Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was his own fault in the end, he guessed. He was the one who had volunteered to inspect that specific property, despite his probably (definitely) lacking qualifications, what with being only a trainee auror and all, but also knowing full well that no one would refuse their "beloved savior".

He was not sure why he had volunteered, but he had felt a morbid curiosity towards the place where a blonde boy he once thought he hated, had grown up.

And it was mostly what he had expected; grand and painfully luxurious, unnecessarily dark, uncomfortably large and weirdly... sad. But what he had not expected, was the portrait. The little boy with a bright smile and an open expression. His curious nature and innocent inquiries. 

That was not the boy whose hand he had refused to shake, not the teenager he heatedly clashed against, nor the almost young man whom he had been unable to save.

It broke his already shattered heart even more.

He stumbled down the dark halls, mission of inspecting his surroundings abandoned, and desperate to escape a reality he was not ready to face, shadows he refused to examine hot at his heels.

He somehow got through the rest of that day, completely in a daze, his insides churning, yet pretending to be okay was something he had become quite excellent at, so no one at the Ministry was any the wiser, and thank Merlin for small mercies, that he did not have plans with Ron or Hermione immediately after.

When he got "home" though, (Number Twelve Grimmauld Place still didn't really feel like home, and the inside of the house was as dreary as ever, even if Kreacher had returned to happily serving his master, the many years of neglect and abuse had left its mark) the dam holding everything inside, broke.

He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that was wrong, just that the untainted portrait of a small Draco, made something inside him shift yet again.

His mind drifted, and he got lost in thoughts and memories, and then, he found himself in Sirius' room, sitting on the old canopy bed, draped in fading Gryffindor colors (just like Sirius's mother with the portrait, that had to be some serious sticking charm for them not to have been removed).

It was the room in the house where he felt most at ease, yet he had not been able to bring himself to use it. He looked around the abandoned room which still carried evidence of the bold, rebellious teenager Harry knew his dogfather to once have been.

Surrounded by broken keepsakes of the last living family he had (the Dursley's very much did NOT count, thank you very much) he felt the ever-present grief inside him well up.

Losing Sirius had broken something inside Harry, permanently.

If the world had been harsh and unrelenting throughout his formative years, devoid of care and kindness, yet monotone and repetitive, that all changed after Sirius.

Yes of course, going to Hogwarts and meeting Ron and Hermione was one of the best things to ever happen to him, and getting to know all his other friends, had been great, and Harry had suddenly known what it meant to care, even to love, someone else through it.

But Sirius... Sirius showed him a world he had never thought could be his, it opened a door to a future where he would be with Family, and a hole, a void, he had not even realized was there, was suddenly filled.

He knew.
And it was everything.
The world was still harsh, and he had to fight every day, just to be allowed to exist, but at his back was now someone else, someone whose sole concern was him! Harry!
It was strange, a little awkward, and frankly they were both horribly ignorant of how to be a family, but oh he loved it so.

And then, then came the night at the Ministry.
The Veil, and Sirius falling through.
It was a moment Harry would never be able to forget; the split second after Sirius got hit by the spell and stumbled just a little too close to something that should never have been disturbed, the fluttering silver-grey smoke engulfing him like a fine mist, Sirius meeting his gaze in one, last, glance.
Shock, sadness, regret, love.
And then he was gone.

If the world had been harsh and unrelenting before, it became cold, dull, even cruel, after he died.
Harry, The Boy Who Lived, a child that grew up with loss, knew then fully what grief was.

He had always fought back against the world, stubborn to a fault, indignant at the blame and pain others seemed to want to inflict upon him every chance they got.
Angry and rightfully so, yet innocent and hopeful, utterly excited for what his future would hold in a world where he felt he belonged at last.

Sirius' death took the last of that innocence and hope with him through The Veil, and left was a boy who now only knew anger, who expected nothing from the world, and saw only bleakness in his future.
He had a goal, he knew, there was still Voldemort, the very source of all his anger, the reason for most of his anguish.
So he continued on, never quite the same, more hollow, so very lost, but he learned in time, how to seem alright, how to fake a smile, and divert away any attention towards his mental wellbeing.

Ron and Hermione were the pillars of his remaining upright, and he would never be able to repay them, the two people left that he loved most. At first, they were walking on eggshells around him, waiting for the explosive anger that had become somewhat normal, and which they had gracefully accepted (okay maybe there had been a lot of snark involved, but still they accepted it) but it never came, towards them, there was none left.

And then later; Hermione was the one who kindly scolded him for his bad eating habits, which kept the already thin boy on the wrong side of underweight, and always made sure enough food made it onto his plate and stared disapprovingly at him until enough had made its way into his stomach.

Ron was the one to now walk at the front of the Golden Trio through the corridors, ensuring he would be the first to receive any stray hexes thrown Harry's way, and glaring the boy into submission when he tried to argue against it.

Hermione was the one who made sure to take detailed notes in every class (not unusual) so Harry wouldn't fall too far behind, what with his mind elsewhere, and then stubbornly walking him step by step through the needed aspects of their homework later, having forgone the nagging (unusual) for an unflinching will that would not take no for an answer.

It was Ron who would wake Harry up from his nightmares, a constant now, without any fuss, and a stern voice towards their dormmates to mind their own business if they woke up, sitting with him until he calmed down on his better nights, or holding him if he cried on his worse nights, sliding under the covers and making sure his harrowed friend felt the warmth of someone who cared for him, until morning came.

He would be forever grateful to them, his dearest friends.
They kept him fighting fit, as he liked to think of it.
And then there was, strangely, Malfoy (Draco).

The focus of his obsession, igniting fire in his veins. They had always been at odds, going out of their way to make life more miserable for the other - well almost, Harry gave as good as he got, but he usually didn't instigate - as the years passed the blonde boy seemed to only get more haughty, more self-assured, and definitely more of a pain in the ass, what with his growing arsenal of spells and hexes and all.

So, they ignited, and fought, and snarked, and it was familiar, it was easy, it was one of the few things Harry had that he knew he could always expect.
Until he couldn't.

In their 6th year, something changed. He wasn't completely sure at first, but it soon became clear that the Slytherin’s usual swagger had gone, his perpetual sneer was still there, but it seemed more to hide the boy within, than actually express any loathing at his surroundings.
He put up a decent front, Harry could tell - being someone with excellent skills in that department himself - but he saw; the wringing hands, the dark shadows under his eyes, the suddenly slightly gaunt look to his face as he definitely lost a bit of weight. But most of all, the usual hot anger was gone, replaced instead with a thousand-yard stare, or sometimes, the deepest, darkest, hate and despair.
The last bit shocked him a bit, and it took some weeks before he could convince himself that it was actually there, hidden away by a cold exterior, and it puzzled him.

Harry knew hate, he knew despair, better than most probably, and try as he might, he could not pinpoint a reason why.
It wasn't as if the blonde had a mass murdering dark wizard - who had directly or by proxy killed all of his family - out to get him.
Something was up, he was sure, but he didn't figure it out in time.
It seemed it was becoming a habit of his, to be just a little too late.

The result was more deaths, more grief, and the realization that Draco hadn't escaped Voldemort's cold grasp; it had become do or die for the youngster, so in the end, though he told no one, Harry couldn't bring himself to hate the blonde. Again, he knew despair better than most.

Then began the darkest times, the hiding, fleeing, hunting.
He was determined, no matter the cost.

When they met again, it was the end.
Amidst screams, explosions, blood, and dust, an insatiable fire descended upon them.
In the nick of time, he, Hermione and Ron sailed through the air above the raging inferno, which seemed almost sentient, following them around every turn, slowly inching closer.

And then, huddled on top of a rickety mountain of lost things, were the very reason behind their current predicament.
Two lone figures, trapped, and afraid, aware of their impending doom.
He tried to ignore it, he really did, as they flew past the duo, screaming for help from those they had only minutes earlier attacked.

Yet despite everything, all the years of clashing together, the intense dislike - not quite hate, no, Harry saved that emotion for only the most special people - he just couldn't do it.

He wrenched his broom around, face grim but determined, and heard Rons outburst of displeasure behind him, as he still immediately followed the raven-haired boy back into hell.
They had only seconds, the fire consuming everything around them.

Hand outstretched, leaning as far to the side as he could, he reached for the blonde boy, fire only inches from his feet, and their hands clasped together, and for a split second he breathed a sigh of relief.
But it was a bad grip, and they were out of time.

Silver eyes locked on green, another never-ending moment. They were like twisted mirror images he realized, as he tried to better his grip, still avoiding the Fiendfyre, and flying as fast as humanly possible, while off kilter from the sudden extra weight.

Draco realized a second before he did, terror like nothing else in his eyes, yet as he slipped through Harry's fingers, his face was set in grim resignation, and he fell without a sound.
There one second and gone the next.

Chapter Text

Harry, Ron, Hermione and a shell-shocked Goyle made it out, their clothes singed and smoking, coughing heavily but breathing in fresh air with desperate relief. Harry seemed to recover first, and he stared at the silent wall leading back into the Room of Requirement, feeling stricken and hollow, realizing how even more people had been left dead in his wake yet again.
This is only the beginning, an unwelcome voice whispered in his head.

For a few moments all was silent, and Harry looked down at the charred item in his hands, having spotted it just before escaping the room; a blackened diadem, which seemed to be oozing some sort of black goo.

As his friends gathered around him, and a still frozen Goyle caught sight of the thing in his hands, their brief respite was broken as the diadem broke apart with an ear-splitting shriek - 
Fiendfyre as Hermione helpfully supplied - was one of the few things capable of destroying a horcrux.

Mere seconds later, chaos resumed, as midnight had been reached, and the Death Eaters swarmed the castle.

What followed was easily among the worst nights Harry had ever had the misfortune of living through, friends falling left and right as the war raged on.
There did not even seem to be time to catch their breaths, as Voldemort "ever so kindly" granted them time to bury their dead.

In the end, as Harry fled the great hall, which was littered with the dead and wounded - all because of him - he ran to the Headmaster’s office, deserted even by the portraits. He relived the dying memories of Snape, and emerged from the silvery water, coming to terms with what he had known for quite a while, or at least heavily suspected.

How he had to die, to end it all.

Afterall; neither could live, while the other survived.
He realized it was why only anger or indifference had seemed to remain within him, as there was no longer any hope for anything else.
So the soldier-boy accepted the thing he had been molded into, and he did what he had been raised to do.

He walked willingly to his own demise.
Forfeiting any and all bonds that still tied him to life, he stood in front of the man, was he still a man? Whom had marked him almost from birth.
And so The Boy Who Lived walked calmly into Death's welcoming arms.

What followed, Harry was to this day unsure of how really to explain, even to himself.
He vividly remembered arriving in Limbo, at King's Cross, meeting Dumbledore and discovering the dying form of Voldemort.

He remembered the ever so slightly confusing conversation that followed, as the old wizard had seemed as fond as ever of speaking in riddles.

But he had a nagging feeling there was something else he was forgetting, something almost at the tip of his tongue, yet decidedly out of reach.

He decided it didn't matter though, not in the grand scheme of things, and he had been quite busy since he returned from the dead, what with the vanquishing of a Dark Lord, the immediate aftermath, the funerals, the trials, and the cleanup.

The Boy Who Lived was the savior of the wizarding world, and everywhere he looked, people were desperate to shake his hand, sing his praises, and raise him to a position he had never wanted, never asked for, but which had been forced upon him, nonetheless.

Once more, Ron and Hermione never left his side, holding their heads high, though the shadows under their eyes and the darkness in their gazes spoke volumes of what all three of them were going through, but had had no time to deal with.

They all had nightmares now, and they had taken to sleeping in the same room - usually the living room of Grimmauld Place, which was easily the most comfortable and furnished with a large fireplace - and despite how Harry tried to protest that he didn't need it (he did), his friends knew better by now, and shamelessly argued back that he had left them once, gone off to die on his own, and as a result, being close to him brought them relief.

They were family now, no way around it, and they spent little - if any - time apart, somewhat codependent but utterly unrepentant, as they had earned the right to be so.

When staying at The Burrow, not even Mrs. Weasley argued against the three of them sharing a room. And as it turned out, Bill took up with Percy, Charlie settled next to George and Fleur stayed with Ginny. Loneliness was not a foe any of them had the strength left to face on their own.

Even Hermione’s parents - after they together had tracked them down and broken the memory spell - was at last introduced properly to their world, and likewise spent a good amount of time at The Burrow, where they rediscovered the witch their daughter had become, came to know the friends she had made, and learned of the horrors she survived.

And now here he sat, one of the few times where they had split up; Hermione with her parents on a rare London outing, Ron with George at the joke shop which they were almost ready to reopen, and Harry agreeing to help with the seizing of properties, as to uphold the constant image the Ministry were plastering on the front pages.

Not that he cared at all about the image they wanted to portray, but he was picking his battles now, had finally learned how, and this was one task he didn't mind going along with.

So now he was alone, and he found he didn't like it, not one bit, as emotions he had not allowed himself to examine, were spilling over.

And he cried.
Not quietly either, but with giant, heaving, sobs that racked his entire body and left him gasping for air.
He cried and he cried, angry, and lost, and so, so, broken.
He was aware Kreacher had popped in at some point, covering him with a blanket where he lay curled up, and staying silently beside him until the sobs eased up, turning into more manageable tears.

That was how they found him.
Gentle as always as they made no move to shush him or get him to stop crying, aware that though painful, it was a necessary thing, and simply laid down on either side of him instead and held his hands as he drifted off to sleep, exhausted, but knowing he was safe with them beside him.

Chapter Text

It was dark when he, slowly, achingly, awoke again.
A lamp on the bedside table the only light in the relatively large room, casting it into a cozy warmth. He could tell Hermione wasn't to his left anymore, and he turned his head the other way, to Ron, who had sat up, cushioned by what seemed like several dozen pillows at least.

Harry squinted at the book the ginger boy was reading, inwardly surprised at how immersed he seemed to be. Someone - probably Hermione - had removed his glasses though, so he quickly gave up on trying to read the title, and guessed it to be something about quidditch, going by the golden blob he could see flittering around on the cover.

Harry kept quiet as he observed his friend, working on gathering himself as he was still completely worn out by his unplanned crying session, but he could tell the other boy knew he was awake.

One thing (among many) that had changed in Ron after everything, was his new aptitude for patience; silence wasn't something that made him uncomfortable anymore and waiting not an impossible task.

He could still occasionally have the emotional range of a teaspoon - which honestly had grown to be one of Harry's (few) joys to observe - but quite naturally, that did not happen among the three of them. They had come to know each other's souls inside out, and as such they were unusually attuned to whatever internal turmoil was going on.

"Alright mate?" Came the quiet question, which, even if they both already knew the answer, was enough for Harry to get on with it.
He sat up with a grunt and looked down at his now utterly wrinkled clothes in disgust.
It wasn't that he'd ever turned posh when it came to outfitting himself after the war, to be honest he knew most of what he still owned were rags and secondhand stuff, but he just hadn't gotten around to filling up a new wardrobe, which he did think he should.

But the one thing he had allowed himself to get used to, were acquiring several sets of pajamas and sleepwear - and only the best kind, which made a surprising difference in the comfort he felt during the night.

Harry had not been allowed comfort through most of his life, so it had quickly turned into a necessity for him, and he no longer saw a reason to deny it to himself.

As a result, he did not like sleeping in his everyday clothes, and even more so not in his auror robes.
The half-choked snort from his friend snapped him out of his musings and he looked up with a sheepish grin.

"Better now" came the belated answer in a croaked voice that made him loudly clear his throat.

The redhead simply nodded and closed his book, stretching loudly "Well let's get on with it then, 'mione went to make some supper - and by this I mean she went to fret next to Kreacher while he prepares the meal - saying how you would need some fuel after all this".

Before the war, Harry might have balked at that, embarrassed to be called out on crying like that, believing it to be weak. But for one, he knew better now, and secondly, though he had grown extremely guarded in regards to showing weakness, that was only the case with everyone else, and not his best friend, which the other boy knew.

"Sure, wouldn't want her to have and come chase our arses down the stairs" he replied lightly, happy with the amused grunt he got in response, and cast a quick accio for his glasses and scourgify on himself, before getting up, noticing the quick sideways glance his friend sent him as he did so.

"What?"

Ron simply shook his head with another amused little smirk, "You don't even notice it, do you?"

As Harry truly had no idea what his friend could be referring to, he shrugged.

"You just cast two wandless spells without even thinking about it mate" he supplied.
Thinking back, he realized he was right, but still he didn't know why Ron was pointing it out, which the other boy must have guessed from his expression.

"You've been doing that a lot more lately, ever since... well ever since then, wandless or wordless, sometimes even both, without skipping a beat. As if you've grown stronger or something is all".

Harry likewise cast a sideways look at his friend, as they walked down the dark halls, but just as he had assumed, compared to when they were younger - actually even during the horcrux hunt - Ron seemed unbothered by this fact, not a hint of jealousy in his voice even though his statement could have been something to be envious of.

"I guess... that's true? As you say I haven't really noticed, it's just, quicker sometimes" he mumbled, trying to think back.
The both of them were barely 19 years old, and while the trio had been forced to grow, to stay alive, and were now somewhat stronger than most of their peers (admittedly, most of their generation from Hogwarts could claim this as fact) Ron didn't display the same ease with a level of magic that the most talented witches and wizards spent decades perfecting.
In fact, not even Hermione, who had always been the brightest among them, could repeat the feats that Harry now didn't really think about.

"Great, just another freakish trait to add to all the others, I guess" he groaned annoyed, just as they entered the kitchen, which smelled divine.
Before they could comment on the amazing array of foods on the table though, or even squeeze out a greeting, Hermione's head had snapped up, and she frowned at the raven-haired boy with such an intense glare, that both he and Ron stopped dead in their tracks, and held their breaths as they waited for their judgement in regards to whatever they had done wrong.

"Harry!" She exclaimed unhappily, and he nodded, already agreeing to his misdeed, even if he didn't know what it was.

"What did I tell you about using such language to describe yourself!?" She chided him, not un-kindly.

He and Ron both sighed in relief, and Ron - his supposed best friend - even had the audacity to smirk at Harry as he sauntered into the kitchen, quickly greeted Hermione 'hullo' with a kiss to her cheek and sat down.

"Erhm, not to do it?" He tried questioningly.

She rolled her eyes, clearly not satisfied, before sending him another glare.
Oh.
He realized.
There was her clear displeasure with his statement in her eyes, but also anger (not directed at him), and sadness, which didn't surprise him, but fear, too, was evident.
He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, looking down, it was his choice of words then.
'Freakish' a word that even when he was the one using it, still made him flinch.

And of course, she would have noticed, over the years, how certain words made him flinch, and how 'freak' did so more than most.
He knew it was a bad habit too, to reaffirm the things his not-family had tried to beat into his skull for years.
He just needed it sometimes, the pain, and to be self-depreciating was almost a reflex by now.

"Sorry 'mione, I honestly didn't think about it" he offered in the end, and while obviously still not happy, it did appease his worried friend somewhat, and he dared enter the kitchen at last.
He too greeted her hullo with a kiss to her cheek, and sat down on her other side, making sure to smack his traitorous friend on his way, not even blinking at the indignant 'hey!' that followed.

"This looks amazing Kreacher, thank you!" Harry said as he took in the mini-feast in front of them, the old elf smiling happily as he put down the last of the dishes, he had obviously made an extra effort after witnessing his masters sorrow, and it in turn made Harry grin extra brightly at the elf, who almost blushed in return, which was not a look he could have imagined even in his wildest dreams.

"Bloody outdone yourself Kreacher, this is even better than the mash from Hogwarts" Ron blurted out between mouthfuls, having wasted no time in getting started, and while the elf scoffed at the bad table manners displayed by his master’s friend, he still looked proud at the compliment.

"Kreacher is an old elf, been serving the Noble House of Black for generations! To serve Kreacher’s master is his pride! Of course, Kreacher makes superior meals" he said proudly, puffing out his scrawny chest and humming happily as he went to pour their drinks, starting with Harry as always.

He was still a little unsettled by the clear devotion Kreacher showed him, even though he had yet to officially transition from Heir to Head of the Black Family (it was on the top of his long list of things to get done soon) there was no doubt about the elf's loyalty, and sometimes, Harry could swear it felt as if there was some magical bond between them.

"And you're sure you don't want to eat with us Kreacher?" Hermione asked with uncertainty, but was not surprised in the least at the elf's offended expression.

"Kreacher, eat with his master? Master's friend must have hit her head! Never would Kreacher allow such shame to befall him!" The elf mumbled heatedly as he finished pouring Ron's drink, who was still obliviously stuffing himself.
Harry choked down his laugh, badly disguising it as a cough, as he watched Hermione look put out, yet quickly pick herself back up just as the elf popped out of the kitchen.
While still not happy about the servitude of house elves, she had grudgingly come to accept that Dobby truly had been an anomaly, and most house elves were horrified at the thought of not having a master.
So she would still ask, but never try to force anything anymore.

As they filled their plates - Ron going for seconds - Harry stubbornly ignored the glances his friends were sending him, avoiding the discussion he knew was coming.

"Now what were you two talking about when you came downstairs?" Hermione tried, curious and apparently having decided to ease into the actual subject she wanted to discuss.

"I was pointing out how our Chosen One here seems to have grown stronger since, you know, in regards to wordless and wandless spells, and how he hadn't even seemed to notice" Ron interjected, and Harry kicked his friend under the table at his word choice.

"Give it up mate, you gotta get used to talking about the things people will always call you, and what better way than joking about it, oh dear Savior" the redhead added, grumbling while he rubbed his abused shin.

"Stop it you two!" Hermione ordered before Harry could kick Ron again.

They dutifully obeyed, and Harry sighed as he knew his friend was right, he had grown more accustomed to handling the topic of his 'near saintness' with all the little jabs the redhead kept sending his way. Like now, he was more annoyed than actually bothered, which was a huge leap forward compared to right after the war, where he would get either physically sick or unjustly mad at whoever called him by the many monikers he had gathered over the years.

"I'd noticed that too actually, you've always been the best when it came to the practical part of learning spells, not to mention DADA, but this is new, wordless is one thing, most of us had to learn that during the war, but wandless? Sometimes even both? Which kind of makes me believe it wouldn't only be sometimes if you actually thought about it, not to mention it wasn't as if you were trying to learn it! Even in A History of Magic, or Greatest Witches and Wizards of Our Time, and the second edition which included the last five centuries or..."

"We get the picture 'mione!" Harry cut her off, before she truly started listing all the books that might mention their current topic.

She blinked in surprise, as always not aware she had been about to go on a tangent, before she continued on, "Right, errr, as I was saying, while wordless and wandless spells are not like fringe theories or anything - that's a concept of something being so outlandish that it is rejected by the majority Ronald - it is still a discipline that takes time and effort to master, and even then, wandless is especially tricky. I myself have had only a limited success in the area. So, it is a peculiar development Harry, and yes you have always been powerful, but I wonder why you are suddenly experiencing such a big change, I'm sure there's a reason..." Her words drifted off as her brows furrowed and Harry could almost see the cogs turning in her head, as her impressive mind got to work.

Harry wasn't particularly curious about the subject himself, but he knew that had more to do with the fact that anything that made him different, or stand out, still made him uncomfortable. Another habit he was trying to get rid of; he was aware he would never be in a postition where anonymity was an option, so he might as well try to get ahead of it for once, he guessed, and if he ignored that it concerned himself, it was a somewhat interesting topic.

"Well, he did die and come back" Ron said, and two pairs of eyes turned to him in surprise.

"What?" The redhead exclaimed,

"It's true you know, not as if any of us don't know what 'The Boy Who Lived' refers to, you came back from the one thing no one comes back from mate, and only by your own power the second time around too”. That was a good point Harry conceded, an echo of a memory stirring at the back of his mind.

"And, you were a living, breathing, Horcrux for almost two decades; completely unheard of, which you then managed to get rid of, which would have changed you in some ways probably" the other boy finished, almost offended at the gobsmacked expressions on his friends faces.

"Ronald Weasley! You absolute genius, yes of course Harry! I can't even begin to imagine the strength you must always have been using to keep the horcrux in check. It wasn't as if the darkness of the fragment leaked out of you in the way it did the other objects! Your magic probably couldn't ever rest, which means you were always somewhat drained. Yes. Ron is right, I'll have to do some research of course, hmm, though there's probably not much material regarding this, so I'll have to focus more on the theoretic understanding of it, yes..." She mumbled, getting lost in her own mind yet again, making the boys glance at each other and shake their heads fondly, Ron happily going back to his food.

Harry really should too, he knew, still barely halfway through his first serving, yet while he wanted to know more about it, the topic was so closely connected to the war, and it made his stomach turn.

He pushed the food around on his plate for a while, contemplating if he could get away with not finishing. "Harry James Potter! Don't you dare make me spell your food into your stomach, you know I will!" A sharp voice threatened, and he startled, caught in the act so to speak, looking up at a stern-faced Hermione who had broken out of her musings. 

Harry huffed, pretending he hadn't been thinking about what he had just been thinking about, and from the memory of the last time she made good on her threat, was spurred into action, distracted enough for his stomach to have calmed down again. 

They settled into an easy atmosphere, Ron and Hermione bickering a little, with Harry shamelessly backing Hermione up - he hadn't completely forgotten how his traitorous friend had reveled in his being in trouble when they first came down - and after an opening question, Ron regaled them both about the new things he had learned from his book - quidditch indeed - which Harry made him promise to lend him when he was done, very interested in the chapters the other boy said focused specifically on new moves for the seeker position, and which Hermione dutifully pretended to listen to.

They had just thanked Kreacher for serving dessert as they sat down in the living room; a simply mouthwatering treacle tart, with clotted cream on the side, when Hermione turned back to Harry with a serious expression, and he knew she finally deemed it time to inquire into what had made him end up curled into a ball, inconsolable, and sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry grimaced, but he had known it was unavoidable from the beginning, plus it wasn't as if they had secrets from each other anymore, he had never even considered not telling them, he frankly just wasn't sure about what had happened yet either.

No time like the present, he thought, and started explaining.

Chapter Text

Harry slowly began explaining, mentioning the new decree the Ministry had put out, and how he had volunteered to go to Malfoy Manor - Ron scoffed at that and rolled his eyes so far back into his head Harry worried they might get stuck there.

"You did always have a very... observant eye for Malfoy, and I'm sorry we didn't listen to you sooner Harry" Hermione said, a small smile curling around her lips as she briefly locked eyes with Ron. Harry frowned and looked down at his lap as he rubbed his hands against his thighs, nervous for some reason.

"I know we didn't know any better, but you must have realized it too guys?" He said, knowing this was an important point to get across, and not simply a laughing matter. His friends looked back at him questioningly and he knew he had to explain in a way they could follow.

"We let the prejudice that was so firmly set in place long before we arrived, guide the way we thought, and influence the choices we made. We bloody well let it shape our lives! Why did we have to take our sorting as a literal divide in who we could allow into our lives? Why did we have to hate the Slytherin’s so much? We were 11 for Merlin’s sake, we didn't know anything then, yet we took the words of adults as law. Which I know is normal, but it doesn't make it less wrong!

"Malfoy was a prat for sure, a snobbish, annoying one, but evil? I don't think anyone is evil at 11, but I do think they have a foundation based on their surroundings. I met a posh boy in a clothing shop, and he parroted words he had heard from his parents, and because of that I branded him bad.

"I think we need to do better, this whole terrible war was based on prejudice, and I won't allow that to become our legacy. We have to do better, and don't get me wrong, I know these are things you agree with - obviously you're gonna be running the Ministry in a few years 'mione, and me and Ron will by then simply be your faithful minions - but it starts with us, waiting for others to take care of it is a moot point!"

Ron looked sheepish for a moment, before his face turned grave as he nodded along with Harry's words. Hermione smiled proudly at him, and already had that pondering look that meant she was calculating and planning.

Harry took a deep breath and added. "My heart broke, because I realized truly how much was taken from us, long before the war even started. That boy in the portrait... I can still barely believe it, and I was there! He was so obviously still Malfoy; he was proud and slightly haughty - but he was curious, he was funny, and he was open to what was around him, he was still his own.

"I would have taken the hand of a boy like that. And if he was there then, he must have been there too at 11. Our world became bigger as we entered Hogwarts, yet, what I didn't realize, is the many ways it became smaller as well. That has to change". As he spoke the words, he finally felt his heart settle a bit, and relief flowed through him.

He had needed to put it into words, to get a grasp on what had happened. Regret was such an ugly and heavy feeling. It clawed at the soul like nothing else, but it could not be undone, and as such, it had to become a lesson. First in that mansion and again later in Sirius' room.

"Sorry mate... I still think Malfoy was and would always have been a twat, but I hear you, I'm with you like always, even if I might need a push or kick here and there".

Harry laughed at that, warmth spreading in his chest.

"Of course, Harry, I've already been making plans, and I'm currently trying to write it down in the most systematic way to figure out the best way forward. And I already know I'll need you both!

"Harry you're an Heir, soon to be Lord, of at least two Noble Houses, I don't think you even realize the sway that alone holds - even if I'm not yet too familiar with all the rules and customs of this world, I still know that - and then there's your status in general. Not to mention you, Ron! You're from a pureblood house, and unlike me and Harry, you were born in this world, you know the ins and outs, and you have family literally everywhere, which will make it so much easier to get a grip from the inside. You might not be Heir, but your word matters, your image IS important and the both of us - along with Harry - are front figures from the war, which is not pleasant, but it is useful.

"I'm... muggle-born and proud to be, but... I hate that I have to say it, I hate that in our present, it's true to our society; but me being a muggle-born is currently a shackle in our world. But I am also brilliant! I am a force to be reckoned with! I cannot stand at the very front right now, I'll need you guys to get there, but I will eventually, and until then I'll be right behind you as we do better. Yes Harry, we'll not let prejudice become our legacy".

She reached out her hands, and Harry and Ron, both grabbed hers, and then each other’s hands, completing their small circle. Harry looked at his friends, their faces determined, and spurred by a sudden unknown instinct felt the need to add; "So mote it be."

They all gasped as a faint light linked their hands, swirled around them, soft as a gentle caress, and Harry lost his breath as the determination they had spoken of, settled in his bones, and by the looks of it, in his friends as well.

"Bloody hell mate!" Came the sudden splutter from his friend, his eyes comically wide from shock.

"That was magic herself, confirming our promise!"

Harry didn't actually know what that meant, but he knew it was true, still in awe of the approving whisper he had felt brush against his skin.

"I'm-I'm not familiar... I could feel it - her - but I - oh bugger; what in the world was that, Ronald??"  Hermione’s voice shook, but just like Harry, she was not afraid; it had not been a fearful thing.

The redhead rubbed his temples, sighing, before looking back at his friends. "I don't know much about this, it's not a common practice, and really only mum has ever somewhat explained it to us, but just as we swear on Merlin, we do so as well with Lady Magic, you remember this right?" At their slow nods he continued, "Lady Magic is the essence of all that surrounds us, magic is very intent and emotion based. Sensitive in many ways, just like how we have accidental magic outbursts as we grow up, it is magic reacting to us and our emotions, it strings our world together, it flows through us, it is everywhere, always and forever. She could be referred to as a god maybe - mum explained that muggles have loads of those - but it doesn't quite fit, she is not someone to demand sacrifices or devout allegiance. She is part of fate though, and as far as mum explained, she favors balance above all.

"I think what we felt, was her favoring our goal, probably because it will improve the balance of magic, and allow its spread. There is no doubt that all the prejudice, inbreeding, and narrow mindsets of our society hinder our magic instead of building it. And there are vows, which can be made, some are unbreakable, some are like collars around your neck, and some like this, is a promise."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, baffled, yet the sensation in their bones whispered in agreeance. But again, they were not afraid.

"I think mum called it a guide, this form of promise, like a compass to steer us in the right direction. Unlike other vows, there is no distinct punishment for breaking it, but I think we would always feel urged towards it."

Despite Harry's usual loathing of being pushed onto a certain path, his friends’ words made him smile brightly; this was not a cage forcing him in place, nor an iron grip dragging him along, it was something he had chosen, that now was filled with purpose.

"Well so mote it be I guess... fucking hell, I cannot believe how much I - we - have to read up on! Why are we not educated in this? Why are there no classes explaining all this? It's fascinating yes, but also, it seems essential. Is it just me who thinks this??"

Hermione was quickly getting worked up, and Harry didn't even have time to be surprised at her swearing, as for once, he was right there with her, and they glared so intently at Ron, that he shrank back in his chair and gulped loudly.

"As-as I said, it's not common! There are teachings for Heirs and Lords, and most Purebloods would have some form of knowledge on the subject, but it is not widely practiced anymore... like it's been forgotten, and I've never thought about it, but yes, it is kind of weird, I promise I agree!"

The trio sat in stunned silence for a while, surprised, in awe, upset, and considering. They could have sat there for hours, but their deliberations were cut off abruptly by a loud pop, and then suddenly Kreacher stood in their midst. Hermione started thanking him for taking care of the plates she had stacked on the table, but stopped, as the elf remained still, staring at Harry.

"What is it Kreacher?" Harry asked unusually gentle, as he sensed the elf was unsettled.

The old elf glanced briefly at his friends, or more accurately, at their hands, before turning back to his master who waited patiently for him to be ready.

"Kreacher sensed magic, old magic, which Kreacher knows has not been felt here for many generations" Again the otherwise stoic elf walked up to Harry and touched a pointy finger to his hand.

"Kreacher has seen many a vow and promises and followed orders regarding it. But Kreacher feels something new, something light and solemn, and magic is very happy."

Harry could not even feel properly surprised at the elf's words, he had experienced again and again how their peculiar magic worked, and how it was usually overlooked. Instead, he noticed something else, something he sensed had been there for a while, but that he had not been able to grasp. Until now. He kept quiet though, wanting to ask, but he instinctively knew it was a private thing, and that the elf would be unhappy with being asked around others. Harry could order him, and the elf would obey, but that was not how Harry ever wanted things to be. Despite what the wizarding world thought, Kreacher - house elves in general - deserved more.

