Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Harry!" Sirius waved from the roof, "put that new can on the line!"

Harry hooked a fresh can of white paint in and flashed a thumbs up. "Okay!"

Sirius reeled it up with the pulley system and started readying his supplies. Then, he marched to the east side of the house and rappelled off so he could paint the window shutters with ease. Harry followed him, keeping the extra brushes and drip cloths wrangled so he could give Sirius anything he might need. Together, they finished the house in less than three hours, a full hour less than Sirius quoted.

"Thank you!" The elderly muggle cheered when she hobbled out to view their work. "It's beautiful! Thank you, kind sir." She tried to shove some pounds into his hand and Sirius pushed it away.

"It's on the house, Mrs. Livery," he insisted. "I don't need the money, I swear."

"Here, you worked hard today. Buy some whiskey with it!" She grinned at Harry and shoved the notes in his hand.

"Er, I'm...fourteen," he said, blushing.

She cackled loudly, her curly white hair bouncing on her head. "Fourteen? Sonny, you're at least three years behind where I was at your age!"

Sirius widened his eyes over her head and it took all of Harry's control not to laugh.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, pocketing the money. "It was no trouble at all."

They drove back to Badger's Mount, a small village outside of London that somehow made it seem like they were far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sirius blasted his mixtapes of rock-and-roll artists from the seventies that Harry was trying his best to learn how to identify. They stopped only to buy Slush Puppies from a filling station.

Harry sang along to a song he half-knew, feeling the warm sun soak into his skin, tasting the cola sweetness on his tongue. He was so happy he could probably fight a thousand dementors in that moment.

"How was work?" Remus asked when they thumped into the back garden.

"Harry's had his payday," Sirius called out over his shoulder as he floated the tools into the garage. "It's drinks on him tonight."

"I was thinking about making a pie," Remus shared when Harry wandered over. He had a long green hose in hand and he expertly watered each flower patch for exactly as long as they needed. "Do you prefer apple or mince?"

"I prefer both," Harry replied.

Remus laughed. "Okay, we can make both. You do one, I'll do the other."

Harry loved being at his godfather's house. The fact that they lived in a muggle village, of all places, was even more interesting to him. Harry learned more about the muggle world in his afternoons there than he ever had from his mum.

Sirius and Remus lived in total bliss. Their cottage was two stories, bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, with a potion lab, two-story library, multiple bedrooms, a garage, a large kitchen, and even some muggle fixtures like a TV and a Nintendo.

In addition, they owned two muggle cars, Sirius's Trusty Dog Painting van and Remus's sleek sedan. Remus even taught Harry how to drive it in an empty parking lot one morning. It was not as exhilarating as a broom, but Harry was fascinated by cars and especially admired Sirius's large black motorbike. His mum made Sirius swear on his soul not to let Harry ride it that summer, but he did get to learn how engines worked, and a bit about the magic that made it fly.

At first, Harry only spent an afternoon at a time with his godfather. But as the summer wore on he started stringing together overnights and weekends, mostly whenever his mum was working long hours at St. Mungo's. Then, as the Quidditch World Cup approached, Harry negotiated with his parents to stay with Sirius and Remus for the rest of the summer.

"What are you going to do with all this pie?" Harry asked, carefully mimicking Remus's neat crimping on the mince pie.

"You're going to help us eat it, right?" Remus patted his stomach, "Otherwise I will."

Harry snickered and used a sharp paring knife to cut a diamond pattern in the top. When he was done, Remus handed him the egg wash and a brush.

"And your sister can help," Remus added as an afterthought, floating them into the oven. "Does she like sweets?"

Yes, Evan loved sweets more than Harry did - the richer the better, actually. But the mention of her made his heart drop.

"Sirius didn't tell you?"

The tone of his voice was all Remus needed to hear. He smiled sadly. "She decided not to come?"

Harry shook his head. He never knew what to say to them about Evan this summer. She'd done this so many times. In total, she'd only spent about seven hours at the Badger's Mount house. Evan refused to give him a straight answer on why she didn't want to come, which only led to one conclusion in his mind - she didn't like Remus or Sirius.

"Sorry. Should have told you sooner," Harry said glumly.

Remus hummed, "I'm not disappointed, Harry. To be strictly honest with you, I thought this might happen." The kettle that they'd put on started whistling. "Tea?"

The two of them sat across from each other at the dining room table. It was not long and stately like the one at Harry's house - it was scuffed and covered in carvings and drawings (mostly done by Sirius) and half the time it was obscured by folders from Remus's job. Harry liked it. Sitting at it made him feel like he was part of their house. Many of their things were scuffed, scarred, broken, repaired. It felt lived in and loved in a way Harry's house did not.

"Are you disappointed that your sister's not coming?" Remus asked.

Harry traced a carving of Padfoot in the table top, "Well - yeah. I'm disappointed for you guys, mostly. And I thought we'd, you know," he shrugged, "have fun. I wanted to show her everything we do around here."

"Yeah," Remus set his chin on his hand. "That is disappointing. What about when you were at home? Did you get to hang out then?"

He sighed, "She was mostly in her room, or flying. Mum seemed worried about her, but at the same time she told me to give her space."

Remus arched his eyebrow, "You disagree?"

"She's had a whole summer of space," Harry muttered. "What she needs is someone to talk to - someone to make her talk to them. She's just - she blames herself, for what happened." He slumped back. "I already talked to her about it once, but I did all the talking and at the end she just gave me a hug and said thank you." And then because he knew Remus was going to ask, he said, "I wanted to hear her admit that it wasn't her fault so she can forgive herself."

Remus folded his hands together, pressing the arch of his fingers against his mouth. He stayed silent for a minute, amber eyes distant and thoughtful.

"It sounds like she hasn't forgiven herself yet," he said softly. "And you already know you can't make her. But you're on the right path, Harry. Reaching out to her, trying to get her to break out of her self-imposed isolation, reminding her that it isn't her fault, she needs to hear it, and she needs to hear it from you because she trusts you."

Then Remus reached across the table and laid his hand on Harry's, just to give it a quick squeeze. "You're doing everything in your power," he assured him. "It's alright to give yourself a break, too. I'm sure we can find something fun to distract you with around here."

He always felt so much better after talking to Remus. Ever since he started coming here regularly, he noticed that it was much easier to manage the stress and tension of home.

"You're too good at your job, you know that?"

Remus looked caught and slithered shamefully down in his chair. "Sirius says I can't turn it off. Which isn't true, by the way, he just can't communicate to save his life."

"I communicate perfectly well!" Sirius complained from the back porch.

Remus shook his head and mouthed, he does not.

"Do you ever work with anyone who's...un-helpable?" Harry asked.

"Almost no one is beyond help," Remus replied. "What I encounter is that people don't want help, even if they arrive on time and sit through the entire session, I can see it doesn't actually stick in their brains." He made a face, "I tell myself that they must be getting something out of it, besides my signature, but who's to say."

In the muggle world, Remus Black was a contract counsellor for a few different addiction and rehabilitation centers. He worked with alcoholics and drug addicts who were trying to find their footing and transition back into the real world. Harry had been fascinated to learn that every other week he also ran anger management therapy at a minimum security prison.

Part of him wanted to get his sister here because he thought, maybe, Remus could help her too, just by virtue of being so easy to talk to. But he was right. If Evan didn't want help, Harry couldn't force it down her throat.

"Maybe you should bring one of the pies to work," Harry suggested. Remus's stories about some of the people he'd met at the rehabilitation center still made him sad to think about.

The wizard's eyes crinkled as he smiled at Harry, "That's a grand idea, Harry."

"Look here, Moony," Sirius interrupted, strutting into the living room shaking a torn-up towel above his head, "how's this for communicating? You thought I wasn't listening to you when you told me to stop using the white towels in the garage, but I was."

"I never criticized your ability to listen -"

"A-hah! You admit you were criticizing me!"

"More like a critique," Remus sipped his tea loudly, looking Sirius up and down. "Living with you is like living with a mad artist. I find paint in my bedsheets and most Tuesday mornings you're drunk in the bathtub."

"Mondays are my Saturday," Sirius shot back. The uncontrollable twitch of his lips made Remus snort. "Tell him he's the worse husband, Harry."

Harry had not been paying attention at all. "Huh?" He said unintelligently, trying to clear his head by shaking it, but then he looked back and - nope.

Sirius tipped his head, "Cat got your tongue?" He gasped, "Werewolf got your tongue? Moony, what did you do to him?"

Harry tried and failed to stop staring, but he literally couldn't. Sirius had discarded his painter's jumpsuit and must have gotten changed in the garage. Harry had certainly seen him in ripped muscle-tees before, with the gaping arm holes that showed off the ridges of his abs and all the magical tattoos he had, but he had never worn a cut-off shirt before.

In fact, Harry didn't think he'd ever seen a man wear what Sirius was wearing right then, and it was doing something to his brain.

"He's probably shocked you're walking around in those," Remus traced his jean shorts with his eyes. "Those are at least twelve years old. They've been out of fashion for longer than that."

The shorts were also cut off rather high, above Sirius's quads. Harry tried to look at the floor but got stuck on the shorts for more than a few seconds. Fucking STOP.

It was just - and Merlin this felt gross to think - Sirius was fit. Like, undeniably hot, possibly the most attractive person Harry had met in the real world. It was a fact that was easily dismissible when he was wearing more clothes.

Just picture Professor Black instead, his brain said unhelpfully.

Instantly, the image of his sleek, long-haired professor standing in class in a cut off-shirt and shorts took root in his mind and did not let up.

"I'm going to take a nap," Harry announced, clumsily darting out of the room.

When he was gone, Remus reached out and tugged on Sirius's belt loop until he was half-straddling the chair. Sirius wasn't paying attention, though. His face was a mask of concern.

"You think Harry's alright? Did he tell you that Evan's not coming?"

Remus snorted and hooked one hand around the back of his thigh, massaging his thumb into his tight hamstring. "I don't think that was Harry's problem."

Sirius looked down, his hair falling in front of his face. "What? What's wrong with him?"

Remus rolled his eyes and pressed his forehead into Sirius's stomach. "You can't wear these around Harry," he murmured, breathing against that smooth bit of skin under his belly button. He teased his fingers under the inseam, just enough to feel Sirius tense up.

"Hm?" Sirius definitely sounded a bit out of breath. "Why?"

Remus slowly stood up. Sirius stayed right where he was, so their bodies slid against each other until Remus was nose-to-nose with him. Sirius's pupils were wide and dark, and there was a flush under his eyes.

"Don't play dumb," he reprimanded, sliding his other hand around his lower back, the top of his short t-shirt brushing against his arm. "Your godson's going to have impossible standards if you keep wandering around like this."

Sirius tipped his head back and laughed. "Hell - I didn't mean to - I put this on for you."

"How generous," Remus smiled, kissing Sirius's pulse point and feeling him go tight in his arms, like a bowstring.

"Not here -" Sirius managed to say as Remus kept up a careful exploration of all the ridges of his spine and his ribcage with his fingers. "I'm supposed to be responsible, damn it."

They both laughed at that, and Remus obligingly let up and led him to somewhere more private than the kitchen table. He was a good husband, after all.

---

A soft knock tore Harry from his book. "Come in!"

Sirius softly pushed his door open. It was his final night at Badger's Mount. The next day, they'd take him to King's Cross to board the train.

"Wow, Remus is really rubbing off on you," Sirius whistled, noting that Harry was nearly done with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. "Didn't you buy that today?"

