Chapter Text

~Chapter I~

~The Witch at the Door~

Harry sat alone in his bedroom—if you could call it that. The cupboard under the stairs wasn’t very comfortable, nor was it entirely safe, but it was all he had. The green-eyed boy sat gingerly on the little mattress that took up most of the space, carefully applying ice to a new bruise on his leg. Aunt Petunia had slipped it to him, telling him to stay here for the rest of the night. 

Uncle Vernon had come home angry, and then the dinner wasn’t quite right. Harry was sure the tirade that had ensued must have been heard halfway across the neighborhood, but still, no one came to check on it. His legs had suffered most of the abuse, as he once again took the belt for something Dudley had done at school. 

He fell back onto his back, fighting tears that threatened to fall. Aunt Petunia said crying showed weakness, that it let others know you’d already lost. He knew she lived by these words too, because despite all she endured from her husband, she remained poised as ever. He felt a lot of things for his aunt. Frustration…Guilt…Sympathy. Love was not an emotion they shared, despite their familial ties. No one in this house loved, not like they should.

It was nearly October now. The school year had just begun, and Harry was already tired of it. Second Grade wasn’t any easier than First, though he supposed that was the point. It wasn’t the curriculum or the teachers he struggled with, but rather his cousin. For such a young boy, he was strangely obsessed with Harry’s torment. He made it his personal mission to ruin his life as much as possible. Harry thought this was ridiculous, but since when had anyone ever cared about what he thought?

–

Petunia Dursley sat in her own bedroom, nursing one of her own bruises, fresh and throbbing. She could still hear Vernon in the living room, shouting angrily at something on the tele. She knew Harry must be in much more pain than she was, but she couldn’t bring herself to go check on him again. No matter how she framed it, Vernon would never accept that boy. He was a freak, as he called their kind. Petunia sighed. Lily must be cursing her endlessly from beyond, her own sister, letting her precious son endure this much pain. She shook her head and walked into the bathroom, aiming to drown her sorrows with a bit of the hidden liquor she stashed from Vernon.

When she felt sufficiently intoxicated to handle being in his presence again, she returned to the kitchen. Her footsteps were silent, her breathing almost nonexistent, anything to keep her presence as small as possible. Vernon was laughing loudly now, clearly having had his own share of alcohol. She grit her teeth, hopefully he would fall asleep on the couch tonight.

When she thought him sufficiently engrossed in his show, she grabbed a small cup and filled it with water, walking carefully around the couch and out of the living room door. When it shut behind her and he made no move to follow, she released a breath. Slowly, carefully, she unlocked the door she knew her nephew was suffering behind.

“Boy.” She whispered. “Drink.”

She handed him the water, watching him gulp the liquid gratefully. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch the area near his injury, but she stopped herself. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up for school.” She said, taking the empty cup from him and latching the door once more. 

–

That was how a lot of their nights were spent now. Petunia would grant him small peace offerings, never saying more than a few words before casting him right back into solitude. Always holding him at arms length emotionally, never any closer. The guilt consumed her of course, but what could she do? Forming an attachment would only make it worse.

It was one of these nights—a cold, gloomy October evening with howling winds and pouring rain—that Harry sat outside his cupboard for once. Vernon was on a business trip until early morning, and Dudley was staying with a friend. He was idly fluffing the bouquet he’d picked from the garden outback to decorate the foyer with, when he saw it—a sudden flash outside the back window. He froze.

Was it lightning? Someone with a torch? His mind raced for answers as he moved to be further concealed. Petunia was sitting on the armchair that faced the opposite direction, her eyes trained on nothing in particular. He knew she was exhausted, and also knew she probably didn’t want him disturbing her if there was nothing wrong, so he didn’t say a word.

He moved quickly to the kitchen, pulling himself onto a stool to peer out the window above the sink. There, making their way to the back door hurriedly, was a cloaked figure. Harry clamped a hand over his mouth, and nearly toppled off the stool.

“A-aunt Petunia.” He called, running over and reaching for her arm.

She glanced at him strangely, he hadn’t reached out to her in a long time, not since he was very little. She let herself be pulled out of the chair, still confused.

“There’s someone…” Harry pointed to the backdoor, whose handle was now turning slowly.

Petunia gasped, pulling Harry behind her and backing up as far as she could before the door finally swung open.

A woman, dressed head to toe in black, stepped into her living room. Thick boots left wet footprints on her freshly mopped floor as the stranger made her way inside. Petunia watched as the woman took out what she knew to be a wand, and began muttering to herself. Within an instant, she and the floor were dry, and the door was closed and locked behind her.

“Who are you?” Petunia managed, gripping tighter to the trembling boy behind her.

The woman tore her hood off, shaking out long, curly brown hair. With every move, her cloak shimmered with magic. Though Petunia couldn’t have known this, it was crafted with magic entirely, creating what was essentially a shield or bubble around her. It made her not easily noticed, protected her from weak attacks, and even hid most of the magic she cast. An excellent tool for stealth missions such as this. 

Petunia met her gaze. Her pale green eyes were sharp, trained on her with such intensity she found her heart rate picking up even more. Perhaps most disturbing however, was they reminded her of a certain woman she’d forced herself to forget—not to mention, the little boy behind her. 

“Petunia Dursley,” the woman started. “My name is not important, nor should it be any of your concern. I am here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore, we are looking for Harry Potter.” Her voice was calm, collected.

Petunia swallowed in an effort to push down the bile that threatened to rise. Dumbledore, the old wizard that had been Lily’s Headmaster at that school. She knew the name, not the face. It had also been listed on the letter that had been left with Harry all those years ago. The letter that ruined her life.

“I have him.” Petunia said, the shakiness of her tone not missed by anyone in the room. “He’s right here.”

She brought him around slowly, making sure his back was to the woman so that his eyes were on her. He looked terrified, his little body shook with so much fear, Petunia couldn’t help but draw him closer.

“Harry?” The woman dropped to both knees, the tone of her voice changing instantly. “I was a friend of Lily’s—of your mother. There’s a whole bunch of people who have been looking for you for a long time, I’ll bet they can’t wait to hear you’re safe.” 

Harry glanced back at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. He repeated Petunia’s mantra in his head, fighting them as best he could.

“I need to take you with me for a little while, we have to go on a little adventure. We’ve got to go talk to a couple of special people to help you out, but as soon as we finish, I can bring you right back. No worries, I won’t separate you from your family, alright?” The woman smiled kindly, and Harry turned to face her fully, sizing her up.

Petunia inhaled sharply. “No.”

“Oh, not to worry Mrs. Dursley, he’ll be back before-”

“No. No, don’t bring him back here.” She cut her off, her voice rising with each word.

“Pardon?” Elise stood, looking mildly offended for the boy.

“You don’t understand…” Petunia gripped Harry’s shoulders. “Harry, this woman, she’s like you. Your…powers, no- your magic. I’ve seen it, I know you know what I’m talking about. Vernon calls you a “freak”, but that’s not true, alright? She’s got them too, and so will other people where she’s taking you I’m sure. You should go, go and don’t come back. It will be safer that way.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he realized what his aunt was implying. Run away, and don’t look back. 

“What about you?”

“Never mind that, boy.” She shook her head. “If you go, you won’t have to suffer through this hell anymore. You can live as a  happy little boy like you should.”

He could feel her anger through her grip. Anger not directed at him, like Vernon, but rather for him.

“I’m sorry, Petunia, please step away from Harry and explain to me what you mean…” The woman had her wand out once more, taking cautious steps forward.

Harry put his hands out, and the sleeve of his jumper rode up. Petunia watched as realization dawned on the mysterious witch. With a swish of her wand, Harry was lying flat in mid air, peacefully sleeping. The woman cradled him gently, resting him on the couch to look at his arms and legs underneath the much-too-large clothes. She felt her blood boil.

Those cold, green eyes held hers again, and Petunia wouldn’t have been too far off to feel as though her thoughts were being read.

What she didn’t know was this woman specialized in the feelings behind magic. That particular skill came with an enhanced understanding of all emotions, even those not tied to magic. Though she sensed plenty of fear and guilt from Petunia Dursley, she couldn’t find a trace of danger or violence.

Petunia stood rooted to the spot, her teeth grinding nervously.

“What is this?” The woman asked, her tone low and threatening.

“My husband…” Petunia sighed, lifting up her own sleeves to show similar injuries. “He is not a kind man, nor does he care to be. That boy has suffered through so much under this roof. If you came to take him as you say, please do, and keep him far away from here.”

“Elise.” The woman said after seeming to contemplate something for a while, she stood and walked a few paces closer, repeating herself. “My name is Elise.” 

Petunia nodded.

“I knew Lily. She was strong, and brave…and cunning–and brilliant and so many things. She never would have wanted Harry to suffer through this. You are a coward, and you cannot escape blame for this.” Elise said, her brow furrowed in a mix of sadness and anger.

“I know…” Petunia’s voice broke, the tears she’d kept at bay for so long finally threatening to fall.

Elise was right in front of her now. She was maybe an inch or two taller, enough that her eyes bore down into her own. Petunia clamped her eyes shut and looked away, waiting to be berated.

Instead, she felt something warm wash over her, a sense of peace and healing. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, the marks on her arms had disappeared, she could feel that the rest of them on her body had too. Then, the gloved hand of Elise reached out gingerly, pulling the woman into an awkward embrace. Petunia sank into it, a single sob escaping her lips.

“I also know she never would have wanted her sister to suffer this fate either, Petunia.” She whispered. “Leave, while you still can tonight. I’ll take Harry as I intended, he’ll be safe. Take this and get on a train or a plane or something and rent an apartment for a while. Anything but here.” Elise pushed a bag of money into her hands.

Petunia shook her head adamantly. “I can’t leave my own son.”

Elise frowned, but nodded. “Perhaps you are braver than I gave you credit for. Still, keep it, just in case.” 

Petunia pocketed it cautiously, her eyes trailing over to the sleeping boy on her couch. She walked over and combed his bangs to the side. That messy rat’s-nest of hair she could never quite tame. They kept it long to hide the nasty scar on his forehead, the only one not inflicted by Vernon. She cupped his cheek, letting the tears roll freely now.

“I’m so sorry…” She whispered, resting her forehead on the couch beside him.

Elise watched, conflicted. Part of her wanted to burn this house to the ground and find the man responsible for this—he deserved the cruelest punishment she could offer—but she knew what had to be done. Still, she would be sending someone out to at least give him a fair amount of trouble getting home from wherever he was.

“You said he’ll be safe? Someone will care for him?” Petunia asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” The lie came easily. 

Elise had no idea what was going to become of him once she took him back to the order. These were not the instructions she was given, but still, something had to be done. 

Petunia nodded and backed away. “What should I tell people? How do I explain his sudden disappearance?”

“You sent him to boarding school.” Elise smiled. “It’s a couple years off, but you would have done so anyway.”

“Alright…alright.” She paced the floor nervously. “How do I explain that to Vernon?”

“Just tell him we came to get him. I’m sure your husband is at least partly aware of his origins.” Elise took off her cloak and wrapped it around Harry, bundling him up tightly.

“Yes…yes. That should work.” Petunia muttered.

“Right, well, I'll be taking him now then.” Elise lifted him up, pulling the hood over his face till only his mouth and nose were visible. “Take care of yourself as best you can.”

With that, there was a loud crack and she was gone. Petunia sank into the couch cushions, and for the first time in six years, cried until she had no tears left to shed. Then, she fell asleep on the couch, exhausted by the weight lifted off her shoulders. Though she was undeniably broken, this one choice felt like the start of finally—finally being able to forgive herself. Her dreams were not haunted by nightmares for once, but rather blessed with comfortable silence, a quiet finality to her grief.

Chapter Text

~Chapter II~

~The House in Hampstead~

Elise landed softly on the wooden floor of the Order’s safe house, her mind racing with what was sure to come next.

Her mission was simple in theory—as so many things are—run a routine scout on the Dursley residence, bring the young Potter to the safehouse to be sufficiently examined, and bring him back without a trace of her existence left behind. Dumbledore insisted she be in and out, and that she made sure that by the end of it, they had no recollection of her ever being there. She’d royally mucked that up, hadn’t she?

Still, she found it hard to feel guilty about her decision. As soon as she’d entered that house, she knew something was off. One look at Petunia and Harry’s emotional state told her all she needed to know about his quality of life there. Even looking at him now that he was laid out on the examination table she’d prepared beforehand, he didn’t look anything like a healthy seven-year-old boy. He was too short, too thin, and too pale. Not to mention, his eyes—though she’d only seen them briefly—were so dull. No child his age should be that devoid of emotion. 

While the spell persisted, she fed him potions routinely for the next several hours. Minor ones they had on hand, but hopefully enough to ease the pain of some of his internal injuries. She’d used a lot of magic healing Petunia, and her injuries were far less extreme.

She’d long since changed into much more casual clothes, and sat near Harry with a glass of water and a piece of toast.

“Elise?” Her husband’s voice echoed from down the hall.

She looked up, feeling extremely grateful for his sudden presence. In a flash, she met him at the door, throwing herself into his waiting arms.

“We got your message…” He mumbled into her hair.

“Nick…” She led him over to the boy. “It’s not looking good at all.”

Nicholas, a brilliant doctor the order had recruited for his specialty in curse breaking, had seen a lot of things in his time working at St. Mungos. Still, nothing quite prepares you for the sight of a suffering child.

Harry was sprawled out flat on his back, eerily still from the spell, in nothing but a pair of red shorts. Elise had taken his clothes to apply ointments to the many scrapes that littered his small frame.

“I’m afraid to pump him with too many more potions, because his body isn’t accustomed to magic at all. The healing is taking a lot out of him.” Elise said, referencing the list she’d started to keep track of what she’d fed him so far.

“No, you’re absolutely right.” Nick placed an arm around her, gently guiding her to the door. “You did well, my love. Now let’s go catch everybody up.”

Elise nodded, letting herself be moved to the dining area. Dumbledore sat in a plush armchair at the head of the table, looking significantly paler than Elise remembered him being. She hurried over to him, stopping just before his chair to give a quick salute.

Severus Snape stood on his right, idly checking his condition as time went on. At the table sat Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Professor McGonagall. Others had yet to arrive. She sat in the empty chair next to Nick, on the other side of McGonagall.

“How is the boy?” The older woman asked in a low voice.

“He’ll recover eventually.” Elise frowned. “What that man did to that boy is inexcusable and unforgivable. I know I disobeyed orders, but I couldn’t leave him there.” 

Her eyes met McGonagall ’s wise ones, and she knew her old Professor wasn’t even slightly upset with her. She smiled sadly, she hoped everyone else would agree. 

Eventually others filtered in. Alastor, Mudungus, Hagrid. All people that had stood with Dumbledore since day one. The newest addition was of course, Arthur, who joined after the search for Harry had proven much more difficult than it should have been. When they were all sitting, Dumbledore addressed the group.

“As I’m sure you are all aware from her message, Elise has successfully located Mister Potter. He is here with us, asleep—I hope.” He looked up at her.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. I have him under a sedative while his body recovers from the shock and injuries he sustained.”

“Was the boy in an accident?” Alastor asked, his magical eye focusing on what Elise was assumed to be Harry through the wall.

Elise cleared her throat and stood. “I called this emergency meeting because I was unable to complete my mission as planned tonight. When I arrived at the Dursley residence, only Harry and Petunia Dursley were present. The plan was unfolding fine, but Petunia started begging me to take Harry and not return him. I found this to be extremely odd, as they are not in need of financial support, and Harry didn’t seem to be a particularly difficult child to manage either.”

She paused to collect herself before beginning again.

“Upon further investigation, I discovered that Vernon Dursley has been abusing at least Harry and his wife. I am still uncertain if he is also treating his own son this way, but I have reason to believe he isn’t. Despite the increased risk, I found the only acceptable solution to be removing Harry from the home. I apologize for not being able to complete my mission properly.”

Dumbledore shook his head and held up his hand. “If anyone is to blame for this situation, it is me. You did well, Elise. You made the right call.”

“Headmaster, it’s not anyone’s fault but the dark lord.” Snape sighed.

The energy of the room shifted, the weight of the memories of war weighing heavily on the group.

Elise considered the events of that fateful Halloween. Of course, everyone knew the story of the Potters being attacked, and little Harry surviving. There wasn’t a witch or wizard who was unfamiliar with the title “The Boy Who Lived”. The lesser known details are those that occurred before and after that.

There was a massive battle that had broken out between Dumbledore and Voldemort, mere hours before the Potters were attacked. Dumbledore knew their position had been compromised and was attempting to stop or delay Voldemort from reaching them. However, in the midst of the duel, Voldemort called upon an ancient runic spell to defeat Dumbledore. The Headmaster was fully incapacitated immediately, and Voldemort fled to continue on with his plan. Actually, Nick admitted to Elise that it was a wonder the old wizard had survived at all. However, his recovery was not very plausible.

The magic, though unknown in its origin or makeup, was discovered to be a particularly nasty curse that effectively causes the very essence of your mind and magic to shatter and collapse. Dumbledore’s recovery had taken years, and even now, despite having recovered most of his memories, his magic wasn’t what it used to be.

It was this curse that ultimately led to Elise being sent on the mission she couldn’t complete. In a last ditch effort to protect Harry, Dumbledore arranged for him to be temporarily sent to the Dursley residence. In fact, in the letter addressed to them, he said it would be less than two weeks that they would have to care for him. He went so far as to move them into a brand new home that only he knew the location of, and then put the Dursley residence under a Fidelius charm that he himself cast. The only person who could find it was Dumbledore himself. 

However, when Dumbledore was in a catatonic state for over a year—and then didn’t gain access to all of his memories until a few months ago, there was no way to locate the boy. Though the order tried several backwards methods, they yielded no results. Hoping he was happy and safe with his family, they turned their attention to helping Dumbledore before anything else.

The sheer amount of guilt that weighed over them now as they learned Harry had not only been treated unfairly compared to his cousin, he’d also been abused for likely his entire time living there. Who knows what kind of physical and psychological trauma the boy sustained?

Elise shook her head, tuning back into the end of the meeting. Dumbledore had just bade them all goodnight, all except Elise and Nick.

“Elise.” the Headmaster started. “I must once again ask a favor of you.”

She nodded, urging him to continue.

“Can you and Nicholas take care of him while we figure out what the best option is?” He sighed. “I think Sam would enjoy spending time with him, and it wouldn’t be as overwhelming with you as the Weasleys. Also, I trust that you will do what’s best for him, especially after tonight.”

Elise blinked. Take him back home with them? Of course she would, but it was a lot to handle. They would have to make up a guest bedroom situation, and then there was Sam. Sam was technically Elise’s niece, but her sister was a muggle who lived in America. When Sam started showing signs of accidental magic at age two, Elise felt compelled to take her under her wing. Her sister, brilliant as she was, was never meant to be a mother. Pregnant with Sam at sixteen and left to figure it out on her own, she was all too eager when Sam offered to legally adopt her. Now, her little sister runs her own company in America, and they visit on Holidays. As far as anyone was concerned, Sam was her daughter in all the ways that mattered.

Sam was just about two years older than little Harry, and very interested in having a younger sibling. They sent her to be with Mrs. Weasley when they had work or Order meetings, so it was obvious where the sentiment derived from. 

Nick answered before she got the chance. “We can absolutely take him in, Headmaster. Don’t worry about him or us, keep focusing on getting better.” 

“Yes, exactly what I was thinking, darling.” Elise smiled. “We’ll make sure he’s taken care of, Headmaster.”

“Thank you, truly.” The Headmaster smiled, though the usual twinkle that they were so used to didn’t quite reach them. “We must not fail that boy anymore than we already have…”

Elise stood and helped the Headmaster out of his chair and to the floo while Nick went to move Harry. 

“Just one thing, Headmaster.” She prompted as he was about to go. “Can we send someone to…handle Vernon?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as her tone implied unspeakable atrocities she had already thought of committing to that man.

“I’ll see what I can do.” The Headmaster chuckled, only slightly disturbed.

She wished him goodnight and then joined her husband back at home. 

–

Elise and Nick lived in a one story house in muggle london. Considering they were both muggleborn, it made the most sense. They wanted to be closer to their families and far enough removed from the wizarding world that they didn’t forget their roots.

Now, Elise scanned her guest bedroom. It was currently a makeshift office, and occasional playroom, so it was not very usable as it was. She got to work immediately, transfiguring an old chair into a temporary bed, and clearing out the space for now. She added blankets and pillows and some of Sam’s old stuffed animals she didn’t use anymore.

Sam had come through the floo from the Weasleys rubbing her eyes and ready for bed. Nick pulled her aside anyway, motioning toward the sleeping boy on their couch and explaining the situation.

“He’s staying here with us?” Sam asked, looking at him curiously.

“Yes, sweetie.” Nick smiled. “Is that okay?”

“Forever?” Her eyes shone with bright excitement.

Nick frowned. “Ahh, no. Just until we can find him a suitable home.”

Sam crossed her arms. “What, this isn’t a suitable home?”

“Well, no. It’s just, we will have to figure out where we can legally place him, but he can’t just stay nowhere until then—so we’re helping him out for a while.” Nick tried explaining but she seemed disinterested. 

“Well, fine. At least I get a temporary little brother.” She patted his head gently, whispering her next words to him. “We’re going to have lots of fun, Harry!”

–

Elise tucked Harry in neatly, letting Sam help her as best as she could.

“I want to read a bedtime story to him.” Sam gushed, going to get a book.

“Honey, he can’t hear you, he's asleep.” Elise chuckled. “And besides, you need to go to bed.”

“Ugh, fine. Maybe tomorrow.” Elise sighed. “Goodnight, Harry!”

She patted his head again, and skipped off to bed. Elise stayed at the foot of his bed just a moment longer, taking in his frail, sleeping form. She leaned forward and brushed his hair to the side.

“We’ve got you, Harry. You’re safe now.” She whispered, smoothing his hair over one last time before shutting off the lights and closing the door behind her.

She walked into Sam’s room, only to find her almost asleep, half tucked in. 

“I’m exhausted.” She managed to mumble.

Elise smiled. “Goodnight, kiddo. Sweet dreams.”

She smoothed the blanket over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then left the same way she had with Harry.

When she finally climbed into her own bed, Nick was waiting with a bowl of ice cream and a movie. She snuggled into him gratefully, drifting off in his arms soon after the movie started. Nick laid her down on her side of the bed and kissed her gently before cleaning up their ice cream bowls and turning off the TV. He looked at his wife with a mix of adoration and sympathy, knowing she must have gone through quite the roller coaster today.

Chapter Text

~Chapter III~

~A Box of Memories~

Harry woke with a start, fumbling for his light. He had to have slept in late, he felt much too rested to not be willy behind. He sat up, now even more confused. There was no overhead light, only a window that showed a beautifully kept rose garden and a small tree outside. Looking around—from what he could tell, his eyesight wasn’t very good, but Vernon still didn’t believe him—he found blankets and pillows and stuffed animals.

Not only was he not in the cupboard, he definitely wasn’t at home? He ripped the blankets off and stumbled onto the floor. There were books and boxes and a desk around, but he went right for the door, feeling very, very confused.

Upon opening the door, he came face to face with…someone? He jumped back, alarmed. Sam, eager to greet him, had been waiting outside his door for quite some time now, she rushed into the room and sat next to his shaking form.

“Hiiii!” She drew out the word, speaking in a soft tone like Elise made her promise to use. “I’m Samantha, but everybody calls me Sam. You’re Harry, and you’re my temporary little brother. How cool is that? Anyway, it’s time for breakfast you sleepy boy!” 

Harry tried his best to follow along with her rambling, barely latching onto what she said. What he did catch was that he slept through breakfast and that she was hungry.

“Sorry.” He muttered.

“Why’re you sorry?” Sam looked confused. “C’mon I wanna eat!” She helped him up gently.

“What do you want to eat?” Harry asked.

He always made breakfast at home, unless there were guests, and then he only helped. He still wasn’t sure where he was, or if this was a dream or not, but if she was hungry he would fix that.

“Umm, whatever dad’s making?” She laughed. “I smell waffles!”

She led him down the hall and out to the kitchen. Elise sat at the table, the daily prophet in one hand and a mug in the other. Harry recognized her as the crazy lady from the night before, and then suddenly realized he must have been kidnapped.

He stopped before stepping over into the threshold of the kitchen. Nick was making waffles in the waffle iron, piling them up in a massive stack next to a cutting board full of fresh fruit. Sam ran over to the table.

“Mum, mum! Harry’s awake!” She exclaimed.

“What?” She whipped up, locking eyes with the terrified looking boy in his PJs, probably confused out of his mind. “Sammy, honey…did you wake him up after we told you not to?”

Elise stood above Sam who was now sitting at the table. Harry didn’t know them, but he could recognize that Sam was about to get in trouble.

“No!” He said a little too loudly. “I woke up on my own and she showed me how to get out of my room…” His eyes told Elise that might not be exactly what happened, but it was close enough.

She walked over slowly, lowering herself down to his level. “Harry, sweetie. My name is Elise, and that’s my husband, Nick."

“Good morning, kiddo!” Nick called cheerfully from his waffles.

‘Do you remember anything about last night?” Elise asked gently.

“Um…I remember that you said we had to go somewhere, and that aunt Petunia told me to go with you…” He recalled.

“Very good, Harry. Yes, I had to come pick you up for a very important meeting you have coming up.” Elise said.

Dumbledore had scheduled a meeting with Gringotts to open the Potters’ will, reading it would confirm their available options of where they could place him. Until then, he was set to stay with them.

“Meeting?” Harry still looked utterly lost.

“Yes, but we can talk about that after breakfast, are you hungry?” Elise guided him to the table.

“Um, no.” Harry shook his head, he didn’t eat with the Dursleys—only after Vernon finished, and only if he was allowed.

Elise frowned slightly, but nodded.

“How are you not hungry?” Sam groaned. “I’m always starving after I wake up.” She clutched her stomach for dramatic effect.

Just then, Nick floated a plate of waffles stacked with strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries in front of her chair. “One plate of waffles for madam starving over there.” He chuckled.

Harry stared blankly as everyone in the house acted like a floating plate was entirely normal. Sure he’d seen some crazy things happen before, but he always assumed he was imagining it!

Another plate floated over in front of Elise, this one stacked with bananas and strawberries. Nick poured syrup over it when he sat down with his own plate, passing Sam the syrup right after. Harry glanced at the three of them enjoying their breakfasts and felt his stomach growl. The three people at the table turned to look at him, all slightly amused.

“So you are hungry!” Sam pointed her fork at him. “Well, here.” She proceeded to fork over a quarter of her waffles and fruit. “You can have one of your own if you still want more after that.

Nick and Elise glanced at each other, unsure how Harry would respond. He cycled through several emotions, before giving in and shoveling the waffles into his mouth.

“How is it?” Nick asked. “It’s a family recipe.”

“Yea, right, dad. You saw this in a cooking magazine two months ago.” Sam rolled her eyes.

“It’s really good.” Harry smiled appreciatively.

“They are super delicious, dad. Just don’t lie to him about it!” Sam laughed.

Nick sighed. “I was trying to look cool…”

Elise shook her head. “You’re very cool, honey.”

Nick flashed her a smile. “You mean it?”

Elise patted his arm appreciatively. “The coolest.”

Sam had finished her waffles now, and saw Harry was done too. “Ew, gross. Don’t do that in front of us.” She groaned. “Mum, can we take Harry to the park?”

Harry looked at her strangely, the park? Why did she want to go with him?

Elise nodded. “He’s welcome to join us. Unless he didn’t feel like it, then he can hang out with Nick back at home.”

Sam looked at Harry expectantly. “What’ll it be, Harry? Do you wanna go to the park?” She prompted that option with aggressive enthusiasm. “Or stay with dad.” That one was spoken with significantly less interest.

“Well you don’t have to make me sound so awful.” Nick sighed.

“I’m just saying, if he wants to go to the park, we can all go, and that will be the most fun.” Sam shrugs. 

“Um…I kind of just want to know what’s happening. Why am I here?” Harry interrupted, feeling the shame burning up his face from interrupting the conversation.

He wasn’t sure of anything right now, but he was relatively confident that these people weren’t going to hurt him. Elise watched him carefully, gauging this expertly. 

“Why don’t we go talk to your room while Sam helps her father clean the kitchen.” Elise smiled.

“Aw, what?!” Sam said. “I wanna talk with Harry too!”

“You can talk to him later, sweetheart.” Elise smiled. “This is serious right now, okay?”

Sam nodded begrudgingly, and set about taking the empty plates to the sink.

—

Back in the room he woke up in, Harry sat on the floor against the wall. Elise had asked if he wanted to sit on the bed, but he refused. She could tell he was still scared of her, and knew it was probably going to stay like that for quite a while.

“Harry, I need to ask you some hard questions, and then tell you some sad stories. But, if at any point you don’t want to talk any more—you tell me, okay?” Elise smiled warmly.

Harry nodded, still skeptical.

“Were you happy living with your aunt and uncle?” 

Harry hesitated, not because he didn’t know his answer, but because he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say it.

“No.”

Elise nodded. “Did they do things or say things to you that made you feel sad or angry?”

Harry hesitated once mired, but eventually frowned. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Harry.” She touched a hand to her heart. “Did it happen often?”

His eyes seemed to glaze over as memories passed through his mind.

“Yes…”

“I see. Thank you for telling me, I know that was difficult to talk about.” Elise smiled at him.

Harry looked at the floor.

Elise waited a little while before asking another question. “Do you know what magic is?”

Harry glanced up, his interest piqued.

“Yea…I think you do, at least a little.” She pulled her wand out of her pocket, holding it gently. “Have you ever made something happen that you couldn’t explain? Made things…change colour or disappear?”

Harry thought of the several instances of inexplicable events that seemed to follow him around. He nodded absentmindedly as he recalled them in his mind.

“Well, that’s called accidental magic. Magic you’re creating on accident because you’re not trained to control it yet. Does that make sense?” She held her wand up.

Harry nodded.

“But what if I told you, you can learn to control it?” With a flick of her wrist, the small dragon plush on the bed floated over and plopped itself right in front of him on the floor.

Harry watched it settle, just like the plates Nick had flown earlier. He reached out to grab it tentatively, but Elise made it jump and land on his head softly. He blinked, making eye contact with her as she pretended to be shocked.

“I think he likes you.” Elise cooed.

Harry smiled a little, reaching out and bringing the red plush down to hold it. Elise folded her hands across her lap, watching him. When he looked back at her, she could tell he was definitely a little more comfortable.

“Harry, what do you know about your parents?” She cocked her head to the side.

Harry frowned. “Uncle says they were drunkards who died in a car crash. Said they were right fools.” He paused before looking down at the floor again. “He said I was going to end up just like them…I don’t want to.”

Elise balked. “What?”

Her change in tone startled Harry, and he instinctively flinched back.

Her face softened a little, racking her brain as to how you could have possibly chosen that as the story to tell your nephew about his parents. “That’s not true, Harry. That’s not even remotely true!” Elise stood. “Oh, perfect. Look, Harry.”

She walked over to the bookshelf nearby and pulled a box down from the top shelf. She then placed it in front of him, sitting across from him on the floor as well.

“Open the box.” She said, pointing to it.

Harry did so, cautiously. He peeled the tattered lid off and found stacks of photos inside. Only, these weren’t like any photos he’d ever seen, they were moving. Elise pointed to one at the top of the pile.

“Do you see that man right there?” She tapped James Potter’s face who was waving at the camera.

Harry nodded. “Why’s he got a broom? Was he cleaning?”

Elise laughed. “No, no, not cleaning. He was playing quidditch. I’m sure Sam would love to show you some time if you’re interested. That there is your father, James Potter. You look just like him, don’t you?” 

Harry stared at the picture, taking in his father’s features. The same face shape, the untamable hair—Elise was right, he did resemble his father.

“Your father was no drunkard, nor was he a fool—well, I suppose that depends on who you ask, but he was definitely a good man.” She chuckled to herself. “He was a wizard, and a very powerful one at that. The Potter name is an ancient one, and you also have that ancient power running through your veins.”

Harry stared up at her, curious. “My father could do magic too?”

“And your mother, look at this one here.” Elise pointed to another photo, this time Lily was the centre of the shot, hovering over her notes with a quill.

In the photo, it seems like someone calls her, as she looks up from her work and flashes a beautiful smile.

Harry holds the picture, staring at it intently. “This…is my mother?” When Elise affirmed his question, he smiled. “She’s beautiful.”

“Brilliant, too.” Elise chuckled. “Your mother was muggle born—That’s when your parents both can’t do magic, but you can—just like me. We were good friends in school, even though she was a little younger than me. You know, they called her the “Brightest Witch of her Age”, isn’t that amazing?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock. “My parents were that amazing? Then…how did they die in a car crash?”

Elise pulled out another picture, this time of the Order. “It’s hard to explain Harry, but your parents did not die in a crash.” She paused, taking a breath. “When you were born, there was an evil, evil man who wanted to take over the world as we know it. He thought his way of living was the only right one, and your parents were a part of the force set to stop him. There was a war, sweetheart, with many tragedies and too much loss.”

Harry looked scared, understandably, but Elise pressed on.

“Your family was targeted by that evil man, but there was a very lucky boy who put an end to his tirade.” She reached out tentatively, waiting to read his reaction on if she could touch him.

When he didn’t flinch away, she brushed his hair above his forehead gently, looking at his scar in full view.

“That boy was you, Harry. You are called “The Boy Who Lived”. No one knows how or why, but when the evil wizard shot a powerful curse at you, it bounced right off you and hit him instead. That’s why you have this scar.” She let his hair fall and inched a little closer, pulling out a picture of Lily and James holding him when he was very little. “Your parents loved you so much, and so did all of their friends. You have so many people who were so glad you survived, and have been dying to find you.”

Harry felt tears brim in his eyes, though he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe shock from hearing about the awful war his parents suffered. Perhaps pure sadness, from the thought of what everyone, including himself, had gone through to get to this point. Possibly even happiness, from hearing about how people cared about him.

“If that’s true…” He sniffled. “Why did it take so long to find me? Why did you leave me with Uncle Vernon for so long?”

Elise fought her own tears. “That’s also hard to explain. You see—in an effort to keep you safe—the leader of our organization, Dumbledore, arranged for you to be left at the Dursleys for just a little while. But, he cast strong magic on you and that house to keep you hidden from everyone, so that he could be sure you were totally undiscoverable. The problem is, he was  hit by a powerful curse, and lost all of his memories and almost half his magic. We couldn’t find you, because no one could find you, no matter how hard they tried. Somehow, of all the magic to stay intact after he collapsed, all those precautions stayed. I’m sure it was fueled by how much he cared about keeping you safe, but it was an unfortunate, unforeseeable mistake.” 

Harry was nodding along, trying his best to understand.

“It was only last night that he finally recovered enough to remember where you were and dismantle the magic he’d cast on you and the house. When he did, I came as fast as I could, because I promised your mother I would keep you safe.” She inched just a little closer, moving the box so that their knees were touching. “I’ve got you now, Harry, and I’m going to make sure you stay safe from now on. No more living like you were at the Dursleys. For now, you live in my house, and here? We love you, and we care for you, got it?” She reached out to press a finger to his nose lightly, something she always did with Sam when she was making a promise.

Harry wanted to cry, he really did, but Petunia’s words echoed in his mind. Crying shows weakness. He was sure that if they thought he was weak and useless, they'd send him back—and he simply couldn’t afford that. Elise watched him struggle with this, and pulled him into a gentle hug, letting him rest part way in her lap and on the floor. She rubbed slow circles on his back and held him firmly, but sweetly.

“You can cry, Harry. In my house, crying shows us that you feel, not that you’re weak. Crying is human, and crying is good for you, alright?” She whispered into his hair.

She felt him tense under her touch before fully collapsing. He snaked his arms around her neck and sobbed into her, the emotional override taking full effect. His grip on her shirt and the caliber of his shaky sobs made her shed a few of her own tears, and she pulled him closer. As far as she was concerned, this boy deserved the world, and she would do whatever it takes to give it to him.

–

An hour and a half later, Harry and Elise returned downstairs, hand in hand and with matching puffy eyes. Nick and Sam were engrossed in a card game when the latter noticed them finally.

“Mum! What happened to you, why are you crying?” She rushed over, her game forgotten, and fussed over the two of them worriedly.

Nick stood and made his way over, kissing Elise on the cheek and then crouching down to Harry's level. “I’ve got a present for you, Harry, if you’d like.”

Harry stared at him curiously, still holding onto Elise’s hand. “A present?”

“Yes, it’s on the couch, would you like to open it?” He smiled. “Sam helped pick it out for you while you were with Elise, she’s very excited to give it to you.”

Sam turned around to them after hearing her name. “Yes, yes you have to open it, come see!” She ran to the living room and hopped over the side of the couch.

Harry looked up at Elise, who nodded at him before gently letting go. He walked over, rounding the couch and seeing a box wrapped clumsily with white wrapping paper. On the paper were lots of drawings, no doubt done by Sam. She showed him where to rip the paper so that it wouldn’t ruin the drawings, then helped him rip the tape off the box.

Inside were a pair of red sneakers. They were Velcro and had shimmering gold lightning bolts on them. Harry picked them up, he hadn’t ever had a pair of cool shoes, his mouth hung open in awe. 

Sam clapped excitedly. “There’s more too!” 

Harry set the shoes down on the floor and looked in the box once more. He pulled out a pair of athletic shorts and a red T-shirt that had a lion on the front. He smiled at Sam, who was gesturing wildly at the shirt in his hands and the one she had on.

“It’s so we can match!” She whispered excitedly. “You can wear it when we go to the park! You are coming to the park with me, right?” She leaned in close, squinting at him expectantly.

“Uh, yes?” Harry agreed, something told him he didn’t want to find out what happened if he said no.

“Perfect!” Sam squealed. “Go change so we can go!” She shooed him off to his room again, despite the urging from her parents to take it a little slower.

Harry put the clothes and shoes on, noting that there were also a pair of white socks with yellow stripes at the bottom of the box. When he stood after fastening his shoes, he kicked the ground gently, getting used to the feel. He joined Sam out in the Hallway, who was sporting her own pair of electric blue sneakers. Hers had laces and no pattern on them.

“Oh my gosh, it’s perfect.” She gushed. “How do you feel?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Fast.”

Sam blinked. “Oh yea?” She turned on her heel and pointed to the front door. “Race ya!” 

She broke off in a sprint, and Harry only took a few seconds to process before following her. He felt a smile grow on his face as they ducked past Nick and Elise and flew out the front door into the yard. Nick stumbled out after them with one of his shoes only half on.

“Kids!” He yelped, tripping slightly.

Sam laughed at him while she ran, surprised that Harry was gaining on her. She had, of course, intended to let him win—but it seemed it was almost a fair fight. They made it to the end of the yard and stopped short, Sam held out her hand to give him a high-five, and he did so.

“You are fast.” She giggled. “But dad isn’t, so let’s go slow for him now, okay?” She whispered the last part, pointing vaguely behind her at Nick who was still fixing his shoe.

Harry smiled and nodded. This girl was certainly strange, and maybe a little crazy, but he liked her. Not to mention, no one had ever wanted to match shirts with him before. When Elise joined them a few minutes later with a bag packed full of water and snacks, they set off on the short walk to the park. Sam pointed out neighbors they knew and interesting sights along the way, Harry listened to every word. Elise smiled at them from behind their conversation. Sam—though her method was unconventional at best—had successfully made Harry warm up to her.

Chapter Text

~Chapter IV~

~The Park, the Girl, and the Bracelet~

Sam dragged him onto the playground, eager to show off her favourite slide. Harry watched her go down the twisted plastic slide, not sure if he really wanted to follow. He had been to a park before. Obviously, they had recess at his school—but Dudley never allowed him on the actual structures, only the swings. Sam planted her feet and shot her arms up as if she had finished a cheer stunt when she hit the ground.

“C’mon, Harry! I’ll catch you!” She held out her hands at the bottom of the slide.

Harry chuckled softly. He knew he was small, but she wasn’t very big either, if she “caught” him going down the slide, they’d both fall over. He swung his legs over, but motioned for her to take a step back. Sam smiled and obliged. Harry launched down the slide and tried to plant his feet at the bottom like she had, but lost his balance. Sam caught him by the shoulders and set him upright, dusting him off and moving onto the next thing that caught her interest. 

They continued playing together for quite awhile. Nick and Elise sat nearby on a picnic blanket, his head in her lap as he thumbed through a book on childhood trauma. Elise ran her hands through his dark hair absentmindedly while she watched the kids run around like maniacs. Eventually, a few other families arrived.

Harry and Sam were quickly approached by two boys who lived down the street; they wanted to play catch. Harry knew Sam wanted to play, so he agreed. He also knew he was terrible at catch, mostly because he couldn’t see the ball very well. Still, he got into position to play.

Pretty soon, the boys realized Harry wasn’t any good, and began to poke fun at him. All in good humor, but Harry was visibly shaken by this. Elise watched with barely concealed annoyance, knowing she needed to let Harry process and deal with the situation in a way he was comfortable with. If he asked for help, she would give it.

