cover. He couldn’t believe he was getting away with reading a wizarding novel in the Dursleys' living room.

His aunt and uncle had already seemed shocked by his drastic change in appearance. He had proper clothes that fit him now. He was wearing grey jeans, a plain black long-sleeve shirt, his brown corduroy jacket, and his doc martins. Snape had also bought him a proper everyday wizarding robe, summer weight. It was pale blue. He took the time now to switch out of his muggle attire, shrugging off the jacket and fastening the robe over his clothes.

His aunt’s face went a shade paler as he did this, and she scampered from the room. He wanted to look like a proper wizard since it was his first time visiting the wizarding world in months. He also didn’t want to look like a muggle in front of an auror. They sounded intimidating. He read for several more minutes until he heard a crack and a knock on the door. He rushed to open it.

In the doorway was a woman who didn’t look at all like he’d expected an auror to look. She was very young, probably only a few years out of Hogwarts, and had bright pink hair. She grinned at him.

“Wotcha! Harry Potter, is it?”

“Uh, yes,” he replied. “Are you the auror escorting me?” She beamed at him.

“Aye, not a proper auror yet though. Still got one more year of training left. They often send us trainees on these types of things, especially in our final year. I’m Tonks by the way. Officially it’s Nymphadora Tonks or Auror Tonks, but that’s much too formal. You just call me Tonks.” Harry smiled at her. This day was probably going to be much more pleasant than he’d thought.

“Nice to meet you, Tonks. I’m Harry.” She laughed at that and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Pleased to meet you, Harry. Grab your things and let’s get going,” she said. He turned to grab his trunk. His aunt and uncle were in the doorway looking even more furious if that were possible. Uncle Vernon was red in the face and Petunia was milk-white.

“You must be Harry’s relatives then?” Tonks said pleasantly. Both Dursleys glared at her, and Harry thought he heard Uncle Vernon mutter something about delinquents with abnormally coloured hair. Harry picked up his things quickly and turned back to her.

“Um, yeah. Let’s get going,” he said, trying to get his trunk out of the door frame so he could shut it behind him.

---

They apparated directly into the Leaky Cauldron. Tonks levitated his things up the stairs and showed him which room he’d be staying in for the next few days.

“Right,” she said, once he was settled. “Let’s go do some Hogwarts shopping, aye?” Harry smiled at her.

“Sure! I’ve already got some money, so I probably don’t need to go to Gringotts yet. Are you going to be with me over the next few days?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Nah, got to get back to my training tomorrow. You’re free to wander as you please after today, I think they just wanted me to make sure you’d be alright your first day. But,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning in, “there’ll probably be an auror or two tailing you after today so best not get into trouble.” She winked. Harry smiled.

“Alright.” He figured that would be okay. An auror tailing him wouldn’t be able to accompany him into Gringotts so he would be free to access the Potter fault without being spied on.

They wandered through the alley together, collecting Harry’s new schoolbooks, potions supplies, and school robes. Harry was finding that he quite liked Tonks. She was energetic and funny and was never one for a boring conversation. She was incredibly clumsy, tripping or knocking things over almost everywhere they went, but he thought it was a kind of endearing part of her character.

While Harry was getting fitted for his new robes, she stood behind Madam Malkin, contorting her face into all kinds of strange expressions, and flashing rapidly through different hair colours. Harry had a hard time trying not to laugh. That was another thing he’d found out about her – she was a metamorphmagus. She’d told him after he asked about her hair, and then she had to explain what the term meant since he’d never heard of it.

By the end of the day, he had all but forgotten about his troubles with Sirius Black and was grinning happily. His ribs ached from all the laughing he’d been doing, and he was laden with heavy packages that contained his new school supplies. He was sad to say goodbye to her. She’d been very good company, and the day had been a nice change compared to the rest of his break. His summer had been great, but it’d been very quiet. It was fun to experience a livelier scene.

---

The next day Harry was finally able to visit Gringotts. He donned his wizarding attire and made his way up the main street towards the marble building.

“I’d like the access the Potter family vault,” he said to the Goblin at the front desk. He sneered at Harry.

“Your wand?” Harry presented his wand and consented to a basic set of charms to determine his eligibility to access the vault. When they were all successful, he was directed to follow a Goblin called Nagnok. After the terrifying underground cart ride, they arrived outside a very ancient-looking vault.

“The Potter family vault, Mr Potter,” Nagnok stated. “As my co-worker has told you, you may not remove funds from this vault until you come of age. Your trust vault is accessible to you should you desire monetary assets. You may remove or peruse family artifacts contained in this fault but may not liquefy any assets until such time as you are of age.” Harry nodded along to this.

“Thank you, Nagnok,” he said. The Goblin nodded at him, then raised his finger and unlocked the door. Harry stepped inside.

Within was one of the most spectacular sights Harry had ever seen. Mountains of gold littered the floor, while a variety of objects and furniture pieces lined the walls. He was delighted to spot ornate wooden cabinets and tables covered with south-Asian designs and artworks. There was even a beautiful tapestry containing embroidered Indian people attending a lavish event of some kind.

On the right was a large bookshelf, overflowing with ancient-looking tomes. Harry made his way over to it. It contained a mixture of every type of wizarding book imaginable. There were novels, textbooks, ancient scripts, and, most importantly, books on family history. Many of the titles on the shelf were in Hindi, but Harry was relieved to see that a majority were in English. Many looked to be late-medieval in origin.

He finally found what he was looking for – Potter Family Magic Traditions. Harry pulled it from the shelf eagerly, stuffing it into his rucksack.

He spent a fair amount of time looking over the other titles, taking a couple more that he was intrigued by. He also spent some more time perusing the family heirlooms, looking over both the British and Indian artifacts that had accumulated over the centuries. After about half an hour, he was satisfied and made his way with Nagnok back to the surface.

---

Alone in his room at The Leaky Cauldron, he laid out the book on family magics atop his bed. He was happy to see that it was mostly what he was expecting – traditional spells and rituals to be performed on the chief solar events. He was disappointed to see that many involved the participation of multiple family members, and so would not be possible for him to perform.

The spells seemed simple enough – basic charms to strengthen one’s magical core and ensure its stability across generations. Lughnasadh had already passed so it seemed the next opportunity he would have to test the spells would be Mabon on the 23^rd of September.

After absentmindedly perusing the rest of the books he’d collected from his vault, all of which were very interesting accounts of his family history, he decided to head back into the alley.

He bought lunch from a small bakery, and then made his way through a few wizarding clothes stores. Since he’d already replaced much of his muggle wardrobe, he figured he should have a little more variety in his wizarding one. He bought a pair of ethically sourced dragon-hide boots, a few pairs of wizarding robes in colours of green, red and grey, and purchased an ornate silver wristwatch that not only told him the time but where he was and how long it would take him to get to any destination of his choice.

He was feeling quite pleased with himself by the end of the day and looking forward to feeling like he properly fit in with the wizarding crowd the next time he visited the alley.

---

The next day was the final day of the holidays before term began. He donned his grey wizarding robes and his silver watch for the day but couldn’t bring himself to completely give up his muggle wardrobe, so also wore his doc martins and a worn band t-shirt for ‘The Smiths’ that he’d found in the vintage clothing shop on his birthday.

He thought the look was an appealing mix, and happily made his way out onto the high street. He wandered about for an hour, having a look at the Firebolt in Quality Quidditch Supplies around twelve when someone called his name.

“Harry! Harry!” He turned to see Ron and Hermione sitting at a table outside Florian Fortescue’s ice cream parlour. He waved and grinned at them. They both goggled at him as he approached.

“Blimey Harry,” Ron said as he sat down. “What’re you wearing?” Harry grinned.

“Thought I’d get some proper wizard’s clothes yesterday since I’ve never had the chance to go shopping for myself in Diagon before,” he explained. “And I owled the goblins at the start of summer to convert some wizard’s gold to muggle money for me. I escaped the Dursley’s long enough to go shopping at a muggle vintage clothing store.” He pulled his robes aside so that his friends could see his t-shirt.

“Ooh!” Hermione said. “My mum loves The Smiths! Do you know much of their music?” Harry shook his head, laughing.

“Nah, not really. I just liked the design and heard from the lady at the shop that they’re considered very cool. I’ve only been listening to the muggle radio, and I haven’t found a station that plays much of them.”

“Hm,” Hermione considered. “You’ll have to visit me and my parents during the holidays one time. They have a record player and they’ve got a lot of their albums on vinyl. You too Ron! Wizards don’t listen to nearly enough muggle music.” Harry grinned at her.

“That would be amazing Hermione!” he said, then turned to look at Ron. Ron’s expression was a sour one. Harry’s mood deflated immediately. He’d forgotten that Ron was often touchy when it came to talking about money and expensive possessions.

“Hm, yeah,” he said bitterly, not looking at them. Harry and Hermione exchanged a concerned look.

“How about we go find me an owl,” Hermione said after a moment. “I want to get one with the birthday money my parents got me.” They all agreed and soon they were heading over to the creature shop, happily discussing their summers. Ron kept giving Harry and his clothes affronted looks every now and then, but thankfully didn’t say anything.

After Hermione had bought Crookshanks, a distinctly non-owl creature, Harry distracted an annoyed Ron by telling him about Tonks, and their day together in Diagon Alley. This cheered him up greatly. Hermione joined in too, thinking that it was incredibly interesting to have met a metamorphmagus.

Harry had a very pleasant evening having dinner with the entire Weasley family, and, as he went to bed that night, thought about how much he was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts the next day.

Chapter Text

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered one of the last available carriages on the Hogwarts express to find a man fast asleep, slumped against the window. On his briefcase was the title Prof. R. J. Lupin. Harry stared at the words. He recognised that name. Lupin.

Snape had mentioned a ‘Lupin’ that’d been friends with his dad and Sirius Black. Was Lupin a common wizarding name? Was this the same Lupin? Harry thought he looked a little too old to be the same age his father would’ve been, but he was shaken nonetheless.

Harry spent some time filling both his friends in on the information he now had an excuse to tell them about; that Black was after him and that he’d betrayed Harry’s parents to Voldemort. Mr Weasley had told Harry Black was after him that morning. Harry figured he’d stretch the truth a little so that he could finally share what he’d been agonising over all holidays with his friends. He told them he’d overheard Molly and Arthur discussing Black’s betrayal of his parents. Not technically true, but believable enough. They were both shocked by the news and seemed worried that Harry wasn’t more concerned.

He'd had a whole month to get used to the information by this point, so had calmed down considerably since July 30^th. He was still angry of course, but his judgement was no longer clouded by his rage, and he wasn’t so much of an idiot to think he could take on a mass murderer single-handedly. Hermione and Ron seemed to think that he was that much of an idiot.

“Harry, I know how angry you must be but please don’t go looking for Black. The Azkaban guards will catch him. You’re only thirteen!” Hermione said. Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“I know Hermione. I’m not an idiot.” She seemed startled at that, spluttering through her next words.

“Well, yes. Uh of course. That’s very sensible Harry.” She seemed confused at his newfound sense of maturity. Ron was also confused, goggling at him from across the compartment.

“What? You don’t want revenge Harry?” he said.

“Ron!” Hermione shrieked. “Don’t encourage him.” Harry surveyed both of them. He was slightly hurt that they thought so little of him, but, then again, it was probably exactly the sort of thing he would’ve done when first hearing the news. It was only Snape’s watchful eye and calming, reasonable words that had stopped him rushing off to hunt down Black the minute he’d escaped.

“I’m not a child,” he said indignantly. “Of course, I’m angry at him but that doesn’t mean I’ll rush off to take on a mass murderer.” He glared at them, and they both looked down, avoiding his gaze.

“Of course, Harry,” Hermione said softly after a while. Harry sulked silently for the next half an hour while his friends tried to make conversation.

His bad mood was only broken when Draco Malfoy sauntered into the carriage with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Harry had to work very hard not to openly smile at him.

“Malfoy,” Ron sneered.

“Potty. Weasel,” Malfoy drawled, while Crabbe and Goyle stood menacingly behind him. Harry looked between them, nervously. He didn’t want Ron to give Malfoy an excuse to insult his family. Malfoy still wasn’t too fond of Ron, and Harry didn’t want to see him say something prejudiced for Crabbe and Goyle’s amusement. He’d been learning to keep his mouth shut about Ron’s family a little more over the last year, but Harry knew how quickly that could change, especially if he was trying to keep his cover with his cronies/personal bodyguards.

“If you want to have a go, Malfoy,” Harry smirked lazily, “I suggest we don’t do it in a compartment with a sleeping teacher.” He gave the boy a warning look. Malfoy seemed to get the message because he glanced quickly at Professor Lupin, then back up to Harry, sneering.

“Harry,” Hermione hissed disapprovingly, trying to pull on his arm. Harry ignored her.

“Well, well Potter. Finally got the nerve to face me, have you?”

“You bet he has,” Ron glared. Malfoy was still staring intently at Harry.

“You watch your back Malfoy,” Harry said, attempting a glare. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Come along boys,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle. “We’ll catch Potter when he doesn’t have a teacher babysitting him and his little friends.” They turned and left. Ron made to get up and go after them, but Hermione pulled him down.

“Really Harry, you shouldn’t provoke him like that,” she said. Harry smirked.

“Got him to leave, didn’t it?” he replied. Hermione frowned at him. Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

---

Harry met Malfoy’s gaze across the hall at the start of term feast that evening. He was still shaken from his confrontation with the dementor and was feeling a little queasy. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a slightly concerned look, then, still looking at him, performed a feinting impression for Crabbe and Goyle. Clearly, news of his fainting spell had travelled. Harry blushed, then gave Malfoy a short nod, trying to convey that he was alright.

He seemed satisfied by this, smiling slightly, and looking away, chattering to some of his fellow Slytherins. He turned back to see Ron looking at him.

“What’s up Harry?” he said.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. Ron glanced over at the Slytherin table, then huffed.

“Ugh, Malfoy again? Can’t the git lay off you?” Harry hummed in agreement and looked back down at his plate.

When Dumbledore introduced Professor Lupin as the new defence teacher, Harry became certain that this was the Lupin Snape had mentioned to him in passing. His potions professor was glaring daggers at the man, clearly enraged by his presence. Ron and Hermione seemed to think it was because Snape wanted his job, but Harry could tell it was more than that. Snape hadn’t even hated Lockhart as much as he seemed to hate Lupin. There seemed to be a lot of unpleasant history behind that glare.

That evening, once everyone else in his dorm had gone to bed, Harry pulled out a roll of parchment and hurriedly scrawled a note.

How about we arrange that duel you seemed to want so badly on the train? Eleven o clock this evening. Pick you up with the cloak from the Slytherin common room.

He passed the note to Hedwig who was still in the dormitory, not having had a chance to go up to the owlery yet. He told her to give it to one of the school owls to deliver to Malfoy at breakfast the next day. She hooted indignantly at this betrayal and swooped out of the open window with the note.

Feeling a little better about the day, he went to sleep.

---

As he expected, a brown owl delivered his note to Malfoy over breakfast. He watched the blonde take it out, read it quickly, snort slightly into his breakfast and look up at Harry. He gave Harry a menacing glare which Harry returned enthusiastically. He looked away after several moments, grinning to himself. Hermione and Ron kept asking him why he was in such a good mood all through the remainder of their meal. He shrugged them off each time.

Divination could not have gone worse in Harry’s opinion. He had to agree with Hermione in her opinion that professor Trelawny was a complete fraud. Care of Magical Creatures had been a lot better.

The class had been slightly terrifying, with Hippogriffs as their first ever lesson. Harry thought that Hagrid should have probably started with something a little easier. There’d been a tense moment where Malfoy had accidentally lost eye contact with his Hippogriff, the animal making menacing movements towards him before Hagrid had noticed what was going on and dragged it away.

The students were relieved once the lesson was finished, all of them still intimidated by the large, dangerous-looking creatures. Once they were out of the clearing, however, animated conversation broke out as people happily discussed the most exhilarating moments of the lesson, acting as though they were recounting tales of a medieval knight conquering a dragon.

Seamus Finnigan was having a lot of fun telling an awed Lavender and Parvati about the Hippogriff that had made moves at attacking him before he’d stared it into submission. They giggled privately to each other as he turned to Dean, smirking in satisfaction.

After lunch, the Gryffindors had Charms and Transfiguration. Harry was looking forward to some magic-based classes. He was feeling a lot more confident in his magic abilities than he had last year, due to both his heightened access to his magical power and his practice over the break. Snape had warned him not to be too indulgent in his lessons. At least, not immediately.

In transfiguration that afternoon, they had a practical review lesson. Harry was the only student apart from Hermione to perfectly perform the Reparifarge spell on his first attempt. He’d been practising it a lot over the summer, as he’d been struggling with it all last year. McGonagall treated him to a rare smile.

“Excellent, Mr Potter. Really Excellent. I’m glad to see you’ve been doing your summer readings and revision. May I congratulate you on your improvement from last term. I’m very proud to see that you took it in your stride to work hard on improving in something you found difficult. Let’s see. Twenty points to Gryffindor, Mr Potter. I hope I’ll see more of your hard work show throughout this year. And ten points to you as well Miss Granger,” she added.

Harry felt himself glow with pride. Such high praise from McGonagall was not handed out lightly. Beside him, Hermione was fuming. Despite her house points, she seemed highly insulted at having her good work mostly ignored. She gave Harry a strained smile in congratulations but didn’t speak to him for the rest of the lesson.

Ron looked shocked. He stared at Harry, mouth hanging open until McGonagall scolded him for not doing his work. At the end of the lesson, Hermione made an excuse about going to the library and hurried off. Ron rounded on Harry.

“Mate, what was that?” Harry looked at him in amusement.

“What?” he asked.

“You were rubbish at that spell last year,” Ron said, in a slightly rude tone. Harry scowled at him.

“Like McGonagall said. I did a lot of reading over the break and some practice on it after you lot went to bed last night. Figured McGonigal might test it,” he said. Ron eyed him suspiciously. Harry’s good mood rapidly deflated.

“Go ask Hermione to help you with it if you’re gonna be like that Ron,” he snapped. “I don’t see why it’s so suspicious for me to want to put more effort into my studies.” He turned around and started walking away, catching up with Neville a little way down the corridor.

“Hi, Harry!” Neville said brightly. “Congratulations on that spell in class today. I’ve never seen McGonagall so pleased before, even with some of Hermione’s work.” Harry gave him a small smile, Ron’s comment still on his mind.

“Thanks, Nev,” he said.

“Do you think you could show me when we get back to the common room? I’ve never been able to get the hang of it, even during exam revision last year,” Neville went on. Harry’s mood brightened slightly at this.

“Sure,” he smiled.

“Thanks!” Neville beamed. Then, his smile fell slightly. “You okay Harry?” He glanced back at Ron.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “It’s fine. Ron and Hermione are just being weird.” Neville frowned.

“They’ll come around. Probably just a little shocked. You know how Hermione is with always needing to be the best in the class. She might just need time to adjust,” he said reasonably.

“Yeah, probably,” Harry said, giving him another half-hearted smile. He liked Neville, but he wasn’t the same as Ron. “Come on, let’s grab dinner and start on that revision.”

They spent a very pleasant couple of hours revising together in the common room. Harry was enjoying Neville’s company much more than he’d thought he would. The boy was still shy and lacked a lot of confidence, but he was really trying his best with the spell, and Harry admired his determination.

Spending time alone with him was also making him realise that Neville was very easy to get along with. Sure, he didn’t have Ron’s witty sense of humour or Hermione’s accidentally-amusing sarcastic comments, but he was quietly funny in his own way. He preferred a more subtle approach to comedy, and Harry found himself pleasantly surprised by some of the jokes Neville had subtly let slip when he’d been least expecting them. It turned out that when he wasn’t surrounded by multiple people, he was a lot more at ease in his social interactions.

He vowed to try and include Neville more with him, Ron, and Hermione, thinking that Neville’s confidence might benefit from a more proactive sense of inclusion.

Harry demonstrated the spell a couple more times for Neville, then watched as he tried to perform it. After several tries, Harry figured out that Neville’s pronunciation was slightly off, and did his best to help correct it. By the end of an hour, Neville was performing the spell in a reasonably competent manner, only failing once every ten tries.

Harry beamed at him as he cast correctly once more.

“That’s great Nev!” Harry said enthusiastically. “Wow, you’ve really gotten the hang of it.” Neville grinned at him and lowered his wand.

“I think so too! I can’t believe I’ve been pronouncing wrong this entire time! Thank you so much Harry,” he said. Harry clapped him on the back.

“It’s all you Neville. You had it in you the whole time.” Neville shook his head.

“You’re a really excellent teacher Harry. I wouldn’t have been able to figure this out if you hadn’t helped. I normally ask Hermione for help with this stuff but… well…” he looked away and blushed a little, “she often gets frustrated with me after a while.”

“Well, you can come to me for help anytime Nev. Honestly, I found this whole teaching thing surprisingly fun,” Harry said with a smile.

“Maybe you should replace McGonagall Harry,” Neville sniggered. Harry smiled abashedly and punched Neville lightly on his arm.

“Don’t make people start thinking I’m a nerd,” he said. Neville laughed. At that moment, Ron and Hermione walked through the portrait hole. Harry was still in a remarkably good mood from his evening with Neville and momentarily forgot his friendship troubles. He waved at them from across the common room, gesturing for them to sit down.

They looked at each other, seemingly startled by Harry’s enthusiastic mood, and made their way shiftily over to them, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“Um, hey,” Harry said awkwardly, feeling a little less optimistic about the situation now.

“Hi, Harry. Neville,” Hermione greeted politely. Neville and Harry glanced at one another.

“You guys gonna sit down?” Neville asked. Harry was still irritated by his friend’s actions but couldn’t bring himself to feel angry anymore. He figured they’d get over themselves. It still stung, but Neville was right. It was probably just their own issues that they were working through right now.

Hermione and Ron sat gingerly on the carpet beside them.

“So,” Hermione began again, “What’ve you been doing this evening?” Harry appreciated the effort to mend the awkwardness, but the question she had asked was definitely the wrong question if she had Ron were trying to get over some sort of weird jealously thing. Harry and Neville glanced at one another.

“Just doing some Transfiguration practice,” Harry answered awkwardly.

“Look Harry,” Ron said suddenly. “Sorry about what I said before, yeah?” He tried to give Harry an apologetic sort of grin. “Was just a bit surprised and all. You know if you start caring about work as much as Hermione does, I’ll never escape the library.” Harry gave him a small smile.

“Don’t worry Ron. It’s fine. Sorry for snapping at you,”

“So… we okay?” Ron asked tentatively.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, feeling that he’d rather forget about this whole thing than force Ron into making a proper apology. His attempt wasn’t too bad, but emotional intelligence was definitely not one of Ron’s strongest areas. Ron clapped him on the back. “I’m gonna get started on my Care of Magical Creatures homework,” he offered to the group.

“Great!” Neville said enthusiastically. “I’ll do that too.” Harry very much appreciated Neville’s attempts to ease the awkwardness of the situation. Harry smiled at him.

“Cool,” Ron said. “Me too then. Hermione?” They looked at Hermione.

“Oh, I’d better do my Arithmancy work,” Hermione said. Ron looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“But how can you have Arithmancy work yet? We’ve been with you all day?” Ron said. Harry and Neville looked at Hermione curiously and she blushed.

“Well, I’m taking a lot more classes than you Ron, aren’t I.”

“But-”

Hermione refused to answer any more questions about her classes, so they all set to work on their respective assignments. They went up to bed at around ten. Harry decided that he’d have to be more subtle about his improved wand work from thereon. It was probably very suspicious for there to be such a drastic change in his performance. He didn’t want people asking too many questions.

Harry laid awake, invisibility cloak clutched to his chest and his hangings drawn. At around quarter to eleven, he stealthily made his way from the dorm and down to the dungeons. Right on time, Malfoy emerged from the sliding wall and stood expectantly with his arms folded on his chest, waiting for Harry to appear.

Harry snuck towards the boy, then threw the cloak over them both, startling Malfoy.

“Must you, Potter?” Malfoy scoffed. Harry sniggered. They made their way as silently as they could to an empty classroom. This ended up being not very silent at all because of Malfoy’s constant snarks and complaints about their proximity. They’d both grown a fair amount over the summer, Malfoy especially, who was now a good four inches taller than him, much to Harry’s annoyance. As such, it was becoming harder to comfortably fit them both under the cloak.

“Stop letter your grubby Gryffindor hand touch my hair potter I just washed it,” Malfoy sneered while Harry was attempting to hold the cloak in place above them. Just to be annoying, Harry used the hand hovering near Malfoy’s head to completely mess up his hair, ruffling it like he was petting a dog. Malfoy quietly squawked in indignance and tried to duck away, not getting very far because of the cloak.

“What?” Harry sniggered. “You used to like your hair being all greasy and slicked back.” Malfoy kicked him.

“Ow!” Harry protested.

“I happen to have changed my mind on it,” Malfoy hissed. “You are such an arrogant, annoying, completely insufferable-”

Harry kicked Malfoy hard in the leg to stop him from talking.

“Ow! What was that-” but Harry clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Shut. Up,” Harry frantically whispered. Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, looking around suspiciously with his wand tip lit. They both froze. Snape turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. Malfoy kicked Harry in the leg again and Harry tripped, stumbling forward.

Malfoy grabbed his arm, and they ran in the opposite direction, finding an empty room which they stumbled breathlessly into, Harry shutting and warding the door. They were both laughing, and Harry’s ribs ached from the effort of trying to keep himself silent until they’d silenced the door. Harry slumped against the wall and slid down it, holding his ribs as a giggled uncontrollably.

Malfoy got a hold of himself first. He attempted a scowl, but he was still grinning broadly, so it lost much of its desired effect. Malfoy’s hair was sticking up at all angles and falling into his eyes. Harry admired his handiwork, sniggering. Malfoy seemed to realise what he was staring at because he blushed slightly, then made to quickly smooth down the mess Harry had made.

Malfoy sighed, sliding down to the floor, and laying with his arms behind his head and his legs bent at the knee.

“So,” he said eventually. “Are we gonna have that duel?” Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“What, you gonna hit me with another aguamenti, Malfoy?” Harry said sarcastically. Malfoy raised his head and eyed Harry disapprovingly.