"This morning," Harry shrugged, marking his spot and spinning around. "What's up?"

Sirius perched himself on the edge of the bed, and then slid to the floor. "Come on, pup," he patted the carpet. "Join your old godfather."

"You're not old."

Sirius snickered, turning so they were angled toward each other. "Have you had a good summer? Despite all the..." He grimaced, "Death Eater related chaos at the World Cup?"

"It was the best, despite that." Harry said earnestly. "The best summer I've ever had, truly."

"Ah, well, we all deserve one of those." Sirius pulled a wrapped package from behind his back, trying to hide the flush on his face. Harry grinned, not in anticipation of the gift, but at his godfather's tenderness. Sirius was both one of the fiercest wizards he'd ever met and, somehow, the most caring, and the most empathetic. He was warm and funny, always ready with a new game or adventure to distract him when he came back from Godric's Hollow in a low mood. But he was also quiet, which Harry liked about him most of all. It was easy to talk to him when Sirius left so much space.

This time, it was Harry who held his peace as Sirius worked up to what he wanted to say.

"This is for you," he handed over the package. Harry could feel something heavy slide around inside. "Go ahead and open it."

Inside he found a thick piece of folded parchment and a medium-sized handmirror. Harry held the parchment up in bemusement. It was blank.

"I showed you that once," Sirius said. "Remember?"

It came to him with a gasp. Harry took out his wand and tapped the front. "Er...I solemnly swear I am...up to no good?"

Sirius clapped and leaned over his shoulder to read the parchment. Again, the seal of Hogwarts appeared, but this time underneath their four names was a scrawling bit of dialogue.

Mister Padfoot wonders if the holder of the map is sure he's up to no good, in which case, he is encouraged to locate his balls and affix them before continuing.

"You prat!"

"I was a bit of a prick as a kid," Sirius covered his face. "Let me show you how this works. It's not really the same when you're not at Hogwarts, but..."

Sirius explained what the Marauder's Map was, and Harry's eyes got progressively bigger. "You guys made this when you were sixteen?"

"We had a lot of prototypes over the years," Sirius stroked the inked image of Gryffindor Tower's common room. "I think the first map was actually made in second year. It didn't work like this though. We just needed a way to track all the hidden passageways we were finding."

Harry cradled the map with awe.

"And this," Sirius took the mirror and held it up, "will let you talk to me and Remus whenever you want. Just say my name, or his, and our mirror will go off. It'll be like talking in person, almost." He laid the mirror back down and fluttered his hands like he didn't know what to do with them. "You don't have to save it for an emergency," he added, not meeting Harry's eyes, "you can use it whenever. Once a day, even, if you wanted. Day or night, Harry, you can call on us."

Harry tried to smile, but he couldn't quite do it. All of a sudden he felt raw, like he'd had a bad sunburn. It was just setting in that he was leaving. He wouldn't see Sirius again until Christmas, maybe.

"As for the map, I'd suggest keeping it a secret. Not only because it's a powerful bit of contraband, but also because it'll give you a leg up on your sister." He rolled his eyes, "S'only fair if she has the cloak."

Harry stiffened. The cloak. Evan told him the complete truth about it in the hospital wing. Their father had given it to her after that Quidditch game in January, when they were attacked by dementors. To use in case of an emergency.

At first it hadn't meant much to him until he learned, from his father, that the Invisibility Cloak was actually a family heirloom. It had been passed down through the generations for so long that he didn't even know where it came from. Harry had no idea it even existed, and dad gave it right to Evan without telling him.

"I only gave it to her because it might save her life, Harry."

"Well it's not like we can share the cloak," Harry said, a bit thickly. He ran his thumb along the thick edge of the map. "We're not in the same house."

There was a moment of silence, the kind that swelled between them sometimes when Sirius was making space for him to say something. But Harry couldn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. His dad was right - Evan did need the cloak more than him. She was the one being targeted by mad wixen led by the Dark Lord. There was no use getting upset about it. That stupid little jab of pain he'd felt when the truth came out still hurt, sure, but there was nothing Harry could do about it. It was just the way things were.

"It is unfair, though." Sirius's voice was a low rumble in his chest. Harry flinched. It was like Sirius was reaching into the back of his mind and pulling out what Harry couldn't say. "He didn't even tell you that he gave it to her. And it's something that's yours as much as it is hers. Should be, anyway."

His next breath sounded shaky and loud. His throat was constricting, there was pressure in his head. Fuck, Harry thought, digging his knuckles into his eyes. Stop it.

Episodes like this had happened on more than one occasion that summer, but never in front of someone else. Harry swallowed and forced the emotion away.

"Harry, look..." Sirius sighed, and then he was right there, looping his arm around his shoulders and pressing their sides together. He didn't pull him in for a hug, just loosely cradled him in, moving his thumb soothingly up and down behind the back of Harry's ear. "I get that you're not a complainer, or whiner, and that you're very mature for your age. Too mature, in my opinion, but Remus says I'm not a good judge for normalcy."

Harry managed a wet little laugh and promptly covered his face, sniffing.

"But it's okay for you to complain, and whine, or fly into a rage and break some stuff, or even cry. You hold everything in," Sirius tapped his chest, "it's not good for you. It makes me worried about you."

Harry felt most of his resolve wash away in that instant to hear him say that. Like a dam breaking, his shoulders started to shake, and breathy, quiet sobs tore from his mouth. His face was so hot he had to pull his hands back just to get some air.

"This is -" he took several gulping breaths with his eyes squeezed shut. "This isn't what I do."

"Mhmm..." Sirius moved his arm down and started rubbing circles over Harry's back. "I get that, kid. You're always so calm and collected, even when there are a hundred dementors trying to kill us."

"But it doesn't change anything," he managed to get out, before his body seemed to decide he'd had enough. He let out a truly humiliating sound, a very loud sob that turned into another, and another. It felt like something was unraveling in his chest, a curse that had been lying dormant for so long that he never realized it had grown so powerful.

Sirius turned and pulled him in tightly, letting Harry curl against him like a little kid. The last time he had cried this much, (and it hadn't been this much), had been over Christmas, last year. After the fight. Thankfully, he'd done most of it in the shower so no one saw, but this? He was pretty sure Remus could hear him from across the house. Maybe even the neighbors, too.

His godfather was warm all around him, though, and Harry soon lost all ability to feel shame. He cried until the pain in his chest eased, until he wasn't even crying because he was in pain anymore.

"I'm going to miss you a lot," Harry sobbed brokenly, holding on to Sirius's shirt. "Remus too."

He could feel Sirius smile. "That's what the mirror's for, Harry," he said fondly. "To tide us over until we can see you again."

---

Evan pulled her long hair out from under the strap of her bookbag. The platform was absolute chaos as everyone began to panic and say their goodbyes in the final minute. She checked her watch again. Tapped her foot.

The train whistle screamed. The wheels clunked as the brakes lifted up. She looked around at the blurry mass of people, cursing her poor eyesight. Where is it?

Maybe it was a ruse the whole time. Maybe someone was about to snatch her right as the train pulled away, and she was just stupidly playing into their hands. In this chaos, Evan could disappear easily. Her parents were already gone. Mum had to run back to work, and dad had an emergency at the office, so there was no one around to notice her.

For once, Evan was hoping not to be noticed. With her glasses off and a beret on her head, she looked different enough that no one should look twice.

Something squeaked loudly. At first she thought it was the train beginning to move, and then she felt it. Something sitting on her boot.

She bit back the urge to scream. A fat, ugly rat was sitting on her shoe with a tiny cloth package hanging from its teeth. It tucked it into the top of her shoe, and she shivered from head to toe to feel its wiry whiskers touch her skin.

And then it was gone. Evan jumped on the train just as it began to move, quickly picking up her foot to push the sack down further in her shoe. It'd be safe there until she could take it out later.

She put her glasses back on and shoved her hat in her pocket. Her hands were shaking. Right before she entered the compartment she was sharing with her friends, she stopped. Took a deep breath. Buried the nausea roiling in her stomach.

Smile, she told herself.

"Evan, there you are!" Hermione jumped up to give her a hug.

"I've been walking up and down the train looking for you!" Evan returned, picking her up and swinging Hermione side-to-side.

"Put me down! Merlin, you're strong!"

Evan laughed for real, and within seconds she was able to push all thoughts of what she had done from her head.

---

"This year, Hogwarts will be joined by two other schools," Headmaster Dumbledore explained. "Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic..."

"Damn, I was hoping one would be Ilvermorny," Theo whispered to Harry. "Imagine all the accents we'd get to hear."

"I knew we watched too many American movies this summer," Harry smirked.

"...they shall be our special guests, so please, treat them with the utmost respect, and welcome them to join in on all your favorite Hogwarts past-times."

"Like getting eaten by a basilisk?"

"Or swarmed by dementors?"

"Would you two shut up!" Daphne kicked them under the table. "Snape is watching you!"

Harry flushed, decidedly not looking at his Head of House to confirm. It seemed like they were at the end of Dumbledore's annual welcome speech.

"Lastly, I'd like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, although..." Dumbledore turned comically toward the conspicuously empty chair at the staff table. "It seems he's been held up by the storm."

As if summoned, thunder crashed outside of Hogwarts, and the doors to the Great Hall pushed open at the same time.

"Ah! Here he is!" Dumbledore said happily. An excited murmur fluttered through the school. Several people stood up, obscuring the figure striding down the center of the hall.

"On loan from the Ministry of Magic, one of the department's youngest investigative aurors ever recorded."

Harry sat straight up like he'd been electrocuted.

"Two-time recipient of the Order of Merlin, first class, his outstanding career and experience will make him a most valuable asset to your education this year. Please help me welcome Professor James Potter!"

Harry's dad shook Dumbledore's hand and then turned and waved at the students. Harry felt eyes zeroing in on him from all around the room, especially from his own housemates.

"You didn't know?" Blaise whispered across from him.

Slowly, Harry turned his horrified gaze up the table - not to his father, but to Severus.

Severus looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"Oh my god," Harry ducked his head, strategically putting Draco's blonde hair in the middle of his father's eye-line. "What is going on?"

Theo looked almost more horrified than him. "I'm going to fail," he whispered. "I'm going to fail his class. There's no way I won't. Oh fuck."

"You? The whole house is going to fail defense!"

"Draco, you're not helping," Daphne sighed. "I'm sure Professor Potter -"

Harry groaned like a dying animal.

"- will be a fair teacher."

They didn't get to find out what kind of teacher he'd be until the second day of classes, so Harry had a full twenty-four hours to work up enough stress to develop an ulcer.

"This is a nightmare," Harry murmured as he and Theo took their seats in the middle of the room. Evan, Harry noted, sat in the very front. The sight made him want to vomit.

"This is literally a nightmare I had last year," Theo hissed back. "Your dad brought me up to the front of class and made me sing a song to humiliate me. And then Filch came and tried to hang me by my toes for being off-rhythm."

Harry stopped what he was doing to turn to Theo. "Are you okay?" He said seriously. "What the hell goes on in that head of yours?"

Theo didn't even crack a smile. His mouth was drawn, and his blue eyes followed Harry's dad anxiously as he paced restlessly at the front of the class. "This year is going to suck."

"Listen up!"

Harry squeezed his hand into a fist under the table, trying vainly to separate the man in the classroom from his father. There was just something wrong about being your parent's student.