"What does it look like Kreacher?" He asked in the end, just as eager as his friends to know.

"Kreacher sees a string, a light that swirls inside, it connects you three, it is bright now but already fading, settling inside you, Kreacher can tell it will soon be hidden beneath your flesh again, and Kreacher can feel the presence of her, surrounding the promise! Kreacher must be blessed, to be in her clear presence" The elf retracted his hand and looked apologetic at his actions, which Harry could not allow.

"Thank you Kreacher, it was kind of you to tell us.” the elf's ears perked up somewhat, and he bowed to Harry before popping away again.

"Still thinks he's bonkers that one, but he's improved a lot I guess, and cool to get confirmation on the thing" the redhead said, gesturing wildly to where the elf had disappeared. Harry snorted, and Hermione sighed exasperated.

Before they could sink back into their thoughts, Hermione clapped her hands, eyes bright, and Harry instinctively suppressed a groan, as he knew that look. She was already miles ahead of them again, and whatever plans she had made for them, were not likely to be ones he and Ron would be as enthusiastic about as her.

"Right, that's settled then, we really ought to get ready for bed ourselves, we'll have to get up earlier tomorrow and shift some plans around, we have some shopping to do in Diagon Alley, Flourish and Blotts alone won't do, and we best get there early to avoid as many people as possible, we'll be getting nowhere if you get mobbed by people again Harry!"

Though Harry wanted to object to that, he couldn't, seeing as only two weeks prior that very thing had indeed happened, so instead he grumbled unhappily under his breath.

"Wait, no, we already have plans for tomorrow! We can't just ignore that" He protested as his mind caught up - which Hermione seemed happy to be doing to him, as she rummaged around in her beaded bag, pretending he hadn't spoken, so he looked to his other friend instead.

"Let it go mate, not as if you're gonna win against her in an argument" Ron said nonchalantly, shrugging, which the raven-haired boy was almost offended by; for all the years they had known each other, he had yet to witness a time where the red head had enjoyed going to a bookshop.

"Why are you not objecting as well? You have an appointment with George! And I'm supposed to meet up with your dad to talk about some muggle device, after which we're all expected at The Burrow for lunch, and then that damned Ministry Gala!"

Again, his friend just scoffed. "What, you really think we're gonna leave you alone after a day like today? You do remember that we know you right? Everything besides the Gala can be easily pushed aside, and it makes more sense to do some - ugh - book browsing, than going to our separate appointments together. George will be fine for one day, or he might coerce Ginny into helping instead, who knows, and as for dad, I highly doubt it is something of great urgency, he'll understand."

Rather annoyingly Harry found his friend to have some good points, and it wasn't as if Harry himself was averse to book shopping, he just still struggled with being the reason others had to cancel plans and go out of their way.

"What about Molly?"

"Harry don't be daft," Hermione piped in, finished with whatever organizing she had been doing, "We're at the Burrow all the time, as long as we let her know, she won't mind, she'll be seeing us before we leave for the Gala anyway, to join up with the others."

Seeing as his friends weren't budging, and knowing they really would never leave him after a bad day - just as he wouldn't on theirs - Harry admitted defeat, though he still rolled his eyes.

"Yes, fine, I get it, Diagon Alley it is" he sighed, before he called for Kreacher to have him help rearrange the living room once again.

Hermione had tried doing it on her own, once, and the elf had not taken it well, displeased with having someone else attempting tasks he considered his, muttering about 'sloppy work' and 'no sense at all for decor' under his breath.

Ron had been roaring with laughter at that point, and Harry too, had had to fake a sudden interest in an object in the hallway, as to escape the eyes of his elf as he couldn't hide the way his eyes were tearing up, and shoulders shaking from the effort of trying to hold back his laughter. So, they let the old elf do the rearranging. They only separated to get ready for sleep, stopping briefly in their assigned rooms, which they honestly rarely used, and Harry used this moment to call for Kreacher, as they needed the privacy.

The elf seemed to almost have been waiting, as Harry didn't even finish uttering his name before he had popped into the room.

"Master calls for Kreacher?" The elf said, tilting his head, waiting.

"Sorry Kreacher, I know we don't really have the time right now, but I wanted to let you know that I sensed it." he began, and the small creature froze, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.

"I don't know what it means, and I'm starting to realize there might be a lot more I have no clue about than I thought, but for a while now, I have wondered why you serve me so faithfully. I know I am Heir Black, but I knew there was something else, some sort of bond I couldn't explain," the elf looked almost scared then, as if he couldn't believe what Harry was saying.

"But that's just it, isn't it? We are bonded. Which I get the feeling isn't common, but we are, and I think it's why you've been getting healthier for a while now, and why I don't even think twice about being your master, this isn't like what Dobby or Winky talked about, or what you did for that matter. You are not my slave, and you never will be, yet I'm starting to think one of the reasons house elves so adamantly stay in the employ of wizards, is because you need it. I can feel my magic going to you, surrounding you, and, I think, sustaining you. Am I right so far?" Harry asked solemnly, and as the elf nodded, ears quivering and eyes holding back tears, he kneeled in front of the smaller form, to make sure they were on eye level.

"Again, I will need you to fill in all the blanks, all I have to go on is the fact that I can sense the bond between us, it's not complete yet, but I can tell it will be. And just because I want to make it clear, will I add this; for as long as you wish Kreacher, you will have a place in the House of Black, actually that goes for the House of Potter as well, but not because I want you to be forced to work, but because it is also your home. You belong here, and I think, the names belong to you as well - the elf Kreacher of House Black and House Potter."

The elf was sobbing loudly by then, and surprisingly, he threw himself forward to be caught by Harry, who was startled yes, but quickly hugged the small form back.

"Master is right yes, there is a bond forming, Kreacher knew, but feared that if Kreacher say it, it would disappear."

"I promise it won't Kreacher, and you don't have to call me Master if-" but he was cut off by the elf violently shaking his head as he pulled back just enough to look up.

"No Kreacher is right in saying Master, Kreacher is your house elf, in the true way, if Master accepts Kreacher after he becomes Lord, it will become a bond that cannot be broken, apart from in death. Master will be Master because Kreacher accepts this bond as well, it cannot be forced, and in return for Kreacher being a faithful subject, Masters magic will protect and bond with Kreacher".

Harry considered protesting, but as he looked into the bulbous eyes of the almost grinning elf, he could feel it to be true. Which he realized he probably shouldn't accept so easily, but magic soothed his mind, and he knew in his heart that this was not a slave contract. Kreacher would truly belong to the houses that Harry belonged to, because he chose to, because he wanted to, it was his true purpose to be bonded and in turn fulfilled by his chosen witch or wizard’s magic.

So, Harry smiled back and chuckled. "I accept you now Kreacher, and I will accept you when I become Lord as well."

Once more the elf hugged him tightly, and he hugged back, waiting for him to calm down. The elf had just pulled back when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Did ya get stuck in the loo or something mate?" Rons voice carried through the door, and Harry stood up with a snort, it was one of his friend's worse excuses, to come check on him.

"No, you stupid git! But what, a man can't take his time picking out the right outfit anymore?"

And just as he had known he would, the other boy burst through the door, wrinkling his nose at his friends’ words.

"Not for sleeping he can't, come on mate I know you enjoy your 'sensible sleep things' but you can't have that many to choose from! Oh hey Kreacher, you helping this slowpoke decide?" The redhead quickly asked as he spotted the elf by Harry's side.

Knowing said elf had no problems lying to people apart from him, he just smirked as the still smiling elf, harrumphed loudly - Harry was going to tell his friends about what had happened soon, probably tomorrow, while they searched for books - but for now he would let the elf get settled with the new development.

"Young Master Weasley has no idea of what he speaks! Masters’ choice of nightwear is a big decision!" The elf snapped his fingers and the large wardrobe in the corner of the room flew open and a dark-blue, silken set of pajamas floated out and neatly settled on the bed right next to them.

"Kreacher knows Master prefers silk, it is when Master sleeps the best!" He said proudly and Harry thanked him, though he felt somewhat perplexed at the certainty of the elf's words, as if he had been monitoring his sleep. Which he realized, the elf probably had actually, and with a sigh the boy accepted that such a thing was nothing to wonder at for said elf.

"Yeah, yeah great that you picked a set Kreacher, now can we get going mate, I'm knackered, George had me test way too many new products today, and if we're getting up early too, I just wanna crawl under the covers already."

Which Harry thought was fair, it wasn't as if his friends had taken a nap mid-day, so he hurriedly took off his robes and put on the pajamas, and Kreacher had been right, silk really did feel the most comfortable.

"Coming, coming you impatient knob, so stop your annoying tapping!" Harry said, looking pointedly at the tapping foot in question, which luckily halted under his heavy gaze.

He walked forward and playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend's as he passed him at the door, and the familiar pop behind them let him know Kreacher had gone ahead.

Hermione was busy tending to the fire when they came back down, making sure that it would give off as much warmth as possible, which Harry knew was for him, he had been having a hard time staying warm since the war, the cold seemed to have seeped into his bones and decided to stay there.

He went to his usual spot; the soft one-person bed closest to the fire, angled slightly outward, with Hermione lying basically mirrored to him, and then Ron at the end, making up a wonky triangle, allowing all three to be within sight of each other at all times.

At some point they would hopefully be able to retire to their own rooms when going to sleep, but even if the war was a little more than a year in the past, it still haunted them, and they had no qualms doing whatever brought them the most comfort - ought to's and should's, most people and usually's held little meaning now - so there they lay, on conjured beds, in a dreary house, that despite everything, they had still made into their home.

Kreacher had taken care of the lights, so they lay in the flickering comfort of the fire, bickering quietly, talking about easy and mundane things, calming themselves until they were ready to welcome in the darkness.

As Harry slipped off to sleep, a last glance at the already slumbering forms of his friends - Ron as always snoring loudly - he pulled his blanket up higher, tucked it under his chin, and felt grateful that he was not alone, despite the scars they now carried, perhaps they could one day heal enough to feel whole again. And if not, Harry knew they would always be there to put one another back together, and maybe that could be enough.

Chapter Text

Harry awoke with a gasp, danger flashing through his head, as he sat up in bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.
He looked around frantically, wand already in his hand from where he rested it under his pillow.
Outside was still dark, though he thought it might be greying in the far distance, but as the fire was still - barely - going, he could somewhat make out the layout of the room.
Remembering to take calming breaths, he reached for his glasses and breathed in a sigh of relief as soon as he confirmed that his friends were still sleeping soundly around him.
It seemed it hadn't been one of the nightmares that made him scream.

Knowing he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, Harry pulled his blanket over his shoulders and shuffled quietly to the kitchen.
He had only just managed to put the kettle on, when Kreacher popped into the room.
He cast a quick Muffliato on the room as to not wake up the others, and grimaced when he now noticed himself doing it wordlessly.

"Hey Kreacher, sorry if I woke you, up but you can just go back to sleep, I don't need anything" he said gently, happy that he suddenly knew he could say such a thing to the elf without it being considered an offense.

"Kreacher knows Master would not ask it, but Kreacher wants to help Master! Kreacher doesn't actually need sleep anymore, Masters magic keeps Kreacher sated" the elf said proudly and didn't wait for a reply as he summoned the china and set about making Harry comfortable.

That was a curious detail Harry thought, as he sat down, but was too tired to inquire further.
"Would there be any chance of you calling me Harry instead of Master, Kreacher?"

The elf stopped for a moment to look up at him, considering, "Kreacher guesses he could say Master Harry, but no less, it is Kreacher’s pride to be with Master Harry, so Kreacher will proclaim it so!"
Somewhat surprised that the elf was even considering it at all - he hadn't listened to such a request in the past - Harry nodded with a small smile, considering it fair if it made the elf happy.

He stared out the window for a while, where indeed the day was dawning, but the world was still mostly asleep.
He said a quiet thank you to Kreacher as the elf floated the tea down in front of him, along with a display of biscuits, scones, and small sandwiches.
He side eyed the elf, who met his gaze head on with a stern glare, strengthening the nagging feeling Harry had, that the elf and Hermione had unconventionally banded together in feeding him whenever they could, to fatten him up somehow.

He had learned to appreciate that it was an act of care, and he had in fact put on several pounds of muscle, not to mention the general filling out overall, but as he had been underweight most of his life, that basically meant he was barely on the side of normal weight by now.
It was just, still hard for him, and he forgot more often than not if not reminded. Growing up with the Dursley's had meant going hungry a lot, and straight out being starved for long periods of times if he 'misbehaved', so Harry didn't truly feel hunger anymore.

"Thank you Kreacher," he sighed and the elf looked pleased, "Would you maybe like to join me?"

"Kreacher could never-"

"I know you haven't before Kreacher, but remember you're not my slave, you're not inferior to me, and us having this bond is supposed to be a mutually beneficial deal right? I haven't been in a situation like this before and I know nothing about it, which you do, even if you haven't been bonded before either. But I would think it meant that we get to make our own rules as well?
I would like if you joined me, and there isn't anything wrong with it if you did, but I won't order you to obey" Harry said slowly, they were going to have to figure this out one step at a time.

The elf looked terrified, unsure, and hesitant. His big, hairy, ears drooping.
"Kreacher doesn't... Kreacher isn't sure..." the small form mumbled, wringing his hands.

"Would you maybe like to take a seat first then? You don't have to drink or eat anything" Harry tried and had to hold back a grin as the elf hesitated, yet slowly sat down on the chair to Harry's right, looking around the room as if expecting retribution.

Harry summoned a firm pillow from the couch and held it out to the elf who could barely see over the tabletop. He eyed the item in Harry's hand warily, yet accepted, and Harry thought it looked much better when the elf could then rest his bony elbows on the table.

Harry hummed happily into his tea, as he blew on the hot beverage, and looked back out the window while the elf calmed down.

"Kreacher added some peppermint to Master Harry's tea, it's good for calming down and feeling tired" the elf said, and Harry could follow a lead as obvious as that.

"Really? Thank you Kreacher, that's very thoughtful of you, and I'll probably need the extra boost with the long day ahead of me" he said with a sigh and began nibbling on one of the scones.

"Master Harry and his friends has the big Ministry event today yes? Will be home long after dinner"

"Yes that's right, so no need to prepare anything for us besides breakfast today, you could even look at it as a day off if you want Kreacher" Harry tried, but the elf looked up at him with an offended expression, though only slightly so.

"Day off? Kreacher needs no such thing, Master Harry is talking nonsense, Kreacher will continue getting rid of dark traps and dangerous artifacts he will yes!" The elf said and looked almost invigorated by the words.

"Just be careful Kreacher, I know how capable you are, but if you come across something where you're not sure your magic will contain it, then make a note of it, and wait until I can help. I don't want you to get hurt"

At the following sniffle, and teary eyes that peered up at him, Harry felt slightly panicked at having brought the elf to tears, twice, in less than 24 hours, and hastily thrust a biscuit at the trembling creature.

With shaking hands the elf accepted and held the offering in both hands with an overwhelmed expression on his face.

"I know it can be scary Kreacher, but as I said, this is also your home, you are allowed to properly live here. But we'll take it slow, this is a good first step, and I hope you wouldn't mind joining me, and also the others, later on again".

The elf nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence, the elf munching happily on the biscuit and with Harry staring out the window and watching the sun begin to shower London in an orange-purple light.

"Harry? Are you- Kreacher??" A voice said from the doorway, turning shrill in surprise at the sight of Kreacher sitting and eating at the table.

Harry hid a smile as he turned to face his friend, "Morning 'mione, would you like to join me and Kreacher? I woke up early, and he has been so kind as to keep me company" he said, and the bushy haired girl nodded absentmindedly as she sat down.

Harry watched in amusement as she silently stared at the elf, who had chosen to just ignore her for now and instead just grab a sandwich, before she turned to him with wide eyes, silently demanding an answer.
Harry's smile turned fond as he knew she had to be bursting at the seams, yet she didn't say anything out of consideration to the elf, whom she had tried so hard to integrate more into their lives, and now feared scaring him away.

Harry looked to his right and found Kreacher watching Hermione, though feeling his gaze on him, he turned to Harry, and gave a miniscule nod.

With a bright grin, knowing his friend was going to both love and hate what he was about to say, he began explaining what he had only yesterday discovered.
To the surprise of no one, she almost immediately started barraging them with questions - though she did try to direct them to Harry and not the still silent elf.
Admittedly he had very little he could tell her as he knew next to nothing, so it came down to Kreacher in the end anyway.

"But I don't understand, if this is possible, if this is how it's supposed to be, how come no one has mentioned it before Kreacher?" Hermione asked and sounded genuinely upset.

"Wizard kind has in most cases forgotten, little was ever written down about us, and really, what right has house elves to demand anything of witches and wizards, when we are so thoroughly ensnared already. Many of Kreacher’s young kin know not the truth even... and Kreacher knows passing the knowledge on is forbidden by most households" the elf said, calm as if discussing the weather, and Harry felt sick, which judging by the mirror expression on Hermione’s face, was a feeling they shared.

"So, your kind is enslaved Kreacher? Like Hermione has long said" Harry asked, horrified with how unsupportive he had been of Hermione’s previous endeavor.

"Kreacher thinks yes and no, elves today have little choice, the connection with a magic household and a master is needed for Kreacher’s kind to survive. But the bond that now exists is barely enough, and elves cannot ask for more, cannot talk of what once was, so the few witches or wizards that do inquire, will never hear the truth, we cannot tell, freedom as your kind calls it, would be our doom" the elf said, and to Harry's relief, sounded at least somewhat sad.

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Harry tried to send comfort through the bond, directing his magic to surround the elf, and going by the way the floppy ears perked up, it seemed to be working.

Of course that was when Hermione burst out sobbing.

Which was how Ron found them, and was promptly rendered speechless by the sight;
Kreacher drinking from his teacup while seated at the table, Hermione loudly crying while saying how sorry she was to the elf, and Harry bewildered next to her, trying to comfort her, but not really having the words, as the truth was just that horrible.

"Blimey mate, what did I miss?" The red head exclaimed, scratching his head and looking back and forth between the three of them.

That was how they spent the remainder of the morning, consoling Hermione, explaining the situation, and then reassuring Ron as he started turning green as the truth sank in, after which Kreacher prepared a proper breakfast, which - in a bizarre turn of events - Harry had to be the one to force his friends to eat.

Truly though, there wasn't much they could do there and then. Kreacher was already free of the old tradition which would have been first on the agenda, and after many years the trio had in fact learned their lesson, and knew that rashly speaking out about such a topic would only backfire on them, even with their current standing in their community.

So they decided to add, attempting to find anything at all in the shops today about house elves and their origin, to their schedule, and then they would have to start gathering support. They had many friends at this point who also held sway, several in The Wizengamot at that, which Hermione heatedly pointed out Harry would be on as well when he became Lord.

Hermione furiously shoveled food down after that, impatient to get going, and Ron, despite his still slightly green tinged face, managed to get through several servings as well.

After that they got ready, and said their goodbyes to Kreacher, before apparating to Diagon Alley.

As just Harry probably wouldn't have been enough, all three of them had decided to glamour themselves as to remain undisturbed.
And so they spent the next many hours trudging up and down the alleys, browsing endless amounts of bookshelves and trying different wordings in their attempts to summon books on the particular subjects they were interested in, which they knew were pretty obscure.

They ended up having moderate success, sometimes guessing whether or not a book might have information, but were willing to try anyway, and Harry demanded he get to pay for the big collection they were beginning.

He was after all, quite well off, and this was all either for him or because of him, so it seemed only fair.
Hermione was also already planning out letters to send to their acquaintances around the world - Krum might have information about dark books that could help with Harry's part, and Fleur might have something about house elves; Kreacher had mentioned that it was basically all magic societies that had forgotten around the world, but Europe had always been a little more progressive.

It wasn't much, but they had to start somewhere, and if nothing else, the trio was quite known for their stubbornness, this was not something they would let pass them by.
With that thought, they ended up dropping in on George in his store, bringing food for a very late lunch as a peace offering.

As Ron had guessed, Ginny had indeed been bribed into helping instead of himself, and the small group gathered in the upstairs flat that had been built for Fred and George, but now despite being fully furnished, remained empty most of the time, save for the occasional use as a break room or tinkering with new inventions. George still stayed at The Burrow, he was doing his very best, that much was clear, but Fred's death had taken a lot of George with him.

In some morbid turn of events, Harry and George had actually grown quite close, because of the losses from the war.
Not because they dared claim they had lost most, but because what they had lost, had permanently changed them. In one of their late night talks, George had whispered about how he thought he had lost some of his soul, and how his magic had become damaged - there was a general understanding in the magical community that magical twins were special, connected, though little evidence existed to prove said theory, few doubted it.
Harry on his part had lost everyone he had ever called family during the war (except Ron and Hermione, thank Merlin) and he had actually died, and the soul piece that had lived in him had been ripped from his mind.

Their souls were not the same.
Too much damage accumulated.

So they had grown closer, on some bad days, where reality seemed far away, the presence of someone with the same kind of pain, could be comforting.

They sat down in a circle in the would-be-living room that held a clear resemblance to the living room at The Burrow; Ginny and Ron choosing the floor, Harry and Hermione on the dark red velvet couch and George in the bright yellow armchair.

"Don't tell me you've started skimping Harry, I don't see the fisherman's pie anywhere!" George said with a laugh after they spread out the food in front of them, which of course earned him a few peas thrown at his face and a smack to the back of the head from Ron.

"Pipe down George, you don't even like that dish, we got the cottage pie and even the ploughman's feast as alternatives" Harry shot back, rolling his eyes, though he still chose to overlook the quick movement of the known pranksters hands, as they imperceptibly moved in the area of Ron's plate.

His friend really should have known better than to tick off his big brother on his own domain.
Ginny sniggered into her drink and they caught each other's gazes across the table, twin smirks on their faces.
Never one to ruin the opportunity for a good prank, she quickly distracted Ron with a quidditch question when he looked her way, and Harry filled his plate and sat back, casting a silent shield charm on himself with a subtle flick of his wrist, not sure what to expect from the satisfied glint in George's eyes.

"That's more like it! The Leaky Cauldron never disappoints, though I'll admit I think the cheese is a bit funky don't you think? Funny aftertaste" the unsuspecting ginger in their midst muttered.

"Honestly Ron, manners! Don't talk with your-" Hermione began but abruptly cut herself off with a sudden squeal that turned into a coughing fit, her eyes wide and staring at Ron.

"You okay there 'mione? Perhaps something to drink would help?" George said innocently, ignoring both Ginny who had fallen back from laughing uncontrollably, while she breathlessly pointed at Ron, and Harry who was close to smothering himself from trying to keep quiet.

Hermione was still spluttering, but her surprise had given way to amusement as she shot George a dirty look.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Ron said confused, a slight frown on his face as he slowly turned to his brother who was also laughing now.

"... Bloody hell, George, what did you do?" He said with a groan, frantically patting himself up and down and inspecting his hands, before he started feeling around his face and letting out a loud scream at what he found.

Harry tumbled off the couch and joined Ginny on the floor roaring with laughter, while Hermione valiantly tried to keep a straight face as she turned to Ron again.

"Uhm it would seem... that errr, your eyebrows... have gone on an adventure Ron" She managed to get out between snorts, as the red head in question feverishly began slapping at his own face to stop the squiggling entities that were now crawling around.

"GEORGE"

"What's wrong ickle Ronniekins?" The one-eared man teased, leaning back with a bright grin.

"It's...ahahaha... it's gone under his chin!" Ginny shrieked, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at her stomach, and Ron started trying to push the wayward squirmer back up, which was not easy, as they were still attached to his skin, yet roamed around freely.

"You see oh dear brother of mine, it would appear one of our upcoming products might have made it into your food! Remember I told you about the Crawling Caterpillars? I wasn't sure if they were ready to hit the shelves, but judging from how you're looking I'd say it's perfect" George said sweetly.

"Damn right it's perfect" Ginny exclaimed, finally able to sit back up, her laughter having subsided into sniggering at her brother.

Harry cleared his throat, and with great effort managed to stop laughing as he sat back on the couch as well, reaching for his abandoned lunch instead.

"They are safe, right George? He won't... stay like that?" Hermione asked - as always the more considerate of their group - while she gestured to the grumbling Ron, who currently had one eyebrow resting on his upper lip, and the other disappearing behind his ear.

"Don't you worry Hermione, it will wear off on its own, and they'll return to their original position" George said with a wink at Hermione who breathed in a sigh of relief.

Despite that little hiccup, and a few hexes thrown around at the end of the meal - Harry thought he looked quite fetching with bright purple hair, though Hermione looked less pleased with her own moldy green color, and Ginny proved once again how she was the master of the Bat-Bogey Hex - they finished up soon enough, and spent a short hour helping to restock the shelves in the store below, before collectively apparating back to The Burrow. 

Chapter Text

Arriving at The Burrow was as always like being thrust into the middle of a storm. They appeared in front of the ever-crooked building, loud voices streaming out through the open front door, with Molly's voice the loudest of them all.

Ginny went in first, Harry behind her, and instantly a chorus of 'hullo's' and 'hey there's' greeted them.
Before they could get a word in though, the reason for the shouting became known as Fleur had stomped over to Ginny, stopping almost nose to nose, and pointed at her beautifully done hair, intricately braided and interwoven with glittering butterflies that fluttered gently under the lights.

"Ginny, please 'elp me in conveying to your mozer zat I am perfectly dressed, zis is a Ministry Gala, importante people sera la présent, all dressed in zeir best! I refuse to fall short, my beauté is no sin, and I vill vear it proudly. Vich your mozer seems to keep forgetting" the blonde beauty snapped angrily, blue eyes flaring as she stood tall, her French accent getting much thicker.

In another time, Ginny might have scoffed at such a topic, but now she too was proud of her sister-in-law, and really no matter what, the French woman would be the most outstanding beauty there.

"Mum get off it, Fleur is right and you know it, she looks spectacular, which is a good thing, considering a dolt like Ron is attending as well"

"Hey!" Came the offended, and so very familiar, exclamation from behind them.

"We're all gonna be looking our best, so turn your focus to something else mum, before you drive us all up the wall" Ginny declared with a roll of her eyes as she stalked to the stairs without another word, dragging Hermione, who barely had time to hiccup a hello, with her.

She truly had grown into being a confident spitfire that had no problem whatsoever with putting people in their place.

Fleur, now standing alone in the middle of the room smirked happily, but had the good grace not to shove it in her mother’s-in-laws face, instead turning back to her husband, who along with his father was standing in the kitchen, drinking a steaming cup of something.

They seemed to be ready already; Arthur in a dark brown tweed suit, which yes had seen some use, but it had clearly been tailored back when purchased and the little extra fineries suited the older man, and, Harry thought with a fond smile, the green bowtie with small rubber ducks on it completed the ensemble.

Bill on the other hand, still a dashing man, had his hair styled back, boldly showing off the scars that marred his face. Like Fleur had once said, they were shocking, but having faded a bit, they made him look weathered but tough, and he wore it well. He had donned a simple, 3-piece, dark blue suit that complimented his wife's lighter blue dress, and a small butterfly brooch on his chest made it obvious that they were a pair.

"Oh Harry dear, great to see you" Molly cooed as she decided to shift her focus from Fleur, to him, and squeezed his cheeks as soon as she came over, looking embarrassingly proud at how much there now was to squeeze, before she engulfed him in her ever soothing embrace.

For just as second, Harry closed his eyes, sinking into the embrace and allowed himself to not think about anything, but simply feel.

Warm. Safe. Loved. At peace.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in, feeling as if the shattered pieces of him had been ever so slightly squeezed back together, and opened his eyes.

Harry couldn't see it, but he heard George's snort behind him as the man walked fully into the room.

"Oh yes mother, so nice to see that Harry is still your favorite son, I'm George by the way, just in case you were having trouble remembering the names of your less favored children" he said sarcastically, laughing as he skipped into the kitchen just as his mother's glare turned toward him.

Finding himself released after that, Harry greeted Percy who was seated in the living room, his back looking uncomfortably straight, as he too drank from a cup, though in a much more prim and proper way than his father and brother, what with his pinky jutting out and holding the saucer under his cup at all times.

Percy was still the least frivolous Weasley of them all, but not as much as before the war, and the smile he gave Harry in return to his greeting was warm and genuine.

"Looking dapper Percy" Harry said, and the ginger proudly puffed out his chest.

"Why thank you Harry, of course I ordered a new suit as soon as we got word of the Gala, so I would hope as much, but speaking of, you better get a move on, your things are waiting in Ron's room as always, and we have to leave before long!"

Harry grinned and nodded, waving to the small group that had gathered in the kitchen by then, before heading up the stairs, gesturing for Ron to follow him, which his best friend did with a long suffering sigh, as he put down the plate of biscuits he had somehow got a hold of in the few minutes they had been there.

"I'm coming mate, don't fret, we still have plenty of time despite what Percy might blabber on about"

Harry chuckled "I'm aware, but knowing us, we're still going to be late regardless, so might as well get going"

Ron snorted at that, but didn't reply as he knew the other boy was right.

They passed Ginny's room, where they could hear delighted laughter, loud squeals, and an odd array of heavy thuds, and they quickly walked past, not at all curious about what could have the two girls making all that noise, and at the same time not wanting to risk being coerced into giving opinions on fashion stuff they knew nothing about anyway.

The trek to the fifth floor was as winding and tedious as always, and apparition would have been much easier, yet Harry liked it. In all the years he had known the Weasleys, he had nothing but fond memories of running up and down the stairs, where the constant chaos of a home filled with just as chaotic people, always collided - in laughter, bickering and hushed secrets.
To Harry it screamed life, and he held it so very dear

Reaching their destination, it took Harry's eyes a second to get used to the colorful attack on his retinas from the ever orange layout of his friends room, that it was only when the figure moved, that he noticed the almost camouflaged ginger that turned to them.

"There you are boys! Mum's been raving on about you since you skipped out on lunch, muttering how you were probably gonna skip out on the whole Gala if you thought you could away with it" Charlie Weasley said as he grinned at them, only halfway dressed Harry noted, as he had evidently recently gotten out of the shower - his long hair still wet and clinging to his skin.
And so much skin as well, the other man was dressed only in his suit pants, and his broad, freckled chest, still had water droplets on it that ever so slightly caught in the light overhead.

"We wouldn't. Not this one. It's to honor everyone we lost, we would never skip out on that" Came Ron's solemn response, and Harry snapped out of his thoughts, focusing back on the matter at hand.

"I told mum as much, but you know her, that woman does love to worry" the older man said rolling his eyes, stepping closer and curling and arm around his younger brothers shoulders and ruffling his hair despite the outraged protests it elicited.

"Bugger off you git" Ron said as he threw off his brother's arm with an annoyed huff which only made the man smile even wider.

"And Harry! Good to see you again, you haven't had any daring escapades with more dragons since last we saw each other, right?" The older Weasley said with a wink as he pulled the younger boy into a one armed hug, thankfully sparing his hair the same fate - probably because it needed no ruffling as it was as unruly as ever.

"You saw me last week Charlie, not exactly a lot of time for new adventures" Harry said with a snort, and wondered why his cheeks felt so hot.

"More than enough time for you, I'll have to point out"

And really what could Harry say to that, it was basically the story of his life.

Ron claimed the shower first, so Harry started laying out their clothes on the bed, rolling his eyes as he took special care with Ron's robes just as he had been instructed; his best friend was very proud to have been able to buy his first set of formal robes after beginning to earn his own money, and honestly good riddance to the frilly lace horror he had worn back at the yule ball.

He finished quickly and chatted with Charlie as the other man finished getting ready, and who was now hesitatingly mentioning how he was thinking of returning to Romania, though he was not quite ready yet.
"I just... it's hard to leave. With Fred... being here is the only thing that seems to make it hurt a little less, so I know I wouldn't be able to stay away for as long of a time as I did before, my boss is happy to schedule me for shorter stretches with longer breaks too, so I guess I'm considering it" the man said, looking guilty just by the mere whispering of the words.

"It's not a sin to want to go on Charlie, you're obviously aware of the changes you - well all of us - have undergone, so trying to find your place again, is more than okay. It probably won't be easy, but it's not wrong. We're all trying to find that" Harry responded, genuinely happy the other man was nearing a point where he was ready to try going back into the world.

He looked grateful at Harry's words, sending him a pained smile, before pulling the younger boy into a bone breaking hug, which Harry didn't even get to think to return before Ron waltzed back into the room.

"Errr would you two like the room to yourself or something? Wouldn't want to interrupt" he sniggered and as Charlie released the younger boy with a hearty laugh and a wink, Harry wondered again why it suddenly felt so hot inside, but quickly brushed it aside and headed for the shower.

Not too long after that they were descending the stairs, immersed in Charlie telling another unfairly cool dragon story, and quickly realized they were the last to arrive downstairs - not really surprising - apart from Molly fretting though, no one seemed to be in a hurry.

"Blimey 'mione, you look great!" Ron said as he caught sight of their friend. And she truly did look great, wearing a floor length purple gown, that glittered like the starry night sky, and her hair halfway updone with a few curls hanging loose and framing the face of the beautiful woman before them.

She was wearing matching gloves, slightly more sheer than the dress, and Harry's face fell, she had mentioned it several times, how she didn't want to display the 'mudblood' scar at this event. She was not ashamed of the scars she had acquired during the war, but she didn't want it to catch any attention during something that was supposed to be about the ones they lost.

"And I guess you're okay too Ginny" Ron continued, and Harry snapped out of the darker trail his mind had gone, as both he, Charlie and George snorted simultaneously while rolling their eyes.

It was quite the understatement in Harry's opinion, Ginny looked like spring incarnate! With her long green dress, with similar green leaves and butterflies as the added details, a slit to the side of the skirt revealing the laced up green heels she was also wearing, and then her long hair that had been curled and styled with small beads. Ron was as always hopelessly blind when it came to his little sister, but she was looking amazing.