“Knew you were too scared,” he said. Harry cast a quick stinging hex at him. Malfoy yelped and rolled over, glaring at Harry, who just smirked.

“Shut up and stop being such a competitive prat,” Harry said exasperatedly. Malfoy sat up and glared at him. Harry ignored him. “What electives are you taking again?” he asked, trying to change the subject. Malfoy slumped back to the floor.

“Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy,” he replied. “Did you really take divination Potter?”

“Yeah,” Harry groaned. “I had class today and it was awful. Professor Trelawny spent the whole lesson predicting my untimely death. What’s Arithmancy like?”

“Pretty cool actually,” Malfoy replied brightly. “It’s about the relationship between magic and numbers, so it’s useful for inventing spells and enchantments. It’d be incredible to invent a new spell I reckon.” Harry let his fall back against the wall.

“Ugh, why didn’t anyone tell me that?” he groaned. “I’d rather do anything but divination. Even ancient runes and I’ve always been rubbish at languages. I was awful at French when we did it in primary school. Would it be too late to swap?” Malfoy pursed his lips and considered.

“You’d have to talk to McGonagall. You don’t have a textbook, but I suppose you can owl order. The class isn’t very big so no need to worry about space. Mostly Ravenclaws,” he said.

“Yeah maybe,” Harry hummed. “Ron will be so annoyed at me for ditching him with Trelawny though,” Harry said bitterly. Malfoy shrugged.

“You can take a maximum of three subjects. Maybe pick it up and ease Ron into the idea of you dropping Divination.” Harry pondered this solution for a moment.

“That sounds like a good plan, actually. I’ll try and talk to McGonagall tomorrow.” Malfoy smirked at him.

“You’re welcome for my eternal wisdom and advice oh chosen one,” he drawled. Harry grinned and cast a lazy stinging hex which Malfoy avoided.  

“Shut up,” he said.

---

He caught McGonagall before breakfast early the next day.

“Professor!” He called as a spotted her at the end of the corridor, running towards her. She turned and fixed him with a stern look.

“What is it, Potter?”

“I wanted to talk to you about my elective choices,” he said quickly. McGonagall surveyed him suspiciously, making him squirm under her piercing gaze.

“I assume this will not take long?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry shook his head. “Well then. What is it you wish to discuss?” Harry fidgeted nervously.

“Um, I was wondering if I could pick up Arithmancy. I know term’s already started but I’m not so sure on divination anymore so I want to have the option to drop it later if I need to,” he said in a rush. She raised an eyebrow. Harry remembered her lecture on divination during yesterday’s lesson and realised he’d probably done a very good job of persuading her. She wouldn’t object to him wanting to drop the subject.

“Very well Mr Potter. I will discuss the issue with Professor Vector over the weekend. I shall send word when a decision is reached.” Harry grinned at her.

“Thanks, professor,” he said. She tutted.

“Run along to breakfast, Potter.”

---  

Harry didn’t tell Ron and Hermione about arithmancy at breakfast that morning in case the request was denied. He also was much more careful that day to somewhat downplay his magical abilities and the outcome of his hours of holiday revision.

The one subject he refused to downplay his skills in, however, was potions. Harry had been looking forward to their first potions lesson for weeks. He wanted to make Snape proud in a proper classroom environment, rather than a one-on-one lesson. He also wanted to give Snape no excuses to criticize him in class – an occurrence that had never before taken place.

Before he’d left for Diagon Alley at the end of the holidays, Snape had assured him that he would still be favouriting his Slytherins but would attempt to target Harry less individually. Harry agreed to the compromise, on the condition that Snape award him a single house point during their first lesson back if Harry beat both Hermione and Malfoy to the top spot in the class. Snape had bitterly agreed, only because Harry had threatened to act kindly towards him during class time if he refused.

It was this compromise that caused him to be practically bouncing around the corridors on his way to potions that afternoon. Ron and Hermione were giving him alarmed looks, glancing secretively at each other as though they thought he’d gone insane.

“Harry, mate,” Ron said. “You realise our next class is double potions… right?” Harry grinned.

“Yeah. Course,” he replied. Ron made some helpless gesture with his arms.

“Did something happen today, Harry?” Hermione asked with a frown. “You’re normally miserable about attending potions.” Harry shook his head, still smiling.

“Nope. Just looking forward to seeing Snape’s face when I put to use all my summer revision,” he smirked. Ron and Hermione exchanged another confused look but didn’t press the matter.

He took a seat next to Neville that lesson, a choice which had Snape frowning at him disapprovingly. Harry gave Snape a half-hearted glare for old times’ sake but couldn’t help the small twitching at the corners of his mouth. He saw the amusement in Snape’s eyes at this.

Thankfully, they were brewing their potions individually today, a fact Harry had already known from Snape telling him that summer. As was expected, Snape set them a completely unfamiliar and extremely difficult potion for their first lesson, a Confusing Concoction.

Harry got to work immediately, collecting his ingredients as quickly and carefully as he could, writing out the instructions from the blackboard neatly on some parchment, and laying out his equipment carefully and orderly. These were all skills Snape had emphasized with him over the summer. He was probably being the most careful and concentrated he’d ever been in a potions environment, not just at Hogwarts but in his lessons with Snape too.

Neville kept looking over at him in silent awe and admiration. Malfoy and Hermione respectively were giving him worried looks from the back of the class. Harry chopped and ground and peeled his ingredients carefully, making sure to stir his potion the correct number of times and cast tempus charms to check his progress. He found it was a lot easier to remember which ingredients to add when and where when he understood the distinct properties of said ingredients that contributed to the potion’s outcome.

By the end of the class, as he’d expected, there were only three cauldrons in the room that were distinctly lime green. Malfoy and Hermione both glared at Harry as Snape swept dramatically through the room surveying potions. Snape finally reached his cauldron and Harry held his breath.

“The distinct glossy sheen over this potion is as to be expected,” Snape muttered bitterly, not even looking at Harry. “Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy you would do well to notice the slight difference. Clearly, you were imprecise in your timing of adding the sneezewort.” Hermione goggled at Harry, looking like she was going to burst into tears. Many of the class were looking at Harry in confusion and surprise. Harry smirked to himself, unable to keep the glee from his face.

He looked up at Snape expectantly, smiling broadly. Snape glared at him fiercely. Anyone else under such a look would probably have been cowering under their desk, but Harry held eye contact, knowing it was mostly for show and that his professor was secretly proud.

“One. Point. To. Gryffindor,” he ground out through clenched teeth, still glaring at Harry. He turned suddenly and swept away, robes billowing behind him. Harry heard Malfoy burst into a coughing fit at the back of the room. Hermione Gasped. Ron looked like he’d been told Christmas was three months earlier that year.

As they filed out of the room the Gryffindors crowded around Harry excitedly.

“Did you see his face!” Seamus said excitedly.

“Bloody brilliant Harry,” Dean said, clapping him on the back.

“Mate, I will gladly put up with you looking forward to potions class if I get to witness that again,” Ron said, grinning and throwing an arm over Harry’s shoulder. Harry grinned back, laughing. Hermione was the only one who didn’t seem amused.

“But Harry,” she said seriously. “How on earth did you do that? Even my potion didn’t have a glossy sheen. There’s just no way you could have accomplished that from holiday readings.” Harry glared at her, slightly annoyed by her superior attitude.

“Well, I just did Hermione,” he said. “Either be happy for me or leave me alone.” She huffed and folded her arms indignantly.

“I’m going to figure out what you did Harry. If you cheated, I’m going straight to McGonagall.” She stormed off towards the library. Ron sighed, while the other Gryffindors looked alarmed.

“Don’t worry about her Harry,” Ron said. “Let’s celebrate! You’re probably the only Gryffindor in the history of the school to earn a house point in one of Snape’s classes.”

Chapter Text

McGonagall sent word on Sunday that he had permission to attend Arithmancy lessons. An owl arrived over breakfast with an updated timetable and a note explaining he could borrow a spare textbook from the library and was to speak to her if he had any questions. He could tell by the tone she was hoping he’d drop divination.

“What’s that, Harry?” Ron said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Harry looked up at him and Hermione, a little nervously.

“A note from McGonagall,” he replied. They both looked confused, and he went on. “Um, I was gonna tell you when I got confirmation, but I’ve decided to pick up Arithmancy last minute.” Ron dropped his fork.

“Oh, that’s brilliant Harry!” Hermione said, grinning broadly. “It’ll be so nice to have another Gryffindor in the class.” Harry smiled back. Ron had finally managed to swallow.

“What!” he practically yelled. Harry winced. “What’re you doing that for? You already take two electives.”

“Uh, yeah. Well. I just wanted to have another option available in case divination doesn’t pan out. And arithmancy sounds kind of cool. Alicia was explaining it to me the other day in the common room and I think it’ll be more interesting than Trelawny’s stuff. Plus, I don’t fancy having my death predicted for the rest of the school year,” he grimaced.

“That’s very sensible of you Harry,” Hermione smiled. Ron frowned.

“But, what? You’re just ditching us?” he said.

“No, I haven’t even decided to drop divination yet Ron,” Harry said, slightly annoyed. “It’s not that big of a deal having three electives. Loads of people do.”

“Yeah, Ravenclaws,” Ron muttered. Harry rolled his eyes. Ron took another bite, pondering. “Well, at least Hermione will have someone to pester about the homework that’s not me,” he eventually added in a brighter tone. “No offence Hermione, I just don’t understand all the numbers.” Hermione scoffed at him.

“Sure mate,” Harry laughed.

---

It just so happened that Arithmancy was that Monday. Harry made his way to the classroom alone after lunch, as Hermione had been in the library. He was running a little late, having gotten lost, and entered to find her already sitting down next to Susan Bones. She gave him an apologetic look as he entered.

“Assigned seating,” she mouthed at him across the room. He nodded solemnly.

“Ah, Mr Potter!” Professor Vector greeted. “Lovely to have you join our class, if only a lesson late,” she smiled. Harry smiled back politely.

“Sorry. Bit of a last-minute decision professor,” he grinned apologetically.

“Not to worry, not to worry. As you may have gathered Mr Potter, I like to mix up the seating in this class – inter-house unity and all that. I find it’s quite beneficial in such a small subject cohort,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Now, how about you take that chair next to Mr Malfoy, hm? I’m sure you’re capable of being very good friends off the quidditch pitch.”

The entire class stiffened and looked between Harry and Malfoy with stricken expressions. Hermione stared at Harry with a look of pity. Malfoy was scowling and Harry had to try very hard not to laugh or smile. He was honestly relieved. This class might be more fun than he’d originally thought it’d be, having an excuse to sit next to Malfoy. Professor Vector seemed not to notice the tension in the room.

Harry put on his best show of shocked horror, glaring dramatically at Malfoy, and begrudgingly taking the seat next to him, scooting his chair as far away as possible. Malfoy did the same. They both glared heatedly into each other’s eyes, but Harry could see the amusement dancing in his grey irises. He had to look away for risk of breaking the act.

“Potter,” Malfoy sneered loudly.

“Malfoy,” Harry bit. Others in the class looked nervous. Vector ignored them and began explaining the lesson. Once everyone’s attention was successfully diverted, Harry shuffled his chair back towards Malfoy inconspicuously and gave him a mischievous smile, which was returned.

They spent the rest of the class coming up with wilder and more absurd insults to exchange between Professor Vector’s explanations and tasks, much to Hermione’s and most of the class’ concern. Harry was finding the work very interesting. He thought that Vector was a fairly engaging teacher, and he could already see endless opportunities for some of the basic concepts in more complex spell work. When the class ended, he and Malfoy made a show of getting into a small scuffle and each storming out of the room.

“You okay Harry?” Hermione asked nervously once she’d caught up to him in the corridor.

“Fine,” he replied, probably a little too cheerfully. She eyed him suspiciously but didn’t say anything else.

---

Even more enjoyable than the Arithmancy lesson was their first Defence against the Dark Arts class with Professor Lupin. Harry was excited to find out what he was like, suspecting that he may have known his parents.

“Good afternoon,” Lupin said. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.”

The lesson on Bogarts was not only far more interesting than any defence lesson they’d ever had, but also far more comedic. Harry felt a little bad for Snape being humiliated in such a way but as his professor was Neville’s greatest fear, he should’ve probably been a little nicer to the boy.

The only disconcerting thing about the class was that Lupin hadn’t allowed him to face the boggart himself. Did he think Harry that incompetent? He decided that he’d have to ask him about it in his eventual confrontation with him about knowing his parents.

---

Another thing Harry had to worry about was Mabon, which was coming up on the 24^th of September. He’d been revising the spells from his family history book with Malfoy on occasional evenings and was feeling nervous about performing them for the first time. Luckily, it landed on a Friday, so Harry didn’t have to worry too much about being sleep-deprived the next morning.

He didn’t want to arouse too much suspicion and so decided to simply celebrate in the confines of his bed hangings that afternoon. He went up to the dorm early after realising there was a match between the Harpies and the Magpies playing. He’d decided to choose the Harpies as his team since it was located the closest to Cokeworth where Snape had told him his mother had grown up. He wasn’t sure exactly where Godrick’s hollow was located, and he definitely didn’t want to act as though Little Winging was his home, so Cokeworth seemed like the best option. As far as he was aware, Snape’s current house was also located in the southeast of Wales, making the Harpies the local team in that case too.

He laid on his back and stared up at the scarlet hangings, allowing the commentary to wash over him.

“Captain Jones hits chaser Fernsby with a well-aimed bludger to the shoulder. She drops the quaffle and it’s caught by Harpies chaser Dankworth. Dankworth headed for goal with Griffiths and Birdwhistle beside her in triangle formation. Dankworth dodges bludger from beater Ajax and- what’s this! Has Magpie’s seeker Campbell’s seen the snitch? He’s heading for the Eastern stands. Harpies’ Quill has certainly noticed and she’s off in pursuit of Campbell, quickly gaining on Campbell as they both turn to a steep dive.”

Harry sat up and stared at the radio.

“Quill rolls out of the way of Ajax’s bludger, but it’s turned out to be in her favour! Snitch turns to the right suddenly with Quill now in the lead!”

The door to the dormitory burst open abruptly, Ron and Seamus walking in laughing. They stopped when they heard the radio.

“Shh!” Harry waved at them. They both walked over to Harry’s bed, Seamus bouncing excitedly onto the mattress.

“C’mon Quill!” Seamus shouted after hearing a few lines of the commentary.

“Quill continues to lead the chase. Another bludger this time from Jones almost hits Campbell but he ducks and- that’s it! Quill’s got the snitch everyone! Harpies win 290 to 180!”

Harry and Seamus both whooped excitedly.

“That’s just put the Kestrels in favour to beat the Magpie’s for the cup!” Seamus said. Harry grinned.

“Hey! Harpies are still in there too. You’ll have to beat them by at least one-hundred and ninety.” Seamus waved a hand dismissively.

“Didn’t know you went for the Harpies, Harry,” Seamus said.

“Yeah, when’d you start rooting for them, Harry?” Ron said. “Thought you were a cannons supporter like me?” He frowned slightly. Harry looked back at him.

“Well I decided to pick a team over the summer and the Harpies are near where my mum grew up,” he replied.

“And where’d ya get the radio, Harry?” Seamus went on excitedly, ignoring Ron. “Can I borrow it for the Kestrel’s match next week?” Harry grinned and patted Seamus on the back.

“Course you can. Happy to share. I got it in Diagon those few days I was stuck there before term started. You need it for any Cannons matches coming up Ron?” he said, turning to face him. Ron gave him a small smile.

“The Cannons are playing the Harpies in two weeks so around then probably if that’s alright?”

“Of course! We can listen together.” Harry picked up the radio and turned it off.

“Well, I’m off to bed lads,” Seamus said cheerily, bouncing off Harry’s bed. He crossed the room and drew his curtains. Harry turned to Ron. Ron was eyeing the radio.

“Uh aren’t those really expensive? I think my brother Bill has one, but he took it with him to Egypt,” he said. Harry shrugged awkwardly.

“I mean, yeah, but I thought I’d buy myself a late birthday present since I didn’t have much else to do those few days in Diagon. You know you can borrow it anytime though, yeah? Just let me know. I don’t mind.” Ron smiled at that.

“Thanks, mate, yeah that’d be great.” Harry smiled back.

“No worries.” He really hoped Ron would get over his obsession with money sometime soon. He knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but it was getting a little frustrating having to be careful in not displaying his wealth. Why shouldn’t he treat himself occasionally? If Ron would rather have dead parents in exchange for a large fortune of gold, that wasn’t his problem. With that souring thought and drop in his mood, Harry closed his bed curtains and warded them.

He turned on the radio again, softly, and turned the dials until he found a muggle music station.

He waited until all the other boys were asleep that night before taking out his wand and the Potter family magicks book. When his tempus charm read midnight, he began to perform the series of spells he’d been practising since the end of summer. At first, he couldn’t feel much change, but eventually, he started a feel a small buzz of energy in his magic.

His skin vibrated slightly with it, as though he had mild pins and needles all over him, and his heart rate quickened. When he’d finished, he was vibrating with all the magic. He no longer felt at all tired.

Was this what it was supposed to always feel like? He figured he might be having such an extreme reaction on this occasion because it was the first time the charms had been performed in a long time. In the books he’d read on the subject it seemed you were mostly not supposed to notice the change. He hoped it’d get better after this because he wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight with his magic buzzing insistently beneath his skin like this.

---

Harry had been unable to talk to Lupin alone so far. The man seemed to keep to himself mostly, and the defence classes with the third years were never before meal or break times, but always directly before another class. He thought about just going to visit his office but felt that might be a little too direct. Harry had never met him before of course and he’d probably be busy marking or planning lessons.

Harry’s chance finally arrived on the first Hogsmeade weekend, which Harry was banned from going to. He didn’t put up too much of a fuss, knowing why Snape hadn’t allowed him permission, but still felt awfully excluded when every other third-year left that morning.

He was walking aimlessly through the corridors trying to work out what he’d do with his day when someone called his name.

“Harry?” He turned to see Professor Lupin looking out of his office door. “What are you doing? Where are Ron and Hermione?”

“Hogsmeade,” Harry replied. “Um, I wanted to speak to you actually professor.” Lupin smiled.

“Well, I was just about to invite you in for tea, so that would be an excellent idea. Would you like to see the Grindylow I bought for our next lesson?” Harry grinned.

“That would be great, sir. I read about them over the holidays.” Lupin smiled back and ushered him inside. Harry took a seat.

“So, apart from looking at my Grindylow, what did you need to talk to me about?”

“A couple of things actually,” Harry replied, glancing at the tank with the water demon. “Well, um, firstly I wanted to ask about the first defence class we had.” He looked up nervously. Lupin gave him a kind smile and poured him a cup of tea.

“The boggart?” Lupin enquired.

“Um, yes. I wanted to know why you didn’t let me fight it.” Lupin raised his eyebrows.

“I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort, Harry. Naturally, the sight of a fully returned Voldemort in the middle of the classroom would have caused a panic.”

“Oh,” Harry said, looking down and feeling a little silly for not realising this. “Well, yeah I did think of Voldemort at first but then I remembered the dementor on the train.”

“Ah,” Lupin replied. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is — fear. Very wise, Harry.” Harry chuckled a little at that in surprise.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” he said over the rim of his teacup.

“And what else did you want to ask?”

“Um,” Harry shifted, avoiding Lupin’s gaze. “I wanted to ask whether you knew my parents. I got the impression you were friends with my father.” Lupin raised his eyebrows again at that and coughed.

“I- yes Harry. I knew your parents in school.” Harry looked up excitedly at that. They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” called Lupin. The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped in surprise at the sight of Harry.

“Ah, Severus,” said Lupin, smiling. “Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?” Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.

“Mr Potter,” he said. Harry gave him a nervous smile.

“Hi sir,” he said. “Professor Lupin was just showing me his Grindylow.” Snape narrowed his eyes and sent a suspicious look at Lupin.

“Fascinating,” said Snape, without looking at it. “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”

“Yes, Yes, I will,” said Lupin. Snape nodded and left the room warily.

“So, you were friends with my dad and Black in Gryffindor?” Harry went on hurriedly as soon as Snape had closed the door. Lupin paled.

“Uh yes, Harry. They were my dorm mates and friends. I must say I’m surprised you know this much. Who told you I was friends with them?” Harry shifted awkwardly.

“Oh. Well, I kind of worked it out mostly. Professor Snape mentioned your name in passing when he told me about Black and how he betrayed my parents. He sounded like he didn’t like you much because you were friends with my dad. Then I met you and thought you might be the same Lupin he’d mentioned but I wasn’t sure until I saw Snape glaring at you at the feast and realised that if he hated you this much already it was probably because you were the Lupin he’d talked about.” Harry blushed, feeling he’d said way more than he was supposed to. Lupin gave him a calculating look.

“You are close with Professor Snape then, Harry?” he said apprehensively.

“I guess. Not at first. We used to not like each other very much but at the end of last year he told me a bit about my mum and…” Harry paused. He really shouldn’t trust Professor Lupin to not go to Dumbledore about what Snape had done, especially if the man didn’t like him. But then, if he’d been close with his parents, maybe he’d known Aunt Petunia. “Did you ever meet my mum’s sister Petunia?” he said eventually. Lupin’s expression darkened.

“Yes, I did have the displeasure on one occasion,” he scowled.

“Well… um, did you know that Dumbledore sent me to live with them? When I was a baby?” Lupin started at this.

“He- what? But Lily expressly- Harry, she stated directly against that in her will,” he breathed, eyes wide. Harry swallowed.

“Oh. Um, I didn’t- I didn’t know, Professor.” They looked at each other awkwardly until Lupin seemed to get a hold of himself.

“What were you about to say Harry?” he continued. Harry took a breath.

“Professor Snape allowed me to live with him over the summer when he found out I was living with my aunt and uncle. Please don’t tell Professor Dumbledore sir, I wouldn’t want to get Professor Snape in trouble,” Harry said in a rush, wringing his hands on top of his knees. Lupin took a deep breath at that and pursed his lips. He placed a gentle hand on top of Harry’s.

“Of course, I won’t say anything Harry. If I had known- I have had rather little contact with the wizarding world until this year you see. I feel I must apologise to you for that. It’s been very difficult for me since your parents and Sirius-” he stopped and looked away, clearing his throat.

“Well, Harry, I’d better get back to work. See you at the feast later.”

“Right,” said Harry, putting down his empty teacup. “Sir, could you tell me a bit about my parents sometime? I know about my mum of course from Professor Snape but he doesn’t like mentioning my dad and I don’t know much about him. My aunt and uncle didn’t even tell me that they were magic until I got my letter and not many people at school like to talk about them. Of course, if it’s too difficult to talk about…” he trailed off. Lupin gave him a smile.

“You can speak to me any time, Harry. I would love to tell you a bit about James. And Lily of course, though I knew her better during our later years at Hogwarts when we were both prefects.” Harry stood up and grinned.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll see you at the feast then.” Lupin nodded politely.

“Take care, Harry.”

---

The Halloween feast ended with the news of Sirius Black attempting to break into Gryffindor tower. All students slept in the great hall that night. Harry caught Malfoy’s eye as the Slytherins entered the hall. He was giving Harry a questioning look which Harry simply shook his head to. The news would be passed on to the house by the older students.

Harry lay on the floor attempting to sleep until he heard a conversation close to him.

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?” said Snape.

“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore.

“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —”

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it. I must go down to the Dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

Harry considered this. Surely Snape didn’t think Lupin would be helping Black into the castle? Harry didn’t think Lupin seemed the type of person to be able to fool Dumbledore so well, nor who would wish harm upon his students. As much as Harry had come to respect and even care for Snape, he had shown in his first two years at the school that he was capable of immensely unfounded bias when it came to the subject of Harry’s father.

He vowed to learn more from Lupin about James and Black as soon as possible. He needed to figure out whether this really was the same bias or whether it was founded in something more. Could Lupin not be trusted?

---

Everyone was talking about Sirius Black for the next few days. It took Harry until two days after Halloween to talk to Malfoy – ambushing him outside the Slytherin common room using the cloak that evening.

“Potter,” Malfoy said exasperatedly once he’d been pulled unceremoniously by an invisible Harry into a broom cupboard.

“So, you heard about Black?” Harry said, pulling off the cloak. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Obviously,” he said, in a very good Snape impersonation. Harry sniggered.

“You sound like Snape.”

“Good,” Malfoy smiled. Harry informed him of the conversation he’d overheard in the great hall and the conversation he’d had with Lupin the previous day.

“Well, I agree with Snape. I think that Lupin shouldn’t be trusted if he really was friends with Black. I mean, look at the state of him.” Harry sighed.

“Malfoy, you can’t keep just saying you don’t like him because of his robes. Maybe he’s had a tough time finding work or something,” Harry attempted. Malfoy stuck up his nose.

“Well, Dumbledore should get him some proper robes without holes in them anyhow.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I think you’re being a little unfair. He’s still a really good teacher.”

“I’ll admit he’s definitely better than Lockhart and Quirrell but they’re a low bar.”

“Fine, but I still think you’re being unfair. You’re just biased to Snape because he’s your godfather.”

“Potter, you literally lived with him for the entire Summer.”

“And yet, I can still recognise our potions Professor’s bias when it comes to anything remotely related to my dad. Don’t forget that it’s the sole reason he hated me for two years.”

“Yeah, but you also used to be crap at potions- ow!” Harry aimed a kick at Malfoy’s shins. Malfoy shoved him slightly, which didn’t do much in the enclosed space.

“I’ll have you know I was perfectly competent at potions, Snape just marked me more harshly,” Harry said indignantly.

“Mhm,” Malfoy sniggered.

---

The first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Gryffindor, was fast approaching. Wood had them training most nights a week and was obsessively hounding the team with tips and new plays any time he caught them between classes or in the common room.

Fred and George were following suit but instead mocking him rather than helping in his quest. They’d corner Harry and others in the team any chance they could.

“Harry!” Fred called as soon as Harry had climbed through the portrait hole one Saturday morning.

“Make sure you remember that new play we talked about,” said George.

“Yeah, the one called ‘push-Malfoy-off-his-broom’. P-M-O-H-B for short. Think you’ve got the hang of it?” said Fred. Harry rolled his eyes. Across the common room, Oliver scowled.