"I've reviewed your scores from the last three years. Some of you, to be frank, aren't going to make it through your OWL next year if we don't do some serious revision. So," he waved his wand at the chalkboard, revealing a detailed calendar written in his dad's exact, neat cursive, "we're going back to some basics."

Harry was able to disassociate enough in class to feel somewhat hopeful that, maybe, it wouldn't be a total loss. His dad's plan was to teach them the fundamentals of dueling, and move on from there to honing their dark detection and curse-breaking skills. In a normal universe, Harry would actually be excited.

"I'd like to start today with a simple game, called quick-draw." Harry looked up and made the mistake of meeting his father's eyes. "Harry?" He winked, "Would you like to help demonstrate?"

What was he supposed to do, say no? Careful not to look too bewildered, he got up and joined his father at the front of the class.

"It's very simple," his dad took a few paces back. "You'll pair up, and from a sheathed wand, see who can draw fastest and let off the first spell. In this case, we'll use pulmira to launch a ball of fog at your partner. The rules are, once you draw you have to hold completely still. Whoever gets hit first is the winner. Questions?"

Hermione shot her hand into the air and his dad nodded at her. "How do we know when to start?"

Harry had been ready the second he got to his feet. He and Evan used to play this game with toy wands all the time when they were little, so he wasn't fooled by the way his father casually turned his head, as if he wasn't poised to act at any moment.

"This game relies on one thing," dad gave the class a toothy grin. "Instinct."

There was a dramatic pause. Nothing happened.

Then, right as his father turned to look at him, Harry struck. "Pulmira!"

His ball of fog broke into pieces against a bright blue shield that appeared without a word. "Ah, f-shit, uh -" his dad rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry. Harry, you won. The shield is just, instinct."

The shield dropped. Harry took one look at his starry-eyed classmates and resigned himself to a year of them hero-worshipping his father.

"Are you going to teach us wordless shield spells by the end of the year, too?" Harry quipped, because he felt he had to say something.

His dad's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. "If anyone here can perform a wordless protego before the last day of school, they'll earn a hundred points."

---

"So, what's his deal?" Theo asked as they settled in to watch students put their names in the Goblet of Fire. The arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students hadn't been enough to distract Harry from the disjointed reality that his dad was one of his Professors, but he was trying his best to enjoy the pre-tournament excitement.

"He said it was just an accident," Harry mumbled, keeping Evan's nearby group in his periphery. Didn't need her overhearing and then telling their dad that Harry hated having him at Hogwarts. "Mad-Eye Moody was supposed to teach instead but he fell ill and is in St. Mungo's, or something. My dad was his last-minute replacement."

Theo restlessly tapped one finger over his wrist. Harry's eyes stuck to the slope of his wrist bone and then traveled over the crook of his fingers, noticing (not for the first time) how long they were. Theo's hands had always been a fascination to him because he was always tinkering with something - a runic array, a broken watch, a piece of origami. But this time, for whatever reason, Harry noted that among all the other hands his gaze had been getting stuck on recently, Theo's were really the most...

"Harry?"

"Hm?" Harry swallowed. Choked on his own spit. "What?" He coughed.

"Are you listening to this?" Theo slid closer, pointing at Evan.

"I just think that the cup wouldn't even choose someone who wasn't strong enough to compete," Evan was arguing with Hermione. "Therefore, anyone should be allowed to put their name in."

"But what if it chose a third year, or something?" Hermione shook her head, "Raw strength can be easily defeated by strategy. And younger students just don't have the same experience as older ones."

"Does anyone have the experience to face the trials of the Triwizard Tournament?" Evan lounged back and stretched her legs, watching two Beauxbatons girls put their names in the cup. Harry felt a stir of unease seeing the way his sister studied them hungrily. "It's supposed to be about creativity as much as it is about power."

Hermione scoffed. "Tell that to the twenty-seven dead witches and wizards, Evan."

Harry and Theo slowly looked at each other.

"It's impossible," Theo murmured. "That age line was drawn by Dumbledore."

"But could she get someone else to put her name in?"

Theo seemed stumped for a moment. He frowned down at the circle around the cup. "Surely not...that's too easy."

Harry stood up. "Library?"

Theo smirked, standing up and knitting his hands behind his back to crack his chest. Harry felt a brief flutter in his heart. Theo was still lanky and taller than him by a few inches, but he'd put on muscle over the summer, and now his shirts fit a little tighter. Harry's eyes flickered and got stuck on the hollow of his collar before he grabbed hold of his senses and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Theo said curiously as they left the Great Hall.

"I just can't believe I'm even worried about this," Harry muttered, keeping his gaze ahead where it would hopefully stop wandering unhelpfully over his best friend's clothes. Harry felt it necessary to remind himself that Theo was in that special category every time he had one of these treacherous episodes.

"It occurred to me a few days ago," Theo sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "But you know that I'm a cynic. I always prepare for the worst."

---

"Last chance to bet on who it will be from Hogwarts!"

Draco immediately slid two galleons to Pansy, who wrote his bet down in a small black notebook. "Diggory."

"What about Bell?" Harry piped up. Pansy made grabby hands at him and he reluctantly forked over the change in his pocket, three sickles and a mint.

"Bell doesn't have the same cult following as Diggory," Draco shook his head. "It'll definitely be him."

"You think the Goblet of Fire cares about who we like the most?"

"Obviously." Draco sneered at him, a truly unpleasant sight that made Harry want to punch him in the balls. "Why else would they put it in the middle of the Great Hall if not to listen to us?"

The fourth-year Slytherins all exchanged the same look. Even Vince furrowed his brow Draco's way.

"Don't you all read any history?" Draco hissed, his ears were burning under the force of their scorn. "Don't look at me like that! That's how it works!"

Right then, a hush fell over the students as the goblet's fire turned blue. The first name fluttered out.

"For Durmstrang - Victor Krum!"

The Slytherin table rocked with cheers as all Durmstrang students stamped their feet and shouted Krum's name.

The goblet flared again, and another piece of parchment flew out.

"For Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!"

The beautiful blonde lifted her chin proudly throughout her applause and followed Victor to the side room. All of the Hogwarts students fell silent in anticipation.

Blue flame. A bit of parchment. And then -

"The Hogwarts Champion is - Cedric Diggory!"

Hufflepuff exploded into cheers as the sandy-haired seeker got to his feet, waving and looking generally windswept, like he truly hadn't expected it.

"Gods, I hate him," Theo murmured, tracking Diggory's every step. Harry froze with his cup to his mouth, rocked with an unexpected flare of annoyance low in his belly.

"I'll hate him all over this castle if he wants," Daphne agreed. Theo smirked at her, and Harry had to look straight up at the enchanted ceiling to keep from scowling at his best friend. Of all the people, why Diggory?

And also, had he known that Theo liked blokes? They'd never talked about things like crushes before. Truthfully, Harry had never had the time. His mind started to race. Was Theo just joking? Diggory was handsome, that was for sure, but -

"Look!"

The goblet had turned blue once again. Dumbledore caught a fourth scrap of parchment and held it up to read. He was silent for a beat. Harry felt a rush of dread.

"Evangeline Potter."

"No," Harry whispered, viciously pinching himself.

The whole hall seemed to hold their breath. He watched some of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students turn back and forth, trying to identify who he was talking about.

Dumbledore's grave face looked steadily at the Gryffindor table. "Evan Potter!" He repeated, a little louder.

Evan stood. A collective gasp, followed by intense whispering alighted through the students. Harry gaped at his sister, feeling Draco go as stiff as a board by his side, and Theo grip the side of the table until his fingers turned white.

Evan looked terrified. Her face was stark white. Her hair was down, for once, and she let it fall slightly over her face as she walked quickly up to Dumbledore, and then past him, following the other champions.

"She did it," Theo whispered, in a tone bordering on awe.

"No!" Harry hissed back, watching his sister disappear into that room. "She did not."

"But she -"

"She's scared," Harry turned on Theo with fire in his eyes and his best friend flinched back. "She did not put her name in that cup. I know what we heard, but she wouldn't actually do that. Clearly someone is trying to kill her."

None of his friends dared to say anything about it after that.

Harry lurked outside of the Great Hall long after they'd been dismissed. There was no one around to reprimand him, not even a prefect. All the other students had gone back to their dorms, or up to the library. Some were even sitting together on the moving staircases, gossiping.

When the champions and all the respective officials began to file out of that side room, he had to contain the urge to sprint across the room to Evan. She approached him with their dad just behind her, a dark and stormy look on his face.

Harry knew why. Evan couldn't get out of the Tournament. In his research about the Goblet, he'd learned all about its magical contract.

He took Evan's hand and tugged her into the nearest empty classroom. For once, he wasn't bothered that their father tagged along.

"Who do you think did it?" Harry paced back and forth, counting off names that had come to him. "Karkaroff's a suspect, right? He was a Death Eater. Maybe someone got to him and forced him to put her name in."

"Harry, stop," dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It doesn't matter -"

"It doesn't matter?" Harry snarled, "What do you mean it doesn't matter? Someone is trying to kill her again!"

His heart was racing like it had that night when he chased Bellatrix Lestrange through the Forbidden Forest. He felt fucking sick. What could he even do to help her? The Tournament banned cheating of all kinds. And she had to participate fully. Forfeitures would result in breaking the magical contract just as well as quitting before she even began.

"Harry," Evan tried, holding her hands out, "please stop."

"How can you be so calm about this?" He rounded on her. "Are you that arrogant that you think it won't be a big deal? You know that some champions were killed by their competitors on the field, and they got away with it? What am I supposed to do all year? Just watch you compete and not do anything if it looks like you might be killed? I can't do that!"

Evan waited for him to take a breath before looking him dead in the eye. "I did put my name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry."

Their dad let out a long groan through his teeth. "Oh, Evan..."

All of Harry's adrenaline rushed out of him in a blink. He couldn't even respond.

His sister smiled, closed-mouth. Her eyes were sad, but he could tell that she wasn't lying to him.

"I put my name in," she repeated. She was holding him by the shoulders. "I didn't know that it would work, but I did do it."

He blinked at her. "But - how?"

She pulled a necklace out from her robes. "Aging amulet." She held it up so the crystal glinted in the light. "Very expensive."

"And illegal," dad stressed, summoning it out of her hands. "Damn it, Evan! Did you even think, for one second, what this would do to us? To your family?"

Evan whirled around, "Are you more worried about your reputation dad?"

"Of course not! I'm worried about you!"

"But it looks like you helped her," Harry put together. He didn't recognize the sound of his voice. "How else did she get that thing?"

"Exactly," dad breathed, so furious that he couldn't even raise his voice. "On top of you competing in this Tournament that will do its damndest to hurt you, you've made it impossible for me to help you. I'll be scrutinized every second of the day. If it looks like I'm helping you cheat, the Ministry might even take me out of the school and then I really can't help! What were you thinking?"

For a moment Evan said nothing. Her back was to him, and he watched the way her shoulders strained as she struggled to answer him.

"I wanted to prove I could do it," she whispered, turning her face down, almost like she was cringing away from Harry. "I wanted to prove that I don't need to be saved."

The silence turned brittle. Over Evan's shoulder, Harry could see their dad's expression circle from angry, to incredulous, to sympathetic, and finally, to something bordering on forgiveness. An angry kind of forgiveness, but it was there.

Harry wasn't there yet, though.

"Harry, wait!" Evan's voice chased after him as he stalked out of the room, but when he slammed the door behind him, the echoing BANG drowned her out.