Unfortunately for her, Sam had other ideas, and quickly stepped between the boys and Harry. Elise couldn’t quite hear what she was saying, but they all looked very angry. Fearing she may cause a fight, Elise urged Nick to go intervene gently.

“You don’t get to be mean to him, okay?” Sam yelled at one of the boys.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly lying, was I? He is bollocks at catch!” One of the boys said, crossing his arms defiantly. 

The other boy nodded. “You don’t get to yell at us for telling the truth!”

Harry looked between them worriedly. They were fighting because of him, and he couldn’t deny that both sides had their points. He felt really small again, much like back at the Dursleys.

“Sam, let’s just go do something else.” Harry picked up the ball and tried to hand it to one of the boys.

He swiped it aggressively, and the motion sent Harry reeling. He fell back onto the grass, eyes wide and trembling with fear. The boys looked at Harry strangely, then turned to leave. 

“He’s a wimp too.” One of them snickered as they went.

Sam’s face flushed bright red, and the ends of her hair sparked with magic. Harry gasped. She was angry. He felt her eyes shift over to him, no doubt upset he had ruined the game. An apology was already half way out of his mouth before she interrupted him.

“I can’t believe the audacity of those boys.” She fumed. “I mean, seriously? Who gives you the right to be so awful!” She turned to shout the last word rather pointedly, then faced Harry again.

She bent down and helped him up, brushing off the back of his shirt and muttering about “stupid idiots”. Harry smiled. She wasn’t upset with him.

Nick smiled too, a few feet away from them now. He’d seen Sam handle the situation well, but still continued over to check on them.

“You okay, kids?” He asked when he was close enough.

Sam immediately began ranting about the situation, and Nick listened with rapt attention, turning to smile at Harry knowingly. They had somewhat of a silent conversation amongst themselves, in which Harry assured him he was alright. With that, Nick went back to his wife to recount the tale. Not before patting down Sam’s hair and putting it up into a ponytail in hopes of avoiding any more accidental magic mishaps though.

Sam continued to drag Harry around to different areas of the park, eventually settling down on the swings. Harry let Sam push him, and for the first time noticed the pain that usually exploded when people touched his back was significantly less. He smiled, it must have been magic.

When they got bored of that, they sat on the sidewalk with some chalk Elise had brought. Sam was drawing a portrait of Harry. Harry wasn’t sure what to draw, so he was looking around instead. Across the street, he saw a green car drop off a little girl. She must have been around their age. The girl waddled her way up the sidewalk to the front door, weighed down by a stack of books that he was certain she couldn't see over. He squinted to watch her expertly open the door while standing on one foot and balancing the books on her knee. When she placed those inside, she ran back to the car and grabbed one more book and her backpack. Then she waved the car off.

Harry thought she must own a whole library if she had bought that many books. He watched her bushy hair bounce as she ran back up to the door. He turned back to Sam, who was nearly done by now. His head was a large circle, with two big green eyes and a messy mop of black hair. He thought it was shockingly accurate, except Sam drew him smiling widely, and he knew he wasn’t.

“You’re happy in the picture, because soon enough you’ll figure out there’s lots to be happy about.” Sam said as she continued scribbling. “Plus, it looks adorable, doesn’t it?” 

Harry nodded. “It’s very cute.”

He looked up again, and the girl from before was back. She had a small watering can and was watering the plants on her front porch. She noticed him looking at her and gave a shy wave. He returned one of his own.

“Who are you waving at?” Sam looked over curiously. “Ohh, that’s the Granger girl.”

“The Granger girl” walked back into her house, apparently done with her task.

“Yea, I can’t remember her name. She goes to my school, but doesn’t talk much. She’s your age.” She was colouring again, adding more hair to his head. “She likes to read…but, like maybe too much, you know? I love books, but I like other things too. She’s a good kid though, if she ever comes to the park when we’re here, you should try to be friends with her.”

“Alright.” Harry nodded.

–

That night, after Harry had showered and eaten another delicious meal, the four of them sat in the living room with a notebook out.

“We need to get Harry some essentials he can call his own to start him off.” Nick said, writing down a couple of things on the list he was making.

“I agree. Definitely some clothes and maybe bedding.” Elise said.

“He needs toys mum.” Sam sighed, looking at Harry like Elise was being silly.

Elise smiled. “Yes, we’ll get him some toys too.”

“Can we go shopping tomorrow? I want to buy more beads and string. Ooh, and paper.” Sam looked over to Harry. “I’m going to make us matching bracelets. I give all my friends one, so you have to have one, because you’re my honorary brother.” She put her hands on his shoulders and looked at him seriously. “This is so important, Harry—so important.”

Harry nodded, a bracelet sounded nice. “Can it be blue?” He asked.

“Is that your favourite colour?” Sam looked at him seriously.

He shook his head. “No, it’s yours. And it’s the colour of your eyes. If it’s important to you, you should like it a lot, right?”

Sam chuckled. “Well, yes. But, how about I make them blue and green? Blue for my eyes, and green for yours, deal?” She held out her hand to shake his.

Harry beamed, shaking her hand lightly. “Deal.”

While Nick and Elise planned their shopping trip, the kids went to read in Sam’s room. Elise came to put them to bed at around eight, tucking them into their respective beds and giving them each a goodnight kiss. 

Harry found himself tossing and turning, not out of discomfort or fear, but rather excitement for the coming week. If every day this week was even half as good as this one, he couldn’t wait to experience it. It wasn’t for another thirty minutes or so that he finally fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Nick and Elise sat silently in their own bed, considering the day.

“Is there no way we could just…keep him?” Nick asked quietly.

Elise smiled sadly. “I wish we could, but we won’t know until Saturday. Sam has to go back to school on Monday and we have to ask Dumbledore if we can get him taken to see a specialist for at least his eyes.” She sighed. “I’m afraid we’re going to be too attached by the time he gets inevitably taken from us, but I can’t help it. I’m not going to be distant with that child, he deserves a week of easy fun.”

Nick nodded. “Absolutely. Since you took off Monday through Thursday, I’ll call in Friday and that way you or I can be with him at all times. I’m not sure how he’d react to being dropped off somewhere for the day.”

“Oh, good point. I’d have taken Friday too, but Dumbledore needs me at that hearing.” She sighed, leaning into his shoulder. “What have we gotten ourselves into, Nick?”

He laughed. “Nothing short of what we’re always getting into, I’m sure.”

“Good point.” Elise mumbled, already drifting off.

“Go to sleep, my love. I’ll handle breakfast in the morning again.” He kissed her once, then rolled over, dozing off within a few minutes.

–

Shopping had proven to be quite the endeavor. Nick gave up trying to prevent the onslaught of ideas from Sam about what Harry needed to have. She was hellbent on giving Harry anything and everything he could want. Elise was honestly no better, though she was much less vocal about it. She simply added things to the cart on a whim, not bothering to check with anyone.

Finally, they had finished shopping and returned home, but not before they’d stopped to get some food on the way. Harry collapsed onto the couch at half past seven after trying on all of his new outfits to make sure he liked them. Sam encouraged the fashion show while making the promised bracelets on the living room floor. 

Elise wrote a letter to Dumbledore, stamping it when it was done and making her way to the back door.

“Can Harry and I give it to Stormy, please?!” Sam exclaimed when she saw her with the letter.

“Hmm, sure.” Elise handed it to her.

“Who’s stormy?” Harry asked, clad in a plaid pajama set and red slippers.

“Only the best owl ever.” Sam laughed, putting her own slippers on. “She stays outside in her little house, I’ll show you!” 

Sam ran outside with him, stopping at the single tall tree in the backyard. Hanging from one of the low branches was a rather large birdhouse. Inside sat an owl with dark feathers and bright yellow eyes. Harry thought she looked quite elegant. Elise handed Harry a small treat.

“Give it to Stormy and she'll give you a kiss.” Elise smiled, urging him forward.

Harry held it out tentatively. “Here you go, Stormy.”

She took it and ate it quickly, and just as promised, swooped down to peck Harry on the nose. He laughed brightly, reaching out to pet her gently. While he was doing so, Sam tied the letter to her foot, handing Stormy another half of a treat.

“Take this to the Headmaster, please.” Elise said.

Stormy chirped affirmatively, and set off on her journey. Harry had so many questions, was owl mail just how wizards exchanged letters? How did Stormy know where to go? Did that not take ages? His mind raced with questions, and Elise knew they were going to start pouring out any second.

“Sammy, honey, why don’t you take Harry in and explain how owls help us deliver our mail. Maybe you could teach him how to make a bracelet.” She ruffled both kids’ hair and made her way inside to begin packing Harry’s new things into the guest room.

–

Harry went to bed that night with a bracelet tucked safely under his pillow. Sam finished his first, putting his initials with white beads on the threaded blue and green string. She put her own on her vanity, and the one Harry made her on her bedside table. It was clumsily done, and falling apart a little, but Nick helped her cast a charm on it to preserve it exactly as it was.

Elise told Harry that if all goes well with the letter she sent, they would be going to see a special doctor to help him with his eyes. She wasn’t sure when exactly, but said hopefully soon. He was intrigued, would he have to get glasses?

–

Dumbledore floo-called Elise that night, eager to find a solution.

“The only issue is the ministry still doesn’t know we have him, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. For his sake, but also yours.” Dumbledore sighed, then thought for a moment. “I need Pomfrey.” He said to one of the portraits in his office. “I’m going to see if she can help. I’ve underestimated her before, she’s one talented mediwitch. At the very least, she might be able to point us to someone capable.”

Elise nodded, grateful he was putting in this much effort to help. A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from his office door.

“You called, Headmaster?” She asked, her voice calm and sweet.

“Yes, there’s an issue I’m wondering if you might help us with.” Dumbledore motioned for her to get in view of the call. “Elise?”

Elise cleared her throat. “I’m not sure how much the Headmaster has told you, but I managed to successfully recover Harry Potter a few nights ago. He was in awful condition when I found him, and won’t fully recover from the long-term damage for quite some time.” She sighed. “My husband and I have done what we could to help treat him, but we’re stuck on something far out of our expertise.”

Pomfrey listened carefully, nodding along as Elise explained. “What is it?”

“He can hardly see…”Elise fought back a chuckle, it really wasn’t funny, but they’d had so many funny misunderstandings with his lack of visual clarity. “The poor thing is going to wind up blind as a bat if we don’t either get him some lenses or fix it.”

Pomfrey smiled. “How old is he now, must be about seven?”

“Yes, he is.”

“If you can bring him to the school tomorrow morning, I’ll examine him. He’s young enough that we should be able to correct it magically. If all goes well, he shouldn’t ever need corrective lenses. Worst case scenario, he’ll need a very light prescription.” She smiled brightly.

Dumbledore sighed gratefully. “Thank you, Poppy.”

She excused herself then to return to the Hospital Wing.

“Even if you can’t personally bring him, I’ll open up the floo for him to come directly to the Hospital Wing and we can handle it from there.” Dumbledore assured her. 

“I took the week off, Headmaster.” She smiled. “We’ll be there around ten.”

“Excellent.” He scribbled something on a piece of parchment, probably noting the newly created appointment down. “How is he doing?”

“Surprisngly well. He and Sam are getting on quite splendidly. He’s slowly warming up to the change of environment, but it’s only been a few days now.” She smiled. “He’s just like Lily, Headmaster—and by Merlin that boy is James’ twin.”

Dumbledore chuckled in that grandfatherly way he always did. “This is excellent news, Elise. Hopefully, this will continue to improve and he will be ready to move into a more permanent situation.”

Elise smiled, knowing he was right. The thought of Harry being moved elsewhere permanently loomed over the week like a foreboding climax to a story, but she couldn't let him feel that way. She bade the Headmaster goodnight and hung up the call soon after, heading to bed herself.

–

Harry woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Elise had already prepared him a plate when he wandered into the kitchen sleepily. Sam sat across the table in her school uniform. A navy blue skirt and white button up. The blazer draped over the back of her chair matched the skirt, and so did her socks. Harry noticed the red tie that hung under her collar, still undone. 

Her sleeves were rolled up while she lazily spread butter on her toast. He took a bite of eggs and noticed the two bracelets on her wrist. The one he’d failed so miserably at making the night before was fastened proudly above her own. He flushed, fearing it would definitely be gone by the end of the day. She passed him a cup of juice.

“I can’t believe you get to hang out at home today while I have to go to school.” She sighed. 

Harry frowned, he hadn’t considered she’d be gone all day. He wondered what he would do until she came home. Just then, Nick rushed into the kitchen. He grabbed his lunch from the fridge, an apple and his coat, shoving them all into his bag. Then he kissed Elise before heading over to the kids. He put one hand on each of their heads and ruffled their hair playfully. 

“Have a good day at school, Sammy. And you have fun today, Harry.” He gave Sam a kiss on the head and practically ran out the door. 

“Late as always…” Sam shook her head. “Dad’s funny like that.” 

Harry chuckled. 

Elise yawned as she sat down with her eggs. “Harry, we have to go somewhere in a little bit—so when you finish your breakfast, put on some clothes we can go out in, okay?”

Harry nodded.

“Ooh where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Harry is going to get his eyes fixed.” Elise smiled. “He’ll finally be able to see a little better.”

Harry’s face lit up. He wasn’t sure how he felt about possibly getting glasses, but seeing clearly sounded absolutely worth it.

Sam clapped excitedly. “That’s great, Harry!”

She hopped down from the table and put on her shoes. Elise helped her tie her tie, then she put on her blazer and bookbag. She ran over to Harry who was putting his plate in the sink. 

“Bye, Harry!” She squeezed him tightly. “See you later!”

Harry waved as she ran out the door to the bus. “Bye, Sam!” 

Elise closed and locked the door. “I’m going to go get ready, you have an hour to get dressed and do whatever, okay?”

Harry nodded, then sped off to his room to pick out a new outfit. Elise had packed all of his things in this huge, expandable trunk. The thought was that he wouldn’t have to pack and unpack several times, and he loved it. He picked out a red polo and some khaki pants. He finished off by putting his sneakers by the door in preparation. He knew he had a while before she would be done, so he made his way into the kitchen.

Elise had made sure to clarify that Harry was under no obligation to any sort of chores. Especially after finding out that was a lot of what he did at the Dursleys, she insisted he focus on playing and reading. He felt incredibly guilty for not doing anything for them though, after all they’d done for him, so he cleaned up whatever he could when he thought they weren’t looking.

Nick and Elise were well aware of this of course, but thought it was better to let him have this, since they were sure he considered it to be a small victory. So, while Elise was getting ready for the day in her room, Harry cleaned up all that was left of breakfast, and did all the dishes. He then went around and picked up the mess he and Sam had left the night before from their bracelet making. By the time he was done, he sat on the couch in a perfectly clean living room.

Elise walked out a few minutes later and frowned. She walked around to the other side of the couch.

“You cleaned the kitchen?” She raised a brow.

Harry shrugged guiltily. 

Elise sighed. “Thank you, Harry. Remember our deal though, okay? Leave the cleaning to us, you need to focus on fun.”

Harry nodded, fully intending to ignore that if he needed to.

She chuckled. “Do you like to clean?”

He looked at her strangely. “Sort of? If I clean I know that everything is in its place and that I put it there.”

“Mm, so you like the control of making everything orderly yourself.” She thought for a moment. “I think you and I are going to find you a new hobby when we get home, maybe do some puzzles? We’ll see.” She sifted through her bag, pulling out a little watch and putting it on her wrist. “Go get your shoes on, we’re nearly due to leave.”

Harry listened and hurried back. Elise was standing near the fireplace with a handful of what looked like ash in her hand. He reached out to grab Harry’s hand and helped him step into the fireplace.

“Um…Elise? Why are we standing in the fireplace?” He glared at her skeptically.

She laughed. “You’re about to see.” She then tossed the ash at their feet, shouting. “Hogwarts, Hospital Wing!”

Harry flailed and threw his arms around her waist as flames engulfed them. He couldn’t feel them at all, but it was still terrifying. When he opened his eyes again, Elise was crouched beside him, letting him hug her.

He saw what appeared to be an old man with long grey hair, and another woman in some kind of nurse uniform. He clung tighter to Elise.

“Harry, this is Dumbledore, do you remember me telling you about him?” She asked him.

“Yes…Hello.” He glanced up at him.

Dumbledore felt his heart drop at the sight of the overly-frightened boy. Elise was right, he was clearly not healthy. He felt the guilt rise in his throat like bile, threatening to erupt.

“Hello, Harry.” He managed, crouching down slightly to be at his eye level. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

Harry nodded, still not letting go of Elise.

“Harry, this is my good friend, Madam Pomfrey. She’s going to look at your eyes and help us figure out how to help you, alright?” Dumbledore gestured to the woman beside him. “Would you mind following her instructions for us?”

Harry let go of Elise tentatively, backing up enough to let her stand.

“So wonderful to meet you, Harry.” Madam Pomfrey extended her hand for him to hold. “I’ve heard lots about you. If you’ll follow me over here I can get a good look at your eyes, yes?”

Harry took her hand gingerly and allowed himself to be led to a nearby cot. He used the nearby stool to clamber up. Pomfrey guided him to sit with his legs dangling over the side and his head tilted up so she could run some scans. 

After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey declared his eyesight was indeed fixable, and only required a prescribed potion. The first dose should fix it, then he would have to take it routinely for a while, slowly taking it less and less over the next few years. She estimated that by the time he was ten, his eyesight would be fully healed.

Elise and Dumbledore cheered when she broke the news, and Harry was shocked he wouldn’t need to wear glasses. Pompfrey went back into her storeroom, telling them that she’d had Snape make the base potion for her last night, and would only need to add the final ingredient with the appropriate amount to adjust his eyesight.

She returned a while later with a small vial of purple liquid. “I should warn you, lad—it won’t taste good.” She handed him the vial. “I’ve set up a prescription to be made under my name at a local apothecary. I’ll have them sent to you as soon as they’re ready. He’ll need to take one every other day for the next month.”

Elise wrote down what she said. “Alright, except Harry is only staying with me for the next week, so we’ll have to have that adjusted as soon as we know where he’ll be officially staying.” She sighed. “I’ll make sure to let whoever is awarded custody know, and refer them to you if they have any more questions.” 

Pomfrey nodded, and went to get Harry some pumpkin juice to wash out the flavor of the potion. When she returned he held both liquids in his hand, and after psyching himself up, downed the potion in one gulp. Madam Pomfrey was right, this tasted awful. He chugged the pumpkin juice, but it still only masked most of the aftertaste. 

“Well, what do you think, Harry?” She asked, taking both empty containers from him.

Harry opened his eyes only to be assaulted with such crisp definition he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. He could make out every brick of the stone wall on the opposite side of the room, see the light fixtures in the ceiling, and best of all—truly take in the faces of the people around him. He knew what they looked like of course, but he’d long since accepted the slightly blurred version of their faces to be reality. Seeing them now, he realized they appeared slightly differently in reality.

Elise’s face was slim but soft looking, with an ever present twinge of pink on her cheeks. Her eyes were sharp—calculating but warm. They remind him of his own, the shade of hers being only slightly paler. Her hair hung past her shoulders in cinnamon brown waves. 

Dumbledore looked a lot kinder than Harry had pictured him. In his mind, an old and powerful wizard would have been a little more intimidating. Instead, he had calm blue eyes and silver grey hair that almost sparkled in the candle light. Harry thought that his style of dressing was rather obnoxious, but it seemed to suit him.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him expectantly, her eyes searching for signs that the potion was successful.

“I can see…so much better…” He held out his hands in front of him, taking in every line and crease of the skin. 

The adults all chatted happily about their success, while Harry looked around more, wandering around the Hospital Wing and truly seeing things. 

Soon, they had to return home, and Dumbledore sent him off with a small bag of sweets. It was one of these candies he was eating with Elise at their kitchen table when Sam came back home. They had almost finished a massive puzzle of the Eiffel Tower. Sam ran in excitedly, immediately launching into a recount of her day.

Harry looked at her clearly for the first time now. She looked a lot like Elise. Equally coloured hair that sat just above her shoulders. Her curls were tighter, more defined. Her eyes were somewhere between blue and green and grey. Like the colours you’d see underwater of a crystal clear lake. Her face was dusted with freckles, and so were her arms. He listened to her story, smiling as her eyes lit up when talking about her friends and what she’d learned. 

When Nick arrived home that night, Harry studied him as he had the others. Hair almost as dark as his, with strikingly-bright blue eyes. Harry thought they might be almost off putting if it weren’t for the perpetual calm and kind look they projected. He had smile lines and crows feet, despite only being in his late twenties. Elise had them too, though not as defined. Harry noted the single streak of grey on the side of his head.

Harry was enjoying his newfound ability to be extremely observant, and loved logging information away to save for later. With another successful day in the books, Harry dozed off easily that night, excited to see what Elise and him might do the next day.

Chapter Text

~Chapter V~

~The Final Night~

Friday morning came quickly. Harry was in his room finishing a puzzle Elise had bought him the day before. This one had a bunch of super heroes on it. Harry quite liked it. Putting a puzzle together was actually quite successful at relieving some of his stress, and when he thought about it, it was still technically organizing. 

He hadn’t tried to clean since Monday, he hadn’t had the time. He and Elise spent the week either going on adventures or taking crash course lessons on all things magic. Harry knew a lot more about the magical world than he did a week ago, but he still had so much to learn. So many things intrigued him, and he hardly knew where to start with learning about them all. Elise had bought him several books to read on things he was interested in, but reading still took him a little longer than it should.

He looked at the growing stack of books that sat by his bed. Stories he, Sam, and Elise liked to read before tucking in for the night. He enjoyed those times, when it was late enough that everything was funny, and they kept getting distracted by any little thing and going off on long discussions or tirades. He liked the calm energy Elise brought into a room, mixed with Sam’s utter chaos.

It had been four whole nights of peaceful sleep. No nightmares, no being woken up to screaming, no being dragged out of bed and onto the floor. Unless you counted the time Sam made him come help her decide what to make for breakfast, of course. He welcomed that though—it was chaotic, but it was fun.

He had enjoyed his week immensely, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly nervous about the coming weekend. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going to transpire at this meeting but he had enough of a guess. 

Last night, while he was supposed to be in bed, he’d overheard Elise and Nick talking in the living room.

“I just don’t know how we could possibly keep him, Nick.” Elise had said.

“Me neither, I mean, it would have to be some freak scenario where we could manage it. I mean, first of all, what would we do, enroll him in a muggle school and just hide him away until who knows when? I don’t want to be in charge of making those decisions.” Nick had groaned.

They went onto discuss the seemingly impossible thought of having him stay any longer, and Harry had crept quietly back into his room, unable to listen to another word. That had been weighing on him ever since. He knew this meeting would be deciding what happened to him, but he couldn’t fight the selfish desire to want to stay here. 

“They clearly don’t want me too, though.” Harry muttered, putting the last piece in its place and sitting back on his heels, taking in the completed picture. 

The superheroes were all gathered around each other, high-fiving and hugging after some victory. They were all happily encouraging each other like a team, like friends…like family. Harry shoved the puzzle to the side, walking across the hall to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror for a long time. 

His hair was long and unkempt, his teeth yellowed and crooked from not taking care of them. His eyes were in a constant state of being sunken and swollen. He wasn’t just skinny, he was scrawny. He didn’t look like the poster child for being accepted into a family. He splashed water on his face, smoothing his hair back until his scar was visible. Of course, that wasn’t helping his chances either. He sighed, drying his face off and heading toward the kitchen. 

He passed pictures hung on the fridge that he and Sam had coloured. Hers were significantly better. Everything she drew was full of life and colour, much like herself. Harry continued on, noticing Elise’s empty coffee mug abandoned on the kitchen table. He grabbed it, intending to put it in the sink, when Nick walked out of his room.

“Morning, Harry.” He said.

The sudden greeting ripped Harry from his thoughts, startling him. He felt the mug slip from his hands, watching as it tumbled to the tile floor. He was on the ground apologizing before it had even fully shattered, reaching to pick up the broken pieces.

“Harry!” Nick exclaimed, rushing over.

He didn’t want to startle him, but he couldn’t have him accidentally scrape his hand. Harry flinched when Nick threw his hand out to block him from touching the glass. Nick evaluated the situation. Harry was trembling, nearly crying now, and mumbling apologies through gritted teeth.

“Harry.” Nick’s voice was firm, but calm. “Look at me.”

Harry tore his eyes away from the floor, meeting Nick’s. Dull green met ice blue, and they sat there for a moment, letting silence fill in for words that couldn’t be said.

Nick didn’t lash out, he didn’t send Harry to his room, in fact, he didn’t do much of anything. This confused Harry. Then, just to top it all off, he smiled. Harry sniffled, unsure of what he could possibly be smiling about at this moment.

“Watch this.” Nick winked, pulling out his wand. “Repairo.”

Before his very eyes, Harry watched the mug magically repair itself. Each shard fit back into its designated place, much like the puzzle he built this morning. Nick handed him the mug gently. 

“What were you going to do with it?” He asked.

Harry stood up, gripping the mug tightly to his chest. Nick stayed low on the ground, allowing him to maneuver his way around him and get to the sink. He placed it down gently, then returned to the older man.

“Sorry-.”

“Ah.” Nick held up a hand. “You’ve apologized enough, young man. I forgive you.” He smiled. “Pretty cool spell, huh?”

Harry nodded. Would have come in handy all those times Vernon broke things in the house.

“Really shows you that no matter what happens, we can always pick up the pieces and start over.” Nick glanced out the window. “Can I tell you a secret, Harry?”

Harry nodded curiously, sitting back down with him on the kitchen floor. 

Nick rolled up his sleeves, pointing to a nasty burn mark on his right forearm. “My father was a lot like your uncle Harry. I know what living in a place like that is like.”

Harry gasped in understanding. 

“I also know what it’s like to live in an environment where things like that would never happen. I know that because I created that environment. I married a woman who is gentle and good, and we raised a girl who is a little crazy, sure—but kind.” He rolled his sleeves back down. “I felt like that mug for a long time. Like I’m sure you feel right now. What’s important to know though, is that you aren’t broken. Things may be messy now, but it’s nothing time and care can’t fix, now is it?”

Harry smiled, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. He’d never thought about it that way. 

“I feel better now.” Harry said softly.

“You do?” Nick asked, prompting him to open up more.

“I don’t feel as scared. I feel happier. I like being here, it feels like...” Harry felt himself stop before he admitted the last part.

“Feels like..?” 

“Feels like home.” Harry whispered, he hadn't meant to admit it out loud—that made it real.

Nick nodded.

The silence that hung between them was heavy, weighed down by unspoken truths and desires. Nick wanted to tell Harry he could stay forever right then and there, but he couldn’t bear to make a promise he couldn’t keep. He once again mentally cursed himself for not being able to come up with a perfect solution to this dilemma.

Harry took the silence as confirmation that Nick didn’t want Harry to stay, but when he looked into the older man’s eyes, he saw a conflicted storm. He wondered what that was about.

Nick stood suddenly, helping Harry up. “Go get dressed, we’re gonna go on a little adventure.”

Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on, but listened nonetheless. Nick packed him in the car and drove to a pub somewhere in London. Harry was even more confused.

When they went out back to a brick wall, Harry felt his patience wearing thin. Where were we, and what were they doing? Nick tapped his wand onto the bricks in a sort of pattern. A secret code, if you will. Harry watched, awed by magic once more, as the wall simply folded away. 

Diagon Alley was busy as always, but Nick was hell bent on giving Harry this little experience. He was positive he would enjoy it.

“This is Diagon Alley, Harry. You’ll come here to buy your wand and all your school supplies.” He explained, leading him by the hand to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Harry walked into the little shop with him, eyeing all the Quidditch gear displayed on the walls. Sam had explained Quidditch in great detail, talking about how one day she’d love to play on Gryffindor’s team as a beater or a chaser. She then went on to explain Hogwarts houses and their significance, gushing about how in just a few short years, they would both be there. 

Nick let him wander around while he went up to the counter. Harry found a case of snitches. The little golden balls were displayed proudly, each one engraved with a slightly unique design. 

–

Nick had purchased something but still hadn’t shown Harry. Instead, they hopped back in the car and drove an hour away to a sort of desolate meadow. Nick unloaded a large duffel from the trunk and led Harry down to the centre of the field, allowing him to unwrap what he’d purchased earlier.

It was a broom. A smaller, child-size broom enchanted to be much safer than a regular adult-one. Harry ran a hand over the polished wood.

“It’s amazing!” Harry exclaimed.

“Isn’t it?” Nick agreed. “You’re going to be an expert at it by the end of today, I can guarantee it.”

“I get to ride it?” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“Of course, why do you think we came all the way out here?" Nick set his broom on the ground, and then gently took Harry's and set it beside him. “Now, I want you to follow what I do, alright. You’re going to command the broom to your hand. It’s magic, so it responds to feeling, alright? That means you have to mean it.”

Harry nodded.

“Now, watch, and copy me.” Nick held his hand over the broom and confidently said. “Up.”

The broom flew into his waiting hand, hovering. Harry stuck his hand out similarly.

“Up.” He tried.

The broom made no movement. Harry frowned.

“Try again, sometimes it takes a few tries to convince it.” Nick urged.

“Up.” Again, nothing.

Nick smiled. “One more time, Harry. Remember, you have to mean it.”

Harry took a deep breath, then confidently shouted. “Up!”

The broom shook for a second, almost like it wasn’t going to move, then flew into his hand. Harry caught it, his eyes wide with amazement.

“I did it!” He exclaimed.

“Yes!” Nick pumped his fist. “Excellent work, Harry.” He then threw his leg over the broom, sitting comfortably with his feet planted on the ground.

Harry copied him, making sure his feet were still firmly on the ground.

“Very good, now—we’re going to go slow alright? Let’s try hovering a few feet in the air. Hold on tight!” With that, he pushed off the ground gently, looking down at Harry from about four feet off the ground.

Harry flexed his feet nervously, but followed, pushing off gently. His broom wobbled slightly as he got accustomed to the change in balance.

“Perfect. Now, let’s do a little gliding, yea?” Nick held out his hand.

Harry grabbed it, and let himself be pulled along, understanding what it felt like to move while on the broom. Every slight change in position affected your movement. After a few minutes, Harry felt confident enough to try on his own.

“You got it, I’ll be right next to you.” Nick assured him, letting go slowly.

Harry continued on his slow steady glide for another minute or so.

“Can we go higher?” He asked.

“Sure.” Nick smiled, lifting his broom up several feet. “This high?”

Harry joined him. “Yea.

They continued on like that, going slightly higher, and just a tad faster every few minutes. Soon, Harry was extremely comfortable. He felt utterly weightless for the first time. He wanted more.

“I want to see over the trees!” He said.

Nick laughed. “If you’re sure, kiddo.”

They rose above the tree line together. Harry laughed giddily as they passed birds and other small creatures that hung out in the tree tops. Before Nick knew it, Harry was going higher and higher, eager to see the scenery from way up above. Though he was quite confident this was out of a beginner’s scope, he knew he would be safe. So, up they went. 

“Nick! Do you see that?” Harry was pointing at a lake in the distance.

It shimmered in the afternoon sun, and just past that, they could see some animals grazing in a field. Harry pointed out everything he could find, overjoyed by the rush.

“Harry, do you want to race?” Nick asked suddenly when they’d been gliding lazily for a while.

“Race?” Harry looked over at him.

“Sure, why not? Let’s race from here to that tall tree over there.” Nick pointed to a tree significantly taller than the other around it, a long distance away.

Harry nodded. “Okay, let’s race.”

“Three…Two…One-”

“GO!” Harry called, tipping his broom forward and hugging it tight like he remembered seeing in the book Sam had shown him. 

His broom zipped toward the tree, the wind howling in his ears and the scenery below rushing by in a blur. His heart pounded wildly with excitement, he felt everything else give way, leaving him with just the wind, and sky. It was positively freeing. Nick was right behind him, looking mildly terrified. Harry was beyond thrilled though, laughing and screaming gleefully. When he pulled to a stop, Nick came up just behind him, looking rather frazzled.

“I won!” He said.

Nick smiled. “Yes, you did.”

“Again, again!” Harry shouted.

Nick obliged hesitantly. He wanted to give Harry what he wanted, but knew Elise would kill him if she found out what he was letting him do. Every time he saw Harry’s proud smile though, all worry vanished. They raced until they were both worn out, then packed up and drove to the nearest restaurant for food.

–

That night, Sam could hardly look at Harry without getting visibly upset. She kept glancing at him like he was going to vanish any second. Harry sort of felt like he might. His earlier joy had been quickly replaced with dread as the entire vibe of the house shifted into much sadder territory. Harry was admittedly confused. He couldn’t tell what had Nick and Elise so upset when he knew they didn’t want him to stay. He understood Sam’s distress, he felt it too, he wasn't quite mentally prepared to leave her. Honestly he wasn’t prepared for anything that was supposed to happen tomorrow.

Elise had been coaching him on appropriate behavior around goblins—they ran Gringotts and were very particular about manners and attitude. Harry understood where they were coming from. As Elise explained it, lots of older wizards were under the impression that they were a lot better than basically everyone else. Purebloods, she’d called them. Harry learned he was a halfblood because of his mother, who was muggle born. For some reason, he found this fact comforting.

He overheard Elise talking to Sam on his way back to his room.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t just let him live with us!” Sam was crying. “Doesn’t he like it here?”

Elise sighed. “I’m sure he does, darling, but it’s out of our control…”

“Don’t you want him to stay?” Sam’s voice was smaller now, the gravity of the situation was either not getting through to her, or she just didn’t care.

Harry braced himself for her response, knowing her silence was answer enough.

“I do…” Elise’s voice broke. “I want him to stay very, very badly, honey.”

Harry took a step closer to the door, his heart pounding. She wanted him to stay? Was she lying to her? If not, what was all that about on Thursday night?

“If it were up to me I'd pile him in gifts and toys and let him live with us for as long as he pleased.” Elise said through sniffles.

Sam laughed through her tears. “Mum you can’t put Harry in a pile of presents…”

“I think I could…” Elise trailed off. “We’ll at least be able to see him sometimes, you know? I’m sure whoever takes him in will let us visit plenty. I mean, it could even be the Weasleys.”

Sam was quiet, Harry could see her through the crack in her door, wiping tears away. Harry reached out to push the door open further. He wanted to go in there and tell them he wanted to stay too. He didn’t want to go live with other people and visit them sometimes. Right before his hand touched the door however, he felt someone grab his shoulder gently.

It was Nick. He held up a finger to his mouth, telling him to be quiet, and led him back to his room. Once inside, he sat across from Harry on his bed. He glanced over at the fully packed trunk and sighed.

“Are you ready to escape?” He tried, giving a smile he knew looked sad.

Harry didn’t say anything for a long time, staring out the window he’d gotten used to people-watching with Sam for hours. Eventually, he turned back to Nick. 

“I don’t want to leave.” It was quiet, barely above a whisper.

The last thing he wanted to do was be more selfish than he already had been. He wanted to scream and cry and beg Nick to let him stay. He knew that whoever he ended up having to live with would be just fine—Nick and Elise wouldn’t let him go somewhere where he would be unhappy—but that didn’t bring him the relief it should have. In fact, it almost just made him angry.

Nick had heard his plea, and it broke his heart. He watched this little boy spark and sizzle with magic as he tried so hard to process emotions much too large for someone his size. Nick brought him into a hug, patting him on the back. 

“We don’t want you to leave either, son.” Nick sighed.

Harry tensed in his arms. “Son”. The word was so inconsequential, so menial, but he liked hearing it. Nick called him “Son”, and he said he didn’t want him to leave.

“Then why did you and Elise say you did?” Harry asked, knowing this would reveal he had been eavesdropping, but he had to figure out what they truly thought.

“What?” Nick pulled back a little, looking at him strangely.

“On Thursday…I heard you talking about how it would be impossible to keep me. How you didn’t want to be in charge of me.” Harry trembled under his gaze.

“No, no. Harry that’s not–...” Nick shook his head adamantly. “Let me be clear, there isn’t a world in which we “don’t want you”. We were saying it would be impossible for them to let us keep you. We were upset because while we want you to stay, at the end of the day it’s not up to us.”

Harry considered this. “But you also said you didn’t want to be in charge of me…”

Nick sighed. “I was talking about how if we legally adopted you, we would be in charge of your future. I know that I would try to do what’s best for you, but you have so many people watching and expecting you to be some specific way, that it would be a lot of responsibility.” He ruffled Harry’s hair lightly. “But I think I changed my mind. Even if others didn’t necessarily agree with me, it wouldn’t matter as long as you were safe and happy.”

Harry nodded along as he explained. That made sense. Still, thinking about how even though they wanted him to stay, but he couldn’t, just made his head hurt. He sat back into his pillows and curled away from Nick.

“I want to go to bed now.” He mumbled.

Nick got the message, leaving the room and letting the door click shut behind him. Elise was leaving Sam’s room too, and they met eyes across the hallway.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

Nick saw how red her eyes were and knew she’d been crying. He shook his head and walked across to her, pulling her into a hug.

“No, not right now. But everything will be—eventually.” He spoke softly into her hair, holding her tightly.

Elise welcomed the hug, melting into it. They stayed like that for a few minutes, then went off to have a restless night of sleep. Neither knew what would come of tomorrow, what would happen with Harry and Sam—and themselves. Harry had nightmares for the first time since coming here, and Sam never quite went fully to sleep. 

Instead, she snuck across the hall with her pillow and blanket and woke Harry from his fitful sleep. Together they made a makeshift cot on the floor near his bed, and camped out.

For one last fun thing while they were “still brother and sister”, Sam had whispered before nodding off.

Chapter Text

~Chapter VI~

~The Will Reading~

Seven o'clock came and went, and Harry was still no closer to feeling any better about the day. Sam was still very upset, going so far as to skip breakfast and mope around in the living room instead. She didn’t bother getting dressed, opting to stay cozy in her navy blue pajama set. Harry tried his best to get her to play or to laugh or to do anything before it was time for him to go, but he had no such luck.

Elise and Nick tried their best to look happy and prepared for the day, but Harry didn’t even need his new prescription potion to see through that. So—when it was a quarter till eight—Harry sat packed and ready in the living room, trying his best to be as calm as possible. Sam had hugged him goodbye at least twelve times now, and had since locked herself in her room. Elise was nursing the same cup of coffee she’d had since five this morning while Nick slowly, deliberately cleaned each dish from breakfast. 

When it was finally almost eight, Harry took Elise’s hand while Nick carried his trunk. Sam ran out to hug them one last time, slipping Harry a folded piece of paper before he was apparated away to Gringotts. 

–

They were escorted to the Potter family account manager shortly after walking through the main entrance. Harry was so distracted by the huge marble building he hardly realized his finger had been pricked to confirm his identity. Elise held him still when he instinctively flinched away, reassuring him that it would heal instantly.

“Right this way, Mister Potter, the rest of your party has gathered in my office.” The account manager said. 

Harry hadn’t caught his name, but he was still much too distracted by everything going on around him to register that either.

When they reached his office, Harry recognized Headmaster Dumbledore sitting in a chair in front of the large desk in the centre of the room. He saw another woman there, dressed in green and wearing her hair back in a regal-looking bun. She looked significantly older than Elise, but younger than Dumbledore.

There was one more man in the room, standing silently behind Dumbledore. He wore all black and had long, almost greasy-looking black hair. Harry thought he might resemble a vampire in his large cloak, or maybe a bat. He noticed that of everyone in the room, this man was the only one who didn’t have kind eyes. In fact, his eyes seemed to carry something similar to Harry’s with the sunken look and absence of colour.

“Hello, Mister Potter.” The older woman spoke, nodding her head to him in greeting. “I am Professor McGonagall .”

Harry waved timidly, noting she sounded distinctly Scottish.

“That man is Professor Snape.” Nick whispered to him as they made their way to the centre of the room.

When they were all gathered and acquainted, Varluk—Harry discovered his name by looking at the plaque on his desk—began explaining the purpose of this meeting.

“We will be completing the reading of James and Lily Potters’ will. I must ask that only Albus and Harry remain at the front, while everyone else stays back. As Harry’s magical guardian, he will be authorizing this reading and its enactment." The goblin placed a sealed scroll on his desk, looking between the group to push his point.

Everyone except the aforementioned two moved away, taking up perch on the back wall. Elise gripped Nick’s hand tightly, nearly crushing it from her anxiety. He gently moved her hand to his upper arm, holding her close.

Dumbledore signed a document passed to him by Valruk, it stated that he agreed to this reading and signed off on the decision that would be made based on its contents.

Harry sat in the chair next to Dumbledore, glancing up at the ancient wizard nervously. He smiled, giving Harry a wink and handing him a small lemon candy from his pocket.

“Are you ready, Harry?” He asked.

Harry unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth, nodding slowly. Ready as he’d ever be, he supposed.

Valruk cleared his throat, then ripped the seal, allowing the scroll to unfurl across his desk. “This is the final will and testament of Lord James Charlus Potter and Lady Lily Evans Potter.”