The match couldn’t have taken place in worse weather. It was thundering and pouring down rain worse than Harry had ever seen when they walked onto the pitch. His glasses were already soaked and blurred from the water droplets atop them. Thinking quickly, he took out his wand and cast an impervious charm on them.

Snape had taught him it over the holidays when he’d insisted on flying in the rain one time and would probably come to regret the missed opportunity for a Slytherin advantage.

The Slytherin team walked onto the pitch. Harry and Malfoy glared menacingly at each other while Flint and Wood attempted to mangle each other’s fingers.

“Those two should just kiss already,” George whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Harry and Angelina, who’d both been close enough to hear, bent over in silent fits of laughter. Oliver turned around to glare at them.

The match was going horribly. It was impossible to hear the commentary over the wind and thunder, and just as difficult to even see what was going on through the rain. Harry was attempting to tail Malfoy; a task made much easier by the seeker’s bright platinum hair.

“Shove off Potter,” Malfoy shouted through the rain after Harry had cut in front of him dangerously. Harry just grinned at him.

He turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field but another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry was distracted momentarily by the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

“Harry!” yelled Wood from the Gryffindor goal posts. “Harry, behind you!”

Harry turned to see Malfoy pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold just visible in the rain-filled air between them. He lay flat on his broom and sped towards the snitch until he felt everything go cold.

The wind was drowned out by an eerie silence and black shapes moved across the ground below.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”

“Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead — Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…”

It was the last thing he heard before he felt himself begin to fall and the world went dark.

He woke up in the hospital wing surrounded by the Gryffindor quidditch team.

“We didn’t… lose? Did we?” he said after having the invasion of dementors explained to him.

“Malfoy got the Snitch,” said George. “Just after you fell. He didn’t realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. It was the strangest thing. He yelled at Flint that he wanted a rematch, but Flint just screamed his head off to Malfoy to take the win and stop being such a Hufflepuff.”

“Yeah, that’s weird of Malfoy,” Harry said half-heartedly. George gave him a suspicious look. The rest of the team wasn’t paying much attention.

It turned out that not only had they lost by one-hundred points, but Harry’s Nimbus had been smashed to pieces by the Willow. The only saving grace was that they were still in with a chance for the cup so long as Slytherin lost by a fair margin to either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.

Madam Pomphrey also insisted he spend the weekend in the hospital wing.

He lay down to sleep that night once Hermione and Ron had left. The hospital wing was eerily quiet. Harry was the only patient there and Madam Pomphrey had retired to her quarters since Harry was not in any sort of critical condition. He lay awake, listening to the wind rattle the windows when he heard soft footsteps nearing his bed.

He rolled over to see a certain Slytherin seeker pull back his bed curtains.

“What are you doing here?” Harry said in a hoarse voice, scrambling to put on his glasses and sit up. Malfoy stood next to the bed awkwardly.

“I wanted to apologise for the match. I wanted a fair win against you, not one that was helped by dementors making you fall off your broom.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy,” Harry tried to joke, but his tone betrayed his hurt. A pitying expression flickered across Malfoy’s face. “Don’t,” Harry said hurriedly. “You won. It’s not like you fell off your broom like me, okay?”

Malfoy tentatively sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah, but still. Do you know why the dementors make you faint like that?” Harry laughed coldly.

“No. I have no idea. All I know is that when they come near, I hear my mother screaming and pleading with Voldemort for my life before he kills her.” There was a long silence.

“Oh,” Malfoy said quietly.

“Sorry,” said Harry hurriedly, avoiding Malfoy’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said quickly. “Maybe that’s the reason why it makes you faint.” Harry looked up.

“What?” he said, confused. Malfoy bit his lip.

“Well… if that’s the thing they make you remember, then, of course, they would affect you more. I bet no one else is forced to remember something so horrible.” Harry considered this.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, feeling slightly comforted by this theory. He leant back against the headboard. Malfoy gave him a small smile.

“Just… well- I just wanted to come to apologise. Flint won’t let us have a rematch.”

“It’s okay,” Harry sighed. “Just try not to beat Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff by too much.” Malfoy hit him lightly on the arm.

“You bet your ass I’ll still be doing my best to win the cup, Potter.”

“Good,” Harry replied. “Now go back to your dorm before Pomphrey hears you and comes to check on me.”

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered, then learnt forward and gave Harry a very quick hug. “Bye,” he breathed, before standing up and closing the curtains quickly.

Harry sat there for a moment, a little taken aback. Had Malfoy ever hugged him before? He was struggling to remember a time he had. He shook his head and lay back down, falling into a restless night of dreams filled with the echoes of his mother’s screams.

---

Once he was released from the hospital wing, he had his second encounter with Lupin, who asked Harry to stay for a moment after class. Not only did he get confirmation on Malfoy’s theory about why the dementors affected him so much, but he had agreed to give Harry Patronus lessons. Thus, despite the gloom from Gryffindor’s defeat, Harry’s mood considerably brightened for the rest of the term.

To everyone’s delight except Harry’s, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term. The day turned out much better than Harry had anticipated however when Fred and George gifted him the Marauder’s Map.

“So, young Harry,” said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, “mind you behave

yourself.”

 “See you in Honeydukes,” said George, winking.

He traced the secret passage with his finger. On one hand, he knew why he wasn’t supposed to be in Hogsmeade. He trusted Snape, and he’d had a very good reason for why Harry was not supposed to go to the village. On the other hand, he had his invisibility cloak. Even if Black was waiting for him in Hogsmeade, he wouldn’t be able to see Harry. Snape didn’t know about the cloak. Surely Harry could indulge himself this once in a Hogsmeade trip, where he’d be able to be perfectly hidden should he encounter Black.

He made up his mind and raced back up to Gryffindor tower to grab his cloak. An hour later he was emerging from the tunnel in the Honeydukes cellar.

He was having lunch at the Three Broomsticks with Ron and Hermione when they overheard a conversation between Rosmerta, McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge.

“You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!”

“Of course they were,” said Fudge. “Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.”

Once they were gone Hermione yanked him back up to his seat.

“Did you know he was your godfather, Harry?” Hermione whispered urgently. Harry shook his head and shrugged.

“No, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. I mean, if he was their best friend, it makes sense.” Ron and Hermione nodded. Harry secretly felt a little annoyed that Snape hadn’t shared the information with him. Surely the fact that he had a godfather was important. Maybe Snape hadn’t known?

Chapter Text

The Hogsmeade visit marked the end of term and the beginning of the Christmas holidays. Harry, of course, was staying in the castle over the break, as were Ron and Hermione. Harry would have liked to stay at Snape’s house over the break like during the summer but understood the impossibility of that scenario.

He at least still planned on giving Snape a Christmas present as a thank you for everything he’d done for him over the summer. They hadn’t had much opportunity to speak outside of class this term. With Sirius Black, quidditch, Harry’s increased workload, and new subjects, he was very short on free time. He wanted to drop divination more than anything but couldn’t bring himself to go through with the decision for fear of Ron’s feelings.

Ron was already in a bad mood these days because of Hermione’s cat, and Harry didn’t want to give him another thing to get annoyed over and use to damage their friendship. He also thought that leaving the class might encourage Hermione to do the same, and them both leaving would definitely do them no favours with Ron. 

Harry found himself missing Snape’s company a little. He had considered earning himself detention in potions, but as Snape was being much less hostile towards him in those classes, it would probably confuse everyone. If he was becoming such a model student and earning Snape’s approval, why would he suddenly decide to act up?

Earning detentions would result in a confusing disparity in Harry and Snape’s perceived relationship and voluntarily seeking out time with him would prove similar. Ron and Hermione would ask questions if he suddenly wanted to speak to Snape outside of class. They were under the impression that Harry and Snape continued to dislike each other but were more tolerant these days due to Harry’s increased affinity with Potions and interest in classwork.

Naturally, the true nature of Harry and Snape’s relationship could not be revealed for fear it would make it to the headmaster. While Snape had not yet told Harry of the headmaster’s motivations, it was safe to say that it would not be wise to trust him with the information at this time. It was too risky with how directly they had acted against his wishes.

Occlumency lessons had also been difficult to continue. As Harry couldn’t earn detentions and was under constant watch from staff due to Black’s escape, he couldn’t simply walk into Snape’s office anytime he pleased. Snape also still didn’t know about the cloak and Harry felt it best to keep it that way. While he liked and trusted Snape, he was still a teacher.

To make Harry’s mood worse, Malfoy was going home for Christmas, as he’d told Harry a few days prior.

“Look, Potter, I know you’re worried but it’s not like last year, okay?” Malfoy had explained exasperatedly after Harry had asked for the fifth time that evening whether he was okay going home.

“Yeah, but your dad,” Harry pressed. Malfoy grabbed one of his hands roughly and clenched it between his.

“Potter. Stop worrying. My father will be working most of the time and I need to be there to see my mother. If you ask me whether I’m okay one more time, I’ll hex you. You’re acting like a bloody Hufflepuff the way you’re carrying on.” Harry felt his face get hot and looked away.

“Okay, sorry,” he muttered. Malfoy let go of his hand and sighed.

“C’mon Potter not like you’re gonna miss me. You’ve got Weasel and Granger here. I’ll be fine.” Harry gave him a half-hearted smile.

“Yeah, okay. See you when you get back.”

To add to Harry’s seemingly endless store of secrets these days was his friendship with Malfoy. They still attempted to meet up about one evening a week under the cloak for brief periods of time. Harry was honestly finding the sneaking around kind of exhilarating. Even more exhilarating for him was keeping up the enemies act in public.

Part of him would have liked to just damn everyone to hell and be friendly towards Malfoy in Arithmancy or Potions but he knew why he couldn’t. Malfoy and Snape had both expressed the importance that they be careful, for their safety and wellbeing. It would not do to have the disapproval of both Lucius Malfoy and a large majority of Slytherin house. Harry also worried about what Ron and Hermione might say. Would they even understand it if he tried to explain?

Nonetheless, he found the fighting and bickering amusing when he knew neither party was being serious. It was fun to have everyone else around them fooled.

---

Christmas morning brought white snow and a silvery morning sky.

“Oy! Presents!” Ron said.

Harry quickly put his glasses on and began to survey his pile. It was a little larger than he’d been expecting.

He had received presents from the usual suspects; Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley and Hagrid. To his surprise, Neville had gifted him a box of Honeydukes chocolates.

Merry Christmas Harry!

Thanks so much for all your help this term with classwork. Have a good holiday.

From Neville

He felt a little guilty at that and made a promise to himself that he’d get Neville something before he got back from his holidays.

There was also a small package wrapped much more neatly than the others in a pale blue paper. It had no note, but he could instantly guess who it was from. He opened it to find an ornate silver robe clasp, detailed with a thin bolt of lightning cutting across it. He smiled at the symbolism of it, for both his scar and his magic.

He hoped Malfoy was just as pleased with the gift Harry had gotten him. He’d struggled to think of something that the wealthy pureblood would want but eventually settled on owl ordering him a practice snitch, as he’d been complaining that his last was getting very old and slow. The present also wouldn’t be a problem for Malfoy to open in front of his parents.

“What’s that?” said Ron. Harry started, thinking that Ron had noticed Malfoy’s present but instead he was staring at the space under Harry’s bed. Harry bent down to see a large package he hadn’t noticed before.

“Dunno.”

He opened it to find a Firebolt.

This present caused a lot more harm than good in Harry’s opinion. While he’d been overjoyed at first, he quickly grew to be suspicious of such a lavish gift with no note. He planned to speak to Wood about whether he knew any experts on Brooms who could check it over before the task was taken out of his hands.

He was in the common room that evening, Hermione buried in a book, he and Ron admiring the Firebolt when McGonagall walked in.

“So that’s it, is it?” said Professor McGonagall. “Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter.” She studied it for a moment. He had a bad feeling that he knew exactly what this was about.

“Well, I’m afraid I will have to take this, Potter.”

“Excuse me?” he said, standing up. “Why?”

“It will need to be checked for jinxes,” said Professor McGonagall. “Of course, I’m no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —”

“Strip it down?” repeated Ron.

“Professor,” Harry said, trying to keep his anger at bay. “I already was going to check it for jinxes. I was going to write to Oliver this evening to see if he knew anyone who would be qualified to check it over. I already know Sirius Black is after me and I agree that the broom is suspicious.” McGonagall pursed her lips and surveyed him.

“Very sensible of you Mr Potter I had not realised you were aware of the risks. I will speak to Madam Hooch and have her recommend someone. Can I trust you to not ride the broom then until it’s been checked over?”

“Of course, Professor,” Harry responded. She nodded.

“Very well.” She left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione both staring at Harry.

“What is wrong with you two!” Ron yelled angrily. “Why would you go running to McGonagall like that Hermione! And Harry! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well Harry agreed with me, Ron,” Hermione said angrily. “That broom probably was sent by Black and it’s better to be safe.” Harry felt his anger rising again.

“Look,” he said, glaring at them both. “Hermione, I appreciate that you were concerned but there was absolutely no need for you to go behind my back and speak to McGonagall like that without even talking to me! If you’d just asked me what I thought, I would have told you I was already getting it handled. You heard what she said. They were going to strip it down. I’d rather get this handled by a professional. And Ron, I was going to say something once I’d heard from Oliver.”

Ron turned on his heel and stormed up to the dorm. Hermione had the grace to look apologetic.

“I- I didn’t think you’d agree Harry. You were so excited about it,” she said softly. Harry sighed.

“Next time just speak to me, yeah?” he said. “I’m going up to bed. I need to cool off.” He walked upstairs, his Christmas spirits considerably ruined. Ron already had his hangings drawn.

The rest of the holiday was considerably worse than the first half. Harry had been annoyed with Hermione for another day, but eventually cooled down and apologised to her. Ron was still furious with the pair of them. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a

brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage, and he felt betrayed by Harry and Hermione for not sharing their concerns with him.

He heard back from Madam Hooch within another day, who took the Firebolt to be seen by a Broomstick expert. She told him not to expect it back for a little while, but that everything should be sorted before the Ravenclaw match.

The first potions class of the new term landed on a Wednesday. Harry ended up partnering with Hermione while Ron partnered with Neville. This meant that he and Hermione had by far the best potion in the class by the end. He’d tried to partner with Hermione since the first lesson, as working together meant she was less likely to be annoyed by him outdoing her.

“Mr Potter, a word,” Snape said as everyone was packing up. Harry waited while the rest of the class left the room, waving Hermione on and telling her not to wait for him.

“Yes, sir?” he said, once the door had closed. Snape gave him a small smile.

“I just wanted to check in on how you’ve been, Harry. We haven’t had much of a chance to speak since the summer. Are you keeping up with your occlumency practice?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said quickly. “I’m making sure to clear my head every night and practice my blocking techniques.”

“Good,” Snape nodded. “I will have to organise a time to test your shields. Can you come to my office tomorrow evening?” Harry shifted awkwardly.

“Oh, actually sir, I’m meeting Professor Lupin tomorrow evening.” Snape’s expression darkened.

“I see. And why may that be?”

“He’s agreed to give me Patronus lessons. I asked him after the first Quidditch match because I want to be able to fight them if they do anything like it again.” Snape surveyed him and shuffled some papers atop his desk.

“Harry, I know Professor Lupin seems nice enough to you, but there are things about him you don’t know.” Harry felt his anger rising.

“Oh?” he said, rather more forcefully than he’d intended.

“Look, Harry. I’m sorry but I must insist that you do not agree to spend time alone with him. He can’t be trusted. I may have mentioned before, but he was friends with Sirius Black-”

“My dad was also friends with Sirius Black,” Harry said hotly. “What does that have to do with anything?” Snape frowned.

“Your father-”

“What!” Harry yelled, slamming his hand down on the table. “What’s wrong with my father? Because I’ve heard from everyone I talk to that he was this great man who fought against Voldemort. Oh, except for you but you refuse to even mention his name! No one I’ve ever met talks about my father like they actually knew him so I’m sorry if I want to hear about him from the first person I’ve met that was friends with him. I don’t know what happened between you and my dad when you were fifteen or whatever, but who’s bloody fault is that!”

“All you do is make snide remarks and glare every time he’s brought up, but you never tell me what he actually did to make you hate him so much! What!? What did he do? Did he even do anything to you or is it just some stupid teenage grudge!”

“Harry,” Snape growled. “You can’t trust Lupin. Do not go to see him tomorrow.”

“No!” Harry yelled, almost shaking with rage at this point. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do. Stop acting like you’re my dad because you’re not. Sirius Black is more my dad than you are because he’s my sodding godfather, but you never bothered to mention that, did you?!” Snape paled slightly.

“Harry-”

“Stop acting like you care so much! Is it all just a big ploy to get back at my dad for whatever he did to you?”

“Of course not Harry!” Snape yelled back. “Of course I care about you!” Harry glared at him.

“I don’t believe you,” Harry said quietly. Snape stepped back, looking like he’d just been hit in the face. “So you can stop telling me what to do. I’m going to see Lupin tomorrow because he’s agreed to actually tell me a single damn thing about my father and agreed to help me protect myself against the dementors. I don’t know why you’ve still got some stupid teenage grudge against him but I don’t care.” Harry picked up his bag and stormed out of the room.

He slammed the door on the way out and hit the side of his fist against the stone wall opposite it, laying his forehead against the cold brick. He was breathing hard, heart pounding in his throat while blood rushed to his ears.

He stood there for a few minutes, letting himself calm slightly. Had he been too harsh? He couldn’t get the look on Snape’s face out of his head. He’d never seen him look so hurt before. Had Harry done that?

He let some of the anger drain away before walking quickly up to Gryffindor tower. He’d skip dinner. He didn’t want to see Snape’s face. Would he be angry with Harry? He was still stewing slightly as he yanked his hangings closed around his bed and pulled out his radio. Who the hell did Snape think he was telling him who he could and couldn’t spend his time with? He had no right. It was like Harry had said. He wasn’t his dad. No one was his dad. Sirius Black had seen to that.

With that sobering thought, he fell into a very restless evening. He heard the other boys come back from dinner, but as Ron wasn’t speaking to him, he wasn’t disturbed. He cast a silencing charm around his bed and sobbed angrily for a few minutes into his pillow. He eventually drifted to sleep listening to a muggle radio station.

He did not feel at all rested when he woke up the next morning, despite getting a full eight hours of sleep. He walked grumpily down to breakfast at the Gryffindor table. Neville slid into the seat beside him.

“You alright Harry?” He asked, grabbing a piece of toast. Harry made a noncommittal noise and stuffed his mouth with scrambled eggs to avoid answering. A few minutes later, Hermione arrived, taking the seat opposite him.

“God Harry, you look dreadful!” She exclaimed. Harry glared at her. “I just mean- are you alright? You didn’t come down to dinner yesterday. Did Snape say something?” He swallowed his eggs and sighed.

“Yeah, it’s Snape,” he muttered, glancing up at the staff stable. Thankfully, Snape wasn’t there yet. He pushed his plate away from him and stood up. “I forgot my Arithmancy book. See you in class.” Hermione and Neville shared a worried look but he ignored them, heading off to sit in an alcove alone until class.

Arithmancy was in fact the first class of the day. He was silent almost the whole lesson. Not even Malfoy’s attempted remarks could cheer him up. Malfoy was sending him worried looks out of the corner of his eye all lesson, and even had the nerve to whisper; “Are you alright Potter?” under his breath while Vector spoke. Harry just nodded sharply and bent back over his parchment.

Luckily, Malfoy didn’t get a chance to interrogate him after class because Hermione stuck by his side all the way to Defence. He was thankful at first, but soon grew irritated when she began asking him more questions. He grabbed lunch quickly from the great hall and avoided everyone by escaping to the library. He pretended to sleep during double History of Magic to avoid any more pestering and again grabbed a quick dinner from the great hall before sitting alone outside until eight o clock.

He'd read up on Patronus’, and he thought that his current mood would most definitely make casting one difficult.

He entered the classroom to find Professor Lupin with a large packing case.

“What’s that?” He asked warily.

“Another Boggart,” replied Lupin. He surveyed Harry for a moment. “Everything alright Harry?” he asked.

“Yep,” Harry replied quickly. “Let’s get started.” Lupin gave him a suspicious look but didn’t push it any further.

He woke up on the floor for the second time. He was shaking and sweating.

“I heard my dad,” he mumbled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…” he looked away. He didn’t want Lupin to see the tears on his cheeks. Lupin knelt beside him as Harry tried to wipe away the dampness from his face as quickly as possible.

“Harry,” he said gently, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. “We don’t have to continue for now. This charm is incredibly advanced, and you can always have another go when you’re feeling a little better.” He squeezed slightly. Harry nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

“And I know it’s not my place, but you can talk to me if there’s something bothering you. It might help with the charm to have a clear head,” Lupin continued.

“I-” Harry started. His voice cracked and his throat constricted. He swallowed forcefully, willing himself to get a grip. He wasn’t going to start sobbing in front of his defence professor. He took a deep breath.

“Is it about James?” Lupin said softly. Harry nodded. Lupin stood up and grabbed a block of chocolate from his desk. “Sit down Harry, it’s alright. Here, eat this.” Harry stood mutely and sat in the desk chair, biting down on the corner of the block.

“What’s happened, Harry?” Lupin said. “You were very quiet in defence today and I could tell when you walked in here that something wasn’t right.” Harry swallowed. He wasn’t sure Lupin would be the best person to talk to, but then again, maybe he was. If he’d known Snape and James at Hogwarts, he’d know what the problem was.

“It’s- it’s Professor Snape. I got really angry at him yesterday afternoon because of some things he was saying. And I guess some things he wasn’t saying.” Lupin looked at him patiently. Harry took another deep breath and continued.

He explained the concerns Snape had told him about, the things he’d said, the things Harry had said. He felt hot white shame wash over him as he blurted out the contents of the very one-sided argument. He told Lupin about not knowing his father and wishing someone would tell him what he was really like. He told Lupin how Snape hadn’t mentioned that Sirius Black was his godfather, and how that had made him feel. At the end of it, he realised that he’d been crying again.

He swiped angrily at his face and bent his head over the table. Lupin reached forward and squeezed his shoulder again.

“It’s alright, Harry,” he said quietly. “I understand why you’d be angry.”

“But of course you would,” Harry started, struggling to keep his temper under control once again. “You hate Snape because of whatever happened with my dad.”

“I don’t hate Professor Snape, Harry,” Lupin said calmly but firmly. Harry looked up. Lupin sighed and put his head in his hands. “What happened between James, Sirius and Snape was complicated, but I can try and explain some of it if you’ll let me, Harry.” Harry nodded slowly and sat up.

“Okay,” Lupin breathed heavily. “The first thing that you have to understand, is that the Slytherin Gryffindor rivalry was a lot worse then than it is even now. Voldemort was rapidly gaining power and the war started soon into our schooling. He was recruiting many of his followers from the Slytherin graduates and older students.” Harry nodded along.

“But apart from that, James and Severus took an instant disliking to each other. I don’t know what exactly it was, maybe some jealously, the house rivalry, the fact that Severus was friends with Lily. Think of it as much like the rivalry between yourself and Mr Malfoy.” Harry had to stifle a small smile at that.

“But as the years progressed, as did the war, and it became clear to James and the rest of us that Severus would be on the other side of it. Whatever their reasons for hating each other, however, there was no excuse for some of the things James and Sirius did and no excuse for me not intervening. It was by no means one-sided, but there were four of us and one of him. Severus resents me greatly for taking part in some of the school-boy antics they performed.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. Had his father really been the arrogant bully Snape had suggested in his earlier years?

“I’m not going to tell you about every petty squabble, prank, or jinx that each took part in, but I can tell you that James, Sirius, and Severus matured somewhat by the end of seventh year. Or, at least, I thought Sirius had,” he said darkly. Harry stiffened awkwardly. Lupin cleared his throat.

“I’m not sure how much Professor Snape has said about your father, Harry. He would probably tell you that he was arrogant, and he was, for a time. He came from a pureblood family with parents who loved and adored him, he was a fantastic Quidditch player, and he was very gifted and able to achieve high marks quite easily in his subjects. He definitely let some of it go to his head during his earlier years. What was consistent, however, was his heart.”

“James was incredibly loyal to his friends and cared deeply about the people he loved. He was brave and kind and always stood up for what he thought was right. He wasn’t perfect, like some people may have told you, but he was by no means a bad person. He was the best friend I ever had,” Lupin smiled sadly. Harry looked away, feeling as though he was intruding into a private moment.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said quietly after a few seconds of silence. Lupin patted his shoulder again.

“That’s quite alright Harry. It can be hard for me to talk about James, after everything, but if you ever have any questions, you are welcome to ask them.” Harry smiled at him.

“That means a lot to me, Professor,” he admitted. “It’s nice to hear about my dad from someone who knew him properly.” Lupin gave him a small smile.

“I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear right now Harry, but you should speak to Professor Snape. It seems to me like he cares a great deal about you. Whatever mistakes he’s made, I’m sure he’d like to explain them to you himself.” Harry nodded solemnly.

“I think this is enough for today, Harry. It’s getting late. You can try again next week, alright?” Lupin said. Harry was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to achieve a result but agreed that he probably wasn’t in the headspace to do so at the moment.

“Okay Professor, goodnight,” he said, picking up his things and heading for the door.

“Goodnight Harry. Make sure you try and reconcile with Professor Snape. I can tell you care for him too,” Lupin said softly. Harry felt the guilt roll around in his stomach at that.

---

After the lesson, he went straight upstairs to grab his invisibility cloak and then raced down to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. To his relief, Malfoy was arriving late from being at the library.

Half an hour later found them secluded in an empty classroom on the third floor. Harry retold the story of his and Snape’s argument for the second time that evening, adding in the discussion he’d had with Lupin and the Patronus lesson.

“God, that’s a lot. No wonder you looked so dreadful during Arithmancy today,” Malfoy remarked when he was finished.

“Oi you prat,” Harry scowled. “I was looking for some moral support here not your usual insults.”

“Sorry,” Malfoy smirked. “Force of habit.” Harry huffed good-naturedly.

“So?”

“Fine,” Malfoy sighed. “Well, I understand why you were mad at Snape, I guess. But you should definitely talk to him. You were way out of line speaking like that to a teacher, and you should apologise.”