---

Quick footsteps echoed across the Astronomy Tower. Slowed.

Stopped.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry sighed into his knees. Theo leaned around the post obscuring him from view. "I'm here, too, Professor."

"Rather close to the edge, aren't you?"

"We flew up here," Theo said apologetically. "We just needed a break."

Professor Black was silent for a moment. "I'm surprised that you would come up here," he said. After what happened last year hung in the air between them.

Harry shrugged. "You were lying to Lestrange, weren't you? You're not on their side. Otherwise you would have just killed us."

"That is not a terribly convincing position, Mr. Potter," his Professor said reproachfully.

Finally, Harry uncurled and swiveled around, letting one leg hang off the edge of the tower. "You're Sirius's brother. That's my position," he said, looking the wizard in the eye. Even though they were so different, it was impossible not to see Sirius in him now. their hair, their noses, even the way they seemed to own every room they walked in.

Professor Black looked surprised. The expression was muted on him, as all things were, but it still made Harry feel like he was right to trust the man. Even after last year.

Then Black did something that Harry never expected. He crossed the observation deck and sat next to him, dangling his legs off the edge as well.

"Siblings are more trouble than they're worth," he sighed. From within his robes, he withdrew a white box of cigarettes. "Don't tattle on me to your dad," he warned, giving Harry a sharp look. "Or Sirius. He thinks I've quit."

Harry stole a look at Theo, who seemed as stunned and as excited as Harry felt. Both of them had long admired Professor Black, for many reasons, but they never even dreamed that something like this could happen.

"I'm not your Professor right now," Black said, reading their expressions in a flash. He was frowning at them. "I'm on a break."

"A...break?"

"Can you even fathom the nightmare of living where you work?" Black's silver eyes looked haunted, "Of course you can't. I hope neither of you ever experience this hell."

"Then why do you work here?" Theo asked curiously. "It's not like you need the money."

Black puffed out a perfect ring of smoke. "You two are incredibly sharp. I'm sure you can figure it out."

Harry groaned and flopped on his back. His head was pounding. He didn't want to think about Voldemort or Regulus Black being a spy for Dumbledore, not when the first task was nearly upon them. He still wasn't able to speak to Evan for more than a minute at a time before rage and hurt overwhelmed him, but he knew he had to get over it fast.

"If I jump into the task to save her life, will I go to Azkaban?" He asked dully.

"Albus won't let anyone die," Black said with utter certainty. "These tasks are under control - as much as they can be controlled, anyway."

"She wanted it, Harry," Theo said for the hundredth time. This had been his position from the very beginning, but this time Harry thought he might be ready to really listen. "She put her name in, she had her reasons, it's her trial that she chose to go through. She doesn't want you to save her because she wants to save herself, I'm just repeating her own words. You're not a bad person for stepping back and letting her figure it out on her own."

"Tell that to my parents," Harry groaned.

"I'll tell your parents more than that," Theo muttered.

Harry smiled, trying to let the nervous energy spill out of him. "It's just that...that's my whole purpose, you know? In life?" He drummed his fingers on his stomach.

"It's not." Theo's voice was tense and flat. "You have a life that's just as important as Evan's."

Harry heard Black hum in agreement. He closed his eyes and felt the fight drain out of him. Theo was right. His friends were all right. He had to let this responsibility go, just this one time. Evan got what she wanted, and he needed to let her go.

Black tapped ash over the edge of the tower and scratched his chin. "You two should be worrying about who you're going to ask to the Yule Ball, instead of this."

Harry sat up. "The Yule Ball?"

Theo groaned, "I thought we wouldn't have to go."

"Why did you think you were told to bring dress robes?"

Harry had completely forgotten about that mandate. "Do you have to take someone?" He gasped, "oh, shit. Theo, I haven't danced since the Patil's tenth birthday party! I don't remember how!"

"McGonagall's going to organize mandatory lessons." Black coughed in a poor attempt to cover up his laughter. "So you can refresh your steps."

---

Evan aced the first task. Even in the face of the most fearsome dragon of the lot, the Hungarian Horntail, she flew circles around it and swiped the golden egg easily from its clutches.

Harry hated that part of him was proud of her.

The feeling didn't last, though.

"She WHAT?"

Draco pulled the pillow over his head, squishing it down around his face. "Don't make me say it again," he whined. "Just shut up, Harry!"

"What is happening?" Blaise asked, as he and Theo filtered into their dorm.

Daphne, who was sitting across Draco's bed and rubbing his shoulders, gave Harry a hard look that clearly said, don't upset him more.

"Evan turned Draco down as her date to the Yule Ball," he said through gritted teeth. "In the rudest way possible."

"What'd she say?"

Harry took the other two off to the side to whisper, "She told him that she'd sooner take the Horntail as her date than him. And then she called out his crush on her that he's had since first year -"

"You fucking traitor!" Draco yelled into the pillow.

"Draco it's obvious to everyone with eyes," Blaise scoffed. "Continue."

"She basically humiliated him and made it seem like he's some kind of hopeless, pathetic leech following her around in an attempt to make her fall in love with. But I thought you guys were friends!"

Draco mumbled incomprehensibly into the pillow.

"Granger and Weasley stood up for him," Daphne translated. "Granger said she's just been in a mood all year, and Draco caught the force of it."

"Getting the top score in the first task isn't good enough for her? Are we sure Evan wasn't switched out with an evil twin?" Theo glanced at Harry, "A different evil twin?"

"Draco, you should go with Hermione," Harry said, trying to think of a date that would get under his sister's skin the most.

Draco mumbled something again.

"She's going with Krum," Daphne repeated. She did a double take, "Wait, what?"

"Take Weasley," Blaise suggested, barely stifling a laugh.

"Yes..." Harry nodded, "That could work."

"Harry, my father will come to this school and whip me bloody in front of the Great Hall if I take a Weasley," Draco finally tossed the pillow away. He was red in the face, and his blonde hair was in disarray, but at least he wasn't weeping openly like he'd almost been when Harry stumbled into his dorm after class.

"Like he wouldn't if you took Evan?"

Draco made a heartbroken noise, "I don't know! Maybe? I didn't even ask her as a date, I just said it might be fun to go as friends."

"Oh, no," Theo looked horrified. "That never works Draco."

"I know! I don't know what I was thinking. She was just there, and we were paired up in class, and I - I -"

"Will someone get Pansy?" Daphne yelped, "I can't handle a full Malfoy Meltdown on my own!"

Theo volunteered to go find her while the rest of them tried, vainly, to cheer Draco up.

In the end, the Slytherins went as a group. Loosely, they all paired together. Draco and Pansy coordinated their dress robes. Blaise and Daphne looked stunning on each other's arms. Theo took Millie, who had to be convinced by the other girls that it wasn't a joke, and they really did want her to come with them, and once she was on board, Tracey went with Harry.

But in actuality, they broke up into their usual groups immediately, with the exception of Blaise and Daphne, who seemed to have accidentally kindled more than friendly feelings during the pageantry of the ball.

Harry was standing with Theo in the corner to catch a break between songs when someone appeared at his elbow.

"May I have this dance?" Dean Thomas said, smiling at Harry. Directly at Harry.

"Uh..." His heart almost jumped out of his chest. Dean's face softened, becoming a little self-conscious. It was cute.

Dean was one of those people Harry sometimes stared at without meaning to.

Harry's hand moved without his conscious thought. "Sure," he said, feeling his voice strain a little as Dean squeezed his fingers lightly and tugged him along.

Then they were dancing. The Weird Sisters were playing a song he knew very well, so it was easier for him to fall back into what he was just doing with the rest of his friends (though, with considerably less jumping and screaming of the lyrics).

Dean wasn't a very good dancer. Not that Harry was either, but the difference was stark enough that it made him feel more confident.

Then Dean took his hand. The feeling made his heart pound. They interlocked their fingers and danced clumsily together. Sometimes they'd get rather close, and Harry noticed that the Gryffindor's eyes kept fluttering down toward his lips.

They danced together for a while. Frankly, Harry forgot about everything else. The conversation they were having with just looks and touches, and the suggestion of touches, consumed his brain like a wildfire. Was this really happening to him? Had Dean been looking back at Harry all year, when Harry sometimes looked at him?

They ended up slipping outside into the garden of hedges and roses Hagrid grew with the Beauxbatons Headmistress. Ice sculptures decorated the small maze of flowers. They stopped by one of a niffler sitting on top of a pile of gold.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw you didn't come with anyone," Dean said, his voice lowering huskily. His eyes were half-closed and he kept sort of accidentally tumbling into Harry's space.

"Er, well, I sort of came with my friends."

A bit of his hair fell over his face, and Dean reached out to tuck it behind Harry's ear. It was oddly tender, and it made his heart feel like it was about to hammer out of his chest.

"I meant I can't believe nobody specifically asked you." He bit his bottom lip for a second, just long enough to draw Harry's eyes down. "I wanted to ask you."

"You did?" Harry's back was to a hedge. Dean was very close now, one hand resting on his shoulder. Harry could feel it trembling, slightly.

"I thought you'd say no," Dean revealed. His eyes seemed huge. Harry felt his hands go stiff, and he consciously tried to relax them, reaching out to run the back of his finger along Dean's collar.

"I wouldn't have," Harry whispered.

That was all the encouragement Dean needed. He leaned forward and kissed him, keeping his hand very still on Harry's shoulder like he was afraid to move.

His lips were soft, Harry noted. He smelled faintly of cocoa, though that could have been the aromatic chocolate fountain in the Great Hall. It was nice. The kiss made his stomach flip, and now that it was happening he was almost more scared for it to end than he had been for it to happen.

"Oi! Dean! You out there, mate?"

"Ah, shit," Dean pulled back with a very light smack. He hung his head, "Seamus must be ready to leave. There's an afterparty up near Gryffindor." He paused, looking Harry up and down in a way that made his mouth curl with satisfaction. "You want to come?"

Harry shook his head, delighting even more in the way Dean blushed and couldn't seem to meet his eye. "No," he said lowly, "I have plans."

"Alright..." Dean leaned in again, stopped just a hairsbreadth from his mouth. "I guess we'll have to make our own plans."

Before Harry could reply, Seamus called Dean's name again. They kissed once more, briefly, but no less intently, stopping just before what seemed to be some kind of mutual edge. Too shy to touch, too shy to ask for more.

"See you around, Harry," Dean murmured.

And then he was gone.

Harry took some time behind the hedge to compose himself, but it was hard to keep the grin off his face. He'd never had anyone had a crush on him before, not anyone who did anything about it, anyway. And for it to be Dean Thomas? The fit, funny, sardonic Gryffindor that Harry never thought would even consider looking in his direction. Was this real, or a dream?

He started to make his way back into the castle when he spotted a familiar set of pale grey robes, decorated with spinning swirls of sparkling blue and purple. Theo was sitting by the fountain and staring up at the starlit sky.

"Can I sit with you?" Harry asked. Theo moved his hand away in answer, and Harry sat right next to him so their shoulders were almost touching.

Theo stretched one leg out, folding the other so he could rest his cheek against his knee. Gradually, the ringing in Harry's ears subsided. The winter chill felt heavenly after being on the stuffy dance floor for so long.

"I thought you said you'd dance with me?" Harry teased, breaking the silence.

Theo looked up. His eyes were framed by smudged black eyeliner, and his hair was even more tousled than how he'd styled it. He looked like he'd just been snogged within an inch of his life.