Hermione just sighed at the statements, glancing at Ginny who flicked her carefully curled hair, and stared her brother down, ready to counter.

"You both look stunning" Harry earnestly added hastily, and at what seemed to be at the last moment, Ginny turned her gaze from Ron who had backed away a few steps, to Harry and smirked confidently.

"At least one of you still has some sense, too bad both of you already missed your shots with us though" she said and cackled happily as both Ron and Hermione turned red, and Harry sheepishly scratched his head, his tanned skin luckily hiding any blush that might or might not occur.

Him and Ginny had mutually accepted that the thing between them had naturally fizzled out, and now they felt more like brother and sister to each other - a bit weird maybe, and definitely joking material for the many Weasley boys - and then, well surprisingly Ron had been the first to speak up and say he thought him and Hermione worked better as friends, that he still loved her, but not like that, and Hermione had wholeheartedly agreed, and that was that.

Before the many Weasley boys could get to mocking them - which they seemed only too eager to do - Fleur clapped her hands.

"Now now, don't get started boyz, ve are already late, so let's get going" She interrupted smoothly in a tone that offered no discussion, and to Harry's relief Molly quickly started herding people towards the fireplace, which had been specially set up for all participants of the Gala.

They rather uneventfully flooed to the entrance of the Ministry, with everyone arriving at the right place, George sniggered at Harry's obvious relief at this, and Harry made a mental note to get back at the prankster, he had been having fun at his expense a bit too much lately.

Hermione quickly cast scourgify on whoever had gotten soot all over them - unsurprisingly perhaps, Harry, Ron, George, and Ginny were those affected.

The entrance to the Ministry was as grand as ever, though with decidedly less people streaming in and out of the fireplaces at this time of day.
Passing the golden statues on their way, everyone chatting back and forth, and calling out to acquaintances along the way, Harry felt his stomach drop as he looked at what was being depicted.

It had originally been destroyed during the fight between Voldemort and Dumbledore, and then been replaced by quite the horrible monument, much inferior to the original piece, or so he had thought, but now looking at the replica of the original, he realized this really wasn't any better.

The 'Magic is Might' had been blunt in its showcasing of muggles as helpless, lesser beings, slaves at best.

But having lost his naivety many years ago, then while the original hid it better, and omitted muggles all together, it was obvious the wizard was being portrayed as the pinnacle of everything, with the witch just a little below that in status, and the other magical beings far below both of them, with the house elf at the very bottom, admiration and adoration clear in all of their eyes.

Just when had it all become so twisted?

Harry startled when a hand gently grabbed his, but it was only Hermione giving him a knowing look, with Ron a little in front of them staring at the statues with an unhappy expression.

His unease lessened as he saw how his friends recognized it too. He would not be alone in this, and they would not simply accept what was.

And sure they were a tiny bit late, but other than the start of the ball being at 7pm, there was no strict schedule to follow; the food served would be a large banquet, placed off to the side and available the entire event.

The hall they entered was much larger than Harry had expected, but after all this time in the wizarding world he had grown accustomed to how, when it involved politicians or members of the Noble Houses, grander equaled better.

The finely decorated tables were set up in circular arrangements all around the room, there was a stage with a live band, accompanied by a large dance floor.
Not to mention the conjured candlelight sky, a candle for everyone lost during both the first and second war against Voldemort.

And pictures.
So many pictures.
Most in the wizarding style of moving photographs, but some the muggle way of stills. They covered the walls, the pillars, and there was a monument close to the entrance, revealed for the first time on this night, and to be placed at the entrance of the Ministry.
A giant, black, marble wall, with the names of their deceased carved in silver letters.

And it could have been morbid, it could have been utterly depressing.
Instead it was bringing small smiles to people's faces, warm laughter with tearful eyes as stories were swapped. People mingled with those they knew, and greeted those they had yet to know.

Harry was the last of their group to enter the ballroom, and before he could head towards his former year mates whom had mostly gathered close to the live band, he caught sight of familiar waist length blonde hair off to the side.

Contrary to most people in attendance, the individual he started walking towards, had their long hair unstyled and flowing freely.

"Hello Harry, how you've been?" A serene voice greeted him before he could make himself known and he chuckled in response.

"Luna," he began as the figure turned her dreamy gaze his way, "Good to see you, I've been... okay, all things considered, how about you?" He answered, choosing not to lie and pretend everything was fine, she always saw through that anyway.

She smiled at that "Okay is great news Harry, some months ago you couldn't have said that and actually meant it!
I suppose I personally could have been doing better, dad hasn't been doing very well since the war, and I've had to take over responsibility as sole editor for the Quibbler as a result, but it's okay, I can tell we'll all be fine in the end" She said easily as if commenting on the weather, and Harry would have felt bad, if not for the knowing tone in her voice. He had accepted by now that Luna was slightly odd yes, but she was no liar, and when she spoke with that certainty, well, she was usually right.

Now that he'd come closer he took a better look at her ensemble and smiled fondly, thinking back of other occasions where she had turned heads by her outfits.
She was dressed in a yellow, floor length gown, flowy and simple in itself, but she had made it her own by covering it in sunflowers, some as part of the fabric, but most he suspected were actual flowers added on, and she had not done her hair up yes, but her head was adorned with a charming sunflower wreath.
Well actually all of her accessories were in the sunflower motif he noticed, from the drawn on flowers at the corner of her eyes, to the yellow shoes peeking out from under her dress.

"You look lovely Luna"

"That's kind of you to say Harry, thank you, and even if the current robes you're wearing are unfamiliar to you for now, you'll get used to it before long. Choosing a more favorably looked upon wardrobe, won't diminish the striking figure you are.
You are a light Harry, a blazing star, nothing can take that away" She said in her gentle sing-song voice, and oddly he believed her, despite how he was currently feeling like a kid playing pretend in his clothes.

"I wanted to bring some light into this night, and the flower of the sun seemed most fitting, wouldn't you say? Our loved ones might be gone from this plane, but the sun is still here, and light still exists"

Harry had to blink fervently as she said that, trying to push down the emotions that were welling up.

"It's... it's perfect Luna" he managed to croak out and she smiled kindly in response, just as she always had, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it gently.

"Let's go join the others, Hermione and Ron have been staring at us quite bluntly for a while now, I think it's hard for them to not have you close tonight" She added and he looked over his shoulder to see his two best friends failing horribly at trying to be discreet.

"Well they're not alone in that, it's hard for me too, though I sure hope I can hide it better than that"

She chuckled at that and looked at him with eyes that were uncharacteristically non-dreamy "yes of course you struggle as well Harry, but you are more well-versed in surviving hardships than most. You could, which is why I know you will do great, even if you will be alone in many ways. That's the kind of star you are, the one that shines the brightest to lead the way, first to show and last to fade.
I'm very proud to be your friend, never forget that" and with those words her gaze went back to dreamy as they reached their friends, leaving Harry speechless and strangely unnerved by how comforting her words had felt.

Before he could say anything back though, Dean Thomas had slung an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close for a one armed hug "Well lookie here, our Savior finally saw fit to join us!" The dark-skinned boy said with a grin, making their by now quite large group laugh in response.

He stared at Luna for another moment, but she had already started talking to Neville, pointing to his tie which had some - probably obscure - plant on it, so he tried his best to shake the sudden solemn feeling that had come over him, wrestling free of Dean's grip with a huff, ignoring the tinge of discomfort at being called savior, and shoved the other boy with a grin, making their circle laugh again.

"Priorities you know mate, of which Luna will always rank higher than you I'm afraid" Harry answered and winked at the boy in question, which made him grab his chest in mock hurt "That's what I get after sharing a dorm with this trouble magnet for six years!" He exclaimed dramatically as Seamus pulled him back to his side with a smirk.

After that it was, well not exactly easy, but a good night nonetheless, and conversations took off, marked especially by anecdotes and reminiscing. There was of course a lot of Ministry Officials which tried to use the grand gathering for themselves, but for once, they were not entertained and simply ignored if they continued.

Harry even managed to get himself on the dancefloor several times, first with Ron, which had his older brothers roaring with laughter before George quickly pulled Lee Jordan along to join them. After that was Ginny, Hermione, George and then Charlie to both latter gingers great amusement, and lastly Luna.
The music was too loud for talking, but it seemed as if she was all out of baffling statements anyway, so they danced and laughed, and as their song ended she squeezed both of his hands, mouthed something that could have been 'good luck' before she slipped away and dragged Ginny into a dance.

After that Harry drifted back towards the entrance, following something that had seemed to be calling out to him all evening.
He looked back just once before slipping out, and smiled, heart heavy, as everyone he held dear enjoyed themselves.

Hermione being swung around wildly by George.
Ron struggling to keep up with Lunas unusual dance moves.
Neville confidently leading Ginny to her amusement.
Molly and Arthur swaying happily in each other's arms.
Bill and Fleur dazzling all as they spun around.
Charlie bothering Percy as he tried to blabber on to some politician near the banquet tables.
The rest of his friends all busy having fun as well.
It was about as close to perfect as anything could be.

And with that he turned away and started walking rather aimlessly down the halls.
Being The Chosen One did have some perks, like how he didn't for a second fear getting in trouble, none would bar him entrance to wherever he wanted to go.

On and on, until he opened a set of doors and realized what had been drawing him closer.

He slowly stepped into the almost empty room, stone walls dark and grimy, his footsteps echoing ominously.
His gaze was fixed on a stone dais, upon which stood a kind-of-doorway which the sight alone of caused his soul to tremble in fear and anguish.

Yet on he walked until he reached the center, directly facing the very thing he hated.

"Hey padfoot... it's been a while" Harry said, looking into the unsettling fog, that at first glance seemed utterly unassuming.
But he knew better.

He stared for a while, watching silver and grey swirl around in front of him, before he slowly sat down, the sudden feeling of déjà vu washing over him.
Of when he was an 11 year old boy, sitting alone in front of a mirror that showed him what he wanted most.
Family.
And now here he was, a 19 year old boy, in a similar setting, sitting in front of something that did not show him a picture of something per se, but which seemed to whisper, talking of things that had been lost and that he missed most.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back. I didn't... I couldn't face it Snuffles, the loss of you. Coming back here would mean accepting that you were gone, and I knew that, I knew it, but I couldn't face it.
4 years is long enough though, and I've grown I guess, I came of age. We fought in the war, and we won in the end.
But, we lost too many people in the process, and so many just because of me, yet everywhere I go, they call me savior," Harry said, almost spitting out the last word with a vengeance.

"I thought it couldn't get worse than losing you, and no death hurt more, but every single one of them, hurt enough. Too much really.
I faced death for crying out loud, I gave every last thing I had.
But if I'm still here, then I have to go on when so many can't. So I will.
I am.
And I think it's going to be a good world too, I'm not alone, Hermione and Ron always by my side, and the rest of the Weasleys of course, as well as my other friends. We're all made up of so many broken pieces by now, but we're rebuilding ourselves.
It's not easy, and I know it never will be.
But I can laugh again now, make fun of Ron to his great exasperation, watch silly soap operas with Hermione - Ron doesn't get the charm of it - I can dance around with the both of them in our living room, totally unhinged but enjoying ourselves. Mrs. Weasley still makes the best food, and we're at The Burrow a lot so I would know"

"I'm an auror trainee, and while I wouldn't say I love it, I can breathe a little easier knowing I'm helping in keeping our world a little safer, and that's a peace of mind I can't live without.
It's not great I'll admit, there's a lot of nightmares, and bad days where getting up is impossible, trauma will do that to you I guess, but we're all hanging in there.
I just..." his voice cracked as he tried to hold back the tears, knowing it was a futile effort.

"I just miss you so much. Everyday. So much it hurts! And it hurts even more that we're building a future, a good one, when all the best people won't be there to see it".
The tears were spilling freely down his cheeks now, and he took off his fogged up glasses with a humorless laugh - not as if he could see anything anyway.

"Look at me, crying like a little child, not that I ever got to be much of one".

He looked down into his lap, still unsure why he had come here in the end, and why he was saying all these things. There was an empty grave, next to his parents and Remus, where he could have gone instead.
But it hadn't felt right, something inside him had known it had to be here.
He took a deep breath and looked back into The Veil, almost able to tell himself that he could make out his Godfather's form among the shadows.

"So to sum up, I miss you Sirius. I know we didn't get to know each other for long, but I loved you! And I'm so sorry we didn't get to be a family, I wished for it more than anything."

He stood back up, and took a step closer, resting his hand against the frame of the would-be-doorway.
Surprised at how warm it felt against his fingers, where he had expected cold.

"Was that truly what you wished for most Harry?"

He startled so violently he nearly fell right on through The Veil, but righted himself just in time.

"Sirius?"

He didn’t get a reply, but he jammed his glasses back onto his face and squinted into the mist, which, well it somehow seemed to be swirling around faster now.

"Sirius was that you??" He repeated, nearly shouting, and though he still didn't get a reply, he gasped as a definite form had taken shape within the mist.

"Was it truly?" Came the almost indistinguishable whisper.

"Of course! You were the only family I ever got to have Sirius! No, Sirius come back!"

The form was receding, though Harry could still feel its gaze on him.

"Please don't leave me again, Sirius" he pleaded, almost sobbing.

"What, if I told you, it was a wish you could still see granted? That there was a way, for me, for everyone, whom you said got taken in the war?"

Harry felt his heart skip a beat, breath halting, as the words creeped over his skin.
For just a second, the image of a young blonde boy smiling brightly, immortalized in a portrait, flashed behind his eyelids.
Before innocence was lost.
Just like his had been with Sirius.

"I'd take it, whatever it was, I'd do it! No one deserved to die for me, least of all you! If it was possible of course I would do it!"

He couldn't see it it, but he knew the form was smiling at him.

From behind him, he faintly registered a door banging open, and people shouting his name.
He was just about to look back, where he would then have seen Ron and Hermione running for him, somehow aware of what was about to happen before himself, but he didn't get to.

"Harry! Harry help me!" The form screamed as it was abruptly torn away, and all his attention zeroed back in on the not-quite-doorway.

"NO! SIRIUS!!" He yelled, reaching out and stepping forward before he could realize his mistake.

And then there was nothing.

...

Chapter Text

And then there was nothing.

....

He lay face down, listening to the silence.

I've been here before the being that was him thought, and he remembered, he knew, he was Harry!

So he opened his eyes as he knew he could, and found himself back in that bright mist.

I am not alone.

He didn't know how, but he knew that yes somehow, he was not by himself in this misty world.

The moment he had remembered, he had felt his body become clothed, so as he stood, he did not feel embarrassed though he knew someone else was there.

He looked around, but yes apart from the glittering ceiling, his surroundings seemed yet again to not have found a purpose to turn into, so bright mist it was.

Stupid! His mind helpfully whispered, and he clenched his fists so hard it should have hurt, but alas, it seemed pain could not follow here.

"That, I think, depends on many things"

Harry whipped around so fast he nearly tripped, hand instinctively reaching for a wand that wasn't there, but the moment he laid eyes on the being that had spoken, he froze up completely anyway, rendering any would-be-wand useless.

The form in front of him, was exceedingly hard to describe, as if his eyes struggled to focus, but it bore perhaps an unnerving resemblance to a dementor. Yet... It wore a cloak, because it had to be a cloak, which shimmered in a way no material he had ever laid eyes on before, it was pitch black, so much so that it seemed to swallow light.

It was breathtaking, in a way that had nothing to do with the effect of a usual dementor, but simply because it was beautiful.

He could not make out its face, apart from what seemed to be two shadowed eyes, still black as night, but seemingly fueled from within, just like coal that bore no flame but glowed nonetheless.

"You!" He exclaimed loudly.

"Yes, me. Do you remember now Young Lord - or should I say - Master?"

And he felt his memory stirring, of back when he had last been in this place. He had forgotten, as he had been told he would, because he had to. But he had indeed not only met Dumbledore. After, when his old headmaster had faded from view, there had been another.

"You... you were here the last time, and we met, and you explained something to me..."

"Ah, it would seem not all has returned to you, but still, that you remember even some is a feat in and of itself. Yes we met last time as well. I explained to you, that there was a bit more to 'The Deathly Hallows' as you wizards so dubbed it, and that you had been the first to master them. Truly master them. You, My Young Lord, is The Master of Death."

Harry blinked, slowly, and then blinked again, it seemed he could move again, and he almost felt like freaking out and pestering the other form with questions. Yet, he kind of remembered doing that before, and so it didn't seem necessary.

"I'm not... I don't... explain more, please, I don't understand" he said in the end, voice weak, but he couldn't muster up more strength to pretend otherwise. The Boy Who Lived, The Savior, The Chose One - just him, Harry James Potter, was tired.

Exhausted.

And the ramifications of what he had just heard seemed immeasurable.

The being moved ever so slightly, holding out a blackened, clawed, hand, and pointed to a simple bench that had formed just next to them. Without a word, too tired to care, Harry walked over and sat down next to the mind-numbing existence.

"You... are Death, right?" He managed to squeeze out, chest tight and knuckles white from their grip on the edge of his seat. He couldn't see it, but he knew the other form was smiling at him again.

"Yes, I am what you call Death, Hel, Thanatos, Azrael, Marzanna, Santa Muerte, King Yamas and so on, you have all given me many names, and I bear them gladly. I am, and I always will be, when there is not even a speck of dust left of this world to take, still I will be. That is my purpose, my entire being."

Its voice was not quite human, as if the eons of time that lay behind it, overflowed into its words. It reminded Harry of a chilly night under a starry sky.

"How could I possibly be the Master of a being such as you? You just said it yourself; everything will fall into your hands in the end!"

It observed him for a moment, and Harry kept being unnerved by how kind it seemed. He couldn't bring himself to be afraid no matter how much he tried.

"I think perhaps your idea of a master is not quite what I mean. You do not control me or rule over me My Young Lord. However, thrice now, you have fallen fully into my embrace, yet quite effortlessly returned to your world regardless. I call you Master of Death because you have the ability to evade me; in front of me you know you have nothing to fear, so you simply do not - though Death isn't a cruel thing, but a natural outcome I might add, something you, and few others have truly understood and accepted - but well, Your Hallows granted you such standing, and even if you do not currently possess all three, they will always be at your calling. That is your reward."

"So I'm immortal?" His voice sounded shrill, frightened, and he was, oh he was, not of the being, but of its words.

"Oh my dear master," it said and touched its hand to his cheek, just a faint brush against his skin, and somehow Harry felt comforted. "Do you not see how rare it is of something to fear being immortal, but not of death or dying?" It asked, not unkindly. 

"That's not quite an answer" he countered, aware they both knew it.

"Indeed," it said and retracted its hand from him, "and there lies the truth. You could in theory be immortal, your title would grant you that, yet because you have accepted death as natural, because you know it is a must and not something to escape, you embrace it, that is the only reason why you received your title at all, and so how could you ever accept such immortality? You would not, the very act would mean forfeiting your title after all"

At that Harry released his grip on the marble seat. "That's quite the conundrum," he said, unsure if he even fully understood, "a kind of paradox, is it not?" He was more curious now, the being had said it like he would have a choice, and so his unease had disappeared once more.

"Indeed, it is. So, do you understand now? You are The Master of Death, therefore my master, yet you embrace the fact that in the end, you must come to me, and when the time comes, you will do so gladly."

Harry leaned back and observed the ceiling above them, pondering.

"But I already did, once, the last time. I came to you willingly, yet I went back, and this time too I guess. I went through The Veil, and even if I didnt mean to die, I accept that crossing that boundary means that I will anyway, it is why I thought I was so stupid when I first woke up here," he returned his gaze to the quiet existence next to him, glowing eyes and shadowy edges waiting patiently for his thoughts to follow its trail. "Yet you just said 'when the time comes'. If I have already accepted it, the time should be now, but you make it not sound so?"

For a moment the being seemed to go very still, and for some reason, Harry could tell it was dissatisfied, almost angry even, but not at him.

"I hold you very dear Master, I love all things with life, but you more than most. I said, 'when the times comes', because this time too I will give you a choice. I am quite cross with The Fates you see, and luckily Lady Magic is on my side as well. Those deaths were not truly your time, yet because of Them, they happened to you. So this time I will intervene. I am a little limited though, so whether or not you want it, will be up to you Master."

Again, the kindness Harry felt from the entity was so gentle, and he couldn't help but be comforted.

"The fates truly did intervene then? I wasn't just cursed or born to lose everything?" He asked in a small voice, his soul trembling.

This time the being extended a long, cloaked arm and put it around his shoulders, covering him in its surprisingly warm material, and he thought off-handedly that it resembled the feel of his own invisibility cloak to an eerie degree.

"They did yes, but so will I,"

Harry looked back up into the still shadowed face of Death, and waited for it to explain.

"I know I tricked you into entering The Veil, but I heard your wish and it was the only way to offer you this choice. You deserve happiness Master, and The Fates took most of it from you in Their pushing you on the path They wanted. You cannot go back through The Veil, it is indeed not a doorway, but holds only one way, which means, I can only send you back, in time. Yet I am not Time, so sending you back to any point, whenever, is not possible, it will have to be a time where you circled the edge of my domain. You do however have a saddening amount of those times. I would suggest going back to the time of thirteen, but the choice is yours Master"

Thirteen... Harry thought back, that was the year he met...! He looked up abruptly, not truly having understood what he was being told until just then.

"Sirius!" He whispered, voice breaking. "You mean I could go back to, to the dementor attack, don't you? It almost killed both me and him! And if so, then he would still be alive, everyone would still be alive, I could make sure no one would have to die for me!"

"Master, please do not think of it that way. It was not your doing, The Fates pushed a heavy destiny on you and it cost a lot, but the ones you say died for you, did not go to me unhappily for their sacrifice. Just like you did, they acted out of love, and they were proud to protect said love."

Harry looked down, it was not the first time he had heard words similar to that, but perhaps it was the first time there was truth or certainty behind it. Yet it was still hard, and he found it hard to forgive himself.

"It takes time Master, you will get there in the end."

He smiled bitterly at that but found it hard not to believe the words of the kind being that for some reason held him in high regard. It got up silently, a clawed hand gently touching the back of his neck as it did so and stood to face him.

"Now, you have already been here a while and since it's not yet time for you to stay, we will have to get ready. There are some things you are wondering about, and I will do my best to explain.

The now that you had been living in will cease to exist, it will go back to being a time yet to be molded, and all the things that you remember, will be solely yours. Yet, your two friends, have become a part of your soul, and you theirs, plus you made a promise to Lady Magic herself and it will follow all three of you even if they won't remember why, the promise is still one they will feel,"

"They will not remember all the things you went through together, but they will retain the bond that you formed, they will feel it and never doubt it, you will always be connected, do not worry, they will be with you as always."

"Another thing is you, your soul and magic will go back in time, but the essence of you now is not the same as it was back then. The shard that dwelled in your scar is gone and will remain so, and with it the connection between you and Tom Riddle. Furthermore, the scars from dark or blood magic that you bear, will follow too, time cannot erase them from your soul when it remains the same."

"Other than that, the rest will be up to you, and it might not be perfect but this time you get to at least know the truth of it all, I wish you the best master, you have my favor, never forget."

Harry could feel their time running out and stood up to face the being - Death - and he smiled at it, and it smiled back.

"Thank you... I don't know why you think so highly of me, that you would do this, but as I said before, I'll take it, I'll do everything I can, and however long it might be, at the end I'll see you again."

"That you will Master, now come here so I may take you back, you agreed on the time of thirteen did you not?" It asked, and Harry nodded as he stepped closer, this time being engulfed in its embrace, its cloak slithering over him in that all too familiar way, and he felt safe, overwhelmed, sad, scared, but so very ready.

The bright room faded from view and all that was left was that infinite blackness, and Harry started to feel himself lose consciousness.

"If you look closely, you will find that I have left a few surprises for you on the other side, I hope they will be of help, but most of all I hope they will make you feel a little less alone. Good luck Young Lord" it whispered just as everything faded to nothing once more.

Chapter Text

White fog was blinding him. He had to fight ... Expecto Patronum ... His mother was screaming in his ears ... Face down, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harry opened his eyes... The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away ... He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.

...

There were voices.
Talking, almost shouting, and Harry slowly realized he lay in a bed, and that his body throbbed in a way he believed had little to do with the very dementors his spectators were discussing.

Is it really true? He thought and suppressed a shudder, some parts of him hadn't dared believe, even if he had wanted to.

He remembered, all the way to his bones, what had happened on this night, every detail as clear as if it had been only moments since they occurred.
Which he guessed, they had actually... yeah that was going to take some getting used to.

And his soul recalled it all.

-- He opened his eyes.
Everything was slightly blurred. Someone had removed his glasses.
Harry squinted. Ron's red hair was visible beneath Madam Pomfrey's arm at the far side of the ward.

He moved his head over on the pillow. In the bed to his right lay Hermione - a smaller version of her than he had grown used to, but his Hermione all the same - and he felt his heart settle ever so slightly now that he knew where his friends were.

Moonlight was falling across her bed. Her eyes were open, too.

She looked petrified, and when she saw that Harry was awake, pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed to the hospital-wing door. It was ajar, and the voices of Cornelius Fudge and Snape were coming through it from the corridor outside.

Madam Pomfrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Harry’s bed.  He turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest block of chocolate he had ever seen in his life. It looked like a small boulder.

"Ah, you’re awake!" she said briskly.

She placed the chocolate on Harry’s bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"How’s Ron?" said Harry and Hermione together.

"He’ll live," said Madam Pomfrey grimly.

"As for you two … you’ll be staying here until I’m satisfied you’re – Potter, what do you think you’re doing?"

Harry was sitting up, putting his glasses back on and picking up his wand.

"I need to see the Headmaster," he said.

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it’s all right. They’ve got Black. He’s locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the Kiss any moment now –"

"WHAT?"

Harry jumped up out of bed, heart racing, trying to pin down exactly how this event had played out before; Hermione had also jumped up, and they stared the confused Madam Pomfrey down, about to pelter her with questions and objections.
But his shout had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the ward.

"Harry Harry, what’s this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed – has he had any chocolate?" he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.

"Minister, how do you do?" Harry blurted out, unsure how to go forward, but as he had been in this situation before, he knew what wouldn't work at the very least.

Hermione was staring at him like he had grown a second head, but clever as always, she said nothing and waited to follow his lead.

"Uh, not so bad now that Black is back in custody and this whole debacle can be put behind us, for you too my boy, now you can-"

"Oh and please do forgive us Professor Snape, we weren't in our right minds when we attacked you" Hermione quickly interrupted, having hurried to Harry’s side when he flinched at the Ministers words.

Snape simply glared suspiciously at the two of them, but Fudge had a small smile on his face.

"See Snape, confunded they may have been, but already willing to apologize, excellent, just excellent!"

Harry and Hermione plastered on similar thin smiles and kept quiet while Snape positively glowered.

"Minister, Professor," said Madam Pomfrey just as Fudge began talking about the aftermath of getting Sirius Kissed by a dementor, which had Harry's right eye twitching and his hands clenching "I must insist that you leave, it is late and these children are my patients and need care, and they should not be put under further strain this night."

Turning sharply back to them, Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into first Harry's and then Hermione's mouth making them both choke, and she seized the opportunity to usher them back in bed while sending telling glares towards both Snape and Fudge who in her mind was trespassing on her domain.

Before anything more could happen, and luckily before Harry broke and started shouting, the door opened again. It was Dumbledore. Harry swallowed his mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty, and got up again.

"Hello Professor Dumbledore, impecable timing as always" Harry said, with a possible hint of sarcasm.

Hermione still made choking sounds behind Harry, but she too got up again, while she struggled with her current obstruction.

"For heaven’s sake!" said Madam Pomfrey tiredly "Headmaster, it is most late and I must insist –"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr Potter and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black –"

"I suppose he’s told you the same fairy tale he’s planted in Potter’s mind?" spat Snape.

"Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive –"

"That, indeed, is Black’s story" said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape.

"Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him in the grounds."

Harry grabbed Hermiones hand and subtly shook his head when he saw she was about to object. They would be better off holding their tongues, Harry had a feeling no one but Dumblredore could make the man listen at this point.

"I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone,’ said Dumbledore again. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy – please leave us."

"Headmaster!’ spluttered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest –"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I’ll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I’ll see you upstairs."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn’t moved.

"You surely don’t believe a word of Black’s story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore’s face.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated.
Snape took a step towards Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven’t forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven’t forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.

Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them and Dumbledore turned to Harry and Hermione.

Hermione was almost vibrating, from holding back, and Harry knew she was about to burst into speech.

"'Mione, I know, believe me I know, but if what I'm thinking is right, then we have very little time, so please hold back a little longer, we must listen to the Headmaster now"

His friend cocked her head, eyes full of worry and confusion, yet Harry could feel it, the way they had trusted and cared for each other Before, it was still here now, so despite her ever-growing confusion, she nodded, squeezed his hand and looked to their Headmaster with a determined gaze.

The Headmaster in turn, was looking at Harry with surprise, his eyes twinkling behind their half-moon spectacles, yet he merely nodded at their short interaction and began to explain, "There is not a shred of proof to support Black’s story, except your word – and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eye-witnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you –" Harry said, still unable to stop himself.

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little – and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends won't help.
Listen to me, Harry. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape’s version of events is far more convincing than the alternative"

"He hates Sirius," Hermione said desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him –"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady – entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife – without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius’sentence.".

"But you believe us."

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly.

"But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister for Magic …"

Harry stared up into the grave face of the man before him and felt conflicted. He remembered how panicked, exhausted and bewildered he had been the first time around, how the Headmasters words had made sense, and yes mostly they still did but... there were other ways, possibilities, though granted at the moment, they did have to hurry and no other options would work in time. But the way he was saying it, didn't sit quite right with Harry.

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light-blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is more time."

"But –" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!"

"Now, pay attention," said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you. You must not be seen. Miss Granger, you know the law – you know what is at stake … you – must – not – be – seen."

Harry pretended he didn't have a clue what was going on, which was quite easy, he still didn't really understand the functions of a Time-Turner - but having met Death, and had his soul and magic sent back in time, he didn't doubt any of the possibilities - so he simply believed, and knew he had to basically just stick to how the rest of the events had played out, from now and till after Sirius escaped.

Dumbledore had turned on his heel and looked back as he reached the door.
"I am going to lock you in. It is –" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Harry stared for a moment as the door closed behind Dumbledore. Feeling oddly melancholic at having seen the Headmaster alive and well, but realized that who he himself was, and how he felt, couldn't compare to before.

He sighed, if melancholy was the worst of it, then he had nothing to complain about, and turned back to his friend.
Hermione was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Harry come here," she said urgently. "Quick!"

Harry moved towards her. She was holding the chain out. He saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here –"

She had thrown the chain around his neck, too.

"Ready?" she said breathlessly.

"Ready as I'll ever be" Harry said, hope and joy brimming in his chest.

Hermione turned the hourglass over three times.
The dark ward dissolved. Harry had the sensation that he was flying, very fast, backwards. A blur of colours and shapes rushed past him; his ears were pounding. He tried to yell but couldn’t hear his own voice – And then he felt solid ground beneath his feet, and everything came into focus again –

He was standing next to Hermione in the deserted Entrance Hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors.
He looked around, almost breathless from seeing his old school from before the war; worn, warm and wholly perfect.

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry’s arm, pulling him from his thoughts and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom cupboard; she opened it, pushed him inside amongst the buckets and mops, followed him in, then slammed the door behind them, covering them in near total darkness.

"Lumos" Harry whispered, covering the tip of his wand with his hand to lessen the light, and looked around, choosing not to sit in darkness like last time.

It was actually quite a nice broom cupboard, tall ceiling he thought before he could help himself, comparing it to the cupboard he had grown up in.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, gesturing to his wand

"The Entrance Hall is well lit Hermione, no one will notice a small light like this" he said and watched as she pressed her ear against the door.

Recounting just as before how she was listening to themselves passing through.
Harry offered her a bucket to sit on, sitting down on an upended crate himself.

"So a Time-Turner, makes sense, what with you disappearing all year yet somehow attending all classes. You really are something Hermione, a third year being granted permission to use such a thing" Harry began, wanting to compliment his friend on such a huge accomplishment that he had never really gotten the time to mention to her before.

"What - you know what a Time-Turner is Harry?" She whispered back, gobsmacked expression on her face, and he shrugged

"Only through books - which I do read 'Mione, it's one of my favorite past times and the library used to be the one place I could avoid the Dursleys. It's just hard to find the time when every year there's a new threat against my life. But yeah I know"

"I- I uhm got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I’ve been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. It's actually kind of a big deal, thanks... oh, but that aside, Harry, I don’t understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back three hours? How’s that going to help Sirius?"

Harry stared at her shadowy face. And suddenly he wanted to cry.

"Harry it's okay! We'll figure it out, I know it! Sirius will be fine!" his friend said worriedly - aparrently how he was feeling had been showing. The why was wrong, but he was grateful nonetheless. He wanted to cry, because they were really doing it. He was back, he was gonna get to try again, and most importantly, Hermione and Ron - when he regained consciousness - were with him.

"Yes it will be okay" he whispered back, and his worried friend nodded, but quickly got them back on track.

"But what happened, we were walking down to Hagrid.. " Hermione muttered, brows furrowed.

"Dumbledore said we could save more than one innocent life ... Hermione, we’re going to save Buckbeak" Harry exclaimed, pretty sure that's what he had said last time.

"But – how will that help Sirius?"

"Dumbledore just told us where the window is – the window of Flitwick’s office Where they’ve got Sirius locked up! We’ve got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Sirius! Sirius can escape on Buckbeak – they can escape together!"

From what Harry could see of Hermione’s face, she looked terrified.

"If we manage that without being seen, it’ll be a miracle!"

"Well, we've got a pretty good record in that department don't we?" said Harry. He stood up and pressed his own ear against the door.
"Doesn’t sound like anyone’s there … come on, let’s go …"

And ran they did, Harry with a bit more certainty to his statements this time round - not that it helped a whole lot, besides him possibly being a bit less of a hindrance for Hermione to drag along.
But they made it, and Harry quickly discovered how keeping quiet and not asking his friend questions made it easier for them to get around.