“Yeah, I got that lecture from Lupin already thanks,” Harry muttered. Malfoy smiled slightly, rolling his eyes. “But I just don’t know what to say,” Harry continued. “Part of me’s still angry with him. I’m afraid if I talk to him, I’ll just lose my temper all over again.”

“You do have a bit of an anger problem Potter,” Malfoy replied.

“Are you going to be helpful or not,” Harry said crossly. Malfoy chucked.

“See,” he said, poking Harry’s chest with his index finger. “Anger problem.” Harry rolled his eyes but began to smile slightly.

“I’m still waiting on that helpful advice you’re supposed to be giving me.”

“Right, okay. Well, if you’re still angry maybe wait for a little. The whole ‘time heals all wounds’ thing is supposed to be good advice. And if you’re worried about his feelings just tell him you’re sorry and that you need more time to think about it and discuss the issue further. That you’ll come to talk when you’re ready.” Harry thought about this for a moment.

“Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad. And what do you think about Lupin?” Malfoy pursed his lips slightly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He seems nice, especially after what you told me he said tonight, but I can’t help thinking there’s something more. Snape just seems to hate him so much.” Harry shrugged.

“I don’t know, it seemed obvious to me. Snape is still holding onto his teenage grudge against my dad’s friend group in school and thinks Lupin is in league with Black. I told you about the conversation I overheard in the great hall.”

“Yeah,” Malfoy sighed. “You’re probably right I can’t think of what else it would be.” A few moments of companionable silence passed between them. “So,” Malfoy started in a business-like tone. “What’s been happening over the Christmas holidays? Thank you for the snitch by the way.” He smiled. Harry grinned back at him.

“No worries. I really liked what you got me by the way it’s gorgeous. And very thoughtful too.” Harry watched Malfoy’s cheeks bloom pink as he ducked his head.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he muttered in a much quieter tone than before.

“Oh, also Ron’s not speaking to me right now,” Harry went on. Malfoy snorted.

“What, Weasel got sick of you or something?”

“No,” Harry sighed. “I got a firebolt for Christmas with no note and he’s annoyed I didn’t tell him I thought it was suspicious and sent it away to be checked for jinxes.”

“You got a Firebolt!” Malfoy exclaimed, almost toppling over. Harry let out a short burst of laughter.

“Yes, and that’s not the point of the story.” Malfoy composed himself quickly.

“Well, yes, I can see your point that it’s suspicious, but a real Firebolt! God, when Flint finds out- but yes very sensible to get it checked. What about Granger? Is she pissed at you too?” Harry chuckled.

“Well, I was pissed at her at first because she went behind my back to almost get it confiscated by McGonagall, but we’re okay now.”

“Hm,” Malfoy considered. “Alright then.”

“What, everything meets your approval does it?” Harry grinned.

“Barely,” Malfoy retorted. “I’m annoyed you didn’t write to tell me you got a real Firebolt.” Harry let out a huff of amusement.

“What? Wouldn’t your dad have been annoyed by you receiving a note from Harry Potter telling you he got a Firebolt?” Malfoy shrugged.

“Probably wouldn’t have known I’d received it. Spends most of his time in his office.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next holidays then,” Harry replied.

Chapter Text

Harry’s Patronus lessons with Lupin continued on a weekly basis. After the disaster of their first lesson, Harry was making much better progress, now able to conjure wisps of silvery mist and even a shield-form occasionally. After each lesson, Lupin would sit with Harry and tell him stories of his time at Hogwarts, and about James.

Harry noticed that he often avoided mentioning Black and Peter Pettigrew, focussing instead on moments solely between himself and Harry’s father.

“But the first time I met your dad, Harry, was stepping onto the Hogwarts express at eleven years old. He all but kidnapped me into an apartment and asked what my name was, then proceeded to ask what Quidditch position I favoured. He seemed to have it in his head that he’d be forming his own team the minute he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds, and that he’d instantly be made captain of the Gryffindor team.”

“Well, of course, I told him that I hadn’t played before, and you know what he said?” Lupin glanced away, smiling fondly. “He said that he’d train me up as a seeker the minute we were both sorted into Gryffindor and make sure I try out for the team with him.”

Harry let out a huff of laughter. He couldn’t imagine weary, mild Professor Lupin performing a Wronski feint. Lupin seemed to feel the same because he laughed too.

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry Harry, I’m not coming for your position anytime soon. Turned out I was deathly afraid of heights, so I freaked out the first time he tried to get me on a broom. His plan didn’t really work out after that. Still, he managed to get Sirius on as a beater in his final year,” Lupin’s expression faltered suddenly, his laughter dying and his eyes growing dark.

Harry looked away. He really did feel for the man. He’d accidentally brought up Black’s name on more than one occasion, and it brought on the same reaction each time. Lupin always seemed to forget not to mention him when he was too far gone in his stories. The mention of ‘Sirius’ always brought him hurtling back to reality, a distantly lost mood encompassing him each time.

Harry guessed that the man hadn’t spoken of his time at Hogwarts in a long while, perhaps not since before Black’s betrayal. He’d always eventually forget not to mention Black and Pettigrew, like the time before was a wholly separate existence. James seemed the only one he could talk about freely, the memories mostly untarnished - frozen in time. In death.

Harry would usually leave soon after these moments. Lupin would attempt to continue but ultimately grow too distracted and sombre to tell the stories properly.

Sometimes, Harry would tell Lupin stories of his own. He shared tales from his first two years at Hogwarts and from his summer with Snape. He attempted not to talk about his childhood, but occasional mentions of the Dursley’s treatment would slip out. Each time they did, Lupin fell again into one of his distracted moods.

Harry occasionally found himself wondering why Lupin had not sought to discover what had become of Harry when James and Lily died. But he didn’t dare ask that question. How would he even approach the topic?

He ultimately came to a logically reasoned conclusion which allowed him to fill in the blanks for himself. Lupin already seemed wrought with grief about the life he’d lost after twelve years. Harry couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him back then, having every person he cared about taken from him in a single day – James, Lily, and Peter all dead, while the Sirius Black he’d known was as good as.

Harry felt guilty sometimes for asking Lupin to remember a time that so obviously pained him to talk about. He felt selfish for wanting him to continue talking even after he’d accidentally mentioned Sirius and descended into a forlorn mood.

Another issue that hadn’t been solved, even after a few weeks, was Snape. Snape was all but ignoring Harry, his eyes passing over him during class as though he were invisible. Harry wanted to speak to him but didn’t know what to say. He’d never been good with apologies. Snape probably thought Harry wanted nothing to do with him. That was the only explanation to why he himself hadn’t approached Harry in the hope of reconciliation.

Hermione had commented on his unusual behaviour, but he didn’t exactly have an answer he could give her. He’d just shrug it off as Snape hating him as usual.

He attempted to discuss the issue with Malfoy one evening.

“Potter, you’re an idiot. Just talk to him.”

“How!” Harry groaned in frustration. “What? I’m just supposed to go up to him at the end of class and tell him how sorry I am for saying all that stuff to him?”

“Yes,” Malfoy deadpanned. Harry glared at him.

“You are not being helpful.”

“No, you’re being a moron and a coward.” Harry gasped dramatically.

“You take that back Draco Malfoy!” The corner of Malfoy’s mouth turned upwards.

“Nope. You’re a cowardly Gryffindor who’s too afraid to confront the problem he caused.”

“I did not cause this problem!” Harry yelled. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. Harry frowned. “Okay, maybe I a little bit caused this problem. But it’s not my fault Snape is keeping things from me and being immature!”

“Immature?” Malfoy drawled. Harry went to hit him, but Malfoy dodged his head out of the way. He sat up, rubbing his shoulder which had hit the floor and rolled his eyes at Harry. “You are insufferable, you know that?”

“So you keep saying.”

“Yes, well someone has to keep you from getting an ego, boy-who-lived. Okay, okay!” Malfoy said, raising his hands in a sign of peace. Harry sighed. He rested his chin in his hand, propped up on his knee as they sat opposite one another on the floor.

“I just- I know I shouldn’t have gotten angry, and I know I shouldn’t have said some of those things to him,” he added after another sceptical eyebrow raise directed his way. “But I was being truthful still. He hasn’t been completely fair and honest with me.”

“Literally no one is completely fair and honest.”

“Malfoy, I will curse you. I’ve been reading up on one that gives you bleeding bite marks all over your body.”

“Why the actual hell have you been reading about curses like that, Potter!” Malfoy gasped, falling back onto his hands.

“Defence.”

“Pretty sure we’re not learning curses in defence until next year. And definitely not curses like that.” Harry shrugged.

“Personal defence then. I can’t have you and the Slytherins be the only ones who know nasty curses to hit Gryffindors with. I need stuff to retaliate.” Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“God, how do you always side-track the conversation like this.” Harry grinned. Then, his expression faltered slightly, and he sighed.

“Kay, fine. I just- I’m afraid that I’ll get angry again. If he says something else about Professor Lupin or my dad… I don’t know what… Merlin, why is this so confusing!” he huffed, throwing his arms up in frustration. Malfoy frowned.

“Potter. Just talk to him. I’m sure he’ll try not to aggravate you after last time. Just start with saying you’re sorry for how you spoke to him and I’m sure he’ll have enough decency in him to apologise back. He’s apologised to you before, remember?”

“I guess,” Harry grumbled.

“See?”

“Mm.” They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Can we talk about something else?” Malfoy asked eventually. Irritably.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe like about Ron not talking to you?”

“I already told you about that,” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, I know why he’s not talking to you, idiot.”

“Thanks.”

“I just mean… how are you coping? You two have been inseparable for three years.”

“Why on earth do you want to talk about my feelings?” Harry asked in faint amusement.

“We already are, aren’t we?”

“I guess…”

“So?... answer the question.” Harry stared exasperatedly at Malfoy.

“You are incredibly frustrating.” Malfoy just kept smiling innocently at him. Harry relented. “Well… I don’t know. It’s been weird. I know he’ll get over it eventually so I’m not that worried but it has been a bit lonely. Spending time with Hermione just isn’t the same. She’s great, obviously, but without Ron as a buffer she can be a little overbearing, always nagging me to do schoolwork and go to the library and that. What’s even more frustrating about it is I’m pretty sure I’m beating her in at least a few subjects, and she doesn’t even realise. She just keeps telling me to study more for them.” He paused.

“I’ve been spending more time with Neville, actually, when Hermione goes off to study.”

“Oh?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. Harry gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, it’s been making me think.”

“Merlin forbid, the great Harry Potter is thinking! Whatever will we do?” Malfoy sighed dramatically. Harry rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious you prat. Now shut up and listen.” Malfoy folded his arms. Harry eyed him exasperatedly. “Right, so I was thinking about how I’m not actually friends with very many people outside Ron and Hermione and Gryffindor in general. Obviously, there’s you, and Neville, but I don’t understand why we don’t mix more with people outside of our houses.”

“Hm,” Malfoy considered. “Yeah, I can see that. Some people can just be weird about inter-house friendships.”

“Yeah, I know, but I thought that was mainly with Gryffindor and Slytherin. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to people in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, right? Also, are all the people in Slytherin really so bad? What are your other housemates like apart from Crabbe and Goyle?” Harry asked.

“Well, my other dorm mates are Blaise and Theo. They’re both pretty alright. I’m good friends with Blaise but Theo’s more the quiet, studious type, so I don’t speak to him outside of class much. I’m also not sure what to make of him politically given his father. He and my dad are friends so that’s not promising. Blaise is neutral. I only met him during first year and his mum stayed out of the war.”

“And the girls?” Harry pressed.

“They’re fine. Tracey is pretty cool. She’s the only half-blood in our year so she’s learned quickly not to take crap from anyone. She’s got a nasty array of hexes up her sleeve so don’t get on her bad side. Father has allowed me to associate with her because she’s a Slytherin but it’s best not to bring up her blood status around him. She hangs out with Blaise and me sometimes, so my father is probably worried I’ll muddy the bloodline by marrying her or something.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“So, what? You like her or something?” he said, feeling a strange lump in his stomach at the words.

“No,” Malfoy said quickly. “No, nothing like that, Merlin. My father just thinks that because she’s a girl.” He coughed, awkwardly. “We’ve also got Daphne, Millie, and Pansy. Daphne is nice enough. She and Tracey are close. I don’t speak to Millie much and Pansy can be nice sometimes, but she’s been incredibly irritating recently. Apparently, our parents have been talking about setting up an engagement, so she won’t leave me alone,” he scowled. Harry stared at him, aghast.

“What?” he spluttered. “Engaged?!”

“No, not yet, thankfully,” Malfoy sighed. “I don’t think they’ll make it official for another few years, but they’re still talking about it which is irritating enough.”

“But why are they forcing you to be engaged?!” Harry yelled, outraged. Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry and laughed.

“Pureblood things, Potter. A lot of the older families try to make arrangements while their children are still in school. It’s to make sure we produce a suitable pureblood heir and don’t muddy the bloodline.”

“But that’s medieval!” Harry exclaimed. Malfoy just hummed glumly in agreement.

“Don’t worry yourself about it. It’s still a few years away so I’ve got ages to try and convince my dad against it. Or find another way out.”

“Okay,” Harry said. There was a long pause. “So… um- it would probably be fine if I spoke to Blaise or Tracey because their parents are neutral Voldemort-wise?” Malfoy flinched at the name but nodded.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how they’d take to that,” he said. Harry shrugged.

“I was thinking of setting up a study group,”

“You’re turning into a proper nerd after living with Severus, Potter,” Malfoy drawled.

“Hey, it’s also because magic is much for fun when I’ve got full access to it,” Harry replied.

“Okay, fine. So, you’re thinking of starting a study group. For what? A sort of inter-house magical cooperation type thing?”

“Yeah, basically,” Harry said apprehensively, rubbing his elbow. “I just figured it might be nice to branch out more since we’re in our third year at this school. And who knows, it could be useful to have allies in other houses.”

“You think a lot like a Slytherin sometimes, you know that?” Malfoy replied Harry grinned.

“Oh yeah, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin.” Malfoy gasped.

“What!” he said. Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, it said I’d do well in Slytherin, and it would help me on the way to greatness or something. But I told it not to put me there, so it put me in Gryffindor instead,” he explained. Malfoy scoffed.

“What the hell would you do that for?” he said.

“Um, cause of you… actually,” he muttered. Malfoy burst out laughing.

“What?! Me?”

“Yes,” Harry said angrily. “Because you were a right prat to Ron and me and also everyone had told me before the sorting that Slytherin was where dark wizards went.” Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Merlin, Gryffindors can be idiots,” he said. “The sorting hat must’ve made the right choice then.” Harry scoffed.

“Stop being a prat and tell me what you think of my idea,” he said. Malfoy sighed.

“Fine, I think it’s a cool idea, but obviously we still can’t be seen together. I will attempt to speak to acceptable Ravenclaw purebloods, and you will create your little study group. Might make this school interesting for once to have you willingly befriending Slytherins.” Harry grinned.

“Brilliant!”

“Who else are you going to ask apart from Blaise and Tracey?” Malfoy said thoughtfully. Harry thought for a moment.

“Well, I talk to Susan occasionally in Arithmancy and Herbology so probably her. And also her friend Ernie. Then maybe Anthony from Ravenclaw. He’s always been nice to me. And I guess I could invite Parvati and ask her to bring Padma along. Merlin knows I could do with the help in Divination.” Malfoy frowned.

“Thought you were going to drop that?” he said. Harry sighed.

“Yeah, I want to. I probably will at the end of the year, I just feel bad leaving Ron all alone. Hermione will definitely leave if I do.”

“Hm,” Malfoy hummed. “Well, sounds like you have a lot to do.”

---

Harry cornered Neville the following evening in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was in the library while Ron was chatting with Seamus on the other side of the room, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Harry. He sighed and shook his head as a plonked himself down next to Neville on the floor. Neville glanced over at Ron.

“That still going on then?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said glumly, then waved his hand dismissively. “He’ll come around eventually.” Neville looked at him sceptically.

“So, uh, I actually wanted to ask you about something,” Harry pivoted. Neville looked at him curiously.

“Alright?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of starting a small study group, but with some people from our year in the other houses,” he said.

“Oh?” Neville tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

“Well, I was just thinking the other day about how I don’t speak to non-Gryffindors much. It’d be nice to widen my social circle and maybe learn new things from different people.” Neville nodded thoughtfully.

“That sounds like a fun idea. I talk to Hannah and Justin a bit and they’re always nice. Who were you thinking of asking?”

“Well, you, obviously. Susan and Ernie from Hufflepuff, Anthony from Ravenclaw, Parvati and Padma too maybe, and I suppose that would also mean Lavender because she’d want to go anywhere Parvati does. Also, Tracey and Blaise. Maybe,” Harry added. Neville’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wow, okay. That’s quite a few. Susan has always intimidated me a bit, but that seems like a good crowd. Except, uh, Tracey and Blaise? Are you sure? Blaise is friends with Malfoy, Harry.” Harry shrugged.

“Blaise has never been nasty to me like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Plus, his mum was neutral in the war with Voldemort.” Neville looked at him suspiciously.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“Uh, I just asked Professor Lupin about the Slytherins, that’s all,” he lied quickly. “Also, Tracey is a half-blood, so we know she’s not into all of the blood purity stuff like the rest of them,” he went on.

“Alright,” Neville nodded slowly. “What about Hermione?”

“You really think Hermione would enjoy studying with a big group of noisy people who will constantly pester her and ask her questions?” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, I am saving her so much stress. She’s got enough with her workload right now.” Neville chuckled.

“You’re probably right.”

---

Harry had a lot to think about over the next few days. He was still attempting to come up with an apology for Snape and was also in the process of talking to everyone he wanted to invite to his study group. Tracking down various classmates across four houses was not easy, especially factoring in trying to get them on their own.

He managed to talk to Susan after Arithmancy the next day, Hermione having raced off to her Muggle Studies lesson as soon as the bell rang. She appeared pleasantly surprised by the invite and even more pleased when Harry agreed to help her with potions. She’d heard rumours of his improved skills. She agreed to invite Ernie too and told him to let her know when he wanted to start.

This success with Susan boosted Harry’s confidence. The next day he cornered Anthony after charms, who wholeheartedly agreed to take part. He also spoke with Parvati, and by extension, Lavender, in Gryffindor tower that evening. They too agreed to join and trade their divination notes for some of Harry’s charms notes. Parvati also agreed to invite Padma, saying that her twin would ‘never speak to her again’ if she didn’t, Ravenclaw that she was.

A few more days passed before Harry got the courage to talk to either Tracey or Blaise. He spent much of his spare time over them learning and revising different types of shield charms. While Malfoy had said they could be trusted they were still Slytherins, and Slytherins he wasn’t particularly friendly with at that.

He was half-convinced they’d curse him at ‘hello’. Nevertheless, the opportunity to see through his ‘inter-house unity project’ was practically thrown at him that Saturday morning. Almost literally. He collided with Blaise and Tracey while running down the stairs of the owlery, having just finished visiting Hedwig.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry gasped hurriedly. Blaise looked down his nose at him with a withering look. “Oh!” Harry said, only just noticing who he’d bumped into. “Oh, um- I actually wanted to ask you about something.”

“Me?” Blaise said incredulously while Tracey raised an eyebrow behind him.

“Yeah,” Harry said, swallowing and attempting to control his laboured breathing. “You see, I’m starting this study group with some of our other year mates. And I’ve heard you two are both brilliant at Astronomy.” Blaise’s eyebrows rose even higher, as did Tracey’s.

“Even though we’re Slytherins?” he asked. Harry nodded.

“Well, that’s another reason I wanted to invite you, actually. I’m trying to get somewhat equal representation across the houses. Give a more well-rounded and diverse range of perspectives and approaches to things, you know?” Harry said. Blaise laughed at that.

“Always one for surprises aren’t you Potter,” he said. Tracey gave him a small smile.

“That sounds useful. I’ve been wondering about your potions skills for a while now. I’m guessing we’ll get some insight on them if we join?” she asked innocently. Harry smiled and nodded. “Excellent,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Count me in then.” Blaise rolled his eyes at her.

“You should’ve been in bloody Ravenclaw, Trace. All your cunning and ambition is directed towards your studies.” She shrugged. Blaise turned back towards Harry and brought a hand to his temple.

“Look Potter,” he sighed. “It’s a fun idea but I’ll never hear the end of it from Draco if I join a Potter-run inter-house study group.” Harry blinked stupidly at the casual use of Malfoy’s given name. Huh. He’d kind of forgotten about it in all honesty. Was it weird that he still used his surname? He cleared his head of the off-track thoughts and brought himself back to the situation at hand.

“Um, you could always not tell him. I really don’t think he’d care, would he? He’s not the one in the group.” Blaise looked at him as though he was incredibly dense.

“Potter, Draco literally never shuts up about how much he despises you. Of course he’ll care.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I give you my full permission to leave the group if he annoys you too much,” Harry said. Blaise frowned.

“Fine. But I guarantee you he will.”

“Great,” Harry grinned. “I’ll let you know when and where.”

“Great,” Blaise grimaced.

---

Harry organised the group to take place on Monday afternoon before dinner in an empty charms classroom on the second floor. Hermione was, as usual, in a hurry to get to the library and didn’t even say goodbye on her way out of defence against the dark arts. Harry, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender all walked there together, chatting happily as they did.

When they arrived, Susan and Ernie were already sitting down, laying books out across a large table in the centre of the room. They exchanged cheerful greetings with the four Gryffindors. Next, Padma entered, then Anthony. Lastly, Blaise and Tracey walked in together, looking apprehensive and a little nervous.

“Hey guys,” Harry greeted them, smiling in what he hoped was a friendly, tension-easing kind of way. Everyone else in the room seemed to tense on their arrival. Lavender and Parvati in particular, were looking at them warily. Harry ignored them. “Malfoy cursed you yet Zabini?” he grinned. Zabini grimaced.

“Not yet.”

“Well, guess you can take a seat then,” Harry replied, motioning to the chair on the side of him Neville wasn’t occupying. Zabini sat down amid tense silence. “Have you done that essay on moon cycles that Vector assigned yet?” he asked once Blaise had gotten his books out.

“I’m about halfway,” he replied. “What’s your paragraph structure like?” This seemed to break some of the tension in the room. Soon everyone was hurrying to get out whatever piece of homework they’d been struggling with and ask for help from someone who had already completed it.

Neville joined Harry and Blaise in completing the Astronomy essay, and the three of them worked surprisingly well together, asking the occasional question on what the others thought of their word choice or the content itself, and comparing the different sources they were using.

Tracey had tentatively asked Susan for help with some Transfiguration homework, and the two were soon joined by Parvati and Lavender who also needed help. Anthony and Ernie were working on charms homework together but would often ask questions to the room at large regarding the content they were studying. Clearly, neither of them was particularly amazing at the subject.

By the end of the hour, Harry thought it had been a very successful session. He kind of understood why Malfoy and Zabini were friends now. They both had wicked wit, a great sense of humour and were very intelligent. Zabini was also very logical and reasonable. Harry could see him easily countering Malfoy’s dramatic snark with reality-heavy sarcasm and a roguish grin to the other’s elegant smile.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak much to some of the others, but he hoped he’d get to know them better next time.

“Thanks for coming everyone,” he said to the room as they packed up their bags. “Uh, I’m not sure if you wanted to just do the same time next week?” There was a lot of nodding and quiet agreements at this. “Great. So, I was thinking we can also just study together in the library if some of us happen to be there and then also have a weekly session like this where we can talk properly without Pince having our heads.” There were some chuckles at that. Harry smiled nervously.

“Thanks for this Potter, it’s been fun,” Anthony said. There was a collective agreement across the room. Harry shifted back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I- well. It’s not me. It’s a group thing. I just organised it. I’m not really doing much,” he said. Anthony shrugged.

“Still. Thanks for organising it.”

“Yeah, thanks Potter,” Blaise grinned. “I’ll see you around. I’m starving,” he directed to Tracey. They both walked towards the door, waving goodbye. Anthony and Susan followed closely behind. Parvati and Lavender approached Harry as they did.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Zabini, Potter,” Lavender whispered, giggling.

“Um,” Harry stuttered. “Uh, I’m not really. I only talked to him much recently to ask him to join the group.” Both girls giggled at this.

“Oh. Well, thanks for that. I thought he was like Malfoy since the two hang out so much but it’s a pleasant surprise finding out otherwise,” Lavender went on. Parvati giggled some more and elbowed Lavender.

“Mhm,” she said between huffs of laughter. “Very pleasant.” They both left, still muttering together and giggling. Harry stared after then, completely lost.

“What-”

“Godric, you can be thick sometimes Harry,” Neville huffed, grinning at him. He flung an arm over Harry’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Harry said, frowning. “What were they talking about then if you’re so clever?” Neville rolled his eyes. Harry found the motion very disconcerting. It was strange to have Neville know something he didn’t.

“They think Zabini’s attractive, Harry. They’re happy that you invited him because he’s getting a bit of a heartthrob reputation amongst the girls in our year.”

“How in Merlin’s name do you know that?” Harry said, nonplussed.

“Observation,” Neville replied simply. Harry felt himself blushing. He hadn’t realised before, but he could kind of understand what Neville was talking about. Blaise was pretty handsome when he thought about it. He’d developed a sharp jawline over the summer, not to mention he had a very nice smile. He had annoyingly perfect teeth and a slight curve to the corner of his mouth that creased his cheek in just the right way when he smirked or grinned.

Nothing compared to Malfoy though. Malfoy was much prettier than Zabini. He’d grown into his pointy features over the last year, his sharp nose balanced by even sharper cheekbones and chin. He had long eyelashes and heavily lidded eyes and he didn’t slick his hair back anymore, letting it fall in a wave across his forehead that tied the whole thing together nicely. Harry would say that Malfoy was probably prettier than a lot of the girls at the school.

He shook his head slightly. What was he doing? Malfoy hadn’t even been brought up. He tried to loosen the small knot in his stomach that wouldn’t settle and focus back on Neville’s face.

“Right,” he said, feeling a bit stupid.

“Come on,” Neville sighed good-naturedly. “Let’s get some dinner.”

Chapter Text

A few days later, Harry got his Firebolt back. McGonagall caught him on his way back from a Patronus lesson with Lupin to hand it over. Overjoyed by the turn of events, he rushed back to Gryffindor tower to inform Neville of his good fortune. Although he was confident in his seeker abilities, he’d been a little nervous about riding one of the school brooms for the match.