Harry's mouth went dry at the thought, mind wandering back to his kiss behind the rose bushes with Dean Thomas. The kiss was still making his stomach do backflips. Maybe that was why he felt so taken aback by Theo's hair and his eyes and his... everything.

"I will," Theo promised. His voice was gravelly. Goosebumps pebbled the backs of Harry's arms. "So long as Thomas isn't the jealous type."

Harry scoffed, "It's not like that."

"No?"

Theo sounded perfectly disinterested, but he was staring at Harry intently, like he wanted a real answer. Harry found that he couldn't reply. His heart was beating very hard in his chest.

"Why not?" Theo's lips curled into a teasing smirk. He narrowed his eyes just slightly, giving Harry a novel view of his eyelashes. Some of them were so blonde they were almost white, dotted intermittently between the brown lashes. Harry had the strong urge to reach out and touch them.

"He's not..." Harry paused, not sure what to say, or even what he was going to say when he started talking. Dean wasn't what? Handsome? Interesting? A good kisser? None of that was true.

But at that moment, he really didn't care what Dean Thomas thought, or might think, about Harry and Theo dancing together.

Theo dropped his gaze. Harry could only be disappointed for a half second, because the act of shaking his head loosened that intoxicating smell of Theo's cologne, which Harry was still obsessed with. I need to ask him where he buys it, he reminded himself for the thousandth time.

Yet, he didn't. He breathed deeply, turning his face into the cold air. He was feeling the chill now, but with Theo right next to him, they managed to keep a spark of warmth between them. Their breath fogged and drifted up, turning into crystalline clouds.

They split the remains of Blaise's contraband firewhiskey and then returned to the Great Hall just in time for the mood to change. The lead singer began to croon into the microphone. The guitarist switched out for a piano. Students began to leave. Other students, and some Professors, slowly circled the dance floor with their partners.

Harry's ears were red at the thought of dancing with Theo like this. He was about to suggest they just go back to the dorm when Theo suddenly stepped in front of him and bowed.

"Heir Potter," he said formally, holding out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Harry bit his cheek but could not stop the uncontrollable giggle that escaped his lips. "Why thank you," he bowed back gracefully and slipped his hand in Theo's.

They had never danced together, not in all the afternoons spent with the girls practicing steps, timing, and turns up in the music hall. Harry wasn't sure what he expected, but nothing could have prepared him for the strong pull from Theo's leading hand and his equally firm but gentle push under Harry's shoulder. They fell into a perfect closed stance, holding just the barest distance held between their chests like a delicate bubble. Harry consciously forced his hand to relax, pushing lightly against Theo's grip, creating tension.

Theo laughed under his breath as they started to move. His breath smelled like whiskey and cinnamon. "Don't scuff my shoes."

"Don't insult me," Harry sniffed, moving in tandem with Theo's lead. Even though he had only learned the follower's steps to better understand his own, he fell into the dance flawlessly because Theo's lead was perfect. His eyes flickered left to right, guiding them smoothly between other couples as they moved around the floor. Harry kept his eyes on him, for once unselfconscious about staring. Theo's jaw looked particularly sharp in the low, romantic light. His nose had a slight bump in the middle, from a very serious break he had as a child. His hair was falling into his face, shadowing his dark blue eyes, and Harry had to resist the urge to push it back.

"Ready?" Theo raised his hand. "Remember to strut."

Harry laughed loudly, earning an annoyed look from some of the other dancers. He swayed his hips and tried to do the exaggerated hand expressions that Pansy did when she did a walk-out turn. When he threw a smoldering look over his shoulder, Theo was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes.

They danced like that for the whole song. Laughing as silently as they could. Performing as many flowery tricks as they could remember. Theo's lead was strong and certain, but the few times he had to put his hands on Harry's waist, or slide his hand down to change position, his fingers were soft and steady. When the last note hummed in the air, Theo surprised him with a quick turn and a low dip. Harry could feel Theo's muscles tense to hold him up, could feel each of his fingertips digging into his skin, and even, for a second, felt the ghost of his breath along Harry's throat.

When they stood up and departed the hall, laughing and joking around like usual, Harry could still feel them, Theo's touches. They haunted him all the way back to the dorm, to the shower, to his bed.

That night, when he was falling asleep, he curled his left hand up under his chin and smiled.

---

Things got weird between Harry and Theo after the Yule Ball.

He didn't intend for there to be strangeness. After all, it's not like they went together, or even with anyone else. The one and only dance that they shared had been fun and full of laughter. It shouldn't have made everything awkward.

And yet, the morning after, Dean Thomas came to the Slytherin table and asked Harry if he'd like to go out on the next Hogsmeade weekend together. It made Harry's stomach erupt into butterflies and Harry said yes, because of course he did, it was Dean Thomas, for Merlin's sake. But after the Gryffindor left he noted that Theo's face seemed to turn to stone.

Harry dismissed it at the time. Theo was famously not a morning person. But looking back, Harry knew now that it was the first sign of trouble.

As the date approached, Theo seemed to fall into a foul mood every time they were anywhere but the Slytherin Common Room. Harry connected the dots easily that it was because of Dean. Every time he saw Harry, he went out of his way to drift over and flirt. In the moment, Harry was so swept away by the attention that he never knew when, exactly, Theo lost his patience. Was it because of Dean in general, or because of his banter (which, Harry would admit, could be very over-the-top), or because Dean had started doing this very flattering but also embarrassing pageantry of kissing Harry's cheek whenever he left?

He didn't know, and also, how was he supposed to ask about it? He already knew that Theo hated when Harry broke off their plans, but was he just supposed to ask, 'Sorry, were we going to do something next weekend that I forgot about?' That didn't seem very smart. Harry searched his planner and all the scraps on their shared desk and he was certain they hadn't explicitly made plans for the next Hogsmeade weekend, but it still felt like he had done something wrong.

That Saturday, Theo was gone before Harry even got out of bed.

"Is Theo upset with me about something specific?" Harry asked Blaise.

Blaise, who was a great relationship advisor until he wasn't, just gave Harry a pitying look and said, "Just have fun on your date, Harry."

Dean Thomas was funny, and charming. He knew enough about both muggle and magical worlds that he could appreciate Harry's stories about life in Badger's Mount with his godfather. He liked Quidditch enough to carry a conversation with Harry, which was tough because he knew so many obscure facts about obscure teams that went over most people's heads. But Dean was the same way about football, so Harry listened to him prattle on about that as well. They balanced each other out, in that respect.

But Harry learned pretty quickly that Dean Thomas was an insistent and outrageous kisser, and hugger, and hand-holder. Harry had to actually duck the fourth attempt at a kiss in just the first hour.

"There's lots of - people around," Harry explained haltingly, although that was not really why he was doing it. He didn't like the feeling of other people looking at him. Didn't like the spectacle of it. It felt like Dean was trying to show him off, as if Harry were some kind of prize.

"So?" Dean's eyes were dark-dark brown, like burned caramel. It had been enticing in the rose garden, but now his eyes seemed cutting, almost critical. "I thought you'd be used to that, being a Potter and all."

"You're confusing me with my sister," Harry deadpanned. "Easy to do with my long hair, I know."

Dean's smile widened, and before he could do anything he darted in for a kiss again. "I know you're not your sister," he said slyly.

Despite his tendency for physical affection, Dean was fun and lovely to be with. He laughed at all of Harry's jokes. He wanted to work in either the Magical Games office or perhaps in Transportation, depending on how things shook out. He was considerate and sometimes very romantic, like when he tied his Gryffindor scarf around Harry's neck.

But after about three weeks, Harry discovered that there was one glaring problem with Dean Thomas.

"Alright, pup, I've got Remus here," Sirius said. He was sitting at the kitchen table. Remus was almost invisible behind a stack of boxes.

"Hi Harry," he smiled tiredly, scooting over to lean on Sirius's shoulder. "How are you?"

"He needs relationship advice."

Remus's eyebrows shot, "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"Exactly what I said!"

"It's not that serious." Harry covered his face, "Honestly, you don't have to bring Remus into this."

"Oh, Merlin, you do not want to take advice from him," Remus said quickly. "Trust me. You know how long it took me to figure out that he thought we were dating? Mind you, I didn't know he thought we were dating."

Sirius turned bright red, a color Harry had never seen on him before. "Moony! Come on now, don't -"

"A year," Remus deadpanned, giving Sirius a sideways glare. "A whole fucking year, Harry. So you very much do want my advice, else you might end up in the same situation."

Sirius whined, "You're so mean."

Harry summed up his relationship with Dean for them, though part of him hesitated to call it a relationship. They really didn't do much talking, not about anything real, at least. He still didn't know about Dean's family, or other things he thought might be essential to having a boyfriend, like his favorite color or his least favorite food.

"So, why are you still seeing him?" Remus asked bluntly, "It sounds like you don't even see each other much."

Harry's face flushed, "Uhm, well..."

"Ooooh, I see," Remus looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. "You spend time together, just not talking."

"It's not really like that," Harry said, glancing around his enclosed curtains even though he knew the silencing ward was up. "We don't - we're not - it's just -"

"Take a deep breath, Harry, we're not judging you," Sirius drawled, elbowing his husband none-too-subtly.

"This is the part I want to ask you about." Harry couldn't even look at the mirror. He hoped it was dark enough on his side that they couldn't see how mortified he felt. "He just like...or rather, I get this feeling when we're kissing sometimes that I just...that I hate it?" He stopped and swallowed. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It comes out of nowhere."

"You...hate it?" Sirius repeated slowly. "Can you give us an example?"

Harry had to clear his throat. "Today, for example, uhm...he was - we were, er, cuddling. Close. I guess. Nothing too untoward, but then when he - he was touching me - above the belt," he felt it was important to stress that, "it like, filled me with disgust all of a sudden. Like I didn't want him to touch me, but he really wasn't doing anything wrong. It just felt like - like too much in that moment. But then I thought, we've been, er, together a lot over the last several weeks and maybe he's...maybe it shouldn't be too much, at this point. Right? How do I, like, know?"

There was a moment of silence that went on for so long that Harry stole a glance at the mirror. Sirius looked thoughtful. Remus, however, had a stormy expression.

"Did you tell him you weren't comfortable?"

Harry looked at him, "No, like I said, it wasn't anything too intense it was just - it was just me in that moment, not him."

"Well, Harry -" Sirius began.

"You can stop at any time," Remus leaned closer to the mirror, cutting his husband off. "If you feel overwhelmed, or unsure, or want to stop, you don't have to continue something that you don't feel good about." He paused. "In those kinds of situations, Harry, all that really matters is your gut instinct. If something is telling you no, even if you don't understand it, you should listen. There's no amount of logical thinking afterwards that can explain it."

"Usually," Sirius added. "He's right, Harry, but I mean, you might also just feel nervous because you don't know him very well. I mean, typically you do this sort of stuff with someone you really trust."

"Until you get old and jaded," Remus muttered under his breath. Sirius elbowed him again.

"Yeah..." Harry thought that sounded right. "I'm still not sure if he actually likes me, you know. Me, not Harry Potter." He smiled sardonically, "I think I've learned I don't like public displays of affection."

"He's putting his hands on you in public?" Sirius yelped.

"What? No!" The idea of making out with Dean in the crowded Three Broomsticks did seem like something Dean wouldn't be opposed to, though. "We hold hands."

"Oh," Sirius visibly relaxed. "That's normal."

"And he kisses me a lot. Without me, er, I mean he just does it. Sometimes when I'm in the middle of talking."