They crept through the trees until they saw the nervous Hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, and they quickly acted like before - honestly it was all like before, and even if Harry just went along with it, the events unfolded mostly the same way they had back the first time.

But now, it was all about waiting for the right moment, so they did.

Listening to the unplesant Macnair swear, as he and Fudge discovered the hippogriff was gone, was about the only delightful thing about the whole stressful ordeal.
Harry and Hermione listened closely. They heard footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the
snap of the door, and then silence once more.

They discussed briefly, but their options were severely limited, so they moved to the Whomping Willow and watched the events unfold, calming each other by squeezing the others hand when it became too much.

The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches, relentless like always.
They watched as one by one, everyone disappeared down the gap in its roots, and Harry felt his skin crawl and his stomach turn - he wanted to go, face Sirius, help him, hug him, just make absolutely sure he was alive and (un)well once more.

"Harry we can't! Please I know it's hard, but we've got to stay hidden, it's the one rule we can't break, please trust me"

And it was enough for Harry to stop struggling, "I do trust you 'Mione, with my life if I had to, it's just... I'm afraid. Afraid I'll lose someone again and I don't think I could bear- umph!"

Hermione had jump-hugged him, squeezing him so hard he thought his bones might be permanently altered, but he squeezed back all the same.

"You won't, Harry I swear I won't let it" she whispered, frightened but fierce all the same.

Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Snape had come charging out of them, running towards the Willow.
Harry’s fists clenched as they watched Snape skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around and shortly after disappearing under Harry's cloak (the act still made his blood boil) and going down under the Willow.

"So that’s it," said Hermione quietly. "We’re all down there … and now we’ve just got to wait until we come back up again …"

She took the end of Buckbeak’s rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around her knees, and Harry knew what was coming; the most important moment which he had only recently returned to himself.

"Harry, there’s something I don’t understand ... why didn’t the Dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out … there were so many of them …"

Harry sat down, too. He explained what he’d seen; how, as the nearest Dementor had lowered its mouth to Harry’s, a large silver something had come galloping across the lake and forced the Dementors to retreat.
Hermione’s mouth was slightly open by the time Harry had finished.

"But what was it?"

"There’s only one thing it could have been, to make the Dementors go," said Harry. "A real Patronus. A powerful one."

"But who conjured it?"

Harry didn’t say anything. He knew. He'd once thought it was his father or some apparition of him - and wouldn't that have been grand - but no.

"Didn’t you see what they looked like?" Said Hermione eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"

"No," said Harry. "He wasn’t a teacher, I can't say who, but someone definitely saved us..."

The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermione sat with her face turned towards the Willow, waiting.
And then, at last, after over an hour …

"Here we come!" Hermione whispered.

She and Harry got to their feet. Buckbeak raised his head. They saw Lupin, Ron and Pettigrew
clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots. Then came Hermione … then the unconscious Snape, drifting weirdly upwards. Next came Harry and Black. They all began to walk towards the castle.

Harry’s heart was starting to beat very fast. He glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon …
The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement –

"There goes Lupin," Hermione whispered. "He’s transforming –"

"Hermione," Said Harry as calmly as possible. "We’ve got to move!"

"We mustn’t, I keep telling you –"

"Not to interfere! But Lupin’s going to run into the Forest, right at us! We've got to run, come on we can go back to Hagrid’s it's empty now!" Harry said, adrenaline rushing through him - facing a werewolf wasn't exactly something he wanted to do.

They ran, fast as they could, Buckbeak cantering along behind them.
The cabin was in sight. Harry skidded to the door, wrenched it open and Hermione and Buckbeak flashed past him; Harry threw himself in after them and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly, and they both shushed him.

Hermione calmed Buckbeak while Harry tried looking out the windows, "I have to go out 'Mione, we can't see anything from inside here, how are we going to know when it’s time to rescue Sirius?"

"Well … OK, then … I’ll wait here with Buckbeak … but Harry, be careful – there’s a werewolf out there – and the Dementors –"

That was the very thing Harry very much was counting on. He stepped outside again and edged around the cabin. He could hear yelping in the distance.
That meant the Dementors were closing in on Sirius … he and Hermione would be running to him any moment now.

And there were the Dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake ...
Harry began to run. The lake was coming nearer and nearer, he could see tiny glimmers of silver – his own attempts at a Patronus –

There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harry threw himself behind it, peering through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. Harry raised his head to look at the circle of Dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood.

- Any moment now -

Harry flung himself out from behind the bush and pulled out his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled.

And out of the end of his wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a familiar, blinding, dazzling, silver animal. It was galloping silently away from him, across the black surface of the lake. Charging at the swarming Dementors and the they were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness … they were gone.
The Patronus turned. It was cantering back towards Harry across the still surface of the water.

He had made it!

Throat tight, he stared at the still forms at the other side of the lake, where he knew Sirius and himself lay, alive, and breathing, and the Patronus walked to him, brushing ever so slightly against his arm as if to offer comfort, before disappearing.

Then, with a great leap of his heart, he heard hooves behind him – he whirled around and saw Hermione dashing towards him, dragging Buckbeak behind her.

"What did you do?" She said fiercely. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"I just saved all our lives …" said Harry. "Get behind here – behind this bush – I’ll explain."

Hermione listened to what had just happened with her mouth open yet again.

"Harry, I can’t believe it – you conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those Dementors! That’s very, very advanced magic …"

"I knew I could do it this time," said Harry, "because I’d already done it, I wasn't even using my happiest memories, I just knew and therefore did… Does that make sense?"

His friend looked unsure, impressed, harried, and still utterly frightened, but no less fierce as she held on to Buckbeaks rope, her gaze moving away as she caught sight of something behind him.

Together they peered around the bush at the other bank. Snape had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harry, Hermione and Sirius onto them. A fourth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ron, was already floating at his side. Then, wand held out in front of him, he moved them away towards the castle.

"Right, it’s nearly time," said Hermione tensely, looking at her watch. "We’ve got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We’ve got to rescue Sirius and get back into the ward before anybody realises we’re missing …"

They waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to them whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.
Harry, checking his watch looked up at the castle, and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.

"Look!" Hermione whispered. "Who’s that? Someone’s coming back out of the castle!"

Harry stared through the darkness. "Macnair!" said Harry. "The executioner! He’s gone to get the Dementors! This is it, Hermione –"

They climbed up an Buckbeak's back with a slight struggle.

"Ready?" he whispered to Hermione. "You’d better hold on to me –"

He nudged Buckbeak’s sides with his heels. Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. Harry gripped his flanks with his knees, feeling the great wings rising powerfully beneath them. Hermione was holding Harry very tightly around the waist; he could hear her muttering, "Oh, no – I don’t like this – oh, I really don’t like this –"

Harry urged Buckbeak forwards. They were gliding quietly towards the upper floors of the castle… he pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned. He was trying to count the windows flashing past –

"Whoa!" he said, pulling backwards as hard as he could.

Buckbeak slowed down and they found themselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that they kept rising up and down several feet as he beat his wings to remain airborne.

"He’s there!" Harry said, spotting Sirius as they rose up beside the window. He reached out, and as Buckbeak’s wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

Sirius looked up. Harry saw him break into a grin, as he leapt from the chair and to the window, staring at Harry through the glass with what seemed to be tears in his eyes.

Without thinking Harry glanced down at the lock on the window, "ALOHOMORA" he shouted and the window sprang open.

"Get on – there’s not much time," said Harry, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. "Hurry up, we've got to go – the Dementors are coming. Macnair’s gone to get them."

Sirius didn't hesirate, but placed a hand on either side of the window-frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky he was so thin. In seconds, he had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak’s back, and pull himself onto the Hippogriff behind Hermione.

"OK, Buckbeak, up!" said Harry, shaking the rope. "Up to the tower – come on!"

The Hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upwards again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements and Harry and Hermione slid off him at once.

"Sirius, you’d better go, quick, you're not safe here, you've got to get away" Harry panted, terrified for just a moment, that something would go wrong just as they'd thought they made it, even though he knew Sirius would get away safe.

"They’ll reach Flitwick’s office any moment, they’ll find out you’ve gone."

Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head, Sirius was still staring down at Harry, holding his shoulders in a tight grip with a haunted smile on his face

"I'm so thankful you're safe Harry, thank you, I promise I'll be in contact as soon as possible! I'm not leaving you alone"

Slightly confused, as this hadn't been what Sirius said last time, but grateful all the same, Harry smiled at his godfather, and pushed him back on the hippogriff.

"GO!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

Sirius wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.

"We’ll see each other soon, stay safe you two, and thank you" he said and squeezed Buckbeak’s sides with his heels.

Harry and Hermione jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more … the Hippogriff took off into the air … he and his rider became smaller and smaller as Harry gazed after them … then a cloud drifted across the moon … they were gone.

Though elated that Sirius had made it away safely, Harry felt weirdly empty. He'd pretty much been thrown back into the world, smack in the middle of everything - and he was grateful, really, so happy to be back - but it felt a bit like he regained something only to lose it once more moments later.

"Harry!"

He snapped out of his thoughts, Hermione was tugging at his sleeve, staring at her watch.

"We’ve got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us – before Dumbledore locks the door –"

"Yes, let's get going" said Harry, wrenching his gaze from the sky.

They slipped through the doorway behind them and down a tightly spiralling stone staircase. As they reached the bottom of it, they heard voices. They flattened themselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Snape. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"… only hope Dumbledore’s not going to make difficulties," Snape was saying. "I dont see how things could go any different"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors, this whole Black affair will finally be behind us, it's been highly embarrassing. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we’ve got him at last … I daresay they’ll want to interview you, Snape … and once young Harry’s back in his right mind, I expect he’ll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him …"

Harry clenched his teeth. He caught a glimpse of Snape’s smirk as he and Fudge passed Harry and Hermione’s hiding place. Their footsteps died away. Harry and Hermione waited a few moments to make sure they’d really gone, then started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor – then they heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" Harry muttered, grabbing Hermione’s wrist. "In here!"

They tore into a deserted classroom to their left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in tearing spirits, laughing his head off.

"Oh, he’s horrible," whispered Hermione, her ear to the door. "I bet he’s all excited because the Dementors are going to finish Sirius …"

Thinking back on the year with Umbitch, and during the war, Harry found he didn't hold the same enmity towards Peeves as he once had.

"He's not all bad" he muttered, ignoring the incredulous look Hermione sent him, before she also checked her watch.

"Three minutes, Harry!"

They waited until Peeves’s gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.
They had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital-wing entrance.

"OK – I can hear Dumbledore," said Hermione tensely. "Come on, Harry!"

They crept along the corridor. The door opened. Dumbledore’s back appeared. "I am going to lock you in," they heard him saying. "It is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Dumbledore backed out of the room, closed the door and took out his wand to magically lock it.
Harry and Hermione ran forwards. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver moustache.

"Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" Said Harry quietly "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak …"

Dumbledore beamed at them. "Well done. I think –" he listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. "Yes, I think you’ve gone, too. Get inside – I’ll lock you in –"

Harry and Hermione slipped back inside the dormitory. It was empty except for Ron, who was still lying motionless in the end bed. As the lock clicked behind them, Harry and Hermione crept back
to their own beds, Hermione tucking the Time-Turner back under her robes. The next moment, Madam Pomfrey had come striding back out of her office.

"Did I hear the Headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?" She huffed.
She was in a very bad mood. So Harry and Hermione thought it best to accept their chocolate quietly.

Madam Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate it. But Harry could hardly swallow.

"Could I have something to drink please" he choked out, and the medi-witch sent him a hard stare, but relented and conjured two mugs for both he and Hermione.

They were waiting, listening, their nerves jangling … And then, as they both took a fourth piece of chocolate from Madam Pomfrey, they heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above them …

"What was that?" said Madam Pomfrey in alarm.
Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door.

"Really – they’ll wake everybody up! What do they think they’re doing?"

Harry was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer –

"He must have Disapparated, Severus, we should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out –"

"HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"

"Severus – be reasonable – Harry has been locked up –"

BAM.

The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," Fudge barked "This door’s been locked, calm down, man! You’re talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT –"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I’ve been with them ever since you left!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further."

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behaviour, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I’d watch out for him, if I were you, Dumbledore"

"Oh, he’s not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He’s just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He’s not the only one!" puffed Fudge. "The Daily Prophet’s going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriffs escape to get out, and I’ll be a laughing stock! Well … I’d better go and notify the Ministry …"

"And the Dementors?" said Dumbledore. "They’ll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh, yes, they’ll have to go, said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they’d attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy … completely out of control … No, I’ll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight. Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance …"

"Hagrid would like that," said Dumbledore, with a swift smile at Harry and Hermione.

As he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.
There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ron had woken up. They could see him sitting up, rubbing his head, looking around.

"What – what happened?" he groaned. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where’s Sirius? Where’s Lupin? What’s going on?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"You explain," said Harry, helping himself to some more chocolate, though he still moved to his friends bed to be close to him.

*

Later that night after Ron had been filled in and they assured him they were okay - the poor lad had been absolutely frightened on their behalf, moreso than the first time around, and Harry found himself weirdly happy about the proof of their bond once again - and a while after the large clock had struck 2am and his two friends had been asleep atleast half an hour, Harry snuck out of the hospital wing and headed towards the dungeons.
He had someone he needed to find.

The trek to the dungeons was oddly nostalgic, now that he had the time to fully appreciate being back, and also thankfully quiet. No prefects or teachers walking around to stop him, nor Peeves to reveal his location.

He stopped in front of the aforementioned door at last, dreading having to knock, but knowing he was going to, this was another conversation that could not wait.
From the flickering light under the door, it seemed the fireplace was still lit and therefore the office was probably still occupied.
Just like he had been counting on.
With a heavy sigh, he lifted his hand and knocked.

It was a long few moments before a harsh 'enter' was barked out with so much fervent anger it made Harry flinch against his will, but enter he did.

The silence was almost deafening, and Harry could have sworn that the temperature dropped several degrees as beady black eyes glared at him.

Severus Snape was in a foul mood, and a large portion of his displeasure was now standing before him.

"Please hear me out professor, I have to speak with you" Harry managed to get out, no matter how much it pained him to beg Snape for anything.
The man fumed, but gestured sharply to the chair before his desk, and Harry mutely sat down.

Harry stared at his professor for a long time, observing the ever growing sneer on the mans face as the boy before him remained silent.

"Spit it out Potter, why have you come to see me when we could both be doing more worthwhile things with our time, or do you perhaps have more hexes you would like to throw my way?" The older man said slowly, pronunciation clear, and tone chilling to the bone.

And Harry, he was thinking hard, he had by some miracle received this second chance, and he would need to do better.
So much better.
And that started with embracing some of the Slytherin qualities the Sorting Hat had once said he possesed, in favor of his more usual gryffindor traits.

He needed all the support he could get, and if he couldn't expect support, then the absence of malice would have to do, and he would need cunning to achieve it.

"Professor, do you know anything about the muggles I have been placed with?" He began, obviously somewhat catching the other man by surprise.

"Whatever does that have to do with-"

"I was 7 when I learned my name wasn't 'freak' or 'boy'" Harry interrupted and his professor abruptly closed his mouth, a sliver of shock painting his face for all but a second.

"I know that's a weird thing to start out saying," he said, and lowered his eyes, remembering how very frail his current body looked and hoping it would add to his words.

"And I know you hate me because my father did something to you when you were all students. Though I'm not aware of what exactly he could have done, for you to despise me this much professor." He raised his eyes at the last words, gaze hardened as he met the eyes of the now stony faced man.

"But I never knew my father professor, or my mother. All I remember of them is their dying screams, and I have only the dementors to thank for that. All I ever knew was that I was unwanted. That I was a burden. That I was wrong.

My relatives made sure I knew atleast that, as they locked me in the cupboard under the stairs - my childhood room - angry and hateful as they did so, punishing me with starvation, or chores too hard for a child like myself. As I got older and my 'freakiness' stronger, so grew the punishments.
Before coming here my first year and being away from them for more than a week in a row, I had forgotten what it felt like not to be in physical pain."

"You treat me like a person who grew up with everything professor, as if all I ever knew was love and adoration, as if this title of being the 'Chosen One', wasn't something I only learned existed after I was introduced to the wizarding world by Hagrid.
Hagrid who was the first person that didn't believe my relatives when they said I was trouble and who treated me kindly regardless.
Ron was the first person to ever befriend me and Hermione was the first one who ever hugged me."

He took a deep breath. This was not a topic he had ever really discussed. To be honest, thinking about his past too much still made him sick to his stomach, and this; revealing it to a person who currently hated him? Yeah he was definitely nauseous.
But it had to be done.
Harry had not forgiven Snape for all he had done, his callous behavior, his obvious contempt and how he had treated Harry and others, no matter the role he had to play as a spy. He had been the Boggart of a 13 year old Neville, whose parents had been tortured insane by Bellatrix, yet the boy had feared his teacher more than her. Harry could not forget that, no matter how much he had tried over the years.

But if they could be less like enemies and more like reluctant allies - the very thing they should have been all along - then it would make things a lot easier in the long run.

The stony faced man looked as unimpressed as always, but if Harry's lacking legilimency skills were at all working, then he believed he saw - surprisingly - regret in the older man's eyes.

"I'm not saying this because I want your pity. I survived all on my own, for 10 years, without the help of you or Dumbledore, or any other adult. And now I'm not alone anymore.
I have my friends, and I think if I use whatever power I have, and The Fates are with me, I might even get to have a godfather.
I might get to be free of my so called 'relatives' grasp, but a lot of this, is dependant on you not letting yourself be overtaken by your resentment Sir.
I know you hate my godfather as well. But he is all the family I have.
And if none of those reasons are good enough for you to not act against what I'm asking, then please, do it for my mother."

Harry could tell the man had been wavering as he spoke, but at the mention of his mother, of Lily, the stone mask crumbled and fury and grief mixed together.

"You dare try to manipulate me, Potter?" He spat out, but there was less heat behind the words than usual.

"I don't think it can be called manipulation when I'm telling you straight to your face, Sir.
I'm asking you to do it for her, because I believe she was one of few people you cared for, atleast in the past, and yes I am my father's son, but I am just as much my mother's.

I don't think you're benevolent or anything, but I do think that if you cared even a little for her, then yes you might act, where no one else did before you.
McGonagall didn't intervene even though she suspected my home situation wasn't ideal. Dumbledore didn't act when I begged him not to send me back, when I said anything would be better than going back to that house.

So here I am. I need your help Professor.
Pettigrew escaped - and yes here I assume Dumbledore filled you in in the ways he never does me - and you can look through my mind if you need more evidence of his existence. I'll ask Ron and Hermione too, Remus probably won't even be allowed to testify, but most of all I need a respected figure in the Wizengamot to back up my claim, if Sirius is to be cleared of his charges.

They will be loathe to do so, but if we make enough noise, and if you are willing to testify too, then it might be enough, Sir"

Beady black eyes observed him, pondering, and really Harry had to give it to the older man, that if not counting the mention of his mom, then he really handled unforseen things with calculated calm.
So Harry steeled himself, he could tell the other man needed some answers, and if at all possible, he would have to give them.

"You surprise me in some ways Potter, particularly in how you speak of the Headmaster. It was my assumption that the man could do no wrong in your eyes, yet your words say otherwise, explain that"

Not the worst question he thought, "Dumbledore is a great man Sir, I won't deny that. But I think in many ways his many years of being revered is working against him. He is playing the long game, I can tell that much, but... I'm more than just a pawn. I'm a child, I'm not supposed to accept abuse because it makes the easiest route. I'm not supposed to carry this burden of saving the world, when I can barely save my own life. So it took me some time, but I can see that most of all, the Headmaster is human, and humans make mistakes."

"So he is not infallible despite his high standing is what you're saying. Yet if you realize that he is 'playing the long game' as you put it, then are you sure whatever sacrifice he asks of you, isn't worth it?"

Prepared for just such a question, Harry didn't flinch, despite having asked himself the same question countless times. But he remembered the voices of all those that cared for him too, speaking of his worth, of how he mattered, how self-sacrifice wasn't always the answer.

"If the cost of the game, is abuse, suffering, and death, of children and innocents, then no, I don't think it can be right. If that is the only way, then I believe the way should be discarded"

"... you are aware Mr. Potter, that such is an idealistic way of thought?"

"Yes. I'm aware. But I'll stand by it."

If it were possible, it seemed the lines on the older man's face became more pronounced as he leaned back in his chair, hands folded in front of him.

"...And... this, 'abuse' you speak of, if you want me to act, I will need more details as to what they entail"

For the first time he could recall, it almost sounded like the potions master... cared?
It made Harry want to scoff - after all those years where no one cared, including the man in front of him, this was just too little, too late - but now was not the time, it would not help him.

"If you want to know if their actions ever turned physical, then don't worry, I became used to that years ago, but as I said it mostly stopped after I entered Hogwarts since I then could pose a threat. They didn't stop, but it lessened.
Yes, apart from the verbal abuse, the starving me, forcing me to work unfair chores and to live in a cupboard, then yeah they turned physical early on, I don't remember a time where they didn't. Petunia was not so bad, terrible of course, but not the worst. My cousin used me as his own personal punching bag, but still, his parents raised him that way, so what other outcome could there have been? My uncle though, he's the real charmer."

He didnt mean to, but his voice cracked, and he had to use all his willpower not to flinch. His uncle really was a piece of work, affecting him this much even though technically it had been years since they last saw each other.

Refusing to get lost in his memories, Harry cleared his throat and continued, "Beating me when I upset him, sometimes just for breathing in the same room, or whipping me with his belt if I really screwed up in his eyes, and then lastly, he has always been especially fond of choking me until I pass out. So yes it's physical alright professor, and... I would like to be allowed to get away. So will you help me?"

This time as the potions master observed him, Harry knew better than to even try and see what the man was thinking, and just waited instead.
He had felt him brush against his mind several times as he spoke, so he assumed the man had seen the proof in his memories, and hopefully gathered what he needed.
It was probably a good thing that he expected nothing from him. If he refused, it would cost him nothing, this was not a must, and could therefore only be an additional gain.

"It seems I too, have put too much faith in the Headmasters words, as when he told me you grew up well cared for, I never doubted it, and did admittedly draw my own conclusions. That was my mistake, and I am sorry Mr. Potter.

I am not benevolent as you said.
But one thing I do not stand for, and that I have to take seriously as the Head of the snakes, is the abuse of children.
That both your own Head of House and the Headmaster has failed you on this account is inexcusable and I will not follow their lead.
I will not deny your assumptions about how I feel towards your godfather... we have a ... past... but in this case, as you asked, I could reign in my dislike for the man long enough to testify to his innocence.
Loathe as I am to do it, I will."

Harry nearly (definitely) gaped at the professor, an actual apology? That went beyond his wildest expectations.
He would really try? For him?
Against his will he could feel tears well up in his eyes and he quickly looked away, refusing to show Snape of all people, that much weakness.

To his relief the other man didn't comment on it, and instead carried on the discussion, "Though it seems you already realize this, I will still say it, if you staying with the muggles is the Headmasters plan, it probably means he would try to stop any testimony or connected trial in happening, as it could disturb his plan. We will have to exclude him from the process and go through the direct channels to weed out chances of him discovering our plan."

"I know Sir, that was my intention all along"

"Very well... you have given me many things to think about and get done, but you have my word Mr. Potter, you will not go back to those muggles, even if I have to break you from their care myself. Now I do believe it is about time you return to the hospital-wing you snuck out from, and attempt to get some rest. I will contact you whenever I have news" the man said, pinching his nose, brows furrowed and clearly dismissing Harry.

He only nodded, eager to escape the damp dungeons and return to his friends, yet he thought he might be able to get away with one more comment.

"One last thing professor... it's... regarding professor Lupin," he said, and observed the knuckles turn white on the man before him as he clenched his fist "I am not naive, I promise I am not referring to my father or Sirius here, but professor... did Lupin ever treat you worse than you treated him? I'm not proclaiming his innocence, I know who his friends were, but did he ever give worse than he got?"
Snape glared at him, fuming, but he controlled himself well, took a deep breath and gave a miniscule shake of the head.

"I just thought that was important to remind you of. Hate and anger... it makes it easy to forget or just not care about anything else. But yeah, he's an outcast Sir, this - our - world is not kind to his kind, and I have a feeling that is something both you and I can understand"

He didn't dare look up this time, aware that he, in the best case, was severely pushing his teacher, and looking up would not help matters.

"Hmm, indeed, now go Potter, I am tired" the older man said with a heaving sigh, anger still simmering under the surface, and Harry quickly stood up.
He had just reached the door when the potions master spoke again.

"This does not change how I feel towards your father or godfather Mr. Potter. However, it would indeed seem that you inherited more than just your eyes from your mother"

He didn't look back, hand pausing on the doorknob for only a moment, before he muttered out a low 'goodnight sir' and hurried off.

Chapter Text

Walking back Harry was so deep in his thoughts he barely registered his surroundings - luckily his feet knew the way after all the years of walking the halls.

He was nearing the hospital wing, when as he turned a corner, he bumped directly into someone.

"Oomph-"

"Ugh-"

Were the twin exclamations echoing through the hall as two bodies collided.

"Wha- Potter?" Said a surprised sounding voice, and Harry looked up from where he had fallen to the floor, only to freeze up at the sight of the person before him.

Cedric!

Grey eyes met green, and Harry was suddenly thrown back (forward?) in time, to when he'd once been in a graveyard and that very pair of eyes had been staring up into the air, seeing nothing.

The light forever extinguished.

"You alright Potter?" The winded boy asked, suddenly more worried than surprised and Harry shook off the memories and cleared his throat, accepting the outstretched hand in front of him.

"I'm fine Cedric, but thanks" he said, missing the curious glance he received at that. He winced as the other boy pulled him to his feet, only then noticing a throbbing in his wrist.

Great, of course I'd sprain something he thought with a sigh, pulling back.

Or tried to anyway, there was suddenly an iron grip around his lower arm, and this time he looked up at the other boy in surprise.

"Uhh Cedric I'm okay, you can let go you know" he tried, but the bright-eyed boy before him only stared back harder and Harry nearly gulped, feeling almost as when Hermione used to scold him.

"You winced."

"Wha-"

"When I pulled you up, you winced, Potter. Did you hurt your hand?" The older boy asked, firm but not un-gentle.

Rendered speechless once again, Harry could only gape at the Hufflepuff - they had technically never spoken, yet he actually sounded concerned. Harry was not used to concern, unless from a select few people, and even then, they knew he could handle himself.

"Uhh no not really, I'm fine" Harry said shrugging, trying to pull away again, but the other boy still held firm. His eyes were searching his face, jaw set, and brows furrowed.

"You're a good liar Potter, unlucky for you I'm good at spotting such things. Calm down, I'm not gonna drag you to the hospital-wing," he said, and Harry wanted to interject how he was going there anyway, but the Hufflepuff continued before he could object, "There’s no obvious break, and from how you barely noticed yourself, a quick Episkey should be able to fix it".

"Err, but, I'm really-"

"It'll be faster if you just let me get it over with Potter, and let's say in return I won't involve your Head of House in how one of her students snuck out after curfew" he said and winked, and Harry briefly wondered if he'd entered an alternative universe and not just gone back in time, because suddenly everything seemed utterly surreal.

Cedric Diggory, Pretty-Boy-Diggory, the boy who had died right next to him, the boy whom, he had not technically spoken to yet, was concerned for him, and winking at him?? Harry was not really sure how to compute that.

"Ok" He stammered out at last and received a bright grin in return.

"Episkey" the older boy said confidently and touched the end of his wand to Harry’s wrist. For a few seconds it felt weirdly hot, but then the throbbing faded away and all felt well again.

"Thanks Cedric, really, but can I go now?" Harry asked, because the other boy had frozen after casting the spell and was now staring at the very wrist he still held onto, gaze positively murderous.

"What. Is. That?" Was asked through clenched teeth, as Cedric's gaze graced over the words etched into Harry's skin, and Harry suddenly felt dread crawling up his spine, as he remembered which wrist was currently on display.

After his date with Death, Harry had known he would need to glamour any visible scars that he had no explanation for, and the one on the back of his right hand was one of those. He just hadn't thought he would need to do it within 24 hours of returning.

He felt panic building up, this was not something he could have getting back to Dumbledore - the man was far too clever to not question its origin - but he didn't exactly have an excuse prepared.

Cedric looked up, expression still furious, but upon meeting Harry’s gaze, he looked first shocked, and then saddened.

"Please, please can you just let it go Cedric? I can't have this become known" he whispered, and the other boy looked troubled but finally released his grip on Harry’s arm. They stood in silence for a while, Harry struggling to meet the intense stare from Cedric, while he waited for his response.

"You know I'm a prefect right Potter?" He asked and got a small nod in response.

"It's not what you think, I promise, but I can't have anyone know Cedric, please."

"Are you in danger?"

"Wha-?"

"You, are you in any danger Potter, from whoever did this? And don't try to fool me, that's a foul scar, someone did it to you."

Harry thought desperately, he had apparently been caught by the only prefect in school who - if they even noticed - would have cared to inquire further.

"I'm not. This," he said and gestured with his hand awkwardly "won't happen again. I have... unkind muggle relatives, but I'm too much of a magical threat to handle now, so they won't ever hurt me seriously again. And I can't explain why, but it's for my safety that no teachers learn about this, I swear it Cedric, please let it go."

"... That's a big ask Potter. But as far as I can tell you're telling the truth, as long as you swear, on your magic, that you're not in danger from whoever did this" the Hufflepuff said slowly, looking pained to even utter the words.

"I swear, on my magic, that the person who did this is not a danger to me now" Harry swore solemnly, choosing his words carefully. Umbitch didn't care about silencing him, yet, so he was technically telling the truth.

"Very well, I expect you to tell me, or another prefect, if that changes Potter. I'm trusting you this time, but I'll be keeping an eye out."

And what else could he do but nod at that. Still bewildered that for one, he'd been discovered by a prefect almost immediately after returning, or second, that this was an actual conversation happening between him and Cedric Diggory - they had not even exchanged this many words during the entirety of the tournament last time - so bewildered it was, but it seemed as if he would somehow not get in too much trouble over it.

Should he call it his Potter luck? Trouble always found him, but not too much to handle.

"Good, now off you go, Potter, I'll see you around."

"Yeah thanks, see you around" he answered and hurried away, almost running as soon as he turned the corner. He could not deal with any more encounters on this night.

*

It was still relatively early the next morning when Harry woke up, knowing he had one more thing he needed to hurry and get done.

He looked at his friends, their bruises and scratches had healed overnight, and they now just slept peacefully, in a way that hadn't truly been possible for any of them after the war.

It was comforting for Harry to know they'd regained that, at least for now, he was back to change a lot of things, but he doubted a war could be avoided.

He looked around, but Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, probably in her office, so Harry quickly and quietly dressed himself, he still didn't quite feel ready for any more sudden meetings with the ghosts from his past... future? (... he'd have to figure out how to think of that soon), so he was counting on the early time working in his favor.

And then through the deserted castle he went, the heat and the time of year meant that once again people had fled outside or gone to Hogsmeade.

He knew the person he was looking for would be there though, and a little later he knocked on Remus' door.

"Come in" a tired voice sounded, and Harry wondered how bad his hopefully-still-teacher was feeling. He sounded exhausted, and slightly sick, yet last time around, he had made himself sound fine health wise.

"Good morning professor Lupin, do you have some time to talk?"

"Ah Harry, come on in, I suppose I am about to have nothing but time" his professor said and Harry could almost hear the echo of the first time they had this conversation.

"Don't quit professor, you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had, we actually learned so much this year. Why would you leave?" Harry asked and knew the why was going to determine the outcome of this conversation, but if he was right - and if Snape had listened even a little - then he could change how it had gone before.

The werewolf looked at him with a curious gaze, "How did you know I was going to say I was resigning Harry?"

"Well, to be honest it wasn't that hard. There's a supposed curse on this position so no one stays for more than a year - but we could break that, if only you stayed - and well... I don't mean to be rude, but you're very self-deprecating Sir. I got to know you a fair bit this year, and you told me about your own time at school here. So, I kind of just noticed, and quitting then made sense because of last night which I'm sure you're blaming yourself for - which you shouldn't Sir!"

The older man looked even more curious and slightly amused, which was a relief, Harry had feared he might get offended.

"You surprise me somewhat Harry. You look so much like your dad, and you sure also take after him, but I think I might have misjudged how much you take after your mother as well! Yes you're right, last night had me reconsidering and I don't believe it's safe for me to stay on. I could have bitten any one of you, or worse, and it could happen again, and someone might not be as lucky next time. So yes, I'm handing in my resignation to the Headmaster in a little while. It's for the best" he said with a sigh, looking weary, and Harry hated it.

He knew Remus, and he was one of the kindest men he had ever met - he wasn't perfect, but he was kind - and he faced so much misfortune because of a condition that he had no control over and which almost their entire society judged him on.

All was not lost though, there had been no mention of Snape, so Harry had to assume that despite his bitter disposition, Snape had truly reigned in his anger and disappointment. "You’re wrong Sir. I don't believe for a second that you would ever again forget to take your potion, plus if for some reason you were prevented from taking it, there's always the Whomping Willow. You're not alone anymore Remus, I know we're young, but Hermione, Ron, and I can help you - plus Sirius, he would come to your aid in a heartbeat, and you know it!"

"But he's a wanted man! It wouldn't be safe!"

"If that's your best argument, then we both know I'm right. Yes, Sirius is currently a wanted man, but he's innocent. Voldemort is still out there somewhere, we need to stick together, and to be honest, we need proper education in Defense. We need you to stay Remus, you are a great teacher, and we'll need as much help as we can get. Yes, you have lycanthropy, but it's manageable, and you're less of a danger than say Filch and his beloved torture methods, or most of the creatures that live in the Forest for that matter. Don't give up just because the world has always told you you should".