When he entered through the portrait hole, he was immediately accosted by a crowd of people wanting a look at the broom. As the mass eventually parted, he caught sight of Ron and Hermione sitting nervously in the corner of the room. Together. Strange. They glanced at him tentatively, and Hermione gave him a small smile, waving for him to approach. Harry did.

“Hi?” Harry said - eyebrow raised.

“Harry I-,” Ron started. He paused and looked up at Harry forlornly. “I’m so sorry Harry. I’ve – I’ve been a right prat about this whole thing and too proud to admit it,” he said in a rush. Harry opened his mouth, but Ron kept going.

“And I’m not just saying that cause you’ve got your broom back now! I promise! I already apologised to Hermione after lunch, and I’ve been trying to find you all day but I didn’t know where you were.”

Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione. She nodded at him, confirming Ron’s story. He sighed. He really did want Ron back as a friend. It wasn’t the same without him.

“Ron,” he sighed, holding up a hand in an attempt to halt his rambling. “It’s alright. Let’s just… we can just start over, yeah?” Ron’s worried expression transformed into a grin.

“Of course, Harry. Yeah, totally. I’ll – yeah anything you want. Do you want me to take the Firebolt upstairs for you?” he said hopefully. Harry inwardly sighed again but plastered a small smile on his face.

“Course mate. Thanks.” He handed the broom over. Ron looked as though he’d just won England the Quidditch world cup as he laid his awe-filled eyes on the Firebolt. Harry smiled at him again as Ron raced upstairs, holding the broom as carefully as he could. Harry turned to Hermione. She sent him a thankful smile.

“That was really mature of you Harry, thank you,” she said softly. Harry shrugged awkwardly.

“S’no big deal,” he muttered, feeling his face heat under her gaze.

“I’m really happy we can put this stupid thing behind us and just be friends again.”

“Me too,” Harry sighed. At that moment a strangled yell echoed down the boys’ staircase. Everyone fell silent as Ron emerged holding a bloodied bedsheet.

---

Harry thought that this was probably the end of Ron and Hermione’s friendship. The moment of peace he’d felt at the thought of his trio back together again shattered in mere minutes. He was still speaking to both Ron and Hermione, but it was becoming increasingly headache-inducing for him to do as, as each of them ranted angrily about the other during every conversation.

He honestly didn’t know whose side to pick. On one hand, the evidence suggested that Crookshanks had most definitely eaten Scabbers. On the other, Ron should have probably locked the bedroom door. Chasing rats was just what cats did. There were lots of cats around Hogwarts and it was Ron’s responsibility to keep Scabbers somewhere safe where they couldn’t eat him. Then again, Hermione should have also been more responsible regarding Crookshanks’ whereabouts.

The entire thing was giving him an awful headache. Once again, he found himself finding solace in Neville’s company.

On the day of the final Gryffindor Quidditch practice, Harry decided that he’d attempt to mend things a little better with Ron. After the first few days, he’d gotten a little better about bringing up Scabbers, and part of Harry felt a bit sorry for him about it. He seemed really upset. In an effort to cheer Ron up, Harry invited him to have a go on the Firebolt at the end of practice. This strategy worked perfectly, and Ron, too distracted by the Firebolt, completely forgot about Scabbers or Hermione for the remainder of the evening.

Harry went down for breakfast the next morning with the other Gryffindor boys who seemed to have formed a guard of honour for the Firebolt. The Slytherin team looked mutinous when they caught sight of the broom. Harry snuck a look at Malfoy and, noticing he was looking back with a contained smile, winked. Malfoy went pink and looked away. Harry, confused, went back to his breakfast.

They won the game, of course. Cho Chang never stood a chance against Harry’s Firebolt. The party in the common room went on all night and only stopped when McGonagall entered early in the morning to shut it down.

It was the happiest he’d felt in the long while – Ron and him friends again, winning Quidditch, having the Firebolt back, the start of his study group. He went to bed that night feeling extremely content. Thus, naturally, he was rudely awakened by Ron screaming his head off that Sirius Black had broken into their dorm with a knife.

---

Harry felt awful for Neville being punished so badly about the whole writing-down-and-loosing-the-passwords thing. He’d made a habit of getting Neville to tag along with him to any after-school activities so he could let the boy into the common room every evening. He didn’t like the idea of anyone having to wait alone outside with only the security trolls for company.

Thus, Neville sat in the stands during every Quidditch training session that week with Ron. Ron complained about this, saying that Neville “ought to learn his lesson for almost getting me stabbed by a mass murderer”, but Harry ignored him.

The shock with Black, along with the success of Harry and Ron’s renewed friendship had also sort of put reconciliation at the forefront of Harry’s mind – specifically reconciliation with Snape. He’d made up his mind. It had been long enough and no matter how Snape reacted, Harry at least needed to apologise. Malfoy was right. He stayed back at the end of their next potions lesson.

“Sir?” he said nervously, approaching the teacher’s desk as the rest of the class shuffled out of the room. Snape looked up sharply, slamming one of the drawers in his desk shut with a ‘snap’. Harry flinched.

“Yes, Potter?” he said coldly, glaring menacingly. Harry took a deep breath.

“I want to apologise – for how I spoke to you just after Christmas,” he said carefully, making sure to hold eye contact. Snape raised an eyebrow. Harry very much wanted to look away from his venomous stare but forced himself to remain impassive.

“Oh? And how did you speak to me, Potter?” Snape said icily.

“Rudely, sir,” Harry replied, attempting the politest tone he could. “I was wrong to speak to you in such a way. I regret that my emotions got the better of me.” He bent his head the way Malfoy had taught him to do as a sign of respect. He looked at the floor and listened to Professor Snape let out a sigh.

“It is painfully clear that my brat of a godson has coached you in how to perform this apology, Potter. I have never heard you be so polite in your life.” Harry looked up and smiled slightly, noting the hint of amusement in Snape’s tone.

“I don’t know what you mean, Professor,” he replied evenly. Snape set him with another sharp look, then brought his hand to his temple.

“I accept your apology, rehearsed though it no doubt was, Mr Potter.” Harry grinned.

“Thank you, sir.” Snape allowed his expression to soften.

“I should have been the one to approach you and resolve this matter myself. I would like to now offer my apologies to you, Potter. It was wrong of me to attempt to control your dealings with other teachers at this school. As you said, I am not your father nor your guardian. I am not even your head of house, and thus have no business in these matters. I hope you can forgive me for overstepping my boundaries.”

Harry looked at Snape, shocked but pleased by the turn of events.

“Of course, sir!” he said at once. “It’s alright.”

“Thank you for coming to speak with me about this, Potter. I admit that I was afraid you would not want to associate with me anymore and I did not wish to be offering apologies I thought you would not accept.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to ‘feeling-related’ discussions with his potion’s professor.

“S-okay,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. Snape rolled his eyes.

“Get out of my sight Potter before I change my mind about whether you’re welcome at my residence over the summer.” Harry grinned.

“Okay, sir. Thanks again. It’ll be good to have you not glaring at me during every potions class.”

“Out!” he yelled. Harry snickered as he hurriedly left the room.

Neville and Ron were waiting in the corridor for him.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“What was that all about?” asked Ron. Harry shrugged.

“Just my essay from last week. I’m gonna go to the library to finish off that report on banishing charms. You guys coming?”

“Sure!” Neville replied brightly. “Uh, do you mind helping me with the practical Harry? I still haven’t gotten it exactly right.”

“Course not. It’ll be good to brush up on it myself. You coming Ron?” he added, turning to Ron. Ron groaned.

“Ugh, fine. But I’m leaving if you guys sit with Hermione.” Harry shot him an annoyed look.

“Can’t you just –”

“No,” Ron said firmly, folding his arms across his chest. Sighing, Harry silently prayed that they didn’t spot Hermione in the library. He really didn’t want to be having to choose between his friends.

When they reached the library, Harry was relieved to not spot Hermione immediately upon entering. He spotted Susan, Hannah, and Ernie instead at a large table on the left. He’d agreed to keep the study group going in the library so he might as well start now. Neville, having caught onto the direction Harry was looking walked a few paces ahead of him and Ron, quickly taking the seat next to Hannah.

She smiled brightly at him in greeting, and he quickly started a conversation about Flitwick’s homework. Ron glanced at Harry.

“Uh, mate, there’s an empty table over there we can just sit at. We don’t need to share with Hufflepuffs. Don’t know what’s up with Neville.” Harry shot him an irritated look. He knew he hadn’t told Ron about the study group, but he thought that he might at least catch onto the fact that Harry spoke to Susan occasionally outside of class given their shared Arithmancy lessons.

“Neville’s friends with Hannah, Ron,” he said, as patiently as he could manage. “And I want to ask Susan about our Arithmancy homework. C’mon.” He pulled Ron towards the table by the elbow and greeted the trio of Hufflepuffs cheerily. Ron grumbled sullenly but didn’t say anything. He sat on Harry’s right side, leaving a free chair on Harry’s left with Susan and Ernie opposite him, and Neville and Hannah next to each other on the left end of the table.

It was a productive session. Harry asked Susan about the Arithmancy work briefly, and then they all worked on charms. Harry, as he’d promised, helped Neville with the practical once he’d finished off his report. They had a lot of fun banishing small items at increasingly farther distances away. They made a game out of trying to discreetly banish and then re-summon Madame Pince’s library stamps that were on her desk – Harry doing the summoning since he was the only one who’d read up on the fourth-year spell.

Ron, having seemingly gotten over his initial aversion to the Hufflepuffs, joined in with this task instead of finishing his report. Susan was telling them off again for giggling too loudly when Harry noticed someone approaching. He turned to find Blaise standing over him. Ron stiffened the instant he noticed the Slytherin.

“What do you want?” he said venomously, glaring. Blaise ignored him.

“So. Banishing spells, Potter?”

“Yup,” Harry replied, taking note of Blaise’s strategy in attempting to ignore the tension. “You need any help with them?”

Blaise sat in the seat on Harry’s left, much to Ron’s and Hannah’s shock.

“Mm, nah. Been practicing them with Tracey for weeks. Do you have the potions notes from today? I’ll trade you my astronomy notes.”

“Sure,” Harry replied. He reached into his bag and pulled out the roll of parchment, then performed a duplication charm on it.

“Excellent,” Blaise grinned, handing over his astronomy notes. He patted Harry on the shoulder. “Thanks, Potter. I have to say, I think you might be my new go-to for potions notes.” He scanned the parchment. “Draco always forgets the small details, you know? Thinks he’s too smart to forget them.” Harry laughed.

“No worries. Maybe don’t tell him that though. And especially that it’s my notes replacing his.” Blaise winked.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grinned, then turned to Neville. “Alright, Longbottom?” Neville smiled.

“Get it over with and just ask for my Herbology notes Zabini. I know what you want.” Blaise mimed a chest injury and sighed dramatically.

“You wound me, Longbottom! I simply wanted the pleasure of your-”

“What the ruddy hell is going on!” Ron interrupted. Harry winced. It seemed his friend had finally gotten over his stage of shock and was now in the anger phase. Blaise turned slowly and coldly to face Ron.

“Study, Weasley, or are you not familiar with the term?” Ron went even redder.

“Stop it Zabini,” Harry said firmly before Ron could escalate the situation further. “Ron, Blaise is just asking for notes.”

“He’s a Slytherin!” Ron yelled. Madame Pince shot them a sharp look. Harry sent back what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “And he’s friends with Malfoy!”

“Ron, he’s not Malfoy and he hasn’t done anything to you,” Harry tried to explain.

“What, so you’re friends with him all of a sudden!? What the bloody hell Harry! Since when-”

“Mr Weasley!” Madame Pince had finally gotten enough of the yelling and approached their table. “If you cannot keep your voice down, I will have to ask you to leave at once. This is a space for quiet study.” Ron shot Harry a glare.

“Fine!” he yelled, standing up. He grabbed his things and stormed out of the library. Students at other tables had turned to look and were whispering about the commotion. Harry groaned inwardly at what people would be saying tomorrow. Blaise gave Harry an apologetic look as Madame Pince shook her head and walked back to her desk, muttering to herself about Gryffindors.

“You didn’t tell him?” he said, raising an eyebrow. Harry put his head on the desk.

“And say what? I only just got him back as a friend. I didn’t think that it was the best time to bring it up.”

“Sorry, Harry,” Blaise sighed. Harry waved his hand and turned his head on the desk to look up at Blaise.

“S’okay. Not you’re fault. He was going to find out eventually and it’s not like you were doing anything wrong.”

“Mm still,” Blaise hummed. They sat in silence for a moment before Blaise turned back to Neville.

“So… have you got those Herbology notes or not Longbottom?” he smirked. Neville pulled out a roll of parchment from his bag. Susan rolled her eyes.

“Honestly Zabini,” she huffed.

Harry waited until after they’d finished studying to go find Ron. He wanted to give his friend time to cool off. The session had gone well after the initial drama. Blaise ended up staying to finish his Defence homework and fitted in well with the group once everyone had gotten over their initial shock. Harry could tell that Hannah was still wary of a Slytherin at their table though.

The other people in the library had been very quick to notice the unusual mix of people after Ron’s outburst. Harry attempted to ignore the muttering during the remainder of his time in the library but found it somewhat distracting, nonetheless. He was dreading what some of his housemates might say after the news got around. The gossip machine at Hogwarts was ruthless.

He was hoping that it would mostly blow over. He had to keep reminding himself that this was what he’d wanted. It was natural that attention would be drawn to the new inter-house unity at some point.

He thought over what he was going to say on his way back to Gryffindor tower. Would other people there already know? Would Ron have said something?

He pushed open the portrait hole. To his relief, heads did not immediately turn in his direction. He couldn’t spot Ron in the common room so quickly made for the stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

Sure enough, Ron was on his bed with a Quidditch magazine. He didn’t look up when Harry pushed the door open.

“Uh, hey,” Harry started. Ron remained silent. He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry.” Ron sorted.

“Yeah? You’re sorry? I should’ve known something was up.”

“What?” Harry said, confused by the turn of the conversation. Ron put the magazine down.

“Don’t act like you’re stupid, mate. You’ve been acting weird all year – always off by yourself – always avoiding Hermione and me.”

“What? Ron, you’re the one who wasn’t speaking to me!”

“It was before Christmas too, Harry. You’re never around anymore. I just didn’t realise it was because you’d replaced Hermione and me with Slytherins.” Harry gaped at Ron.

“I’m not- Ron, I’m not even friends with Zabini.” Ron snorted.

“Yeah, sure. That’s not what it looked like to me.” Harry sighed and walked a few steps closer to Ron’s bed.

“Look, I promise you, Zabini is by no means a close friend. I hardly know him. He asks everyone for study help. I’ve only spoken to him a little recently after he noticed my marks improving.” Ron raised an eyebrow. “Ron, please. It’s not like he’s Malfoy. I’ve never heard him say any of that crap the rest of the Slytherins do, and it’s just notes he’s after.”

Harry felt a little guilty stretching the truth like this. It was true that he wasn’t close with Blaise, but he also wasn’t opposed to being so. He also felt bad comparing him to Malfoy. It wasn’t a fair comparison when Malfoy had to be so much more careful about how he portrayed himself than Blaise.

“I still don’t trust him,” Ron said stubbornly. “He’s a Slytherin Harry. He’s using you.” Harry sighed.

“I know he’s using me, Ron. I’m using him back.”

“I still don’t like this, Harry. That’s a really Slytherin thing of you to do.” Harry felt his insides coil. “You would have done well in Slytherin”.

“It’s just easier than telling him to piss off,” Harry lied. “I don’t want more people hating me than there are already. I don’t need him and Malfoy both on my back.”

“Mm,” Ron considered, still looking sceptical. He sighed. “Okay, Harry, if you’re certain. But I’m still not speaking to him. You promise he’s not your friend?”

“Yes,” Harry said, feeling the guilt in his gut coil tighter. “It’s just how I’ve said. School stuff.”

“And the Hufflepuffs too?” Ron went on. Harry groaned inwardly. He really wanted him and Ron to stay friends. He didn’t need to be fighting again so soon after they’d made up.

“Yeah, I guess. But I’m more friendly with them than Zabini,” he added in an attempt to warm Ron up to the idea of inter-house friendship. It didn’t seem to work.

“Well, I don’t know why you bother with that mate. Hufflepuffs are idiots, everyone knows that.” Harry quickly clamped down on the anger rising in his throat.

“Sure,” he muttered, then desperately reached for a subject change. “Uh, you wanna listen to the Canons match on my radio?” Ron’s face brightened.

“That’d be brill Harry, thanks!” Harry smiled.

“No worries.”

He told himself that he’d just have to ease Ron into the idea more steadily. Obviously seeing him be friendly with Susan and Blaise so suddenly would be a shock. Ron had missed spending a lot of time with him. Now that they were friends again, he’d be able to adjust him to it. The white lies he’d had to tell would be justified soon.

---

When Harry went down to breakfast the next morning with Neville – Ron having slept in – he was relieved to find that nobody seemed to be making much of a fuss about his confrontation with Ron in the library the previous day. The most that happened was Parvati and Lavender asking him if he was alright, and Harry explaining that everything was normal again between himself and Ron.

Some of the Slytherins in Harry’s year were also sneaking dirty looks at Blaise while he contently ate a pastry with one hand and read The Daily Prophet with the other. Harry noticed that Malfoy wasn’t putting on as much of a show of it as he probably should’ve been. He was simply ignoring Blaise, a choice that contrasted starkly with Pansy Parkinson’s death glare.

Luckily, Harry was meeting with Malfoy that evening.

“What’ve you told Zabini?” Harry said. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Not much.” Harry scoffed.

“What? You’ll have had to say something to him about it all. He can’t expect you to be happy about it.”

“Well, he doesn’t expect me to be happy, but I just haven’t said anything. I’ve been acting sombrely forlorn and betrayed through mannerisms instead.” Harry laughed.

“I think that’s just code for ‘I’m a bad liar and Blaise will see right through me’”. Malfoy’s cheeks turned pink.

“Of course not,” he huffed, glancing away. “And it wouldn’t be a lie. I really do hate you.”

“Sure,” Harry drawled. “Course you do.” When this was met with silence he chuckled and hit Malfoy’s arm. “Is it really so hard to admit you like me?” Malfoy glared. Harry was amused to note that he’d gone even pinker.

“You are an insufferable and pig-headed git. I will admit no such thing.” Harry smiled even wider. Malfoy scoffed. “You’re an idiot.” It came out fonder than Harry assumed was intended.

---

The term continued steadily. Harry’s marks continued to improve as he became less and less concerned about keeping a lid on his magical power. It could always be attributed to his increased interest in academics and growing maturity. And besides. He figured that Dumbledore wasn’t around enough to really notice the drastic change in his magical abilities.

Harry also continued meetings for his study group. They held private weekly sessions that Harry was very wary of informing Ron or Hermione about these days. Ron was likely to become angry at any mention of Harry attempting inter-house friendship, especially with Slytherins, and Hermione was hardly around enough these days for Harry to need to hide anything.

He also found that friendships between the members of the group were quickly forming. It was now a common occurrence to see Susan and Padma sitting together in the great hall, or Anthony joining Harry and Neville during classes on occasion. The Slytherins were still very wary about being seen with anyone though, especially after what happened with Blaise in the library.

Harry had spoken with him and Tracey about how risky it was for them to be seen mingling with other houses too much. There were a select few older students in their house that would be only too keen to punish wandering third-year snakes. They assured him that given time and an increase in social standing, they’d be able to mingle more freely.

The group still interacted in the library occasionally but were careful to be subtle. If Harry was studying with either Blaise or Tracey, he made sure to put up quick notice-me-not charms to avoid unwanted attention from the likes of Marcus Flint or Flora and Hestia Carrow.

As exams approached Ron became irritated by Harry’s increasing desire to be in the library. He began to turn Harry down in favour of playing exploding snap with Seamus and Dean, saying that Harry was ‘almost as bad as Hermione’.

Speaking of Hermione, she and Ron had still not made up. Harry attempted to speak with each of them about apologising, but each was as stubborn as the other.

Another continued occurrence for Harry was his and Lupin’s Patronus lessons. By the end of March, he finally managed a corporeal Patronus.

“Well done, Harry!” Lupin cried as a silver stag erupted from his wand and forced the boggart-dementor back into its case. “Really excellent. You should be very proud of yourself.” Harry grinned.

“Thanks, sir,” he said breathlessly. He’d finally done it. In the end, he’d found that memories making him feel at home worked best. He’d made good progress using one of his friends, but what had really done it, was when he attempted to capture the feeling he’d had last summer. Simple things like him sitting in his room with his radio or going down to the village for lunch.

The one he’d used today was him and Malfoy playing Quidditch at Snape’s house – the moment Snape had called them in for lunch – like a real parent might of their real child.

He hoped to Merlin that Lupin didn’t ask about the memory. Lupin sat back in his chair and smiled serenely. Harry followed suit, chest still heaving from magical exhaustion. A few minutes passed in silence.

“How’ve you been, Harry?” he said eventually.

“Um, alright I guess,” Harry replied half-heartedly.

“Professor Snape has seemed in a better mood as of late,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Uh, yeah we sorted things out – apologised and all.” Lupin smiled warmly.

“That’s good to hear. Well, it’s getting late. You’d best be –” he stopped. Harry glanced to the side, confused.

“Sir?” He followed Lupin’s eyes to his robe pocket and glanced down. Shit. A corner of the Marauder’s map was poking out. But that didn’t make sense. It would just look like a bit of old parchment to Lupin. Harry frowned, confused.

“Harry, may I see the item in your left pocket please?” Lupin said carefully. Warily. Harry’s stomach knotted.

“Uh,” he said, slowly pulling out the map. “It’s just some parchment, sir. What’s –” he trailed off. Lupin looked up at his face sharply.

“I think I would recognise that distinct stain on that particular piece of parchment well enough to know that the ‘some parchment’ you hold in your hand is a map that in the hands of Sirius Black-”

“You know it’s a map!” Harry burst out, gaping at Professor Lupin. Lupin frowned.

“Yes, I know it’s a map, Harry. And I’m appalled that you didn’t hand it in. Did you never think how dangerous this would be if Black found it? Especially after Neville and that sheet of passwords.”

“But he wouldn’t know how to work it, would he? And how do you-”

“Harry,” Lupin said sternly. Harry was startled by the unfamiliar tone. “Black created the map.”

“WHAT?” Harry blanched. Lupin continued his cold stare.

“Black, along with myself, your father and Pettigrew. So, I’m sure you can understand why I must take it from you now – don’t,” he held up a hand as Harry tried to protest, “argue with me on this. Black cannot ever gain possession of this map.”

Harry hung his head, feeling appropriately guilty for his foolishness. He’d probably known, deep down, that the map was dangerous. But knowing its true origin only made him want it more now. To know that it was something his father had made – something his father had touched while he was in school. It was almost painful to see Lupin slide open his desk drawer and place the map carefully inside.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said dejectedly, head still lowered. Lupin sighed.

“I’m sorry to bring the evening to such a serious close, Harry. You’ve done very well today, and I want you to know that I am extremely proud of you.” Harry’s heart clenched and his body flooded with warmth at the praise. He looked up to seek the truth in Lupin’s eyes. Lupin was smiling again now.

“What you have accomplished is a feat many grown wizards never achieve. Remember that. I’ll see you next lesson. We have to see if your skills stick, don’t we?” he said mischievously. Harry brightened.

“Of course, sir.” Lupin nodded and Harry turned to leave.

“Oh, and Harry?” Lupin began again. Harry turned his head. “Do try not to think too much about Black, alright? Leave it to the adults. Focus on your upcoming exams. I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly.” Harry smiled.

“Alright sir,” he said. “Goodnight.”

---

The term continued. Harry and his friends were all drowning in homework and exam revision. Almost the entirety of Harry’s time was being taken up quidditch practice and schoolwork. It seemed half their year was in the library constantly these days. Harry had basically set up camp with Susan and Anthony at one of the tables, occasionally joined by Hermione when she didn’t get too frustrated with them talking.

Harry didn’t have a lot of time to spare these days, but he still made sure to continue the weekly study group and occasionally sneak out to see Malfoy in the evenings. This had become much more difficult since the confiscation of the Marauder’s map. Harry had to be extra careful to be quiet under the cloak now.

The days grew warmer. Harry made his way to divination with Ron and Hermione – a rare occasion. He’d managed to get them to be civil with each other on this day – Ron in high spirits for the upcoming Easter break and Hermione too distracted by her study to worry about being annoyed with Ron. They climbed the ladder to the classroom and found that they were apparently studying crystal balls a term early.

None of them saw a thing in the swirling fog. Harry couldn’t focus – Ron kept giggling and Hermione kept tutting disapprovingly.

“This is such a waste of time,” Hermione hissed. “I could be practising something useful.” Professor Trelawney rustled past.

 “Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?” she murmured.

 “I don’t need help,” Ron whispered. “It’s obvious what this means. There’s going to be loads of fog tonight.” Harry and Hermione both burst out laughing. Harry wasn’t usually one to mess around in class these days, even divination if he could help it – but Ron and Hermione were acting like friends again, and really – he couldn’t help but be in a good mood.

“Now, really! You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!”

Parvati and Lavender gave him disapproving looks and he shrugged at them apologetically. Trelawny approached their table and gazed into Harry’s crystal ball.

“There is something here! Something moving… but what is it? My dear, it is here, plainer than ever before… my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer… the Gr —”

 “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” said Hermione loudly. “Not that ridiculous Grim again!”

“I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don’t remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane.”

“Fine!” said Hermione suddenly, getting up. “Fine!” she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder, and almost knocking Ron off his chair. “I give up! I’m leaving!” She glared at Harry and Ron. “You coming Harry?” she huffed angrily. Harry blanched.

“I –” he looked around at everyone. He was a little annoyed at being put on the spot like this but then he looked at Hermione. He’d been planning to drop divination all year. And he still hadn’t – for what? Ron’s feelings? Ron could always sit with Seamus, and he didn’t exactly want Hermione to look like an idiot by herself. “Sure,” he said, resigned. Ron looked at him, betrayal on his expression.