Harry observed their reaction. This was becoming a more fruitful call than he expected, because he was learning that all of the little things that bothered him may, in fact, be worth being bothered about.

"What does Theo think?"

Harry shook his head in answer to Remus's question. "I don't talk to him about Dean."

"Why not?" Sirius's face morphed into this strange, secretive smirk that Harry didn't understand. "If Dean's that open about it then he must know."

"Oh, he knows." Harry described the events of the Yule Ball to them. "I think maybe he just doesn't like Dean," he finished.

Remus started coughing and had to stand up and walk away. Sirius turned his head so half his face was cut off. "Yeah, pup," he agreed. "I'm sure that's it."

He was about to stutter some excuse to end their conversation when Sirius pulled back around. "Hey, Harry, I have a favor to ask you."

"Sure, anything." Harry grimaced, especially after that conversation.

"Would you mind letting Regulus borrow the Marauder's Map for a bit?"

"Won't he just confiscate it?"

"Reggie's no narc," Sirius waved his concern away. "He's going mad trying to figure out who is breaking into his office when he's not there. I told him it's probably just some alchemical metals getting lodged in his eyes and making him forget where he left things, but he's sure that someone, somehow, is sneaking in there. So, I figure if you let him keep the map for a short while, he'll either catch them or realize I'm right."

Harry nodded, trying to hide his reluctance. The map was dead useful for planning his trips around the castle without encountering his dad. But also, he liked Professor Black a lot, and the thought that this might put him in his favor excited him.

"Sure," he agreed, "I'll bring it up."

"Thanks. And start thinking about your payment, I told him the map won't come for free."

Harry thought for a second. "Would he...ever have dinner with us in the summer?"

Sirius grinned widely, "Oh yes pup," he cackled. "A godson after my own heart. You don't know the pain I go through trying to get that idiot to have dinner with us."

"Who?"

"Reggie."

Remus popped up in the mirror again, his face distinctly more red than it had been. "Harry, if you can convince Regulus to come to our house, you'll be an actual angel. A miracle-maker."

"Well, if it's that hard maybe I won't ask for it."

"No, no," Sirius was laughing with glee, "when you ask him, just be sure to turn on the puppy dog eyes, like you did for me when I almost got you that literal puppy."

"I will get you a puppy if Regulus comes here," Remus promised. "Good luck, Harry."

---

Harry broke up with Dean after the next heavy-handed makeout. He'd had enough.

"Look, this isn't working," Harry said, with finality. Dean had been arguing with him for close to ten minutes. "I just don't like you as much as you like me, and I never will. Okay?"

He wasn't surprised to have half of the fourth-year Gryffindors glaring at him that week. Conversely, when he sat at the Slytherin table and made the announcement to his friends, Blaise shot both fists into the air and cried, "Hallelujah!"

"Harry, he was not right for you," Pansy agreed. "You're too expensive."

"What?"

"She means he wasn't good enough for you," Theo translated. For the first time in weeks, he turned towards Harry and smiled crookedly. "Thank our stars you figured that out for yourself."

"He's not bad!" Harry disagreed, trying to get ahead of any rumors that he'd broken up with Dean because he thought the muggleborn was beneath him. (Just what he needed his dad to hear). "He's perfectly nice. We're just not...compatible."

"Uh-huh," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Any of us could have told you that."

Harry began to turn beet red, "So, what, do I have to ask for the group's opinion before I date anyone else?"

"Do you have any other suitors on the line?" Blaise leaned forward, his gaze cutting through him. "Who? We need to vet these people, Harry, at the very least."

"N-no one!" His voice sounded shrill and he forced himself to take a deep breath. "I'm over it. I'm done dating. It was hell. I'd much rather be hanging out with you guys."

"Mr. Potter..." Harry flinched and whipped around to find Severus and his father standing behind them. "Please come join us in my office in ten minutes."

"What could they possibly want?" Harry hissed to his best friend when they were gone.

"Maybe they also want a list of suitors."

Harry turned and glared at Theo, but he looked so happy that a smile pulled at Harry's mouth as well. "Git," he said fondly. "I better eat before I go."

As it turned out, he was needed because he'd been selected as the person who Evan would most sorely miss for the second task. Harry would have to wake early in the morning the next day so they could take him to the lake and give him a potion to keep him safely in stasis while drifting at the bottom of the Black Lake.

Harry glanced at his father. "Seems like an awfully good time to murder both the Potter kids, huh?"

His dad scowled a little, but didn't disagree. "My fear is that someone might try to take you, or both of you."

"The Merpeople would not let that happen," Severus drawled, rolling his eye. "Pity the fool that does try to interfere with this task. They might end up finishing what the dementors could not..."

"Wouldn't that be a shame," his dad grunted. Both men stilled as they seemed to realize they'd agreed with each other.

"So...I should meet you at the Headmaster's office?" Harry clarified.

"Yes," Severus and his dad said at once. Severus looked physically pained. His dad groaned and started to walk away.

"I'll be with you the whole time, Harry," his dad said. "Don't worry."

Harry wasn't worried, but not for that reason. Severus was the one making the potion, so he knew he'd be safe.

---

Evan stopped in the middle of the road, getting her bearings. It was hard to travel Hogsmeade under the invisibility cloak because no one knew not to move through her. It was a lot like playing Quidditch, actually, except if anyone ran into her in this context and figured out who she was, her parents would die.

Focus.

She found the cross street and hurried down it, careful not to move too fast so no one saw her feet under the cloak. At the old, broken-down haberdashery she turned left into the alley and then knocked three times on the wooden door.

It clicked open.

She pushed inside and made her way down the familiar, dank hallways to the basement, where Bellatrix Lestrange was waiting for her.

"Here she is," the witch smiled widely. As always, Evan shivered. Bellatrix had a monstrous quality that was especially dreadful when locked in a basement with her. Let's make this quick.

She deposited a few pieces of parchment in front of the Death Eater, who looked down at them with a disappointed scowl. "That's all he had on his desk."

Bellatrix sorted through the paltry letters with disinterest. Evan already knew what they said, and none of them were interesting. One rejection for an article sent to Astronomer's Quarterly, one letter from Gringotts confirming an annual appointment, a few notes from other Professors about problems with certain students, and that was it.

That was all she brought, anyway.

"Sit down, love," Bellatrix waved her hand at the chair across from her. Her nails were black and her fingers clinked with various rings. "You came all this way, after all."

Evan knew better than to argue. Six times she'd met Bellatrix Lestrange this year, and each time she learned to bite her tongue a little longer. She wasn't keen on experiencing the cruciatus curse again.

"So, tell me what you've learned."

"They still suspect Regulus," she said, meaning her father. "I listened to my father's report last week, and he's convinced that Regulus will make a move during the third task."

"Tsk, tsk," Bellatrix frowned at her, "didn't do a very good job convincing them you wanted to enter the Tournament, did you?"

There was a threatening note to her voice that made her stomach churn. "No," she said meekly, glaring a hole into the table. "I guess not."

"Don't be getting cold feet, my love." She reached across the table and folded her hand over Evan's. Her nails pricked her skin, like claws. "You're so close! So close to the end, to meeting the Dark Lord and putting this to rest once and for all."

Evan swallowed, feeling tears flood her eyes. She hated that Bellatrix could do this to her every time. No amount of workouts, or flying, or dueling, or meditating before she came here on Hogsmeade weekends could stop her from feeling torn apart by this woman. It was always something, and this time, it was the hopelessness of it all.

"Has the little lion lost its fight?" Bellatrix crooned softly, moving her chair closer.

Evan kept her eyes down low. "I'm doing what you say," she said, stubbornly fighting through the wobble of her voice. "I told you already, I'll fight him at the end. Then you'll see."

Bellatrix screeched with mad laughter, tipping her chair back and nearly yanking Evan into her lap. "You'll see, you'll see!" She parroted in a sing-song voice. She suddenly pulled Evan even closer, forcing her to her knees and gripping under her chin with her other clawed hand. "I've told my Lord about your arrogance. Keep it up, and he might just keep you alive for a long while yet."

She let her go and Evan fell back, scrambling to her feet. Bellatrix was still cackling loudly when the door opened yet again.

"Barty, Barty, Barty," she sighed and fanned her face with the letters. "Our little spy has no news for us, once again."

The thin, dangerous looking wizard glared at her. His eyes were almost like black holes on his face, as if he'd already been kissed by dementors. Evan had nightmares about him regularly, although he'd never actually hurt her.

"What a disappointment." Barty Crouch Jr. curled his lip, "Perhaps you're not motivated enough."

"Maybe, maybe!"

"No," Evan gulped and shook her head anxiously, "no, don't do anything. I can get more information. I can - I can break into my father's office. Maybe he'll have -"

"I don't want to know about your father's investigations," Crouch took two steps to loom over her. She fought the urge to pull out her wand. "I want to know what Regulus Black is doing every hour of every day. I want to know who he associates with, who his favorite students are, who he hates among the faculty, and - most importantly - where he lives." He leaned down so his breath ghosted over her face. "Do you understand?"

This was worse than Bellatrix's torture spell. "Yes," she squeaked out, fighting every cell in her body that was telling her to gouge this man's soulless eyes out and run for her life.

"Go on, then," Bellatrix clapped her hands, "chop chop! Get us some information we can use! You only have a few more months left to live, darling." Her smile sharpened, "Best be quick about it. I'd call this visit an abject failure." Evan stopped breathing, her eyes widening helplessly. "But if you find us something really tasty that we can sink our teeth into, then I don't think we'll have to punish anyone. Right, Barty?"

He looked down at her over his nose. "It will have to be very good information."

"Go on, now!" Bellatrix waved her off.

Evan tip-toed back into the street and made straight for the edge of Hogsmeade, heading for the Shrieking Shack. Once inside, she tore her invisibility cloak off, cast the privacy ward she'd learned for exactly this reason, and screamed for as loud and as long as she could until her chest ached and her stomach was heaving.

"It's either me, or them," she said shakily, wiping her nose. From her pocket she withdrew a watch her mum gave her that hung on a long chain. It had several faces and tracked various kinds of cycles that were all useful for magic, but what Evan was looking at was the inside of the cover. She'd glued in a picture of her mother and father, and another picture of her and Harry together, so she could look at them at any time.

"Me, or them," she repeated, feeling her heartrate return to normal. "Me or them."

---

On the day of the final task, Harry and his parents joined the other families of the Champions to see them off before they left the castle. It was strange to be in the Great Hall with so few people, and their voices echoed in the vast space. Each of them sat at a table, and for the first time in a few years, Harry found himself on the Gryffindor side.

Oh, what might have been, he thought wryly. He and his dad sat on one side, while their mum had Evan wrapped up in her arms. She hadn't been able to take her hands off of Evan since she saw her.

"And if an acromantula races towards you, you'll -"

"Transfigure the ground into ice and then blast it onto its back, where I can hit its sensitive bits." Evan groaned, "Come on, dad, we've been practicing for months. Let's just hang out. Talk about other things."

There was a moment of awkward silence. "Like...what?" Dad said, looking bewildered.

Mum laughed and stroked Evan's hair. It was shiny and black, much smoother and straighter than Harry's ever was, even as long as it was now.

"How about we talk about what we're gonna do this summer?" Evan popped a strawberry in her mouth that mum brought from the greenhouse. "I was thinking it'd be nice to build an obstacle course to fly through. We've got a lot of catching up to do after a year of no quidditch."