Perhaps it was ever so slightly with a smug smirk that Harry saw the baffled look on his teachers face, but hey, he had become a lot more persuasive over the years and he'd already decided to use everything at his disposal.

"Help us break this stupid Hogwarts curse and stay to prepare us for what's yet to come".

What followed was a long staring contest, and despite the years of being made to give up on wants and dreams, and therefore believing he had to fight Harry on this, his professor still had nothing on the determination that radiated off of Harry - he had been beaten down by the world his entire life too, and come out alive and utterly wronged yes, but with his head held high and wand at the ready.

On this, he could not be beaten. Which was why when Remus gave a defeated sigh, Harry felt like cheering! This was the first thing he had truly changed, and it gave him courage.

"I guess... I'll have a talk with the Headmaster, about some added security in case of me missing my potion-"

"You won't Remus-"

"But either way," the tired werewolf said with a raised eyebrow, interrupting Harry right back, "It seems that as long as my condition stays secret, I could stay for at least another year. Thank you, Harry, I truly had fully set my mind on wandering about again, this is much preferable.”

It was with a bright grin that Harry answered his still-professor, "You’re welcome, Remus, you deserve this you know, a job which you enjoy!"

His professors eyes softened, and if Harry had to guess, he would say he was reminiscing, going on the faint images he unwittingly saw whirling through his mind - of lazy days laying around the castle grounds, a friend group of four boys, one of whom looked uncannily like Harry, and sometimes an added three girls, also one of whom had fiery red hair and green eyes - he quickly looked down with a small smile, not wanting to spy on Remus' memories, but happy he had gotten to see a glimpse of his parents; happy and carefree.

"It's ever so slightly funny to hear you say that Harry, your parents were once the ones who used to drill that into my head. I think I had forgotten, but it's good to be reminded. Now as a thank you, I better hand these back to you" the man said, and winked at Harry as he laid two items out on his desk: his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map.

The second item surprised him, now that the man was still his teacher, but perhaps there was more of the once prankster left in Remus than he had expected, too.

"Thank you, Sir! Merlin I've missed the map, and I was nervous where my cloak had ended up, thanks so much!"

They chatted for a little while longer, with Harry once again telling Remus about his Patronus and the shape it took. And it was funny, to be in a situation for the second time, but having it go an entirely different way. It felt odd, scary, but oh so good as well. Like a new beginning!

As Harry left the office, he had a nagging suspicion he would run into the Headmaster, even if the hour was earlier than last time around. He had had a feeling the Headmaster had some kind of map of his own, or similar anyway, as his timing truly had no comparison.

He'd never gotten to confirm it, but maybe this time around he could.

"Ah Headmaster, how nice to see you this morning" he said indeed after rounding a few corners, and coming across the colorful form of who he knew to be a great man.

He hadn't gotten to appreciate it last night, but it truly was good to see the man alive and whole once more. Even if he knew things had to be different between them this time.

"Harry, what a wonderful morning indeed, and a pleasure to see you as always, might I ask where you're coming from? Or going perhaps?" The old wizard said, twinkle in his eyes and a tell-tale rustle in his great beard revealing a smile.

"Oh I just came from Professor Lupin's office, he gave me back my cloak, and we had a little talk, about, you know, stuff, I'm very excited to learn from him again next year, it seems we can finally put an end to the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, what with him returning willingly" Harry said, with a happy smile, watching for Dumbledore’s reaction.

And he seemed surprised, for a few moments, before he smiled back, but Harry could see the thoughts churning behind his half-moon spectacles - not that he got even an echo of the man's thoughts, he was a famous Legilimens after all - but he wondered all the same what the Headmaster was thinking.

"Yes, it would appear so, it is due to my own folly that I have not been able to dispel the rumors surrounding the position, but it seems you have succeeded where I could not Harry, as I heard whispers of Remus wishing to resign - a great shame had it been true - which you have now properly put to rest. I am proud of you Harry, you are turning out to be a fine young man, a wonderful mix of your parents I must say, and then, something solely yours as well. It makes this old wizard hopeful for the future".

But not for mine, Harry couldn't help but to think, not truly angry that the Headmaster had known and been willing to have him die for the cause last time, since he'd been willing too (groomed to be). But it stung a bit, that a man he had kept in such high regard, had given up on his future, so to speak.

"Thank you, Sir," was all he said though, and nodded goodbye, hurrying on in the opposite direction before they could start on another topic.

He had to be careful, he wasn't about to delude himself into believing that Dumbledore wasn't one of the greatest geniuses of the century, but Harry’s truth was one he couldn't share with anyone. Death had made sure he knew that the first time they met; no one could pull his encounter with Death from his mind, as a form of protection from meddling with time and fate.

But Dumbledore... if he didn't watch out, he would piece too many things together, but as the true reason was un-knowable, Harry dreaded what the old wizard might deduce was the reason for his change or sudden oddities.

As he hurried back to the hospital wing and reached the still closed doors, he could hear loud voices echoing through the hall and stopped in surprise to listen.

"... d'you mean gone? He wouldn't just leave without telling us!"

"It's true, we'd stick together after a night like last night! Something's gotta be wrong!"

"Now now calm down children, you've only barely recovered, I'm sure there's a-"

Having heard enough, and simultaneously happy that his friends felt his absence like he felt theirs, and also sorry he hadn't thought to tell them where he went, Harry quickly pushed the doors open and felt suddenly small under the three intense gazes that were sent his way.

"Harry!"

"Mate!"

Seconds later he was engulfed in a hug as both Ron and Hermione rushed to his side.

"Sorry guys, I just went to see Professor Lupin and update him on yesterday, I didn’t want to wake you just for that."

They pulled back, Ron simply sighing and shaking his head, while Hermione glared at him, "Harry James Potter! You idiot! Of course, you wake us up, you can't just go on your own when we just survived a hellish night, we have to stick together! We didn't even know if something else had happened, you dumb... dumb face! Don't do that again" she chided him, and Harry could easily recognize the unease and worry in her words over the anger she tried to present.

He scratched his head sheepishly, Death had said they would get to keep their connection, but he hadn't expected how much of it that meant, and well, it seemed all! They got to be free of the nightmares haunting their future-past, but their shared closeness was just the same.

Harry couldn't have been more grateful.

"What she said mate, we're The Golden Trio, we stick together" Ron added and the faint fear Harry could glimpse in his eyes, was something he never wanted to be the cause of again.

He would have to throw away his assumption that he was completely alone in this. They would be with him every step, knowledge of the future or not.

"Yes, sorry I was a big dumb face, I won't do it again, I promise guys.”

With a clap on the shoulder from Ron and a small huff from Hermione, it seemed his friends forgave him. Madam Pomfrey made a frustrated sound in the background, muttering under her breath and disappeared back into her office, though she left the door open as to be sure she could hear them should they need help.

*

It was once again around noon when The Golden Trio was released from the hospital wing, and at Harry's suggestion they ended up sitting near the lake again, as they talked about all the events of the previous night, plus the gist of his earlier conversation with professor Lupin - he didn't tell them about the conversation with Snape, he just couldn't see how he could explain it to them in a way that would make sense with their current level of distrust and dislike for the man.

It wasn't something he would get into a habit of doing though, keeping secrets from them. Going forward he planned to have them as included as possible to make sure he didn't have to omit stuff as it happened.

And yes, it did mean more danger for them, if they were to be included in everything - Harry hated the very thought - but as he had already witnessed, trying to keep them away wouldn't work, and lessening their friendship by excluding and pushing them away was one thing he couldn't do. Didn't know how to, really.

They were meant to stand by each other, and come what may, they would!

Sitting in the shade of a tree, Ron soon dozed off, and Hermione had pulled out a book from Merlin knew where, while Harry watched the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water.

He strangely found himself reminded of the Mer people he knew lived there too, and wondered if they coexisted in peace? Or maybe had separate domains? Like the squid was truly giant, it would need a lot of space, so really how-

A large figure suddenly blocked out the sun and abruptly pulled Harry from his thoughts.

"Hello you three!" Said a bleary-eyed Hagrid - why he wore that long moleskin overcoat even in this heat was a mystery - as he mopped at his sweaty face.

Ron happily snored on, but Hermione dutifully looked up from her book as she and Harry greeted the large man back. They exchanged pleasantries and pretended to be surprised at the whole Buckbeak thing, but soon waved goodbye to the half-giant as he continued on back towards the castle.

"Do you reckon there's a reason why he wears that coat even in this heat?" Harry asked, genuinely wondering, but cracked a smile at Hermione’s snort.

"Who knows, his mind works in mysterious ways that's for sure."

And such went their afternoon, relaxing, talking and just enjoying themselves after all that turmoil - it had been a long time since Harry had felt so carefree, but with his friends so joyous, and being back at Hogwarts, it was suddenly easy to just... be.

*

Once again, nobody at Hogwarts knew the truth of what had happened the night that Sirius, Buckbeak and Pettigrew had vanished, rumors were flying around of course, and to Ron's enjoyment, and Hermione’s exasperation, Harry added a few to the growing rumor pile as well, just for kicks - none came close to the truth anyway, so why not, was his reasoning.

It was therefore an intrigued pair of twins that cornered him one day as he was whispering one such rumor to Parvati Patil.

"...wandering about the forest all year like that, I wouldn’t be surprised. Giant, enormous, spiders I tell you! They say not even his bones were left! I mean, the monsters I've seen in there - ugh - but alas I digress, Black is probably gone for good!"

Ron was standing off to the side, seemingly trying to fit his whole fist into his mouth in an attempt to stop his laughter and Hermione just looked done with the whole thing, staring emotionlessly at the ceiling, when the twins appeared. Before Parvati could inquire further, or Ron and Hermione could interrupt, they had whisked him around the corner and down a mostly hidden alcove.

"Hullo Harrikins,"

"We've heard rumors,"

"That a certain raven-haired boy,"

"Is feeding the gossip mill!"

It wasn't quite a question, but Harry could tell he had caught the interest of the two pranksters. He looked up at the twin who had thrown an arm around his shoulders - Fred, laughing and joking with his brother once more, and George, looking whole and utterly content, now that the other half of his soul was back by his side. Despite their loud and expressive nature, it was as if a bit of peace had returned, the twins back together like they were meant to be.

"Exams are over, and Si-Black is gone, so what else is a boy to do to pass time?" Harry said with a wink and couldn't help but to laugh at the utterly delighted looks on their faces.

"My, oh my, Gred, it seems,"

"Yes, indeed it does Forge, that our dear brother,"

"Really hooked a good one this time!"

They chorused; their twin speak extra pronounced due to their excitement.

"But really, what's the harm, if anything me being the 'Chosen One' will only make them believe me more, when they see fit of course, and I'd like it if rumors that Black had died got spread around" he said with a pointed look, and which they answered with devious smirks, understanding what he meant immediately.

"Find us on the trip home, we'll update you on why in the world I'd want this, I promise" he said, knowing they wouldn't question him, or Ron and Hermione for that matter, but he trusted them enough to let them in on the secret.

He was planning on letting a lot more people in on whatever secrets possible this time.

Which was when Hermione turned the corner, Ron hot on her heels. Her gaze was fierce, brows furrowed, and the twins quickly took that as their cue and sauntered away before she could start nagging at them.

"What's up with them anyway?" A bemused Ron asked as the trio started walking back to Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione wanted to get some reading done and Harry had decided to join her - he was reading up on fourth years spells and potions and so on, to make sure he didn't display skills uncannily advanced for his usual level - and Ron had managed to convince Neville to play some wizards chess with him, which as there was still a while until dinner, fit with them all perfectly.

And dinner, wasn't that an interesting occasion lately, or all meals actually. Remus still sat at the high table so there were no sorry faces (save a few Slytherins) at his departure, and instead only excited chatter of how nice it would be to have the same teacher next year.

Then of course the usual Sirius Black gossip, now with a few extra rumors every day, curtesy of the twins.

Most of all though, was the lack of intense dislike coming from Snape’s spot at the table, mostly he ignored Harry all together now, but sometimes he could feel the man's gaze on him, though he fought the urge to stare back, choosing instead to seem ignorant.

There was such a lack of the usual display of hate that even Ron and Hermione started to notice and whispered together if the man had somehow suffered permanent damage from their attack on him. Harry knew different, but until he was actually away from the Dursley's, he didn't want to burden his friends with why he needed to leave that place, and as he had no guarantees, he would wait and see.

It was the day before the end-of-term feast that Snape got in contact with Harry via an unexpected source. Hermione has succeeded in dragging them all to the library one last time before they left, Ron was playing chess against Ginny for once, whom despite a valiant effort, was getting her ass thoroughly beaten. Harry was browsing through the many shelves, seeing if anything would catch his eye, when he became aware of someone watching him.

He inconspicuously slid his wand into his hand, hiding it under the long sleeves of his robes. He turned another corner abruptly, charging at the stranger, and stood face to face with... Malfoy??

He stared dumbfounded at the blonde boy; he was a lot smaller than when he had slipped through Harry's grasp, but a lot older than the smiling boy in the portrait. It rattled Harry in a way it probably shouldn't have, and for a moment the sneer slipped off the other boys’ face, replaced by confusion, but it was gone so quick Harry almost doubted it had ever been there.

"Potter," the other boy spat, eyes blazing and voice haughty, yet he sounded slightly different. Almost... nervous?

"Malfoy" Harry answered pleasantly, he had no anger left for a boy whose future he had seen and forgiven long ago. He knew better now, and even if Malfoy continued being a prat, Harry would choose to act nicer. Or well... try to at least.

"Did you want something Malfoy? You were watching me" Harry tried, seeing if the other boy would tell him why he was within five feet of someone he hated without any backup.

The blonde looked around, as if to make sure they were truly alone - very out of character for someone who loved an audience - before he met Harry's gaze head on, an unsure frown on his face as opposed to his usual sneer.

"Professor Snape requests your presence, after dinner today. He said you’d know how to get to him discreetly, whatever that means. There, I've delivered his message, don't go getting any ideas Potter, I still think you're a disgrace" the other boy whispered, eyes darting around.

"Oh, okay thanks Malfoy, I appreciate the effort you must have made, to deliver this message in secret. Thank you, Snape must truly be a good godfather for you to have been willing to do this" Harry said and grinned at the shocked expression on the Slytherin’s face.

"How do you-"

"Know that Snape is your godfather? I'm afraid that's a trade secret, but let's just say I'm the Heir to a Noble House, the Potters go very far back you know, even if I know very little about them, and so I have my ways. And no, I'm not telling anyone, whoever knows this is up to you Malfoy. Now I have to get back, but thanks again, see you around" he said and gave a quick, awkward wave, before hurrying off, still laughing to himself over the speechless form behind him.

What a sight for sore eyes, Draco Malfoy shocked into silence. Maybe he would have to be obnoxiously nice to the other boy more often, just to see that gobsmacked expression again.

On another note, so he'd have to see Snape after dinner... and what should he tell his friends? He still didn't know what the potions master was gonna say, so it was difficult for Harry to let his friends in on his home situation. It had been something he barely ever did, even before.

"All that browsing, and you still didn't find anything mate?" Said Ron and Harry looked up to see he had arrived back at where his friends were seated - Ron playing Neville once more while Ginny seemed to be practicing some spell (Harry had a nagging suspicion she was working on perfecting her Bat-Bogey hex) and Hermione was buried nose deep in a book.

"What can I say, I'm a picky reader, but it's a moot point, we gotta get going guys, dinner is about to be served!"

Hermione looked stricken, aware she probably wouldn't be able to pull them all back here before they left, while Neville looked relieved - Harry had to get better at inviting the other boy to join them apart from to play wizards chess against Ron - and the two red heads simply sniggered to themselves, both feeling very accomplished.

Thus, the new-and-still-being-formed quintet walked to the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

Realizing he couldn't tell his friends just yet, but knowing he also wouldn't lie to them unless he absolutely had to, Harry had settled on simply asking for them to trust him, that he would tell them soon, but he had something he needed to do that he couldn't involve them in yet - and no it wasn't dangerous, but it was important.

And they had - reluctantly - understood and told him to be careful, they would be waiting for his return in the common room.

So now, after a trip under his cloak - and thank Merlin he brought it, he had to sneak past both Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater on different floors (Harry heavily suspected they were about to meet up in an unused classroom somewhere, so he hurried in the opposite direction to avoid being dragged into anything, it wasn't as if it was after curfew yet.) He made it safe and unseen to Snape’s office in the dungeons.

He knocked and entered after a rumbly 'enter' rang through the door, waiting until after he closed it to take off the cloak.

"Mr. Potter, I see you made it here discreetly indeed like I asked."

"Uh yes hi professor, interesting choice of messenger I must say, but then again your godson is likely to keep quiet which is what we need."

Other than a raised eyebrow, Harry got no reaction from the potions master in regards to him knowing that tidbit of information, so he just quietly sat down.

Harry knew he should be nervous, a lot was hanging on this; he could actually get to be free of the Dursleys several years in advance, but perhaps he knew better than to expect anything in that regard, disappointed too many times before, so he was really only curious.

"Now," Snape said, hands folded in front of him and leaning forward ever so slightly "I do believe neither of us wish to drag this out by exchanging pleasantries, so I'll get right to it Mr. Potter.

I have very quietly asked around, in regards to what could be done with removing an underage wizard from a bad home - no names or ages were exchanged at any point, but as I suspected, there is really only one trustworthy option.

If you were not under the watchful eye of the Headmaster, perhaps we could go another way, but it's no use to go down that road when you indeed is his 'golden boy',"

Harry had not been expecting Snape to use that term, and thus he flinched against his will, which he just knew the other man noticed.

"... so the option I have come to suggest is this; removing you from their care to place you with another family wouldn't work, but what would work, and which Dumbledore would not be able to do anything against, is if we get you emancipated. You are the only Heir left to House Potter, and thus if you became Head instead, you would be viewed as a wizard who had come of age, you would get to decide for yourself where you lived, and whom you did so with".

Emancipation, of course, why had he never thought of that before? He had basically taken care of himself in every way for as long as he could remember anyway.

He wasn't aware of the last Heir to a House thing, but he knew of the concept of being liberated from parental control from the muggle world, he should have known, should have searched for it.

"This is not something you bear any blame on Mr. Potter. You are as you said yourself, still a child, it shouldn't be up to you to know these things. You asked for help, and I am giving it because it should be done, and everyone else has seemed to fail you. I might not like you, and you certainly not me, but it should be done."

Harry blinked in surprise, was Snape somehow, reassuring him??

"The least favorable part of this plan is that you would have to return to the home of your muggle relatives. You will not, however, spend even a second under their roof without my direct supervision. I will make sure to get there before you return with the Hogwarts Express, and from there we'll leave for Gringotts - they are the most efficient at this matter, magically speaking you would be emancipated almost immediately, and legally a few days after, but magically is what matters most, it means you would be free to go wherever in the eyes of our society.

Knowing a fair bit of what an upbringing like yours does to someone, I believe you to be resourceful enough to live on your own if you so wish, and coming from a Noble House you have the funds to live comfortably as well, so as I do not wish to offer, and I also believe you would not want to accept, I will not suggest that you live with myself."

"Oh, right, no I'm very grateful Sir, but... you're correct, I wouldn't want that, I know very well how to take care of myself."

"Very well, then I believe that's all for now, I will make the necessary appointments at Gringotts, and meet you at your relatives house in a couple of days."

Harry sat still for a few more moments, observing the other man "Thank you again professor... I really didn't expect anything, I was prepared to remain with them until my 17th birthday. So just... thank you. And see you in a few days, or at mealtimes I guess, but really see you at the Dursleys house, err, so long professor" Harry said awkwardly, having never experienced a civil conversation with the other man, and feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

He got up, scurried to the door and left with a backhand wave, refusing to look back at the potions master who sat as stony faced as ever.

Harry stood outside the door, taking a deep breath and was just about to put the cloak back on, when he suddenly got a weird hunch. He tucked the cloak back into his pocket and started walking towards Gryffindor Tower, only making it to the next corner before his hunch revealed itself; Malfoy was leaning against the wall, looking for all intents and purposes as if he just randomly happened to be standing there at this specific time.

Harry cocked his head, holding back a smirk as the blonde slowly looked his way, haughty expression almost perfect. Almost.

"Well good evening, Malfoy, funny running into you here, just outside Snape’s office, at the time and place only the three of us knew about" he said and almost snorted at the flustered look that passed over the Slytherins face, a faint blush painting his pale cheeks.

"What are you hinting at Potter?" He said with a familiar heat, but Harry found that he didn’t feel it himself, he knew too much about the other boy now to be able to clash against him in the same way - plus most of his anger had to do with Riddle or his followers (or the Ministry) and Draco was one who had suffered under their terrorizing hands too, it made it hard to stay angry.

"Not anything bad D-Malfoy, I'm guessing you're just worried about Snape."

"Why would I- I mean yeah I'm just checking up on him, he rarely asks for me to pass on messages, usually only when... well whatever."

And wasn't that a confusing answer, Harry knew he should have been feeling nervous at what the other boy wasn't outright saying; that he knew why Snape sometimes spoke to students in secret.

But... the other boy had once again come alone, and his snobby performance was almost gone entirely.

"I need his help. No one else has been willing to listen or do anything, but Snape is." Harry volunteered, and as expected saw recognition in the blondes’ eyes. He definitely knew the sort of help Snape sometimes gave, but surprisingly, it seemed he cared a little too, or at the very least, didn't think of such information as ammunition for anything.

"Well- I- wh- whatever Potter, not like I care, now if you'll excuse me, I have to go meet with the professor" he said, trying to put on his usual sneer as he swaggered away without a backwards glance and Harry suppressed a laugh, letting the blonde believe he didn't see through his clumsy attempt at seeming unaffected.

He turned around, wondering how something as little as a few minutes of simple civility had shown him more sides of Draco than the entirety of their school years before.

He went on his way, never noticing that the Slytherin did in fact look back once, half-disguised worry and confusion clear in his expression.

Entering through the portrait hole, Harry found the common room bustling with students sitting in their separate groups, relaxed and filled with the kind of lazy satisfaction of a school year almost being over and now only the holiday to look forward to.

Which Harry for once could almost relate to - the exam results would come out the next day and as he already knew, he, along with Ron and Hermione had passed every subject.

So had Neville and Dean Thomas, while Seamus had flunked History of Magic (really who could blame him) and would need to do a re-exam before school started back up. He would pass that and continue on along with the rest of them next term.

But for once, Harry apparently didn’t have to dread returning to the Dursleys; he was about to be free of them permanently, and they of him, and so he was truly excited for all the things he would suddenly be able to do.

Hermione and Ron were sitting off to the side, bickering apparently, and Harry smiled before heading over to them.

"Harry mate, all right?" Ron asked as he reached them and sat down on the floor in front of the fire, relishing the warmth that swept across his back.

"Yeah all right" he answered and flicked his wand, casting a Muffliato Charm around them to their surprise.

"Harry what-"

"I think... I owe you guys an explanation, but I just have to say, it's not pleasant, and it's very... hard for me to talk about" he began, grimacing. They'd figured out a lot by themselves last time (mostly Hermione) but even back then he'd never sat down and outright told them.

He wanted to do better though.

"Harry, you don't have to tell us anything, we trust you and that's more than enough" Hermione said quietly, worried, and, Harry guessed, having probably figured some of it out herself.

"I'm glad but... I want to, even if it's hard. You two are the closest to me in this world and I don't want to keep secrets between us. That being said, things are still very much up in the air, so I'll tell you the proper details after it's been confirmed."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, expressions serious and mood somber, as they turned to face Harry, joining him on the floor.

"I know this is gonna come as a surprise, but please let me get to the end before you say anything, or I'm afraid I won't get through it.

I went to see... someone, I had a hunch about something regarding them and I thought maybe they would be able to help me. And I needed their help, or need it I mean, and they've agreed to give it, though we have to keep it quiet, not even Dumbledore can know about it or we might not succeed-"

"But Harry if it's that important, maybe you shouldn’t be telling-" Hermione interrupted, with Ron nodding along, and Harry reached out and grabbed her hand to quiet her down again.

"It is important, but so are you two, and I trust you too, so I'm telling you. I need their help, and they've agreed to give it.

I'm going to Gringotts, along with them to become certified as the Head of my House. It's the only way we could think of that could get me immediately emancipated and that part can't wait. I know I've hinted at how my muggle relatives are unpleasant, but... you have no idea. They're terrible and-and They. Hurt. Me." he said through gritted teeth, refusing to allow his body to flinch or tremble.

Hermione gasped horrified and Ron looked utterly devastated.

"They always have, giving me worse and worse punishments as the years passed, with my uncle being the absolute worst. He's broken many of my bones over the years, and I just... I need to get away and before you suggest it 'Mione, I have told Dumbledore that I want to leave, that they're horrible, several times, but he believes it's best for me to stay with my actual relatives. And I'm done, I won't return to that, and luckily this person somehow agreed to help get me out."

His eyes burned, memories from years past flashing behind his eyelids, but he had been through so much worse. Now would not be when he broke down.

"Oh Harry" Hermione said tearfully as she - for once - slowly got near and carefully hugged him, allowing for him to refuse if he wanted.

He would never though, and sank into the embrace, clutching her tightly. Ron moved closer too and completed the Trio by pulling them both into his embrace as well, sniffling quietly.

"We won't tell anyone if that's what you need mate, but I swear, on my magic, whatever you need to be free of those... people, I'll help you, always!"

"Yes, always Harry, we're with you.”

He nodded into their arms, unable to speak, lost in his memories if not for their grounding presence.

"Thank you for telling us, that must have been so difficult, but I'm happy you're getting help Harry! No one should stay in an abusive home" Hermione said fiercely.

"Yeah, I kind of realized that too" he said and Ron gave a wet chuckle.

"Took you long enough mate, third year is basically over" he joked, still clearly rattled but having grown up with Fred and George he knew how to make a small joke to lighten the mood.

It was a good thing the people around them had gotten used to the trio behaving a little less than normal, so no one batted an eye at them suddenly huddling together in a hug.

They stayed sitting on the floor after that, needing the closeness of each other as Harry spoke a little of what his childhood had been like (ironic seeing as they were still technically children, but he had had to become an adult years before his time) and his friends remained quiet but supportive, horrified but firm, and even Hermione agreed to keep Dumbledore and other adults out of the loop without a second thought, simply believing Harry when he said the unidentified person was the only one who had been willing to help.

They said their goodnights that evening with another long embrace, and after they entered their dorms - the rest of their year mates having already gone to bed - Harry did something he knew would seem unusual for this time, but he could tell it was gonna be a rough night, what with having relived some of his worse memories. He silently, with a pillow under one arm, asked if he could sleep next to Ron, literally needing the presence of someone he loved and trusted. Just like they had done many times in the future-past.

The risk being that this third year Ron might not have reached an emotional point where he could nonchalantly accept such a thing for what it was; a friend needing help and support and nothing else.

To his surprise and joy, the red head looked baffled for a few moments, looking back and forth from the pillow under Harry's arm, to Harry himself, before sliding over and making room with a confused, worried, but open expression.

It made Harry wonder how much Death had really helped him, for while he had loved the Ron of this round the first time around, he was very aware of how the other boy had been somewhat lacking in the emotional department. He was grateful nonetheless, and wouldn't fret needlessly over it, simply accepting it instead as to focus on the many other things that needed to be done.

And so went the night, Harry waking up terrified and with a scream lodged in his throat several times, but Ron being there to assure him he was okay before chatting about little nothings until Harry drifted off again.

*

The end-of-term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold once again and while seated surrounded by his year mates and close friends, Harry wondered at it all, finding himself having to make a conscious effort not to constantly grin as he looked around.

Remus still sat with the teachers, Snape still occasionally stared at him (as did several other people, but not in a malicious way so Harry ignored it) Sirius was safe and would send his first letter as they left on the Hogwarts Express the day after, and around him, joyous and celebrating, was people that had been lost or permanently damaged in the war.

It was a great evening and Harry barely even struggled with filling his own plate, noticing both Ron and Hermione keeping an eye on him - maybe they had always nudged him to eat, more than he realized.

As everyone prepared to leave, Harry too prepared himself to be saying goodbye to the Dursleys one final time, and all he felt was relief, they were horrid people, but he didn't have the time to hold on to his anger for them. If all worked well, the universe, or maybe The Fates themselves, would make sure they received their dues someday.

*

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station next morning, Hermione gave Ron some surprising and Harry some old news. Even if he had known about it, he was still proud of the ever-eager-to-learn Hermione giving up the Time-Turner on her own, and this time he told her so. It had never been his strong suit, to compliment and affirm the good points of those close to him - simply because he had never learned from the Dursleys as such things had never been said to him, quite the opposite in fact - but Hermione and Ron, all of the Weasleys in fact had slowly taught him how just by being themselves.

"Oh thank you Harry, I really thought you'd be more surprised, but well still..." She said, drifting off, thinking and Harry guessed it was about how he seemed calmer or more assured maybe - he wasn't really - but strangeness always followed him so it probably wouldn't be that big of a deal.

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty per cent!" said Ron.

"I know," sighed Hermione, "but I can’t stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I’ve handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal timetable again."

"That'll probably be good, you were raised by muggles 'Mione it's not as of you don't know that world, even if wizards and witches have a different point of view and as for Divination, I'm thinking of dropping that too and taking up Ancient Runes instead, figure it'll be more useful down the road" he said to twin gobsmacked expressions and shrugged.

Trelawney wasn't a complete fraud, but that class didn't add anything to Harry’s learning, and he had dabbled a bit in runes in the time following the war and they were actually incredibly interesting and helpful. Warding for example was a great way of keeping a place safe.

"Wha-you haven't said anything about this either mate! Both of you really! You gotta tell me these things so I can at least follow along!" Ron spluttered, angry but not, mostly grumpy.

"Sorry mate, didn't realize I had been thinking about it before just now when Hermione said that, and, well I'd want you to switch too, but it means you'll have to study really intensely this summer so we can pass a test to allow us to start a subject a year later!"

At that the red head hesitated, looking immensely troubled "I can't believe I'm saying this but-" he began and turned to Hermione with a pained expression, "Would you help me then Hermione? The both of us could probably use your brains to succeed at this?" He asked with a sigh, somewhat defeated but determined nonetheless and Harry threw and arm over his shoulders, grinning.

"Brilliant! And just focus on Ron, Hermione, I've been reading quite a few tomes on runes this year - forgive me for not taking you along, it was just for fun, I didn’t actually know I would pursue it" he explained, a bitter taste in his mouth over the, albeit small, lie.

Ron let out a giant sigh ad he splayed himself out on the seat, saving Harry from Hermione’s questions as she focused back on the complaining boy, trying to encourage him.

A while later, after the witch with the trolley had been by and Ron had told them about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup - a whole other can of worms - Harry spotted what he had been waiting for; something very small and grey was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the window glass.

He quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm and caught it and brought it carefully inside. The owl dropped its letter onto Harry’s seat and began zooming around their compartment, very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task.

Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes.

Harry picked up the letter, seeing it was addressed to him as expected. He ripped it open and said, "It’s from Sirius" with a fond smile on his face.

"What?" said Ron and Hermione excitedly. "Read it aloud!" They asked, and just like last time, he did;

Dear Harry,

Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I can't tell you where, in case this falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about the owl’s reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I know I am on the run, but I plan to find you as soon as I can, I won't leave you alone Harry, I promise.

I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven’t a hope of finding me here, so I am more than safe.

There is something else I never got round to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt -

"Ha!" said Hermione triumphantly. "See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn’t jinxed it, had he?" said Ron.

"Ouch!" The tiny owl, now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

- Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from Gringotts vault number seven hundred and eleven – my own. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godfather.

It was the least I could do, as you deserve to be celebrated Harry, and I'm pretty sure your muggle relatives fail at that. That they fail at many things.

If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me.

Otherwise, I’ll write again soon. Sirius.

Harry blinked at the letter. It was similar but... there were definite differences. It made him frown and think of why? Had they really had such a different meeting this time that the letter would change too? He had truly done his best to stick to the events of last time, to ensure Sirius' safety. Well, at least he was safe, but it was strange.

If you look closely, you will find that I have left a few surprises for you on the other side suddenly flashed through his mind as he recalled what Death had whispered to him.

But it couldn't be!

No, no he would not jump to any conclusions, that could lead to complications not to say disappointments. He would, however, be open to the idea without expecting anything from it.

He cleared his throat, hoping he hadn't spaced out for too long and added "Wait there’s a PS..."

I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it’s my fault he no longer has a rat.

Ron’s eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly, and Harry smiled, maybe it wasn't that different at all.

"Keep him?" Ron said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment, then, to Hermione’s great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What d’you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

Harry laughed.

And Hermione huffed fondly.

"That’s good enough for me," said Ron happily. "He’s mine."

As they neared King’s Cross Station, Hermione’s face darkened as she stared out the window, with the boys still being oblivious.

"Harry... you were sure about getting away from your relatives, right?" She asked quietly though they heard her clearly.

Harry cast another quick Muffliato, you never knew who was listening at the doors.

"Yes, don't worry 'Mione, Snape is unpleasant, but if he makes a promise, he seems like the kind to keep it, and worst case that he doesn't, I'm leaving regardless, I know what to do now. They won't get to hurt me again that's for sure". His friends still looked worried but nodded, trusting his words.

"You'll always be welcome at The Burrow you know that right mate? Even as a Head of House you don't have to be alone, you could be with us" Ron said, trying for a grin, but his eyes said differently. Perhaps the nightmares that had kept him up had scared Ron more than he realized.

He was happy for the offer no matter what, being alone was perhaps one of the things he hated most.

"Thank you, Ron, and you too Hermione, I can see you thinking, coming up with things to tell your parents in order for me to be allowed to stay there as well" the bushy haired girl blushed at having been seen through, shoving Ron as he laughed at her.

"I'll write you as soon as I have any updates, should be already later tonight but please be a little patient, I don't know how busy I'll be."