Harry sighed and tried to give Ron his best apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he stood up and grabbed his bag from the floor. “I’ll make it up to you later.” Ron nodded glumly.

“Fine,” he said moodily. Harry looked back at Professor Trelawny.

“Sorry professor,” he said. “But I don’t think I really have the ‘inner eye’ anyway. Have fun with my grim. I’ll be sure to send you a letter detailing my gruesome and no doubt tragic passing.” With that, he followed Hermione from the room.

---

Ron eventually forgave Harry’s betrayal with a few promises to let him borrow Harry’s firebolt anytime he liked for the rest of the year – obviously excluding when Harry needed it for practice. The rest of their year had a lot of fun the following day talking excitedly about Harry and Hermione’s dramatic exit from Trelawny’s classroom.

The stories had gotten a little out of control – going so far as to say Harry had knocked Trelawny out by levitating all the crystal balls and sending them flying towards her head. Harry thought Fred and George were probably responsible for that one. It was a lot more creative than the usual exaggerations Lavender came up with.

Ron and Hermione’s hopeful reconciliation had sadly been stamped out with Hermione’s quitting from divination. Ron saw her attempt to get Harry to leave as her trying to steal him away, and he’d been reminded of Scabbers once more when Trelawny said she saw a rat in his crystal ball.

The Easter holidays came and went, though no one thought it was much of a holiday with the amount of homework they had. Most people were staying at Hogwarts to study.

Even more stressful for Harry than his workload though was the upcoming Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match, which would take place on the first Saturday after the break. Oliver was determined to win the season. Everyone was obsessed with the upcoming match. Ron even stopped being as annoyed with Hermione in the days leading up to it.

Gryffindor won, and even managed to get just enough points that they overtook Slytherin on the leaderboard, winning the season despite having lost the first match. Everyone was ecstatic.

The euphoria from Quidditch was cut short in a couple of weeks when exams rolled around. Everyone was stressed out of their minds. Harry was quite proud of himself coming out of them. He thought he’d done very well in Charms and Transfiguration, and he’d even earned full marks in his Defence exam. He was also hopeful about his Potions results but knew that Snape marked incredibly harshly.

On the day of the Defence exam – this being Harry’s last, he realised he was sick to death of the tension between his friends. He decided on a reconciliation mission. He managed to convince both Ron and Hermione to join him at Hagrid’s that evening, which they both begrudgingly agreed to only because Harry told them that Hagrid was sad to not see them together these days.

“Just this one time,” Hermione hissed to him, glaring at Ron. “For Hagrid.”

Ron still had his Divination exam and Hermione still had Muggle Studies that afternoon. After dinner, they went down to Hagrid’s together. Harry made sure to bring his cloak just in case. Hagrid had made him promise he would, saying that if he was going to allow them to visit him, then they had to at least be careful to look out for Black.

They made their way across the lawn in silence, Ron and Hermione bitterly ignoring each other. Harry sighed. This might not have been as good an idea as he’d thought.

“Come in!” Hagrid called when they knocked. “Ah, nice to see you three again!” he grinned as they settled into chairs around the table. Hagrid quickly brought them tea and biscuits. Hermione got up to help him, probably to avoid sitting near Ron. As she picked up the milk jug, she let out a shriek.

“Ron, I don’t believe it — it’s Scabbers!” Ron gaped at her.

“What are you talking about?” Hermione brought the jug over to the table and tipped it over. With a squeak, Scabbers fell onto the table. The rat struggled to escape but Ron grabbed him and held him up to the light.

“Scabbers!” said Ron blankly. “Scabbers, what are you doing here?” Hermione glared at him.

“See!” She shrieked, pointing her finger at Scabbers. “See! I told you, Ronald! I’ve been telling you all along!” Ron was still looking between her and Scabbers blankly, as though not fully comprehending what was going on. Scabbers was still struggling madly. He looked awful. Harry leant over to whisper in Ron’s ear.

“I think you owe her an apology, mate,” he said. Ron’s ears went red.

“Oh,” he said dumbly, going redder. “I, uh – well. I’m – I’m really sorry Hermione,” Hermione let out a sudden sob and then, to everyone’s surprise, flung her arms around Ron’s shoulders. Ron was so shocked that he dropped Scabbers who ran for the door. Hermione quickly leapt back.

“Shit –” Ron muttered. Hermione looked a little guilty.

“Come on,” Harry said quickly, not wanting another fight. Scabbers had already slipped under the crack between the door and floor. It might take forever to find him now – the uncertain light from the setting sun and the long grass. “Don’t wait up for us if we don’t come back Hagrid. We’re gonna go try and find Scabbers outside, kay?” Hagrid nodded.

“No worries you three. Go on, quickly.” He ushered them outside. They quickly ran onto the lawn; wands lit and searched the ground. After several minutes of combing the long grass, Ron let out a triumphant yell.

“Got him!” he cried. Harry and Hermione rushed over. “Keep still – you – stupid – rat!” Scabbers continued to struggle in Ron’s hands. “What’s the matter with him?”

But Harry had just noticed a pair of yellow eyes in the gathering darkness – Crookshanks slinking towards them.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione moaned. “No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!”

“Scabbers — NO!” Scabbers had slipped out of Ron’s hands once more and scampered away. Crookshanks leapt after him. Ron ran after them both. Harry and Hermione tried to follow but Ron was a much faster runner than either of them.

“Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here — Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —”

Harry and Hermione finally managed to catch up, both panting. Ron was on the ground trying to keep Crookshanks away from the squealing rat in his hands. Harry heard a low growling, then the pounding of gigantic paws against the earth.

It emerged from the gloom – an enormous black dog. Its jaws fastened on Ron’s arm, and it dragged him away, under the trunk of the Whomping Willow.

Chapter Text

“Ron!” Harry yelled desperately as he watched his friend being dragged under the Willow by the massive dog.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled. “Get back!” Sure enough, a branch whipped down at them, Harry only narrowly avoiding being knocked out cold as he ducked and stepped back.

“If that dog can get in, we can,” he said, determined. Harry threw his invisibility cloak to the ground and proceeded to try and find a path through the thrashing branches, ducking and weaving as they rained down blow after blow at him. Hermione was still standing a way behind him, bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously and just out of reach of the longest branches.

“Harry, no! It’s too dangerous!” Hermione pleaded. Harry ignored her, jumping out of the way of a thick branch hurtling toward him. He had to get to Ron.

At that moment Crookshanks darted out of the grass and ran low along the ground beneath the attacking branches of the tree. He placed his paws upon a knot on the trunk and the tree stilled, not a single branch moving. Harry stopped moving and stared in amazement at the now placid plant.

“How-” Hermione breathed.

“Come on,” Harry said urgently, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the tunnel Crookshanks was now also disappearing into.

They ran desperately through the tunnel as quickly as they could with their backs bent almost double. The tunnel went on for what seemed like forever – definitely just as long as the one to Honeydukes, if not longer.

Finally, the tunnel widened and rose, emerging into a dusty room with broken furniture and boarded-up windows. The room was empty.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “I think we’re in the Shrieking Shack.”

“Ghosts didn’t do that,” he replied, staring at the large chunks torn out of the various pieces of furniture strewn haphazardly across the room.

There was a creak overhead. They crept quietly upstairs until reaching a dusty landing and another door, which they pushed open to the sound of a low moan from inside.

To Harry’s brief relief, there was Ron – sitting on the floor beside a large four-poster bed clutching his probably-broken leg.

“Ron — are you okay?”

 “Where’s the dog?”

“Not a dog,” Ron moaned. “Harry, it’s a trap —”

 “What —”

 “He’s the dog… he’s an Animagus.”

Harry turned his head sharply to see what Ron was looking at. Standing in front of the now-closed door was Sirius Black – face gaunt and waxy – a far cry from the best man in the photo of Lily and James’ wedding.

He held up Ron’s wand but Harry, reacting instinctively, already had his raised.

“Expelliarmus,” Black croaked.

“Incarcerous!” Harry yelled. The spells collided in a blinding flash of red and orange light – both Harry and Black ducked. Harry’s spell shattered a bedpost, sending the canopy crashing onto the mattress and forcing Crookshanks to flee the wreckage. Black’s spell hit Hermione, who was standing off to Harry’s right.

Her wand flew out of her hand and clattered to the floor, rolling under the wreckage of the bed.

“Shit,” Harry cursed as he watched its path. Hermione had also been knocked to the floor by the force of the spellfire. Now it was just him. At least with Hermione armed, he wouldn’t be alone in the fight – mad adult criminal versus a short-for-his-age thirteen-year-old boy.

Black staggered to his feet. Harry did the same, still pointing his wand at Black’s chest.

“You’re quick, Harry. Much better than James was at your age,” Black grinned manically.

“Don’t you dare mention my father’s name,” Harry spat. “After what you did.” Black’s grin faded.

“I deserve that,” he said, almost in a whisper. “It was my fault – I told them to – I thought it was the better choice –” he was breathing heavily, eyes swivelling around the room. He turned his gaze back to Harry, staring at him with desperate grey eyes. “But today is the day I fix it.”

His expression hardened and his wand hand steadied. Harry was readying himself to cast another spell – probably a curse this time – something nasty that would make Black suffer – when, to his surprise, Ron spoke.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” he said fiercely, having gotten unsteadily to his feet. Black glanced at Ron with something like remorse in his eyes.

“Lie down,” Black said quietly to Ron. “You will damage that leg even more.”

“Did you hear me?” Ron said weakly, though he was leaning precariously on the collapsed bed to stay upright. “You’ll have to kill all three of us!”

“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” said Black, and his grin widened.

Harry felt as though he was blind with rage, his hatred for Black consuming every part of him.

“Furnunculus!” he yelled. Black only narrowly conjured a silent shield charm in time to block the curse.

“Harry!” he yelled, somewhat desperately now. “You don’t understand!”

“I think I understand perfectly,” Harry said through gritted teeth, as he shot out another couple of curses in quick succession – a burning curse and a whip curse – followed by a stunning spell. Black managed to shield the first but dived out of the way of the last two, rolling across the floor and getting to his feet again quickly.

The spells crashed into the wall, sending splinters across the floor.

“You killed them!” he yelled, now raining down non-verbal reductors on Black’s shield charm. “You killed my mum and dad! Fight back, you coward! Fight back!”

Black just stood there holding his shield. Hermione was screaming – holding her hands over her ears as the already broken furniture was shattered by Harry’s wayward spells. Ron was yelling – encouraging him – unable to help without his wand and with his broken leg.

“Get him, Harry!”

“Harry,” Black pleaded in a whisper. “Please! Just let me – you don’t understand! You don’t know the full story! Just let me tell you what really happened!”

Harry stopped his spell fire and glared at Black.

“I know exactly what happened,” he said, voice iced with venom. “You didn’t hear them. You can’t hear what they sound like every time the dementors get close – my mother screaming and begging Voldemort for my life – my dad telling her to run – and you did it! You’re the reason!”

Harry shot another curse which Black only half-heartedly side-stepped. He was staring at Harry with watering eyes. Harry hated it – hated the sight of him. How dare he feel any sort of remorse for what he’d done – the lives he’d destroyed.

“Please,” he said, voice barely audible. “Please, Harry.”

Harry was going to kill him. He was going to end this man’s life – damn the consequences. He held his wand steady and tried to think of a curse that would cause this man’s death as painfully as possible when the door burst open in a shower of red sparks.

Lupin came hurtling into the room.

“Expelliarmus!”

Both Harry’s and Black’s wands flew out of their hands and were caught by Lupin. Harry turned on the man, confused, shocked, and disappointed in himself for his failure. He hadn’t killed Black. He hadn’t been good enough. Black hadn’t even been fighting back. Lupin spoke in a tense voice.

“Where is he, Sirius?”

Black didn’t move for a few seconds, then raised his hand and pointed it at Ron.

“But then…” Lupin muttered, staring at Black intently, “… why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless – unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?”

Black nodded.

“What?” Harry said, staring open-mouthed at Lupin. “What’s going on? My wand–”

He didn’t finish what he was saying. All sense of a reasonable and logical reality had completely disappeared as he watched Lupin lower his wand, pull Black towards him, and embrace the man who had killed Harry’s parents.

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her.

“You — you —”

“Hermione —”

 “– you and him!”

 “Hermione, calm down —”

 “I didn’t tell anyone!” Hermione shrieked. “I’ve been covering up for you —”

 “Hermione, listen to me, please” Lupin shouted. “I can explain —”

“I trusted you!” Harry shouted at Lupin, “I should have known! All that stuff you told me about when you were friends in school – and it’s still true! You never really stopped being his friend! All this time! You betrayed them!”

“You’re wrong,” said Lupin. “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain…”

“NO!” Hermione screamed. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he’s a werewolf!”

There was silence.

“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” he said. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead. But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, “Get away from me, werewolf!”

Hermione and Lupin were still talking but Harry had tuned out of the conversation, his mind entirely focused on a way to get back his wand and which spell would be best used for incapacitating now both Lupin and Black in a two-on-one duel.

“I should have trusted Snape!” Harry yelled, the thought suddenly coming to him. Lupin, Ron, and Hermione all fell silent and looked at him. “He told me not to trust you – told me that he thought you might be helping Black into the castle because of what you’d been like at school. I was angry with him for weeks over that! I told him that his teenage grudge didn’t mean anything! I vouched to him for you! And he was right all along!”

“Harry – what are you talking about?” Hermione said, looking at him with confusion. Ron was also staring at him as though he’d completely lost the plot.

“Snape!?” said Sirius harshly. “What’s he got to do with anything?” Lupin gave Black a stern look.

“Not now, Sirius. Later,” Lupin replied curtly. Black fell silent but his expression had hardened with anger. Harry didn’t have to guess why.

“Harry, I have not been helping Sirius,” said Lupin. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —” he threw Harry his wand, which Harry caught. Lupin then pocketed his and Sirius’ wands.

“There. You’re armed, we’re not. Now, will you listen?”

Harry didn’t know what to think. Now that he had his wand, all the nasty curses he’d been mentally cataloguing for the past five minutes had escaped him as though obliviated. He just stood there, looking at Lupin. Was this some sort of joke? Was it a trick?

“If you haven’t been helping him,” he said, his brain moving slowly to filter out his rage and focus on the facts of the situation, “how did you know he was here?”

“The map,” said Lupin. “The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it —”

“Oh yeah, how could I forget. The map that you and your buddy Black here made in school. How fascinating-”

“I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut,” Lupin said, voice raised to interrupt Harry’s spiel. “Ten minutes later, you left Hagrid’s, chasing a certain person across the grounds.”

“We weren’t chasing a person,” Harry interrupted, pointing his wand at Lupin’s chest. “It was Ron’s rat.” Lupin remained calm.

“Oh, but you were chasing a person. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I thought the map might be malfunctioning. How could he be here?”

“You’re mad!” Ron scoffed.

“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two people into the Whomping Willow —”

“One person!” Ron said angrily.

“Do you think I could have a look at the rat?” Lupin said evenly.

Harry’s mind was working frantically to piece everything together. The map showed Black even in his Animagus form. Lupin referred to Scabbers as a person – seeing him with a name on the map. Harry lowered his wand a small amount.

“Who’s Scabbers?” he said, staring between Lupin and Black.

“What?” said Ron. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

“Everything,” said Lupin. “Could I see him, please?”

“If you’re lying about Scabbers as some sort of… some trick,” Harry said, still holding his wand, “I’ll kill you both.” Lupin smiled humorously and held out his hand towards Ron.

“Harry? What –”

“Just let him see the rat Ron,” Harry said sternly, gripping his wand tightly. Ron’s eyes widened in confusion, but he reached into his robes and pulled out the struggling creature.

“Will someone please tell me what Scabbers has to do with this?” Ron said angrily after a few moments of everyone in the room staring at the rat.

“That’s not a rat,” croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —”

 “No, he’s not,” said Lupin quietly. “He’s a wizard.”

 “An Animagus,” said Black, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

“You’re both mental.”

 “Ridiculous!” said Hermione faintly.

 “Peter Pettigrew’s dead!” said Harry. “He killed him twelve years ago!” He pointed at Black.

 “I meant to,” Black growled, his yellow teeth bared, “but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!” Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black’s weight fell on his broken leg.

Harry shot a spell at Black, and he was blasted backwards onto the floor.

“Get away from Ron!” Harry yelled. “You’re hurting him!” Black had managed to grab the rat’s tail in the scuffle and was dangling the squealing creature from his fist, staring at it with pure hatred.

“Sirius, NO! WAIT! You can’t do it just like that — they need to understand — we’ve got to explain —”

“We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, as Lupin tried to grab the rat Black was holding out of reach.

“They’ve — got — a — right — to — know — everything!” Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. “Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!” Black stopped struggling and let Lupin take the rat from his hands.

“All right, then,” Black said, without taking his eyes off Scabbers, “tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…”

Harry turned to Lupin.

“There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” he said. “A whole street full of them…”

“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Lupin’s hands.

 “Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,” said Lupin, nodding. “I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder’s map never lies… Peter’s alive.” He held up the rat for everyone to see.

The door to the room suddenly opened of its own accord. They all turned to look at the empty doorway, before turning back to Lupin as he told them the truth about the supposedly haunted shack.

Harry waited impatiently and sceptically as Lupin told the story – transforming in the shack every full moon – his friends becoming unregistered animagi to help with the transformations – feeling too guilty to tell Dumbledore about Sirius being an Animagus.

By the end of his tale, Harry had let his wand drop a little and was starting to question whether there may be some truth in Lupin’s words. Everything he’d said so far fit – the shack, him being a werewolf, the undeniable fact that Sirius at least was an Animagus. But that still didn’t mean Pettigrew was, and especially not Scabbers.

“… so, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along,” Lupin finished.

“Is someone going to explain what Snape has to do with any of this,” Black said savagely.

“He’s here, Sirius,” said Lupin heavily. “He’s teaching here as well.”

 “Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts –”

“I already know that,” Harry cut in with a roll of his eyes. “I know he doesn’t like or trust you because you were friends with my dad at school and had some stupid rivalry.”

Black, Ron and Hermione all looked at him in confusion.

“But how would you know that?” Hermione asked.

“Told me, didn’t he,” Harry said, looking at Black – daring him to say something against the potions Professor. Harry was satisfied to see a flicker of confusion and hurt across Black’s face.

“Since when are you on speaking terms with Snape?” Ron asked, none too politely.

Lupin ignored Ron’s question and turned to Harry.

“Ah, but did he tell you the full reason he doesn’t trust me, Harry?” Harry frowned and folded his arms.

“Well?” he said impatiently. Lupin smiled humorously.

“Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —”

 Black made a derisive noise.

 “It served him right,” he sneered. “Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…”  

Harry raised his wand sharply.

“Say another word against Snape and I’ll curse your limbs off,” he snarled. Ron and Hermione both looked at him with shocked expressions while Sirius promptly shut his mouth with a snap. Lupin ignored them.

He explained the trick Sirius had played – that James had warned Snape – Lupin’s lack of knowledge of the event.

“So…” Harry started slowly, “Snape thought you were in on the joke? And that’s the main reason he doesn’t trust you?”

“That’s right,” sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin. Harry turned to see Snape pulling off his invisibility cloak and pointing his wand at Lupin. Damn. He’d been stupid to leave it outside.

“Professor!” Harry said, shocked. Snape gave him a stern look.

“You’re wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?” he said, his eyes glittering. “I’ve just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight.”

“Severus —” Lupin began, but Snape overrode him. He turned to face Harry.

“Potter, I thought I’d taught you better than to go running after Black,” he said, disappointment evident in his tone. Harry bristled at the unfair assumption.

“Of course, I didn’t, sir. I thought it was just a dog I was following. I’m not that much of an idiot.” Satisfaction flickered across Snape’s face for a moment.

“I stand corrected, Potter. And I will also say that I’m glad to see that you are currently armed, while Black and Lupin are not. Well done.”

“Oh,” Harry said going a little pink. “I didn’t – Lupin gave it back – to try to explain – get me to trust him,” Harry rambled. Snape ignored him and stepped up to his side, joining Harry in pointing his wand at Lupin and Black in turn.

“I’ve told the headmaster again and again that you’re helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here’s the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —”

“Severus, you’re making a mistake,” said Lupin urgently. “You haven’t heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —”

“Two more for Azkaban tonight,” said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a tame werewolf —”

“Sir!” Harry yelled urgently. Snape’s head made a sharp turn towards him.

“You’ve done well, Harry, but it’s time you let the adult handle this. I’m going to take Black and Lupin up to the castle to face the consequences of their actions. You’ll get revenge on the people who betrayed your parents soon enough.”

“But Professor –” he repeated, feeling a little panicked now. “You heard Lupin tell his story, didn’t you?  I want to hear the rest of it – I want to at least see proof of their lies – at least be certain that we’re right about Black.”

Snape’s expression twisted in a mixture of emotions. He took a deep breath.

“Harry, this man needs to be apprehended before he can do more harm. They’re both dangerous – they both tried to kill me when they were still in school.”

“I know,” Harry said desperately, not exactly certain why he was trying to defend Black. All he knew was that he needed the truth – and he needed absolute certainty on it. “And I’m not saying what Black did wasn’t wrong,” Harry iterated, glaring at Black, “but they’re not teenagers anymore. I’ve been having private lessons with Lupin for half the year. If he wanted to kill me, he’s had plenty of opportunities to do so. And so has Black,” Harry continued, the thought suddenly coming to him.

“Both times he’s broken into the dorm he hasn’t targeted me – he was there when he knew no one would be in the room at Halloween, and then targeted Ron’s bed while we were asleep.”

“Harry, you’ve let these men delude you with their lies. Sirius Black is a danger and showed he was capable of murder at the age of fifteen –”

‘Professor, please! Please don’t let your school grudge impact your decision this time – just hear them out. You’ve got a wand and they don’t –”

“It’s more than just a grudge you insolent child!” Snape snapped. Black made a move towards Snape at his words but backed off as Snape raised his wand. “He made my life a living hell – tried to kill me!” Harry had turned fully to face Snape now.

“I know!” Harry pleaded. “But I need to know! I need to know the truth! I need to know whether it was really him or if it was Pettigrew. Please, Professor. Just let them try to explain before you take them up to the castle. If it’s not really Pettigrew, then you can arrest them both, but I need to know. Just hear them out – for Lily.”

Snape’s expression fell at that. Harry held his breath. He’d gone too far. He shouldn’t have said Lily’s name. It was unfair of him to use her like that against Snape when he knew what she meant to him.

To his immense surprise, and relief, Snape lowered his wand slightly and spoke to Lupin.

“Speak,” he said quietly, still glaring. Lupin and Black were both looking equally as shocked, their eyes darting between Snape and Harry. Lupin took a deep breath.

“I think it’s time we offered you proof for our words,” he said. Everyone watched in silence as he held the struggling rat out in front of him.

“Come off it,” Ron said weakly. “Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean…” He looked up at Harry and Hermione for support, “Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?”

Snape pointed his wand sharply at Black, and Black didn’t even flinch, he just explained. Seeing Ron’s rat in the paper fudge handed to him – the missing toe – Pettigrew’s finger.

“Of course,” Lupin breathed. “So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?”

“Just before he transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…”

And he explained more – that Scabbers had lived longer than any ordinary rat ought to – how Crookshanks had realised what he was – how Crookshanks had helped him. All the while Harry and Snape kept their wands trained on Lupin and Black respectively.

Harry was still on edge, expecting Snape to snap and curse them both at any moment, but he didn’t. He remained silent and listened, expression blank.

“But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it.” croaked Black. “This cat —Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I supposed he bit himself… Well, faking his own death had worked once.”

As they kept explaining, Harry seemed to come to his senses.

“And why did he fake his death?” Harry said furiously. “Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!”

“No,” said Lupin, “Harry—”

 “And now you’ve come to finish him off!”

 “Yes, I have,” said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers. Snape placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry flinched in surprise and looked up at the man.

“I’ll do it, Harry. I’ll take them to the dementors,” he said.

“Harry, Severus,” said Lupin hurriedly, “don’t you see? All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed Lily and James, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed Lily and James — Sirius tracked Peter down —”

 “THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Harry yelled. “HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!”

“Harry… I as good as killed them,” Black croaked, his eyes wild with grief. “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I’m to blame, I know it… The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… I realized what Peter must’ve done… what I’d done…”

“Enough of this,” said Lupin sternly. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. The rat.”

“What are you going to do to him!?” said Ron in a panicked voice. “Don’t hurt him!”

“I’m just going to force him to show himself,” said Lupin calmly. “If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.” Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded.

Lupin reached into his jeans for his wand, but Snape spoke sharply.

“I think I’d better perform the spell, Lupin. I still don’t trust you.” Lupin hesitated for a moment as though he wanted to protest, but then nodded at Snape and held out the rat to him. Sirius looked mutinous but didn’t speak.

They all held their breath as Snape pointed his wand at the struggling rat. It certainly seemed to have some idea of what was going on. A flash of blue-white light filled the room and Scabbers was initially suspended in mid-air, then dropped to the floor – transforming grotesquely into a short man.

Snape dropped his wand hand in surprise and stepped back. Harry was also startled. They’d been telling the truth.

“Well, hello, Peter,” said Lupin pleasantly. “Long time, no see.”

“S—Sirius… R—Remus… My friends… my old friends…”

Black looked like he wanted to move towards Pettigrew, but Lupin held his arm firmly. Snape had abandoned his glaring at Black to train his wand on the short man.

Harry watched in disgust as Pettigrew attempted to convince Lupin of his innocence – insisting that he’d been hiding from Black all these years.

“I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,” said Lupin evenly.

“Innocent, but scared!” squealed Pettigrew. “If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!”

Snape suddenly advanced on Pettigrew, sticking his wand into his throat. Pettigrew shrieked in fear and cowered on the floor.

“S-Severus! You don’t believe them, do you! B-Black is mad! He tried to kill-”

“Don’t you dare speak to me, you pathetic piece of vermin,” Snape spat dangerously. “Is it true? Were you the secret keeper?”

“O-of c-course n-not Severus! I would never-”

“Don’t lie!” Snape shouted suddenly, jamming his wand further into Pettigrew’s neck so that he had to raise his eyes to the ceiling. The man was whimpering and sobbing at this point. Snape turned his head to face Lupin.