"Don't remind me," Harry said under his breath.

"It won't be very useful for you by yourself," she said, tipping her eyes up like she was thinking out loud. "If Theo comes then we could practice maneuvering, so long as you don't mind exposing some Slytherin secrets."

Harry arched his eyebrows at her, "As if you don't already watch us through binoculars."

Evan smirked, but her green eyes flickered toward their dad. "Seriously, Theo needs to be able to come over this summer. It's ridiculous that his mum has been to our house several times, but not him."

"That was over a year ago," dad defended weakly. "Before -"

"Yeah, before," Evan's face hardened and she gave their dad a look Harry had never seen on her face before. It was almost contempt. "And now that things are getting dangerous, don't you think Harry's best friend might need somewhere safe to go if things go tits up for him?"

"If Theo ever ran away he would never come to our house," he snorted without thinking.

"Sure he would, he'd come right to you," Evan disagreed.

"Yeah but I wouldn't -" he stumbled over his next words, "I wouldn't have him stay in our house."

"Why not?" Mum asked, giving him a funny look.

Harry felt his dad tense up next to him. "He can't get in, for one," Harry pointed out. Their wards were devilishly complex, it was basically impossible for anyone to just drop by without express invitation. "For two, it's incredibly obvious that that's where he'd be, and I assume in that kind of situation he'd be on the run."

Evan shrugged, "It's more the principle of the thing, for me. He's your best friend, he's saved your life, and mine. He should be allowed over to the house." She lifted her eyes to their dad, challenging him. "Right?"

"Right," he agreed faintly. Mum bit her cheek, but Harry could see that she was smiling.

Then, Headmaster Dumbledore announced that it was time for the Champions to head to the field.

"Ready?" Mum didn't wait for an answer, she just kissed the top of Evan's head and stood with her. "Evangeline, just do everything in your power to make it to the end safe and sound. Okay?"

She nodded. Evan had lost all her color. "Okay."

Outside the doors, the Champions hugged their families goodbye. Bagman and the Headmasters and Headmistress were waiting in front of the outside doors to escort the four students to the field. Harry could hear the faint sound of music and laughter already, and a steady stream of students moved past them, pointing and whispering, as they, too, made their way out.

Evan hugged their parents for a long time, but when it came to Harry, she hugged him for the longest. They fit together perfectly - still the same height, same build. And Harry knew exactly how Evan liked to be hugged, which was a distinction one could only earn from knowing her for as long as he had. He folded his arms across her back and buried his face in the crook of her neck, while she did the same to him.

"You're stronger than all three of them put together," he told her. "You can win this whole thing, if you're smart."

She nodded and sniffed.

"I'll see you after, yeah?"

Evan's arms twitched around his shoulders, and for a second he thought she might be about to cry. That wasn't typical for Evan, but maybe it was the stress of everything, or the guilt over what a wretched year of fighting they'd had.

"I - yeah," she murmured, breaking away and avoiding eye contact. "I'll see you after."

She took a deep breath and turned away, following the rest of the Champions out of Hogwarts, while Harry just stood there and tried to piece together what just happened.

"What?" His mum asked, coming up behind him to put her arm around his shoulders.

"Nothing," he said quickly, still reeling. "Should we go?"

Mum sighed tightly, "Yes, let's do that."

Theo pushed through the crowd to join him not long after they'd arrived in the stands. "This is something," he said, gesturing to the tall hedge maze. "They should leave it in and let us do our defense final in it."

"Did you hear that, honey?" Mum said slyly to his dad, "Theo's had a great idea for your class."

"I'll just have them do an open-book exam," dad said distractedly, his head turning as he tracked the crowd. "Where's Black?"

"There's got to be more than a thousand people here," mum sighed. "I'm not surprised you can't see him."

"He's been acting strange," dad muttered, almost too faintly for Harry to overhear. "He seemed nervous about something. He was convinced there was someone breaking into his room, but there wasn't a single trace of a break in that I could find. I told him it was probably a student pranking him during his office hours, but he said they'd have to be a ghost, because he was always present when the door was open."

"They're still suspicious of him, hm?" Theo whispered in Harry's ear.

Harry wasn't listening. With that one final comment, he'd put it together.

"I have to see Evan," he announced.

"Harry!"

"I'll get him. Hey - Harry!"

He vaulted through the crowd, slipping through every gap as fast as he could until he could sneak under the stands themselves and start climbing down to the ground. He hit the grass and started running, checking his watch at the same time.

The Champion's tent was aligned with Hufflepuff's locker room, so there was a private way in and out. He found their door and pushed his way in, interrupting a speech by Ludo Bagman.

"Evan!" Harry snapped, with the full force of his authority. "What are you doing?"

"No one is allowed back here except the Champions!" Bagman complained. "Dumbledore, get him out of here! He's ruined my whole speech."

"I got him," his dad said, taking him by the elbow. "Now really isn't the time -"

He ripped his arm from his grip and advanced on his sister. She got up, dressed in her red and black sport suit. She didn't look angry with him, though. She looked resigned.

"Get out of here, Harry," she growled.

"Harry," Dumbledore tried, "whatever this is can wait."

He scoffed and flicked his wrist, drawing a circle with his wand in the same motion. "Taculla."

A bubble formed around them, one that would keep all their words inside it silent, but still allow them to hear what was going on.

"He could be giving her information about the maze!" Karkaroff cried indignantly.

"Harry!"

"Drop out of the competition," Harry demanded, staring into her eyes. His sister's green gaze was alight with frustration.

"I'll lose my magic," she said, steadily.

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. She wasn't fighting him like she would be if he was wrong. She was just looking back at him with an unwavering determination that frightened him to his core, and at the same time made him want to get on his knees and scream.

Because Harry was just sensing that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong at the beginning of the year. He'd known it then, but he hadn't done anything about it, because he'd been too stupid to realize that even though Evan was telling him the truth about putting her name in the Goblet of Fire, it was not the truth that was just under the surface.

"Is that worse than what's about to happen to you?" He said.

Evan just stared silently back at him as the bubble came down.

"Come on," his dad said impatiently, gripping him more firmly this time. "They'll want me to arrest you, at this rate."

Harry tried to twist out of his arms to look at her as they left, but Bagman conjured a glittering green curtain, and his last chance to save her slipped from his grasp just like that.

"Do you ever think?" Dad said scornfully, pushing him out of the locker room. "What was that, Harry?"

Black. I need Professor Black.

He turned and started walking straight back to the castle.

"HARRY POTTER!" Dad yelled, freezing his feet in the grass and furiously stalking in front of him. "Have you lost your mind? You don't get to walk away from me just because you like to pretend we're not even related."

"Let go of me," he said calmly, shifting his feet. They were getting cold.

"No, you explain to me what you were doing."

Harry sighed impatiently, "Can you stop this?" He gestured at the stands. Already they could hear the horns sounding. The crowd's cheers lifted to an insane peak, loud enough to almost drown out his dad's voice.

"I would have stopped it at the very beginning if I could have!" His dad shouted. "We can't control this Harry, she has to compete!"

That was the thing that Harry wasn't understanding. Why make Evan compete? Somehow, she thought that Harry wasn't going to see her at the end, but they were in an enclosed Quidditch pitch inside Hogwarts. She couldn't be apparated out. She probably wouldn't die in the maze from one of the creatures.

There was something he was missing. Something between her going in and the end of the tournament. Something he'd lost his chance to figure out.

His dad was still ranting at him. "I know you spent all this time with Sirius and now you're more enamored with him than you are with me, but I'm still your father, Harry, and Evan is my daughter as much as she is your sister, so if there is something going on -"

"There is!" He snapped, tearing his feet out of the grass. His dad was really losing it if he hadn't noticed Harry quietly melting the ice this whole time. "There is something going on! Evan lied to me. She lied to me right in the Great Hall, before she came out here. She said she'd see me after the match, but she lied."

His dad looked at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was crazy.

"And right now, I asked her to break the contract!" Harry shook chunks of ice off his boots. "I asked her if giving up her magic was worse than what she was about to face and she didn't answer me because the answer would have been no."

"Harry," his dad lifted his hands placatingly. "Calm down."

A resounding boom echoed through the air. The champions were entering the maze.

"I knew that someone was trying to kill her at the beginning of the year," he pointed accusingly at his father. "And you just said that someone's been sneaking into Black's office to steal from him, right?"

Dad nodded. His expression had changed from anger to puzzlement. "What does that have to do with her?"

"Well, only someone invisible would be able to sneak into his office when he's right there, wouldn't they?"

He could see the moment it landed for his father. His face went slack, and then white. He whipped around and seemed to realize it was too late.

"Fuck! Harry," he looked over his shoulder. "Go back to the stands. Go tell your mother what's going on and tell her to find me. I'm going to talk to Albus." He stared at him, "Swear to me that you'll do that."

Harry grit his teeth. What could he really do?

"I swear," he said, dropping his shoulders.

His dad hurried away, disappearing through the Hufflepuff locker room door in an instant.

Theo slunk out from under the stands where he'd been hiding and dried Harry's shoes with a wave of his wand. "Where are we really going?" He asked.

Harry turned to face the castle. His mind was a blur with different ideas and plans, but there was really only one thing that might save Evan right now, and that was information.

"Gryffindor Tower."

---

They broke in with ease because Evan had never broken her habit of giving Harry the password to her common room in all the years they'd been at Hogwarts.

It was getting up to the girl's dorm that was the problem.

"This whole slide is fucking ridiculous," Theo snarled, after nearly half an hour of frustration. "Also, offensive. What if a girl came over to the boy's side with something nefarious in mind?"

"Yeah it should be on invitation, just like the Slytherin dorms," Harry grunted, trying, and failing, to get his hands and feet sticky enough to climb up the wall.

"You can go up by invitation."

Harry and Theo whipped around at the same time, wands held high, only to find Harry's mum standing with her arms crossed.

"Mum!"

She shook her head and stepped up to the staircase. "Follow after me."

This time the stairs let them pass.

Mum counted under her breath as they ascended, until they found the fourth door up. "The rooms move from floor to floor in accordance with your year," she shared, opening Evan's dormroom. "Now, tell me what we're doing here Harry."

Unsure of what his father may or may not have told her, he started at the beginning. His misgivings about her having really put her name in the Goblet, the stories about Black's room being broken into by somebody no one, not even an auror or the Marauder's Map, could catch.

"But why would Evan sneak inside?" Theo asked, furrowing his brow. "What was she stealing? It doesn't make sense."

Mum shifted nervously, her eyes darting between them. "Your father...has had some thefts recently too," she murmured. "And there have been tip-offs about cases he discussed inside his office, with Tonks, and Kingsley."

Harry dragged his fingers down his face. "It must be connected to Bellatrix, somehow. But mum, that's not the worst part. For some reason, Evan is convinced she's not coming back from the end of this Tournament."

She stiffened, her eyes stretching wide. "What?"

When he explained her odd behavior, especially the way she reacted to him in the locker room, his mother's entire demeanor changed. A black fury passed over her face, and the windows shook from the force of her magic. She turned to Evan's bed, gripping her wand so hard white sparks shot out of it.

"Theo, you search her wardrobe. Harry, start on the trunk. I'll start scanning her bed. If there's any record of what she's doing or who she was involved with, we'll find it."

They moved immediately. Harry started tearing through Evan's trunk, shaking books out, sorting through her pockets, checking in every purse and bag he found.