There was a beat of silence before he began again.

“Let it be known by blood, magic, and law that on this day, the legacy of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter shall pass to its rightful heir.” Valruk continued. “I, James Charlus Potter, Lord of House Potter, being of sound mind and bound magical oath, do hereby declare this document my final will and testament.” Harry listened intently. “I, Lily Evans Potter, equal bearer of this oath and mother to our son, do seal these words by love and life.”

Dumbledore nodded, signaling Valruk to continue. 

“Should harm befall us, our son Harry James Potter is to be raised in a home of safety and compassion. Above all else, he must know love. His wellbeing shall remain paramount beyond blood or status.” Valruk moved the scroll up, taking a breath before moving on. “Guardianship shall be granted in the following order of priority.” 

1. Sirius Orion Black, godfather to our son
2. Remus John Lupin, trusted friend and brother in all but blood
3. Frank and Alice Longbottom, or Augusta, should Frank and Alice be incapable.
4. Arthur and Molly Weasley, friends of our cause

Harry listened to Valruk read the names. Not that he expected to, but he didn’t recognize a single person on this list.

Dumbledore sighed. “Are there any more?” 

Valruk glanced up. “Lord Black is currently in Azkaban, and Frank and Alice Longbottom are incapable of taking care of a child, but I see no reason why Remus Lupin or the Weasleys cannot take him?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Remus Lupin is currently unfit to claim guardianship, and as Harry’s magical guardian I am labeling the Weasley Family a true last resort. They have too many children to care for as it is, and James and Lily insisted Harry be made top priority to whomever claimed guardianship.”

Valruk sighed, but read down through the document anyway. After a minute or so, he brought the scroll up to his face as if he had seen something confusing.

“In the event that all of the aforementioned guardians are unable to take care of Harry—I, Lily Evans Potter name Elise Maren Woods or Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore as final, last resort options to claim guardianship. Should Elise agree to take over as Harry’s guardian, she will be granted all the same benefits as the properly named choices. Elise will be unaware of this and therefore cannot be forced into this role.” Valruk trailed off, looking toward the back of the room.

Harry felt goosebumps flood his skin as Valruk’s words sunk in. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought it might explode. He heard a gasp from behind him, and whipped around, his eyes wide with realization. 

Elise was trembling, and the only reason she was still upright was her darling husband—whose arm she was so lovingly clawing in an effort to keep herself grounded. Her other hand covered her mouth in shock. She remembered talking to Lily one night long before the attack. A vulnerable conversation in which she shared that she was a little jealous of her. You see, Elise could not have children of her own, and seeing Lily and James celebrate their little newborn made her feel somewhat sad. Lily had comforted her, and allowed her to hold the little wizard they called Harry James. 

Of course, only a year later, she would go on to adopt Sam. But, recalling that conversation now, she wondered if it had influenced this inexplicable decision of Lily’s. They were by no means best friends, but they’d shared lots of good memories at school and beyond.

She was brought back to reality when her eyes met Harry’s. They were staring at her with so much hope. It was the most colour she’d ever seen them have. She knew then and there, she had to capitalize on this. Whatever it took, she would claim the guardianship.

Dumbledore looked between his old pupil and a future one, smiling. He turned to Valruk and nodded.

“As Harry’s magical guardian, I grant the permanent transfer of that responsibility to Elise Maren Woods and her husband, Nicholas Thorne Woods.” Dumbledore patted Harry’s shoulder. “Now, let’s move onto the rest, shall we?”

Harry barely listened to the financial or property parts of the will, too consumed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t be leaving anymore. He couldn’t wait to tell Sam. 

When Valruk finished, he resealed the will to be returned to the Potter family vault. Dumbledore and Elise signed a few more documents to solidify her guardianship, as well as legally adopt Harry. When they were signed, Harry felt the shift immediately. He could feel Elise’s magic surrounding him, covering every inch of him like a protective blanket. He relished in the warmth.

As soon as she was done, she dropped to Harry and grabbed his shoulders, barely holding back tears. “Harry! You’re going to stay with us!”

Harry nodded, smiling brighter than he could ever remember smiling. “Forever?”

“Forever!” She pulled him into a hug, ignoring everyone else in the room.

Nick soon joined them after signing his own documents, his own eyes were misty as he pulled them both into a hug. “I’m so excited, Harry.” He ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. 

“Does that mean we can go flying all the time now?” Harry asked through his teary smile.

Nick tensed as Elise shot up, momentarily confused. “Fly?” She asked, cutting her eyes at Nick.

Nick laughed awkwardly, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Of course, son.” He shared a look with his wife, telling her they’d discuss it later.

Harry beamed. There was that word again. Son. He thought for a moment, letting the word bounce around in his mind. He was their son now. Maybe not by blood, but in every way that mattered, right? He thought back to the week he’d spent with them, confident he would have even more of those moments now. Even the broken mug came to mind. Nick’s words still echoed in his mind “Things may be messy now, but it’s nothing time and care can’t fix.” He was right—Harry felt like a huge chunk of himself had just been put back together. He had a family now.

The three Hogwarts Professors looked on at the reunion with a strange mix of reactions. Dumbledore hummed happily, confident this was an excellent choice. Minerva was touched by the display, though all she’d done was give Dumbledore a curt nod. Severus was sneering, that may have been his usual face, but it was still a rather strange reaction. They left soon after the Woods’ family had stood to collect their things, bidding them farewell. 

When Harry was back in the Gringotts foyer, he remembered the paper Sam had slipped in his pocket. He stopped abruptly, taking it out and unfolding it.

“To my honorary brother, I’ll miss you forever. Love, Sam” There was a picture of him and her drawn flying on brooms. They were smiling, and the colours were bright and fun. Harry smiled.

“Is there a pen anywhere in here?” He asked, glancing around.

Elise handed him one from her purse, slightly confused.

He knelt down and scribbled something on the paper, handing Elise the pen back when he finished. “Alright, let’s go.”

Nick grabbed his trunk and his wife, who was holding Harry’s hand. They popped back into their living room to find a very sad looking Sam staring out the window.

Harry took out the piece of paper and unfolded it, smoothing it out on his leg.

“Sam, honey?” Elise called. ”We have news.”

“Where did they send him?” Sam mumbled.

“To some crazy girl’s house.” Harry joked. 

Sam whipped around. “What are you doing here, did they cancel the meeting?” She was in front of him in an instant.

“Nope.” Harry shook his head and timidly handed her drawing back to her.

Sam took it and looked at it curiously.

“honorary brother” was scratched out and replaced with “forever brother”. She looked back at him, shellshocked.

“They’re letting you stay with us?” Her eyes were watering, but she held it together until her parents confirmed.

“Today, we legally adopted Harry.” Nick said. “He’s stuck with us now.”

Sam wrapped him in a hug, nearly crushing his ribs. The paper fluttered to the floor, stained with tear drops, but no less beautiful. 

There was a lot of crying that night, all happy of course, but still. Nick made a fancy dinner, and Elise turned on movies for the kids to watch while they ate. Harry stuffed his face with steak and vegetables, and Elise handed him a bowl of ice cream as soon as he finished.

“Welcome home, Harry.” She smiled, tapping his nose softly.

“Mum, can we decorate Harry’s room tomorrow?” Sam called from the hallway. “Ooh, I want ice cream!”

Elise chuckled, moving to scoop out another bowl for her. “Sure. Harry can pick out his colours and furniture.”

She would have always said yes to that, but after hearing how much money would be going directly into her bank account from here on out, she was entirely confident in this decision. Her and Nick would have to discuss a few things of course. Harry would need to be enrolled in school soon, and they would have to work on ensuring Harry was only getting better health wise. Elise was sure Nick could come up with a diet and physical plan to get Harry back on track before Hogwarts. Perhaps a visit to the dentist and maybe a haircut should have him feeling much better.

She was excited, to say the least, to watch him grow and get better. She loved that boy when she met him as a baby, she loved him when she rescued him from the Dursleys', and she loves him now—despite being covered in ice cream and chocolate syrup.

Chapter Text

~Chapter VII~

~The Girl in the Bookstore~

Harry and Sam had drawn up a detailed picture of what his new bedroom should look like. It included a bed, desk, dresser, and bookshelf to start. Harry wanted the theme to be red, and Sam thought it would be good to make the accent colours gold and black. So, Elise was out shopping for all of the new furniture, getting it all loaded into her bag after being shrunken down. She’d chosen to make the trip to Diagon Alley rather than go to a muggle shop for this very reason. Why do heavy lifting when things can come pre-built and travel size?

Nick had taken the children on their own shopping trip, letting them pick out some new toys and books for his shelves. Harry was excited, they had gone and picked out some puzzles and other toys to have around the house. He’d never had any toys of his own, and couldn’t wait to unpack them all and set them up all over his room. Now, they were in the parking lot of an old bookshop.

“Harry, how many books are you going to get?” Sam asked curiously.

“Umm, I’m not sure, as many as I can carry?” He answered honestly.

Sam nodded, that seemed reasonable to her. 

Once Nick opened the glass doors to the shop, Harry was immediately enraptured by everything he saw. Bookshelves lined the floor in a maze-like cluster. The whole shop was decorated with a medieval theme in mind. Stone walls, floors lined with red carpets, torches for ambient lighting. Harry followed Sam to the kid’s section, immediately rifling through piles of graphic novels and comics.

“Mum always says you have to buy at least one chapter book with your comics.” Sam advised. 

Harry clutched a comic to his chest, some superhero special edition or other. “I never got to read comics at home, only school books.”

Sam smiled. “As many as you can carry, that’s what you said, right? I’ll pick out a chapter book for you, that way mum can’t get mad.” She held up a finger to her mouth as if this fact would be a big secret between the two of them. 

Harry nodded aggressively, he didn’t want to upset Elise. They split off there, Harry staying in that section of shelves and Sam going to find a copy of a book she thought he might like. Pretty soon, he ended up in a different section, only slightly taken aback by how large these books were. He held three or four comics in one hand, and held his other up to the spine of one of the books in front of him. His hand didn’t even fit all the way around it. 

“Are you interested in war?” A voice asked from behind him.

Harry turned, a little frightened. “Sorry?”

“That book.” Harry now noticed it was the girl he saw at the park.

What did Sam say her name was?

“It’s about war tactics.” She pointed past him, curiously.

“Oh. No, I’m not all that interested in war at all, really. I just wanted to see how big it was.” He smiled sheepishly.

The girl smiled too, adjusting her own extremely large book in her arms to sit better. “I see, it is quite an extensive volume.” She balanced the book on her hip and stuck out her right hand. “I’m Hermione Granger, I’m eight, what’s your name?”

Harry shook her hand. “Harry.”

He faltered a bit, wondering if he should introduce himself as Harry Potter, or Harry Woods. He had been officially adopted, he supposed, but he wasn’t going to legally change his name for the sake of the Potter legacy. His hesitation wasn’t missed by Hermione.

“Have you forgotten your last name?”

“No, sorry. I’m Harry Woods. I’m seven. What book did you pick to buy?” He pointed at the green covered novel, curious.

“Oh, I’m not buying this one today, I just thought it looked rather interesting.” She flipped it open, showing him an in depth encyclopedia of cat species. “I want a pet cat, but my father says it’ll only scratch up the house.” 

Harry considered this. “Your father might be right, but couldn’t you train it not to scratch?”

Hermione nodded vehemently. “That’s what I told him! The real reason he doesn’t want to get a cat is because he’s deathly afraid of them, my mum told me so.” She sighed. “He really is a silly man…”

Harry chuckled. “Afraid of a house cat?” 

Hermione shrugged.

“I guess you could say he’s a ‘scaredy-cat’, but that might frighten him more.” Sam’s voice came from down the aisle.

Harry frowned, that was a terrible joke. 

Hermione smiled. “You’re Samantha, I’ve seen you at school!” 

Sam nodded. “Call me Sam. I see you’ve met my younger brother.” She came up next to Harry and ruffled his hair gently.

“I didn’t know you had a brother! I wish I had a younger sibling…” Hermione gushed. “But…wait, if he’s your younger brother, does he go to a different school? I’ve never seen him before, and we must be in the same grade.”

Sam shook her head yes. “He’ll be transferring to our school soon though. Maybe you’ll be in class together!”

Hermione grinned. “That would be wonderful! A lot of the kids in my class are rather boring, it’s not their fault really, I just find them…uninteresting."

Sam paused, biting back a laugh. “You’re actually pretty talkative, aren’t you?” 

Hermione's face flushed. “Sorry!” Her eyes moved to the floor, effectively causing her hair to cover most of her face from view.

Harry frowned, looking up at Sam. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d definitely hurt her feelings just now. He glanced between them, hoping Sam got the message. Thankfully, she did.

“Why are you sorry? I love talking! I only noticed you keep to yourself at school so I thought you must not like to talk very much. I’m glad I was wrong” Sam crouched slightly to make eye contact with the younger girl through the mess of brushed out curls, and smiled brightly.

Hermione glanced back up, still a tad nervous. “Actually, my father says I don’t know when to stop.” She giggled. “I’m sure he’d be surprised to learn I could give that impression.”

With that, the trio moved on to comparing book selections. Sam took home a recommended novel from Hermione, and Hermione picked up one of the comics Harry had suggested. They swapped addresses and phone numbers and promised to make an effort to see each other again.

—

That night, after Harry’s brand new room had been set up and decorated to his liking, he sat in his new bean bag chair flipping through the comic he’d bought that morning. The Man of Steel was exactly what he hoped it would be, and he’d almost finished it.

His eyes wandered to the clock on his bedside table. It was nearly bedtime. He moved to his new bed, an ebony frame that had built in drawers and shelves for maximum storage. His sheets were crimson, and his quilt had little golden snitches dotting it randomly.

He snuggled in, admiring the room from here. He could still see out the window, so long as his red and gold curtains were pulled back. His books and toys were scattered throughout on either the few bookshelves, the desk, or his bed. 

Sam and Elise had gushed over the room all afternoon, and he couldn’t help but agree, it was pretty awesome. He placed his now finished copy of The Man of Steel on the shelf next to him and turned the nearby lamp off. 

The starlight filtered through his open window, and he drifted off wondering how amazing it would be to fly like Superman, to save the citizens from bad guys and look super cool doing it. What would it be like to have laser-vision, or be nearly invincible?

His mind raced with endless questions, but he soon caved to the call of sleep, snoring softly.

Chapter Text

~Chapter VIII~

~Apple Orchard Primary~

Harry’s first day of school at Apple Orchard Primary was in the middle of the semester. With all the time he’d taken off school because of his new living situation, he had been feeling extremely nervous to start again.

Some part of Elise wanted to keep him home and make sure he was safe. Kids could be cruel, and there were things he needed to learn that he wouldn’t in a muggle primary school, but she and Nick had agreed that this was the best choice. Sam would be with him, and he’d already made a friend. Elise would never tell him, but she made a call requesting he be put in her class specifically, citing his adoption and mentioning the rough transition. The school was happy to comply.

“What do you think?” Sam asked from the kitchen table.

“It’s twenty-two.” Harry answered.

Elise looked up from her mug, watching them. Sam was helping Harry review basic arithmetic after he mentioned struggling with it before. Elise had seen his transcripts, he wasn’t excelling in any subject, but how could he when he was living through hell on a daily basis? She wondered how he’d fare if he actually enjoyed school.

“Correct! Eleven plus eleven is twenty-two.” Sam clapped once. “Okay, I’m going to ask you a super hard one.”

Harry nodded tentatively.

“What is….one-hundred and forty-seven minus thirty-four?”

Harry blinked awkwardly at her, clearly not expecting such large numbers. Still, Elise could see his mental gears firing at full capacity trying to figure out the answer.

“It’s one-hundred and…fifteen? No, one-hundred and thirteen!” He slammed the table, looking at her expectantly.

“Correct!!!!” Sam threw her arms up. “You’re totally prepared for second grade maths. If you want, I’ll help you with your homework and you can watch me do mine to get ahead.”

“Sure.” Harry smiled groggily, still not entirely awake.

Elise smiled at her two kids. Sam was so great with him, and she couldn’t wait to see how close they got as they got older. Sending them both to Hogwarts would be hard—she’d miss them terribly—but she knew they would have loads of fun terrorizing their friends and the staff no doubt.

“Mum, we’ve got to go now.” Sam called from the door.

She fixed Harry’s little tie and fluffed his jacket collar. Elise walked over and hugged them both.

“Have a great day you two, look out for each other.” She tapped them both on the nose gently.

“Yes ma’am.” They said, turning and hurrying out to the bus.

—

Harry sat at a desk next to Hermione Granger, flipping through his science textbook. They were currently halfway through the school day and about to be dismissed for lunch. 

Hermione was totally engrossed in one of the books she’d brought from home, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When the bell rang, Harry slid his textbook into his bag and stood to leave. Hermione didn’t move.

He smiled, trying not to laugh. “Hermione. The bell rang, it’s time to go eat.” He shook her shoulder gently as classmates passed them on their way out.

“Oh, sorry Harry. I’m coming!” She hurriedly packed up the book and followed after him.

“What were you reading?” He asked once they had gotten their lunch and sat down.

“Oh, just a short novel. I love the main character and the plot has been super interesting so far-” She rambled on for a bit, and Harry nodded along happily.

“I just finished another one of my comics, but I had to open the science book to study ahead.” He admitted.

“Are you feeling behind in science?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Well…I was never really all that smart.” Harry chuckled. “I hope I can get to be better though. My old school was…pretty rough.”

Hermione looked at him strangely, as if trying to decipher a hidden meaning behind his words. Finally, she shrugged.

“Between your sister and I, we can get you up to speed. No need to worry.” She smiled brightly, patting his shoulder.

Harry returned the smile and launched back into his food, all this studying had made him hungry.

–

By the end of the semester, Harry was quickly rising in ranks at school. He had made new friends, studied hard, and even picked up football. Christmas was right around the corner now, and he was ready for the break. 

Hermione and a few of their other friends were over for a small Christmas party. Elise had set up a secret Santa party with the parents, and it was almost time to exchange gifts. Harry sat with the gift he’d selected in his lap fidgeting with nervous excitement. He’d pulled his friend Paul’s name out of the hat and knew what he wanted to get him immediately. 

“Are we ready to swap, kids?” Elise called from the kitchen.

A chorus of “yes” had everyone gathering on the floor in the living room. Gifts were swapped, Harry gave his to Paul, Paul gave his to Jennifer, Jennifer gave hers to Hermione, and Hermione gave hers to Harry. Wrapping paper flew everywhere as they tore into their presents.

“Oh wicked!” Paul exclaimed.

He held a pair of bright green football boots. The laces were electric blue. His parents clapped excitedly with him as he hurried to try them on.

Jennifer gasped, pulling out a set of CDs from her favourite band, all limited edition with special tracks.

Hermione held a brand new set of really fancy looking pens. They were very intricately designed, and supposed to be super high quality. Underneath the pens was a sparkly purple journal. Hermione turned it over, noticing the lock.

“Every girl needs a secret diary.” Jennifer nudged her playfully.

Hermione giggled, thanking her and handing the present off to her mum for safekeeping.

Harry got his unwrapped last, and almost fell over from shock. An entire set of limited edition superhero comics from Hermione. Apparently, her father had helped her find them.

“Don’t read them all tonight…” Hermione joked.

The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at her curiously. That was rich, coming from the girl who notoriously flew through books with super speed. Her cheeks flushed under the stares as she fumbled to defend her comment.

“I was only kidding!” She finally sighed.

Harry broke first, chuckling at the absurdity of the request. The rest of the crowd soon followed, and Hermione leaned back onto the couch exasperatedly. 

–

A few days later, it was Christmas morning. Sam and Harry were in their parents' bedroom before the sun was up.

“Alright, alright.” Nick grumbled playfully. “Go wait on the couch, we’re coming.”

Harry and Sam waited as patiently as they could, finally getting to open their presents about ten minutes later. Nick ran around collecting the wrapping trash and Elise snapped several pictures magically, saving them to be hung up later.

That night they hosted Christmas dinner for them and the Grangers. Harry stared hungrily at the feast laid out before him, then his eyes met with Elise’s across the table. She smiled and signaled for him to eat, but he paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He stood abruptly then, looking around at the happy faces surrounding him and feeling something tug at his chest. Sam grabbed his shoulder curiously, and Hermione reached for his hand on his other side. He looked between them and his captive parents and finally gave into the tears that had begun to well up. He cried, softly at first, then roughly, overtaken by heaving sobs.

“Harry, honey…” Elise ran to him, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears gently. “What’s wrong?”

Nick followed, standing behind her for support. The Grangers watched from their seats with barely concealed sadness—-Elise had told them about Harry’s less-than-ideal childhood long ago.

Harry only shook his head, pushing through her arms into a hug tentatively. He wasn’t sad really, maybe on some level, but what he really felt right now was relief—he was extremely grateful for these people that had saved him in so many ways, he just didn't quite know how to express it. 

His tears soaked into Elise’s Christmas sweater, but she couldn’t have cared less. She rubbed soft circles into her son’s back, just as overcome with his emotions as he was. 

When he eventually recovered, he apologized several times to everyone that had witnessed. Mr. Granger had ruffled his hair and promised him that all he’d done was remind everyone to show just how grateful they were for each other tonight. Mrs. Granger added that gratitude was a good lesson to learn, especially so early. They called him wise for his years, and he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself.

Sam and Hermione had almost cried with him, unable to understand why he was so upset. They did their best to comfort each other once he calmed down. Hermione told him he never had to worry about belonging anywhere. She hadn’t belonged to any particular group or purpose before him, but now they had so many friends and did so many fun things together. She told him it was all thanks to him that she had a great year at school.

Sam just held her younger brother for a moment, also unable to communicate how she felt about the entire situation. He hugged her back as hard as he could before announcing he must eat now. He was starving!

Luckily, those were the only waterworks that night, and the rest of the evening went by extremely well. Harry went to bed with heart and stomach full and content.

Chapter Text

~Chapter IX~

~The Years Before~

Sam ran ahead in the station, her brand-new school uniform already on. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was her current destination. Her parents were somewhere behind her, no doubt keeping Harry in check. He was so curious, and extremely observant now, a blessing and curse to have in a nine-year-old boy.

She stopped just for the brick wall that marked the entrance to her next chapter. The Hogwarts Express was just beyond these stones, ready to whisk her away to the Scottish highlands. For some reason, she was extremely nervous.

She had no reason to be, all things considered. She was over-prepared, what with the almost inhumane routine she'd been on for the past three years. Harry needed to be trained early—Merlin knows why, they never told her anything—and so that meant she, of course, had to join in. She couldn't be worse off than her younger brother at school, she'd never live it down!

So, training had begun a few months after they had adopted Harry. Physical training as well as mental. A healthy mind needs to be housed by a healthy body—her father often said. She knew he was right, but endurance training was the worst. But, all things considered, she had them to thank. After all, it was thanks to all that she was in excellent shape. Running and dodging during duels was a cakewalk now, and she was so much faster than most of her peers when it came to defense. Harry was still somehow faster, she suspected it was his boy-genes giving him the advantage.

Legilimency and occlumency had been no small task either, but a necessary evil, according to her mother. Now her mind was on track to be nearly impenetrable by the time she was in her fourth year.

Hermione had been discovered to be a witch by Sam a few weeks into them spending time together. She noticed that the younger girl would often summon books or school supplies at a whim, whether knowingly or not, and it often led to quite the interesting story when having to explain how it was she had these things. She joined their training of course, much to Harry's dismay. He was of course delighted to see her and spend time together, but the caliber of the lessons meant she was continuously watching him fail miserably at everything they were set to do.

Hermione was over the moon though, and much too preoccupied studying ahead to worry about Harry embarrassing himself. She was by no means as physically inclined as the two Woods siblings, but her mental ability far exceeded theirs. Nick often told them not to bother attempting to challenge her at that accomplishment, he said she might be the brightest little witch he'd ever met.

So, all of this training and studying and preparing for wizarding school before she'd even actually received her Hogwarts letter…but she still felt entirely overwhelmed. She hadn't realized how silly she must look, staring at nothing for so long while her mind raced through every single horrible possibility of her next seven school years.

"So…are you gonna go in?" Harry's voice ripped her from her spiraling.

"Uh, in just a second…" She tried a smile at him, but dropped it when he obviously didn't fall for it.

He carried one of two of her trunks, charmed to be feather-light, but no doubt still annoying to carry. He gave her a sympathetic smile, then rolled his eyes.

"You're fine." He chuckled, elbowing her so that she fell forward slightly.

He kept pushing till she'd successfully stumbled through the gateway, mildly annoyed but through nonetheless. Their parents followed close behind, both looking around nostalgically.

"You'll be alright Sam. Plus, you only have two years before I come and pass you up in all your classes, so you better start focusing now." He teased, his eyes full of mirth.

Sam ruffled his hair then tugged on it once before letting him go. "Whatever, kid. Give me my trunk."

He handed it to her, and Elise stood her in a tight hug.

"Be safe, stay focused on your studies, and have fun." She mumbled into her daughter's curly hair so similar to her own.

"Yes, yes. I know mum." Sam chuckled. "Take care of dad, I know he'll be lost without me." She sighed dramatically.

"It's true!" Nick chimed in from behind, feigning a wounded heart. "Whatever will I do without my precious angel?"

Harry snickered and Sam rolled her eyes.

Nick joined the hug and handed her the other trunk. "You ready, kiddo?"

"Yep!" She wasn't really, but what else could she do, the reason was leaving any moment.

Harry grabbed her for one last hug when their parents had finally stepped back, mumbling an "I'll miss you." Before retreating to Nick's side.

With that, she boarded the express, her bags light but her heart heavy. She watched as three of them waved from the platform until she couldn't see them anymore.

"'Scuse me." A boy tried to slide past her politely on a turn, flailing helplessly into her trunks. "Oh god, so sorry."

She stumbled, but kept her balance pretty cleanly. "It's alright, probably shouldn't be standing in the middle of the walkway, sorry." She gave a smile.

"Maybe not." He shrugged. "Do you have a place to sit?"

She shook her head.

"Oh good. I mean, not good that you don't have a seat, but good for me because I don't have anyone to sit with. Um…anyway, care to join?" He pointed awkwardly at an empty car a few feet away.

Sam laughed. "Sure."

The boy's name was Everette Whitmore. He was a halfblood who lived with his uncle in magical London. His uncle worked for the ministry, and he was set to follow in his footsteps as an auror. Sam thought he was a little awkward, but kind. She liked that. They were fast friends, swapping snacks and stories until they reached the castle.

The sorting ceremony had passed without a hitch, and Sam sat comfortably in red and gold. Fred and George flanked her on either side, tossing jokes over her head while they all devoured the welcoming feast. Everette had been put in Hufflepuff, and while she was more than a little disappointed they didn't share the same house, she knew that was where he belonged. His easy charm and fierce sense of morality made him the perfect Hufflepuff example. She absentmindedly wondered if they would be able to stay friends if they were in separate houses. Surely, she decided. When had something as little as that held people back from growing closer?

–

Harry's tennis shoes pounded on the dirt track as he ran. Wind whipped his too-long hair back as he sped past his classmates. Over the last hurdle he leapt, then came to a slow jog back towards the coach.

"Attaboy, Woods." Coach Garza bellowed, clocking his time in and giving him his usual fired up grin.

"What's next, coach?" Harry said, pacing slowly back and forth to keep his breathing even.

Coach Garza faked an exasperated sigh. "You're done with the physical, kiddo, have been for a while. You're welcome to run more laps or get out some of the equipment and mess around 'till class is over. Just stay out of trouble, got it?"

"Yes, sir." Harry smiled.

He ran to the doors of the gymnasium, throwing them open and going to his backpack. He sat on the top bleacher and pulled out his notes. It was July twentieth, and he was on his last day of the summer camp he'd wanted to attend with Paul. It was nearly time for his Hogwarts letter to arrive, and he knew he wouldn't get to see him much after that. He'd been with him since he'd gotten to school, and though they weren't as close as he and Hermione were, he'd miss him all the same. Plus, Hermione was coming with him, so he wouldn't get much of a chance to miss her really.

He scribbled what he hoped was the correct theoretical process of the spell his mum had assigned him and shoved the notes back in his bag. Paul ran up about two minutes later, offering a cup of water. They chugged their cups simultaneously, wiping water from their chins and sighing in almost perfect sync.

"Almost time for you to leave, huh?" Paul grinned.

"Mhm. I can't believe I'm missing your football debut." Harry teased.

Paul had begged him to come to this camp because it doubled as the prep for his fancy club league he'd tried-out for and made. Harry was proud of him, and he loved the sport too, so why not have some fun playing as their last hurrah?

"Mum's talking about enrolling me in some fancy private school like you." Paul sighed. "When is she gonna understand that I don't like school like you and Hermione do? Just 'cause I'm friends with smart people doesn't mean I'm smart."

Harry snorted. "It's not that you're not smart. You're lazy. There's a difference."

Paul frowned. "Rude."

Harry shrugged. "It's true, isn't it?"

"Ugh, when it comes to school, yes." He rolled his eyes.

They sat together until it was time to be picked up, and went their separate ways.

–

Harry's birthday party had come and gone. Hermione and Paul had attended with their parents, as well as a few other of their friends from school. Harry received his Hogwarts letter later that night, and tucked it safely into his half-prepared trunk.

Starting tomorrow, Elise was taking a month off to give Harry the last month of his training they had planned before he officially started school. He was equally excited and terrified. His mum could be quite the stickler when she was in her teaching mode. It made him better in the end, but it made the process much more strenuous.

They would be spending the month at one of the Potter properties in Harry's name, and he was going to have little to no contact with anyone before it was time for school. Hermione and Sam had wanted to come, but Elise couldn't afford to risk Harry being held back at all. Instead, Nick was in charge of giving the young witches plenty of study materials and practical lessons until the start of the new term.

—

When they arrived at the secluded cottage in some unmarked part of a forest, Harry knew he was in for it. Training started at sunrise and ended at sunset. He was doing everything from obstacle courses to meditating. Elise had him on a strict diet designed to finish off the damage he'd suffered in his growth from early childhood. While they had been helping him with potions and nutritional supplements since they'd adopted him, it still hadn't totally offset it. His routine was brutal, but successful.

Elise had planned this month with the Headmaster ages ago. This particular cottage was in an area so rich with ancient magic you felt like you were swimming through it. The cottage was tied to Potter magic, meaning Harry was subconsciously absorbing ancient family magic for thirty whole days. Elise saw the change almost instantly. Everything about him was sharper, more defined. His skin was clear and soft, his hair lush and full, he exuded magic with every step and every breath.

The years leading up to this had trained his mind for quick learning and deep thinking skills, but the magic of the forest multiplied that ten-fold. He left the cottage with an almost impenetrable shield on his mind, enough battle wit to outsmart Elise eighty percent of the time, and an entire two inches taller in height. He also finally finished the treatment to ensure his eyesight never faded back to its original terrible quality. All in all, he was exhausted, but ready to face whatever the world had to throw at him.

On the final day of his training, Dumbledore had paid them a visit.

"Harry, my boy. I'm sure Elise has told you about your parents enough that you're sick of hearing the story, but there are things I want you to know before you leave here today. Are you willing to listen to what I have to say?" His eyes held some level of guilt that Harry silently wondered about as he spoke.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Very good." He stood, pacing the room in front of Harry and Elise. "That night—the night your parents were killed—there's more to that story than you are probably aware. I'm sure you know that I have only recently recovered from a terrible curse."

Harry nodded. "The one that messes with your memory, sir, mum told me about it."

"Yes, indeed. The dark lord truly bested me that night, and that is part of the reason you suffered so much. I'm deeply sorry, my boy. Had I only been stronger, perhaps I could have saved you and your family."

Harry swallowed nervously. The Headmaster wasn't saying anything he hadn't heard or thought of before, but he also knew that the dark lord was not to be underestimated. He was powerful, and clearly cunning enough to outsmart possibly the greatest wizard of all time—save for Merlin himself.

"You also probably know that because I failed that night, I continued to fail you until your mother found you with the Dursleys all those years later. I cannot express how proud I am that you lived through a situation as dastardly as that and came out as great as you are today. I hope that you can forgive this old man for how I have wronged you in the past, so that we can work together in the future." He paused for a moment, the grief he felt visible in his every breath. "The dark lord will return. Though it isn't fair, it has been prophesied that you will be the one to vanquish him. The least we can do is prepare you for that, while actively attempting to avoid any part of said prophecy coming to fruition."

Harry's lips pressed into a firm line. This is what Elise has been training him for. Just in case, they said. Just, on the awful-terrible-horrible chance that he might one day have to face him, he would be ready. Harry saw the way the adults of the order looked at him. He could hope and dream all he wanted, but some part of him knew he wouldn't be so lucky as to avoid his destiny. All he could do was train and pray that the powers that be were on his side and held him in good favor.

"Now, enough of that. Elise tells me you are doing quite well for yourself. As such, we will be providing extra opportunities for you to do some further studying at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, to maintain appearances, we'd still like you to complete all years along with your peers." He chuckled. "We assume you'll be quite bored, but I assure you, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape will keep you quite busy."

Elise nodded along as he spoke. "I'm sure it can be arranged for Hermione and your sitter to participate in these extra lessons somehow as well. Merlin knows they need the challenge."

"Of course. Ms. Granger and Ms. Woods are always welcome. I'm not sure how many of your classmates you will find to be anywhere near your level of expertise, but perhaps you'll be lucky."

With that, the Headmaster left back to Hogwarts, leaving Harry to pack up and finally head home.

—

"Harry, stop fussing with your tie." Hermione whispered as they stood for a picture together in front of the station.

Mrs. Granger gushed over them while their fathers unloaded their trunks out of the car. Elise and Sam were standing nearby, huddled up in some private conversation Harry was extremely curious about.

Their rather large group walked to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters together before breaking off into their families for their final goodbye. Sam had already boarded and was apparently finding them seats.

Hermione was currently crushed in a hug from both her parents, and Harry was trying not to drag her out of it. He was more than a little excited to get there. Sam had told them so many stories of her time at school and Harry had found each and every one extremely fascinating.

Finally, Hermione broke free from her parents' grasp. Together they hurried onto the express to find Sam.

Harry led the way, sensing her magic quite a ways away. When they found her, he almost fell over from shock. There, before his eyes was his sister kissing a boy. Hermione gasped, alerting the two third-years inside the cart.

Sam whipped around, face extremely hot with embarrassment. "You're here-?!" She managed, standing up and motioning wildly for them to come in.

Hermione practically threw her stuff in the cart and flew into the seat across from them, eager for the story. Harry stood rooted to the spot, a smirk growing on his face.

"I'm gonna tell dad you're snogging boys on the train." He laughed.

Sam swatted at him, already annoyed. "I am not 'snogging boys on the train' you idiot. I kissed one boy on the cheek for Godric's sake. I was saying thank you!?" The justification felt like a lie, but she truly was just thanking him for putting her trunks up.

"Mm…I'm still gonna tell." He shrugged. "And who are you, Mister guy-my-sister-was-making-out-with?" He walked into the cart, shutting the door and sitting next to Hermione.

"My name's Everette. Everette Whitmore. I promise there was nothing nefarious happening, your sister has my utmost respect." He held his hands up and smiled awkwardly.

"Nothing nefarious he says, as if I didn't catch you committing a grave sin." Harry shook his head, feigning intense disappointment.

"Oh, leave them alone." Hermione elbowed him. "I'm Hermione Granger, lovely to meet you. I see you're a Hufflepuff!"

"I am. Nice to meet you Hermione, I've heard quite a lot about you both." Everette looked a little more comfortable now.

Harry grumbled something unintelligible.

"So, are you excited for the sorting?" Everette asked. "Sam thinks you'll go straight to Ravenclaw, but I have a different theory."

Hermione beamed. "Absolutely, though I'm not sure if I know where I'll end up. I think I've always been of the opinion that it's better not to go in with expectations. Wherever I'm placed, I just hope I get to see my friends and make the best of my time."

"Of course." Everette nodded.

"I'm gonna be in Gryffindor with Sammy." Harry sighed. "I'll never escape her."

"Oh shut up already, Harry. You know you love me." Sam shook her head.

"I guess."

Sam threw a quill at him, narrowly missing his head.

"She's already trying to kill me." He looked at Everette helplessly.

The older boy laughed. "I hear you're quite the quidditch enthusiast. I'm on Hufflepuff's team. We should fly soon, once you get settled in with your classes and friends."

Harry perked up immediately at the mention of quidditch. "Of course! We can do races."

Everette nodded, thoroughly amused by Harry's enthusiasm.

–

When it came time to separate the first years so that they could get on the boats, Harry and Hermione linked elbows to stay together. Hagrid, a half-giant a part of the order, held a lantern nearby, directing the children to the docks.

Harry recognized him, but he hadn't been around the order in a long time, he wondered if the man would remember him.

"First years, gather 'round! No more'n four to a boat!" The man yelled at the throng of children.

Suddenly, they locked eyes. "Harry?"

"Er, yes sir?" He replied clumsily.

Harry watched as the man's kind eyes gave him a once over, not missing how they shined with barely disguised sadness as he did so. He offered a shy smile.

"You've grown quite a bit, there haven't ye?"

"Yes sir, It's been a few years since you've seen me." Harry chuckled.

He sighed, motioning for the kids to board a boat with him. "Names Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper at Hogwarts." He introduced himself to Hermione, shaking her much smaller hand gently. "I'm glad yer doin' well, Harry. To tell you the truth, I didn't want te leave ye with those muggles. Didn't seem right in the head, y'know?" He glanced around. "Though I s'pose you don't wanna talk about all that."

Harry grimaced at the mention of the Dursleys. Though he'd long since stopped crying and having nightmares about them, that didn't mean he cared to reminisce. He knew Hagrid hadn't meant anything by it, and well, he did say he hadn't wanted to leave him at the house. Harry knew the ministry had pulled some sketchy moves with the Potters' will when Dumbledore was incapable of defending him, and this man was by no means at fault for following orders he didn't truly understand the consequences of.

"Everybody in a boat?" Hagrid yelled at the crowd, double checking for himself. "Right then, FORWARD!"

The boats set off, all heading towards the castle.

"Hagrid, my name is Hermione Granger, and I have to ask, how are these boats getting to the castle without us rowing?" Her ever-inquisitive mind running a mile a minute as she looked around the lake.

Hagrid chuckled. "Magic o'course. We should get to the school any minute."

Hermione smiled, of course it was by magic, but she wanted to know how. She would just have to do her own research later she supposed.

They were dropped off and led into the castle. Harry, of course, stuck with his Hermione. They waited patiently and quietly at the top of the staircase. Hagrid had left them just a few minutes ago, letting them know that Professor McGonagall would be there to bring them in shortly.

Nerves filled the hall as first years swapped stories of Hogwarts from their siblings and parents. Harry listened, taking it all in. A red-headed boy with freckles was rocking nervously on his feet near them. Harry recognized him as Ron Weasley. They had met in passing a few times, but Harry didn't remember much about him other than how obsessed he was with quidditch and sweets.

Next to Ron was another boy Harry recognized as the Longbottom heir. He had met Madam Augusta Longbottom once while in Diagon Alley with his parents. Neville had been there too, but he was so shy they didn't end up speaking. Other than those two, Harry didn't recognize a single other child in their vicinity. He was sure that at least some of them would turn out to be good company at school, but for now they were merely strangers starting the same journey.

"Oi, Potter." A voice tore him from his thoughts.

A blonde boy with sharp grey eyes stood a few feet away between two large boys. His sneer did not go unnoticed. Harry raised a brow, staying by Hermione's side.

"Can I help you?"

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He strode over to him in quick elegant steps, offering his hand to shake.

"Right." Harry shook his hand, getting a weird vibe from him that he couldn't quite describe.

Hermione felt it too, grabbing his shirt sleeve gently and giving him a look.

"Thought I'd introduce myself and offer company. Wouldn't want you hanging around…the wrong sort.

Harry didn't miss the way his grey eyes held the three people he was surrounded by in utter contempt. He lingered particularly long on Hermione, studying her face. Then, to finish off his already rather tactless comment, he scoffed at her, clearly disgusted.

"Right, well I think I can choose who I spend my time with just fine on my own. Thank you, heir Malfoy." His anger shone through his respectful response, his hand already reaching for his wand out of habit.

Malfoy's sneer intensified, but before he could say anything else they heard the clacking of footsteps coming near the door that separated them from the rest of the school. The door swung open, and the chatter from the Great Hall came flowing through.

"Good evening, students." Professor McGonagall called from the doorway. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Chapter Text

~Chapter X~

~The Sorting~

Professor McGonagall had led them into the great hall, instructing them to remain quiet and calm while she called the names and sorted them into their houses. Harry was immediately drawn to the Sorting Hat on its stool near the faculty table.

Its frayed and patched exterior was exactly as his dad had described, now all that he had to see was the supposed song.

Older students cheered and waved as they walked through them, and the first years smiled bashfully in return. Hermione noticed that several people were staring at Harry as he walked. Hermione also noted the Headmaster, standing at the end of the hall in an outfit she could only describe as “eclectic”.