Though not happy with the prospect of having to be patient in this instance, his friends agreed as the train pulled into King’s Cross Station, and they got ready to leave.

As he, Ron and Hermione stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters, Harry spotted his uncle at once and felt a familiar dread crawling up his spine, which he ignored as always, he had learned how to many years ago. The round man was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

Ron and Hermione stared with thinly veiled loathing at the man - which he of course didn't seem to even register as he was already staring back at the lot of them with disgust.

As the trio hugged goodbye, Ron glanced at the quivering moustache on Harry’s uncles face, murder in his eyes, "I’ll call about the World Cup," he whispered, unwilling to risk bringing more trouble Harry’s way, and Harry bid him and Hermione goodbye, then took a deep breath, calming himself and wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig’s cage towards his uncle, who greeted him in his usual fashion.

"You’re late" he snarled, staring down at the skinny boy.

"The train was on time so I don't see how I could be late when I came straight here" he said, voice monotone, knowing his uncle would blame him no matter what, but also that them being in public would keep him safe. Probably. And he’d promised his friends he would be, so he could – apart from that little tidbit – hold his tongue.

“Talking back now, are we?” he almost growled, narrowing his eyes, and yes Harry knew he would be safe until they were within the confines of number 4 Privet Drive – where Snape hopefully would already be – but Merlin, he disliked both the man in front of him, but also how said man made him feel.

The traumas of our childhoods really know how to linger, huh, he thought to himself, ducking his head as he followed his uncle through the hordes of people, choosing silence over risking the angry man’s wrath early.

The drive back was mostly quiet, except for the occasional road rage outburst from his uncle and a few chirps from Hedwig if the car stopped too abruptly.

Harry was close to vibrating out of his skin as they pulled up to the house, he might have forgotten how his uncle affected him, even if he had toughened up during the war and its aftermath, it seemed the body of his thirteen-year-old self remembered only all too clearly.

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about what you did last summer, boy,” Vernon said menacingly and grabbed Harry’s collar, lifting him up until only the tips of his toes touched the ground.

“Now get! You have some paying up to do” he finished gruffly and shoved Harry ahead, barely giving him time to grab Hedwig and his trunk – quite a ballast for his current self – and stomping off to the door where he glared angrily until Harry caught up, and hauled him inside, making him drop everything just inside the door and then slamming Harry against the wall hard enough to knock the air out of him, one thick arm pressing against his throat, cutting off his air supply.

His uncle was glowering, moustache quivering again, as his face reddened in rage, the arm was replaced by a hand, choking him, crushing against his windpipe, and he just had time to see spots form at the corner of his eyes, worrying about Snape being late and what that would entail for him, he had promised they wouldn’t get to hurt him again.

“Unhand the boy this instant!” a familiar voice shouted from the entrance to the living room, and in what seemed to be mostly out of surprise, his uncle actually did, making Harry gasp for air, as he slid down the wall, taking big heaving breaths to fill his aching lungs.

“Step. Away.” Snape added as he walked forward until the tip of his wand was flush against his uncle’s bulbous nose.

Harry looked up while rubbing his sore throat, seeing a pale faced Petunia hover behind Snape, with a trembling Dudley in turn trying futilely to hide behind his mother’s thin frame.

“Vernon! Oh dearie do what the wizard says!” Petunia screeched and luckily – or unluckily depending on how one saw it – the red-faced man listened and backed away all the way to the stairs where he fell on his big behind with a thud.

“Potter, are you alright to get up? I wouldn’t want to… impose on these people any longer than necessary” Snape drawled, and Harry quickly nodded, getting to his feet.

“I think this might be the happiest I’ve ever been to see you professor” he croaked and cleared his throat several times. The man in question of course didn’t deign that with an answer, but Harry could have sworn he saw the corner of his mouth lift.

Without further ado, Snape cast a featherlight charm on the trunk, asked Harry to release Hedwig outside, and then grabbed his arm, the both of them casting one last glance at the cowering family.

“I hope this is the last we ever see of each other, I won’t be returning anyway, so have a nice life. Or don’t, either way I don’t care enough about any of you to ever find out” Harry said, more tired than anything, and found it fitting when they only ignored him. That was what they had spent most of his childhood doing anyway: denying his existence wherever they could.

“I’m ready professor, I don’t have anything here that I need to bring, it’s all in the trunk already.”

“Very well, then let’s get on with it.”

And with that, the unlikely duo apparated away with a pop, leaving Privet Drive and all its inhabitants behind for good.

Chapter Text

Landing quite steadily next to Snape’s grim looking figure, Harry looked up to see they had arrived at Knockturn Alley in one of the smaller and grimier pathways.

It was luckily deserted but Harry could guess why they had appeared here; his appearance still was one that got recognized many places and that wasn’t what they needed right now.

He fished out his wand and cast a quick Notice-Me-Not-Charm on himself - happy about all the magic in Diagon Alley and surrounding being so thick the Trace didn't work - to another raised eyebrow from Snape

“That’s not a 3rd year spell as far as I know Potter” Snape drawled, and Harry just shrugged, he really didn’t have the time to be pretending to not even know simple enough spells, learned over the years, though technically being only a 3rd year.

“There’s no ban on reading ahead on our course material, and well, with my scar and appearance being so well known it seemed like a good charm to know.”

“Hmm” was the answer he got before they silently started walking towards Gringotts, blessedly noticed by no one.

The streets were mostly empty anyway, as today was the day most people started their holiday, tomorrow was when the crowds would really begin.
Walking up the white marble steps, Harry felt a strange sense of… calm.

He was not hated by the Goblin community anymore (destroying their main branch by escaping on a dragon really wasn’t a way to endear oneself to their kind) and before that they had always seemed like mysterious, slightly sinister yet fair creatures. They liked their trickery of word, but Harry had never thought they were cruel beings despite their sometimes harsh ways.

Entering the large double doors, Harry felt the charm fade away under their many spells to keep thieves and such out. It was no matter, today also wasn’t a busy day for the bank, and the few people being serviced inside had other things on their mind than to notice two people seeking the same service.

Snape steered them towards a specific teller to the right and they stopped in front of a goblin with a surprising head full of ginger hair – not the usual case with them as far as Harry had experienced – who looked up and nodded quickly to Snape.

“Master Snape, go right on, he’s expecting you” the Goblin said.

“Thank you Wilnok. Come now Potter” Snape answered and ushered Harry forward to the small path next to the teller box and walked past four doors on the opposite wall, before knocking and then opening the fifth where the name 'Ragnok' was carved into a gold plaque on the door.

Inside was a bigger than expected office and a stern looking goblin (to be honest all goblins looked stern to Harry) sat behind a large mahogany desk.

"Ah Master Snape, Heir Potter, well met" it said promptly, eyes searching their forms with a calculating look.

"Well met Master Ragnok," Snape said, surprising Harry - it was the first time he had heard a wizard speak truly respectfully to a goblin.

"This is Ragnok, he has been the account manager for the Potters for many years, going back as far as to have served Fleamont Potter I believe." He added to Harry, looking profesionally unbothered even though they were discussing Harry's paternal side of the family.

Harry looked at the Goblin who was apparently his account manager – why he hadn’t been introduced to him last time around was something Harry didn’t want to waste time thinking about – and the Goblin in turn looked him over as well, dark eyes seemingly darkening at what he saw.

“Master Snape, there are some personal matters that must be seen to before we proceed, please take a seat in the waiting lounge as this is private.”

Snape stared the goblin down for a while, but he didn’t waver in the least, only staring back silently.

“Very well, I’ll be waiting Potter. Merlin help me but I made sure to have no other plans today.”

Harry only nodded, surprised at the request of the goblin, he was still seen as an underage wizard after all, he would have thought he needed a guardian present at all times, but alas it seemed not.

The door closed after Snape and Ragnok turned in his seat towards Harry.

"Now that that's dealt with, Heir Potter I must inquire you to answer some questions under a Blood Oath. No outside magic will be able to influence your answers and it is most important that the forseeable endeavors be entirely yours to want"

Blood Oath. Harry had hear about those, especially after the war where weeding out the individuals who had been imperveroused or otherwise forced against their will was at its height.

The goblin had taken out a small intricate dagger, pure silver it looked like, and held it over a small goblet filled with silverish water.

He held his hand out, palm upwards and Ragnok looked (if such could be discerned on the almost expressionless goblin) pleased with his willingness to proceed without further explanations.

"Do what you must, magic is always fair, so I trust in this to be so as well" Harry said and felt a warm glow in his chest, as if his magic was happy at the exclamation.

Without further ado, Ragnok dragged the sharp knife lightly across his palm, making a fine line of red instantly appear, and droplets of blood soon trickled into the goblet, making the contents swirl around, before the wound instantly closed up, leaving only the faintest silver line behind on his skin.

Then the Goblin did the same to his own hand - very much surprising Harry - and put the dagger down, black eyes taking in Harry's surprise as his blood trickled into the goblet as well.

"I trust you know the words to finish an oath?" Ragnok asked and Harry nodded.

"Magic, I call on you to bear witness and help guide, that all that is spoken between the oath participants today, be true and nothing but true, that any interference from other sources be severed so that truth can prevail, and nothing able to prevent it until this Goblet of Oaths be emptied. So mote it be"

"So mote it be!" Harry quickly followed along and the pressure in the air changed, a faint breeze blowing through the room as the liquid in the goblet swirled one last time and then became still as silver bled into crimson.

"Very well Heir Potter, until magic drains the goblet, we are free of interference and may speak only the truth. I will add, as you might have caught on to, that it is not customary for an account manager to partake in the oath. However... I have, failed you, as a customer, as a member of the House of Potter who trusted us to carry out their business. And so it is done as an apology, to prove sincerity in wishing to go forward"

Harry blinked, and blinked again, observing the proud creature in front of him, who, against all odds, had admitted to a fault and now sought to remedy it. Well he could work with that.

"Is there something specific I need to do now?" He asked and the Goblin shook his head.

"No, you may ask any questions you like and I will answer if possible, otherwise there is a series of questions for you to answer, first of which is; are you here of your own free will?"

That was the first question? How strange he thought.

"Yes, I came to professor Snape of my own volition as I needed help, and he in turn set up a meeting here."

"And this help you speak of, was to seek emancipation by becoming Head of your house, to remove yourself from your current home, as it is not suitable, meaning of an abusive origin, yes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Would that abuse be why you bear marks around your neck at this very moment?" The goblin added, almost seething as it pointed a crooked finger at him.

"...yes, that would be a souvenir from my uncle."

"I see, as lying is not possible it means we can proceed with the task you came here for today. You may call in Master Snape if you so wish, but you are also free to proceed alone, Heir Potter."

Harry thought about it for a moment, he had initially thought Snape needed to be there with him, but if not...

"I would like to proceed alone." Better not give the man too many details about his private matters.

And who would have thought, that there would be so much to go through.

Ragnok had Harry do an inheritance test, as it was a necessary step in the process, which revealed partly what he had already known; that he was Heir to House Potter as well as Black. What he had not seen coming, as he had never gotten around to doing an inheritance test before, was how he was aparrently Heir to House Peverell, an old and Noble house (though not Most Ancient and Noble like the Black and Potter lines) that had long been thought extinct.

Harry wasn’t sure what exactly that was all going to entail in his future, but going on how Ragnok's demeanor changed as he read the results, the surprise, the sudden greed, the amusement, he had to assume one person being the Heir to three different Noble and at least mostly Ancient houses, was a big thing, especially when two of those houses were currently without a Head (technically Sirius was the Head of House Black and Harry was gonna remain a stubborn Heir until Sirius' name was cleared and people would then stop trying to make him Head as well)

He was told that with such a large inheritance, it would take a few weeks to write up a summary of the contents of his vaults and other accounts within Gringotts which suited Harry fine, he was only after the emancipation at the moment anyway.

After that Ragnok told him that having proven his bloodline and legitimacy as Heir, they could go ahead and have magic declare him Head by handing over the Heir-to-Head signet rings which would only be approved by magic if he was legitimate. And seeing as he'd worn his Potter and Black Heir rings after the war, Harry wasn't worried about that part.

The goblin had sent for the needed items to be retrieved and shortly after he conjured three small chests onto his desk.
One was an intricate black marble chest, with shining black metal linings.

One looked to be a form of polished dark wood, with golden hinges and lock.

The last one had seen better days, it was dusty, the light brown wood slightly cracked, and yet Harry noticed that the metal lock he could see under the cobwebs, seemingly still held on to its shine, speaking to a definite quality of the material.

The goblin opened them one after another and turned the chests to face Harry. Inside each of them were two rings, in their individual sets they were almost identical, with one of the two being slightly larger and more intricate than the other.

"Contrary to what you might believe Heir Potter, there is a rule of way in how to wear Heir and Head rings, and in the case of one person bearing more than one, the oldest and noblest house comes first.
In this case, while you are Harry Potter, the House of Black would come first and should be worn on your index finger. We'll start with the Heir rings" the goblin said and Harry only nodded, future-past Ron had spoken of such things on one of the many occasions where Hermione was hounding him to get the process over with, so he knew.

The Black ring was, as its name suggested, made out of nearly black sterling silver, with a large round black marble stone fastened to the middle. Harry put it on his index finger and it immediately shrank in size to fit him, and as it had done so, a sharp wind erupted inside the room, circling the two occupants. It felt cold and calculating as it brushed against him, but it soon settled down and all was still again.

"The Noble House of Black, never one to make it easy, but you have been accepted by both the ring and magic. Let's proceed, this time your thumb"

Next came the House of Potter, and Harry smiled fondly as he took in the intrically woven band, matte gold inlaid with a shining square ruby stone and smaller ruby stones on the sides. Even as he lifted it out of the chest and the ring slid on his finger, it felt warm, comfy, as if he was being welcomed home, and only a breeze strong enough to lightly ruffle his hair appeared.

"Yes indeed an easy acceptance as would be expected of your paternal house. Lastly is your pinky finger"

Last was the unexpected House of Peverell which had been thought extinct and Harry truly wondered why it had suddenly befallen him when no such thing had occurred with his dad or other members of his paternal line. The ring he slowly lifted out of the chest was of a dark silver with an oval amethyst stone. As he put it on, there was once again a sudden wind in the room, but more like a gentle caress this time. The ring felt oddly familiar, and a joyous feeling seemed to be emitting from it.

How peculiar, thought Harry as he observed the new adornments on his fingers. He would have expected it to feel weird, yet it already felt as if he had always worn them.

"Interesting, a very welcoming and easy happening for such a long still house, accepting you immediately. Now, for the last step, simple enough, to complete you becoming Head instead of just Heir. It is very rare for one to be able to put more than one Head ring on at a time, mostly neither ring is present in the signet chest of a house at any one time, but here you are with three houses and six rings, interesting indeed.
Now for the House of Black please pick up the ring"

But Harry couldn't really do that, that ring was for Sirius.

"The emancipation, will it be able to go ahead if I only accept becoming Head of House of Potter and Peverell? As Lady Magic would probably agree, I have a reason for not accepting the House of Black Head position just yet" he tried, and almost, but not quite, squirmed in his seat under the surveying gaze of the goblin.

"Certainly you would still become emancipated and be seen as a wizard of age as long as you are Head of a House." It answered, head tilted as it observed him.

So to counter any questions, Harry quickly reached for the Potter Head ring, hand hesitating for but a moment. This was a step he'd never completed before, yet here he already was, ready to see it through.

He grasped the ring and the room became still, as if time had frozen.

The Heir ring on his thumb disappeared and then reappeared in the chest and the Head ring in his hand suddenly materialized on his finger instead.
A warm glow spread in his chest, warming him all the way down to his fingertips, and he knew, suddenly, that the House of Potter was now his responsibility and his privilege.
He could feel magic, encompassing him, flowing through him, and for just a moment he felt whole. Complete.
Then he felt something stretch, give way, until it snapped, and suddenly he could breathe more clearly, he was free.
Then the glow faded away though something stayed behind.

There was an awareness inside him, which in his mind looked to be lights in the dark, spread over long distances. His to have and protect.
It was places, and if he guessed right, there were atleast a few living beings in some of them.

"I have... properties, or something similar, don't I?" He asked, opening his eyes to a room where time flowed freely again.

"Yes, House Potter owns several properties around the world, have they called out to you?"

"I think so, I feel them, they're like lights and the further away they are the smaller the light"

"Congratulations Master Harry of House Potter, you have now reached the status of a wizard of age, and the responsibility of being a Head of House."

Harry took a deep breath. He had done it. He was actually done with the Dursleys, magic had set him free.

Wanting to get it over with, he gathered himself and reached for the remaining chest.

Again as soon as he grabbed the ring, the one on his pinky disappeared and then reappeared in the chest while the Head ring appeared in its stead.
Time stood still again as that joyous feeling erupted in Harry's magic once more, welcoming him home. There was only one light that called out to him this time but it was strangely familiar.

Peverell... the line of the three brothers from the stories, the familiar feeling... and then suddenly he knew.
He was the owner of the Deathly Hallows and this was connected to them.

He was now Head of House Peverell, an extinct house, because it had been brought back to life by his becoming Master of the very thing it had been created by. Another present from Death.

And then time continued and Harry faced the goblin, now a fully fledged Head of two Houses.

Chapter Text

"What happens now?" He asked, for surely that couldn't be it.

"Nothing much if that is your wish Master Potter-Peverell."

Harry looked at his left hand again, thankful it was the one without a scar, and pondered. He knew why he was Head of Peverell, but it might confuse or baffle most of the people in his world.

"Occulo!" He said on a sudden hunch, speaking to the ring in question. And it listened. Immediately it shimmered, as if changing form, and instinctively Harry knew no one would be able to see it unless he willed it. He looked up at the Goblin who had raised an eyebrow in surprise, but who still looked incredible smug or satisfied about something.

"I see, no desire to show the outside world everything about your personal matters, very cunning of you Master Potter, and fear not, what we have spoken about today and the heritage you have discovered cannot be repeated, unless you wish it to, my lips will be sealed."

Harry glanced at the goblet with its crimson contents, how very useful.

"I think for now, I prefer being just Potter, maybe Potter-Black soon, but Peverell is just for me and you to know, that is my wish."

The goblin only nodded, and Harry thanked Merlin that magic was helping him in this instance. Since he trusted magic, he would trust in the goblin's words as well.

He was just thinking whether or not he should end the meeting for that day, lest he surpass whatever patience Snape had scrounged up, and it seemed Ragnok guessed so, for he looked thoughtful, folding his hands in front of him, and if Harry wasn’t mistaken, his gaze had become focused on his neck.

“Master Potter, before you move to end The Oath, may I inquire into something?” the goblin asked, surprisingly gentle for his kind.

Having a slight idea as to what the goblin wanted to inquire into, Harry saw no issue with acquiescing, it most likely couldn’t hurt him anyway.

“You may Master Ragnok.”

“I am aware you are a Head of two Houses now Master Potter, and as such I mean no affront, but you are also still very young… normally we goblins stay far away from the affairs of wizards, but very rarely are the youngin of your kind all on their own with circumstances like yours. You should have been guided, protected. But it is evident that has not been the case. So, I would humbly like to ask if you would agree to seeing one of our healers? It would be more discreet than seeking out a fellow wizard, and might I add, I would deem a goblin healer to be superior to a wizard healer any day; we have put a lot less restrictions on what is allowed in aiding a patient than you wizards have.”

So he had been right after all. Well mostly; he hadn’t quite guessed the degree to which the goblin seemed to care.

A healer… he had never seen one, apart from Madam Pomfrey, and only because he hadn’t really had a choice when it came to her.

Even after the war, maybe especially after the war. His mind had been an open book to be violated by several wizards, he had been tortured and hunted and he just, he didn’t have that kind of trust left. He had the people he had grown up with, that he cared for and loved, and he trusted them, but besides them, he couldn’t.

So, he had denied all visits to a healer, to Ron’s despair, and surprisingly, Hermione’s harrowing understanding; she too had struggled with seeing a healer, letting a stranger so close was something that had been taken from her too.

But now… they were under a Blood Oath, so the goblin couldn’t be lying, and Harry knew that healers usually truly wished to help others, and it wasn’t as if his body couldn’t use it; it had years and years of abuse stacked upon it, and if anything at all were to be corrected, then it probably should be while he was still growing.

He wanted things to be different, to be better, and through his loved ones, he had learned that that included himself as well.

“What… what would it entail?” he asked in the end. Voice more timid than he liked, but at least he was trying.

“First would be a diagnostic spell – completely pain free – and depending on the results of that, I believe a treatment plan would be made,” it looked him up and down as it said this, gaze sad “It would most likely include many potions to be taken everyday at mealtimes for a considerable time period. There might also be a need for some more direct action, if there are hurts your body would need spells to be able to heal.”

He took a deep breath, pushing down his discomfort. In for a penny, in for a pound!

“Okay, I’ll do it, but I can call it off anytime I want, and, in such case, there will be no resistance from your side, agreed?” he said, voice firm. He mattered, he did, so it was okay to heal himself, maybe if he told himself enough times he would start to believe it.

“Of course, Master Potter, if you will, considering what today was about, I have a healer here already, I could call her to get the first diagnostical step out of the way. Naturally she too will swear an Oath as is the norm when a goblin healer treats a patient who is technically still underage” the goblins reply was swift and frank, and Harry felt a bit odd – it was as if he had taken great measures to prepare. To help him. He didn’t believe Ragnok or goblins in general were benevolent, but he was also aware of just how little he knew of their kind, so who was to say if this behavior was the norm or not.

He didn’t like it, but he knew he would keep pushing it back if he didn’t get it over with.

“We can go ahead and do it now.”

If possible, the goblin looked happy at that as he snapped his fingers, sparks flying from the movement and shortly after there was a knock on the door.

In came the first female goblin Harry had ever seen, and honestly, he didn’t see much of a difference in the two genders, she had long brown hair that fell in a braid down her back, and her features was a bit sharper than with Ragnok, but other than that they looked very similar.

“Greetings Master Ragnok, Master Potter, my name is Elri.” she said and looked at them, by far with the kindest look Harry had seen from a goblin yet. She zeroed in on him and her gaze darkened as she caught sight of him – by now he had figured out that his uncle must have managed to leave bruises around his neck, and it was very visible to others.

“Greetings Healer Elri. Master Potter this is my partner, an outstanding healer in the goblin world and someone I trust fully to take on your case.”

The two goblins looked at him, one kind, one expectant.

“Greetings Healer Elri” Harry began and then fell silent, unsure of how to proceed.

Again, it seemed his emotions were easy to read as the healer Elri smiled gently and stepped forward. “Before we proceed, I will swear my oath so that you may be at ease Master Potter.”

With that she walked determinedly to Ragnoks desk and easily picked up the dagger still displayed and let her own blood trickle into the goblet.

“Magic, I call on you to bind me to this Goblet of Oaths, to ensure that what I speak be nothing but the truth, and my tongue be tied to keep the contents discussed today a secret as long as Master Harry Potter wishes it to. So mote it be.”

Magic swirled through the room, Harry’s own chest warming at the act before she turned back to them.

“Now, shall we get started?” she asked brightly.

As Ragnok had said, the diagnostical spell she cast on him only felt like a slight chill and light tickle, and a few minutes later a scroll appeared on Ragnoks desk. The goblin healer had grabbed it, looked over the contents and promptly spat on the floor in disgust, anger overtaking her otherwise gentle expression.

Well, Harry could guess what it said, he had lived it after all.

He was a little unsure what to say about the scars he couldn’t explain, if they even had a reason on the scroll, Death had assured him that their meeting couldn’t be taken from his mind no matter what, so at least he felt safe in that regard. He doubted a being could be more trustworthy than Death, it had no reason to lie, it was something inevitable, so what use were empty words.

“If I may ask… I know today was about you inheriting your title, was it a success? Are you free of the vile beings that did this to you?” she asked, quietly but with a simmering anger just under the surface.

“Don’t worry Healer Elri, I am now the Head of House Potter – and Heir to the House of Black for that matter – and I will never go back to my muggle relatives. I am curious though, how much does the scroll say?”

The kind healer looked utterly relieved as she took a deep breath and cleared her throat, Ragnok a silent support at her side as he sat stoically at his desk.

She glanced to the side, at Ragnok, mouth a thin line, gaze hard.

“Oh right, I don’t mind Ragnok knowing what it says, he is aware they abused me anyway” Harry quickly added, guessing the healer couldn’t speak up without permission.

"It's a good thing you came to us now, while you're still so young. I can see you have a lot of bones broken over time, some, if not many, several times at that. Your magic has clearly done whatever it could, but I see at least half a dozen that needs resetting. You have scars, especially on your back, most from what I surmise must have been whippings. We can help them be less severe, hopefully barely visible but because they're old and plentiful I can't make them go away, I'm sorry Master Potter.

Then there's the malnourishment, I've hardly seen so thorough a case, with such an early beginning. They never fed you right, did they?"

It was a question, but he didn't need to answer, she already knew. He swallowed the bile in his throat, fists clenched and simply stared at the healer goblin, waiting for her to finish.

"It will take a lot of work, and time, but I believe I can undo most of what they have done. A year or two later and your growth would have been stunted permanently, but no, not on my watch. You will grow, and you will heal, Master Potter, this I promise you!"

His aunts screeching taunts.

His uncle’s heavy blows.

Madam Pomfrey never more than glancing at his injuries and ignoring all he was too young to hide and which she yet didn't see.

Dumbledore denying him the separation from the house that inflicted so much pain on him.

His schoolmates shunning him whenever they pleased, never listening to his words.

 Death Eaters on his tail, fury in their eyes.

Snatchers in the woods, greed and hurt in their wake.

Voldemort, in his head and all around him, enveloping him in an un-gentle embrace.

He remembered, and he didn't trust. He didn’t.

But he could choose to act differently anyway.

"I will be in your care then Healer Elri but mark my words; when it comes to trust, I do not have it left in me to give second chances. I hope you can understand this."

The goblin in question had a sad look to her, but her face was grave and determined as she nodded.

"I understand"

SNAP!

Jumping slightly, hand instinctively going to his wand, Harry and Healer Elri both looked to the side where Ragnok sat.

Crumpled quill clasped in his white knuckled hand. His fingers still shook as he cleared his throat and flicked his wrist, the broken pieces of the quill merging back together.

"Forgive me I seem to have let my emotions get the better of me for a moment. It is indeed rare that we see a youngin’ having suffered this much abuse, it is simply not done! But that is in our world, we know wizarding society differs plenty from ours, even if we swear upon the same magic. And if you had any doubts, I swear I will never speak of what I learned today, the Oath will make sure of that Master Potter."

Harry was grateful for the words, he had wondered after all, and he really didn't want the details of his abuse to become well known. It was enough that a few adults and Ron and Hermione knew it had happened at all. He preferred if only the three of them in the room truly ever knew the extent.

It was also evident that the scroll hadn't contained information about his other scars. He was sure Healer Elri would see them at some point, but he didn't have to give a detailed explanation of them, and assumptions would do the rest.

"I'd like to start you up on a regimen of potions right away, for nourishment and growth as well as some poultices for your scars, it will lessen them as I said, would that be amenable to you Master Potter?"

"Sure, let's go ahead, we could set up a payment plan so the money is directly withdrawn from my vault?"

Ragnok nodded at that, "With your consent, it is done."

Shortly after Healer Elri had put together what seemed an ungodly amount of potions and poultices, to last him half a month, at which point he would return to have the necessary bones reset - it wouldn't be a pleasant experience she said, but they would manage the pain with a potion - and he could restock the needed remedies at that point.

With that it seemed the meeting was finally over, and Harry let out a breath of relief - it hadn't been too many things they had gone over, but he was exhausted, and frankly still dizzy at the prospect of his now Dursley free future, not to mention how discussing his injuries and their origin took a mental toll on him.

The goblet shook slightly as they all gathered around the desk, and the swirling contents inside vanished in a flash and Harry felt a gentle constriction lift, freeing them from the oath.

He bid a quick goodbye, potions and poultices stacked way in a small pouch Healer Elri had given him and affirming their next meeting once again, he then closed the heavy door to the office behind him, gathering himself enough to search out Snape. He could only hope the man in question wouldn’t be too upset about the wait, and otherwise he was used to the man’s dislike so it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

He found the sour faced man in a small waiting room just down the hall, and surprisingly it seemed the grumpy professor was mostly indifferent, silently looking Harry up and down.

“Finished, are we?” he drawled, and Harry had to suppress a small smile; it really was easy to know what to expect from the other man.

“Yes, I’m now the Head of House Potter, and free from the shackles put upon me. Thank you, professor! You said you would help, but you were the first to do so, so I doubted it. But it’s true and I am grateful that you cared enough for my mother to help me too.” It was maybe pushing the man a little, but Harry felt optimistic and oddly confident, so he let it be.

Except for a tired sigh, the man ignored the little nudge and stood up instead, standing in front of Harry with a contemplating look.

“So, do you know what you’re going to do now?” Snape asked, slightly hesitatingly, but Harry only smirked.

There was a place he really wanted to go, and despite what it might be lacking it would be completely Dursley free and safe for him to live.

“Yes, I have an idea of where I want to go!”

Chapter Text

Knowing where he wanted to go, and getting there, were two different matters all together though. Harry was free of the Trace and he knew apparition, the only thing was, he wasn't supposed to know how to do that yet.

"So, where will you go, Master Potter?"

Ignoring how Snape was now calling him master, Harry decided to be blunt, as anything else would probably seem suspicious to the master spy. 

"As I said, I have an idea, but I would rather not give up the whereabouts to anyone. It's a safe place," relatively anyway "so I would prefer if we could part ways here Master Snape."

Calling Snape, master, was weird, but Harry was quickly catching on to how it seemed the proper way to address someone as an equal. The man in question, didn't look too pleased at that, but displeasure seemed to be his default expression, so Harry didn't take it to heart.

"And you are certain of your safety?"

Again, Harry almost hated that word coming from a person who had cared so very little for his life before, but as the potions master seemed almost ... acquiescent towards him now, he kept that thought to himself.

"I am, I will not be found there."

Seemingly not quite satisfied, but showing restraint, the man accepted his answer and nodded slowly.

"I guess this is goodbye then, congratulations on becoming a Lord, Master Potter, you can, if you absolutely must, owl me, otherwise see you next term."

"Thank you, professor, for everything, see you next term."

With that the older man resumed his signature sneer, turned on the spot, and apparated away.

Harry looked at his belongings, and almost hesitatingly pulled out his wand, looked around - but the stairs to Gringotts were still mostly deserted - and cast the Feather-light charm on his trunk and empty cage, levitating them behind him as he walked to a dark corner - he wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible.

He stopped just next to an alleyway, shadows surrounding and hiding him, and took a deep breath, pushing his glasses back up his nose, and closed his eyes, imagining where he wanted to go as he turned on the spot and disappeared from Diagon Alley.

He landed unsteadily on a sidewalk but quickly righted himself, looking around to see the area empty he still put his items down on the ground - no need to tempt the Fates with muggles catching sight of a levitating trunk.

Harry looked straight ahead, and smiled as the house came into view - evidently, he had been right about his assumption that the place would still be available to him. 

Grimmauld Place looked even worse than he remembered, but then again, at this time there was no one to do the upkeep and Kreacher definitely wasn't in a condition where he could manage the home.

Walking up the stairs, foregoing knocking all together and casting Alohomora, Harry entered the only place, apart from Hogwarts, that had ever felt just a little like home.

The entrance hall was dark and dusty, and he took special care to remain quiet as to not awake Sirius' mom's portrait. He pulled out his wand and cast a detection charm to be sure no traps were lying in wait for him. Couldn't be sure what the last inhabitants of this place had left behind.

Nothing came up though, and still slightly suspicious, Harry walked forward, pushing open the door to the empty kitchen. He put down his stuff and waited. He could feel it, from the moment he entered the door, Kreacher was close by and there was something, the beginning of the bond they had created before, pulling them together even now.

"I am Heir Harry Potter-Black," he said to the empty room, knowing someone was listening. "And you know it too, from the rings on my fingers, to the connection you must feel. I belong here."

With a pop Kreacher appeared in the kitchen, much dirtier and unhealthier looking than Harry remembered, bulbous eyes showing off the mind within, well on its way to crazy.

"There is a strange looking wizard present, shabby looking, he should not be able to come here, yet the wards let him in. Kreacher thinks Mistress will have a lot to say about this!" the harrowed creature whisper-talked to himself.

"You have done well Kreacher, alone for so many years, but Walburga Black is gone, and the Heir to this house stands before you now, so heed my words!"

The elf's ears flopped backwards as he eyed Harry suspiciously, but he stayed, silent and observing.

There was going to be a lot of work to do, but he thought it best to get the bond out of the way so the elf could start to heal.

"I am your master Kreacher, but as I think you can feel, I know the truth, and I am willing to accept you in the old way, the true way, if you so wish."

The elf looked shocked, unsure, and still very suspicious, but it took a step forward. "Kreacher senses something, a bond as if it has already been, but it can't..." it muttered slowly.

"It can, and as the Heir of the Noble House of Black and the Head of House Potter, I implore you Kreacher of House Black, would you accept me as your master and seal the bond between us in the way it should be?"

"The wizard is... asking Kreacher? Like an equal even though he is far above a lowly elf like Kreacher?" 

"I am Kreacher, I would be your Master but in the old way, you would not be a slave, it would be your choice and we would be equals."

The old elf looked at Harry for a while, eyes big and unbelieving, crooked hands trembling, before it promptly burst into tears.

"Kreacher has never... to be treated fairly... only Young Master Regulus was ever kind to Kreacher... but now, this strange wizard is here! Mistress wouldn't like it, but Kreacher sees, he is home!"

The elf sobbed on, muttering away, but managed to squeeze out its sincere acceptance, helped along by the bond Harry could tell was now firmly between them. His magic already rushing to the elf, embracing the scraggy looking form, and giving freely what had so long been withheld from the creature. 