“Lupin, I am sorry to say that I do not currently have Veritaserum on my person, but I am willing to perform Legilimency on this man to confirm Black’s story. I will, of course, need you to make a vow not to report my illegal use of Legilimency. You too, Black,” he said coldly.

“Of course, Severus,” Lupin said, surprised. “Thank you.” Snape scowled. Black glared at Snape but followed Lupin’s example in swearing his vow.   

“What about us?” Harry said suddenly, gesturing to Hermione and Ron. Snape glanced at him.

“You are all underage and thus I will not be requiring you to make a dangerous magical vow. I assure you that my word against the word of three thirteen-year-olds will be satisfactory enough to ensure my legal safety should you share the night’s events.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all nodded, wide-eyed. Snape turned back to Pettigrew who was still sobbing. He rolled up his sleeve, pointed his wand at the man’s head and said ‘legilimens’.

Harry waited for a few moments in silence as Snape performed the spell. After a minute, he lowered his wand.

“It’s true,” Snape spat with disgust, looking down his long nose at Pettigrew as though he were the most disgusting thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

“N-No!” Pettigrew gasped through his sobs. “H-he’s lying! It was Sirius! Sirius-”

“How dare you!” Sirius bellowed, straining against Lupin’s arms. “I would have died! Died rather than betray Lily and James!”

“Remus!” Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him.

“You don’t believe this — wouldn’t Sirius have told you they’d changed the plan?”

 “Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter,” said Lupin. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?” he said softly beside Sirius’ ear. Sirius ceased his struggling and turned to look Lupin in the eye.

“Forgive me, Remus,” he said, his eyes full of regret. “I-”

“A matter for later, I think,” Lupin whispered. “I do not forget that I too thought you were the spy.” Black nodded and turned back to Pettigrew.

In the time they’d been talking, Snape had bound Pettigrew with a spell.

“Shall we kill him together?” Black said with a grin. Lupin handed Black Ron’s wand from his pocket and trained his own on Pettigrew.

“I think so,” Lupin said.

“You wouldn’t… you won’t…” gasped Pettigrew. And he turned to Ron, a feat made difficult by his bound state. “Ron… haven’t I been a good friend… a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ron, will you… you’re on my side, aren’t you?”

 But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

 “I let you sleep in my bed!” he said. Snape stepped forward.

“As much as I would love to see you both rot in Azkaban,” Snape sneered, “You will find that murdering this man will do you no favours with the ministry.”

Black and Lupin both looked at him in surprise.

“He’s right,” Harry said, stepping forward with his wand still raised. “We’ll take him up to the castle and hand him over to the dementors.”

“Harry! Severus!” Pettigrew sobbed. “You — thank you — it’s more than I deserve — thank you —”

 “I’m not doing this for you,” Harry said in disgust. “I’m doing it because — I don’t reckon my mum and dad would’ve wanted them to become killers — just for you.”  

Lupin lowered his wand and turned to Sirius.

“They’re right, Sirius. With Pettigrew alive, we can get a confession. You can be free.” Black lowered his wand too but continued to glare at Pettigrew in disgust.

“I’d still kill him in a heartbeat,” he said, “but if anyone deserves Azkaban, it’s him.” Snape scoffed.

“How lovely. Just know I’m not doing this for you, Black,” Snape snarled. “I’m doing it for Lily, and for Harry. Don’t get any ideas.” Black let out a humourless bark of laughter.

“Fine with me, Snivellus,” he snarled.

“Let’s go,” Harry said hurriedly, interrupting whatever argument was brewing. Snape and Black both glared at each other, then turned away, Snape levitating a sobbing Pettigrew into the air.

He jerked his head at Lupin, Ron, and Hermione.

“You three go ahead to make sure he doesn’t escape or transform. Harry and Black can go behind us.”

Black seemed to want to protest the arrangement but remained quiet after a sharp look from Lupin.

Together, the odd group entered the tunnel.

Chapter Text

Harry watched Hermione, Ron, Lupin and Snape all enter the tunnel ahead of him, Snape levitating a bound Pettigrew with the tip of his wand. Black was couched just in front of him, still glaring sceptically at Snape every few moments. Ron was being helped along by Hermione – his leg still broken.

“Uh, so how did you escape Azkaban if not with dark magic or something?” Harry asked, feeling a little awkward with the arrangement. How was he supposed to talk to the man that he thought had killed his parents for a year? And what did it mean now he was proven innocent?

Black turned to smile at him and happily told the story of his escape. Harry could tell Snape was listening too, though trying not to show it.

“Then I just travelled north as a dog for a while until I reached Hogwarts,” he finished.

Harry remained silent, pondering the story. Sirius cleared his throat.

“So, um, you were pretty good in that fight, Harry,” Sirius chuckled, flashing a grin. Harry could kind of see him as the man in the wedding photo when he did that. Harry smiled back, shyly.

“Yeah – um… sorry for sending all those curses at you. I was pretty angry, ya know?” Sirius laughed loudly and clapped Harry on the shoulder. Harry flinched slightly but found his heart warming at the friendly gesture.

Harry noticed Snape let out a quiet snort of laughter, but Sirius seemed not to hear over his own barking guffaw.

“Don’t apologise, I would’ve done the same if I were you,” he said cheerfully, as though he hadn’t almost been killed by a thirteen-year-old. “Sorry to not give you much back, not that I could’ve done a lot – what with the speed of those spells.” Harry nodded.

“We’ll have to have a rematch sometime once I’m free,” he grinned. “I could teach you a thing or two that I learnt back when I was fighting in the war. Where’d you learn to duel like that anyway?” Harry shifted awkwardly.

“Oh. Uh, I learnt most of those spells over the summer. Well, in the second half anyway – after your breakout. I wanted to be prepared in case you came after me,” he finished. This just made Sirius start laughing loudly again.

“Good on you,” he said. “I’d apologise for scaring you, but it seems to have done you some good. And it’s not like it was really my fault anyway – no trial and all that.” Harry smiled. “Oh, and I’m pleased to hear about your summer law-breaking. I didn’t let The Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery stop me either,” he winked. “We’ll make a Marauder out of you yet.”

Harry smiled at Sirius. He seemed to be a likeable person now that Harry knew he wasn’t a criminal or a death eater. He had a relaxed sense of humour and charisma that made him easy to converse with. Harry could see Snape stiffen at the mention of the Marauders. Yeah, Snape definitely wouldn’t like that. Harry, a Marauder? The man would probably rather die than let a Marauder stay at his house.

“I’m not sure if breaking laws to do extra holiday homework really counts as Marauder behaviour but thanks for the offer,” he replied lightly.

“Ah! But that’s exactly the thing Moony here would’ve done,” Sirius grinned, gesturing to Lupin who was leading the odd group through the tunnel. Harry laughed.

They fell into silence for a little while until Sirius stopped and turned suddenly to face Harry. The others didn’t notice that they’d stopped and continued walking.

“Harry,” he said, much more seriously.

“Yeah?” Harry replied, confused.

“Uh, I’m not sure if anyone told you but, I’m… I’m your godfather.”

“I know,” Harry said slowly.

“And, well… now that I’ll be free, I can take legal guardianship of you – if that’s what you want of course!” he added hurriedly. “You’d probably want to keep living with your aunt and uncle, I mean,”

“Oh,” Harry replied dumbly. “No, no, that’s… that’s really nice of you and everything. Um… I don’t really live with my aunt and uncle anymore, actually. They…,” he trailed off. “I don’t like them very much. But it was loads better last summer. Professor Snape found out about what it was like for me there and since he used to be friends with my mum, he went there and talked to Aunt Petunia. Then he let me live with him for the holidays instead.” Harry finished rambling and blushed, embarrassed.

Sirius blinked in surprise.

“You,” he said slowly, “and… and Snape? He let you live with him?” Harry nodded. Sirius was silent for a moment.

“Did… did you like it there?” he said slowly.

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. “I mean, I didn’t like him when I first started at Hogwarts. I think I reminded him a lot of James, so he wasn’t very friendly toward me. Then we started to connect more at the end of my second year and he told me a lot of nice stories about my mum. Living with him was loads better than the Durley’s. I mean, it was quiet since he was working most of the time, but I was allowed to do whatever I wanted and practice magic and quidditch and even visit the local village.” Sirius’ expression turned unreadable.

“So… so you’d rather live with him then?” Sirius said slowly.

“No! I mean, yes?” Harry replied awkwardly. “I… I don’t know. Can I not decide about it right now?” he said softly. Sirius smiled and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Of course, Harry. Take as long as you need. I still have to sort out where I’ll live once I’m granted my freedom anyway,” he chuckled. Harry smiled back, relieved.

“Thanks,” he said. They hurried back through the tunnel in silence to catch up to the others. They reached them just as everyone was starting to climb out of the passage. Snape glanced back to give Harry a disapproving look but didn’t say anything. Harry followed Snape out of the passage and onto the grass beneath the whomping willow.

“One wrong move, Peter,” said Lupin threateningly, pointing his wand at the man Snape still had suspended in mid-air. Pettigrew whimpered.

They began to make their way towards the castle when a cloud suddenly shifted, spreading bright moonlight across the ground. Everyone froze.

Lupin went rigid and began to shake.

“Shit,” Snape cursed, staring at Lupin in horror. “I forgot to bring the potion down.”

“Oh, my —” Hermione gasped. “He’s not safe!”

“Get behind me!” Snape shouted at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Sirius transformed into a dog and began whining and pawing at Lupin, who was screaming in pain from the transformation.

The three teenagers quickly scrambled to get back from the werewolf, Harry and Hermione both holding their wands out – Hermione having retrieved her’s from under the bed before they’d left the shack.

The wolf growled at them menacingly. Sirius – in dog form – was attempting to steer the werewolf away from them, snapping at it and trying to get its attention. It worked briefly, the wolf distracted by its old playmate, but then something worse happened.

While Snape was distracted by Lupin and Sirius, Pettigrew had dropped to the ground, still bound by invisible ropes. In the confusion, he began to transform.

“NO!” Harry shouted, noticing Pettigrew suddenly. Without thinking, he shot a red stunner at his rapidly shrinking form. To his luck, the spell hit, and the now rat-form of Pettigrew lay motionless in the grass.

Snape shot a stinging hex at the werewolf, who howled in pain and darted off towards the forest. Sirius went to chase after the wolf, deep red gashes visible across his back and muzzle.

“Sirius no!” Harry shouted. “Leave him!” Dog-Sirius stopped and turned to look at Harry.

“Potter is right, you stupid mutt,” Snape sneered. “The dementors are only a few hundred metres beyond the tree line. You’ll get yourself kissed. And you’re wounded,” he added with a glare.

Sirius transformed back into himself, breathing heavily and bleeding from several large cuts. Harry ran up to him.

“Where’s Peter?” Sirius gasped, looking around frantically.

“Here,” Hermione said quickly, having picked up the stunned rat from the grass.  

“Thank god,” Sirius sighed, letting his head drop.

The five of them walked up to the castle in silence, Sirius still glancing anxiously over his shoulder and Snape now begrudgingly holding a stunned rat in his hands.

They took the route to Dumbledore’s office, thankfully not encountering anyone on their way. Snape impatiently gave the password and the gargoyle stepped aside, allowing them onto the spiral staircase. He knocked on the door.

“Enter,” called Dumbledore tiredly from inside. They pushed open the door. Dumbledore’s relaxed posture immediately turned alert upon the sight of them. “Severus?” he said, half in surprise, half questioning. “And Sirius. My, my is there a story to tell here, I think?”

Snape stepped forward and placed Pettigrew on the desk between them.

“Sadly, Lupin will not be here to tell his part of the story because of his… condition, but I’m sure Harry will be able to fill you in on everything from before I arrived. I don’t trust this mutt’s version of events,” Snape sneered. Black glared at him. Harry stepped up beside Snape and began to speak.

---

Harry explained the story up until Snape got there, then let the potions professor take over. He left out some parts – like the extent of his duel with Black. He didn’t need the headmaster knowing he had intended to kill the man.

“I’m surprised, Severus,” Dumbledore said calmly when they’d finished. “I am aware of your feelings towards Sirius and Remus. I’m glad to see that you put aside your differences with them to catch the true culprit of Sirius’s crimes. How did young Harry here manage to convince you so easily?”

Snape eyed Dumbledore sourly. Harry too had wondered that. At the time he’d been too relieved to think about it, but now he felt there’d been something more to Snape’s decision. He didn’t know all of it – what’d happened between Snape and the Marauders, but he knew it wasn’t simple nor so easy for him to put aside.

“I simply wished for the true perpetrator of the crimes to be apprehended and Lily’s death to be properly avenged,” Snape said stiffly. Dumbledore nodded.

“Of course, my boy,” he said solemnly. “Well, I think it’s time we get the minister here to sort this all out and take Pettigrew into custody. Sirius and Ron will have to go to the hospital wing to get healed up by madame Pomphrey. I assume you two will accompany them?” he added to Harry and Hermione. They nodded. “Excellent!” he said, clapping his hands together.

---

Harry walked with Sirius, Ron, and Hermione down to the hospital wing, Sirius posing as a dog to avoid mass hysteria.

Harry and Hermione held Ron up between them, who still couldn’t support any weight on his leg.

Madame Pomphrey was clearly not pleased to be rudely awakened by three children, one with a mangled leg, and a bleeding stray dog. She took Ron over to a bed, cast a few spells on his leg, and instructed him to change into the hospital-wing pyjamas. She muttered darkly to herself as she took care of Sirius on the opposite bed.

Harry and Hermione also changed into pyjamas and sat on the bed beside Ron’s. After Madame Pomphrey had finished healing his cuts, Sirius came over to their bed and curled up with his head on Harry’s lap. Harry stroked the dog’s ears absentmindedly as he thought over the night’s events.

“Harry,” Hermione said softly from beside him. He turned to look at her, startled from his thoughts. Ron was also looking at him.

“Uh, mate, what was all that stuff tonight with Snape tonight? Why was he being so nice to you?”

Harry sighed deeply.

“Well… I haven’t been completely honest with you guys about some stuff that happened last year,” he admitted. Hermione sat up straighter and frowned.

“What do you mean, Harry?” she asked.

He tried to tell them as much as he could. He had to leave things out or twist the truth slightly in some areas to avoid mentioning Malfoy – that would do him no favours with either of them and might risk word of Harry and Malfoy’s friendship getting back to Draco’s father.

He told them that he’d been researching his family history alone to see if he could be traced back to Slytherin. He explained his discovery of the familial magic blocks and thought Snape might be the only one who’d know how to lift them.

He explained their suspicion of Dumbledore and the need for Harry to subsequently learn Occlumency – Snape’s discovery of Harry’s life at the Dursleys – how he used to know Lily – Snape offering to take him in for the summer behind Dumbledore’s back.

“And I didn’t want to say anything to you guys because I wasn’t sure if it would get back to Dumbledore. And now you guys will probably have to learn Occlumency too because Dumbledore is the best Legilimens in the world besides Voldemort and he’ll see everything that’s been happening and put a stop to it. We don’t even know what his motivations are for any of it or whether it’s just a mistake, but we can’t risk it,” he rambled. “I can’t go back to the Dursleys.”

Hermione placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he took a deep breath.

“It’s alright, Harry,” she said sadly. He turned to look at her. She bit her lip. “I… I understand why you weren’t sure if you could tell us. I probably wouldn’t have believed you about Snape if I hadn’t seen what he was like tonight. But I’m still hurt that you didn’t think you could trust us.”

Harry nodded miserably.

“I just didn’t want you to have this burden too,” he whispered. Hermione patted his shoulder again silently. Ron took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair.

“Blimey mate… I mean… that’s a lot – and I’m sad you couldn’t trust me either,” he added, “but – but I understand where you were coming from. I haven’t been a great friend to you this past year. I know I should’ve been better. You didn’t deserve all that crap I gave you about the Firebolt – I just got so angry and stubborn about it, ya know?” Harry smiled slightly at Ron.

“Course, Ron, it’s alright. I already accepted your apology for that. And you guys proved yourselves to me tonight when you were willing to stand up to Black for me. That was brave of you to say, Ron,” he said. Ron brightened at the praise and puffed up his chest a little.

“But I wasn’t joking before,” Harry said, suddenly serious. “Now that you guys know about this, you’ll have to learn Occlumency too.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” said Hermione brightly. “Occlumency is such an interesting and rare branch of magic.” Ron groaned.

“We have to take extra private lessons from Snape?! Maybe you did the better thing in keeping this from us mate.” Harry laughed.

“He’s not so bad,” he said. Ron and Hermione looked sceptical.

Harry spent the next hour telling them stories about his summer with Snape – minus Malfoy’s visit of course. Eventually, he grew too tired to continue and them too tired to listen. Hermione went over to her own bed and Harry climbed under his blankets, Sirius still resting on the bed with him.

He fell asleep feeling content and hopeful that things between him, Hermione and Ron would improve now that he could share some of his secrets with them. He was sure that Snape would be annoyed with him, but what choice had he had? He couldn’t deny their questions after the night’s events. Snape would just have to suck it up and teach more Occlumency lessons to annoying Gryffindors.

---

The next day Dumbledore and Snape entered the hospital wing to tell them that Pettigrew had been taken in for questioning and admitted to his crimes under the influence of Veritaserum. They had also taken key memories from Severus regarding the event and were going to request memories from Professor Lupin once he was back in his human form.

Fudge had wanted to take Sirius in for questioning too, but Dumbledore had forbidden him from entering the hospital wing and assured the minister that he would personally monitor Sirius and escort him to a ministry holding cell in the morning to await his trial.

“But he’s innocent!” Harry protested. “You can’t take him to be locked up again!”

“I’m sorry Harry, but for Sirius to be cleared of his crimes, he will need to remain at the ministry until his trial. It’s protocol,” Dumbledore stated. Harry glared at him. Snape cut in.

“I wish to speak with Black and Harry before his departure, so perhaps you can allow him another hour until escorting him from the grounds,” he suggested. Dumbledore nodded.

“Of course, Severus. I have some business to take care of, but I assume you can handle these four until I return?” Snape nodded. “Marvellous. Well, I’ll see you all in an hour.” He left the room. Harry raised an eyebrow at Snape. What was he playing at?

“Um, professor?” Hermione said nervously. Snape turned to her sharply.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he said curtly. She glanced quickly to Harry and then back to Snape.

“I just wanted to let you know that Harry explained everything you’ve done for him this past year,” Snape sent an icy look toward Harry, “and we want you to know that we will not betray Harry’s trust or jeopardize your position here by revealing what he’s told us to anyone. And we’re willing to learn Occlumency to prevent anyone from forcefully discovering your secrets.” She looked at Ron encouragingly who nodded reluctantly.

Snape glared at Harry who shrugged.

“Very well,” he said coldly. “I will make arrangements for your Occlumency lessons. I would like to find a solution that does not involve me personally instructing either of you.” Ron brightened. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to speak with Harry and Black in private,” he said.

“Oh,” Hermione said, looking at Harry nervously. “Alright then.” Ron glanced between them.

“Uh, see you in a bit, mate.”

Snape led Harry and dog-Sirius from the room and into Madame Pomphrey’s office, which she had currently vacated to have breakfast. He cast a silencing charm on the door and Sirius transformed back into a man.

“What’s this about, Snape?” Black glared.

“Now, now, is that the way you should be speaking to the man whose memories are guaranteeing your freedom?” Snape said icily. Black’s glare faltered and he glanced at Harry. He took a deep breath.

“You’re right, Severus,” he said, the words seeming to take much effort. Harry didn’t miss the quick flash of surprise across Snape’s expression. “I owe you my gratitude for everything you’ve done this past evening.” Snape looked at him sourly.

“I assure you that my actions were not for your benefit,” he sneered. “This is the matter I wished to discuss with you and Harry.” Harry looked at him questioningly.

“I assume Harry has explained to you his living situation this past summer, and the many reasons for it.” Sirius nodded slowly. Harry had explained some of it, but not in detail. Snape continued. “The problem with this living arrangement is the need for absolute secrecy regarding it, especially from Dumbledore. Do you know why this is?” Sirius glanced at Harry. Harry spoke up.

“Sirius was there when I explained everything to Ron and Hermione. About what we discovered last year,” he said. Snape nodded, satisfied.

“Well, this problem can be solved once your freedom is granted. You see, I cannot take legal custody of Harry – the ministry would never allow it. I am a single man, his teacher, and an ex-death-eater,” he stated, as though he was merely stating his favourite colour. Harry blinked in surprise. “Not to mention I cannot risk jeopardizing my position with Dumbledore. He is the one who has been insistent on Harry staying with his blood relatives, and I am still unsure of his true motivations.” Harry and Black both nodded.

“As you are his godfather,” Snape said to Black, “You would be able to take legal custody of Harry, ending the need for us to pretend he is still living with his aunt and uncle. Is this something you are willing to do?” Harry looked at Snape in shock. Was this the reason he’d agreed to listen to Harry after the mention of Lily’s name?

“Of course!” Black said at once, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I would be thrilled to take care of Harry. I want to thank you, Snape, for everything you’ve done for him this past year.” Snape scowled.

“I don’t need your thanks, Mutt, I simply need your help in this situation. Harry should not have to live in secrecy and isolation for another summer. He should be able to freely visit his friends and go where he pleases over the holidays. He should also be allowed to go home over the Christmas and Easter breaks,” Snape said. Sirius nodded again firmly.

“I will do everything in my power to take care of Harry once I’m granted my freedom,” he vowed. Harry looked between the two men, feeling a little emotional. “Would… would that be alright with you, Harry?” Sirius asked nervously, looking down at him. “I know you said you weren’t sure…”

“No. No… I – thank you,” he said, a little choked up. “Snape’s right. You’re my legal guardian. But…,” he paused, “would I still be able to visit Snape’s house? I really liked it there,” he added quietly, “if – if that’s alright with you, Professor,” he added to Snape. Snape blinked in surprise.

“Of course, Harry,” he said after a moment. “You’ll always be welcome there.” Harry smiled.

“And the private tutoring you gave me last summer?” he said tentatively. Snape scoffed.

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” Harry turned to Sirius.

“Thank you for this,” he said. Sirius grinned.

“It’s no problem, pup, really.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder.

“Uh, I’d like to speak with Snape for a moment, in private if that’s alright,” he said to Sirius. Sirius nodded.

“Course, Harry. Take as long as you need. I’ll just be in the hospital wing.” He opened the door and transformed into a dog mid-stride. Harry closed the door behind him. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes?” Harry shuffled his feet.

“Is this why you did it?”

“Did what?” Snape said.

“Agreed to listen to me about Sirius and didn’t turn him over to the dementors?” Snape gave him sour look.

“I realised the possibility of this situation in solving our predicament and simply acted according to what would be best for you. I assure you that I share no feelings of goodwill with Sirius Black,” he stated.

Harry, suddenly overcome with emotion rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Snape’s middle. Snape took a step back in surprise, before apprehensively patting Harry’s head with one hand.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled against the fabric of Snape’s robes, attempting to hide the tears streaming down his face.

“You’re embarrassing yourself with this inappropriate display of emotion, Potter,” Snape muttered, but Harry didn’t miss the note of fondness in his voice. He stepped back quickly and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

“Sorry, professor,” he chuckled. Snape gave him a rare smile.

“Get back to your friends. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to hear of your new arrangement since you apparently tell them everything now.”

Harry waited with Sirius, Ron, and Hermione for Dumbledore’s return. Snape had left to check over Madame Pomphrey’s potions stores. They didn’t have to wait much longer before the door opened. Dumbledore swept inside. Sirius instantly transformed back into himself.

“I’m sorry, Sirius, but it’s time,” Dumbledore said sadly. Sirius nodded and turned to Harry. He pulled Harry into a tight hug.

“I’ll be back for you, pup,” he said quietly so that Dumbledore couldn’t hear. Harry just nodded.

“You’ll be cleared,” Harry said, trying to be confident. Sirius nodded and gave him a small smile.

Harry watched as Dumbledore led Sirius from the room. Ron placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’ll be alright, mate,” he said.

---

The rest of the term passed quickly. Hermione told Ron and Harry about the timer turner and that she’d be dropping Muggle Studies so that she didn’t have to use it next year. It turned out Harry hadn’t been the only one keeping secrets.

After giving his testimony, Professor Lupin announced that he’d be leaving the school at the end of the year. He explained to Harry that Sirius’ trial would likely be made public and therefore his status as a werewolf would be exposed. Harry tried to protest but Lupin had made his mind up about it.

Ron and he made plans to go to the Quidditch world cup over the holidays, and Harry met up with his study group one last time. That was another thing he’d have to tell Ron and Hermione about soon, but for now, he was alright. Now that they were all friends again, he’d be able to introduce them to some of his new friends without too much trouble.

Harry also found time to fill Malfoy in on everything that had happened. Draco was upset at missing all the drama, and it took almost three hours for Harry to tell him the entire story.

“Wow,” Malfoy sighed once he’d finished. “That’s –,”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. They were sitting in an empty classroom together in the dead of night. He yawned. “I think I should head off to bed. We’ve got the train coming tomorrow.” Malfoy nodded.

“Guess I’ll see you in the holidays?” Malfoy asked. Harry grinned.

“Course! You’re going to the cup, right?” Malfoy nodded and smiled. “Excellent,” Harry said. He stood up. Malfoy stood too. He was about to leave the room when Malfoy grabbed his arm suddenly and pulled Harry towards him.

Malfoy wrapped his arms tightly around him in an embrace. Harry blinked stupidly for a moment, then wrapped his arms gently around Draco’s waist.

Draco was quite a bit taller than him still – a fact which usually annoyed Harry to no end – but now it was kind of nice. He rested his chin on top of Harry’s head and held him close. Harry closed his eyes and squeezed back.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Draco whispered, his breath brushing Harry’s ear and making him shiver.

“Bye,” Harry said back softly, feeling stupid. Malfoy pulled back. Even in the dark, Harry could see his face was slightly pink. He smiled at Harry one last time and left the room. Harry stared at the empty doorway for a few moments, then hurried back to Gryffindor tower, his head spinning with a sensation he was unable to explain to himself.

Chapter Text

Daily Prophet 31^st June 1994

Sirius Black Innocent!

Breaking News by M. Carneirus

After this week’s long and grueling trial, the Wizengamot has declared previously believed mass murderer and Death Eater Sirius Black to be cleared of all charges.