The third thing Hermione noticed drew an awestruck gasp from her lips. The true splendour of the Great Hall finally registered. Imagery she’d read in Hogwarts: a History came to life now as she practically floated through it, taking in every detail. Thousands of candles lit up the room, and the enchanted ceiling painted a gorgeous picture of the night sky. She saw other first years slowly become enraptured by the scenery as well.

Finally, they stopped just before the faculty table and waited patiently as McGonagall pulled out a long roll of parchment. Then the hat sang its song.

Harry grinned wildly at Hermione, and she offered a halfhearted one in return, he thought this was incredibly amusing. As it finished, Professor McGonagall suddenly became the centre of attention once more.

She stood next to the stool and cleared her throat, prompting silence. Her stern eyes searched the crowd before flitting down to the now unfurled parchment. 

“The sorting ceremony is simple, you will each be called to sit on the stool and let the hat sort you into your houses. After it calls your house, you may go sit at your table.” She instructed, eyes never leaving the nervous first years. “Alright then, let the sorting begin. Abbot, Hannah!”

One by one, names were called, Harry rocked anxiously on his heels waiting for his name. Hermione was the first of their little duo to be called of course, and she bolted up to the sorting hat with barely contained glee.

The hat seemed to consider her options for a time, quite a bit longer than most, but ultimately came to a decisive conclusion. 

“Gryffindor.” It said.

She hurried off to the Gryffindor table, smiling brightly at her new housemates, they greeted her warmly. Sam grabbed her in a hug before she could sit down, and the older Weasley boys all shouted their congratulations from nearby. Harry could have sworn he heard Everette yelling “I told you so!” over the crowd.

Neville was the second name he recognized, his last name starting with an L. He sat on the stool, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek as the hat was placed on his head. Harry watched expectantly, curious for this outcome.

“Gryffindor.” The hat called.

Neville got up and made his way over to the Gryffindor table, beaming the whole way. He plopped down in the seat next to Hermione who started talking to him excitedly. Harry was honestly a little shocked, the boy looked like he might be afraid of his own shadow, but maybe he would surprise him.

“Malfoy, Draco.” Professor McGonagall called.

Harry almost laughed when he strutted up to the stool like he owned the place. He sort of  resembled a peacock…but maybe that was too forgiving, perhaps a ferret made more sense.

The hat barely graced his head before it gave a confident, “SLYTHERIN!”

Harry waited several more minutes for McGonagall to get to the “P’s”. He counted down vowels as she breezed past Parkinson, Patil, Perks, and finally:

“Potter, Harry.”

The hall grew quiet as he made his way to the stool. He tried his best not to grimace at the way people were looking at him. McGonagall placed the hat on his head and he closed his eyes, begging to be placed in Gryffindor with Hermione and Sam.

“So, you want Gryffindor?” Harry’s eyes popped open, wondering who said that. “I must say this is quite the difficult decision, boy.” It was then Harry realized the person speaking must, of course, be the hat. “Your heart is set on Gryffindor, but I see much potential for other houses. You show fierce loyalty to your family and friends—hufflepuff might suit you nicely. Yes…but I see you’re not totally lacking in wisdom either, you might benefit from Ravenclaw.”

Harry considered the hat’s words, but inside he could only think of going through school without his friends, and that made him anxious. He decided he would be brave enough to get through it and resolved to just one condition:

“Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin.” He mumbled.

“Not Slytherin…why not? You would do well in Slytherin, the house of cunning leaders, ambitious in their efforts to change the world. Why wouldn’t you want that?”

“I want to be in Gryffindor…” Harry mumbled, almost annoyed by this point.

“Fine, fine. Gryffindor will suit you nicely I suppose. Gryffindor!” The hat called—out loud this time.

The hall erupted in noise. Harry for one, was calling to his friends as he ran over to them. The Gryffindor table was cheering much louder than they had for any other first year that joined, and the other houses were making just as much noise. Some for the loss of the boy-who-lived being a part of their house, others (just Slytherin) out of mild distaste for the boy in general. The general consensus however, was this: Harry Potter was now an official student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and everyone was eager to see what became of him.

He sat on the other side of Hermione, laughing when she pulled him in for one of her classic bone-crushing hugs. Sam got him next, ruffling his hair and patting him on the back. Several older Gryffindor introduced themselves. Three Weasleys made themselves known. Hermione noticed the oldest, Percy, had a prefect badge fastened to his robes.

Once Harry was properly acquainted with several new people, he had a good look at the Faculty. Hagrid sat at one end of the table, smiling widely at him. He gave a little wave. A nervous looking man in a purple turban stared awkwardly at the table, Harry wondered what he taught. Professor McGonagall was of course still calling names, and the only other faculty Harry thought worth noting was Albus Dumbledore himself.

The Headmaster sat in the centre of the High Table in a large golden chair. He looked over the students with a kind, grandfatherly smile.

He noticed Hermione looking at them too, and noted she seemed particularly put off by the man in dark robes near the man in the turban. He gave the man a once-over, deciding the best way to describe would be “cruel looking” or “greasy”—he couldn’t place which one was more prominent. As he studied him, they caught each other’s eye and Harry felt his body tense. Something about his stare was so unsettling. His eyes darted back to the table as he tuned back into the name calling.

“Weasley, Ronald.” McGonagall said.

The ginger haired boy walked up to the stool nervously, Neville commented that he looked seasick to which Harry and Hermione both chuckled quietly. 

The hat considered him only for a moment before shouting “Gryffindor!”

His brothers cheered loudly, patting his back as he joined them. Hermione offered a smile as he sat across from them, while Neville struck up conversation with a boy who’d sat nearby not long ago, Dean Thomas. Harry offered the youngest Weasley a handshake, and watched the boy’s face light up with joy.

The remaining names were called, ending with Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin. With the sorting ceremony finished, the hat was sent back to where it was kept and McGonagall returned to her seat at the right of the Headmaster.

Harry’s stomach growled as he glanced at the empty table, wondering when they would get to eat. Just as he was about to mention it to Hermione; the Headmaster stood up to address the students.

“Welcome students—to the start of a new term.” He announced, his voice carrying through the Great Hall loudly.

Cheers and clapping erupted, and he smiled. “Just a few beginning term announcements to make before we begin the feast. As always, the forbidden forest on Hogwarts grounds is forbidden to all students.” There was a pause that felt like he might be calling out someone specific. “Also, Mr. Filch has asked that I remind you that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes for ‘educational purposes’ or otherwise. Quidditch tryouts will be held in the second week of term, and lastly, the third floor corridor is forbidden to anyone who does not wish to die a terribly long and painful death.” The room fell silent at that last part. 

“Is he stupid?” Hermione commented under her breath.

The Weasley twins glanced at her with a mix of confusion and admiration.

“He’s made it a big deal and now students are going to be curious and go looking for what’s being held there. He should have just had the wards made to make that part of the castle not accessible to students.” She clarified, rolling her eyes.

The twins nodded slowly, “Gred?” One of them said.

“Yes, Forge?” The other one answered.

“We should really try—“

“Not to piss her off—“

“Lest she use that head of hers—“

“Against us.”

The twins spoke in a confusing tangle of cutting each other off and finishing the other’s thoughts. Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, equally intrigued but also disturbed by this.

“You’ll get used to it.” Percy sighed from somewhere down the table.

“Let the feast begin!” Came Dumbledore’s final statement, and Harry realized they had effectively ignored most of his welcome speech. 

All thoughts quickly vanished though, as food appeared in front of them. Harry quickly dished servings of chicken onto his and Hermione’s plate and passed the dish to Neville while she put a serving of potatoes on his plate. They made quick work of trying their meals, sighing contently when the food was as delicious as it looked.

Harry couldn’t help but think about what Hermione had said. She was right, though she perhaps shouldn't have called the Headmaster stupid. Whatever was hidden in the third-floor corridor was likely just as dangerous as he’d made it out to be, so why even mention it? Now everyone was going to be wondering about it constantly.

He decided to distract himself by talking to some of their new acquaintances. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Lavender Brown were all sorted into Gryffindor with them. 

Harry quite liked Dean, he was a muggle-born, much like Hermione. He likes football and action movies, and that was enough to solidify a friendship between him and Harry.

Seamus was alright, a halfblood who, though slightly dimwitted, seemed to have a good heart.

Lavender was hard to talk to. Harry noticed that she instantly didn't like Hermione that much, but he supposed it had mostly to do with their completely opposite personalities rather than anything rude on her part. He decided he didn’t care for her much either, to be fair, and left it at that.

Soon, they had all eaten their fill and were to be escorted to their common rooms by their new prefects. With schedules being handed out and their trek through the castle, the corridors were buzzing with chatter and excitement. Percy led them to their new home for the next seven years. The portrait guarding the entrance to their dorm, the fat lady, asked for a password. Percy gave it, and suggested they learn it now, as it was the only way in.

After a quick goodbye to Hermione, Harry made his way up to their dorm room with the other first-year boys. Their trunks were all arranged, and their uniforms for the next day were laid out nicely.

Harry grinned when he realized he and Neville’s beds were next to each other. He quite liked the boy from the little they talked at dinner.  Ron was on his other side. They got ready for bed quickly and Harry dozed off almost immediately, dreams of adventures and dueling filling his mind.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XI~

~First Thing’s First~

Harry awoke much earlier than he was used to, eager to start his day. He got dressed, tying his new red and gold tie around his neck as the finishing touch and heading down to the common room to write home. His perch of choice was a table near the fireplace, mostly because it was in direct view of the armchair Hermione was currently reading in.

She had yet to register his presence, and he was trying to keep it that way. She valued her silence in the morning. So, he wrote his letter and pulled out his schedule, deciding to do some preemptive studying. Potions was first, and he was very excited–despite hearing the Professor was hard on the students. 

Soon it was 7:20 and Hermione was in front of him, her book bag over her shoulder and a smile on her face.

“Ready for breakfast?” She asked.

“Absolutely…should we wait for Sam though?” He glanced around the common room, noticing several students up and about now.

“No need.” Came the groggy voice of Sam as she lazily made her way over.

The three of them left then, getting to the Great Hall just as breakfast had started. They sat down and dug in. Shortly after they had sat down, they were greeted by some of the other first years. 

“Mind if I sit?” Ron asked from across the table.

“Go ahead.” Harry nodded.

He noticed the ginger boy looked beyond exhausted. He’d heard him tossing and turning last night, perhaps he’d never quite fallen asleep.

“You look like you could use some pepper-up…” Harry sighed. “Sammy, you got any?”

“Uhhh, no but Ev probably does one second.” She sighed, getting up to go find him at the Hufflepuff table.

Harry watched her closely. She found him almost instantly, and his face absolutely lit up when she called his name. He handed her the potion without a second thought, and grabbed her hand as she turned to go, talking about something rather nervously.

“Ugh, they totally like each other.” Hermione said, apparently also watching them. “I mean, could you make it any more obvious?”

“Ew.” 

“Be nice to your sister Harry, she's in love.” Hermione faked a gushy sigh.

Ron chuckled, looking over at the two third-years. “They do look pretty enamored with each other.”

They watched as Sam backed away, their hands sliding out of each other’s grasp with such deliberate hesitance it was almost awkward to watch.

“Yikes.” Harry cringed.

Sam returned with the potion and handed it to Harry, oblivious to the looks the three first-years were currently giving her.

Harry handed the potion over to Ron carefully. “Drink up.”

“Thanks mate, I owe you.” He said, downing it in one swig.

“So, Ron, are you excited for class?” Harry asked as he got back around to eating.

“Er…not really. I’m not very good at school.” He shrugged. “I am excited for quidditch though.”

“I thought I remembered you being a big fan.” Harry smiled.

“Oh yea, huge. I love it.” Ron’s face lit up.

“You’ll have to let him give you some pointers Harry, you’ve been slacking I hear.” Hermione chuckled.

“Okay, I lost one game to Sam recently. One. And none of you will let me live.” He threw his hand up in fake exasperation.

Ron laughed with the group. “You guys play a lot?”

“Loads. Our dad taught us a long time ago.” Sam explained.

Ron seemed to consider her statement, then looked between the two of them curiously. “I’m sorry, I thought you were like…the Harry Potter. I mean, that’s just what everyone was saying you know so I…er…”

Harry fought back a sigh. “I am the Harry Potter. The story just doesn't go like everyone thinks it does.”

“Oh.” Ron nodded. “So you two are siblings?”

“Yep.” Sam flicked the back of Harry’s head. “He’s adopted.”

“So are you?” Harry looked at her incredulously.

“Details, details…” She waved her hand around mockingly. 

“Do you not remember seeing us at those order meetings?” Harry asked, momentarily forgetting it was probably best the order go unmentioned in public.

“Not really, I don’t remember much from back then though, so don’t take it personally. I know Sam from the twins I guess, though.” His last remark carried an edge, as if he wasn’t the biggest fan of her.

Harry noted that for later. “Well, now you know. Anyway, we better wrap it up if we wanna be on time for class.”

Hermione nodded, acknowledging her empty plate. “I’m just waiting on you.”

–

Potions class had been…less than fun. Harry was trying to remain positive on the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it was growing increasingly difficult. 

Professor Snape turned out to be the cruel looking man Harry had noticed at the Welcoming Feast. His seemingly unwarranted and outward dislike for Harry baffled him, but what could he do? He sighed.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t know why he acted like that.” Hermione said, a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine…” Harry offered weakly. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

Just then, they arrived at their class. Joined by the Ravenclaws, the first year Gryffindors all settled into their seats, waiting for the Professor to begin. 

Professor Quirrell turned out to be the man in the purple turban. Harry couldn’t shake the absolutely overpowering feeling of discomfort the man brought him, but decided to power through the lesson. He was twitchy and mumbled through half his words, making him hard to understand, but Hermione took diligent notes nonetheless.

–

Lunch rolled around and Harry was having a lengthy discussion about muggle sports with Dean and Neville. Seamus was talking to Ron about chess nearby and Hermione was nowhere to be found. It was only about halfway through lunch that Harry finally mentioned this, and she just so happened to walk through the door. 

Next to her was Sam, one arm around her shoulders and a bright smile on both their faces. Sam spoke eagerly about something, and Hermione nodded along. They sat opposite Harry, Neville, and Dean and continued their conversation while helping themselves to some food.

Harry and Neville shrugged, turning back to their conversation with Dean. Down the table, Lavender and Parvati were locked in discussion about some gossip column, effectively tuning out everything and everyone else. Harry thought this was much more enjoyable than his first two classes, deciding school really wasn’t that bad.

“So, football is a lot like quidditch then?” Neville asked.

“Eh, sort of. Same basic principles when it comes to getting a ball through a goal– although by that logic, almost all sports are the same idea, so…” Dean shrugged. “We’ll just have to show you sometime, won’t we, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “Maybe over break I’ll invite you two over and we can play a few games with my dad.” Harry smiled. “That reminds me, do you want to come with me to mail my letter guys?” Harry didn’t really specify who he was inviting, but it was pretty obvious when Neville and Hermione agreed quickly. 

“Harry, how was Potions?” Sam asked. “Snape can be an ass–sorry, a jerk–but he is undoubtedly amazing at his craft.” She sighed. “He’s hardest on Gryffindors, but try not to take it personally, it really has nothing to do with us.”

Harry frowned. “It seemed pretty personal when he called me out in front of the class three times and took points away even though I answered his ridiculous questions correctly.”

“Oh!” She looked slightly surprised. “Well he did have that thing with James I guess…”

The first years listening in all blinked in surprise, the strange implication causing them to short circuit. She didn’t seem to notice until several seconds into their shock. Harry had been told countless stories about his parents by all the adults that knew him. Not once had Snape been mentioned though, how strange to think one of his teachers went to school with his parents.

“Oh, I meant they had a rivalry in school. Over Lily.” She laughed. “Only stories of course, but man they’re kind of funny to think about. Anyway, everyone knows you look just like James, he’s probably taking out his buried anger on you. What a moron.”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Great.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous!” Hermione crossed her arms. “He shouldn’t be allowed to do that. Any of what he’s doing really—I mean, come on! Not showing favoritism has to be one of the top three rules of being a teacher.” 

“I agree, but I don’t think he cares about that very much. Plus, Dumbledore isn’t taking any complaints against him seriously right now, he apparently has other things to worry about. Your best bet is bringing it up with Professor McGonagall and asking her for help.” Samantha turned back to her food then. 

Harry considered her words, he had yet to see him since the Welcoming Feast, considering he probably had Headmaster duties to attend to. Of course there was also the obvious impending doom that he swore was happening. Harry knew he was busy, but this was getting out of hand.

“Harry, what did you think about our last lesson?” Hermione had pulled out her notes and was reviewing them while he pondered his Dumbledore dilemma.

“Uhh…Honestly? It was hard to stay focused, but the textbook was interesting. I think with a different Professor I might actually enjoy that class.”

“How do you mean?” Hermione looked up from her notes. 

“I dunno, he was just like…twitchy and annoying.” Harry flushed guiltily at his insult, knowing Hermione would reprimand him for it.

She never got to though, a deep voice cut through her thoughts.

“Are we talking about Quirrell?” Everette said, a smirk on his face. “That guy sucks at teaching. If you wanna learn defense, talk to an older student and get them to tutor you.” 

“Ev, don’t influence the kids too much, they have to come up with their own opinions.” Sam shook her head, smiling up at him. 

“Sorry, but I stand by what I said.” He moved to sit next to her.

Harry noticed his accent was different than theirs, and now Harry was curious.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

“Yes, please tell us, I’ve been trying to figure it out.” Hermione added, apparently also very bothered.

“Oh, I grew up in Texas.” He chuckled. “My uncle  works at the ministry here though, and he’s the only magic family I got.”

“America.” Harry said, taking a bite of something off Sam’s plate. “Aren’t you technically from there?”

“Sort of.” Sam shrugged. “That’s part of how we became friends actually. I discovered that we were actually from the same area. Born in the same hospital and everything.” She smiled at him.

“Yup.” Everette held his hand out dramatically. “It must have been destiny.”

Sam snickered. “Sure, something like that.”

Harry and Hermione shared a look. The two third years were sitting so close they were touching shoulders, and the looks he was giving her. Harry was disgusted, Hermione was thrilled.

“Anyway, yea–I’m a transfer. I actually have another friend who came with me. He’s a Slytherin, his aunt and uncle also work here in the ministry. If you ever run into a Jackson Becker, tell him you know me and he’ll be nice.” 

With that cleared up, they all headed to their next things. 

-

When classes were done and Harry had amended his letter to include the events of the day, his trio lounged around the Gryffindor common room, each one of them holding a book.

“Oi, Potter.” He called, standing above the couch Harry was currently sitting on. 

Harry looked up. “Yea?”

“Chess?” He grinned, handing Harry a black knight.

Harry smirked. “Why not.”

They sat down to play, and Hermione and Sam moved to watch. It was common knowledge by now that Ron was pretty much a master at wizard’s chess. Hermione couldn’t comprehend it really. How could someone who’s normally so brainless be so good at such a difficult strategy game? His third largest obsession after quidditch and chess was eating, and all who had to witness his usual gluttony were generally left appetite-less after.

“Your move.” Ron said, his eyes scanning the board with expert precision.

Hermione listened to Harry’s next move. 

“Bishop to E3.”

Her eyes scanned the board just as closely as Ron’s. What Ron didn’t know was that Harry had been training strategy relentlessly for the past couple years of his life. He might not be a chess master, but he was certainly a worthy opponent.

Ron moved, Harry moved. The game continued. A few people stopped to watch, it wasn’t often that a game with Ronald lasted longer than ten minutes. Finally, just when Hermione was about to leave because her feet hurt, Ron let out a breath he was apparently holding.

“Queen to D6.”

Harry sighed. “Checkmate, damn.”

“Language, Harry.” Hermione muttered.

“Checkmate indeed.” Ron sat back heavily. “Good game, you almost beat me.” He reached out his hand to shake.

Harry took it, smiling. “Next time.”

Sam scoffed. “Losers.” She grabbed Hermione and pulled her back to the couches, eager to talk about her first day some more. Neville sat near them, studying. Harry joined them eventually, deciding to look over and compare notes with Neville for a while.

–

At ten o’clock, Harry and Neville bid Hermione and Sam goodnight, heading up to their dorm room. Ron was already snoring loudly in his bed. Dean and Seamus were in the showers and their only other roommate was currently staring daggers at Ron. 

“Alright there, uhh…?” Neville asked, prompting the boy to introduce himself.

“My name’s Tyler, is there any way to fairly shut him up?” He sighed. “I’m a light sleeper and his snoring is impossible to ignore. I don’t want to smother him or anything but…”

Harry chuckled. “Sure, one second.”

He pulled out his wand and sent a silencing charm at Ron’s curtains, then pulled them closed. The snoring immediately cut out and the room filled with a comfortable silence. He was glad Ron seemed to be sleeping better than last night, but couldn’t help but agree with Tyler, that snoring was incredibly obnoxious.

“Much better!” He said, grinning. 

“Glad I could help.” Harry and Neville made their way over to their trunks, preparing to get ready for bed.

“I’ve never seen you at any of the gatherings we held, Potter.” Tyler said, catching their attention once more. “Not that I blame you of course, they’re awfully boring.”

“Gatherings?” Harry asked.

“Yea, all the heirs of Noble houses are invited to gatherings a few times a year. Solidifies connections and all that.”

Harry glanced at Neville.

“It’s true, now that you mention it, I do recognize you from a few of those.” Neville smiled. “He’s right, they are incredibly boring.”

“Well, I suppose they didn’t bother inviting me after my parents passed away. Or maybe my mum just never took me.” He shrugged. “Are they important?”

“Not particularly, unless you’re a pureblood supremacist who's trying to inspire others to follow you with pretty words and shiny coins.” Tyler rolled his eyes. “It’s really just an excuse for our fathers to spend time influencing us and each other.”

“You’ll probably be formally invited to the next one, since you’ve officially been put back into society.” Neville sighed. “At the very least, you’ll be going simply because I’m making you go for my company.”

“Count me in on that group please.” Tyler collapsed back into his bed. “I hate sitting alone at those things.”

“Sure.” Neville shrugged.

Harry went to bed that night hopeful his classes for the next day might be better than today’s. Still, he fell asleep with a smile, knowing he and his friends would soon be thriving here in the wizarding world.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XII~

~Troll in the Dungeons~

The next weeks of Hogwarts were full of much of the same. Neville took a liking to Herbology, while Hermione favored Charms. Harry was just glad to be there with his friends really—though he supposed if he had to pick a favourite subject, transfiguration would probably win.

On the second week of classes, Harry was surprised at breakfast when a snowy white owl came gliding down to him. A letter attached to her leg spoke of how his mum had seen her in a shop in Diagon Alley and knew Harry would love her.

He did, and she was quite possibly the best owl anyone could ask for. She was brilliant, to the point where you wondered just how much she could understand you. Harry wrote back a thank you to his parents immediately and watched her go, eager for her to come back.

Also that week, flying lessons had begun. Harry was quite experienced on the broom already, but the school’s brooms were so shoddy, even he doubted himself in the first lesson. That day had been equally one of the best and worst so far.

Malfoy stalked up to Harry with a sneer, intent on insulting him for something or another, when he noticed Neville first. Of course, he switched all his malice to the timid boy, which made him upset. 

The final straw came when Malfoy swiped the Remembrall from Neville’s pocket, a gift his grandmother had sent him a few days prior. He flew up high enough so that Neville couldn’t reach him and taunted him with it for a few seconds. Neville got on his broom to give chase, and promptly fell off, spraining his wrist.

Malfoy and his new goons laughed as he groaned in pain while being escorted to the Hospital Wing by Madam Hooch.

“Mister Malfoy, both feet on the ground this instant. I want none of you in the air while I’m gone, is that clear?” She had said.

No one answered, all too stunned by her snapping at Malfoy.

“Is. That. Clear?” She seethed.

A chorus of “yes ma’am” had her nodding confidently and going on her way. Harry was not watching her though, because Malfoy was back in the air.

“Malfoy, Madam Hooch told us to stay on the ground…” he warned.

“What, Potter, are you afraid of that hag? Or are you just mad I made your little boyfriend angry?” He chuckled from his broom.

The Slytherins all whispered to each other, pointing and laughing at Harry. Hermione gripped his arm while he fumed, shaking her head. He ignored her warning and hopped up on his broom too.

“What, are you going to take this back from me? How heroic.” Malfoy deadpanned, tossing the Remembrall up and down.

Harry narrowed his eyes, holding the blonde boy’s gaze.

“Fine.” He muttered. “Fetch.”

Malfoy tossed it high, spinning around on his broom to whack it like a bat. The Remembrall went careening towards the castle wall, and Harry was off like a rocket, intent on saving it. He pressed the broom as fast as it would go, practically glued to it as he reached his hand out.

His fingers closed around it successfully and he pulled up just before crashing into the wall. He beamed down at the crowd victoriously, noticing Hermione with her eyes covered, which only made him laugh.

The Slytherins were unamused, Malfoy in particular, who was sulking on the ground now. Harry landed next to his best friend and patted her on the shoulder.

“Sorry for scaring you.” He muttered, before being swarmed by Gryffindors, impressed by his stunt.

“Wicked job, mate.” Ron congratulated. “You showed that bigoted prick!”

Harry laughed.

“You’re lucky Madam Hooch didn’t catch you two…” Hermione whispered as they all settled down.

“What can I say?” Harry shrugged, smiling coyly.

“Stop that.” She rolled her eyes, but a faint smile found its way onto her face.

Madam Hooch returned only minutes later, resuming the lesson as if nothing had happened. Harry went the rest of the day thinking he’d gotten away with his rule breaking—until dinner that is.

“Mister Potter, please come see me in my office after you have finished eating.” Professor McGonagall stared at him coolly.

Harry couldn’t discern what emotion was behind her cat-like eyes, but still, he agreed. He spent the entire meal in fear of what was to come, already preparing his apology letter home for getting in trouble. It was only Hermione noting that had he been in real trouble, she would have probably just assigned him detention then and there, rather than this roundabout method that had him remotely calmer.

Turns out she had indeed seen his little stunt, only he wasn’t in trouble. Instead, he’d been offered the position of seeker on the Gryffindor team. His eyes shone with excitement the whole walk back to the common room. 

McGonagall had advised him not to announce this change yet, otherwise he would have been jumping around the couches from his glee. He decided to tell Hermione, Neville, and Sam in private though, just to get it off his chest. They congratulated him of course, and that was that.

Not much else had happened since then, and Harry couldn’t decide how he felt about that. It was now schoolwide knowledge that Harry was the new Gryffindor seeker, but that excitement had long since died down, which Harry was grateful for. 

He fell into a routine quite easily after that. Wake up early to do some light training exercises to prepare for quidditch. Breakfast and review with Hermione, Neville, and whoever else wanted to participate came next. Then it was classes and lunch. Finally, he would enjoy dinner and do homework in the common room or library after with Hermione.

It was a good routine, and he enjoyed it, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. He never had shaken the uneasiness that came with being around Quirrell and Snape, no matter how hard he tried.  But, the latter of the two was the only one who gave him any real problems.

 Just a week ago, Snape had given Harry detention in the Forbidden Forest of all places. Hermione was right pissed at them for “ruining their school record”, even though Snape had instigated the entire interaction that landed them here. 

The real kicker for Harry had been that he had also assigned Draco and Ronald detention. So, he spent several hours leading up to the detention grumbling about that.

Hagrid was in charge of taking the three boys along. Their task seemed like an easy one, find and help a wounded unicorn, but it had not been pleasant.

The forest was dark and cold. Harry was at least grateful for the other’s presence in the end when they were separated from Hagrid. They followed each other in silence, with Ron leading the way holding a lantern.

Harry had to admire the ginger boy’s bravery that night, because if it weren’t for him, they all might have died. Draco saw the thing first, crouching over the unicorn. He squeaked out a warning, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and pointing at it. Harry braced himself for an attack, feeling his breath hitch and his heart pound violently in his chest.

Ronald was not intent on waiting to be attacked though, and promptly charged the thing, the lantern brandished above his head like a weapon. Harry followed behind him quickly, prepping a stunning spell, but as they neared it fled the scene.

Harry dropped near the dead unicorn, staring at it sadly. It was only then that Hagrid came back, ushering them back to the castle.

He had not slept well since, picturing the humanoid creature attacking the unicorn almost every night. Draco had vowed to never return to the forest, too shaken to even remember the night clearly. Ron simply felt upset he hadn’t been able to take down the attacker.

In Harry’s insomnia, he had found himself missing his family. A hug would have fixed him right up, he thought. Luckily, Hermione took it upon herself to give him plenty of those since that night, worried for him.

It was one of those hugs that he found himself in now, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her own.

“Let’s take a shortcut to the Great Hall, you’re obviously not feeling well.” She sighed, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt look within them. “I’ll lead.”

She took him through a couple of corridors, intent on getting him some food as quickly as possible. Their trek saw them passing through the third floor corridor that was currently off limits, but Hermione decided she didn’t care. She stalked past the door, missing the man in the dark black robe sneaking into the forbidden area entirely.

But Harry saw.

“Hermione!” He said, whipping back around. “Someone’s trying to get into the place Dumbledore warned us about.” He whispered his observation, trying to see who it was from a distance.

Hermione looked too. “That’s strange. They look like they’re sneaking in, like they’re not supposed to be there…” she muttered, noticing the figure’s shifty movements.

She had convinced him not to investigate, begging him to eat and rest first. He did, despite the burning desire to get to the bottom of the strange situation. That was a few days ago now, and it was now Halloween. 

Harry headed to the Great Hall for dinner with Neville, having just finished a few extra practice quidditch rounds. They had agreed to wait for Hermione outside the Hall, since she opted to go to the library instead of joining them for quidditch.

Sam and Everette passed them first, which Harry found curious. Hermione usually joined Samantha and their friend Olivia in the library, rather than studying alone. 

“That’s odd…” Harry heard Neville mutter.

“What’s odd?” 

“Well, here comes Olivia, but no Hermione.” Neville shrugged. “Maybe she was studying alone?”

Harry shrugged, trying to ignore the feeling of unease that flooded his body.

“Liv!” He called.

“Yes, Harry?” She answered, stopping beside them.

“Where’s Hermione?” Neville asked.

“You mean she’s not with you two?” Olivia glanced around, only just now realizing Hermione was, in fact, not present.

“No, she was in the library. Said she wanted to study for the upcoming test in transfiguration or something.” Harry explained.

“Well…I was in the library and I didn’t see her.” Olivia became tense all of a sudden. “Did something happen to Hermione?”

“Surely not, we’re probably overreacting.” Harry said nervously. “Maybe we missed her and she’s inside.”

Neville nodded, though his eyes still held uncertainty. Olivia led them into the hall then, looking out for their bushy-haired friend.

Samantha and Everette were watching the doors, watching for them. The Weasley clan was bunched up nearby them, and most of the other first years sat in their regular seats. Harry’s eyes scanned the table three times as they approached—no Hermione in sight.

“Where’s my favourite bookworm?” Sam questioned jokingly as they got close.

Their eyes must have betrayed their fear, because her expression became serious very quickly.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up to reach for Harry’s arm.

“We don’t know where she is, we can’t find her.” Harry mumbled.

Sam paused. “You know what, she’s probably in the bathroom or something. Let’s give her like five minutes, if she’s not back I’ll go look for her myself.” She smiled, pulling Harry down to sit next to her. “Besides, it’s the Halloween feast, you don’t wanna miss it.”

Harry had agreed, trying to calm himself down as Dumbledore summoned the food and they began to eat, but the minutes ticked by and still no sign of her. He could feel his heartbeat picking up by the second, something just wasn’t right.

“I’m going to find her.” He stood abruptly, startling people nearby.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go look for her.” Sam sighed. “I hope she’s okay…”

Just as the older girl stood, the doors to the great hall burst open.

“TROLL!” a strangled cry came from the twitchy Professor Harry disliked so much. “TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!”

He stumbled as he ran toward the faculty table, muttering something as he fell and promptly passed out. There was a beat of silence, then chaos erupted. Students were ushered to their rooms by prefects, and the faculty went to investigate the issue.

Harry and Sam looked at each other then, matching expressions of fear in their eyes. She was off at a sprint immediately, and Harry pulled Neville up to follow close behind. He vaguely heard Everette corralling scared first years as he left, and knew it would just be them three.

Through the halls they went, calling for Hermione. Harry was about to lose hope when they heard a loud crash followed by a scream.

Harry ran as fast as his eleven-year-old-legs let him, bursting into a girl’s restroom in a manner that probably would have been incredibly embarrassing under any other circumstances—but this was life or death.

“Harry, be careful!” Samantha called as she and Neville ran to catch up.

Harry paid her no mind, because a mountain troll was currently aiming a giant club down at his best friend. He felt his body move, his training coming back to him all at once. His wand shot up and he cast the first spell that came to mind.

“Stupefy!” The shout came from deep within his chest, and a burst of raw magic boosted his spell immensely.

The simple stunner slammed into the troll’s side, knocking it four feet backward and effectively saving Hermione’s life by mere seconds. The beast shook it off quickly though, and whipped to face him.

Neville and Sam burst into the room then, and promptly got into position. She fired a few more stunning spells, moving around the room to disorient him like she’d always practiced, but they didn’t hold him back for long. Neville tried one of his own, but his wand only sparked feebly. The timid boy grit his teeth at that, how could his magic fail him in a situation such as this?

Hermione crawled weakly toward them, badly hurt by the debris the troll had thrown around. Despite all danger involved, Sam threw herself toward the younger girl, pushing her out of the way and shielding her with her own body as the troll swung at them over and over again.

“Nev, I need you to focus! Help me knock him out!” Harry yelled over the troll’s smashing and grunting. 

“I’ll try my best!” Neville called back, bracing himself.

Harry nodded.

“Expelliarmus!” The red spell shot toward the troll as he raised his club high, shooting up in the air and slightly to the side.

Neville came up quickly behind him and shot his own spell.

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

The club froze and floated over toward the troll's head, who looked up at it confusedly. Just as it reached for it, Neville dropped the spell, causing it to careen downward and smash into the troll’s skull. A gross sounding crunch was followed by a deafening crash as the troll fell to the floor, dead.

As the dust settled, the only sound of the room was the heavy breathing of the four children, and hurt sniffles from Hermione. Sam held her sobbing figure while Harry and Neville stood nearby, unsure what to do. Seconds went by and she gently detached herself from the older girl before standing shakily.

“Harry-” Her voice came out weakly, and she stumbled over to him.

He met her half way, catching her as she fell. Her small hands dug into his back as she cried more, apologizing over and over again. Harry glanced at his sister who wore a worried expression. He pulled her closer, but just as he was about to try and console her, the door opened once more.

Professor McGonagall had seen a lot in her time at Hogwarts. Truly, there wasn’t much she hadn’t seen, but this was definitely new. Three first years and one third year standing above a dead mountain troll. She was going to need to ask Severus to brew her something strong tonight, that was for sure.

“Would you four care to explain yourselves?” Her question came out more exasperated than she intended, but truly that was more honest in the end.

The children all stood frozen, unsure what to do. She sighed.

“Clearly they are causing trouble, per usual.” Severus spoke up behind her. “Detention for all of you, and a hundred points from Gryffindor.” He seethed.

McGonagall turned to face him, her expression communicating nothing short of what the hell is wrong with you? He backed down immediately.

“Absolutely not.” She sighed again. “It takes a lot of courage to do what you four just did, and for that, I have to say I’m proud. However, you will never attempt to pull this kind of stunt again, understood?”

The children nodded, still staring wide-eyed at the band of Professors before them. Dumbledore nodded approvingly, and promptly set about getting the staff to clean up and repair the bathroom, while also suggesting they go get looked at by Madam Pomfrey.

“Twenty five points to each of you.” Professor McGonagall chuckled as she cancelled out Snape’s original deduction. “For the sole feat of not dying.”       

Chapter Text

~Chapter XIII~

~The Trials~

Halloween night had become something of a legend among the Gryffindors who knew about it. The story had long since been twisted to be much more dramatic than it actually was, but Harry couldn’t care less what the students thought of the whole ordeal. He was entirely focused on the events that led up to Hermione being in that bathroom during that time.

He remembered that night vividly. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying. Crying for much longer than the time the troll was there. So, what–or rather who–was responsible? He had a pretty good idea.

“Potter.” Harry turned to face the suspect in question.

The prissy blonde Slytherin boy had a smug smile on his face as he stood with his arms crossed in front of his gang of sympathizers. Harry grit his teeth as cold grey eyes held emerald green ones. He needed to keep his anger in check.

“What happened to your little mudblood pet?” Malfoy asked cockily. “Did you finally dispose of her?”

Harry turned to walk away. This was confirmation enough for what happened to make Hermione upset in the first place and he really didn't feel like arguing or starting any fights. Barely four paces in, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“I was talking to you, Potter. Don’t ignore me.” Malfoy’s voice was low, threatening.

“I will not stand and listen to you mock me and my friends Malfoy. Let go.” Harry jerked his arm out of the boy’s grasp, glaring at him icily.

Malfoy stood still for a moment, shock evident on his face. Had Harry cared enough to determine what had him so spooked, he might have realized the ominous glow surrounding his body, or the way the air grew significantly hotter around him–but alas, he did not, and simply returned to his original retreat.

–

Time had passed. Hermione was back to her happy, healthy self. Harry had confronted her about what happened with Malfoy. The result was exactly as he thought, just petty bullying for the sake of angering him. He apologized to her, promising he would do better to fend him off. 

The two had grown somewhat close to Hagrid in the past weeks. He knew a lot about Harry’s family, and liked telling stories and having company. It became a sort of routine for them to visit him once a week, which was how they found themselves unintentionally solving the mystery of the third floor corridor.

Harry had finally convinced Hermione to investigate the door, but their adventure was cut short by the giant cerberus blocking their path. The cerberus they later discovered belonged to Hagrid and who was “guarding something precious for the Headmaster” as the half-giant had accidentally revealed.

–

“This is honestly, truly, the dumbest thing I’ve let you rope me into.” Hermione sighed as they crept past the now sleeping cerberus.

It was mere days before Christmas break, and Harry was dying to know what was being hidden. Neville had begrudgingly come along with them, already feeling quite similar to Hermione towards the whole idea. Ron had eagerly joined, eager to get away from Sam and the twins trying to force him to study. Down the hidden trapdoor they went, just to land in a tangle of mysterious vines.

“What the-” Harry exclaimed in the dark as something snaked around his legs, pulling him downward.

“AH!” Hermione screamed as it curled tightly around her head and ankles.

Neville struggled for a moment as it also trapped him, but he knew it felt familiar.

“Harry!” He called out desperately. “It’s Devil’s Snare!” He stilled himself immediately, understanding what needed to be done.

“What?” Harry could only vaguely remember the cursed plant from their herbology book.

“Of course!” Hermione closed her eyes tightly, remembering the exact passage. “We just need to relax, right Neville?” She asked.

“Yes!” The boy called as he fell through, already free of the offensive plant.

Harry had already stilled himself at the mention of Devil’s Snare, he knew of it too, from his mother’s extensive teaching.

Hermione soon fell through as well, but Ron still struggled, his panicked shouts for them met with urgent cries for him to be still. Finally, Harry had enough.

“Lumos Maxima!” He pointed his wand above him, directing all the light towards the plant.

It shriveled away from the light immediately, dropping Ron onto the ground nearby. Hermione walked over to help him up, shaking her head as she did so.

“You need to listen to us.” She scolded as they continued on.

“I will. I’m sorry.” He hung his head shamefully.

“Um, guys?” Neville called from up ahead. “How do you suppose we handle this?”

A large room full of floating keys met them at the end of the hall. Harry noticed the broom immediately. 

“I’m sure I just have to find the correct key and bring it down, shouldn’t be difficult, just time-consuming, 

For the next hour, they worked their way through the many trials laid out. Harry insisted they had to get through and find out who kept coming in here to steal whatever was being hidden. They had found the right key and played a life-size game of wizard chess so far.

Ron led the charge for the chess game, it was his expertise after all. Harry had to admit once again that his bravery was quite impressive. A slightly miffed Neville stayed back with him after he selflessly sacrificed himself as a piece to win the game and let them through.

Hermione and Harry raced through the door now, eager to get out of this disastrous mission and be done with it. Instead of an exit however, they were met with a long table in a dimly lit room. Seven bottles of different colours and sizes were laid out before them.

As Harry considered the bottles, flames erupted at both entrances in the room. He grabbed Hermione instinctively, bracing for an attack. Instead, a riddle played out for them to solve.

“Incredible…” Hermione muttered as the riddle finished, eyeing each potion. “A logic puzzle so complicated it’s almost not worth risking an answer.”

It took her three minutes to solve, and she promptly handed Harry a blue bottle, wishing him luck.

“This is the potion that will let you go on. Something tells me it has to be you and only you.” She gave him a hug.

“What will you do?” Harry whispered into her hair.