He wondered at just how much Kreacher had wanted a fair master, to receive even the smallest bit of kindness for him to accept Harry so quickly, before he shook his head, he couldn't change all the lonely years the elf had spent in this house, but he could make sure he knew what it meant to be treated fairly, to not be a slave.

With an impressive sniffle, the elf looked up at Harry with still glistening eyes and gave him a once-over.

"Master is hungry after a long day, sit down sit down," the elf said happily, snapping his fingers and pulling out the chair at the end of the kitchen table, "Kreacher will prepare food in a jiffy!"

In seconds the table cleared itself, and the elf conjured a tablecloth and prepared a table setting.

Except when Harry looked up, he saw that the elf had set the table for two, which was strange, seeing as even the Kreacher from before had struggled with that concept and needed persuading.

He knew Kreacher well enough to know he hadn't set the table for himself as well, but, that would mean... He realized his mistake seconds before the kitchen door was pushed open. He had checked the house for traps yes, but he hadn't cast Homenum Revelio to check if anyone was present.

He jumped to his feet, wand in his hand, as the heavy door thumped against the wall, revealing a figure also with their wand pointed straight at Harry.

Harry gasped, abruptly cutting off the curse he had been about to cast and blinked owlishly at the stranger, who wasn't actually a stranger at all.

"Harry?" Came the shocked question.

"Sirius!" He yelled excitedly and stuffed his wand back into his pocket, before running and throwing his arms around the still frozen man, whom immediately returned the embrace.

"How? How are you here Harry? This place is Unplottable! I thought you had to return to those horrible muggles? Are you okay? What's going on?" The bewildered man asked, drawing back so he could see his godsons face.

Harry just beamed at Sirius, momentarily ignoring how the man shouldn't have been here according to the future he knew of, but focusing instead on how happy he was to see his godfather again.

"Well it's kinda a long story, and I'll tell you all about it, but I guess uhm, I got myself emancipated and now I'm Lord Potter and the Heir to the House of Black, hmm, yeah that's about it! And don't think I haven't got questions for you too, I thought you had to go into hiding?"

Sirius gaped at him, blinking slowly and opened his mouth as if to say something, but they were interrupted by a cheery voice.

"Dinner is served Master Harry! And... Master Sirius has arrived as well, Kreacher guesses it was unavoidable, hmfr" the happy elf started out light, but at the sight of Sirius standing by Harry's side, it quickly grumbled and retreated back into itself which saddened Harry.

He looked up at his godfather, whose joyous, if surprised, expression had turned into a cold mask, glaring at the elf as if its very existence was a blemish, and really, Harry couldn't have that.

But he also knew that the history between the two couldn't just be ignored, Kreacher was a symbol of all the horrors Sirius had grown up with, and Kreacher in turn knew only of being treated badly from someone he was sworn to serve.

"Thank you so much Kreacher! Now Sirius why don't we sit down and talk over dinner? I'm hungry after a long day!" He hurried to say, hearing the elf pop away before Sirius could get a word out, and sighing inwardly in relief.

His godfather looked long and hard at him, his fingers lightly brushing over Harry's neck with murder in his eyes - Harry silently cursed, he hadn't yet healed the bruises, but then again, he hadn't expected to meet anyone here - before he sighed with a nod.

"Yes, foods sounds good, you really are much too thin Harry, but I expect to hear the full story." The older man said with a look that let Harry know that included the story of the bruises. Which, he was prepared to do, but it meant he would have to tell of how his "relatives" had always treated him.

"You’re one to talk Sirius, you're barely more than skin and bones, you need some serious fattening up!" He said instead and walked to the end of the table. He was right too, Azkaban and the almost entire year he had spent on the run had taken a toll on the man and not even Harry - who had plenty of bones poking out - had often been that thin, except for maybe during the Horcrux hunt and the year before he first attended Hogwarts.

The older man scoffed at the words as he sat down next to Harry, “Maybe so, and I’m not denying it, but I’m the adult here, your godfather, it’s my job to take care of you Harry.”

He couldn’t help but smile sadly at those words, it was what he had always wanted to hear, and it felt strange, to receive them from someone he technically shouldn’t have that strong of a connection to yet. But he loved Sirius, he was the only family Harry had ever got to know. And he might as well say so.

“Technically I’m a Lord now,” he said and held up his hand, showing off the rings, “So I’m responsible for myself, but, I would like it if I could stay with you, I’ve never had an adult be invested in my well-being as their first priority, and you’re the only family I’ve got left, I would really like to get to know you!”

“Of course you can stay with me! This place, old and ugly as it is, is as much yours as it is mine, you’re my Heir after all, but even if you weren’t, any home of mine is yours too, you’re my godson! Your well-being will always come first, which is one of the reasons why we need to get some meat on your bones, you’re much too skinny my boy.”

Against his will he flinched at those words, and Sirius, a rebellious troublemaker and professional prankster, had always been highly observant, and his whole demeanor changed as he saw it.

Best to get it over with he thought with a sigh, and began telling his godfather of the Dursleys, how they mis-treated him, how he had finally decided enough was enough and taken measures to be free of them. It was an interesting expression that passed over the man’s face, when he told of how Snape had been the one to listen and help him out, but he shook it off and stayed silent until Harry was finished.

“And so I apparated away-“ he nearly bit his own tongue as he said the last words, cursing himself.

His godfather raised an eyebrow, “You, apparated?” he said slowly.

At Harry’s frozen state, the man simply sighed, before moving on, for now.

“So, the Goblin’s huh? I’m glad to hear they’ve taken it upon themselves to help with your health, very unusual I might add, but more importantly, could you tell me the address of those muggles? I would really like to pay them a visit!” he said, face a cold mask, with an even colder smile, his eyes burning a hole into Harry’s soul.

Harry broke into a grin, which surprised the other man enough for the cold mask to falter.

“You want to pay them back for all they’ve done to me, it feels so strange to have someone care enough to want to do that! I won’t tell you where they live though, I’m happier never having to see or hear about them again. I won’t stop you if you were to search them out yourself though, they’re horrid people and I won’t actively protect them, they don’t deserve that from me.” He said darkly, almost surprised at his own words, they weren’t very Savior like, but then again, he had survived a war, and come back from the dead, the world was a little less black and white to him now, and more filled with shades of grey. He could be like a Slytherin too, and maybe he didn’t forgive, he certainly didn’t forget, they had made his life hell, he owed them nothing.

He blinked at the almost wolfish grin that spread on the other man’s face, clearly Sirius had no issue with his standpoint, and it was also clear he had no intention of letting the Dursleys get away with simply being left alone.

“Very well.” Was all the still grinning man said in response.

And Harry, he found that he didn’t particularly care one way or the other. He believed they would get what they deserved, with or without his involvement.

Only then did Harry look at the small feast prepared, and smiled, “Kreacher sure did throw something together quick, this looks delicious.” He said, knowing the elf would hear it, but also to let his godfather know that it was a thing to appreciate.

The man said nothing, frown in place, but didn’t hold himself back when filling up his plate.

While they ate Sirius told of how he had considered going abroad to hide, but had been unwilling to leave Harry for that long, so he had gone “home”,  if it could be called that, as he knew Grimmauld Place was hidden for anyone not a part of the Black family. Kreacher was a downside, but he could not send the elf away as it might reveal his whereabouts, so they were stuck with each other.

“It’s not Kreacher’s fault Sirius. He’s sworn to serve the Blacks, he’s never had a choice in what he did, if anyone it was your parents who are to blame – as you know I am very familiar with horrible relatives – and not a house elf living like a slave, please treat him better than that, he deserves so much better, and if you were less horrid towards him, he would serve you faithfully as well!”

Sirius stilled, looking at Harry with a pained expression, and Harry caught echoes of memories as they flashed through the man’s mind, horrible memories of punishments, beatings, lectures and threats. He looked away before he saw too much, clenching his fists. They really had very similar childhoods.

“You speak of the little menace as if you care for him, or know him?”

“I don’t know him, but I do care, and as the Black Heir, I can sense him too, my magic is already surrounding him as it should, and fulfilling him in the way he has always been deprived of.”

“What do you mean deprived of? That thing already has more than he deserves!”

“Sirius!” Harry yelled, saddened, and the man in question shrugged, but looked at least a little sorry.

“I don’t know why my magic just knew, but there’s so much you don’t know Sirius, please listen to me.” He said in the end, determined to let the man know the truth.

He took it better than Ron and Hermione had, back then. Less nauseous and more considering, possibly because of his upbringing he seemed reluctant to believe, but it was Harry telling him, and if he tried, he might feel something along what his godson was describing.

“It’s okay if it takes time Sirius, I’m enough as the official Heir to sustain him, but promise me you will be kinder. Promise me you’ll try!”

And what could Sirius do but agree to such a sincere plea.

As if on cue, Kreacher popped back in, smiling at Harry while he ignored Sirius – which was actually an improvement over muttering insults under his breath – it seemed the elf had been listening and understood he had to try too. Just a few hours of being under the influence of a proper bond had aided the elf, his eyes were clear, and he moved more smoothly compared to the slow shuffle Harry remembered from before.

With a sweep of his hand, the elf disappeared the empty dishes and found it in himself to ask both his master’s if they needed anything else, to which they said no thanks – well Harry said thanks, while Sirius mumbled out a simple ‘no’ with less heat than he probably would have earlier – after which the elf popped away again, also seeming overwhelmed with all the sudden socializing.

Having gotten that out of the way, and frankly about to implode with his need to confirm something, Harry decided to take a chance. He had a suspicion, and he wouldn’t really have anything to lose by trying to confirm it.

He let the glamour on his hand fall away, setting it down on the table, in view of Sirius and continued talking about how Ron had invited him to the Quidditch World Cup, and how he was excited to go – if he had an ulterior motive by going, then so what – and how he was so glad the Dursley’s weren’t going to be a problem any longer.

It was obvious when the other man noticed. He had glanced at Harry’s hand, before meeting his eyes again when suddenly he froze and stared back down at the hand before him.

He paled first, before his face darkened and then twisted into confusion, though the anger still simmered under the surface.

“What’s that?” he spat out and pointed to Harry’s hand.

Harry held up his hand, a questioning look on his face, “This? Why do you ask, it’s just a scar, I really have plenty of those to be honest.”

Sirius only frowned, gaze hard. “No that’s not just a scar! ‘I must not tell lies’, that’s foul blood magic, given to you by the even fouler Dolores Umbridge, but…”

Harry shot to his feet, chair rattling to the floor behind him as he stared wide eyed at Sirius, he had been suspicious as to why his godfather was ever so slightly acting differently from last time around, but he hadn’t dared hope.

Sirius wasn’t supposed to know that, couldn’t know that, except…

“You know? You remember??”

Sirius shot up too, face deathly pale. “What do you mean, ‘do I remember’? That’s not supposed to be on you yet, it wasn’t supposed to ever get to happen this time!”

Harry felt faint, leaning heavily on the table. Sirius remembered!

Not really knowing where to begin, he settled on something they would both understand.

“The Veil” he whispered.

Sirius flinched, before he looked utterly heartbroken, “No that’s not possible, you weren’t hit, only I was hit, and then, and then I must have come back around for some bizarre reason, but you couldn’t possibly…!”

Harry shook his head, still in disbelief, “I didn’t get hit, I survived that night Sirius, but years later, after everything was over, I thought I heard you calling for me, and before I realized what I had done, I had entered The Veil, and… and when I came to, I was back to when the dementors attacked us, we both nearly died that night, so maybe The Veil spat us out? I don’t know, but I’m guessing, since my soul remained the same, these scars that could not otherwise be healed,” he held up his hand and watched as the still pale man read the words carved into his flesh again “Came back with me.”

“That’s – that’s crazy, but then again, I guess our lives has always been crazy. You really think we both were sent back despite entering The Veil at different times?” the thin man whispered, swaying unsteadily on his feet – not that Harry was faring much better, he was not alone kept flashing through his mind.

“What else could it have been? Not much is really known about it, why couldn’t it have sent us back? Maybe we’re needed here now to change things!”

The other man finally sat down heavily, eyes still latched on to Harry’s hand, deep in thought.

“When you said, ‘years later, when everything was over’, what do you mean pup?” he asked quietly, looking positively haunted by the possibilities of the statement.

Harry picked up his chair, dragging it closer to his godfather until he could take one of his trembling hands in his own.

“Kreacher, could you bring us some tea? If possible with some calming draught added to help us” he asked into the air and felt a confirming nudge from the bond. He waited until Kreacher popped back in and served the mentioned beverages with a snap of his fingers, before he took a deep breath.

“I have a lot to tell you, as you also evidently retain your memories up until falling through The Veil, you’ll know the same goes for me. But I have years of knowledge that you do not, please settle in.”

It was a long talk, and his godfather did his best, but he had several outburst along the way, raging and shouting at the ghosts of their future-past, summoning a bottle of fire whiskey about halfway through, and offering Harry a glass after deliberating it for a while (he declined, not thinking it would be helpful to his young body, even if his mind was older), a few times Sirius’ magic lashed out and ravaged the kitchen, though every time Harry silently put it back in order, letting his last relative unleash what he needed to, while trying to deal with all the new information.

Two times though, his godfather broke down. First, when Harry told him of Remus’ death. He downed two glasses of fire whiskey in short succession, tears trickling down his gaunt cheeks as he grasped Harry’s hand tightly, unable to form words at the grief that overwhelmed him at the news of his oldest friend’s death.

Second, when Harry told of his own revelation about being a Horcrux and going to meet Voldemort, embracing his imminent demise. He simply interrupted the long tale by abruptly pulling Harry into his arms, trembling and squeezing him as if he feared he would disappear if he let go. Harry hugged him back and halted the story until his godfather had gathered himself.

He told him of how they won, but also of how much they paid for the victory in return.

All up until the Gala, and his feeling drawn to The Veil and mistakenly going through when he thought he saw Sirius inside (he left out the part where a voice had spoken to him, as that had to do with Death) and waking up and realizing how he had a second chance to do better.

Speaking of Death, Harry was sure it was one of the gifts it had spoken about, his godfather remembering everything up until he too had met his end inside the not-quite-doorway. And he was so grateful, he actually had someone he could discuss the future with, someone who could help him in his endeavor to change things.

It was late evening before he eventually reached the end and had answered whatever questions his godfather had had along the way.

“You won, against Voldy, I still can’t believe the bastard had made horcruxes, and still you won, I’m so proud of you pup! I’m not happy about what Dumbledore did, leaving you with such a heavy burden, having planned it so you had to die in the end… I will never be okay with that, I hope you know that no such thing will happen this time around!”

Harry just smiled, “Thank you Siri, it took some time for me to see it, but I don’t want to have to die, I’ll fight and give it my all, but I would like a long life, and therefore I won’t follow Dumbledore in the same way this time, I have knowledge about a lot of things, so I’m aiming to make sure we won’t experience the same losses this time, and sadly I have the feeling that if it doesn’t fit in under his plans, then he won’t want it. Like your freedom for example, this time it’s on the top of my list to make sure your name is cleared! You will get your trial and you will be a free man if I have anything to say about it!” Harry said determinedly and hated the surprise in the other man’s eyes. He of course remembered his close to imprisonment too, yet he had not expected to get to be free and it just wouldn’t do.

“You deserve to be free Siri, you’ve more than paid for any dues you might feel you owe. Not that you do, you’re just as much of a victim as everyone else who was hurt by Voldem- …Moldypants!” following Sirius’ lead, Harry decided he was done with calling Tom by his made up name. He didn’t deserve that much power.

“Clear my own name… I hadn’t even considered it, but maybe, maybe it should be so, I would be able to be by your side so much easier if I wasn’t a wanted man.” He said to which Harry heartedly agreed.

They spoke a while longer, about easier stuff, but it had been a long and exhausting day, so Harry decided it was time for them to turn in, which he said, with his godfather agreeing.

Sirius was talking about trying for some of the rooms upstairs – he had slept in his old bed the previous nights – but knowing just how long the Weasleys and Hermione had spent cleaning the place and finding cursed objects and the like all around, Harry opted for the living room like he had done many times before, and Sirius chose to join him to his relief. He liked having the people he cared about within sight, it was a side effect from the war, and he thought there was little chance of that certain urge ever going away, but what of it, he felt he was quite justified in his feeling that way.

As he lay on a conjured bed (Kreacher’s doing, as Harry had known to expect it) in the living room of Grimmauld Place, the flames from the fireplace casting shadows across the room, Harry thought of all the times he had lain here before, then, with his friends by his side, now, with Sirius softly snoring away on his own conjured bed.

It was eerily similar, yet not the same, and for just a moment he felt a pang of something in his heart, of the relationships he had once forged and now lost. But then he thought of all the possibilities he had gained too, not to mention for example the very man a few feet away from him, or the fact that Death had granted him the bond between himself and his two friends to be carried over, there was no doubt there, that they after their third year this time, were closer than they had been last time, and as for others, well if anything he now had the knowledge to make his friendships even earlier.

Yes, he had been granted a huge opportunity, and he would grasp it happily.

As he fell asleep, he could have sworn he felt a hand caress his cheek with a cold but gentle touch, wishing him good luck.

Chapter Text

He woke with a scream, panting hard, and felt the cold tendrils of dread running up his spine, panic like an iron grip around his throat, as he fumbled for his glasses, his wand, anything, to chase away the nightmare still flashing vividly through his mind.

“Harry! Harry are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it your scar?” A frazzled Sirius asked as he jumped to his feet, and kneeled next to Harry, who was now crouching next to his bed, wand in hand, eyes glassy, still panting hard.

He looked around wildly for a few more moments before settling on his godfather’s face, confusion clear in his expression.

“Sirius? How?... Oh,” the young boy whispered, as clarity returned to his gaze and he rubbed a trembling hand over his scar, a phantom itch reminding him of years past where it had hurt quite often.

“So it is your scar! You didn’t tell me it started hurting this soon last time?” the older man said bewildered.

Harry sat down with a thud, placing his wand on the small table next to his bed, perfectly within reach, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes – he really needed to get it cut soon – before he shook his head at his godfather. He had given the man as broad of an explanation as possible of the future-past, but some details he just hadn’t thought to mention, like how he pretty much always had nightmares now.

“Sorry Siri, I didn’t mean to wake you up, and no it’s not my scar, it hasn’t hurt since Snake Face killed me, or well since he killed the soul shard residing in me, and since it seems it’s our souls who have come back, my previous connection to him is gone. This was just a regular old nightmare, since the war I’ve had those quite a lot.”

His godfather seemed, not relived per se, but more a little less panicky as he nodded “I see, is it something you want to talk about? It might help?” he offered but Harry only shook his head again with a small smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks, I’ve found that talking about it just makes it worse, but since it’s,” he flicked his wrist and cast a quick Tempus revealing that it was just little past 4am, “Still very late or very early depending on how you look at it, I say we just go back to sleep, you need all the beauty sleep you can get old man.” He said with a smirk and chuckled at the outraged expression on his godfather’s face.

“Old man he says, tsk, I’ll have you know I’m still quite young! And I don’t need beauty sleep, I’m naturally pretty!” the older man – who was still underweight and quite harrowed looking, hiding his more handsome qualities – said with a haughty air, winking at his godson and making him laugh as the last of the tension left his body, which had probably been the man’s intention all along. Not that he was wrong, with a little personal grooming and another 20-30lbs he would still look quite charming with his undoubtedly aristocratic features.

As they settled back in, after a few more reassurances from Harry’s side, he wondered at how his godfather had made him feel calm and steady, he normally wouldn’t even have attempted to go back to sleep, but he somehow felt he would be okay if he did, his nightmares chased away by the bright smile and gentle embrace from Sirius.

*

It was mid-morning when Harry woke again, almost jerking to attention by the realization he had slept peacefully. He looked over towards his godfather’s bed and saw the man in question awake, but determinedly trying to doze off by burrowing under the covers, they both still evidently could use a lot of rest and Harry couldn’t help but to laugh as the somewhat tired man flopped irritably around, unable to go back to sleep.

“No laughing… more sleep” the man grumbled.

“I think your body is trying to tell you it’s time to get up Siri, I can tell Kreacher knows and has just about prepared breakfast for us!” he said, slightly surprised that he could feel it to be true, however that worked.

Coaxing the still grumbling man by promises of a lavish breakfast that the elf surely hadn’t poisoned now that he served at least Harry faithfully and Sirius with less faith and more… reluctant acquiescence, they both trudged to the kitchen.

Emboldened by the fact that the table was decked in its finest despite the otherwise still dreary kitchen – though Harry could have sworn it was less dusty than the day before – Sirius sat down and happily buttered up a scone, with Harry soon following, fishing out the different potions from the extension charmed pouch he had been given by the goblins.

“Thank you Kreacher, it looks delicious!” he said out loud though the elf was nowhere to be seen, knowing he would be listening, nonetheless.

Sirius eyed the four different potions he put on the table, two a brackish brownish color that seemed unpleasantly thick, one a minty green that smelled a little fishy and the last a dark blue that globbed in a way eerily reminiscent of the Polyjuice Potion. They tasted quite horrid, but he took them without complaint knowing they were necessary, though he dreaded the many months, maybe years, they would be needed.

Washing it down with a scone of his own and a glass of juice, Harry cleared his throat and looked at his godfather, “We have to get you seen by a healer as well Siri, probably a goblin healer would be possible as they are not bound by the laws of the ministry in the same way, and wouldn’t have a problem not turning you in, for the right price of course.” He said, smirking at the last words, watching his godfather sigh deeply, but not arguing.

“Well I guess I can’t set a bad example, when my very own godson is trying so hard, I’ll have to at least follow. I already owled an old solicitor a few days ago – goblin of course, they simply do better work in that regard – as I had been thinking along the same lines. I can’t simply be on the sidelines this time, I want to be there for you, for you to rely on, fall back on, and simply someone to come home to. We’ll be a proper family this time, I won’t let anyone, not Voldy or even Dumbledore stand in our way!”

They talked a bit more about the solicitor – an old retainer that had served the Blacks for decades – and what steps would be necessary for it all, while getting through the too large breakfast. Just as they finished, there was a knock against the kitchen window, and Harry jumped up with a smile, quickly running over at the sight of his beloved owl.

“Hedwig!” he exclaimed as he opened the dingy window, “Hello girl, been out hunting all night?” he asked as she hopped up on his arm and chirped in confirmation, nipping at his ear affectionately.

“Good thing you’re here girl, I need to write some quick letters to Ron and Hermione, do you think you could deliver them for me? Here have some bacon while you wait.” He cooed, as he let her hop down on the table, before heading over to his trunk now placed in the living room and fishing out some parchment along with his quill and inkwell.

When he sat back down, the table had been emptied, save for a little plate with a few pieces of bacon for Hedwig and a fresh serving of tea for both him and Sirius, though he noticed with a snort that his cup looked to be some fine china, while his godfathers was some nondescript cup with a chip on the edge. Baby steps he thought, it was progress that the elf had made tea for them without being asked and then served the both of them, even if with a few petty details added.

Speaking of, this time he probably should hire more house elves to aid in the upkeep of a home as big as Grimmauld Place, not to mention the other properties he had an awareness over now, they would need arrangements too, whether selling, occupying or maybe renting out be the solution, just anything but leaving them abandoned to rot. He was a Lord now; he needed to take responsibility and actually do the duties he had never gotten around to last time. Kreacher would need the help, and, Harry thought, the more he hired, the more he could offer a true bond, or freedom if they so wished… now that he thought about it… well why not!

“Dobby! Dobby, can you hear me?”

Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow but said nothing when he saw the determined expression on his godson’s face.

He didn’t know if it would work calling for the elf outside of Hogwarts, but why not try. Instead of Dobby, Kreacher popped in with a curious and somewhat suspicious look on his wrinkled face.

“Master calls for an elf, Kreacher can feel it, an elf that holds a connection to Master, otherwise Kreacher would not be able to follow it, does Master wish to speak with this other elf?”

Surprised that Kreacher could feel something, Harry thought of Dobby as an odd but kind elf, a friend, loyal to a fault even, thinking back to how the elf had selflessly saved them at the cost of his own life during the war.

“I do Kreacher, Dobby is the first house elf I ever met, he’s quite young compared to you, I think he’s one of the youngins who doesn’t know the truth, and I would like him to, for his own sake to at least know that he could thrive under a proper bond even if he currently wishes to be a free elf!”

The suspicion cleared from Kreacher’s eyes and he looked thoughtful instead.

“The elf Dobby might be the first elf Master ever met, but Kreacher is the first one to have settled a bond with Master!”

If Harry didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the elf sounded prideful yes, but also a bit jealous at another elf coming before him.

“You’ll always be the first elf I bonded with Kreacher; nothing can change that.” He added and though still grumbly looking, the elf looked pleased.

“Kreacher will bring this elf Dobby here, just a moment Master!”

And with that the elf popped away, leaving Harry to ponder at the magic of house elves again, it was so overlooked, but quite extraordinary.

He sat back down, putting the forgotten items in his hands down at the table; the letters to his friends would have to wait a little while longer.

His godfather simply rustled the paper he was reading – The Daily Prophet of course – though it seemed to be from the previous day, leaving Harry to do his thing.

Within seconds there was a familiar pop, and before him stood Kreacher with a firm hand around Dobby’s arm, who looked both suspicious but also eager.

“Harry Potter! Oh it is you! Dobby hoped, he thought he heard you, but then this elf showed up instead and said his Master, Harry Potter was looking for Dobby, so Dobby came at once!”

Harry grinned at the young elf, “Welcome Dobby, it’s good to see you, and, oh no,” he exclaimed as Dobby looked behind him and saw Sirius, the look in his eyes changing immediately, as he jumped forward, in front of Harry, as if shielding him with his small body.

“Sirius Black! This is why Harry Potter called for Dobby, he is in danger, Dobby won’t let anything happen to his friend!” he said and snapped his fingers, and suddenly Sirius was restrained by thick ropes covering every inch of his body.

To his credit, apart from a surprised yelp, all he did was send an annoyed glance at the elf, sighing as he looked back at a sheepish Harry. “Dobby, no, please listen, Sirius isn’t a danger to me, he’s my godfather and he was framed, he’s an innocent man and he’s very important to me, please release him!”

Dobby looked surprised, but still hesitated, “Harry Potter is sure? Dobby won’t let anything happen to him, but Dobby is a good elf, he will listen to Harry Potter if he so says the crazy looking man isn’t dangerous!”

“Crazy looking man he says, I’m as sane as can be expected after Azkaban, frankly I’m a marvel!” huffed the still-bound man, though, at Harry’s nod, the younger elf snapped his fingers again and the ropes fell away.

“Thank you, Dobby, I know you meant well, but I didn’t call for you because I was in danger, I called because I have a question for you!”

Frankly Harry didn’t know what to expect, what he had always known of Dobby was that he, unlike most house elves, wanted to be free, but Harry was also fairly sure the elf didn’t know about the truth of his own species. So all he could do was explain and then ask the elf, giving him the choice.

*

“Is Harry Potter serious Sir?!” the elf exclaimed after Harry and Kreacher together had explained what they knew, and what Harry was offering.

“No, I’m Sirius!” his godfather interjected.

“Not now Siri,” Harry said exasperated, before turning back to the elf, tuning out the man’s laughter, “Yes I’m serious Dobby, you’re my friend and I’ll respect your choices, but I wanted you to know, that a true bond could be possible and what it would mean for you!”

Then, as perhaps he should have seen coming, the elf burst into tears.

“H-Harry Potter-” sniff “Would offer-” Sniff “Dobby a-a-a-” SNIFF “Waaaahh-” the elf sobbed, leaving Harry none the wiser as he tried to console the small trembling form.

Kreacher looked if anything annoyed at the spectacle while Sirius simply observed with slight amusement, the more the elf sniffled away.

“Look Dobby, you don’t have to decide right now, I just wanted to let you know about the bond-“

“Never mind the bond Harry Potter Sir, Dobby likes the sound of it, but Dobby likes being a free elf at Hogwarts more, but Harry Potter would offer-would offer Dobby a place beside himself? Dobby, would do anything to be Harry Potters elf, Harry Potter is Dobby’s first and bestest friend!”

Harry had to blink at that, so it wasn’t the bond part, but the fact that he was the one offering that the elf liked. Well, he could work with that.

In the end it was almost a short affair, Dobby handed in his resignation with a glee Harry found slightly concerning, and since it was by magic, it was immediately done and the acceptance of each other could commence and settle the bond.

Dobby wasn’t sickly looking in the way he had been when he was the property of House Malfoy, his time at Hogwarts had done him well in that regard, but even then, as soon as they felt the bond settle over them, the elf in question suddenly looked healthier, livelier somehow (if that was even possible with an elf as bubbly as Dobby) and there was a definite blush to his grey-tannish cheeks.

It was slightly unnerving, but it suited the younger elf.

Kreacher stepped in after that, declaring how he was Harry’s first elf, and therefore would oversee the duties needed to the family. Dobby balked a bit at that, but soon sussed out that he had met Harry first and become his friend first as well, which led to a sort of standoff where the elves screamed at each other over who was more important to their dear Master Harry!

That had Sirius cackling again as Harry stepped between the two small, but nonetheless strong, forms before they could physically fight each other.

“Kreacher! Dobby! Enough now, you’re both elves I’ve bonded with and you’re both important to me, it doesn’t have to be a competition! Now settle down, I’m sure Kreacher has a lot to teach you Dobby, he’s your senior after all, so please try to get along, for me, please.”

And that seemed to do it, they stopped struggling against Harry’s hold on them and instead looked up at him with glistening eyes.

“For Master to ask so sincerely, of course Kreacher will obey! Kreacher lives to serve the noble Black Heir.”

“Harry Potter Sir said please! To a lowly house elf such as Dobby, oh Dobby keeps realizing how great a wizard Sir is, yes he does!”

Considering that matter dealt with as the two elves popped away, seemingly so Kreacher could show Dobby the ropes, Harry sat back down with a sigh, already feeling exhausted and it was only morning! He picked his quill back up and stared at the parchment before him, pondering. It was hard to figure out what to put down, but he had promised his friends an update, and they were surely worrying about him, so he got down to it.

To Ron/Hermione (I’m duplicating the letter, so you’ll both get the same information)

Hey there, sorry for only writing now, it got quite late yesterday, and I’ll tell you all the details later, but to sum up; I told you of how it was at the Dursleys, and I finally realized that I needed help to get away. I was done accepting the fact that I had to stay there.

Back at school I went to the one person I suspected might help, even if it’s confusing seeing how we view him (and don’t worry, there’s no love lost between us, he’s still a right git!) but as I told you, I went to Snape…

He promised to help me, and then he actually did. We hatched out a plan. Yesterday he had flooed or apparated to the Dursleys before I got there, and he took me to Gringotts immediately after I arrived – and good thing too, my uncle was in a foul mood and would have taken it out on me – you see, we had discussed it and the only immediate solution we saw, what with the Headmaster wanting me to stay, was to get myself emancipated in the wizarding world.

Normally that would probably not be so easy, but I guess there’s one perk to being an orphan, I could take over as Head of House Potter right away, being the only possible heir left, which automatically put me at the same standing as a wizard of age. So yeah, I am now free to make my own decisions despite what others or even Dumbledore might want. I never have to go back to Privet Drive. And I’m free of the trace, which is a weird feeling, I can literally do magic whenever I want!

After I finished at the bank, Snape and I separated, and I went to a secure location – I can’t put where into writing, but I’ll show you at some point, I’m free to meet up whenever this summer, so I’m expecting to see a lot more of you both than usual. It’s a safe place though, so don’t worry.

There’s more to tell you but I’d rather do so in person as there’s some things I don’t want to put into writing. I’m sure you have questions so you can owl back whenever, but I might not be able to answer all of it until we meet up.

So, I’m somehow a Lord now, free in a way I never have been, and safe.

I know we only just said goodbye, but I miss you guys, hope you’re doing well, until next time!

Love Harry.

Figuring out what to put in the letter was difficult, Harry didn’t think his mail was being monitored, at this time, but he wasn’t going to take that chance, so he told what he didn’t mind being found out, but the whole thing about his inheritance, meeting Sirius, and again bonding with Kreacher and then Dobby, well that would have to be for later.

He tied the letters to Hedwigs leg and scratched under her chin “I’m giving you a double duty girl, I hope that’s okay, there is a letter for Ron but also Hermione.” He told his owl with the too clever eyes – Harry would have bet his wand she was something magical, there was just too much intelligence in her eyes for her not to be – and he felt a kind of bond with her as well, like they were connected by a rope and he could feel her tugging on it fondly at his request.

She nipped his fingers affectionately, hooted once with a self-important air to it, and took off without hesitation through the open kitchen window.

“You know, I bet she’s your familiar, she is uncommonly attuned to you.” Sirius said off handedly, as if that wasn’t entirely new information to Harry.

“My what now?”

Again Sirius looked surprised, and then murderous, “I keep forgetting you haven’t grown up in this world like you should have, and those damn muggles!” his godfather crumbled the paper he was still holding, seemingly not noticing as the rage took over and he bared his teeth like a dog would have, before catching himself and abruptly shutting down all emotion, face a blank mask.

“A familiar is something many wizards and witches have, some even have several, but it takes up a lot of power, so some say the stronger the wizard, the more familiars they acquire. It’s why Hogwarts allow so many pets, even beyond what’s listed on your school letters – removing a familiar from his or her owner for a long period of time is painful for both parties, and in case of magical children who have the bond, it can even be detrimental to their magical cores and damage their growth,”

“But a familiar bond itself, well it’s more than just a pet, it’s a companion, a magical one, they will live beside you, protect you, and die for you if need be and in turn your magic surrounds them and fulfills them. Take your Hedwig for example, I could see she understood you perfectly, and while owls in our world have at least enough magic in them to know where to go, your owl has surpassed that, she’s gained intelligence to be able to remain beside you,”

“Didn’t you feel it? Like you could understand her just like she could understand you? That your heart lightened when she arrived, and that if you’ve ever been apart for extended periods, it was like a hole inside you that could not be filled! She’s wholly yours and in turn you are wholly hers as well.”