Mum gasped. He and Theo turned to see her waving her wand to reveal a small stack of envelopes floating above her bed. Her brow creased as she worked her magic to undo the spell, dropping them all on the bed in a flutter of paper.

Harry saw his name on one.

He summoned it without even saying the spell. He didn't feel like he was in his body. He clenched his wand tight in his hand and peeled the envelope back, floating the neatly folded parchment pages out.

Dear Harry, it began. If you're reading this then I'm already gone.

His mum choked. "No," she whispered, eyes flying across her pages. "No, no, no, no, no."

She crushed the parchment in her hand and raised her wand. Her hair was flying around her head, her green eyes burning with magic. "Expect-"

A shadow moved out of the corner of his eye. Harry looked, but not fast enough to see before his mum changed the spell.

There was a flash of light, and then the smell of ozone permeated the room.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he heard a man whimper.

And then there was a terrible, ear-splitting BOOM and the room exploded with light and sound and pressure. Harry was unconscious before he even hit the wall.

---

Theo woke slowly. Everything hurt. His jaw and throat felt wet, and at first he had the insane thought that the lower part of his face had been ripped off, but then when he touched it he felt his mouth and chin, right where they should be. He just couldn't feel them.

"Th't can' be g'd," he slurred, rolling up on his elbow. The room tilted dizzyingly and he had to stop to take some deep breaths. In, out, in, out, in, out.

Gradually, his vision came into focus.

"Oh, no," he whispered, blinking dumbly at the wreckage. Everything was destroyed. Half of the wall was gone, showing just pretty blue sky and the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.

Theo got to his knees, groaning loudly as sharp pain shot down his calf. His head was definitely not right. He tried to shuffle forward, felt his stomach revolt, and promptly vomited off to the side.

He heaved for a second, trying to catch a breath. Then he heard someone groan.

"Theo..."

"Harry?" He crawled through the wreckage. Harry was a lot farther away than he had been, almost clear across the room.

He was only half way when he heard Harry say, in a small voice, "Mum?"

Theo stopped and looked around, almost falling over when his balance slipped out from under him from just that little motion.

He saw a hand poking up from a crushed dresser. Theo hauled up to his feet and stumbled across what might have been Evan's bed, once, and collapsed next to Lily Potter.

She was bleeding heavily from her head.

"She's alive," Theo coughed, trying to find something to press to her head. "Help - we need - help."

He unsheathed his wand. There was some more groaning from wherever Harry was. "I'm stuck," he wheezed. "I think - I think I'm under - a trunk."

Theo closed his eyes for a beat too long and fell back on his butt. "Fuck..." he groaned, trying to stay upright. Trying to stay conscious. "I'm...who should I tell?"

"Dumble - " Harry coughed, "Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore," Theo repeated. "Right."

And then, at his side, a whisper of a voice said, "Tell him..."

Theo's focus came back to him in a snap. He looked down, and saw light glowing from Lily Potter's fingertips. She was touching his knee and performing some kind of wordless, wandless healing spell. Her green eyes were shining like the stars.

"Tell him that Voldemort has taken her," she enunciated. Her teeth were bloody. "Tell him that Regulus is next. Tell him. Now."

Theo was rapidly feeling much, much better, and panic started to set in. He looked around and saw the state of the girl's dorm clearly. Black soot. Rubble. Feathers and fabric torn across the whole room. Whoever did this could still be here.

"What?" Harry called out from wherever he was. "What did you say?"

Theo felt his magic coil within him. It had always been like that, like a spring that he could pressurize and set to go off at the right moment. He had never been able to do a corporeal patronus before. He'd tried, many times, especially after the end of last year, but he'd never had a happy enough memory, or enough motivation, to get it right.

He had the motivation now. And he thought he might have one memory...

Theo closed his eyes. He did not recall it so much as sink into it.

Harry was warm under his hands. Every time he did a turn, or executed a perfect trick, he would smile and look up at Theo and laugh, and his breath would puff right against his neck, and it felt like Harry was giving him something that was meant just for him. A kind of smile that was freer, a look of trust that was more complete. Theo knew in that moment that he would do anything to feel this again, or, better yet, to feel it a thousand times. If he was going to give anything, he might as well get a lifetime out of it.

"Expecto patronum," he incanted, breathing the words.

The feeling siphoned from him and grew and grew into a large white cloud that gradually became weighty, defined, powerful. Deadly.

The tiger dropped its big head and looked at him with piercing eyes.

"Take this message to Albus Dumbledore," Theo commanded. It was the oddest thing - he could swear he almost saw the memory he was thinking of swirling within the tiger's body.

"Evan's been taken by Voldemort," he said clearly, "Regulus Black is next. And Lily Potter, Harry, and I were blown up in Gryffindor Tower by an unknown assailant."

Lily patted his knee, "Good job."

He flicked his wand at the patronus, "Go."

It turned and bounded away, taking off like a shot. Theo wiped his mouth and came back with blood all over his hand.

"You need help," he said to Harry's mum. "What can I do?"

"Harry..." she murmured, eyes slipping shut. "Save Harry."

He crawled over to where Harry was and levitated the trunk off his chest. Harry was breathing shallowly, but at least he didn't seem to have a head wound.

"Harry?" He put his hand on his forehead, but then he flinched back. "What was that?"

Harry's scar rippled. It was like a wave rippled over the shiny silver skin.

"Harry?" Theo tried again, touching his face. "Can you hear me?"

Right before it happened, he felt it. Harry's body went stiff and something cold formed on his skin like frost. Theo kept his hand cupped against his face, afraid, now.

"Harry, wake UP," he snapped, lightly slapping his cheek. "Come on, don't do this to me. Don't -"

Harry gasped. His eyes opened up and his back arched off the floor. Cold started pouring off his body in waves.

Theo put both of his hands out to cup his face. "HARRY!" He shouted, his voice stretching and cracking.

But Harry couldn't hear him. His eyes were full of fog. They stared sightlessly up at the ceiling no matter how many times Theo called his name.

---

He was in a graveyard.

He'd been here for some time. Bound and gagged. Watching Death Eaters alight from the shadows wearing their silver masks and gather round the creature that had been birthed from the cauldron with his blood and a bone and the hand of his most loyal follower - Bellatrix Lestrange.

He was living in that choking misery, of knowing that he was going to die. That dying had been on his mind for a good long time.

And then he was on the ground. His wand was in hand.

"Bow for Lord Voldemort," the creature hissed. "Bow to death, Evan."

Evan? He wondered.

His arm was burning. Blood poured ceaselessly from his arm, dripping on the thick green grass and splattering against the gravestones he was hiding behind. His breath came in short bursts. He moved quietly. Smartly.

Be decisive, like dad says, he thought.

But did he? Harry never thought about his dad, not in moments like this.

He saw a curse coming and flinched.

What was that? He thought.

What was that - what was that - what was that

An echo within an echo. Harry and Evan were sensing each other across time and space, though they didn't know it. Or, at least, she didn't.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort snarled.

"Expelliarmus!" Evan shouted, desperately, using the fastest spell she knew.

They met, two streams of spell fire meeting in the middle and connecting their wands. Evan grit her teeth and gripped her wand with both hands.

Soon, a white shield bloomed around them. Souls poured out from Voldemort's wand.

The first was Cedric Diggory.

"Take my body back," he was saying. "Take my body back to my parents, Evan."

He's dead? Harry thought, aghast. Meanwhile, tears burned over Evan's cheek.

"I can't go back!" She cried, forcing the magic through her body, holding the energy taut between her and Voldemort. "He'll kill them, don't you understand?! He'll kill my family!"

He'll try to kill us anyway, Harry thought, hoping she could hear him. Just come back, Evan. Fight. Fight and make it back to us. If you die, he'll come for us anyway.

Another spirit was there, saying, "I've known men like this before. They never stop. He won't stop with you."

Harry pumped all of his love toward his sister in that moment, trying to pull closer to her. Just come back, he begged, come back to us. If you can make it out, we'll fight with you.

Evan squeezed her eyes shut. "Harry," she wept, "I don't want you to die. I don't ever want you to get hurt because of me."

Harry laughed. It was strange to laugh without a body, but he could feel it coursing through his limbs. He thought back to first year, sitting on the train with Theo.

What about me, huh? He asked. Doesn't my opinion matter? Why do you get to decide who dies?

He felt her body tense, teeth grinding together.

Then she wrenched her wand up and all the spirits went crashing for Voldemort, moaning and crying out. She turned and raced toward the Triwizard Cup, which was lying next to the pale corpse of Cedric Diggory.

She threw herself across his body, touched the cup, and vanished from the graveyard.

---

Harry woke up with a gasp. It was pitch dark. He was wearing the rough hospital gown that he loathed with all his being.

"Where am I?" He panted nonsensically, "Where's Evan? Mum? Theo?"

"I'm right here."

He didn't actually expect anyone to answer and nearly fell off the bed in shock. Light feet pitter-pattered across the tile, and then Theo was leaning up against his bed, wearing the same dreadful gown.

"Are you okay?" He leaned in and studied Harry's face very closely, like he was looking for something.

"Where's my mum? Evan? Did she -"

"She's here," Theo murmured, taking his hands. Harry hadn't even realized he'd grabbed onto the front of Theo's gown. "Evan came back. She's alive, and unhurt. Your mum's here, too. I thought she..." He shook his head, "She had a concussion, but Madame Pomfrey's gonna set her right."

Harry relaxed all at once, flopping back against the bed. He was still breathing hard, like he'd run ten laps around the pitch.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo said dismissively.

"Mhm, sure," Harry covered his face with his arm. "You'd never tell me if you weren't."

Theo clicked his tongue. "Alright, move over you git." Without waiting, he put his hands on Harry's shoulder and hips and shoved him over to the other side of the bed. He promptly climbed in on the other side.

His warmth was an incredible relief to the pulsing, untethered fear Harry was feeling. His mind was still reeling from the strange not-dream he remembered. Had he really been in Evan's mind? What kind of magic was that?

"Is Cedric Diggory dead?" He whispered, afraid of the answer.

Theo paused. "Yeah. How did you know that?"

Instead of answering, Harry did something he had never done before, at least - not to Theo. He curled up against Theo's side, wrapping one arm across his chest and burrowing his face into Theo's chest.

They fit together easily. Theo held him close, one arm cupping the back of his head and neck, and the other gently rubbing his arm.

It took Harry two tries to say it.

"He's back," he whispered, his whole body tensing up like a steel trap. "The war's going to start again."

Theo slithered down until they were wrapped around each other. It was too intimate for friends, Harry knew, in some corner of his mind that still cared about these things. It was even too intimate, maybe, for what he'd do with his sister, if they were comforting each other.

But this was Theo. And it was dark. And Harry didn't know what had just happened, much less what was about to happen. He only knew that Theo came from a family with at least one known Death Eater, maybe two, and Harry was a Potter.

Theo hooked his arm under Harry's head and pushed his forehead against the top of his hair. Slowly, their breaths evened out. Their grip became less crushing. Theo stroked his hair and tucked it behind his ear. His fingers were cool and soothing.

"Remember our deal?" Theo murmured at long last. "Hospitals are okay, but dead? We can't end up dead, Harry."

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling in his gut that it wasn't that simple. But wasn't that what he and Theo had known the whole time? Nothing was ever simple - not in their lives.

"I'll hold you to that," he promised.

"Yeah," Theo sounded like he might be drifting off to sleep. "Me too..."