“Save the other idiots that came with us on this foolish mission.” She sighed. “You better not get yourself killed, Harry James.” She pointed a menacing finger in his face.

“Geez Hermione, middle-naming me and everything.” He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just hope we don’t get expelled for this.”

He drank the potion and walked through the black flames, leaving a very distraught Hermione to consider that thought.

His shoes tapped along the stairs of the final room lightly, echoing off the walls. Despite the feeling of the presence of evil, all that occupied the room was an ornate mirror. He stood before it and gasped. 

An older version of himself stood with his family, Sam slightly in front of him with a wide smile on her face. He had his hands on her shoulders and was smiling at an equally older Hermione and Neville. Harry found himself smiling at the portrayed vision, wondering what he was seeing. Was it the future? A dream?

A hand pulled him out of his questions, shaking him hard. The same cloaked figure from the forest stood behind him, disrupting the image. Harry felt his entire body tense and his hair stand on end.

“What are you doing here, boy…?” His voice was familiar, but Harry couldn’t place it.

He turned around to face the figure, his breath hitching in his throat. He was cloaked, sure, but Harry recognized his face underneath his hood.

Professor Quirrell frowned, and a second voice muttered something Harry couldn’t quite understand. He fought the urge to search for its source, choosing to back away from the man slowly. Perhaps he could make a run for it.

“Master, let me handle the boy.” Quirrell shook his head, taking off his hood so that only his purple turban remained on his head.

He grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him to the mirror.

“How do you know about the stone, Potter?” He asked, not letting go.

“What stone?” Harry’s voice shook, he had no idea what he was talking about.

“DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH ME.” Quirrell shouted, tightening his grip on Harry’s arm so that his circulation was nearly cut off.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about!” Harry exclaimed, trying to pull away.

Quirrell threw him down on the ground, pacing back and forth in front of him.

“Let me talk to him…” The mysterious other voice said.

Harry could hear it clearly now, and it filled him with indescribable fear.

“You’re not ready master-” Quirrell tried to argue.

“Nonsense. Show me the boy.” 

“Yes, master.” Quirrell began unwrapping his turban, and Harry felt nothing but the primal urge to run.

The once timid and soft-spoken Professor looked totally different as he revealed the disgusting abomination growing out of the back of his head. Harry tried not to gag as it studied him. 

“Harry.” It spoke. “How nice to see you again. Tell me, what do you see in the mirror?”

Harry glanced over to his reflection again, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Do you know the magic of this mirror?” The thing smiled, or at least, it looked like it was smiling.

Harry shook his head.

“Stand up and tell me what you see. Don’t be afraid.” It simpered. “Tell me what the boy-who-lived desires most in this world.”

Harry stood slowly, turning to face the mirror fully. He knew in his mind that he was not strong enough to face Quirrell alone, not to mention the strange magic that was currently growing that monster out of his body, so he resolved to cooperate for now.

He had no clue what “stone” they were seeking, but he did wonder why they wanted something so seemingly insignificant. As he watched his reflection once more, waiting for it to change, he was met with an interesting surprise.

His own reflection showed him smiling coyly, pointing to something in his pocket. As discreetly as possible he reached into his pocket to discover a small stone that hadn’t been there before.

“Well?” Quirrell grunted in frustration. “What do you see?”

“I-...I see myself, holding the quidditch cup. Next to my parents and my friends.” The lie formed easily on Harry’s tongue, but he hoped it was believable.

“He lies.” The face on the back of Quirrell’s head sighed. “Harry, your parents were great wizards. Did you know? I myself am also a great wizard, and so are you. It would be such a shame to be working for opposite sides. You could join me, you know? Together, we could accomplish anything your heart desires.”

The voice swirled through Harry’s thoughts as he considered his offer. Slowly, the pieces began to click into place.

“You’re Voldemort.” Harry stated, turning to face him fully now.

His mind was racing with calculations. He was down here, no doubt alone now, as the others must have gone to get Ron help. If he played his cards right, he might be able to beat Quirrel out of here, maybe even bar him here while he found Dumbledore. He had been trained to fight sure, but he wasn’t confident he was ready to defeat the Voldemort in a battle. Actually, he wasn’t confident at all, he had no chance.

“Ah, so I am.” It chuckled. “So, do we have a deal?” 

Quirrell approached him so that Harry was only a foot away from the head of his would-be-killer.

“Not a chance.” Harry stuck his tongue out and bolted for the stairs, intent on finding help.

“KILL HIM!” Voldemort rasped.

Quirrell moved as though he was possessed, flying at Harry and tackling him to the ground before he was even halfway up the stairs. Before he fell, flames erupted high and wide, encasing them in a ring of heat. His head hit the ground hard, and Quirrell wrapped his fingers around his throat.

He coughed and spat, writhing wildly in his grip. The stone fell out of his pocket then, and Quirrell noticed.

“So you had it all along!” He shouted, pressing harder.

Tears sprung in Harry’s eyes as he managed to grip Quirrell’s hand with his own, intent on pushing him away. To his surprise, the evil Professor’s eyes grew wide with pain. Everywhere that Harry touched burned him, sending a gross sizzling sound out as skin literally melted.

Quirrell backed away, afraid. Harry caught his breath and stared at his hands, flipping them over in amazement.

“I SAID KILL HIM!” Voldemort shouted once more.

Quirrell rushed him again, but just before he could, Harry put both of his hands on the man’s face. He pressed hard, noticing the magic worked again, Quirrell was disintegrating from his touch.

A terrifying scream left the man’s throat as he staggered to the boy-who-lived-twice-now and promptly faded to nothing but ash. Harry dropped to his knees, succumbing to the stress and fear of the situation.

Just then, the flames disappeared with a loud rush of air, and a frazzled looking Dumbledore rushed into the room. He caught the falling boy just before he hit the ground entirely, noticing the grave scene before him.

Harry felt himself fade in and out of consciousness several times as someone lowered him to the ground. The last thing he clearly remembered was a black wraith-like being erupting from the Quirrell-mort corpse and rushing the Headmaster, blasting through him with dark magic. The result was shocking to all that were familiar with the old Professor in his recent years.

He too fell beside Harry, clutching his head. He stayed just like that for a few minutes before throwing himself into action, apparating himself and the young boy to the Hospital Wing.

“POPPY!” He yelled, startling the poor mediwitch awake. “It’s Harry, help him. He had a run-in with Voldemort.”

Madam Pomfrey shot into healer mode, putting the boy on a bed and running several diagnostic scans. The Headmaster, meanwhile, stumbled about the mostly empty Hospital Wing, his mind swimming. 

“Minerva.” He choked out. “Twisty! Fetch Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.” He summoned a house elf before bracing himself on one of the beds.

Ten minutes later he sat down in his office, Severus feeding him several healing potions and Minerva waiting anxiously for the full story.

“Albus, what’s happened to you and Harry?” She couldn’t help herself anymore, she had to know.

“Voldemort.” Dumbledore breathed. “He had possessed Quirinus.”

McGonagall gasped. Snape closed his eyes and grit his teeth. 

“I knew it…” The black haired Professor seethed.

“And? What of him then? Is he dead?” McGonagall was frantic as she stood to pace the office.

“Quirinus is dead. Harry Potter killed him. I don’t know what’s become of Voldemort’s spirit.” He swallowed one final potion and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to fall asleep from the stress on his body.

“Harry Potter killed…” McGonagall stopped by the door and stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster. “Severus, take care of Albus. I must go check on my cubs. I am almost certain his friends went down there with him.”

Snape nodded, performing his own diagnostic spells on the Headmaster. “Albus…the stress on your mind and magic is old. You cannot withstand much more damage to your core.”

“I can feel it.” He sighed. “It is unfortunate that I have once again been set back by this man, but I can recover. I can handle the damage tonight.”

He stood, shakily. Snape shot a hand out. 

“Not tonight, Headmaster. Tonight, you must rest. Minerva and I will handle everything. Tomorrow you can start by talking to the Potter boy.” Snape frowned. “He deserves an apology from you.”

Dumbledore glanced at the surly man whom he saved and recruited all those years ago and couldn’t help but feel surprised. “Have you grown fond of the boy, Severus?” 

“No.” Snape paused. “He is just like his father–but…he is also just like his mother. I cannot bring myself to favor him, but even I can see he is a bright young man with great potential. And, I can see that his upbringing was similar to mine, at least originally.”

Albus nodded, a sad look filling his eyes. “You’re right.”

Snape nodded, leaving the Headmaster to dwell on these revelations and rest. He needed to go investigate the third floor, someone had to make sure everything was secured.

–

In the Hospital Wing, McGonagall scolded three of her lions brutally. Hermione, Neville, and Ron looked back and forth between her and each other guiltily as they sat on hospital beds getting examined and patched up. Hermione and Neville were fighting every instinct to run to the unconscious figure of Harry on the opposite side of the room, trying to trust that Madam Pomfrey’s assurance of his health was enough.

It was with a heavy heart that McGonagall escorted them back to their common room and returned to her office. She wrote letters informing their parents of the incident immediately, hoping that by some grace she would not be receiving howlers by the dozen come tomorrow morning.

Luckily, Christmas break was less than a week away. She had half a mind to send the four children home, she couldn’t even imagine how terrified they must have been. Still, she decided this would all be handled tomorrow, and thus went to bed herself.

All four children slept fitfully that night, but at least they were safe now. The threat was gone, the castle was secure once more. Sam made sure to chastise them all before they could fully go up to bed. Ron suffered worst from her wrath, especially since the twins had joined in.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XIV~

~The Right Fit~

Harry’s eyes opened slowly, revealing an unfamiliar sight. The Hospital Wing was cool, but the bed was warm. He propped himself up to a sitting position, noticing the cards and candies strewn about his bed.

“Eugh…” A sleepy sigh from nearby the bed startled him. 

Neville and Hermione were both sitting at the side of his bed, asleep. Neville’s head was resting on Hermione’s shoulder as he snored. Harry smiled.

He reached for one of the cards, smiling at the message inside. As he was about to grab another, the Headmaster walked into the Hospital Wing, looking worn and haggard.

“Harry…” He croaked, stopping a ways away from the cot. “That was a very brave thing you did last night. However, I truly wish you would never go looking for trouble like that again.”

He shuffled uncomfortably as he considered his next words.

“I owe you an apology, dear boy–I knew something was wrong with Quirinus, I had thought to trap him here. I had no idea you would go looking for him yourself.” He sighed. “May I sit?”

Harry nodded, and they soon launched into a discussion of that night. Harry shared everything he remembered, intent on making the search for the now missing Voldemort a little easier. There was no way he was gone from just last night. No way.

After the Headmaster left, Hermione and Neville awoke, launching at him with hugs and worried questions. Sam burst into the Hospital Wing not long after, rushing her baby brother with a mix of rage, pride, and fear on her face. Everette was behind her, an apologetic smile telling him he’d tried to calm her down before this.

Harry was released that evening, with the sole instruction of going to McGonagall’s office to floo call his family. One emotional call later, he was back in the common room, eagerly discussing Christmas plans with his dorm mates. The break started the next day, and they would soon all be on their way home to spend Christmas with their families.

–

The next morning, Harry, Hermione, and Neville exchanged a few small presents on the train. With promises to write and possibly visit, they all joined their separate families at the station.

Sam and Harry ran to their parents, wrapping them up in hugs. Hermione’s parents held their daughter nearby, having been kept updated through her letters and through Elise.

Elise smoothed Sam’s hair and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Let’s get home, I’m sure your grandparents are dying to see you too.”

“Yes, yes, let’s get home. I’m starving.” Nick tapped his stomach sadly, wrapping his arms around Harry and Sam both, ready to apparate.

–

Christmas morning came quickly. Harry woke his sister up and dragged her to the tree, eager to open presents. Sam rubbed sleep from her eyes, tired but excited to open gifts.

Sam opened presents at light speed, eager to get to her favourite part of Christmas–the food. Harry didn’t even get to see everything she got before she’d packed it all back up to take back to her room.

Their parents watched from the couch with their own stacks of half-opened presents, shaking their heads. At least she said thank you.

Harry received new quidditch training uniforms, a set of signed books on various subjects he was interested in, a new dragonskin bookbag, and best of all–a brand new broom. He had received a few other trinkets and practical gifts, but he was so distracted by the broom, he almost didn’t notice.

“You know, that isn’t even from us.” Nick sighed.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, ogling the sleek Nimbus 2000 in his hands.

“Professor McGonagall asked for permission to gift it to you. Your mother nearly had a heart attack, but I convinced her.” Nick recalled cockily.

Elise whacked him on the back of the head playfully. “It’s a dangerous toy and you know that. And you better be careful on that thing or you won’t ever want to see a broom again, do you hear?” She narrowed her eyes coldly.

“Yes, mum…” Harry mumbled, placing it on the floor gingerly.

Once that was over, Harry took his haul up to his room, eager to write to his friends about it. Quidditch had been postponed this year for various reasons. The original November game was cancelled due to weather conditions, and then every time they scheduled a new one something went wrong. Harry was promised that he would get to play in January, rain or shine, and he was ready.

As he sat down to write his first letter though, something strange caught his eye. Another present sat on his bed, unwrapped. He grabbed it and tore off the paper, left with a shimmery cloak.

“What is this…?” He wondered out loud, putting it over his shoulders.

As it swished closed around him, he glanced at the mirror on his wall, and promptly yelped in shock.

“Everything alright up there?” Nick called from the kitchen.

“Er–Yes! Just dropped something!” Harry answered, still staring at his reflection.

“Bloody hell, I’m invisible!” He mumbled.

Everywhere the cloak covered was simply missing from the reflection. He could still feel his body, but he couldn’t see it. He spun around a couple of times, finally pulling it all the way over his head.

“Wicked…” He whispered.

–

On the last day before term started up again, Harry and Hermione had been invited over to Longbottom manor to spend the day with Neville and his Gran.

Harry had heard many stories about Augusta Longbottom–part of him really wanted to believe most of them were false–but she truly was a terrifying woman. With a stare possibly more fierce than McGonagall herself, paired with an aura that emitted pure elegance, she was very intimidating indeed.

“Good morning, Madam Longbottom.” Harry greeted nervously, dipping his head in respect.

Hermione followed suit, offering a small curtsy.

“Good morning, children.” She waved them into the house. “Neville is waiting for you in the gardens, I shall be watching over you from my office.”

With that, they were led to a small table that Neville was currently lounging at lazily.

“Neville, sit up straight. Your posture is appalling.” Was her final comment before she turned with a swish of her robes and stalked off to the manor once more. 

The three kids sat in uncomfortable silence before Neville offered a grin. “She means well, really, just a bit blunt is all…” His words were reassuring, but his tone was not–still, it eased the tension enough for them to all smile and laugh once more.

The three Gryffindors decided to spend some time reviewing spells for their upcoming classes, eager to master more for their arsenal.

Hermione and Harry blew through new spells at light speed, making Neville a tad jealous. He watched them sadly for a moment as they mastered yet another charm he could barely manage. A glance at the manor saw his Gran staring at him disapprovingly, which only fueled his sadness.

Harry noticed Madam Longbottom as well and frowned, motioning for Hermione to look. They felt bad for their friend, it took him so much effort to complete basic spells and then he barely got any recognition for completing them in the end. 

Harry was pretty good at sensing magic within people now, he could tell Neville was a strong wizard, so why did he struggle so much? As Neville failed another attempt, the Longbottom matriarch turned away, her dissatisfaction obvious.

Suddenly, the memory of Ollivander’s came to Harry, and he had an idea.

“Nev, when did you get your wand?” He asked, thinking he could have purchased it when he was younger and simply outgrown it as he matured.

“Oh, it’s my dad’s…” He frowned. “Gran wanted me to use it in memory of him.”

Harry and Hermione balked.

“Neville, you have to get a new wand.” Hermione shook her head, in total shock over this absurd situation. “The wand chooses the wizard, and this wand clearly didn’t choose you. Nothing is wrong with your magic!”

Neville perked up slightly, considering her words. One glance back at the manor had him deflated instantly once more.

“Gran would never let me, she was insistent that I use this one.” He stared at it dejectedly. 

Harry frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense, doesn’t she want you to be good at your studies?”

“She thinks I’m just not trying is all…” Neville shrugged. “It’s alright guys really, it’s never gonna happen.”

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, looking at Harry sadly. Harry stared at the Manor once more.

“Hey, Nev?”

“Yea?”

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh uh, down the hall and the first door on your right.” Neville scratched the back of his neck. “I can walk you there?”

“No thanks, you two keep practicing, I’ll be right back.” Harry smiled cheerfully and made his way back inside, his mission clear.

As soon as he got to her office, his confidence faltered. Still, he was placed in Gryffindor for a reason, so he knocked twice.

“Come in, Harry.” Augusta called from inside.

Harry listened, standing across from her, hidden from Neville and Hermione’s view by a curtain.

“Why don’t you let Neville get his own wand?” The question came out much blunter than he’d intended, there was no saving this situation now.

“Whatever do you mean? He has his own wand.” She clicked her tongue dismissively.

“No. He uses his father’s wand, he told me so.” Harry crossed his arms. “That wand doesn’t work for him.”

Augusta set down a piece of parchment she’d been reviewing, scrutinizing him coldly.

“It would work if he put any effort into it-“

“He does.” Harry cut her off, surprised by his own audacity. “He would be at the top of all his classes if he was using a wand that worked for him. Instead he relies on classes that involve no wand work to boost his grades. He’s a perfectly capable wizard, but people look down on him because he performs wand magic poorly.” He said it all matter-of-factly, his words carrying nothing but sincerity.

Augusta looked at him, and for a moment Harry thought he saw surprise flicker through her eyes.

“People…look down on him?” She asked.

“There are students that call him a half-wit, or a useless pureblood, or even a squib. He doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you to know it hurts him.” Harry was angry now, he felt his face heat up slightly as he poured out his frustrations to her.

The surprise was clear now, her stern scowl replaced by a deep frown. 

“Why wouldn’t he tell me that?” She looked out toward him.

Neville’s wand sparked and shook as he tried and failed to cast another simple charm. His hands shook with effort as Hermione cheered him on, only for it to putter out and fade entirely. He sunk in on himself as Hermione tried to console him.

Augusta sighed.

“Perhaps…you have a point.” She opened a drawer to her desk. “You have a pure heart, Mister Potter. Don’t let anyone darken your light. I see Lily’s courage and wisdom flowing through you now.” She chuckled, a soft, dignified noise.

He smiled, grateful he wasn’t being scolded.

“You also have the gall of your father. James was a right nuisance for most of his school years.” Harry’s smile dropped, replaced with confusion. “He was a good man though, and so are you. Now, go back outside. I have work to do.” She took a small photograph out of her desk, handing it to him.

Harry took it, held it to his chest, laughed awkwardly, and left, eager to escape her judging eyes. He ran all the way back to the gardens, panting from the distance as he arrived.

“That was a long bathroom break.” Neville snickered, receiving a hit on the shoulder from Hermione.

Harry laughed with him, earning a glare from the bookworm as well, which only made them laugh harder. Hermione huffed, turning back to her spellbook and ignoring the immaturity she surrounded herself with.

It was only then that Harry examined the picture. A moving photograph of he and Neville’s parents, along with others he didn’t quite recognize. He smiled, showing the other two the picture of a happier time. 

Lily and James stared into each other’s eyes and smiled brightly. Alice and Frank Longbottom were wrapped in a tight hug. Two men between the couples laughed joyfully with their arms around each other’s shoulders. It was a peaceful depiction of what could have been, had their lives not been so cruelly stripped from them.

—

The first day of the second half of the school year saw many new changes. 

For one, Neville greeted them on the train sporting a brand new wand. Harry and Hermione congratulated him and asked for a demonstration of his new abilities immediately. 

Not only were his spells successful, they came to him with ease now, barely requiring any effort to sustain.

The other major change was the interim DADA Professor that had been given to Hogwarts in place of Quirrell. 

As far as the public was concerned, Quirinus Quirrell passed away mysteriously, and his untimely death was nothing but an unprecedented tragedy. The few that knew the truth, knew not to discuss it.

Dumbledore had told Harry about the philosopher’s stone. How its power of youth would have been used to rejuvenate Voldemort's spirit. He also told him the man who owned the stone had it destroyed when he found out the plot to use it for evil, eliminating all threats of the mythical stone.

Now, the only thing Harry was truly worried about was his upcoming quidditch match.

Oliver Wood stood behind him as they walked toward the pitch, he was discussing last minute strategy with the team. Harry was only half listening as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“That goes for you too Potter, clear?” Wood said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Huh- what?” Harry looked back, shaken from his thoughts.

Wood sighed. “You’ve nothing to be worried about, you’re going to do fine. I was telling the team that the main goal is to work together to ensure we have a productive game. No matter what Slytherin throws at us, we stick together.”

And with that, they broke out onto the field one by one, shooting off to wave and cheer about the stadium before taking their starting positions. Harry flew the perimeter of the field, looking for his friends.

He found his family first, sitting at the front of the Teacher’s Box. Nick and Elise were currently decked out in “Harry Merch” as they had called it, sporting scarves and jackets with his name and favourite colours. His dad was jumping around excitedly, and his mum was already sweating from her nerves.

He waved to them as he passed, blowing his mum an apology kiss as he went. He found his friends next, with most of them lined up at the front of the Gryffindor stand. Sam and Everette stood with Hermione and Neville, waving excitedly. Olivia, Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Lavender were all nearby, also waving eagerly.

Harry stopped in front of his two closest friends, offering a fist bump to Neville before he was yanked into a Hermione hug, almost tipping over in the process. He laughed as he sped off to get in formation, waving in acknowledgement to the rest of them.

–

The game was rough. Slytherin had mastered their underhanded tactics exceptionally well during their extra months of training. Harry was dodging bludgers what felt like every five seconds. Chasers cut him off for no reason, making him lose focus every time they did so.

Still, it was a close match so far. Slytherin was ahead by 50 points. Just then, Harry saw it. That beautiful glint of gold, all the way across the pitch, directly underneath the Slytherin seeker. He set his jaw, tensing up his body to lean forward for maximum acceleration and hurtled toward the snitch.

Lee Jordan was commentating from the Teacher’s Box, and though his comments got out of hand very quickly, he was incredible at his job. He picked up on Harry’s movements immediately, causing the stands to erupt in chaos as even Elise was standing now, eager to see how Harry fared as the youngest Hogwarts seeker.

He felt the wind whip past him as he neared his Slytherin counterpart. To anyone else, it looked like Harry was going to run right through him, and that’s what he wanted it to look like. Closer and closer he flew, alarming even himself. The other boy still hadn’t noticed the snitch, and was currently second guessing his next move.

When Harry was mere feet away, the boy in green pulled up, not wanting to risk a collision. Right as he did, Harry whipped his body upside down and snatched the tiny golden ball. There was so much noise from the stands, Harry couldn’t make out anything. In his excitement, he promptly slipped from his broom and tumbled downward, hanging off the stick as it glided downward toward the ground.

With the grass rapidly approaching, he timed his descent, letting go and rolling forward until he sat on the pitch ground, mostly unharmed. The crowd grew quiet as he picked himself up, no snitch in sight.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-” Elise mumbled as she closed her eyes tightly, unable to watch as soon as Harry turned upside down. “Is he okay?”

“Uh, what’d he do with the snitch…?” someone leaned over the stand, trying to get a closer look.

“Uh oh, he looks like he’s gonna be sick.” Nick sighed. “I guess he lost the snitch…”

Actually, neither of those things were true, which everyone discovered moments later when Harry promptly coughed the snitch up into his hands, jumping and waving it around wildly. The crowds erupted in noise once more, and all was well.

Elise clung to her husband’s jacket. “I hate this so much…” She breathed. “He’s so talented–at so many things! Why did it have to be quidditch that ended up being his favourite?”

Nick laughed as she practically melted into him from stress. “Sorry my love, you’re stuck doing this for at least six more years.”

Meanwhile, a somewhat similar conversation was happening in the Gryffindor stands.

Hermione sat on the bench, head in her hands.

“Hermione, babe…” Sam laughed. “He’s okay, look-”

“Sam, let her have her moment, her magic is going haywire.” Everette cut her off worriedly.

Hermione’s hair was sparking with magic from the stress of the game. Still, a smile crept onto her face as she calmed down. Neville patted her shoulder reassuringly, his own stress clear by the sweat coating his forehead.

Harry, on the other hand, had never been more elated. He retrieved his broom just before being tackled by his entire team, each of them more excited than the last as they ruffled his hair and patted him on the back.

–

The party in the Gryffindor common room lasted all night, and Harry was the star. He didn’t let that stop him from highlighting all of his teammates though, ensuring that they each had their moment of recognition.

“Oliver said so himself before the game started, we stuck together and held up against the Slytherin cheaters as a team. None of it would have been possible unless we were all in on it 100% together.” Harry told anybody who would listen about their success as a team, which earned him extra points from his teammates.

It wasn’t until after one o’clock that Harry headed off to bed, knowing he could rest all day tomorrow.

–

The next few months were much the same. Gryffindor won every match they played, their formations and strategies becoming so seamless they had people wondering if a professional coach was helping them. Harry enjoyed playing very much, but was grateful for his breaks from the activity when he hung out with Hermione and Neville.

Hermione had arranged a full schedule for the three of them as finals approached, going so far as to include even exercise for the three of them, insisting it was important that they work not only their mind but also their bodies as the semester came to a close.

In her words, “It is important to be as healthy and prepared as possible when it comes to exam time, that way there are no excuses and less chances to fail!”

Neville grumbled on their walks and short runs, but found himself feeling more awake and alert in class because of them. Though he would never admit that to his best friends. 

Harry was used to the exercise of course, but loved her enthusiasm.

Exams came and went, and finally it was time for the end-of-term feast. The trio scored exceptionally well in every subject, and were now curious as to who would be winning the house cup.

Gryffindor already claimed the quidditch cup after one last heated match between them and Slytherin. They had only been ahead by a mere 20 points before Harry fought the other seeker valiantly for the snitch, claiming it just before he could.

It was almost no surprise when Dumbledore announced Gryffindor’s victory, with Slytherin in second, Hufflepuff in third, and Ravenclaw in fourth. The trio went home proud of their accomplishments of the year.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XV~

~The Grinning Fool~

Harry had spent the summer between first and second year doing many things. From training with his sister to participating in a few extra courses offered by private tutors to prepare him for his lordship, he barely had a moment to rest. 

One particular morning of this busy summer, Harry was rudely awakened by loud crashing from inside his closet. Not one to wait to be attacked, he got up to investigate immediately.

A house elf thrashed around in his dirty clothes bin. Harry frowned.

“Hello?” He reached in and pulled the elf out, holding him up to make eye contact with him. “Are you lost?”

The elf shook in his arms, fear evident in his features. “Harry Potter sir! Dobby did not mean to be caught! Dobby only wanted to leave a message!”

“Er…it’s alright, what’s your message say?” Harry set him down gently, kneeling to remain eye to eye.

“Oh the great Harry Potter was not supposed to hear this directly…” the house elf began hitting himself on the head—hard.

Harry reached to stop him, holding his arms still. “Stop hurting yourself–please…” Harry kept hold of his arms, just in case. “Who sent me a message? Was it Hermione? Neville? A Professor?” 

Dobby started sobbing violently. Harry fought the urge to lash out, wanting desperately to understand what the elf was doing here. He was surprised neither of his parents had heard the commotion.

“Dobby is sending the message Harry Potter sir, Dobby wanted to warn him!”

“Warn me of what? Harry was even more confused now, frowning as he let go of the wailing creature.

“Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts! He must not return to school!” He cried, dropping to his knees and banging his head on the floor.

Harry shoved his hand between his head and the floor, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Dobby–right? Stop hurting yourself, now.” The little house elf stopped, although clearly begrudgingly, and looked up at the young wizard. “Why can’t I go back to school? That’s where all my friends are, and where I need to go to learn magic. Don’t you want me to complete my studies?”

“Oh–yes! Dobby is wanting Harry Potter to study but he must do it somewhere else! There is a dangerous plot at Hogwarts, evil magic, dark motives!” Dobby stopped abruptly, looking immensely guilty.” Oh no– Dobby has said too much…”

Harry cut him off before he could start trying to hurt himself again. “What plan? Who’s got dark motives? What have you heard?” 

“Dobby mustn't tell!” He squeaked, hiding behind his floppy ears.

Harry groaned. “Look, I can’t just not go back–” Harry watched his face fall, clearly devastated at his revelation. “Uhm...But–you were able to come see me like this, right? What if you popped in to tell me if there was any danger? I know I would be safe with you watching my back.” Harry put on his most charming smile, hoping the little elf would drop this and go home.

“Dobby can be doing that, Harry Potter sir! Dobby can do anything for you!” The little elf jumped up then, suddenly joyful. “I will be watching for danger!”

With that, he popped away. Harry sat back on the ground, already exhausted before his day even started. 

“What a nutcase…” He mumbled, moving on to get ready for the day.

–

Now, as his twelfth birthday came and went, there were only a few weeks before his second year at Hogwarts was to begin. Harry could have spent the August before doing any number of things, but he chose a rather unorthodox activity.

Research on a convicted murderer. The man who alerted Voldemort of the Potters’ location and then ended the life of twelve innocent muggles and one wizard…allegedly.

“He does look rather insane…” Hermione commented on the moving photograph they had found on an old newspaper in Diagon Alley.

Sirius Black yelled and thrashed in the Auror’s arms who held him captive. Harry couldn’t quite make out what he was trying to say.

“Something about this isn’t right. Dumbledore recalled a new memory the other day. Something to do with Sirius. And according to the Headmaster, though I can’t say I believe him, Snape thinks this man is innocent.”

Hermione sighed. “Maybe…for now—we should focus on something else?”

She stacked up their parchment rolls with notes and newspaper clippings and filed them neatly into a bag. Harry watched her, feeling discouraged and upset.

“Besides, you haven’t even told me what you’re getting me for my birthday.” Hermione smiled. “I’m so curious, you have to tell me!”

Harry’s smile returned for a moment as he shook his head. “No can do ‘Mione—it’s a secret.”

He watched her pout playfully, knowing she knew she would not be getting any answers from him using this method.

“You know I don’t like nicknames…” She huffed, throwing her bag over her shoulder and starting off toward a bookstore.

Harry sighed, following close behind. “Sure, but I’m allowed.” He tapped his temple twice. “Best friend privileges.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering to hold the door open as she made it inside.

Harry caught the door anyway, staying just behind her as she browsed book titles and other miscellaneous items. They were in a far back corner of Diagon Alley, a good distance away from most of the crowds and chaos.

Harry hadn’t told her yet, but today was actually a part of her present. Some famous wizard was currently holed up in Flourish and Blotts about to host a book signing. Actually, he was set to be their new DADA teacher, but Harry was skeptical of him still.

He’d never heard of the bloke before, and the little research he’d done only told him that the man was as egotistical as they come. Still, Hermione owned several of his books, and the ones she didn’t were to be signed and handed to her today as her official birthday present.

So with this plan in mind, he led her there, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible. Neville had agreed to meet them around this time, and Harry knew that a line would start forming as soon as he opened, so the rush was on.

“Harry—“ Hermione called as she tried to catch up with the boy practically running away from her. “Harry! Where are we going?!”

“We’re almost there!” He sped up, practically bursting through the door of Flourish and Blotts.

A line all the way to the back wall met him as he entered. At the very head stood a blonde man in fancy-looking robes, smiling at witches all throughout the room. Harry watched on curiously as witches aged 11 and up smiled shyly and blushed at this man. What were they so impressed by?

His curiosity turned into something else when Hermione walked in, immediately enamored by the famous wizard. He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but the flustered grin that was plastered on her face as she ogled him made his stomach turn.

“It’s part of your present…” He mumbled, motioning for her to get in line.

“Oh!” Hermione glanced around, suddenly remembering where she was it seemed. “Oh, thank you Harry! This is so sweet!”

Harry nodded and offered a forced smile. Just then, Neville arrived, looking just as confused as him.

“What’s with all of them and their dopey-eyed stares?” Neville whispered.

“Wish I knew.” Harry rubbed his neck. “It shouldn’t be too long though, he’s just handing everyone a book and sending them on their way.”

“Right. Well, guess we’ll survive.” Neville laughed.

Harry’s response was cut off as he noticed the Malfoy family enter the store. He felt instantly on edge, hiding his face as best as he could in hopes of being overlooked.

The elder Malfoy walked ahead of the line and shook the famous wizard’s hand.

“Gilderoy.” Harry heard him say. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise, Lord Malfoy.” Gilderoy answered, flashing his brightest smile.

With that, the blondes headed back down the line, seemingly to leave the store, when they stopped abruptly. Harry had to squint to see who they were talking to through the crowd, but the ginger hair gave it away as soon as he could catch a better glimpse.

The Weasley clan was grouped together near the front of the line. Lucius was having a hushed conversation with the older patriarch. Harry frowned, what did he want with them?

As he was about to turn and ask Hermione what she thought, Lucius bumped into the Weasleys’ two youngest, causing the girl to stumble. He apologized—as insincerely as you possibly could—and led Draco outside. 

“That was rude…” Neville muttered as they left.

“Incredibly.” Harry agreed.

“Boys, look! He’s got all of his editions up there. These books are incredibly fascinating you know-“ Hermione began her tangent on Gilderoy Lockhart with giddy enthusiasm.

Harry listened carefully, wondering if all the rumors about him were true. Was he really that powerful of a wizard? Something seemed off.

The line got shorter and shorter, and soon it was Hermione’s turn. Harry stood just behind her, ready for the whole experience to be over.

As he was handing her the signed copy of his collection, the man with golden hair noticed Harry. Without missing a beat, he threw his arms up and signaled to the reporters to start taking pictures.

“My, my! If it isn’t Harry Potter, coming to see me at last!” He grabbed the younger boy and pulled him close, shaking his hand vigorously.

Harry smiled nervously, glancing back at his friends. Neville just shrugged, clearly finding his predicament rather amusing. Hermione looked conflicted.

“Hello Mr. Lockhart.” Harry cleared his throat, dropping his hand to his side.

“Now I’ll have none of that Harry, you’ll call me Gilderoy.” The man flashed his smile and reached for a stack of books. “I would like to gift my new friend my entire signed collection—free of charge. I’ll see you soon!”

Gilderoy turned back to Hermione, posing for a picture with her as well and flashing her an extra charming smile. Harry wouldn’t admit it, but the weird twinge that reverberated through his chest throughout this whole experience increased ten-fold at that—and even more when he noticed the flushed face and nervous smile she returned.

He opened his arms to catch the stack of books just in time, fighting the grimace as he was quickly shooed off to the side to have one more picture taken. He held it together until they left the store and returned to Neville’s house.

“Thank you for the gift, Harry. I’m sorry they took pictures of you. If you tell your mum I’m sure she can call the Daily Prophet and ask them not to post them.” Hermione sat next to Harry on a couch, her new book in hand.

Harry shook his head. “It’s fine. All that matters is that you like your present.”

Hermione smiled, leaning down to rest her head on his shoulder as her eyes flipped back down towards the book. Harry took that as enough of an answer, settling further into the couch as their activities of the day caught up to him.

“Harry.” A voice pulled him out of his nap a while later, almost startling him.

“Huh?” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Hermione’s about to leave, you probably should too. It’s past dinner time.” Neville stood above him.

“Alright.” Harry stretched up. “Bye Nev, see you in a few weeks.”

With that, Harry and Hermione returned home through the floo, wishing each other goodbye as they did so.

—

Harry boarded the Hogwarts express much more confidently than he had last year, settling into their usual compartment with ease. Hermione was already there, reading quietly. Neville walked in a minute later, eager to tell Harry some story about his garden at home.

Harry listened cheerfully, happy to have his friends back. Though he would miss his family, they were always a letter away.

As he and Neville settled into some practice exercises for charms, a knock came from the door. A young redheaded girl with big doe eyes stood nervously outside.

Harry recognized her as the Weasley’s youngest immediately and cleared his throat. “Can we help you…?”

“Ginny, Ginny Weasley.” She looked back and forth at the hall. “Have you seen any of my brothers?”

Neville frowned, the poor girl looked lost. “No, we haven’t, sorry Ginny. I’m Neville by the way. Neville Longbottom.”

Neville stood and reached to shake her hand. She took it gingerly, obviously unsure. Harry noticed her frown deepening as she glanced around once more.

“Right, um…thank you, sorry to bother!” She turned her back, crossing her arms in thought.

“Ginny!” Hermione’s voice suddenly came from the other side of the compartment. “Honestly boys, the poor girl is lost. Do you want help finding them or help finding something else?”

Hermione walked over and placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. Ginny sighed, offering a sheepish smile.

“I don’t really want to find them…I know they’re avoiding me on purpose.” She glanced between Hermione and the boys. “Can I stay with you? I want to learn how to do that.”

Ginny pointed at the spell book propped up on the bench, a curious look on her face.

Hermione smiled brightly. “Absolutely.”

Thus began their lessons to their new firstie friend. Harry smiled as Hermione guided her expertly through spells she wished to learn, helping her figure out several new ones throughout the course of the train ride.

Right before they arrived at the school, a strange voice carried through their compartment. 

“Ginny, there you are!” The voice said, sounding far away and almost ethereal. “I was beginning to think the nargles got to you…”

Harry glanced up, shocked. A small blonde girl seemed to have just appeared in the doorway. He didn’t recall sensing her magic or hearing any noise.

“Luna!” Ginny exclaimed, rushing to her. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find you or my brothers earlier. Hermione invited me to stay with them and I accepted.”

Luna listened to her story with an unwavering smile. Harry got the distinct feeling that Luna was looking through Ginny, rather than at her.

“You’re both welcome to stay.” Hermione offered. “Besides, we’re almost to the castle.”

Just as she spoke, the castle came into view. Ginny and Luna soon had faces pressed up against the glass, eagerly taking the magnificent view in, just as the trio had done before.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville said goodbye to their new first year friends, promising to see them after the sorting ceremony. 

“Harry, Nev! Come sit with us.” The voice of Sam carried through the crowd as they reached the great hall.

The fourth year Gryffindor was quick to engulf Hermione in a hug, immediately chatting up the younger girl, having opted to sit with Everette and their friends this time around on the train. The boys settled in where she had pointed out and began discussing their summers with their dorm mates.

Dean and Seamus talked about their quidditch adventures, Ronald shared his lament over his sick rat, and Tyler spoke of a vacation to France.

Harry and Neville soon added their own stories to the mix, and by the time they’d finished, the doors burst open.

The new first years all filed in behind Professor McGonagall, just as nervous as they had been last year. Harry and Neville spotted Luna first, her bright blonde hair jutting out from the sea of firsties.

McGonagall went through with the ceremony, and soon everyone was sorted. Ginny joined them in Gryffindor—much to her older brother’s delight—and Luna went off to Ravenclaw. Hermione and Sam filled Ginny and some of the other new girls in on everything they might need to know for their first term.

With dinner eaten and new friends made, all of Hogwarts’ students were sent off to bed. Harry laid down and fell asleep almost instantly, eager to begin his new classes.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XVI~

~Petrification~

Harry wasn’t particularly fond of his reputation at school. He often thought he would give anything to just be “normal”. Still, there were some perks to his name. Money, for example. 

When Draco Malfoy came swaggering through the quidditch pitch with the Slytherin team boasting about his father’s contribution to their house: a set of brand new Nimbus 2001’s for each member, Harry sprang into action immediately.

While he wasn’t keen on spending all of his family’s hard-earned savings, he thought his father would be happy to pay for this particular luxury. So off to Quality Quidditch Supplies a letter went, along with one to his parents.

By the next week custom Nimbus 2001’s for each house team were sent to the school. Twenty-one brooms in total, seven for Gryffindor, seven for Hufflepuff, seven for Ravenclaw. On top of that, Harry also purchased several second-hand, mid-grade brooms for Madam Hooch to use during flying lessons. The Silver Arrows they used were so old they barely functioned anymore. He would have none of that.

The only people not impressed by this decision were, of course, the Slytherins. The rest of the school was singing praises to the “anonymous donor” that had been so generous. Harry chuckled at that.

Happy weeks of practicing quidditch, doing homework, and hanging out with his friends came to a crashing stop when Harry happened upon a strange sight.

It had started with him following a strange voice. Dark, quiet, and with unsettling things to say. What’s worse was Hermione couldn’t hear it. Still, they followed the sound of the voice down the corridors, desperate to know its origin.

Then, he saw it.

“Hermione…” he muttered, squinting his eyes to see down the dark corridor better. “Is that a cat?”

Hermione walked past him, seeing the small animal too. “It looks like-“

“Mrs. Norris!” The cry of confusion came from the school’s caretaker, Mr. Filch.

Harry and Hermione jumped back, startled. Filch ran past them, dropping to his knees to look at Mrs. Norris.

She was frozen—petrified—Hermione guessed. She sat in a puddle of water, her face permanently paused in an expression of terror. Filch stood in an instant, intending to lash out at the kids, but Harry’s own shock made him pause.

Harry’s eyes flitted over the message once, twice. Surely this was some kind of sick joke, right? But no, Hermione saw it too.