Harry thought about that, he had just been wondering if she wasn’t more magical than he had thought, and everything Sirius had said was true. Well, it seemed he was acquiring bonds left and right.

He scratched his head “Err, well it would seem so?” it wasn’t quite a question, still it came out that way, which only made Sirius smirk.

“Only my godson, having a familiar without even knowing it, ha!”

And what could Harry do but grin sheepishly in return, but oh boy, he still had so much to learn.

*

Becoming a Lord, somehow turned out to be ever so anticlimactic. There was no grand party or world changing realization, it was simply Harry being allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts.

Well or so he assumed, seeing as both he and Sirius had reasons to stay inside (one a wanted criminal, and the other with a mass murdering madman and his sycophants after him) there was little to do but start making the grim place look more habitable.

So they spent hours going from room to room and picking out cursed artifacts, simple artifacts and other knick-knacks, the upside to having two willing house elves with them, meant that they went through all the stuff much faster than what the both of them remembered from the last time, even with all of the Weasleys being there then.

Kreacher or Dobby would use their magic on the items Harry and Sirius pointed out, and banish all the dangerous stuff to – what had to be described as – the dungeons, despite the home being a town house, and all the other stuff was divided into two piles; to keep and to get rid of.

Dobby followed what Sirius or Harry asked with a jubilant expression, happily going along, while Kreacher was more hesitant to part with Black items, though he still did so at Harry’s gentle explanation that anything valuable would be kept, but that many of the things they found were beyond repair and therefore had no place in the home they were building.

The two elves had had another tearful episode at those words, being included in the words that described something as home, and Harry found himself wrangling two armfuls of elf as they hugged him.

Noticing, but not commenting on, how Sirius observed the whole ordeal with a thoughtful expression, Harry found himself optimistic that his godfather could be open to a future where he also had a good relationship with the elves – well maybe amicable with Kreacher – but that was still progress, so it was a good thing.

Several hours later, they were on the fourth room of the first floor – the ground floor was mainly cursed artifact free, so they had let that floor be – when two owls arrived.

It turned out there might be at least a little more to being a Lord.

The owls were from the Ministry and held information on how as the role of Lord had been taken up, the following seat on the Wizengamot was now active and would require a response from the Lord in question, as to whether he would appoint a representative or lead himself. The reason for there being two owls were that both the Potters and the Peverells held seats.

Seeing as Sirius read over his shoulder, Harry found that he had to explain why he was also a Lord of House Peverell – not that he truly could – but he said the inheritance test had revealed he was Heir to the house, and as the seat of Lord was long empty, he succeeded that house as well. His godfather accepted that truth rather quickly, and Harry wondered if the magic that kept his meeting with Death and such secret in his mind, also protected him in this instance and made people not ask too many questions.

It didn’t feel particularly good to keep a secret from his godfather – the one person in the world who knew, and understood the time-travel, but revealing more about the Peverell line was a slippery slope, so he couldn’t do it.

Knowing he mostly wanted to keep it secret that he was a Lord of two houses, he knew he would have to appoint a representative for the Peverell seat, how to go about it was the question though. It would have to include a lot of secrecy, and probably magic oaths to ensure that everything stayed secret.

Goblins, Harry decided, was the way forward. He would have to acquire a solicitor, sworn to secrecy and seek out help that way.

They were seated in the kitchen dining room again, another lavish lunch prepared for them – Harry had offered, but the two elves had declined his offer to sit with them, Kreacher still almost offended, and haughtily refusing, while Dobby seemed more overwhelmed and overly grateful to be considered.

“You know, even if I’m one day not on the run, I was never made to be a Lord, it’s just not for me all that stuff, so as my Heir it would fall to you to also step up and take over the seat for the Blacks as well pup, and imagine that, three seats on the Wizengamot under one person! That’s nearly unheard of, you’re gonna turn it all on it’s head you are!”

Harry stared at his godfather, dumbfounded, “But it’s your place Siri! You’re the last true Black, it should belong to you!” he spluttered, confused at the gentle expression on the other mans face.

“I might be the last Black not married into another family, but I know myself well enough to know what I’m saying is true, I made you my Heir not because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to. I’ve always known that having kids were not for me, you’re the exception to that really, I knew from the first moment James let me hold you, that you were going to be my Heir and inherit everything I owned. You’re my godson Harry, the closest thing to an actual son I will ever have, and so all that comes with this name, is rightfully yours too. And look at you! Already trying to figure out how to go about this, you were meant to lead pup, even if you can’t see it yet.”

Harry stared, and stared, but his godfather simply stared back with a smile – no smirk this time – and he had to duck his head with all the warmth that suddenly flooded his face. The closest thing to a son. Warmth seemed to be enveloping him, and his eyes were traitorously wet as he stared at his clenched hands.

“I-I don’t remember my parents, I love them, but I don’t remember them, a-and, well, you’re the closest thing to family I’ve ever had, what I mean is… thank you Siri, I will do my best not to disappoint you!”

“You could never disappoint me Harry, every day you get back up and face the world, I’m proud of you.”

Knowing his tan skin was the only reason the blush taking over his face wasn’t overly visible, he pushed the plate of buns closer to his godfather as he reached for them, and hid the small, happy smile behind the cover of eating.

They were getting better, and they would continue to do so.

*

It was about a week later when Harry decided he wanted to visit Diagon Alley – he was living rather close by now after all. Him and Sirius had spent the week cleaning up, and they had made it to the attic and was halfway done rummaging through it. There was now a dungeon room full of cursed artifacts, and Harry had suggested they hire Bill Weasley to check it out, he could be trusted and was a known curse breaker so it seemed fitting, and Sirius, thinking back on the man from the order meetings, readily agreed.

Dobby and Kreacher had set to cleaning the rest of the home to the best of their magical ability, and the difference was almost staggering. Gone was the dust and the cracked wallpaper and dirt covering every surface. The house was still rather dark, but that was the way it had been designed by earlier Black generations so it would take some time to change that.

Sirius had decided they needed new wallpaper, and the existing furniture could be transfigured into lighter colors. With mirror grins they had looked at each other and decided the way to go was the gryffindor style they had both been so used to, so now a warm maroon with a fine gold print covered every inch of wall in the living room where they still slept, though they were preparing rooms to move into. Sirius into his old room that still held a lot of gryffindor memorabilia, which suited him fine, and Harry had chosen the same room as he had originally done after the war, dark wooden furniture accentuated by light blue fixtures and bedding. It was his favorite color, so he had decided to surround himself with it.

Ron and Hermione had both answered back, that they were so happy for him, Hermione proud he had chosen to ask a teacher even if it was Snape, while Ron thought him right mad, but grudgingly accepted that if the git had truly helped, then maybe he wasn’t all bad.

Hermione was curious about what being a Lord meant and had already planned a trip to Diagon Alley to get some books to educate herself on the area – where she also mentioned she could grab the necessary books the boys would need if they were to study up on Ancient Runes during the summer. As well as making sure he knew they would help him however they could, and suggesting all three of them meet up in Diagon when she was going there if possible.

Ron said he didn’t really know much about Heir and Lordshipness, seeing as he was the youngest son, and wasn’t supposed to take over the family, but he would ask his father and Bill all the same on tips – there was no jealousy which once again surprised Harry, seeing as the Ron he remembered from this time still felt overshadowed by his friend, but concern had overtaken any envy, so all that remained was happiness that Harry was truly safe, and well, as the red head had even mentioned himself, Harry had paid the ultimate price to be able to become a Lord already, and it was only fair he used it to his advantage wherever he could.

They had owled back and forth a bit more, and decided to indeed meet up with Hermione on the day she went to Diagon Alley.

Which was where Harry was headed now, leaving under the invisibility cloak in case any aurors had seen to watch Sirius’ ancestral home now that he had escaped. If any still remained that remembered where it was of course, it couldn’t be looked up seeing as it was unplottable.

Sirius was not happy about having to stay cooped up, but he accepted it more readily than he had last time, seeing as his priorities had slightly changed, to ensure nothing would come back to harm Harry, so he was spending some time with Buckbeak, the poor creature feeling even more cooped up than any of them, even if it had the master bedroom to wander around in. Seeing as Sirius was still wandless – something Harry was planning to fix as soon as possible – Harry had taken it upon himself to try and enlarge the room to the best of his ability, and he was planning on going all out in what he could buy in Diagon that might make it more livable for the hippogriff.

Kreacher and Dobby were still going though the rooms making them as habitable as possible and using their magic to transfigure everything into the more pleasing maroon, compared to the black and grey that already existed.

With that, Harry sneaked trough the entrance hall as to not disturb Walburgas portrait, and exited the house, taking in the fresh air (if as fresh as London air ever got) with a smile, shuffling under the cloak.

Well then, he had friends to meet up with.

Chapter Text

Though seeing no one suspicious lurking around, Harry still chose to walk a couple of blocks away before taking off the cloak in a dark alley.

He stepped back out on the sidewalk, and took a moment to stare at his surroundings; being summer and a sunny day, the streets were crowded, and, utterly muggle. Having become used to billowing robes, fanciful suits and pompous gowns, the normalcy of muggle London had become an unfamiliar sight.

He looked down at his own clothes, faded blue jeans, a light blue tee and ratty sneakers and decided that Dudley’s hand me downs – though shrunken to fit his much smaller frame – were still enough to pass muster even if it made him feel out of place. The different style of the wizarding world really had become his norm.

Shaking himself from his musings, Harry soon hailed a cab as he faintly remembered doing at some point before, choosing to forego the almost 1 hour walk to the Leaky Cauldron in exchange for a less than 10-minute drive.

Handing over a few crumbled bills – he would have to convert some wizarding money into pounds in case he needed to get around in muggle London again – Harry exited the cab and found his way to the familiar pub where he took advantage of the muggle repelling charms to cast a glamour on himself. He cast a quick glance at his reflection in one of the grimy windows, and nodded at the youngster he saw, satisfied that no one would look twice at the strangely familiar boy with straight blonde hair, brown eyes and a pudgy form lacking any noticeable scars.

He walked through the pub, quickly greeting Tom on his way, and entered the back alley leading to Diagon Alley without any problems.

The sight that greeted him was as always, a pleasant one, his eyes nearly blinded by all the color and his ears overstimulated by all the noise. It was a sight to behold, even if the lack of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was weird, but so was other shops that had been destroyed or left without anyone to continue them after the war. Nostalgia, Harry guessed was the feeling welling up inside him. He was encountering that feeling often these days, but it couldn’t be helped, and if anything, he was grateful for remembering and appreciating what had been and what would be.

Checking the time, he saw he was quite early, so he decided to stop by Gringotts before starting in on the purchases for the day.

Hurrying up the marble steps, he once again felt his disguise melt away under the heavily enchanted entrance, but shrugged it off, he needed to be himself for this part anyway. Walking up to the closest open counter, Harry greeted the goblin after a quick glance at the name plaque.

“Well met Master… Odbert, I’m here to withdraw some money from my vault, but uhm, I don’t have my key, is there another way to gain access?”

The goblin looked down at Harry with suspicious eyes, but upon recognizing him seemed to relent. “Ahh, Master Potter, strange how a Lord like yourself doesn’t have his keys, but not something that cannot be remedied! Your Lordships ring ought to do the trick, and perhaps, since you should be in possession of your vault key according to our ledgers, a cancelation of any current keys are in order, and a new one handed over of course. But first things first, if you would be so kind as to raise your ring to me, I will perform the necessary spells to verify your identity.”

Frowning at that and remembering how it had always been others that handed him his key before, he frowned at the implications of that. He lifted his hand to the goblin who snapped its fingers and mumbled something in what he assumed to be gobbledegook, he felt his ring heat up for a few moments before returning to its normal state and the goblin leaned back.

“Yes indeed, Lord Harry Potter, verification complete. Now, would you like to go ahead with the cancelation of your current keys?”

Harry thought for a moment at that, cancelling his keys would probably mean that Dumbledore would know something was up the next time he tried to enter his vault, but the key words being his vault, and even then, word was bound to get out that he had taken up his lordship, and he refused to hide it, it was after all going to be one of the things he would use in his favor, plus, the thought of whoever saw fit having access to his vaults didn’t sit right with him.

“Yes, I would like that Master Odbert, and if possible, could I have a document drawn up that tells me of every withdrawal that’s been done over the last, let’s say 13 years? It seems access to my vaults have been broader than I expected, and I would like to get an idea of how that’s been taken advantage of!”

The goblin smiled sharply at that; eyes seemingly pleased as it snapped its fingers again.

“I will make sure to convey your request to Master Ragnok, and it will be done. Your new key is ready, for extra copies to be made, you will have to fill out a request, but it would be a simple matter. Now, I’ve alerted Master Ragnok of your presence, and he will take you down to your vaults himself.”

Surprised that Ragnok himself was coming Harry looked to the side where indeed he saw the small and sinister looking form walking up with a raised brow.

“Thank you, Master Odbert.”

“Good day, Master Potter.”

With that he lost the attention of the goblin just as Ragnok reached him, ignoring his colleague completely, “Well met Master Potter, I was told you needed to access your vaults with your new key?”

“Well met Master Ragnok, yes that’s correct, I decided to go ahead with having all current keys cancelled as they seem to have been distributed without my knowledge.”

The goblin in question looked deeply unhappy about that, but simply fished out a small golden key and handed it over. “As would be wise, now let’s get going!”

And with that Harry found himself following the goblin to the familiar mine carts, and whooping with joy as they flew down the tracks, before stopping abruptly at a vault he didn’t recognize, before he could ask though, Ragnok explained:

“Seeing as you are now Lord Potter, there is no more reason for you to use the Heir vault which has a limited amount of gold in it, but instead the main Potter vault, that traces back many generations and still has revenue from prior endeavors.”

Blinking in surprise the main Potter vault? He hadn’t even known that existed! Though if he thought about it, he supposed that made sense, though plentiful, there had only been gold in his previous vault, and a family as old and prominent as the Potters, surely possessed other things as well, like heirlooms like his cloak for example.

Following Ragnok, he stood by as the goblin drew a pointy finger down the large metal doors, and Harry heard several heavy locks fall back, before handing over his newly acquired key to open the very last lock.

Looking inside as the doors opened, Harry felt his jaw drop.

He had thought he was well off, he hadn’t known he was stinking rich!

The vault itself was easily four times the size of the Heir vault, and besides mountains of galleons, sickles and knuts, there were also piles of gemstones, what had to be clusters of artifacts, chests booming with jewelry, a few portraits which seemed odd to Harry, why weren’t they placed in the places he could feel? But strangely enough, most intriguing to him, was a whole wall stacked with shelves upon shelves of books!

Taking a chance, Harry turned to the goblin who stood at the entrance and stoically refused to enter the vault itself.

“Master Ragnok, would it be possible to purchase a sort of pouch, enchanted of course, to help me retrieve stuff from my vault?”

The goblin observed him slyly, a small smile full of pointy teeth forming at the request. “For a fee, Gringotts has many such available objects.”

As he expected, he walked back to the goblin and listened to it explain the kind of purchases offered, there were different kinds of pouches with enlargement and featherlight charms on them, and even one kind of pouch that would be directly connected to his vault so he would never run out of money. Harry decided that to avoid troubling the goblins too much, he wanted the money pouch with the open connection to his vault, charmed to only be accessible to him, plus a simple enlarged pouch, reminiscent of Hermione’s beaded bag.

“The responding gold will be taken from your vault, and here!” the goblin said, snapping its fingers once again and offering Harry the two pouches that swiftly appeared.

They were simple in their appearance, brown leather bags with strings to hang around one’s neck, the money pouch with runes etched into the fabric.

With a quick thank you, he returned to the vault, as he now had an open connection to the gold inside the vault, he focused on what had most drawn him in anyway – the books! There were too many to go through right there and then. But he looked over the spines of the books, some old and weathered, others surprisingly pristine, and picked out the ones that sounded like they might be of use; there was a book called Household Runes and Other Necessities which seemed like a good starting point to his endeavor in properly studying runes this time around.

Stuffing many such books into his new pouch, he turned at last to other sections of the vault, staring at the artifacts that were neatly stacked, they didn’t look cursed which was a plus, but he thought it safer to go over them with Kreacher, and handily levitated several weird looking objects into his pouch, reminding himself to come back after he received the summary of all his vaults which hopefully would be done in a week or two.

Deciding enough was enough – he’d really only come to fill up on wizarding money – he returned to the surprisingly patient goblin who only nodded at him, before they took the thrilling ride back up to the surface.

Saying goodbye to Ragnok, he didn’t see any reason to keep the account manager occupied since he would be seeing him in a week for his continued healing anyway. Ugh, another thing he was really not looking forward to, but which he had stubbornly decided he would do anyway.

He exited the bank, nodding to the expressionless guards stationed around the entrance, and after a curious look his way, eyes focusing on his forehead, he quickly remembered to reapply his glamour with a wandless whisper.

Casting a quick Tempus, he saw that he was now running slightly late and hurried to Flourish and Blotts where he as expected, saw first a familiar head of ginger hair, and then moments later a shorter bushy haired form, the latter sending longing looks toward the store behind them while the other seemed resigned.

He stopped next to the pair and was met with twin confused looks, before he remembered his disguise.

“Hey guys, it’s me, I thought having Harry Potter wander around might garner unwanted attention, so I’m wearing a glamour.”

Still looking hesitant, he sighed but silently applauded their wariness, before dragging them into the shadows of the store, and let his glamour fall for a moment, winking at the surprised faces of his best friends, before reapplying the glamour and looking at them expectantly.

“You know how to apply a glamour Harry?”

“Why’d you choose to look like Neville?”

They asked simultaneously, and he blinked in surprise, that’s who he reminded himself of!

“First of, I just thought of something opposite how I normally look, I didn’t even realize that meant looking like Neville, and second of all, yeah it’s really not that hard Hermione, I’ve been practicing the last week, it seemed like a good skill to have what with, well me being me. I can teach you if you’d like?”

While the part about practicing casting a glamour wasn’t true, he couldn’t very well say he’d learned it in their sixth year, years in the future-past.

Hermione perked up at the suggestion though, a familiar, eager look entering her eyes “Oh that would be fantastic Harry! I’ve only just started reading through our fourth-year books, and I know I’ll know them by heart by the end of the summer but if you already know the incantation and wand movement of the spell then yeah I’d love to learn it!”

Ron sighed heavily “Now look what you’ve done mate, she’s gonna try to get us to learn fifth- and sixth-year spells as well as fourth year, which I’d like to point out, we haven’t even entered yet!”

The two boys shared a knowing look over their friend’s head as she glared annoyed at the unrepentant ginger among them.

Trying to stave off another bickering session between the two, Harry quickly pulled them into the store. Hermione quickly forgot about everything else as she looked around with glee clear in her eyes, and for once, Harry joined her – back in their school days he had mostly been so overwhelmed with everything that was going on that he hadn’t had the time to just browse and enjoy the bookstores in Diagon Alley even if reading was one of his favorite past times, even reading itself had become a rarity – but having regained that passion after the war and now being back and knowing he needed as much knowledge as possible to get ahead where he could, he was sorely enjoying the rows and rows of books just waiting to be purchased.

Ron again seemed more resigned than reluctant – an improvement from how he usually was when it came to books – and willingly followed Hermione as she grabbed an enchanted basket for herself and the ginger next to her, before disappearing down an aisle with him in tow.

Harry looked after them fondly, before grabbing his own basket – charmed to be weightless no matter the number of books put into it, and bottomless to allow more than just a handful of books to be collected at a time – and went down another aisle, he was looking for books on more than just Ancinet Runes after all, especially books on being an Heir and Lord, politics, the Wizengamot, high level defensive spells and so on. Eyes roaming the shelves around him, he pulled out books left and right and put them in his basket, lifting his hand and murmuring a book locating spell he had learned from Hermione in the future-past, which quickly had dozens of books flying his way.

After going around for about half an hour and with a truly impressive number of books in his basket, more than 40 at the very least, he pondered at it for a moment and then went to the counter.

Ignoring the glances he received from the shopkeeper as he emptied his findings onto the table, he quickly fished out the necessary galleons – quite a hefty sum too, a little over 150 galleons – and stuffed his new purchase into his pouch which seemed to still have room left over.

Then he turned around and looked at the seemingly endless rows of books, Flourish and Blotts was deceptively big, with an impressive enlargement charm adding a lot of room to the seemingly small store.

“Point me Hermione Granger!” he whispered as he pulled out his wand and went about following the direction he was pointed in, and good thing too, his two friends were deep into the store, and it would have taken him ages to find them otherwise.

He heard them before he saw them, talking animatedly to each other.

“…no help at all Ronald, I keep telling you, there’s a big difference between Rustic Runes and Runes For the Rustic Witch and Wizard!”

“Well they sound the same to me anyway, but why don’t you just get both of them?”

“As much as I would like to, I have a limited amount of funds, my pocket money will only reach so far and my parents are already paying for some of it since it’s necessary schoolbooks.”

“Yeah I guess I can understand that, mum gave me some money when I told her I was switching electives – she was very surprised mind you, and it sure wasn’t easy for her – but when she realized I was serious she said she was happy that I was thinking about my future. But even then I’m not sure it’s enough to cover both the third year and the fourth year book, and, well, I don’t really have much pocket money to spend even if I wanted to…” the redhead murmured just as Harry neared a corner.

Turning the corner and seeing his friends at last, Harry frowned at what he had heard. That simply wouldn’t do.

“Maybe I can help with that!” he said and saw his two friends startle at his sudden arrival, before they smiled at him.

“Harry! You found us at last, where have you been?”

“Oh, you know, just browsing.” He said before focusing on Ron, who he could see was replaying his words, and not looking pleased about it.

“Before any of you object, let me at least explain! It was my idea to switch electives a year late, and well, to be frank, I’m Lord Potter and Heir Black, I have more money than I could ever hope to spend, won’t you allow me to pay for this endeavor of ours? I’m not saying it out of pity or anything, but because I truly have the funds, and you two, well you’re as good as family, and this would be a way for me to feel like I’ve celebrated becoming emancipated!”

Ron still didn’t look happy, and Harry knew money had always been a sore spot for the boy who came from a somewhat poor family – or not poor exactly, but with a family as big as theirs, and only one source of income, there wasn’t a lot of extra money left over.

And Harry, he could understand that he had had nothing to his name for the first 10 years of his life, but really, he was going to have to insist. He was rich, and spoiling his friends was just something they would have to get used to.

It took some convincing, but eventually his stubbornness won out, and they agreed to let him pay, to which he’d said ‘perfect’, and then pulled out a few books on chess strategies and quidditch that he’d picked up on the way for Ron, having known beforehand that Hermione would find extra books for herself anyway, and which he would just pay for.

They tried to argue against that, but Harry found that the easiest way to get his way, was to ignore them. So, he calmly took the two baskets from his friends, gave them a smile when they asked what he was doing, and then briskly walked away instead of answering.

They called after him, but he hurried to the counter and received yet another raised eyebrow from the shopkeeper as he emptied out the two baskets, not that it even came close to his earlier purchase; with the two schoolbooks, plus two quidditch and one chess book for Ron, Hermione’s one schoolbook and five extracurricular books and his own two schoolbooks, the 13 books didn’t even come close to his earlier number of 47 books, so he didn’t bat an eye.

His two friends caught up just as he finished paying, and he shot them a bright grin as they panted and glared at him.

“There you are, here you go, as we agreed, your books!” he said happily and ignored the exasperated but fond look from Ron and the grumpy but amused glare from Hermione.

“Oh Harry, you make it hard to be annoyed at you when you look so happy about it!”

“Well, I am happy about it, so there’s that.” He said unrepentantly as he handed them the two bags with their books inside, which they, to his relief, accepted.

They had just left the shop, and were wandering down the alley, window shopping while they caught up on what had happened while apart, not much really, as it had only been a week, when Harry suddenly stopped.

He rubbed his chest, feeling a weird pull, and looked up.

They were standing in front of the Magical Menagerie, and he suddenly remembered that he had been meaning to shop for Buckbeak. He said as much to his friends, and they curiously followed him into the shop.

Having braved the stench of the store on the inside to look for things for Buckbeak, Harry was in the middle of stacking up on ferrets that had been put under a stasis charm as to not go bad, when he heard it.

"Stupid rat, it thinks I do not see it, but I do, and I will have my fill!”

Curious as to who would be vehemently cursing out a rat – and whoever it was, was indeed cursing up a storm – Harry felt himself drawn further into the store, losing Ron and Hermione as he ducked under hanging feed, turned several corners and at last came upon an area dedicated to more animals still.

There was a large glass cage on one side wherein several black rats were skipping around, though Harry singled out a particularly fat one which slumbered behind a plant that did not hide it in the least.

Which meant-

He looked to the left where terrariums took up a whole wall and the inhabitants of said terrariums immediately caught Harry’s attention in a kaleidoscope of colors; snakes!

Low hissing filled the air, and Harry caught snippets of conversation, or perhaps just random words muttered from all around.

Without noticing he had stepped closer, walking along the wall and observing snake after snake, in all colors and sizes, some as small as a finger, others as large as the python he remembered from the zoo many years prior, they truly glittered in colors unusual to the snakes Harry knew about from the muggle world – but then again, this wasn’t the muggle world.

He passed shiny oranges, vibrant greens, and plumb purples before stopping in front of a shabby looking terrarium. It was small, with a hollow log for cover and a form of sawdust-ish cover on the ground and a small (and empty) water holder.

He couldn’t quite put a finger on why this particular cage spoke to him, but his eyes searched the small space until they fell upon the snake coiled around itself, just behind the log. It was a little hard to judge with it all coiled up, but it seemed to be around the length of his arm, with scales the color of wet dirt, though it was all cracked and dry looking – Harry felt a pang of pity and anger at that – and as he stepped closer still, until he was almost pressed against the glass, the small snake shook its diamond shaped head which had two lumps on either side, before opening its eyes and revealing a cloudy grey maybe it was blind Harry thought to himself, even as it blinked and seemed to focus on him.

They stared at each other, and suddenly Harry knew.

He would not be leaving this store without the snake in front of him, it called to him, and he swore to himself that he would answer.

“Hello?” He tried carefully, still a bit unsure how to be certain he spoke in parseltongue.

The snake blinked, and tasted the air with its tongue, rising up a bit to get a closer look at the human in front of it.

“A speaker! How very rare, hello young one!”

“So you can understand me! I’m glad.”

“That is a surprise to me too, but a convenient one, seeing as you are calling for me.”

Harry startled at that, seeing as he had been the one to feel called upon.

“I-I am?”

“Indeed young one, I thought I was wrong, hard not to of course after all this time, but I feel you, I have been waiting for you sire!”

And Harry was just about to question that, when he felt inside himself, and noticed a faint, but not weak rope of light which seemed to connect him to this particular snake.

You have got to be kidding me he thought as he realized what it meant.

“You’re my familiar! I can feel you, can feel the bond we share!”

“So not a total fool, I am pleased, I would hate for my sire to be an embarrassment. Yes I am your familiar young one, as I said, I have been waiting a long time to be found by you, I had started to think you never would.”

Harry briefly thought of last time around, how he had never actually been in the Magical Menagerie on his own, Hagrid had bought Hedwig without him around and Ron had went alone to get rat tonic for Scabbers (ugh the simple thought of that rat). He truly had missed what was supposed to be with him.

But I did, worry not little one, you are mine, and I am yours, you will never again be alone!”

And wasn’t that a dream, Harry knew loneliness, and he recognized it in the small snake in front of him, and he was glad that he could make sure his familiar would never feel that way again.

“Tsk, I might still be little, as my reason to grow was absent, but my name is Aziz, I chose it myself young one!”

“And my name is Harry, you are free to use it, Aziz.”

“Harry… a good name, I approve. Now please free me from this wretched cage, it is much too small and wrong for me, but alas my true heritage is unknown to the keeper of this place, and I have no intention of remedying that!”

Harry looked closer at the small creature in front of him, he didn’t know what it meant by true heritage, but truly it did not matter, Aziz was his and nothing would change that.

“Ah Harry there you are!” a voice said from behind, and Harry turned to look at Ron with a sheepish look as the ginger haired boy came closer.

“Oh no what have you done this time?”

“It seems I’ve acquired an uhm familiar? I guess?”

Hermione turned the corner just as Ron started cackling loudly, thumping Harry heavily on his back, tears in his eyes.

“Oh blimey mate, never a dull moment with you, wait, is it a snake??” the other boy exclaimed as he finally looked at the wall Harry was standing near.

“Is what a snake?” came the curious question from the latest arrival of the trio.

“Well ‘mione, it seems our friend here has acquired himself a familiar, and a snake a that – wonder what that’ll do to your reputation at school – now which one is it, not the spectacular orange one is it? Really a marvelous color!”

Hermione looked just as Harry suspected he had looked in the morning when Sirius told him about Hedwig, confused and baffled.

“Familiar? What’s that?”

“Young one, could you free me before you engage with your nest-mates?”

Harry startled, momentarily having forgotten how Aziz was not in a desired environment, but at the mere thought, anger welling up inside him again, the glass to the cage suddenly disappeared as he felt a tell-tale tingling sensation he contributed to his magic lashing out.

Ignoring the surprised yelps behind him, he gingerly reached in and picked up the small snake, its scales really all dried up, which he instinctively knew was wrong. Hissing contently, Aziz slithered up his arm and draped himself across Harry’s shoulders.

The bond in his chest trembled happily and settled firmly next to what he now knew was his bond with Hedwig.

“Harry! You can’t just take a snake from its enclosure!”

Scoffing at the word, Harry just petted Aziz’ head and smiled at his two friends. “We’ll explain later, but Aziz is mine Hermione, and I’m gonna go properly buy him now of course, I’m not a thief”

Placated by this, his friend looked the snake over with a worried furrow to her brow.

“Is-is it okay? It doesn’t look very healthy?”

Harry’s gaze hardened, he really would like a few words with the owner of this place, but alas it was probably better to play nice and simply get the purchase over with.

“His name is Aziz, and no I can tell he’s not doing great, but now we’ve found each other I’m going to remedy that, and he will be healthy again!”

Mind made up, Harry walked determinedly to the front of the store, his two friends following behind while mumbling to each other – Harry guessed Ron was giving a run down on what a familiar was – and it wasn’t as if he knew himself, but he was pretty sure the snake being a familiar would ensure no one could separate them, even if they were dissatisfied with him having vanished the glass of one of their terrariums.

No matter what, Aziz was leaving with him.

“You humans and your weird habits, I don’t understand it.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not alone in thinking we’re weird, but it is what it is, I don’t really care as long as there’s no issue with you leaving with me!”

The small snake hissed in agreement and went back to resting comfortably on his shoulders.

In the end, Harry was right that the owner of the menagerie wasn’t happy about him having taken the snake without permission, but as soon as Ron piped in that it was a familiar, the reluctance seemed to bleed out of the small man in front of them.

“Oho, a familiar you say, well Merlin be damned, I guess for a small fee I’ll overlook the ruination of one of my terrariums. Pity it had to be this snake, it’s a mix match of different species, but nothing special, but alas fate had plans for this one and so be it.”

Hackles rising at the demeaning tone used for mentioning Aziz, Harry opened his mouth to retort, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

Ron gave him a knowing look, but shook his head ever so slightly, so Harry sighed, and calmed himself by petting his newfound snake again.

*

A little while later, the trio left the shop with Harry having purchased enough goods to have the owner extremely satisfied and cozying up to them as if seeing them in a new light after spending so much money in his shop.

Aziz slumbered happily on Harry’s shoulders, and he was glad for Diagon Alley being a center for unusual sights since no one spared them a second glance despite a 3-foot snake being coiled around him.

Hermione on the other hand, was on a roll, outraged that information about familiars were not taught despite being so common – she was now debating whether Crookshanks was actually her familiar – and quite unfairly perhaps, sending her glares Ron’s way, as if the poor boy had been aware it wasn’t common knowledge.

There was a serious rift there, between muggleborns, well half-bloods too if they were muggle raised, like Harry, and then purebloods. Too many things were glossed over or not mentioned at all, it made intermingling more difficult, and Harry suddenly wondered why there wasn’t a bigger initiative to integrate the two sides.

“-definitely half kneazle!”

“Oh you think? He really is so very clever, more so than a normal cat, and he knew Scabbers was an untrusty pet from the start…”

The conversation halted as they thought about the fake rat Scabbers, Ron looking slightly green at the thought – and Harry thought it was warranted, the boy had slept with a grown man for years, which was wrong on so many levels – which then led them to think about all that had happened during their school year.

Which reminded him!

Dragging his two contemplating friends into an empty alley, Harry cast a few secrecy spells, which had Hermione raising an eyebrow as at least one of them was above even fourth year spells, but she gracefully let it slide.

“Blimey it’s strange to see you being allowed to do magic freely, it’s enough to make one jealous!” Ron said with a half-smile, proving he was joking, at least mostly, but whatever jealousy he did feel was still overshadowed by his concern for Harry.

And Harry, he turned to his friends with a happy grin.

“I suddenly remembered you don’t know what happened after my emancipation! Well you’re not gonna believe this!–”

It was yet another while after that that the trio rejoined the bustling main street, two formerly worried friends appeased at how Harry was not only safe and free, but with an adult that cared for him, a dream scenario compared to the truth they had learned of and been unable to accept the continuation of.

Having finished the purchases they came there for – Ron was still unhappy about the thickness of the Ancient Runes books, but he was determined too, and had even accepted a planner from Hermione without a fuss, wherein she had mapped out how much he would need to read up on and practice before the summer holidays were over if he, and Harry too, were to pass the qualification exam to be allowed to shift electives – they decided to head to Florean’s to rest, it was Harry’s treat, he insisted, and ignored their protests.

Sitting down and letting Hermione’s excited chatter about all the homework wash over them, Ron and Harry exchanged a grin, before the ginger boy surprisingly returned his attention to the ramblings of their friend, studiously listening for once.

Harry smiled, it was going to be a lot of work, but the trio was determined, and that he knew, was more than enough.