Black, who was believed to have murdered Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles using a blasting curse on the 1^st of November 1981, was in fact not the caster of such a curse, proven by the use of priori incantatem upon Black’s wand.

Black himself also gave a Veritaserum-induced account of the 31^st of October and 1^st of November, as well as the events of the war leading up to these dates. He admitted under the truth serum that he was not a spy for the light, nor a member of The Dark Lord’s ranks.

It is now believed that the assailant of the crimes Black was accused of is Peter Pettigrew, previously declared murder victim of Black and friend of the Potter family until his capture on the eve of the 6^th of June 1994. For a recap of the events of the 6^th of June 1994 see page 7.

As our readers would have read two weeks ago, Pettigrew escaped a ministry holding cell by use of his rat Animagus form. Many were outraged by the blatant incompetence of the ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement in allowing this lapse in security, as they were made aware of Pettigrew’s Animagus form following his capture on the 6^th of June. No assailant for the allowance of Pettigrew’s escape has been made public yet.

Pettigrew’s escape not only delayed the trial by a week but extended its length by two days due to the absence of its key suspect. Thankfully, a Veritaserum confession was collected from Pettigrew on the evening of his arrest by ministry Aurors, helping to guarantee Black’s trial and innocence.

This confession as well as the Veritaserum eye-witness accounts and Pensieve memories of Hogwarts Potions Master Severus Snape, and ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Remus Lupin helped to corroborate Pettigrew’s confession. Ex-Professor Remus Lupin’s testimony was highly contested by many members of the public and Wizengamot due to the reveal of his Werewolf status, adding another day to the already lengthy trial. Many parents have also lodged complaints with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for allowing the appointment of such a creature to the Hogwarts Staff. Lupin’s testimony was ultimately and controversially ruled to be valid in the trial.

It is also believed that Harry Potter and two other Hogwarts students (see page 9 for a recap of Potter’s vanquishing of he-who-must-not-be-named on the eve of October 31^st) were present the night of the 6^th of June, however, they were not requested to give testimony against Pettigrew since all three are underage.

An arrest warrant for Pettigrew has been issued and a reward for his capture posted of 10,000 galleons. The ministry is asking anyone with information on his whereabouts to contact the Auror department immediately. Pettigrew is not to be approached if seen and is considered to be armed and dangerous. Photos of Pettigrew in both his human and Animagus form can be viewed on page 2.

The Black trial has brought the Bagnold administration of 1980 to 1990 under heavy scrutiny. Inside sources have revealed that many other accused Death Eaters did not receive trials upon their capture and were sent straight to Azkaban under the order of Bartemius Crouch, previous head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

There is now an ongoing investigation into the arrests of the Bagnold administration. This investigation is likely to reveal a number of other accused Death Eaters who did not receive trials, a fact which the current head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, is working to rectify.

This has been an unpopular decision for some who believe that allowing the trials of accused Death Eaters so long after the war, will lead to many old supporters of he-who-must-not-be-named walking free.

However, Fudge and Bones have been widely praised by many members of the British wizarding community for rectifying such a large miscarriage of justice.

“The Wizarding community needs to be able to trust in its justice system now more than ever,” stated Amelia Bones to the press on the eve of Black’s clearing. “The Black trial has revealed a huge problem in our system that we are working tirelessly to rectify. I can assure the public that such a great miscarriage of justice will never again occur under this current administration.”

Black was also granted a sum of 12,500 Galleons by the ministry in rectification of his unlawful imprisonment for the span of twelve years and his status as a fugitive for another. We, at the daily prophet, wish to offer our congratulations to Black for the outcome of his trial and our well-wishes for his future as a free citizen.

---

“Quickly, Severus!” Harry shouted, running down the steps. “He’ll be here soon!”

“Calm down, brat,” Snape said with an eye roll over the top of his book. There was a loud crack from outside. Harry raced over to the door and yanked it open. Sirius was standing in the doorway – hair no longer matted and stringy but shiny and flowing onto his shoulders in neat waves, the top half pulled back into a knot.

He was wearing muggle clothes – jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He still looked a little underweight, but his skin was no longer waxy, and his eyes were bright and full of life. He was grinning.

“Harry!” he beamed, pulling him into a hug. Harry grinned back.

“Hi, Sirius!” he said. Sirius pulled back and surveyed the house.

“Merlin, this is where Snape lives?” he said with a tug to the corner of his lips.

“What, were you expecting a cave?” Harry retorted, laughing. Sirius just chuckled and ruffled Harry’s hair. “I’ll have to show you the village. There’s this muggle clothing store you’ll love.” Black smiled.

“Sounds great, Harry. How about you go get your things, yeah?”

“Sure!” Harry pulled Sirius inside by the arm. “Just be a minute.” He raced back upstairs to grab his trunk, noting with amusement the stiff; “Black” Snape had given in greeting upon spotting Sirius.

He collected his things and raced back downstairs to see Sirius and Severus in a sort of awkward stand-off.

“I don’t want to hear it, Black,” Harry heard Snape sneer.

“Severus, I mean it,” Sirius insisted. “I really am sorry. It was wrong of us to go as far as we did back then. An apology is the least I owe you for everything you’ve done for me and Harry.”

“Potter,” Snape snapped upon noticing Harry.

“S-Sorry,” Harry said, glancing nervously between them. Sirius straightened. Snape’s expression softened a little. He looked sad to see Harry leaving. Harry took the rest of the stairs at a walk and placed his trunk at the bottom of them.

“Anything you need, Snape,” Sirius said formally. “Just let me know.” Snape glowered.

“I assure you I won’t.” Sirius nodded resignedly. Harry walked up to Snape.

“Thank you, Severus, for everything. Even if you won’t accept Sirius’ apology it still means a lot to me what you’ve done. Can I come back and visit soon? Will we continue our lessons from last summer?” he asked.

“I’m sure I can work out a schedule with your godfather once you’re settled,” he said, still frowning. Harry glanced back at Sirius nervously, then back to Snape. He gave him a small smile.

“Can I at least have a hug goodbye, Professor?” he said mischievously. Snape rolled his eyes.

“No, you cannot. I’ll see you later for the continuation of your occlumency lessons.”

“Alright,” Harry grinned. Amusement flashed across Snape’s expression for a moment. “See you soon! Thanks again! Let me know if you need any potions help,” he said.

“See you soon, Harry,” Snape sighed, the corner of his mouth twitching. Harry turned back to Sirius.

“Bye Snape!” Sirius called from the doorway. “Thank you!” Snape didn’t respond. Sirius grabbed Harry’s arm and suddenly he was being squeezed into thin air.

They landed out front of a large country manor house.

“Welcome home!” Sirius grinned. Harry stared in amazement.

“How the hell did you afford this place?” Harry said. Sirius laughed.

“It’s the Black family manor,” he explained. “The Blacks have a number of properties across England – oldest magical family in Great Britain and all.”

“But why didn’t you come here after you escaped then?” Harry asked.

“I wasn’t keyed into the wards for any of them – well except one, but that’s not a house I would ever want to visit again.” Sirius went silent for a moment. Harry didn’t think it was polite to ask what he meant.

“But now that my name’s been cleared, I can officially accept my position as the head of the Black family. My grandparents lived in this manor when I was younger. Now it’s just me and Moony here. Oh, and a couple of house elves. Blinky and Filly. You’ll meet them soon.”

“Moony?” Harry said in surprise. “You mean… Professor Lupin? Why’s he here?” Sirius chuckled.

“Not your professor anymore, Harry,” he grinned. “Uh, he’s been helping me to set up everything, while I was on trial and all – sort out my finances. And he’s staying here too. Now that he’s lost the defence position, he has to find another job. Bit difficult for werewolves to keep work.” Harry nodded.

Sirius pushed the front doors open to reveal a large entrance hall.

“Wow,” Harry exclaimed. Sirius grinned at him.

“Like it, ey? I’ll give you the tour, but you have to promise not to go running off or touching anything you shouldn’t until we’ve checked it all over. There are a few dark artifacts that we still need to get rid of. Moony hasn’t had time to look over everything yet.”

Harry nodded. He wasn’t surprised. He’d read a bit about the Black family when searching through his family history. They were very distantly related to the Potters – as of course, most pureblood families were. Every old wizarding name converged at some point in the last couple of thousand years. Draco had also told him a little about his mum’s side of the family. It didn’t seem like the nicest family tree to be a part of.

They spent the next hour exploring the house – stopping in various rooms where Sirius would explain what it was used for and its history. The house was so massive that it had a total of seven bedrooms, a dining hall, a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlour, and even a pool out back.

“This is my room just here,” Sirius said, gesturing to the master bedroom “And you’ll be staying here just down the hall, so if you need anything, I’ll be a knock away. Blinky’s already put your stuff in there and unpacked it for you, but you can change anything around that you’d like.”

“Brilliant,” Harry grinned. “This is amazing Sirius.” Sirius smiled back and ruffled Harry’s hair.

“Glad you like it, pup.”

“So, which one is Profes- I mean, Remus’ room then?” Harry asked.

“Oh,” Sirius said, suddenly looking awkward. “He-, he’s staying upstairs,” he coughed.

“Okay,” Harry said slowly, confused.

“So!” Sirius pivoted loudly. “Let’s go downstairs and grab some lunch, yeah?”

---

They met Remus, Blinky, and Filly in the kitchen.

“Harry!” Remus greeted cheerfully. “Enjoying everything?”

“It’s great thanks,” Harry replied. “Sirius says you’re staying here with us for a bit. Was there much to do before I got here?” Remus gave Sirius a look that Harry couldn’t decipher.

“Oh, uh, yes. Yes, I had to sort out all the legalities of the house – contacting Gringotts and all. I also had to sort out the transfer of your official guardianship. It wasn’t too difficult to convince your aunt and uncle – rather easier than I’d have liked,” his expression darkened, “but it’s all sorted now, and you’ll never have to see them again.”

“No complaints there,” Harry grinned.

“Oh,” Remus continued, “but there was an issue with Dumbledore.”

“What kind of issue?” Harry asked warily.

“He wasn’t too pleased that you wouldn’t be living with your aunt and uncle anymore,” Sirius said darkly, leaning across Remus to grab a sandwich. Remus smiled at him, and they seemed to share a moment without realising Harry had been watching. “Of course, he has no power to do anything about the guardianship change,” Sirius continued.

“He’s part of the Wizengamot, not the Child Services department of the DMLE. Didn’t stop him from trying though. Seemed to think that a flimsy blood protection magic would be better than thousand-year-old wards of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black,” Sirius said in a half-joking tone. Harry felt uneasy. He didn’t like not knowing what Dumbledore was playing at – trying to keep him at the Dursleys and tampering with his family magics.

They finished lunch to a lighter tone of conversation – how Harry’s studies were going and everything Sirius was planning to do now that he was free. It seemed to involve a lot of scaring the general public.

---

Harry woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely risen over the horizon. Breakfast wouldn’t be ready for at least an hour, so he decided on an early morning fly. Maybe Sirius would join him? He’d found out from Lupin last year that Sirius had been a decent Beater – good enough to get on his house team in sixth year at least.

Harry changed into some casual clothes quickly, then grabbed his firebolt from the corner of the room. Sirius’ room wasn’t far, so he only had to walk a few metres down the hall before he saw a crack of light under the door. Grinning to himself, he went to knock on the door, then stopped when he heard faint voices inside.

“They seem to be getting worse, Sirius,” Remus’ voice whispered from inside, his tone anxious.

“They’re not. I’m fine,” Sirius muttered firmly. Why would Remus be in Sirius’ room at this time in the morning? Curious, Harry leaned over to look through the crack in the door – having been left very slightly ajar.

Sirius was sitting up on one side of his bed, his hair plastered to his forehead by sweat. Remus was standing beside him in pyjama pants and an old t-shirt, holding out a shirt for Sirius to take. Sirius did, putting it on quickly over his bare and heavily tattooed chest.

“It’s not fine,” Remus said sternly.

“Moony,” Sirius sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll be alright. It’s better than what it was like in there anyhow. I’m brilliant – best I’ve ever been.”

“Padfoot, you’ve woken up in a cold sweat at an ungodly hour of the morning every day since you got back from that ministry holding cell. It took me almost ten minutes to wake you up just now.”

“Well, what would you have me do?” Sirius whispered angrily. “It’s not like I can just forget those twelve years of my life.”

“I just want you to acknowledge the problem, Sirius. And get help. There’s a new department in St Mungo’s called mind healing that they’ve just opened. They’re an experimental unit that’s using a mixture of magic and muggle psychology techniques. I’m sure we could enquire about the treatments for long-term dementor exposure –”

“I’m not crazy Moony,” Sirius whispered, somewhat desperately now. Remus’ expression softened.

“I know you’re not, Padfoot. We don’t have to talk about it now, alright? Just… think on it?” Sirius nodded. Remus smiled at him, then placed a hand across the back of Sirius’ neck. Harry didn’t register what was going on, until Remus bent down and kissed Sirius chastely on the mouth, angling Sirius’ head up towards him with his hand.

Harry quickly leaned back from the door. Oh.

As quietly as he could, Harry crept back to his room, flying all but forgotten. He laid back on his bed on top of the covers and stared at the ceiling.

Remus had kissed Sirius. Remus and Sirius were living together. Did that mean they were together? Properly together like a couple? Harry hadn’t thought either of them was gay. He didn’t know anyone who was gay.

When he was younger, there had been a few instances of his aunt and uncle voicing their displeasure against that kind of thing.

– Uncle Vernon angrily changing the channel when he’d spotted Dudley, aged eight, watching Queen’s ‘I Want to Break Free’ on MTV.

“Don’t know why they’re allowing that queer garbage to be aired on TV where anyone can see it,” he’d muttered. Harry hadn’t known what the word meant at the time, except that it clearly meant whatever Freddie Mercury was doing must be something you shouldn’t do.

During one of the only times Harry had been to London before learning he was a wizard (Mrs. Fig too ill to care for him that day), they’d strolled past two men holding hands. Vernon had gone purple in the face and Petunia covered Dudley’s eyes. Harry hadn’t realised what the big deal was until he got home that day and overheard his aunt and uncle loudly discussing the incident.

That was the first time he’d learned the real meaning of the words queer and gay. It was the first time he understood what it meant when the boys in his fourth-year class directed those words toward him.

His heart hammered against his ribcage. Of course, he knew that the Dursleys and the people in Surrey weren’t the best judges of whether something was okay or not. Of course, he knew that. But he hadn’t heard anyone in the wizarding world mention if homosexuality was treated any differently. Did other people know about Sirius and Remus? Had his mum and dad known? That is, assuming they’d been together before the end of the war.

Eventually, he decided to make his way to the kitchen for breakfast after a particularly forceful rumble in his stomach. He crept as quietly as he could downstairs and was dismayed to see both Sirius and Remus there. Sirius was bent over the table shovelling bacon into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in days, while Remus leaned against the opposite side of the kitchen island with a mug of coffee in one hand and a daily prophet in the other.

Even as they both looked up and greeted him, Harry did his best to avoid all eye contact, making a beeline for the frypan and piling eggs onto a plate.

After a few minutes of Harry awkwardly deflecting questions about how he’d slept and what he wanted to do that day, the pair seemed to catch on that something was bothering him.

“I’m going to go take a shower, Sirius,” Remus announced, hurrying out of the room. Harry heard the shuffling of a chair and the rustling of fabric as Sirius sat down on the chair next to him.

“What’s going on, pup?” Harry jerked his head up to meet Sirius’ gaze.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. Sirius raised an eyebrow, then his expression turned anxious.

“It’s not the living situation, is it? I know this must be a big change for you and I completely understand if you’d rather be with Severus or, someone else, I mean – you haven’t known me very long and I know this is all probably a big shock for you –,”

“No!” Harry startled. “Sirius, it’s not – no I love living here. I want to be here with you.” A wave of relief washed over Sirius’ expression. He smiled.

“You’re sure?” Harry nodded. “Well? I know something’s bothering you this morning. If we’re going to do the whole godfather-godson thing you kind of need to be able to talk about things with me,” Sirius said light-heartedly. Embarrassment squirmed in Harry’s stomach.

“It’s –,” Harry sighed. “This morning. I saw – you, and Remus – I wanted to ask you to go flying and – well… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have looked.” Harry stared at his plate. He felt Sirius draw back from him and looked up to his expression of concern.

“You saw… Remus in my room?” Sirius asked softly after a few moments. Harry nodded. Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his long hair.

“Merlin I uh… Harry, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“For not telling you the real reason Remus is living with us, for hiding things from you. And you must – I don’t know what you must think. And of course, I understand if you don’t want to live here anymore.”

“Why would I not want to live here anymore?” Harry said hurriedly.

“Because… well,” Sirius blustered anxiously, “Me, and Moony, and you must think it’s strange and – well, I’m not sure what you must’ve grown up thinking with those muggles and all.”

“No, no Sirius, it’s not like that at all.” Sirius met his gaze. “I mean, I was just surprised, and I wasn’t expecting it. But I don’t – it’s nothing against you being, you know. And it makes sense the more I think about it. You guys make sense,” he finished. Sirius still looked worried.

“So, you don’t care that Remus and I – we’re both men?” Harry shook his head slowly.

“No, I- I don’t think so. I thought at first, with everything the Dursleys had said – but I realised a long time ago that anything they thought was bad probably wasn’t.” Sirius smiled slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “Sorry I was so weird. I just wasn’t sure how to react. You’re my godfather and Remus was my teacher for a whole year, and I just wasn’t expecting it. I mean, I’ve never even met someone who was gay before.” Sirius smiled wider at that and ruffled his hair again.

“I guess I should probably explain everything to you then.” Harry felt his face grow hot.

“Explain?” he asked in a slight panic. Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

“Not like that, Harry. Don’t you wanna know how it all went down with Moony and I before the war?” he grinned. Harry smiled back in full now, relieved.

“Yeah. That’d be great,” he grinned.

“Grab your broom. I’ll tell you once you can beat me to the snitch.”

---

It turned out that Harry could very much beat Sirius to the snitch – multiple times in fact. As the air whistled around them and the sun warmed their skin, Sirius told Harry stories of his time at Hogwarts with Remus.

He told Harry about the ridiculous amount of time each of them had been crushing on the other without telling them, and how Remus had eventually kissed him in their sixth year. He told him how supportive James had been, and how they’d broken up towards the end of the war and finally been able to reconnect and heal from the hurt they’d caused one another over the last few weeks.

Harry also found out that Sirius wasn’t gay, but bisexual. He thought he was honestly more surprised at discovering that than his and Remus’ relationship. He had never even heard of the term before.

Harry was laughing at a story Sirius was telling of the time Peter had found out about their relationship as they landed.

“What about your family?” Harry asked, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. That seemed to be the wrong question as Sirius went quiet. “Oh, you don’t have to say anything, sorry,” Harry added abruptly.

“No… it’s alright,” Sirius said. Harry waited. “You have to understand, Harry, that being gay in the wizarding world is a little bit different from the muggle world. Wizards… tolerate it, for the most part. It’s not exactly frowned upon but not something that’s very out in the open either. The main people against it are the purebloods because of the whole ‘carrying on the bloodline’ thing. And maintaining the wizarding population, in general, is very important to a lot of people.”

“My parents – well… it was bad enough that I was friends with a Potter let alone a half-blood werewolf. I’m not sure if they ever knew we were anything more. I’d already run away to your dad’s by the time Remus and I started dating.” Harry nodded.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he added. Sirius broke into a smile and squeezed his shoulder.

“Nonsense, Harry. Don’t you worry about it. It might not be the easiest thing to talk about, but I want you to be able to ask my questions about anything you like. I’m your godfather after all.” Harry smiled.

---

Harry was feeling a mixture of emotions toward his accidental discovery of Remus and Sirius’ relationship as the next few days passed

On one hand, the pair seemed much happier and more at ease around the house and around Harry, no longer needing to hide their affection for one another. Harry wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed the eyes they made at each other from across a room before now.

But he was also starting to wish that maybe they’d keep hiding their relationship after several instances of him walking in on them kissing. He’d begun getting into the habit of stomping loudly outside any room he was about to enter.

Since the trial was over and Sirius cleared, Harry decided it was safe to tell his friends everything that’d been happening. He didn’t want to tell Ron and Hermione about Remus and Sirius yet of course – that was an in-person kind of discussion, but he sent letters to them letting them know that he was happy and safe living with them.

He also sent a letter to Draco. That one had for some reason been a little more difficult to write. Ever since finding out about Sirius and Remus, Harry couldn’t help but let thoughts of his and Draco’s friendship turning into something similar cross his mind. Every time they did, he’d shut them down, trying to convince himself that he was just being silly and making things up because of everything that was happening. But that didn’t stop them from returning, and it didn’t stop his stomach from twisting at the thought of the way Draco had hugged him at the end of last term.

He settled on a fairly short note explaining his living situation and asking Draco whether he thought his mother might be willing to reconnect with Sirius, now that he was cleared.

---

Remus had also drawn up a study plan for Harry to continue his lessons over the holidays. He was mostly studying with Remus, learning all sorts of advanced defensive magic, but once a week Severus would appear on the manor doorstep to escort Harry to his house, where he’d spend the day learning potions and occlumency, while also generally catching up with his potions professor turned slightly unwilling friend.

This also gave him the opportunity to have a rematch duel with Sirius, as his godfather had insisted. Harry wrote to Snape the evening prior, asking him to visit so that he could witness the duel. Severus hadn’t spent much time at the manor beside his quick appearance to escort Harry to their first lesson together. He still seemed insistent on avoiding Sirius, despite Sirius’ almost overly enthusiastic attempts at reconciliation. It seemed that a combination of his time in Azkaban, and Snape’s generous acts of kindness toward Harry over the last year had completely changed Sirius’ perspective on the man.

Sirius had tried very hard on the morning of Snape’s first arrival to invite him inside, much to Snape’s horror and Remus and Harry’s joint amusement.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Remus had muttered into Harry’s ear.

As it happened, Harry was pleasantly surprised when Severus apparated onto the front lawn at nine o'clock on the next day. Harry ran to greet him, grinning widely.

“If you dare to show affection toward me in any way, Potter, so help you, I’ll curse you to pieces before Black has a chance at you.” This just made Harry laugh. Remus and Sirius followed Harry out to greet Snape.

“Severus!” Sirius beamed, throwing his arms wide. Snape glowered at Sirius.

“I’d appreciate it if you refrained from using my given name, Black,” Snape replied icily. Sirius sighed dramatically.

“Well, back to Snivellus it’ll have to be then, old friend.”

“Sirius!” Lupin scolded, smacking the back of his hand against Sirius’ arm. Snape glared harder while Sirius broke into laughter.

“I am here to see Potter curse you into a matchbox and nothing more, Black. I’ll leave once it’s over.” Remus moved away from Sirius’ side and approached Snape.

“As you wish, Severus, but I want you to know that you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” Remus said warmly.

“Mm,” Snape hummed, “yes, I can tell from the over-enthusiasm of your dog, Lupin. I’d rather not have it drool all over me.”

“Why don’t we start the duel?” Harry cut in, stepping forward. He wasn’t liking the direction that this conversation was heading in.

“Of course,” Lupin smiled.

“To your position then!” Sirius barked. Harry grinned at him. He passed Snape on his way to the other end of the lawn.

“Can’t you play nice? Just for today?” he muttered imploringly.

“No,” Severus replied curtly. Harry rolled his eyes in amusement. And Snape thought that Sirius was the dramatic one.

He faced Sirius, taking the perfect duelling stance that Snape had taught him. He saw his professor nod slightly in approval out of the corner of his eye.

“Not going to go easy on you this time, kid,” Sirius grinned.

“I sure hope you won’t,” Harry replied.

“Duellists!” Lupin called above the breeze. “Take your positions and on my count of three, you may cast. One! Two! Three!”

Harry sent a silent stunner the moment Lupin gave the go-ahead. Sirius countered it easily with a shield charm, sending a jelly-legs jinx and a nasty purplish hex Harry wasn’t familiar with back at him in quick succession. He blocked the jinx but only narrowly managed to duck out of the way of the hex.

“Predictable, Harry!” Sirius yelled at him across the lawn. Harry didn’t give him time to finish his taunt before he was sending off nasty hexes and jinxes of his own. Snape had taught him most of those last summer. Sirius dodged and blocked and parried with graceful ease, sending some of Harry’s spells back at him with carefully placed reflection shield charms.

They danced like that for several minutes, blocking and casting and dodging. Starting to get bored, Harry decided to head some of Snape’s Slytherin duelling advice.

In between his flurry of spells, he summoned a bench atop the porch and sent it flying at Sirius. His godfather was caught slightly off guard but noticed the object in time to cast a quick reductor curse, then redirected the wood splinters in Harry’s direction. Harry, now the one in trouble, raised a shield charm just in time, but in his momentary lapse of concentration, he had failed to notice the disarming spell that snuck through the shield before it was raised.

“Damn!” Harry cursed as his wand was hoisted into the air and caught neatly in Sirius’ off-hand.

“Better luck next time, kid!” Sirius beamed, taking a few strides forward to hand him back his wand.

“Well done both of you,” smiled Remus.

“Looks like we’ve got more work to do,” Snape said coolly. “I didn’t see enough of that footwork I taught you, Potter.” Harry was still winded.

“Well, it’s been a while,” he managed between breaths.

“Mm.” Snape raised an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Snape,” Sirius said cheerily. “I know it wasn’t what you hoped for but plenty of room to train him up yet.”

“I think I’ll have to start teaching him some properly nasty curses. I’m sure Harry will find good use out of a couple that I invented myself back in the day. I always was disappointed at my missed opportunity to use them on your father and godfather back at Hogwarts, Harry. You can make it up for me,” Snape sneered. Sirius’ expression turned slightly sour. Remus placed a hand on his arm.

“That’d be brilliant,” Harry replied, grinning.

“But for now, there will be no maiming or irreversible spell damage in duelling practice,” Remus interrupted sternly.

“As you wish,” replied Snape mischievously. Lupin sighed.

“Come inside for tea, Severus, and I’m sure Harry would be happy to hear about all the nasty spells you invented during your time in Slytherin house.”

“Perhaps I’ll make an exception then, this once,” Snape sneered. “As long as you keep the mutt at the other end of the table.”