Scrawled across the stone wall in what could only be fresh blood was a cryptic message to the school. “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir…beware.” The three glanced back down at each other, uncomfortable to say the least.

“I know this was you Potter.” Filch reached out, gripping Harry by the collar.

Harry yelped. “Mr. Filch! It wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

He fought back when the old man tried to drag him off, Hermione grabbing his arms to keep him steady.

“You killed my cat!” Filch was hysterical now, and neither of them knew what to say.

“I think she’s just petrified-“ Hermione tried to console him, but he lashed out towards her too, swinging his arms to push her back.

Harry stepped between them. “Sir, you are allowed to be upset, but you are not allowed to hurt us. We haven’t done anything to Mrs. Norris!”

Just then, Dumbledore and McGonagall appeared.

“Argus.” Dumbledore’s voice was firm. “Put the boy down.”

Filch did as he was told, reluctantly. Harry readjusted his robes and scooted closer to Hermione, putting himself between her and the man, unsure if he might try to hurt them again.

“Hermione, tell me what just happened.” McGonagall instructed, turning to the wide-eyed school girl.

“We…that is, Harry and I, stumbled upon Mrs. Norris like this. We didn’t do anything to her, but Mr. Filch is convinced that we’ve killed her.” Hermione recounted. “The message on the wall is very concerning, and the scene doesn’t make much sense, but she’s not dead. I think she’s petrified.”

Dumbledore nodded along to her words, scanning the area. “This is very troubling, Minerva.”

Professor McGonagall took one more look at the children and sighed. “Back to the common rooms you two, nowhere else. Do not speak of this to anyone, am I perfectly clear.”

The young Gryffindors nodded vigorously before scurrying off, not wanting any more trouble than they’d already garnered.

—

“What do you think happened…?” Harry muttered to her when they had arrived back in the commons room.

She shifted to glance around the room, taking note of how no one seemed interested in them at the moment. 

“I’m not entirely sure…” she frowned, her brow creasing as she went through any and all possible theories she could come up with.

Harry’s mind was running wild with thoughts centered solely on the cryptic message left on the wall. “The Chamber”? “Enemies of the heir”? He couldn’t come up with any rational explanation. He hadn’t even gotten into how the message seemed to have been written in blood.

Hermione shot up then, her back perfectly straight as a realization struck her. She turned to Harry, a preparatory breath signaling he was about to bear witness to a long-winded conclusion, but just as she went to start, she seemed to deflate. 

“No…no that can’t be it.” She muttered, looking back at the floor.

Harry grinned, despite the seriousness of the situation. “I say we go to bed and do some research tomorrow. I know Professor McGonagall said not to tell, but we can take Nev and Sam with us.”

Hermione nodded. “Tomorrow…”

“Yea, so let’s focus on bed now, okay?” He gave her a meaningful look, waving his hand in front of her still hyper-focused eyes. 

“Right…” she said, not moving.

“Okay…” he sighed, standing and brushing off his pants. “Let’s go.”

With one quick motion he picked her up by the arms, launching her out of her fixated stare and bringing her back to reality. 

“Bedtime.” He said, pointing toward the stairs up to the dormitory.

“Fine.” She said, rolling her eyes, a small smile fighting its way onto her face. “But we are figuring this out tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” He gave a mock salute before heading up to his own bedroom, chuckling.

–

The library held no better answers than their minds had imagined the night before, and Hermione was not bothered in the least. Not even a little bit!

“Ugh!” A swipe at the table sent books and parchment flying, Hermione stood above the table, puffing out an exasperated sigh.

“Well the books didn’t do anything, now did they?” Neville picked up a few from the floor, dusting them off and setting them in a neat stack.

Hermione sent a glare so pointed, his hair stood on end. “Right…sorry.”

She only rolled her eyes at his apology, ripping open another book to continue her search.

“‘Mione, we’ve been here quite awhile, don’t you think it’s time we took a break?” Harry sat near her, his head resting on his arms as he leaned on the table.

Just then, a scream erupted from the hallway. The three second-years were up in a flash, someone was in danger. Harry sped off ahead of the other two, acutely aware of the voice that had returned to his mind.

Its murderous energy ended quickly, and Harry rounded the corner to find no monster once again. Hermione let out a small gasp behind him, bringing him back to reality.

Penelope Clearwater, an older girl whom Harry had seen around the castle a few times, was frozen in shock. Upon closer inspection, it was clear her lack of movement was permanent. Neville swallowed hard, he didn’t like this at all.

Hermione touched the girl’s face lightly. “Petrified, again.” 

Professors soon found them, and just like before, they fought off accusation after accusation. The second-years were adamant they had nothing to do with it, but all evidence suggested otherwise. The only ones who seemed to believe them were Dumbledore and McGonagall, but Harry couldn’t tell what they thought was actually happening. 

This all happened a few weeks ago now, but Harry found himself thinking each day was stranger than the last. The Slytherins were more active than usual, murmurs and pointed glances greeted the other houses when in their presence. Hermione in particular noticed a sudden shift.

“Watch it, Granger.” An older Slytherin girl pushed past her in the library, elbowing her in the rib.

Harry moved to say something, but Hermione cut him off.

“Leave it, Harry.”

“Leave it? That was so rude, you weren’t even in the way!” Harry watched the Slytherin girl leave, glaring at her turned back.

“It was nicer than I’ve gotten recently, so I’ll take it.” She huffed, slamming the book in her hands shut.

Harry frowned, across the library, he caught Malfoy’s stare.

“Harry Potter, sir!” A small, high-pitched voice cried out from behind him.

Harry whirled to the sound, Dobby stood pressed up against the shelves, a worried expression fixed on his tiny face. 

“Dobby?” Harry whispered, kneeling down to speak to the elf. “What are you doing here?”

“Harry Potter must be careful with his miss Grangy.” Dobby looked like he was sweating, and burn marks covered most of his body.

Harry grit his teeth. “My what?”

“Harry Potter’s missus Grangy. The pretty girl with big hair that Harry Potter spends his time with.” Dobby looked from side to side, making sure no one was around. “You must be careful! Miss Grangy might get hurt!”

“Who’s going to hurt Hermione?” Harry was on his feet in an instant, staring angrily down at the twitchy elf.

“Dobby mustn't say! Dobby cannot say!” He moved to bash his head into the cabinet, but Harry placed his hand there before he could.

“It’s alright Dobby, I’m not really angry at you. Can you tell me anything?” Harry sighed.

“Tonight. The monster will attack tonight, you need to stay in bed!” Dobby hissed, pointing in the direction of the dormitories on the other side of the castle. “Mister Harry Potter sir must promise to stay in bed!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay in bed.” Harry looked at the grandfather clock nearby, it was nearly curfew. “I’m going to take Hermione to the common room, thank you for warning me Dobby, you did good.” Harry patted the little elf’s head gently, waving goodbye as he went.

Dobby the elf’s big eyes welled with happy tears. The great Harry Potter was so much kinder than his master’s family. He wished he worked for people that cared about him.

“‘Mione.” Harry put his hand over the page she was reading, sliding the book out of her arms and into his own. “We need to go.”

She looked at him quizzically, wanting to argue. Something in his eyes made her not, though. She gathered her things and followed him outside. 

On their walk back to the common room, Harry heard the mysterious voice again, this time very faintly. Whatever was in the castle was awake, but very far. He grabbed Hermione’s book bag and slung it over his shoulder, gripping her hand tightly and pulling her through the hallways faster.

“Harry James-“ she scoffed, trying not to trip as he dragged her along. “What are you doing?”

“We have to go. Do you remember that house elf that visited me in the summer? I told you and Neville about it briefly.”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with you kidnapping me out of the library an hour before curfew.” Her eyes narrowed, Harry could tell she was annoyed.

“He came to warn me again. Said someone could hurt you. We need to get back to the common room where we’re safe.” Harry didn’t look back at her as he spoke, but he could feel the difference in her body language, Hermione was worried now.

“Alright…”

Once inside the common room, Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Hermione was safely sitting on the couch, finishing her homework. He told her to hurry up and go to bed, wishing her goodnight as his headache became more intense. The voice was closer now.

Ginny stumbled past him on the stairs looking groggy, he dodged her and trudged up to his room, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

–

Searing pain flooded Harry’s body early in the morning. One a.m., the clock in his room said. His jolt awoke the two boys nearest to him. Ron looked at him strangely, while Neville got up to check on him immediately.

“Nightmare?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I get them too. But-“ He yawned. “No one’s here, mate. You’re good.”

“No, no.” Harry put a hand to his chest. “This isn’t like my normal nightmares. Something’s not right.” Another jolt struck him, this time in his scar, he doubled over in pain.

Ron joined Neville by his bed, looking concerned. “What do we do Harry…?”

Harry didn’t answer, throwing his blankets off of him as he broke into a cold sweat, stumbling out of his bed and ripping his glasses off the table and onto his face.

Neville followed his best friend down the stairs, making sure he didn’t fall. Harry was heaving heavy breaths and looking around like a madman. Ron was close behind, Lumos cast to help them see what was going on.

Kill….murder….eat

Words flooded Harry’s mind. He couldn’t tell right from left, up from down. He knew he promised Dobby he’d stay in bed but something was very wrong.

Through corridors they went, eventually making it back near the library. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Neville was right behind him, a hand over his mouth. Ron hurried up beside them, his jaw hanging wide open.

Hermione Granger stood at the corner of the hallway, frozen in an odd position. Tucked under her arm was a thick tome, and in her hand was a pocket mirror facing the opposite hall, stuck in her frozen fingers.

“Harry.” Neville swallowed loudly. “Harry, listen to me. Sit down.”

Harry had started shaking, or perhaps convulsing was more like it. Curses and words swirled around in his mind, awful thoughts. That paired with seeing Hermione petrified sent him over the edge.

“Neville, mate, we have to call Professor Dumbledore.” Ron squeaked. “What if the thing that got her is still out here?”

“Start yelling or something, alert the portraits, we need help!” Neville caught Harry just as he collapsed.

Ron ran off immediately, yelling at the portraits to wake up and get Dumbledore. Within minutes, the Headmaster arrived.

“Neville, dear boy. Let me see Harry.” He waved his hand over the shaking boy, stilling his body and making him float. “You two come with me to the Hospital Wing, you just tell Madam Pomfrey what happened.”

Just then, Professor McGonagall appeared. “Headmaster, what has-“ her eyes landed on Hermione, then the unconscious Harry. “Oh, my. Miss Granger…”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XVII~

~A Heartbreak, a Duel, and a Diary~

Harry stumbled over to her cot, his breath caught in his throat. Sam stood, walking around to her younger brother.

“Harry, it’s okay. She’s okay, she’s just petrified.” Sam held his shoulders steady, he was shaking. “Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape, and Professor Sprout are working tirelessly to make the Mandrake draught to cure them.”

Harry looked at her incredulously. “Won’t the Mandrakes not be ready for months?” 

She sighed. “Yes, it will be quite awhile. We’ll leave you with her for a little bit, I’ll give you the notes I took for her too. Take some time off, but be sure to study up when you feel like it.” She ruffled his hair and turned to leave.

Everette followed, patting Harry on the shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened, bud. Take it easy.”

Harry moved to sit in their now empty chair, Elise following close behind. “Nick is writing to her parents. Sam’s right though, she’ll be fine. This is Hermione we’re talking about, hell will freeze over before she lets something like this keep her from her education for too long.”

Harry nodded along to her words absentmindedly, reaching out a shaky hand to touch Hermione's arm. It was cold, freezing even. He reached for the pocket mirror stuck between her icy fingers.

Why did she have this? Hermione wasn’t one to randomly check her appearance while out and about, much less at night while she wasn’t even meant to be up. It didn’t add up. A book rested on her bedside table, unlabeled.

“Hey, bud.” Nick walked over. “How are you feeling now that you’re up and moving?”

“Better, I suppose.”

Nick nodded. “I’ve just sent a letter to the Granger’s residence. There’s nothing they can do from the muggle world, but it’s good that they know.”

—

A week had gone by. Hermione’s parents were in constant communication with Elise and Nick, asking for updates and checking in on Harry as well.

Harry had fallen into an almost robotic routine. Wake up, attend classes, eat lunch, attend more classes, copy notes for Hermione, homework, sleep.

It was exhausting, and it didn’t help that most of his sleep was plagued with nightmares. For now, it was the same old, tired pattern.

—

“It’s a shame I wasn’t there when it happened, you know.” Lockhart stood above Harry, a hand on his heart.

“Sorry?” Harry hadn’t heard him.

“Miss Granger, young man. Had I been there, she would have waltzed away perfectly fine! It’s really a shame I wasn’t present.” He shook his head.

Harry’s frown deepened; he could feel Neville and Ron begging him not to make a scene.

“No one could have stopped it, Professor. We still don’t even know what attacked her, or any of the students for that matter.” He tried a smile. “Us younger students aren’t equipped to defend ourselves against dangers like that.” He fought a smirk, knowing he probably was trained at least somewhat to handle whatever it was terrorizing the school.

“Well of course you aren’t dear boy, of course you aren’t!” Gilderoy tapped his wand to Harry’s desk. “Fret not however, I have just the thought.”

Something about the way he was so proud of himself made Harry extremely uneasy. He already barely trusted the man as it was, and with each passing day his distrust grew and grew.

—

“Lockhart’s starting a dueling club?” Fred asked from across the table.

Ron nodded, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before adding, “Says it’s for our safety against the monster.”

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Lockhart? Starting a dueling club? That pompous ass thinks he can teach us how to duel? I’d love to see it.” She scoffed.

“Now now, Sam. Maybe we’ll be shocked by his teaching!” George smiled. 

“Maybe he’ll even beat Snape. I heard he’s the one helping him with this.” Fred snickered, punching George’s arm.

“Do we have to attend?” Harry rolled his eyes.

Sam swatted at Ron’s hand as he reached for a fourth serving of food, then turned to her brother.

“Yes, Harry. It’s an assignment given to all students.” Sam looked at him sadly. “How is she?”

“Still as ever. It’s weird. She’s alive, I know she is, but it doesn’t feel like it.” Harry looked at his plate. “No heartbeat, no breath, she just…exists.”

“She’ll be back in full gear before you know it, Harry.” Neville gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Just think, soon you’ll be wishing she’d stop talking your ear off about homework and essays!”

Harry nodded, smiling at his other best friend. He didn’t have the heart to say he’d give anything to hear her nag him again. To hear her at all.

—

The next day rolled around. Harry sat next to Neville and Ron once more in DADA. This time however, they were on bleachers on one side of a dueling stage.

Lockhart waltzed in wearing a fashionable dueling suit, lavender, the girls had pointed out.

“Alright students!” He raised his wand with a sonorous spell to his throat. “Professor Snape and I will now demonstrate the proper dueling customs, as well as give you an example of a real wizard’s duel. Pay close attention now!”

Some other students who had off periods had gathered to watch, eager to witness Lockhart in action. One such was Sam, she stood directly across from Harry, a look of disdain evident on her face.

Lockhart and Snape assumed their positions on either end, taking their paces toward each other, bowing and then their paces away from each other. Finally, they whipped around.

Within ten seconds, Snape had thrown about three spells at Lockhart, sending him flying backwards and landing on his side. He scurried back up.

“Well- well done Professor Snape, excellent work. I’m going easy on you to show the children it’s okay to get hit!” He laughed, dusting himself off and assuming his stance once more.

The next two rounds followed the same pattern, with Lockhart on the floor in a heap of limbs, and Snape calm and unbothered.

Harry was almost impressed Lockhart didn’t get a single spell in.

“Alright, who wants to give it a go! We’ll need two duelists!” Lockhart motioned to the students, urging them to volunteer. 

For a moment, no one moved. Sam caught Harry’s eye, she gave him a look that seemed to say “don’t do it.”

Snape jerked Malfoy’s arm up, giving the crowd a sneer. “Mister Malfoy would like to volunteer.”

Malfoy walked onto the stage then, looking a little confused. Snape whispered something in his ear.

“Excellent! I believe Mister Potter will be up to the challenge, what do you say Harry?” Lockhart extended his arm out to him.

Harry sighed. “Yes sir.”

Malfoy assumed his position on the stage, as did Harry. One look at the boy’s ice-grey eyes told Harry he was in for some malicious spell casting. This would not be a fair fight.

“Alright boys, you know the drill. Non lethal spells only, stick to what you know. Try your best, good luck!” Lockhart hopped off the stage then, ready to referee.

Harry turned to make his paces, he knew how to duel. He’d only been drilled on it hundreds of times. The formal version as well as informal. Anything a bigoted pureblood spawn could throw at him would be easily countered and finished, that he was confident in.

 He heard Malfoy do the same routine. Just before the last step, he heard the blonde make his turn, mere milliseconds before he should have. Harry grit his teeth. So, he was already cheating? Wonderful.

Harry dodged the Stupefy sent his way, crouching down. He held up a protego to block the next one. Seconds later, he sent two tripping jinxes at Malfoy, one caught him in the shin.

On his way down, Malfoy shot levicorpus, missing Harry by mere inches. He rolled to the side and shot two more Stupefies.

Harry dodged the first, but the second one just grazed his elbow, leaving the effect for a moment. Enough time for Malfoy to move closer. 

“Serpensortia!” Malfoy’s voice rang clear.

A black snake erupted from his wand, slithering towards Harry at lightning speed. Just before it reached him, it raised its head high, its fangs glinting in the light as it prepared to bite.

“Stop.” Harry said, brandishing his wand. 

He was surprised when the snake listened. Maybe, since it wasn’t technically a real snake, it could understand him? 

“Stop attacking. Go away.” He tried, pointing off-handedly to his right.

Malfoy looked horrified, the crowd was silent. Harry noticed it then, the fact that Malfoy was unguarded, and used that to end it.

“Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Levicorpus!” Harry shot spell after spell, each one hitting its mark.

Malfoy now hung upside down, no wand in sight. His face was bright red with anger and embarrassment.

“Alright, alright! Put him down Mister Potter, you’ve won.” Lockhart came back on stage, laughing nervously.

Everyone’s eyes were still on the snake, slithering slowly off the stage, just as Harry instructed. Snape vanished it quickly, bringing Malfoy down next and taking him out of the room.

Harry stood still, expecting applause or to be told to get off the stage for the next duelists. Instead, Lockhart stared at him strangely. 

“Why don’t you take a break. A walk perhaps? Be sure to attend any classes you have left for the rest of the day, but you’re excused.” He waved him off with a smile.

Harry shrugged, fine by him. He didn’t want to be here anyway. On his way out, someone grabbed his shoulder.

“Harry.” Samantha whispered. “Come here.”

She practically dragged him out of the doors. Holding his shoulders at arms length in the hallway, inspecting him.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” She asked.

“No?”

“Good, I don’t know what Malfoy was thinking. A venomous snake? Someone could have gotten seriously hurt.” She huffed. “Also, you didn’t tell me you were a Parselmouth? What the hell bro, I’m literally your sister?”

“A what?” Harry blinked confusedly.

“You...you can talk to snakes. Did you know that?” She suddenly looked concerned, taking a step back.

“You mean when I told it to stop attacking me and go away? I figured it only understood me cause it wasn’t real.” Harry shrugged. “I was only speaking English though.”

“No Harry, you weren’t speaking English. You hissed at it. I think the crowd thought you were trying to send it after that one kid when you pointed off stage.” She frowned.

“Oh.” Harry’s mouth hung open. “But…how can I speak a language I don’t know? I’ve never spoken to snakes!”

“I’m not sure, but you might want to clear that up with your classmates, they seemed pretty scared.” She chuckled. “Come on kid, let’s go make Everette get us some food from the kitchens.”

Harry smiled. “Okay.”

—

“We had a new assignment from Lockhart. A dueling club. He was supposed to teach us how to duel properly.” Harry told Hermione, jotting down notes from class. “I think it’s bollocks. The man can’t aim a spell to save his life, I really don’t know how he survived all those disasters he was in…”

Her silence was expected, but disappointing nevertheless. Harry reached for the book on her nightstand. He hadn’t thought to open it until now.

The worn leather binding was basically dust, Harry had to open it slowly and precisely, afraid of ripping the pages clean out. Inside, he saw various drawings and their descriptions, all of magical creatures.

A red ribbon was stuck between two pages, one Harry recognized that Hermione had in her hair before. He turned to that page.

Ten minutes went by, Harry stood frozen above the book. Finally, he dropped it like it was hot iron, running out of the Hospital Wing.

Basilisk. It was circled in the book, Hermione committed the all-too-serious crime of defacing a textbook to send him a message, so he knew she was serious. 

The book had endless warnings written out. Basilisks are some of the most dangerous magical creatures to ever exist. There was no way in hell one should be roaming around the school, but it all made sense.

His head swam with realizations. The voices he’d been hearing, he wasn’t crazy after all. No one else could hear them because it was a snake speaking. Harry caught his breath in a nearby hall, stumbling through the castle. He had to tell someone.

But…who would believe him? As he turned the corner of the dark, secluded hallway, his fear bubbled up.

He felt himself gag, clutching the stone wall for support. When he regained his composure he pulled his hand away. It was wet. Upon closer inspection, it was not just wet, it was covered in blood.

He fell backward, tripping over a book on the ground. A notebook, it seemed. He glanced at the empty pages.

“What the hell is going on here…” he whispered. 

The wall had another cryptic message scrawled out.

“Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.”

Harry bent down, snatched the notebook, and slammed himself shut in a nearby empty classroom. The Professors would find this soon, and if he was there he’d be blamed once more.

His hands shook as he flipped through the notebook one more time. Every page was empty, but it didn’t look new. He turned it over.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle” was inscribed onto the back of the notebook in gold lettering. Harry paused, maybe it wasn’t a notebook, but a diary? Still, the fact remains that it was empty, and Tom wasn’t a girl’s name, so what did it have to do with the message?

Harry set it back down on the table, and it flipped open once more. He thought that was strange, still he moved to flip the page, accidentally turning it with his bloody hand. Before his very eyes, the blood seemed to seep through the page. He held it up and turned more pages, but the blood was completely gone.

“Uhh…that’s strange.” He set it down, wondering what would happen if he wrote in it.

Thus began the search for a quill. He found one shortly after, eagerly returning to the desk. The quill dripped with ink as he hastily brought it to the page. As he suspected, the ink disappeared.

He thought for a moment, then wrote “hi.” the first simple phrase that came to mind. The ink disappeared like before, but just as he was about to write something else, the ink re-materialized.

“Hello.” It said.

Harry bolted back from the diary like he’d been burned. Did it just respond?

With a deep breath, he grabbed the quill once more. “Who are you?” He wrote, his penmanship scratchy with how much his hand was shaking.

“I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.” The diary wrote back in loopy, almost too-perfect script. “Who are you?”

“My name is Harry Potter.” Harry answered. “How am I communicating with you like this?”

The diary faded his words into its page, then letters appeared in an almost jump-like fashion, as if to communicate humor. “Magic.”

Harry frowned, unamused. “What’s your story, Tom?” 

He wondered who he could be, he didn’t know anybody by this name at school here, so perhaps an alumni left an old relic? The question was, how old? 

“I was a student here many years ago. I walked these halls when I was a boy, just like you.” The diary’s words appeared, then disappeared just as quickly.

Harry thought for a moment. What else could he ask? Thoughts of the strange events happening came to mind. Perhaps Tom Riddle knew something that could help him get rid of the basilisk.

“Do you know how to defeat a basilisk?” Harry wrote.

“I do.” 

“Can you tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you need to know how to defeat one, have you seen one before?”

“I think there’s one here, in Hogwarts. It’s been petrifying students.” Harry needed whatever answers this diary held, he knew how to defeat the monster!

“Ah, yes. That happened when I was a student here too. The Chamber was opened.”

Harry balked. “Can you tell me how it was defeated?”

“It wasn’t.”

Harry frowned. Was it the same one from all those years ago? 

“Can you tell me what happened when you were a student here? Who opened the Chamber?”

“I cannot tell you.”

Harry was about to burn the book from frustration, how is it that this diary has all the answers, but won’t tell him any of them?

“But I can show you.”

Harry blinked. “Show me?” This, he said aloud.

He touched the page where the text had just disappeared, would it draw a picture perhaps? A beat of silence set in. Harry wondered where Tom had gone off to. Just as he was about to write another question though, the diary began to glow. Unable to tear his hand away, Harry felt himself being pulled into the pages, his body pulling and stretching until he stood rooted to the spot in a different area of the castle.

This past era of Hogwarts was dull in colour, and the air was thick with tension. Harry felt uneasy. Suddenly, a student appeared in the corridor. Harry assumed this must be Tom, he moved to speak to him, but Tom didn’t seem to notice his presence.

“Hello?” Harry said, waving his arm.

Tom didn’t respond. Harry looked around. He must be invisible to the people here, in this memory or whatever this was. He sighed. Tom was staring at a staircase, waiting.

Harry watched the scenes Tom showed him with rapt interest. So, moaning Myrtle was the victim of the basilisk? That explained why she haunts that bathroom here. He learned that Hagrid was a student here, and not only that, but he was also accused of releasing the beast. Harry thought that was ridiculous. Anyone who knew the half-giant knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Harry couldn’t tell if he trusted Tom or not. He seemed convinced Hagrid had done it, even going as far to confront the poor guy. Something about him was…off. Harry couldn’t quite place it. Sure, he was charming and he seemed sharp, but there was this glint in his eyes. One could mistake it for ambition, dedication to his craft. Harry thought it seemed more sinister, more evil.

When he returned to his own time, Harry knew what he had to do. He slammed the book shut and tucked it into his robes. It should have been about dinnertime by now, and he needed to ask Hagrid for anything he knew about the basilisk. He raced to the Great Hall, his steps frantic, what if the beast was out now?

He ran into the Great Hall, intent on letting Neville in on his discoveries first, when he noticed a shift in the room. Hushed whispers and terrified glances met him as he walked to Gryffindor table. Neville met his eyes, sending him an apologetic look.

“Why’s everyone looking at me like that?” Harry muttered as he sat down.

“They think you’ve done it, mate.” Ron said, not looking up from his food.

Neville glared at the redhead. “Today, during the duel, everyone thinks you sent the snake at Justin.”

“Finch-Fletchley? Why would I do that? I was telling the snake to stop attacking.” Harry frowned. “Sam warned me this might happen…”

“We know you’d never do that, but…” Neville sighed. “They think you’re the heir of Slytherin, Harry. They think you’ve been attacking the victims in the Hospital Wing…”

Harry balked. “What?”

“I know, I know. It’s stupid.” Neville shook his head.

Harry rubbed his temple, trying not to let his anger lash out. “I’ll have to deal with that later, for now, I need to tell you what happened just now. Meet me outside the common room after dinner.”

Neville nodded.

“Is it about Hermione?” Ron asked.

Harry paused. “No…well, sort of.”

“Can I come? If you found something out to help save her, I want to be there.” Ron looked at him, his eyes full of sincerity.

Harry and Neville shared a glance. “Why?” Neville asked.

“I saw her leaving that night, right at midnight. I should have told her not to go.” His eyes fell to the table. “I could have stopped her and then she’d still be here.”

Harry didn’t hide his shock very well. Ron felt guilty about letting Hermione leave? Even though nothing he could have said would have stopped her? What happened to the Ron he knew?

“Alright, but it’s not your fault, you know?” Harry patted him on the shoulder. “She would have hexed you into next month if you tried to stop her from going to her lair.”

Neville chuckled. “Harry’s right, you can’t blame yourself for that Ron. Besides, she’ll be awake soon.”

Ron nodded, a small smile on his face. 

–

Harry grabbed his book bag stocked with the essentials for their next journey. He pulled out the invisibility cloak he’d received for Christmas and stared at it in awe. It was finally time to put it to good use. The diary was the only other thing in the bag, but it looked overloaded with the cloak stuffed in the bag.

Harry was on his way to meet the other two Gryffindor boys outside the common room, when he was stopped by the Weasley twins. 

“Have you seen our sister?” Fred asked. 

“We can’t find her, she wasn’t at dinner.” George added.

“Uh, no. I haven’t. Was she in class today?” Harry felt the same unease rise in his throat that he’d gotten used to this year, something was wrong.

“Dunno, but Justin was just found petrified.” Fred sighed.

“Nearly headless Nick too, the attacks have gotten more frequent.” George shook his head.

“We’ll find her.” Harry assured them. “She has to turn up soon, you know she likes to chat with her friends.”

“But McGonagall made that whole announcement at dinner about not being anywhere except your classes or the common room.” Fred said.

“And to not go anywhere alone, but all the Gryffindor first years are here, except Ginny.” George said, motioning around the common room.

“Look guys, I don’t know where she is, but we’ll find her soon, don’t worry.” Harry sped past them towards the portrait hole.

Eyes followed him on his way out, he could feel the stares on his back like fire. Still, he pressed on. Neville and Ron stood just outside, impatient looks on their faces.

“What’s going on, Harry?” Neville asked.

“You’ll see, for now, we need to all get under here.” Harry took out the cloak.

“You have an invisibility cloak?” Ron’s eyes just about popped out of his head.

“Yes, now let’s go.” Harry threw it over the three of them and they began their march to the grounds. “We’re going to Hagrid’s hut. I’ll explain everything just outside.”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XVIII~

~Spiders and Slides~

Neville and Ron stood slack-faced outside of Hagrid’s hut after Harry explained everything he’d learned. 

“A Basilisk?” Ron stammered out. “But…but…how is anyone still alive? Basilisks are super dangerous!”

“Well, haven’t you noticed?” Neville still looked appalled by this discovery, but was putting two and two together in his head. “All of the attacks have been on muggle-borns! Someone is targeting them.”

“Exactly,” Harry nodded. “And the last time this happened, Hagrid was involved, which is why we’re here.”

“Hagrid? How would he have been involved? Did he help release it?” Ron asked, suddenly rethinking every thought he’d ever had about the half-giant.

“I don’t know anything for sure, all I know is he was accused of releasing it. He was obviously never proven guilty though, or he wouldn’t be here.” Harry shrugged. “This is what we’re here to figure out. What happened back then, and what’s going on now?”

Harry took ten decisive steps towards the door, raising his hand to knock. Three taps sounded around the mostly silent grounds. A minute passed, then the door creaked open slightly. 

“Who’s there….” Hagrid’s gruff voice came from inside.

“Hagrid! It’s me, Harry. I have Ron and Neville too. Can we talk?” Harry gave his best attempt at an innocent smile.

“Harry? What’re ye three doin’ out this late? Shouldn’t ye be in bed by now?” Hagrid opened the door all the way, waving them in.

“We had to talk to you, something is going on in the castle! Something very wrong.” Harry sat at Hagrid’s table, looking up at him. “Have you ever heard about the Chamber of Secrets?”

Hagrid stopped mid-stride. “Where did ye hear abou’ that now, Harry? That’s dangerous stuff, that is.”

Neville and Ron joined Harry, looking slightly more timid than usual. 

“I know Hagrid. Someone opened it, and they’re accusing me of doing it. It’s so unfair!” Harry sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and looking away.

Hagrid frowned. Neville noticed something flash across his face–recognition–he’d seen this happen before.

A silence settled over the house. Just as Harry was about to speak again, loud talking could be heard from outside. Hagrid was up quickly, hissing at the boys to leave out the back door.

“Why?” Ron asked.

“Ye don’t wanna be here for this, boys—trust me. Definitely don’t wanna be caught outside after curfew anyway, righ’?” Hagrid offered a small smile. “Go on, get out.”

Neville and Ron hurried out the door, but Harry lingered in the doorway. A glance back at the half-giant saw the feeling of dread he’d had from hearing the voices earlier rise exponentially. 

Hagrid looked out the window. “They’re here for me, Harry.” He sighed. “The spiders…follow the spiders, they’ll give ye the answers yer lookin’ for.”

Harry hurried out the back as the knocks at the front sounded, confused by Hagrid’s last statement.

“What do we do now, Harry?” Neville whispered.

“He told me to “follow the spiders” but…” Harry glanced around. “I dunno what that means.”

Ron looked antsy. “I don’t like spiders…” He shook his head. “They’re gross.”

As he spoke, Neville noticed a spider near his foot, then another. One by one he realized there was a line of spiders all heading toward the forest.

“Uhh guys?” Neville gestured towards the ground.

Ron leapt backwards with so much force he toppled over, Harry looked disgusted.

“Well, I guess this is what he meant…” Harry held out his hand to Ron. “C'mon mate, we have to see where they’re going, just look up and follow us.”

As they trudged on, Harry looked back at Hagrid’s hut one last time. He froze in his tracks. Four ministry employees dragged out the half-giant, bound with magic. Lucius Malfoy and the minister followed close behind. Harry’s blood boiled. Why were they taking Hagrid? After talking to him, it’s obvious he has nothing to do with the Chamber. He might know who released it the first time, but that is a ridiculous thing to arrest him for. 

“There’s nothing we can do mate, except prove his innocence. Let’s go, Ron looks like he might bolt any second.” Neville rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Harry nodded. “Right, let’s go find out what he wanted us to see.”

—

A long walk and many Stupefies later—they stood before a massive acromantula. It had called off the rest of the spiders for now, but only because Harry mentioned Hagrid. Ron quivered between the other two boys, his biggest fear looking at him from all directions.

“Why have you come here?” The acromantula drawled out disapprovingly.

“Hagrid said you could tell us what happened with the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.” Harry gulped.

The acromantula made a noise similar to a sigh. “This again? The monster of the Chamber is not me or my brothers and sisters, but that rotten snake.”

“We know! But we need to know what exactly happened. Who opened the Chamber and why?” Harry fought the tremble in his voice.

“I don’t know who opened the Chamber, all I know is that the snake killed a little girl. Her ghost resides in the same place she died. It will kill again, it’s about to as we speak.” The acromantula narrowed its many eyes. “I told you what I know, now leave.”

Spiders rushed the boys; they scrambled out of the forest at light speed, only breaking their run as they neared the castle. Ron looked pale as a ghost when they got inside, but he managed to make it back unscathed—physically, of course.

“She resides in the same place she died. That little girl was moaning Myrtle, I know that.” Harry thought for a moment. “The bathroom, we have to go to the bathroom.”

Neville followed him, dragging Ron behind. 

Three minutes later, they stood outside the girl’s bathroom. Harry pushed open the door and crept inside, wand raised.

 “Myrtle?” He whispered.

Giggling echoed throughout the bathroom, and soon Harry was face to face with a young ghost. 

“Hiii Harry, are you visiting me?” Her smile sent chills up Harry’s spine.

“Uh, no—well, yes. I need to know how you died…” Harry trailed off, perhaps that was insensitive.

Moaning Myrtle circled around him. “Right here is where it happened. All I remember is turning around to these big, yellow eyes. Then, well, now I’m here.” 

She looked sad, maybe a bit frightened. Just as Harry was about to ask another question, Neville opened the door. 

“Uhh we have a problem.” He glanced back out into the hall. “Ron finally fainted, but he fell on his wand; the thing’s cracked pretty badly.” He put the cracked wand in his back pocket.

“Lovely.” Harry sighed. 

“Okay, bigger problem. Lockhart’s coming this way. He’s already seen us.” Neville rolled his eyes. “Love to hear what he has to say about this…”

Neville came all the way inside, rubbing his temple. “Hello, Myrtle. Sorry to bother.” He muttered.

The door opened once more. “Boys, what is the meaning of this?”

Harry didn’t answer, instead he looked around the room for signs of the basilisk. 

“We’re um… hiding, sir.” Neville said. 

“From what? Did you see the basilisk? Is that ginger boy petrified?” Lockhart got in his face, almost too eager for the answer.

“Stupefy.” Harry said, momentarily freezing the Professor. 

“You’re going to get in so much trouble for that…” Neville sighed. 

“I’ll deal with it. Look.” Harry traced a snake on one of the sinks. “Do you think it’s like…a door?”

“A door to where? There’s not much space there.” Neville shrugged. 

Harry glanced at him strangely. “We’re magic, for all we know this could be a portal or something. I don’t think anyone’s worried about lack of space with expansion charms.”

Neville’s cheeks pinked a little. “Good point.”

Harry was deep in thought. A basilisk was inside the room somehow, he could hear it talking in here, much clearer than before. If he had a snake monster he could control, how would he hide it?

“Wait, let me try something.” Harry stepped back. “Open.” He hissed.

The sink transformed before their very eyes, showing a dark passage. The basilisk was even louder now.

Neville looked surprised. “I forgot you were a Parselmouth.”

“Me too.” Harry glanced back at Lockhart. “We should take him with us, he is a teacher.”

“Do you think he’ll go?” Neville looked skeptical.

“Isn’t his whole thing like…adventure or whatever? Beating the odds, making the impossible possible?”

“Right, right. Okay well wake him up I guess.” 

Harry released his Stupefy, and Neville held onto the Professor's arm to steady him.

“Now, listen here boys– I don’t know what’s happening, and I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you need to get back to your rooms!” Lockhart looked between the two disapprovingly before his eyes landed on the eerie slide.

“Just what have you found in here, Mister Potter?” He walked towards it.

Neville and Harry shared a glance. “We wanted to ask you if you could help us find out, you are one of the most powerful wizards of all time…”

Neville nodded. “Once we saw you in the hallway, we knew you were the person to ask. So can you help us?”

The two gave their best pleading look.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, before a smile stretched across his face. “Well now, how can I refuse a proposal such as that? And from Harry Potter no less? Let’s go boys, we’ve got a secret passageway to explore.”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XIX~

~Basilisk Battle~

The stone slide was slick and cold, Harry fought the gag that came from the smell of the passage. Neville was quick behind him, and Lockhart was last. As their feet hit the bottom, they were consumed by darkness. A chorus of “Lumos” saw them examining a long tunnel.

“What is that?” Neville muttered, disgust evident in his voice.

A long, mostly clear mass of something wound its way throughout the tunnel. Upon closer inspection, Harry sighed.

“Snakeskin.” He brushed his hand over it.

“Let’s keep going,” Harry continued on carefully. “Remember to be quiet.”

“This really is quite interesting.” Lockhart glanced around. “Reminds me of the time I single-handedly-”

“Professor!” Harry hissed, motioning for him to be quiet.

The faint sound of movement from the far side of the corridor was getting louder by the second. Harry’s heart rate picked up with every shuffle. Just as he heard it get near him, a tiny mouse ran past him and up the slide.

Harry and Neville both sighed. “It was just a mouse…” Neville chuckled softly. “Why am I so on edge still?”

“Because we’re getting closer.” Harry answered as they came up on a door.

Seven stone snakes flowed from the edge of the circular door. It was sealed shut with no obvious way to open. Harry stared at it curiously.

“A dead end.” Lockhart shook his head. “It’s a real shame, this would have been quite the adventure. Let’s head back now.”

“Wait, Professor. Harry can open it.” Neville held up a hand, stepping in front of Lockhart. “Open it like before, Harry.”

Harry nodded, hissing the word “open” once more. Just like the sink that opened the passage, the door began to open.

Lockhart’s unease had grown spectacularly while he was down here. Harry had been watching him shift uncomfortably the whole time. He knew something didn’t add up about his character, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what. For all of his grandiose stories, he seemed quite the coward.

It was this attentiveness that made Harry aware of the wand currently pointed at Neville’s neck, “Obliviate” halfway out of Gilderoy’s mouth.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, making the wand fly backward, Lockhart’s spell missing Neville by mere inches. 

Neville whirled around, once to the Professor, and then back to Harry.

A fatal mistake–he forgot about the wand currently in his back pocket–Lockhart grabbed it and recast his spell before Harry could react.

“Obliviate!” The flash was blinding, Harry recoiled, covering his eyes.

When he opened them, his wand was pointed at the Professor, Expelliarmus on his tongue. He froze however, because Lockhart was currently on the floor. Neville stood above him, perfectly fine.

“He used Ron’s broken wand…” Neville rubbed his temple. “He casted that on himself.”

Harry blinked. “What happens when you cast a memory charm on yourself?”

“I…don’t know.” Neville crouched down to check on the man. “He’s still breathing, and he looks fine. He’s just unconscious.”

“Right, well…” Harry pocketed his own wand. “Let’s move him to the wall and keep going.”

Neville nodded, helping him drag the Professor to sit against the wall.

They made their way through the door, and Harry’s thoughts swam with the basilisk’s thoughts.

Kill…

He shook it off, creeping through the corridor. His bookbag shivered suddenly. He grabbed the strap wondering if he imagined it. Just then, it erupted, and the diary shot up and out, crashing into the ceiling. Stone came crashing down from where the diary hit and Harry barely had time to shove Neville out of the way before a pile of debris separated them. Neville was stuck on the other side, closest to the way out. Harry was trapped alone with the basilisk.

“Harry!” Neville called. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, are you?” Harry called back.

“I’m fine. What should I do?” Neville got up and paced around the debris. “I can’t get through.”

Harry was watching the diary jerk around as if possessed, further and further down the hallway. “Just…go get Dumbledore!” He stood up to follow it. “Bring Lockhart up with you and tell Dumbledore what’s going on!”

“Got it-” Neville turned to go. “But what will you do?”

“I’m going to follow the diary, I have to make sure no one is down here. The last message said something about a girl being trapped here forever.” Harry jogged off. “Hurry up and get Dumbledore!”

The diary slammed into the floor and wall on its way forward, Harry followed it, eyes alert and wand raised. He knew this was stupid–suicidal even–but he couldn’t risk leaving somebody down here if he had the chance to save them. 

As he got further and further into the Chamber, the diary became more erratic in its movements. Harry was at a full run to catch up to it now. Finally, the tunnel he’d been running through opened to reveal a large open area, with a huge statue of a man’s face.

In the centre of the Chamber, Ginny Weasley lay motionless, the diary open by her side. Harry’s heart sank, was she dead? He was about to rush to her side when the figure of a boy appeared. He recognized him as Tom Riddle.

“Tom, what’s happened to her?” He asked, crouching down to check her pulse.

“She’s fine.” Something in Tom’s voice stopped him, he glanced up.

“She isn’t fine. You lied.” Harry stood. “What’s going on?”

Tom smiled. A charming smile, Harry felt almost inclined to believe him. There was something in his eyes though, that made him want to run away.

“She won’t wake, but she’s alive.” He cocked his head to the side. “For now.”

Harry swallowed nervously, that wasn’t good. “How are you here…are you a ghost?”

“No, a memory. Trapped in a diary for fifty years.”

“Tom, we’ve got to get her out of here, there’s a basilisk-“ Harry reached for Ginny’s arm.

“No. I’m afraid she won’t be going anywhere, not yet.” Tom walked around them slowly.

“What do you mean no? She’s dying!” 

“She must stay. Besides, she won’t come until she’s called.”

“Who?” Harry glanced around.

Instead of answering, Harry felt his wand being taken out of his back pocket, he twirled around and snatched it back. 

“Why would you take that…?” Harry seethed.

“You won’t be needing it.”

“Enough of this, I’m going to save her.” Harry stood.

“I’m afraid there will be no one leaving this Chamber until I say so. You see, as Ginny grows weaker, I grow stronger. I need her energy to possess her fully.” Tom leaned over and smiled at the unconscious redhead.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. “What? But...she’ll die!”

“It’s true, but then she’s been in so much pain, poor girl. She’s been writing to me for months you see, pouring out her hopes and dreams, her worries and fears. She’s given me everything, and I just got enough power to start feeding her my own secrets, my own dreams.”

Tom crouched to caress the top of Ginny’s head. “To start giving her my soul.”

Harry held back a gasp. “It was Ginny.” He muttered.

“Yes, well done, Harry.” Tom looked up at him. “Poor, young Ginny was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She unleashed the basilisk on the Mudbloods. Soon she will feed on the rest, but first I must have her completely.”

“But she couldn’t- she wouldn’t! Why would she?” Harry noticed Tom becoming more and more solid by the second; he had to break the connection somehow.

“Because I told her to. You’ll find I’m very charming.” He smiled. “She tried to give up; she knew what she was doing was wrong. She abandoned the diary in that hall, and who should it stumble upon, but you? The very boy I was so desperate to find.”

“Why did you want to find me?” Harry stood, drawing his wand behind his back.

“Ginny told me lots about you, but that wasn’t the only reason. You see, as soon as you wrote to me, I felt our connection. I decided to show you my capture of that brainless half-giant to get you angry, and it worked…but that doesn’t matter anymore, you figured out how to work the diary immediately, and then found me here.” Tom rose to meet his eyes. “In just a few moments, Ginny will belong to me, and I will release the basilisk once more.”

“Why do you want to kill muggle-borns?” Harry backed away, suddenly very afraid.

“Oh, I don’t care so much about them anymore. For a long time now, my target has been you.” Tom smirked.

“Why is it you want to meet me so badly? I have no connection to you!”

“Oh, but you do. I have so many questions for you, you see?” Tom crossed his arms.

“Like what…?”

“Well, how is it that a powerless infant managed to destroy the greatest wizard of all time? How did you survive with nothing but a scar, but Voldemort's powers were completely and utterly destroyed?”

Harry scoffed. “Why should you care? Voldemort rose to power after your time. My escape has nothing to do with you.”

Tom moved like lightning, suddenly in Harry’s face. “But it has everything to do with me, Potter.” He snatched Harry’s wand and began to scratch out letters in the air.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Harry gulped. “That’s your name. What about it?”

Tom smiled, suddenly moving the letter around to form a phrase.

I am Lord Voldemort

Harry felt his whole body stiffen. “You’re the heir of Slytherin…you’re Voldemort.”

Just then, a loud rumbling could be heard from the end of the Chamber. Tom looked on with that same strange smile. Harry took the opportunity to snatch his wand back.

“Let’s see what Dumbledore’s champion can do against the greatest wizard of all time.” He held out his hand and began hissing a command.

Harry understood every word.

“Kill him, my darling pet.”

Harry didn’t wait to see the beast fully emerge, deciding the very glimpse he got was enough; he ran through a nearby tunnel, shoes slapping against the wet stone. He huddled in a small alcove, begging his breath to steady and his heart to still. The snake charged through the tunnel, missing him by mere inches. He headed back to the Chamber.

“Stop this, Tom!” He hissed, whipping his head around wildly in search of the basilisk.

Then, a screech echoed through the cavern. A phoenix burst through flames in the centre of the Chamber, dropping something in front of Harry.

“The sorting hat…?” He mumbled.

The phoenix, which Harry hadn’t seen before, circled above him. Stalking, waiting. Harry snatched the hat and stuffed it into his robe, ducking into a nearby tunnel.

What was he supposed to do with a hat..?

He could hear Tom laughing maniacally with Ginny, making fun of Dumbledore’s useless aide. So the phoenix belonged to Dumbledore…

As the basilisk burst out into the Chamber once more, the phoenix dove, bravely attacking the basilisk head-on. Harry held his breath as it screeched and scratched. 

Tom’s laughing stopped. “Bloody bird! Get away from her!” He yelled.

Harry glanced at the snake, surprised. It was blind now. The phoenix scratched its eyes so violently it couldn’t see anymore.

This gave him the advantage. It was tracking him with nothing but scent and hearing. As long as he was quiet, he’d be fine. After all, he smelled like the sewer and dungeon by now; he fit right in. He snuck further into the tunnel, noticing the basilisk had begun to rampage; now it really wouldn’t be able to hear him. He braced himself. How could he kill a basilisk?

The sorting hat tucked into his robe shifted uncomfortably, and suddenly Harry heard him speak.

“You’re lucky we’re in danger, boy. This is no way to treat a priceless relic like myself…” It huffed.

Harry panicked for a moment, afraid Tom or the basilisk might hear, but quickly realized the hat was speaking to him in his mind—rather than aloud.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to drop you…” Harry thought.

“It’s fine. We mustn’t focus on that now—how are you going to kill the beast?” 

Harry considered his options. Though obviously visually impaired, there was no guarantee its powers wouldn’t work on him still—he had to remain cautious. His best bet was a supercharged offensive spell to its face, particularly the eyes.

“That won’t do. Basilisk skin is nearly indestructible. Still, I admire your courage. One doesn’t come across many twelve-year-olds willing to kill a basilisk for a friend.” The hat made a face as if pondering something difficult.

“Then what do you suggest?” Harry groaned inwardly. 

Was it really impossible to beat this thing without help from an adult? How could he expect to defend himself from anything if the best course of action was to wait for a stronger ally? Plus, Ginny didn’t have that kind of time. He had to do something, and fast.

“Interesting.” The hat mumbled. “Mister Potter, it seems you’ve received a gift.”

Harry frowned. A gift? Now? What was the hat on about?

Just then, Harry noticed the sorting hat became a lot heavier than before. Not only that, but something was slipping out of it. A shiny, metal…

“A sword…?” Harry grabbed it before it could hit the floor.

He pulled it out of the hat, admiring it in its full glory. The silver hilt was set with rubies and had an intricate design of a griffin across the length of it. The actual blade was slender, but sharp. Harry could feel an ancient magic radiating from it.

“Not just any sword. The sword of Gryffindor.” The hat grumbled. “It seems Godric wishes to give his descendant the upper hand…”

Harry didn’t have time to dwell on that now, clutching the sword close. The basilisk had returned, it was just around the corner. He considered his options, stuffing the sorting hat back in his cloak.

He noticed a loose rock, mere inches from his left foot. The basilisk was close enough to see now, and Harry could tell it sensed him, if only slightly. He stopped down to grab the rock, lobbing it as far as he could down the tunnel in one swift motion.

The basilisk reacted instantly, careening down the tunnel towards the noise. Harry could feel his heartbeat in his temples, pulsing wildly. He gripped the sword and made his way out slowly, carefully, his footfalls a perfect rhythmic pattern from his practice with Elise. He couldn’t afford to mess up now.

As he peeked out into the main Chamber, he saw Tom pacing angrily by Ginny, it seemed she still wasn’t quite dead enough to give him the power he needed. Harry sighed internally, he had time. 

Carefully still, he snuck his way into the Chamber, in full view of all of the tunnels. He saw it then, the massive snake heading towards him once more. It still hadn’t realized he was there.

Tom had, however, and one sick grin told Harry the snake now knew too. With a snap of his ghostly fingers, the basilisk tore after him.

Harry ran as fast as he could towards the other end of the Chamber, dodging the basilisk’s gnashing by a hair each time. In a moment of genius, he evaded it just quickly enough so that it slammed its head into the wall, confusing it.

It was then that he clambered up the intricate carving of what he assumed was Salazar Slytherin’s head, only stopping when he reached the top.

There, he brandished the sword, waving it wildly at the beast. It was making small nicks and cuts, but nothing was slowing it down. Finally, after it almost bit him in two, he managed to shove his arm through its barely open mouth and stab upwards with all his might. 

The blade pierced through the roof of its mouth and all the way out, making a disgusting noise as it popped through. Harry grimaced as he tore it back out, praying the fight was over. He barely noticed the loose fang buried deep in his own arm, he was too overwhelmed by the basilisk’s screams.

Tom’s own screams echoed that of his pet, and Harry couldn’t help but shudder as he made his way closer. Tom couldn’t hurt him as he was, he was too weak. Ginny was still alive, and the monster was dead, all he had to do was get rid of the diary. 

He limped over, finally noticing the fang lodged in his arm.

“Tom!” He shouted, sounding much weaker than he intended.

The panicking ghost-memory looked at him with pure hatred. “What now?”

Harry frowned. “Stay dead.”

With the last of his strength he drove the sword through the diary. It sparked and bubbled from the combination of dark and pure magic. The sword of Gryffindor was pure enough to dismantle all of the traces of evil left on the diary. With one last look at Tom, he wrenched the fang lodged in his arm free, stabbing it in the already mostly dissolved diary to drive his point.

Harry’s eyes closed to the symphony of a dying Tom and the phoenix’s triumphant screeching. He could vaguely hear his name being cursed as the memory of a young Tom Riddle shriveled away into nothing, as it should have many years ago.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XX~

~The Awakening~

Harry, despite being almost unconscious, felt something odd crawling on his body. Every nerve of his body shook with fear. Had the basilisk not truly been dead? Was this how he died, swallowed by a big beast? He felt tears well up behind his closed eyelids as he willed them open. Just then, when he seemed ready to panic completely, he felt a rush of cool air wash over his whole body. Somebody was healing his arm, he could feel whatever it was they were pouring onto it. With newfound strength, he opened his eyes and sat up, taking in his surroundings. The phoenix was crying over his wounded arm, and with each tear it shed Harry felt revitalized once more. 

He reached out with his other hand to stroke the phoenix’s back. It looked up at him, joy replacing its sorrow. Harry held its gaze, and though he might have imagined it, he swore he could hear it speaking to him.

“Fawkes.” was all it said.

“Is that your name? Fawkes?” Harry asked, petting the majestic bird under its chin. 

Fawkes, as Harry assumed was his name now, chirped happily in response. Harry knew Fawkes probably belonged to Dumbledore, at least, that’s what Tom made it seem like. 

“Where’s the Headmaster?” Harry asked, looking over at the still unconscious Ginny.

Fawkes gave a heartfelt cry to the youngest Weasley and abruptly soared in the air. He glanced back down at Harry and gave a reassuring look. Harry thought he might be going to get the Headmaster, but to his horror, Fawkes burst into flames. Harry stood slack jawed as the phoenix melted to ash, leaving behind nothing but a few feathers.

Harry decided he didn’t have time to deal with the shock of that, using his newfound energy to scramble to Ginny. She barely breathed underneath whatever spell Tom had her under. Harry cursed under his breath. He scooped up the barely-smaller girl gently, hugging her close. 

“I’m going to get you out of here Ginny, I promise.” He struggled through the passage, having to stop many times on his way to the door. Finally, he could see the pile of rubble that blocked him from the entrance. He heard rushing footsteps on the other side, and called out.

“Hey! Who’s over there? Is that you, Nev?!”

“Yes! I have the Headmaster!”

“Harry!” Came the startled shout of Albus Dumbledore. “Harry, stay right where you are, I’m coming to get you!”

Just then, the massive pile of rubble vanished into thin air. A very disheveled Dumbledore stood on the other side, wand still raised apprehensively. Harry sighed in relief.

“Headmaster, Ginny needs help. She’s asleep from some kind of spell, can you help her?” Harry begged, rushing up to him with the unconscious girl. 

“Yes Harry. We need to get you both out of here.” Dumbledore cast a levitating charm on Ginny, having her be carried magically. 

Harry walked out of the passage, trying to stay awake. His whole body was exhausted and despite Fawkes healing his arm, his tears didn’t cover every injury. He got to the slide and wondered how easy it would be for them to clamber out of there.

Neville sighed. “It’s a rough climb. Wish you could like, turn it into stairs or something…”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe I can.” 

He hissed the word “Stairs”. Surprisingly, the slide morphed instantly, allowing them to walk up easily.

Dumbledore patted him on the head. “Well done, Harry. Well done.”

Harry managed to walk all the way to the Hospital Wing before promptly collapsing into the cot next to Hermione.

–

The next time Harry was awake, he almost immediately wanted to be unconscious again. People surrounded him on all sides. His mother was hugging him tightly, Nick was beside her, equally as distraught. On his other side, Everette prevented Sam from joining the chaos, knowing she would either strangle Harry or cry all over him…or both. Ron and Neville were at the foot of his bed, looking at him with worried eyes. Dumbledore stood nearby with Snape and Professor McGonagall, observing.

Eventually, after his mother had calmed down from sobbing all over him, she commenced the lecture of all lectures. Chastising the twelve-year-old to no end. Harry was glassy-eyed and unresponsive by the end of it, wishing to be anywhere but here. Elise soon finished her tirade and excused herself for a while, planning to calm down elsewhere.

Harry loved his mother, he really really did, but to say he was grateful she’d left for a minute was an understatement. Ron and Neville also left soon after, promising to bring him snacks soon. Sam crushed him almost as hard as his mother had with a hug. 

“You stupid, reckless, impudent little shit-” She muttered, grabbing his ear tightly and tugging on it. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear?”

Harry frowned. “If someone is in danger and I can help, I’m going to.” He said it like it was a fact of life, an indisputable truth.

Samantha’s eyes bore into his, barely containing the fiery rage she was struggling not to direct at the insane second year. “Honestly…”

Everette let her stalk away, staying seated next to Harry. “She’ll be alright, she’s just worried about you.” 

“I know…” Harry sighed.

“She is proud of you, y’know?” He smiled. “Everybody is. We’re just all a little disturbed that a young kid had to handle all of that himself. No matter how strong you may be Harry, you shouldn’t be forced to fix everyone else’s problems or go out of your way to save people when you can barely save yourself.”

Harry listened to the older boy intently, deciding Everette was much wiser than he perhaps gave him credit for. “I know. It’s not like I really wanted to take it on by myself, but I couldn’t leave Ginny in there alone.”

“And for that, we are truly, truly grateful.” A third voice joined their conversation as Arthur Weasley stepped behind the curtain that separated Harry and Hermione from the rest of the Wing. “Thank you, Harry. You saved my daughter when no one else could. I don’t even know how to properly repay you.”

“Don’t worry about me, Mr. Weasley. It’s Ginny you should be worried about. Tom could only take over her mind because her insecurities let him. You should be comforting her and figuring out what’s making her so vulnerable at school.” Harry’s tone was edgier than he meant it to be, it almost sounded accusatory. 

“I didn’t realize…” Arthur looked genuinely taken aback. “Thank you Harry, for telling me. I will make this right.”

He rushed back over to his daughter then, who was suffering the same fate to her mother as Harry had earlier.

Everette stood, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Alright, I’m going to go rein in my pet dragon–Oops, did I say dragon? I meant best friend” He smiled as Harry began laughing lightly. “Honestly though, she was practically spitting fire earlier, I swear smoke was coming out of her ears and nose.” He shook his head in mock despair.

“She’s truly terrifying…” Harry joined in on the joke. “Are you sure it’s safe to go find her? Perhaps you should run while you still can…”

Everette chuckled. “It might be wiser to run, but I cannot help the burning desire I feel for her, now can I? I simply must seek out my beloved beast.” He put a hand to his heart and wiped away an imaginary tear.

Harry grimaced. “Ew, gross. Go away, I don’t wanna hear you talk all sappy about my sister.”

“But Harry, I must tell everyone of my love for her, lest she decide to sacrifice me for her next meal. Though…I might be inclined to let her–”

Harry cut him off by mashing his hand over his ears and shaking his head violently. “Nope nope nope. Go away, I don’t wanna listen to this!” 

“Alright alright, I’m only teasing.” He laughed. “See you later, bud.”

They could swear they weren’t together all they wanted. Harry didn’t believe it for a second. His sister might not be the smartest witch of her age, but she certainly wasn’t stupid. Could she really not see that her best friend was utterly, hopelessly, ridiculously in love with her?

—

Within the day Harry was back to his usual self, save for having his best friend back, he was right as rain. He went to his remaining classes as usual, trying his best to dodge attention surrounding his defeat of the basilisk. Of course, no one knew what happened. Just that Harry Potter disappeared for a few hours and came back with a nearly dead Ginny claiming he helped her escape something. He was very private about this whole affair, as Dumbledore and his mother equally advised him to be.

It was exactly one month before the end of term that the Mandrakes were ready. Harry rejoiced with the rest of his classmates, finally able to see and talk to their previously petrified friends. Snape and Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly to brew and administer the potions to the petrified victims, and Dumbledore celebrated their return with a special dinner feast. 

“She’ll be here any minute, bud.” Everette ruffled his hair.

“You can see her first, but remember to let the rest of us see our girl…” Sam grinned.

“Right, sure…” Harry wasn’t really listening, watching the door with such an intense stare he was shocked he hadn’t burned a hole through it by now.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the doors opened. In walked all of the basilisk’s victims, freshly pampered and ready to pick up where they left off. Hermione’s eyes searched for Harry’s in the crowd. Harry had already found her, rushing past the rest of the students with so much speed they hardly realized he was there.

Hermione opened her arms, welcoming the bone-crushing hug she knew was coming. Oh how she’d missed him. Though she wasn’t sure if she’d ever admit it, she could hear everything that happened while she was petrified. She remembered all the time Harry had spent with her, talking about his day, about how much he missed her, and of course, how much he despised Lockhart. She breathed in his familiar scent, a mix of that woodsy outdoor smell and the lingering hint of ink and parchment from being in class all day.

“Hermione…” She heard him whisper into her hair.

“I’m here, Harry. I’m back.” She reached around, resting her hands around his shoulders. 

She gently pushed him back, letting their eyes finally meet after all this time. Harry swore he saw sparks fly in her deep brown ones. He looked away quickly, glancing back at their waiting friends.

Everette stood behind a barely-held-together Sam, grinning mischievously. Ron smiled at Hermione, despite their tendency to bicker over schoolwork, he was happy to see her safe. Neville looked overjoyed, fighting to give Harry time with their beloved bookworm.

Harry extricated himself from Hermione long enough to grab Ginny in a tight hug. Though she hadn’t been petrified herself, it was safe to say she’d probably suffered a great deal more. He led both girls back to the table.

Sam rushed her favourite second-year Gryffindor with enough force to topple them both over. Luckily, Hermione’s hugs bore the same vigor, so they collided with equal strength. Everette patted both newly returned Gryffindor girls on the head, offering a smile. Neville gave Hermione a quick hug before launching into stories of what she’d missed. 

Harry glanced over to Ginny, who was now surrounded by all of her older brothers. Percy was already lecturing her, the twins had one hand around both her sides, shielding her from Percy as best they could while teasing her about the incident. Ron offered an awkward hug before checking her over and determining she was, in fact, alright. He gave a swift nod and turned to Harry with his ears already tinged pink.

“Thanks, mate. For saving her.” He said quietly. “I should’ve seen the signs, should’ve helped sooner.”

Harry smiled. “You did help, you stuck with Neville and I almost all the way through.”

Ron’s embarrassed air multiplied tenfold. “Hey, those spiders were huge, don't act like you both weren’t as disturbed as I was…”

Harry nodded. “Oh, for sure. Like I said, you almost made it. Hopefully our next adventure won’t involve any spiders, yea?”

Ron shuddered. “Yea.”

—

The end of term came and went, Hermione and Harry were once again fighting tooth and nail for the top spot of their class, ever eager to show each other up academically.

They sat in their car on the train with their ever-growing circle of friends, comparing marks and discussing finals. 

Hermione, of course, had already started her summer homework. Harry decided he wasn’t that crazy, and resolved to work on it after giving himself a week off. This school year was quite insane after all, he felt he deserved a break.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXI~

~Summer of Mysteries~

“Harry James!” His mother’s voice echoed through the house with frightening intensity.

His shoulders tensed as he slowly walked into view.

“If you don’t put your sister down right now, so help me–” Elise’s eyes cut through him with such sharpness he could have sworn he felt a physical wound. 

“Alright…alright…” He lowered his wand, effectively lowering the thrashing figure that was his older sister on the ground.

“I’m going to hex you into next week, Harry James. You just wait, when I–”

“Samantha!” Elise chastised.

“I’d like to see you try. You haven’t beat me in a duel since I was a firstie.” Harry smirked.

“Harry!” Elise threw her arms up between the two of them, an exasperated groan filling the silence that followed. “Honestly, you both need to separate, I’m tired of this fighting.”

Sam sighed. “We’re just having a bit of fun mum, nothing serious.”

“Yea I was just having fun throttling her mum, it’s okay I’ll go easy on her next time.”

As the last word left his mouth Sam shot three hexes and one Stupefy, rendering him frozen to deal with the torture that was her tickling jinx.

Elise shot Sam a glare so cold, the very temperature of the room changed. She released the spells begrudgingly, standing guiltily next to her younger brother. Harry was about to retaliate when Sam elbowed him in the ribs, pointing at their mother. Her curly hair was sparking wildly around her head, her anger extremely evident.

Harry swallowed, then sucked in a quick breath. “Well–um, I’m going outside.”

“Me too!” Sam followed him as he practically ran out the door.

As they left, Elise heard them muttering about her being “No fun” and “In a mood”. She started after them, intent on grounding them both for their audacity.

Nick grabbed his wife gently, stopping her from rushing off after their children. 

“Did you hear what they just said to me?” She whirled around, shocked.

“You know they aren’t trying to be disrespectful, they're only having fun. Let them, my love.” He pinched her cheek lightly. “Besides, I need help in the kitchen. You know I’m rubbish at baking…”

Elise let herself be led into the kitchen, sighing. “I just wish they’d pick safer games…”

“Harry and the word “safe” do not belong in the same sentence together, you know how that boy is.” He chuckled. “Honestly, it might be best to lock him up forever if we really want him to be safest.”

Just then, a loud crash followed by a quick “We’re okay!” shook the house.

Elise seethed while Nick bit back a laugh. 

“The cookies darling, the cookies.” Nick gestured towards the counter. “Let’s get to work.”

–

Harry’s birthday marked the final month before term started, but this year they had waited to host his party till the third week of August, to account for certain guests and their travel plans. Of course, they were having a joint party for their other July 31st kiddo. Neville was ecstatic about celebrating their birthdays together.

Hermione’s family had arrived from their trip to France just two days ago, and Neville and his grandmother had been away on a business trip somewhere top secret. Harry was impatiently waiting for his friends to arrive this afternoon, after not having seen them in so long, he felt the weight of their absence hit him terribly.

He was lounging around the living room in front of a half-finished game of chess with Sam. They’d finished all their homework and their training for the day. Freshly showered and in his nicest party outfit, he felt restless and impatient. Just then, he heard the sound of a car pulling into the drive.

“Hey looks like Hermione’s–”

Harry sped off before she could finish, eager to see Hermione once more. Neville too, of course—but Hermione. He raced down the steps two at a time, hurtling towards his best friends with alarming speed. Neville intercepted him first, welcoming the bear hug with ease.

“Harry! Happy birthday, mate.” Neville ruffled his hair playfully, enjoying the few inches in height over Harry he’d gained during the summer.

“You too! Oh, and don’t get too cocky, I’ll be as tall as you soon…” Harry swatted his hand away playfully, searching for the third member of their trio.

Just then, he was attacked by his first and best friend, her curly brown hair blocking his vision as she flung herself at him. 

“Happy birthday, Harry James!” She reached out and yanked Neville into their hug too, squeezing them both with inexplicable strength for her small frame. “You too, Neville. I have perfect presents for you both!”

She rushed backward, clapping excitedly. Her parents stood nearby, holding several boxes. Mr. Granger patted them both on the back, and Mrs. Granger offered hugs. Neville’s gran had already found Elise inside, talking in hushed voices near the kitchen. Harry smiled, all that was left was—

A knock on the still slightly open door sounded. Harry looked up with a grin. Their fourth-year Hufflepuff friend stood in a cream button up and navy pants. Harry had invited Everette for one reason and one reason only. Well, he supposed that wasn’t exactly true, he did enjoy his company at least, but there was a much more pressing reason he had come.

Harry glanced back at his sister standing in the living room in her navy dress and boots. She’d done her hair and makeup for the day, and Harry knew why. You see, he’d been teasing her about her obvious crush on him for months now, and had even joked about inviting him today. Only, what Sam didn’t know, is that he actually had. So there stood Everette in the door, his eyes scanning for Sam immediately, and there stood Sam, shifting nervously at the thought of him showing up.

Harry smirked, pulling Hermione back toward him and gesturing at the two older students.

“Show time.” He whispered.

Hermione laughed. “Oh, this should be interesting.”

Harry showed Everette in and glanced around before closing the front door. 

“Did your uncle drop you?”

“Yep, apparated me in and left right after. He’ll pick me up later.” He was looking at the entrance of the house, admiring the decorations and such when he saw her.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry could have sworn he saw their magic literally reach for the other. He fought off a gag as Everette cleared his throat and walked over to her, wrapping her in a tentative side hug.

“Hey, we match.” He chuckled, pointing between her dress and his pants.

“We do.” Sam glared at Harry, suddenly understanding his apparent prank. 

Hermione and Harry high-fived behind their backs, keeping the image of perfect innocence on the outside.

“She’s gonna be so mad at us later.” Hermione giggled.

“Not if Everette gets a grip and asks her out finally.” He muttered.

“True, but what’s the likelihood of that happening tonight. I’d say not likely at all, wouldn’t you?”

They were walking to the kitchen now, leaving the fourth years to converse with each other in the living room.

“Probably not tonight, no. But soon–this year hopefully.” Harry sighed. “I mean at this point it’s just sort of embarrassing to watch you know.”

“Right.” Hermione chuckled.

The rest of the party went by smoothly. Neville and Harry blew out candles and opened presents. Hermione had gifted them both sets of specialty crafted wand holsters, made in France. They attached to your forearm and became invisible to the naked eye, not even showing an outline under fabric. The wand could be called into your hand simply by flicking your wrist outward with the simple thought of drawing it. After all, magic follows intention, so you wouldn’t be in any danger of accidentally flinging your wand out at inappropriate times. 

Harry got new clothes, a fresh set of fancy school supplies, and some new quidditch decorations for his room. Neville received a couple of rare seed packets from various foreign countries, as well as some new gardening tools. The boy did love his plants.

Soon, the kids had all snuggled under blankets in the living room to play videogames. Harry beat Neville in almost every round of every game they played, but Hermione took the lead overall. The adults had all hung back in the kitchen for drinks and stories. Hermione was now participating in her personal favourite event of the night.

Many probably wouldn’t believe her if she told them she was a sucker for romance. Whether it be in fiction or real life, she always wanted to hear a love story. So, she was currently spending her time hiding near the backdoor while Sam and Everette talked alone on the back porch.

Nick had made a big show of getting to know Everette, just as in-tune to the obvious pining that was happening to both parties involved as his son. Elise loved him instantly, thinking he reminded her of Nick in many ways—a good thing to look for in a man, as far as she was concerned.

Hermione pulled her knees close to her chest and listened while Everette talked about his summer vacation so far. She could tell Sam was hooked on every word, and was genuinely curious about him and his plans. He talked about a house-elf mishap that happened while his uncle was away, something about laundry and his clothes not fitting right for a week. Sam shared a story of one of her and Harry's many escapades they’d gone on together, and by the end of it, they were both laughing and smiling so brightly Hermione thought they might have been shining.

“Ugh, what I would have given to see that.” Everette sighed.

“It was pretty awesome, I wish you had been there.” Sam laughed.

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Hermione tried to remain as quiet as possible, wondering if they'd sensed her spying. When she was confident they hadn’t, she looked through the door again. Sam was leaning on Everette's shoulder, and his fingers were brushing through her hair absentmindedly. She stifled a scream. They were literally watching the stars together, how romantic was that?

She rushed to tell the boys, who–much to her dismay–could not care less. Harry found it gross, which she figured stemmed mostly from it being his sister and him not being able to handle the thought that his sister might have a boyfriend very soon. Neville just thought the whole charade was pointless and childish, claiming they shouldn’t meddle in other people’s love lives.

Hermione sighed. She would just have to wait till she got back to Hogwarts. She knew Ginny and Olivia would absolutely love this.

The party ended shortly after that, and the Woods’ family sent everyone off with hugs and promises to see each other soon.

–

A week and a half before Harry was supposed to head to the station to catch the express, strange things began happening. Inexplicable, almost eerie situations followed him no matter where he went. First, there was the news article that had his mother shaking uncontrollably and jumping at the slightest noise. 

Then, on the days he played outside or walked to the park, he discovered he was being watched by what appeared to be a stray dog. He didn’t think much of it, though it was admittedly very strange. It didn’t seem dangerous, although its eyes were so focused, so understanding. It was a little unsettling.

Then, it was being approached at the park by the same huge black dog. Harry played fetch with it, and animatedly told his mother about it when he returned. Her response was to ban him from leaving the house. There were discussions of not sending him back to Hogwarts, of hiding him away.

Harry was absolutely terrified, and so utterly confused. Why was she so on edge? What was the story with the dog? It was now camping around the street and the backyard expectantly, but Harry didn’t dare tell his mother about that. He thought she might keel over if she knew. 

He just couldn't wrap his head around the whole situation. He was literally being trained to kill the most powerful dark wizard of all time and his parents were worried about a dog? What was all that training for then? Fun?

Finally, three days before he was set to leave, he found it. The news article that started it all. The Daily Prophet sat near the bin, obviously having fallen out by accident. Harry saw it, a large moving picture of a man dressed in the Azkaban uniform, shackled and holding a sign. Sirius Black. Apparently, he had recently escaped his cell and was now missing. Harry shuddered as he read the article in full. Sirius Black, alleged mass murderer, was roaming the streets, free.

Harry decided he would do some research on the apparently notorious Death Eater, and set out to find his best resource. It took quite a bit of effort to sneak out of his house safely and get all the way to Hermione’s without anyone knowing, but he managed. 

“Hermione!” He whisper-shouted from the driveway.

Hermione was in the garage rummaging through an old box, probably full of books. She glanced up, and squinted. There, at the end of her driveway was a floating hand, waving her over. She hurried to him.

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over and around both of them, immediately explaining why he was there.

“Mum doesn’t know I'm here, and I’m not supposed to leave the house right now.” He pulled out the Daily Prophet, handing it to her. “Do you know who this is?”

“Sirius Black? I’m not sure, but there must be other articles we could access from when he was convicted.” She gave him a strange look. “Why do you want to know about this?”

“Because my mother has gone absolutely batty over this guy, and I want to know what he has to do with me. She wouldn’t be acting like this if there wasn’t something deeper to it.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll look into it.”

There was a moment of silence, then she smiled. “Want to go get some ice cream? My parents are out shopping in London, they won’t be home for a few hours.”

Harry considered. It was early in the afternoon still, and he was certain his parents would not be home from their own errands till much past dinner. Sam was out with some old friends for the day too, not expected to be home at all. He sighed.

“Alright, but let’s be quick, just in case.”

Hermione ducked out of the cloak, and started dragging him towards the nearby park they frequented; it had several small food stands set up year round. “I’ve been dying to have their strawberry one lately, it’s seriously the best ice cream I've ever had.”

Harry shook his head, trying to shove the cloak back into his backpack with his one free hand. “Chocolate is the best flavor, no contest.”

“Whatever. You’ve never even tried a different flavor, so how would you know?” Hermione huffed.

“Wait, don’t your parents not let you have any ice cream during the week?”

Hermione said nothing, but cut him a look sharp enough to silence him.

–

Sitting on a small rock in a secluded part of the park, Hermione sighed contently at her ice cream cone. Harry had mostly scarfed his down by now, and was lying across the rock, arms and legs outstretched. He’d grown over the summer, Hermione realized. Partially because he was now slightly taller than her when they stood side by side, but mostly because his taller body was currently crushing her legs. She brought a fist down on the underside of his knee, his reflex making his leg kick out strangely in response. 

“Get off me, you’re heavy.” She said between bites of waffle cone.

“No thanks, I’m comfortable where I am.” He brought his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, a triumphant smirk evident on his face.

Hermione shoved him off, watching him hit the ground with a satisfying “ouch”.

She wiped her hands on her jeans, finally finished with her treat. As she leaned over to help Harry up, she couldn’t help but shiver, goosebumps flaring up her arms and legs.

“Why is it so cold…?” She retracted her hands, staring at them strangely.

“Isn’t it like…twenty-one out today?” Harry let out his own shiver, suddenly wishing he was wearing long sleeves.

“I don’t know…I don’t like this feeling.” Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Harry knew what she meant. The once bright afternoon felt dreary, almost dismal. He glanced around nervously, catching sight of something in the bushes nearby.

“Merlin’s beard…” He muttered.

“What? What is it?” Hermione whipped around to look at what he was seeing.

The black dog that had been following him around had returned, but its once friendly demeanor was no more. It was lowered to the ground, haunches raised and teeth bared. Its dark eyes were trained on them.

Harry reached for Hermione's arm, pulling her behind him. In the same motion, he called his wand to his hand, his eyes never leaving the strange dog. Hermione pulled out her own wand tentatively, clutching Harry’s shirt with the other.

“Something isn’t right…” She whispered.

“It’s not looking at us.” Harry muttered. “It’s looking just past us.”

Hermione turned around, a small gasp escaping as she discovered what the dog was growling at. 

“Harry…” She breathed.

He turned too, feeling all the dread rush to his body at once as he saw them–two dementors, dark and menacing. They were advancing slowly, trained on the two of them. Harry yanked Hermione back, running as fast as he could while keeping his hold on her hand. The dementors sped up as well, getting so close to Hermione, she could feel its icy skin on her shoulder.

“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, knocking both dementors back with the bright red spell.

It wasn’t enough to stop them though, and they continued their assault as soon as they recovered.

“Hermione, what’s a spell that’s effective on them?!” Harry yelled as they weaved through trees and rocks.

“I..I don’t know I can’t remember!” The panic in her voice was real. “We definitely haven’t learned any yet, but I can’t recall one even from my studies!”

Harry swore, narrowly avoiding a tree in his frenzy. Just as the dementors were nearly on top of them again, the black dog leapt from behind them, snagging one of the dementors and tearing it to shreds with his teeth. 

Harry threw another Stupefy and they finally broke through the tree line. They rushed back to Hermione’s house, not stopping until they were huddled together behind the blinds of her window upstairs.

There was no sign of the dementors anymore, nor the mysterious canine. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, still clutching onto Hermione’s hand.

“Dementors…here?” Hermione had begun her ramble. “They guard Azkaban, why on earth would they be here of all places? And–what’s even more suspicious–why did they seem to be targeting us?”

Harry sat on her bed now, lost in thought.

Just then, through the silence, a letter burst into existence right in front of Harry's face. It morphed into something resembling a howler, then spat a message at him.

“Dear Mr. Potter, the ministry has received intelligence but at 4:23 this afternoon you performed the Stupefy charm twice in the presence of muggles. As a clear violation of the decree for the reasonable restriction of underage sorcery you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk.”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXII~

~Expulsion, Trial, and Aftermath~

Harry and Hermione gaped.

“Expelled?!” She shrieked, reaching for the letter as it became ordinary once more.

It had the same message inside. She must have read it over 100 times before she looked at him again.

He stared blankly at nothing in particular, mouth still hanging open slightly.

“No, no you can’t be expelled. This has to be a mistake on the ministry’s part!” Hermione ran a stressed hand through her hair.

Just then, a second letter burst into existence.

“Dear Ms. Granger, the ministry has received intelligence but at 4:23 this afternoon you participated in a magical exchange in the presence of muggles. As a clear violation of the decree for the reasonable restriction of underage sorcery you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk.”

The silence that followed that letter was deafening. Harry was shaken from his shock only when he watched her shoulders shake from her sobs.

“Expelled. How will I ever escape this on my record?” She sunk to the floor, defeated.

Harry joined her on the floor, wrapping his arms around her reassuringly.

“They’re going to strip me of my magic, Harry. I’ll never get to practice with you and Neville anymore.” She whispered through tears.

“Absolutely not. We’re going to fix this. All we have to do is demand the ministry reconsider their punishment. Once we explain what happened–that it was all self-defense–they have to let us go back to school.” He stood then. “I have to go tell mum, she’ll help us. She’ll be right pissed, but she’ll help us.”

“I’m coming with you, I have to know if she thinks we can fix this.”

They left a note on the kitchen counter explaining their whereabouts in case the Grangers arrived before they returned, then hurried over to Harry’s house.

–

Elise stood above her two favourite teenagers, bewildered and angry.

“Let me get this straight, young man–you snuck out of my house to go see Hermione.” She turned to the girl in question. “And you, young lady, decided to encourage him to not only continue his escapade, but join him as well?” They shrunk into the couch cushions ever so slightly. “And after ALL of that, you’re saying you were attacked by dementors? Here? AND–you were expelled!?”

Harry cleared his throat, preparing to apologize profusely.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!” His mother cut him off, eyes wide in utter confusion.

“I’m sorry Elise I shouldn’t have told him to stay out!” Hermione felt tears welling in her eyes once more. “But you have to help us–I can’t get expelled! And I can’t go back to school without Harry!”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Mum, you’ve got to help us! We need to tell the ministry about the dementors, what if they go after muggles?”

Elise looked between the two distraught teenagers and felt her own eyes well up from the stress. She grabbed them both in a tight hug. 

“You are both in so much trouble, you understand?” They nodded into her embrace. “But I'm just glad you’re safe. Don’t ever do any of that again.” She stood, wiping her eyes wearily. “I’m going to call your father.”

Harry leaned back into the couch and let out a low breath as soon as she was in the kitchen. “I thought she was gonna hex us both.”

“Honestly, deserved.” Hermione sighed. 

–

That night, the Grangers made camp in the guest room of the Wood’s residence. Harry and Hermione were grilled what felt like several hundred times before all of the adults set out on forming a plan to fix the issue. They took it with grace, knowing full well they deserved that reaction.

Nick drafted a request for an appeal on their expulsions, even stating they were all willing to have a trial to prove their innocence.

A letter was returned almost instantly. Mafalda Hopkirk was feeling particularly generous, it seemed. They would be appearing in front of the Wizengamont in two days, a literal day before they were expected to be on the express.

The next two days were spent hiding the two expelled teens in the house, with the adults still wary of dementors, and Elise particularly wary of the strange black dog. They coached the kids on how to behave, and even bought them specially tailored outfits to make a good impression.

So it was here, in the Ministry on August 31st, that Harry found himself sitting nervously outside his court room in a pair of dark red slacks and a black button up. He pulled the matching red vest down for what felt like the hundredth time, annoyed by the restriction.

Hermione sat beside him, poised and professional in a black pencil skirt and cream top. Her black flats tapped absentmindedly on the marble floor as she ran over her statement in her head.

As soon as they were called in, Harry felt a wave of dread wash over him. Hermione squeezed his hand, giving him a strained smile, and they made their way inside. 

Sam had helped them get ready, and while Harry could tell she wanted to poke fun at them a little bit, she remained extremely composed considering the situation. Harry knew she would be watching with his parents and wasn’t ready for the chastising that was sure to come from her and his friends at school later, but otherwise he felt fine.

The first thing Harry noticed was that all eyes were trained on him as if he was on trial for murder, rather than underage magic. He could see his and Hermione's families up at the top of the atrium, watching anxiously. He was sure the Grangers were more than overwhelmed, having been thrust into this strictly-magical environment with little to no warning. Minister Cornelius Fudge was presiding over this trial. Hermione thought that this was all rather absurd–an entire ministry official trial under the Wizengamont, for an underage magic case? It was strange no matter how you thought about it.

“Mister Potter, please make your way to the centre of the room; we will consider your case of expulsion first.” Fudge commanded, pointing to a wooden chair in the middle of the floor.

Harry followed instructions, looking up and making calm–or as calm as he could manage–eye contact with Minister Fudge. 

“Disciplinary hearing of the 29th of August into offenses committed by Harry James Potter, resident at number 12 Ridley Oak, Hampstead Garden Suburb, London. Interrogator Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic.” He spoke to the room, and quills began writing, keeping a log of everything that was said. “Mister Potter, you have been charged with the crime of performing underage magic in the presence of muggles. Did you knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of your actions produce not one but two Stupefy Charms in the presence of Muggles?”

It was phrased as a question, but Harry could tell Fudge wanted nothing more than for him to plead guilty. He was unsure of what exactly pushed Fudge to this level of animosity towards him. He had never met the man, what did he know of him?

Harry cleared his throat. “Yes Minister. I performed the Stupefy Charm twice in order to ward off the Dementors that were attacking Hermione Granger and myself. We were unsure of what spells might be effective, but the Dementors were hostile and intent on harming us, so we were left with no other choice. There were no muggles in the direct vicinity, as we were in a rather secluded area of a park, behind several feet of trees and brush.”

The room exploded in whispers and murmurs. After all, the ministry controlled the Dementors, what would they have been doing in Hampstead of all places?

Minister Fudge looked conflicted. There was no reason not to believe the boy, he looked as though he really had seen one, but this was unexpected.

A short but shrill laugh cut through the whispers like a knife, Harry found it almost disturbing.

“Minister, if I may…?” A woman in an audaciously pink skirt and blazer set, stood and smiled at the man. 

Fudge nodded, and she clicked her tongue three times slowly. “Lying is not tolerated in this place, Mister Potter, and you will do well to remember that.” She sneered down at him. “You honestly expect us to believe a Dementor attacked you in your hometown? Nowhere near where the Dementors are stationed?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but the woman beat him to it. “I think someone interrupted your little romantic rendezvous in this “Secluded area” you mentioned, and you took matters into your own hands.”

Elise stood so abruptly her purse fell from her lap and clattered to the ground, spilling her things everywhere. Nick grabbed her hand, pulling her back down, but he was also seething. Sam was glaring at the woman so hard Harry was sure she would combust. The Grangers looked so appalled, Hermione thought her mother might actually be sick. Harry’s face flushed red, and his mouth hung open, utterly aghast.

“You– you think Hermione and I were– what?” Harry had lost his composure, and therefore his eloquence.

The woman, who Harry now noticed looked oddly toad-like, shook her head disapprovingly. “I have seen so many cases of young witches and wizards throwing their life away for the sake of teenage romance, terribly sad really.”

The room had of course descended into chaos once more, as ministry officials wondered if the boy who lived was truly spending his time doing something as sleazy as their colleague suggested. Harry sputtered on the stand, lost on what to do.

Hermione stood then, resolve hardened on her face. “Minister Fudge, may I please come to the stand to not only act as witness to Mister Potter, but to defend myself as well?”

Fudge motioned her over. Hermione stood next to Harry, eyes sharp and calculating. He swallowed, if he knew anything about this look, they were all in for it.

“What are my charges, Minister?” She prompted.

“This is the disciplinary hearing of the 29th of August into offenses committed by Hermione Jean Granger, resident at number 8 Heathgate, Hampstead Garden Suburb, London. Interrogator Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic.” He began again. “Did you knowingly and-”

“No.” Hermione interrupted him. “I did not knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of my actions participate in a magical exchange in the presence of Muggles. That is an extremely vague charge by the way Minister, who’s to say I had any idea someone was going to perform magic around me? Am I meant to be punished for someone else’s mistake? Intriguing, truly.” The crowd murmured nervously. “As for what Senior Undersecretary Umbridge is accusing me of, not only is it an entirely unprofessional and nonsensical claim, it can also be entirely disproven if you would simply look into the Azkaban reports for any dementors that were either sent away from the prison, or miraculously left by their own accord.”

There was an accusation of her own hidden in her words. Why were dementors in muggle London? Hermione only had one guess. Someone was targeting Harry. Umbridge had the decency to look slightly awkward as the room was once again full of chatter.

Minister Fudge shifted the papers in front of him awkwardly. “Well, of course we could go through the trouble of checking the records, but you see-”

“Minister, pardon my interruption, but “go through the trouble”? You mean attempt to salvage two successful student’s careers you have nearly ruined? Harry Potter and I have been falsely punished for something that is not our fault. Were we supposed to succumb to the Dementors, rather than defend ourselves? Interesting considering the whole reason we go to school is to prepare us for things like this out in the real world.” Hermione stood with her arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised.

Harry would never tell her, but he couldn’t help but notice she looked exactly like her mother at this moment. The parents had noticed it too though. Dan Granger held back a laugh as his wife covered her eyes in a mix of pride and embarrassment. Elise and Nick smiled mischievously, Hermione was overpowering a court of grown witches and wizards beautifully. Sam fought the urge to applaud.

Fudge sighed, waving his hand to signal a ministry employee to go search for the records. Harry thought Madam Umbridge–seriously, what kind of a name was that anyway?–looked sufficiently silenced. The tips of her ears matched her pink coat, and she had sat down in a huff, apparently unimpressed. 

Pretty soon, that same ministry employee came scrambling back into the room, rushing over to Minister Fudge to whisper frantically in his ear. Fudge looked shocked, then grimaced.

“Mister Potter, Miss Granger…” Fudge shook his head. “All charges will be cleared, and your expulsion will be rescinded. Go get ready for your third year…” Fudge dismissed the atrium in a hurry, and Harry and Hermione were promptly rushed to the entrance of the ministry where their parents awaited.

“Hermione, darling, you did splendidly.” Elise wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Absolutely.” Her mother agreed, resting a steady hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“You tried.” Nick ruffled Harry’s hair playfully. “Just kidding little man, you held your ground well. This whole thing was pitted against you from the start.”

Harry smiled. “Yea, lucky for us, we had an unstoppable defense on our side.”

“I’ll say, I guess we all know who to call if we need a lawyer.” Sam grabbed the younger girl by the shoulder and patted her on the head.

Hermione flushed at his praise, smiling sheepishly in return. “I just said what needed to be said…”

Mr. Granger let out a hearty chuckle. “I say we celebrate our teenager’s legal victory with some dinner—on me. What do you say?” He looked between Elise and Nick.

“I couldn’t agree more, Dan.” Nick nodded. “Where to?”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXIII~

~The Train~

Dinner had been a joyful affair. Harry and Hermione were treated to dessert and an extra soda each for their troubles. Soon, Harry was standing at the station, still full and still riding the high from the day before.

Neville joined them in their compartment as soon as he arrived, and Luna and Ginny quickly found their way to them as well. As Hermione told them of their past week’s adventures, Harry couldn’t shake this strange, sick feeling in his stomach.

“I’ll be right back…” He announced, standing up and making his way to the bathroom car.

Halfway there, the sickness overwhelmed him, followed by that familiar dread and bone-chilling cold. He stumbled into what he assumed was an empty compartment, and collapsed on the bench. He vaguely noticed the window become covered in frost, before seeing another dementor reach out and try to kiss him once more. He grit his teeth, fighting the urge to faint, when he heard someone bellow a powerful spell.

“Expecto Patronum!” The man shouted, and Harry’s vision was assaulted with bright light.

When he stirred, he was propped against an anxious looking Hermione, who was chewing on a chunk of chocolate. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead immediately.

“He’s finally warmed up, and he doesn’t look so pale anymore.” She said, and Harry noticed she was talking to a man sitting across from them.

“Here, chocolate helps.” The man handed him a wrapped bar, taking a bite out of his own. “Nasty things, Dementors.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, eating his chocolate.

“Dementors have greater effects on those who have witnessed greater grief.” The man sighed. “You and I are similar this way, we must be more cautious.”

Harry swallowed the last piece of his chocolate and sat up straighter. “Who are you, sir? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Professor Lupin. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. And you are Harry Potter.” He gave a weak smile.

Harry decided to ignore how the man knew exactly who he was, perhaps it was still very obvious. “Can you teach me that spell, Professor? The one you used to ward off the Dementor? What was it again?”

“Expecto Patronum, the Patronus Charm.” Hermione answered automatically. “I actually had read about it before, but totally forgot. It’s a very complex spell, Harry, much too advanced for a third year.”

“Hermione, you and I both are on track skill-wise to be at least fifth years. Surely we can handle a slightly complex charm..?” Harry looked back at the man.

Lupin shook his head. “She’s right, Harry. For now, it’s best to do some theoretical studying on the topic. You can learn it with the rest of your classmates in fifth year.” He stood then, taking his briefcase and coat and moving out of the compartment. “I must go check on the rest of the students. See you in class.”

Harry frowned. “I wanted to learn a new spell today. He seemed mysterious and…interesting.”

“Mysterious is right.” Hermione tapped her chin. “I’ve been trying to figure out why in Merlin’s name a Professor would choose to ride on the express instead of apparating to the grounds…”

–

The rest of the train ride was relatively uneventful. Harry found people looking at him strangely as he moved his way through the cars, and he asked Hermione what that was about. 

“They’re all trying to figure out why you passed out earlier. Lots of them saw you stumbling around and then falling into the Professor’s compartment…” She answered, looking at him nervously.

Harry pressed his lips into a firm line, not knowing what to say. He was already embarrassed enough as it was, but on top of that, everyone seemed to have seen his episode.

They bumped into Ron halfway back to their friends.

“Uh…you alright, mate?” Ron looked uncomfortable. “Dementors mess with your head like crazy, be careful…”

Harry nodded. “I’m not entirely sure why I react so badly to them, but I’m alright now. Thanks.”

Ron offered a small smile, patting him on the shoulder as he walked past him. Hermione watched him go.

“He seems…oddly calm.” She muttered. 

Harry shrugged. “Maybe he matured over the summer.”

“No, no. Not that. He had a rat on his shoulder.” She was still watching him, noticing that the rat was staring right at them.

“Huh.” Harry blinked. “Maybe he got a new pet. Or maybe he always had one and we never knew?”

“Maybe, but rats aren’t allowed pets at school.” 

“Just leave him be, maybe it helps him.”

—

Sam had rushed Hermione as soon as they’d gotten off the train, not having found her while they were on it. She immediately checked them for any signs of pain after the Dementor scare. After she deemed them healthy, it was straight to bone-crushing hugs.

Everette ruffled Harry and Neville’s hair, asking them about the weeks since he’d seen them last. Sam and Hermione talked about the upcoming year gleefully.

At dinner, Dumbledore got up to make his usual speech. Only this time, something felt off.

Harry had noticed the energy of the castle seemed particularly dismal, but here he learned why. 

It all came back to Sirius Black. The ministry had posted Dementors around the castle to serve as protection against the apparent dangerous murderer they still couldn’t locate. Harry groaned inwardly. He just hoped he wouldn’t encounter anymore, he didn’t need another fainting spell on his record.

“Surely,” Hermione said that night in the common room. “Surely they’ll apprehend him before the month is out.”

Harry nodded absentmindedly. Surely they would, but…what if they didn’t?

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXIV~

~The Godfather~

Several things happened before the month of September was out. Hermione, for example, was gifted a brilliantly perceptive orange tabby cat. She excitedly explained to Harry how he was “actually half-kneazle” but he honestly thought it just sort-of looked like…well, a cat. 

Neville had admitted to harboring somewhat of a crush on Ginny Weasley, one he was frightfully embarrassed of. Meanwhile, Harry had not only been acing all of his assignments so far. He had almost caught up to Hermione when it came to study time. Or so he thought, except Hermione had developed a strange habit of disappearing for random stretches of time and reappearing just as randomly. Harry thought he must just be imagining her constant leaving or something, because no one else seemed to notice.

One thing that had not happened, was Sirius Black being apprehended by the ministry. Hermione’s confidence waned with each passing day, and soon the three Gryffindors were quietly tucked away in the library, discussing the strange situation.

“I just don’t get it Harry,” Neville shook his head over the newspaper clippings and old photos Hermione had gathered. “If this man is as insane and murderous as the ministry claims, why has he not made any public moves? We would have known if he was out on another killing spree.”

Harry frowned. “Look at the evidence Nev, I don’t know why he hasn’t struck yet, but don’t you think it’s only a matter of time?”

Hermione interjected then, thumbing through a book on Azkaban prisoners. “I’m afraid he might just be waiting for his prime target. Why risk getting caught before he completes his mission? More than anything, it’s Harry we need to keep safe and out of his sight.”

Neville sighed. “I don’t know Hermione, something’s not adding up…” 

Just then, Ginny hurried past their table, quaffle in one hand and a thick textbook in the other. Her long hair was tied back, and she’d clearly just been on the pitch, seeing as she was sporting her quidditch uniform's undershirt and pants. Neville watched her go.

Harry smirked, leaning toward the other boy till he hovered right beside his ear. “Ginny and Neville sitting in a tree-“

Neville reared back, startled by Harry’s proximity. “Shut it, Harry, she’ll hear you!” He clamped a hand over his mouth. 

Harry recited the rest of the rhyme in a sing-song voice through Neville fingers, laughing as the boy just went redder and redder.

Hermione scoffed. “Honestly, Harry. Leave the poor boy alone.”

Harry sat back in his original spot, much closer to her. “Ah-ah, ‘Mione. Our little Nev’s all grown up now, he’s in love. Address him properly, the boy’s a man now.” He shook his head disapprovingly.

Hermione glared at him from over her book. “You’re picking on him an awful lot lately. And being in love qualifies you as a man? What do you know about love and manliness, huh?” She rolled her eyes.

Harry pouted, maybe he was being a little hard on Neville. It was all good fun though, wasn’t it?

“I think Neville is very manly.” He lamented.

Neville let out a groan and gathered his things to go.

“Nev, come on I really do! It’s a compliment! Why are you leaving me?” Harry called after the introverted boy as he left.

Hermione fought back a laugh, it wasn’t funny. “Harry…honestly.”

—

Halloween was finally here, and Harry was prepared to have a bad day as usual. Neville was extremely grateful to have backup and witnesses for all the time he was spending with Ginny, quickly discovering he was pretty useless at flirting and anything of the like, but he was talking to her.

When Harry finished the last bite of his chicken, Hermione grabbed his arm from across the table, suddenly very serious. 

“Look.” She motioned over to the Headmaster.

Lupin and Snape had arrived moments ago, and they were now talking to the Headmaster with hushed voices and aggravated movements. 

Dumbledore stood then, his silver robe billowing as he stalked to the Gryffindor table.

“Harry, would you mind following Professor Lupin to my office after dinner?” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Harry felt the weight behind the seemingly light hearted question.

“Yes, Headmaster.” He nodded. 

Hermione glanced over at him, raising a brow. Harry just shook his head, he had no idea what was going on.

—

As promised, Harry made his way to the Headmaster’s office with Professor Lupin. Once they made it past the gargoyle and up the stairs, he could feel the tension of the room shift.

“Harry, good. Come sit.” The Headmaster motioned toward a plush armchair in front of his desk.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, his brow tight with worry.

“Do you know who this man is?” Dumbledore slid a copy of the daily prophet across his desk.

On the front page once again was Sirius Black. Screaming and shaking wildly in the moving picture. Harry frowned.

“I know that he’s a criminal who has recently escaped.” 

“This is true, but that man is a lot more important than that.” Dumbledore tapped his name. “Sirius Black, second son of the Ancient and Noble House Black—though he renounced that title in his youth. Cunning, loyal, and charming, he swept through the halls of Hogwarts, leaving a trail of laughter and success in his wake.”

Harry nodded along, curious as to why he needed to know this.

“But, most importantly to you, he is your godfather.” The Headmaster glanced up at him, knowing that was a heavy piece of information for the young boy, but he looked only mildly surprised.

“My…godfather?” Harry muttered.

“Yes, dear boy. He was James’s best friend, and closest ally. It surprised no one when your father chose him as your godfather.”

“Professor, if that man is as good as you say, why was he in Azkaban? And why had my mother not said anything about him to me if he was so important?” Harry was on the edge of his seat now, what could a man so great possibly have done to end up in the worst place imaginable?

The two older men shared a glance. Lupin stepped beside Harry, clearing his throat.

“Sirius was convicted of murder.” He said.

“Murder?” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Who did he murder? And why?”

Lupin grit his teeth, and Harry swore he saw the man’s eyes water before he turned away.

“The night that your parents died…Sirius was found on the street, twelve muggles dead by his wand, and one wizard too. He was the one who betrayed your parents, and he killed our friend, Peter Pettigrew.” Lupin stalked to the opposite side of the office, unable to meet Harry’s eyes any longer.

Guilt consumed the man. He knew Harry had grown up in a loving home, Dumbledore assured him of that. Still, he should have taken it upon himself to ensure his safety and wellbeing that night. With James, Lily, and Peter dead, and Sirius locked away, he’d thrown himself into despair. Here, the boy before him looked so much like his mother and father, and he had done nothing to help him this whole time.

Harry’s mind was racing with this new information. Sirius Black was his godfather? That terrible, evil man was once his father’s closest confidant? What could have possessed him to betray them like that?

Dumbledore let out a low sigh. “We only tell you this, because we have reason to believe he may be trying to reach you.”

Harry stiffened. 

“The ministry took it upon themselves to station dementors here, but there is no guarantee he will not simply evade them again. I must implore you to be cautious. Do not leave the castle unless you absolutely have to, and never alone. If possible, request that I or Lupin escort you, if you for some reason need to be without any peers on the grounds.”

Harry nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. His mind was too jumbled to process any of this.

Dumbledore sent him off to bed after that warning, asking Professor Lupin to ensure he arrived safely. The walk to the portrait of the fat lady was tense. Harry could practically feel the guilt-ridden depression radiating off the man next to him. He thought of what Lupin had said earlier. “Our friend.” So he was also a part of his parents’ friend group. 

“He betrayed you, too.” It wasn’t a question.

Lupin glanced at him, a little surprised. “He did.”

“So stop blaming yourself for something you couldn’t have predicted. I’m sure my parents would be upset with you for shouldering all the blame.” Harry was shocked by the steadiness of his voice. “All you can do now is help me stay out of his sight, and live on. Your eyes are way too sullen for someone who would have been as old as my parents…”

Lupin stopped in the hallway, feeling his words and his breath catch in his throat. This was remarkable maturity coming from a thirteen-year-old, and yet, he knew it made sense. Once the boy stopped and swept his green eyes over him, he felt it. There was so much of Lily in him. It’s exactly what she would have said. 

“I’m sorry…” It came out barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry I failed you for so long, Harry. Enough is enough, I’ll make sure no one can harm you. Not Sirius, not anyone.” 

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. In his heart, he knew he would have been close to this man had his parents still been alive. He might have called him Uncle Lupin. Yet, here they were, complete strangers. Harry cleared his throat, and took a step forward.

“Thank you.” He threw his arms around the man, clapping him on the back appreciatively.

He felt him sink into it, felt the sob that threatened to erupt from the man’s chest. He stayed there for a moment, allowing his forgiveness to wash over him.

“Goodnight, Professor.” He stepped back, walking the short ways to the portrait that remained.

Once inside, Harry sank to the floor in front of the armchair currently occupied by Hermione. “Where’s Crooks?” 

“Upstairs I imagine, probably asleep in my room.” Hermione looked up from her book. “What did the Headmaster want?”

Harry blew out an exasperated breath. “He told me about Sirius Black.”

Hermione closed her book abruptly, leaning forward to meet his eyes. “And? What did he say?”

“He was apparently supposed to be my godfather. Except, he either didn’t get the memo, or he just was lousy at his job. What kind of godfather sells your parents out to have you killed?” Harry sighed, leaning his head into the chair.

Hermione shifted her weight, sitting criss-cross above him and running her fingers through his hair. “That’s strange…”

“Among other things, yea, it is pretty strange to betray your friends.”

“No, no. I finally found out some information on him. All the tabloids and old articles say he was “convicted of murder”, only that’s not true. He was only ever accused of murder. There was no formal trial, and no real proof.” Hermione pulled a handful of his hair lightly, forcing him to look at her. “What if…what if they’re wrong? What if he’s innocent?”

Harry frowned. “But, they literally found him at the crime scene, standing in the midst of the destruction. Who else would have caused it, and why would he have been there if it wasn’t him?”

Hermione’s reply was cut off by the sound of someone yelling from the boy’s dormitory.

“Get that bloody cat out of here!” Ron’s voice rang clear through the now silent common room. 

He came stumbling down the stairs soon after, a frazzled looking Scabbers in one hand and a very angry Crookshanks held by the scruff in his other hand. Hermione was up in an instant, practically bulldozing Harry to get to Ron.

“Don’t hold him like that, you’ll hurt him!” Hermione reached for the cat, but Ron yanked it away, causing Crookshanks to flail helplessly in his grasp.

“You keep this bloody cat away from Scabbers, you hear? It almost killed him! I should have cursed him then and there, be grateful I didn’t.” He spat the last part venomously, glaring down at her.

His cold blue eyes held her brown ones. He was easily 3 or 4 inches taller than her, and quite a bit larger, but Hermione would be damned to let anyone speak to her or her cat that way, much less Ronald Bilius Weasley. 

Her wand was in her hand in an instant, and under his chin even sooner. “I don’t know what you think happened, Ronald…but I can assure you Crookshanks isn’t violent, nor would he have any reason to attack Scabbers unless he was provoked.” She grabbed Crookshanks with her other hand, cuddling him close to her chest.

Ron smacked her wand away with his now free hand. “Are you seriously blaming this on me?”

Harry rushed over finally, stepping between the two. “Alright, alright. Calm down, everyone. I’m sure there is some greater misunderstanding between them that we are all unaware of.” Harry gestured between the pets awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. “In any case, let’s just all agree to be more careful with our familiars…”

Neither party looked particularly subdued, but at least they weren’t yelling at each other anymore. Sam and the twins were scolding Ron for his behavior nearby, and Hermione had started back towards her couch. Just as Harry relaxed back into the quiet a shriek rang out from the portrait hole.

“The fat lady has been attacked!” A first-year screamed.

Harry rushed over, only to find her missing from the portrait. Glass shards from her wine glass were scattered on the ground, and running through the centre of the portrait were three deep and jagged claw marks. He glanced around the hallway, but saw no one. Finally, he decided it was best to close it off, but not until he knew everyone was accounted for.

Hermione walked to his side. “Everyone is present according to the prefects…” 

He nodded, glancing around the hallway one last time. “Someone tell the Headmaster.” He said to no one in particular, he knew the portraits would warn him somehow. 

Harry made his way back to the armchair, lost in thought. Hermione climbed over the side, sinking into the cushion. Ron had stalked back upstairs, and the common room was quiet again. Though the quiet was now out of fear, rather than calmness. 

“I don’t understand. Crookshanks would never have done that for no reason.” Hermione stroked the half kneazle affectionately.

Harry agreed, it was unlike him. Whether he was following Hermione to class or simply wandering the castle, Crookshanks kept to himself. Much like any cat, he had little interest in the affairs of others. 

Hermione sighed. “I do hope she’s alright, the fat lady, I mean.”

“What could have possibly done that to her, and why?” Harry muttered.

“I don’t know…perhaps we all just need to sleep. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. Perhaps a stray animal, or…something.” Her exhaustion carried through her words, highlighting her point.

Harry bit back his disbelief for that theory, and simply nodded. 

“I’m going to bed. Professor Lupin said class should be interesting tomorrow.” Hermione tapped his shoulders, urging him to get up so she could leave.

Harry grabbed her hand instead, standing and helping her out of the chair. His hand never left hers as he walked her to the stairs. Hermione wondered what had him so clingy all of a sudden, but decided against asking. Up the stairs she went, but Harry stayed rooted to the ground, eyes trained on the black dog near his dormitory door. The same one that had been following him for so long now. He summoned his wand to his hand, and crept up the stairs.

The dog was sitting back on its hind legs, watching—waiting. Harry stopped just before it, wand raised.

“Who are you?” He asked, knowing it would be strange for it to answer. “What do you want?”

The dog's ears fell to the side, as if it were sad. Harry noticed its tail wagging. He lowered his wand only slightly, looking down at the canine with utter confusion. Just as he was about to extend a hand to pet it, as he often did, a sound surprised them both. When Harry turned back to him, he was gone.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXV~

~The Girl Through Time~

Sirius Black. Harry had known this name before, but why? Was it a memory from when he was a baby? No, it couldn’t be. He pondered this in the secluded area he’d found on the grounds. Despite the Headmaster’s warning, he needed some time alone.

He racked his brain for any kind of answer. He glanced out onto the quidditch pitch nearby. Ginny was flying furiously around obstacles, training as hard as ever. He hadn’t played in a while. After the fiasco of second-year and the whole thing with Sirius, he hadn’t tried out for the team for his third-year. He found himself on the pitch before he fully registered he had moved. 

Ginny hovered above him, looking concerned.

“Get your broom.” It wasn’t a question.

He met her in the sky once he’d changed and grabbed his Nimbus 2001.  

“Run some drills, get whatever is bothering you out of your system.” She nodded towards the magically summoned obstacle course. 

“Sure.”

“Season hasn’t started yet, you could still play.” She glanced at him hopefully.

“Couldn’t find a new seeker?” He smirked.

“Not one as good as you.” She shook her head. “Think about it?”

He nodded, urging his broom forward towards the glowing rings. Once he’d reached his top speed, he flew through the rings with expert precision, urging his turns to be sharper, his eyes to be quicker. He saw the snitch Ginny had released for him. She was watching from the ground, circling idly below him. 

His eyes held the golden blur from across the pitch, it was moving up–fast. He kicked his feet out and held tight to the broom, making himself as small as possible. He urged the broom higher, until he could see over the pitch and was nearly blinded by the afternoon sun. Just as he stuck his hand out to grasp it, a strong gust of wind knocked both him and the snitch to the side. Harry careened wildly against the wind, feeling his vision become blurrier as he saw how far he was from the ground. The snitch had continued its descent, almost a quarter of the way back down by now.

Harry used his momentum to tip forward, feeling his hair stick straight up from the force of his fall. He reached for it, gloved hand almost closing over it, when it hit him. His broom stopped with him as he jolted upright, but his momentum was too much. He was flung backward and sent spiraling down, arms grasping uselessly for anything.

Ginny was there in an instant. She sat on her broom nearby, looking frazzled and dazed, wand raised with a spell that hung silently between them. Levicorpus, she’d shouted through the wind. Harry hung by his ankle, mere inches from the ground.

Harry couldn’t focus, his mind was swimming with information he’d long-since forgotten. Sirius Black. Sirius Black. His parents had known him, they’d have vouched for his innocence if they could. There was just no way he was capable of the crime they claimed he committed. Hagrid had mentioned him occasionally, talking about how much everyone loved him. Harry knew him to be aloof and careless at school, but also just and courageous. Though he would have been angered by the discovery of his best friend's murders, he wouldn’t have taken it out on defenseless muggles. 

It was just as Hermione had said, Sirius had to be innocent. He was willing to bet his life on it. The man had finally broken free of his wrongful imprisonment, and everyone thought he was a murderous coward. 

“Ginny!” He shouted, the wind was still strong.

She’d lowered him to the ground by now, and currently stood above him.

“What, Potter?” She gasped, exasperated.

“Thank you!” he laughed on the grass, arms and legs spread out.

Ginny shook her head. “Whatever Harry, go back to the castle. You can play next game, but take it easy until then, no accidents. I'll talk to Wood for you.”

Harry didn’t answer, too glad to be rid of the notion that he was being stalked by a serial killer. He made his way back to the castle with a grin plastered on his face.

–

Two weeks later, as promised, Harry played as Gryffindor’s seeker in the first game of the season. With quidditch starting so late, everyone was on the edge of their seat for this game. Perhaps, they all needed a distraction from the current tragedies, Harry thought. What was it to him though? He was ready to play.

He saw his family with Hermione and Neville sat near them, Hermione next to his mum and Neville next to Luna on her other side. Hermione waved over enthusiastically, and he could have sworn he heard her wish him luck through the crowd. He felt like he hadn’t seen her in a while, what with practicing and all that. Plus, she always seemed to be busy with classes. Still, he felt her lack of continual presence. He waved back at them all while getting into position. Draco scoffed from nearby, staring him down.

“Good luck, Potter.” he sneered.

Harry just nodded, focusing on Madam Hooch. With a flourish, the balls were released and the match began.

The game against Slytherin was proving to be rather difficult, with no sighting of the snitch on either team quite yet. The teams were neck and neck, neither taking the lead for longer than a few seconds. Just then, Harry saw it, the golden snitch glinted above the stands—coincidentally, right over his mother’s head. Her green eyes were trained on the snitch above her, a knowing smile on her face. Their eyes met as he pushed his weight forward, launching in her direction at top speed. She winked at him before the snitch zoomed away, not giving in that easily.

Screams from his friends and family echoed through the stands as he chased, Draco hot on his tail. Higher and higher the snitch went, much like that time with Ginny those few weeks ago. He clung to his broom tight and fast, just as he had back then, and made his ascent. Higher, faster, stronger, till the top of the stands came into view. The sun wasn’t out today, replaced instead by ominous storm clouds. Harry shivered as rain began pelting his skin, the air growing colder by the second.

Just as he reached out to grab the snitch, he felt that awful sinking feeling he had grown to dread. Death loomed as he saw it—a swarm of dementors rushed him, flying wildly around him. He tried to fly back down, or grab his wand, but he was frozen from shock. He’d lost sight of the snitch, Malfoy, and the pitch below. As the terrifying mouth of a dementor opened to rip his soul from his body, he fell limp, only realizing he was free-falling when he was back near the stands. The world stopped for him then, nothing but the darkness and bitter cold to embrace him.

Hermione’s world also seemed to stop, as she noticed her best friend hurtling towards the ground at an alarming rate. She grabbed Elise, who had also just realized. Nick was already shouting at people to move, running to the edge like he was going to jump down onto the pitch and catch him himself. 

Hermione moved faster, clutching the necklace that hung underneath her sweater. The secret she’d kept from everyone this year, by the grace of Merlin himself. The time turner she’d been using to take extra electives. She’d told Dumbledore she’d only use it for class, and would absolutely not under any circumstances mess with the course of fate. To hell with that. She decided, running back behind the stands and ducking behind a pillar. She turned the small dials of her necklace back, feeling the familiar rush of the scene around her reversing rapidly.

She found herself just minutes before Harry sees the snitch, and carefully ran for the other end of the pitch, pulling her hood over her eyes and reaching for one of the brooms she knew would be stored back here. She gripped it tightly, already feeling her heart racing at the thought of flying as high as he had. She hated heights, and hated brooms even more, but this was all to save him.

Up she flew, out of sight from the pitch. Once she was in the cover of the clouds, she closed her eyes, feeling for his magic. There. She found him swarmed by dementors, and rushed over. With much difficulty, she helped his half-conscious self switch onto her broom, gritting her teeth as his heavier form slumped against her and weighed the broom down significantly. All the while, she slung random spells at the dementors, distracting them while she cast several other charms on Harry’s body.

She hated to make him relive the trauma of falling from a height such as this, but she absolutely could not be seen with him here when so many people knew her to be in the stands right now. With some heavy protective charms shielding his body, she pulled him even closer somehow, noticing his brow was slick with sweat and his whole body was shaking from distress. She felt the tears that had already been falling from the stress of the situation flow freely now as she kissed him on the forehead, holding him gingerly before letting him drop, a hand clamped over her mouth as he careened towards the ground.

She forced her broom away from the dementors, feeling the toll on her own body as they continuously tried to attack her. Once back on the ground, she ran back to the pitch, acting as if she’d run through the stands to get to the field the whole time. It seemed Nick had jumped from the stands, as he now trudged through the muddy field, his son unconscious in his arms. The game had been called off, and the stands evacuated, as teachers and other adults worked to fend off the onslaught of dementors.

–

When Harry woke in the Hospital Wing, he’d been perfectly fine. Besides the gross feeling of knowing he had encountered dementors again, there wasn’t a scratch on his body. Madam Pomfrey called it a miracle, and he watched as his mother fought to collect herself while the mediwitch explained he should be dead. Hermione was sitting next to his bed, her head resting next to him on his right side. Nick brought him food and Sam brought his friends by to see him, giving him an aggressive bear hug when he’d stood later, announcing that everyone needed to stop worrying.

When his parents had left that night—though, only after a several hour long argument about quidditch and how he wasn’t allowed anywhere near a broom till he was at least thirty—he settled next to Hermione on a couch in the mostly-empty common room.

Something had felt off about the whole situation. Of course, the fact that he was uninjured made zero sense, but Pomfrey claimed his magic had saved him. That theory was plausible, he was known to have an incredible capacity for magic, and it was definitely the most logical option.

Hermione snuggled into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his left one.

“Was it you?” He asked quietly.

“Hm?” She hadn’t heard him, she was still exhausted from using that much magic and encountering the dementors.

“I know it was, I feel your magic.” He glanced down at her. “It’s all over me. It was when I was falling and it still is now.”

She looked up at him, hesitant.

“How did you cast that many spells on me while I was falling?” He looked genuinely curious, not accusatory.

“I don’t know…” She mumbled, feeling her eyelids grow heavier with each second. “I couldn’t watch you get hurt…if I could stop it.”

She trailed off, as if her statement was an incomplete thought, and Harry realized she’d fallen asleep. He extracted his arm from hers and guided her head to rest on the pillow underneath where he’d been sitting. He glanced around the room, waving Sam over when they locked eyes.

He leaned down and carefully picked her up, laughing as he watched her let out little exhausted snores. He was about to hand her over when she mumbled something.

“...too much.” He’d missed the first part.

“What?” he whispered.

Sam shrugged, reaching out to take her from him.

“Love you…too much…” Sam heard it, and fought back a laugh.

Harry obviously didn’t catch it that time either as he trudged up the stairs behind her.

Sam rolled her eyes. “These kids…”

–

Harry had been tasked with learning the patronus charm by Dumbledore. The Headmaster had been angrier than Harry had ever seen him when he’d discovered what caused him to plummet that day. He paced his office, demanding Fudge call off the dementors over floo call. Harry watched, a little uncomfortable, but strangely endeared by the Headmaster’s rage.

When Fudge was…entirely unhelpful, Dumbledore decided enough was enough. While he resented the fact that Harry had to give up time of his childhood learning how to defend himself, he felt it was necessary at this point. What he’d originally planned on waiting one more year for, he begged Harry to start now. Slowly of course, he didn’t want to burn him out. 

Weekly lessons with a member of staff on different subjects were being devised. He’d be learning advanced battle strategy and spells from McGonagall. Deeper defense work from Lupin, focusing on being able to disarm and incapacitate an opponent without lethal force. The last kind of lesson Dumbledore wanted to implement, for now, was with Professor Snape. Snape was an expert at dismantling mental defense, so Harry would be tested on his mental shields weekly until even Snape couldn’t enter his mind in secret.

With much of his time spent preparing for these lessons, he found himself seeing Hermione less and less, not to mention all his other friends. Outside of class and dinner, Harry wasn’t confident he’d had a real conversation with Neville in weeks. He felt bad about it of course, but knew he had to keep himself locked on training if he hoped to be able to defend himself and the people he loved. Dumbledore always talked as if Voldemort could return at any moment, which terrified him, but he knew he could minimize the damage and pain that monster could cause if he worked his hardest.

It was in his first weekly session with Lupin that he had admitted this fear, and in turn this resolution to his Professor. Lupin had put an hand on his shoulder and apologized once again—for everything—he’d said. Harry knew he meant for putting a child in this position no one should have to shoulder, for knowing of all the pain a child had gone through and not having stepped in to help until now. Harry had smiled and continued practicing his charm, accepting the spoken and unspoken apology once more.

Lupin told him happy memories fueled the patronus charm. He could think of lots of times he’d been happy, but despite that, his charms were feeble at best. Harry thought of every time he had encountered a dementor so far, and recalled how they sucked the life out of everything around. He could see how a happy memory might fuel enough positive magic to form a strong patronus, but he wondered if that would really be enough.

Lupin had called the lesson off there, announcing he was tired. Harry thought about telling him everything then. How he believed Sirius was innocent, how he had to have been wrongfully imprisoned, but something stopped him. He felt like Lupin wouldn’t believe him, not because he didn’t trust him, but because he already blamed himself for the situation in general. He wasn’t sure how he would react to discovering he was wrong again. So, he left it there, and decided he would think of a way to prove Sirius’s innocence in time.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXVI~

~Moonlight and Shadows~

“Harry!” A shout startled him out of his walk to defense against the dark arts.

Fred and George Weasley stood in the doorway of an empty classroom, waving him over.

“What is it?” Harry asked once he was closer, following them inside.

“We wanted to tell you about this-” Fred started.

“Since it applied to you specifically-” George continued.

“But you can’t tell anyone about what we’re about to show you!”

“It’s sacred, sacred, okay?” George pointed at the nearby desk where a blank piece of parchment sat.

Harry glanced at it curiously. “Er, how…interesting.”

Fred rolled his eyes, and George leaned over the desk, pointing to the parchment. “Look.”

Before his very eyes, the parchment began to change. Text sprawled across the front, spelling out “Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP.” 

“Bloody hell…” Harry muttered under his breath. 

“This beautiful piece of technology is the secret to all of our success.” Fred smirked.

“A shame to give away our biggest secret, but I'll allow it, since it’s you.” George tapped the map with his wand. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” The twins chorused.

The map slowly unfurled, showing a detailed account of Hogwarts. Harry gasped. Tiny dots labeled with the names of all the students and Professors danced across the map, showing their real-time locations.

Fred pointed to a dot outside the castle walls, near Lupin’s classroom. “Sirius Black.”

“He’s after you, just like the Daily prophet said.” George lamented.

Harry frowned. So, Sirius was here. He wasn’t surprised. His eyes scanned the rest of the map, stopping short near the boy’s common room. He snatched it up into his hands, begging his eyes to have been wrong.

Peter Pettigrew. He knew this name too, only this man was supposed to be dead. He was definitely alive, and here.

“Boy, he looks really distressed.” Fred glanced at his brother.

“Hm, should we give it to him?” George shrugged.

Fred hummed in agreement. “I think so, we hardly need it any more.”

“Okay, you win. You can keep it. Stay safe, Potter.” George nodded at him, and they were gone.

Harry felt chills run up his spine, he had to tell the Headmaster. But first, he had to tell Lupin. 

–

He was already a few minutes late when he arrived, map tucked safely into his back pocket. Hermione waited for him near the back of their class, all of whom were gathered around a chest in the centre of the room. Hermione leaned over to whisper to him. 

“It’s a boggart, it’s meant to show a person his or her greatest fear.” She said, “The spell to counteract it is Riddikulus.”

Harry nodded, eyes trained on the man up front. He still looked a little too haggard for a man his age, but Harry swore he looked a little happier. He listened carefully as Lupin explained the activity.

One by one, students were to approach the boggart, casting Ridikulus to subdue it as fast as they could. Neville had been pushed to the front, his back pressed against Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan who were forcing him forward.

Lupin smiled, then opened the chest. The boggart leapt out, morphing into several different shapes before settling on a terrifying display of Severus Snape, cloak billowing and eyes harsh with hate.

Neville steeled himself, and despite his voice cracking slightly, cast “Ridikulus!”

The potions Professor flopped over onto the floor, now sporting a pink nightgown with blue polka dots and an oddly large wig. Neville laughed before switching off.

Ron was up a few turns later, and to no one’s surprise, his boggart morphed into a giant spider. He looked as if he might puke, but cast a successful spell all the same.

Harry was set to go just before Hermione. He walked up, wand ready. The boggart morphed multiple times, cycling through the regular horrors. Then, a clear depiction of Tom Riddle lunged at him, aiming for the scar on his head. Harry staggered back, alarmed, but just as he was about to cast the spell, Lupin stepped in front of him.

The boggart shifted again, turning into the moon. The class stared in blatant confusion as Professor Lupin cast one final “Ridikulus!” before banishing it back into the chest.

Class was dismissed soon after, but Harry stayed back with Hermione, eager to talk with Professor Lupin. They wouldn’t get to though, as the Headmaster called for him to come to his office immediately, some dispute between students to handle.

Harry sighed, plopping onto a bench after practically dragging Hermione to their corner in the library. 

“What did you find out?” Hermione raised a brow, suspicious.

“Do you remember who Peter Pettigrew was?” 

“Yes…That was the man Sirius killed…” Hermione shrugged. “Allegedly.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said about Sirius for a white now. I think you’re right, he has to be innocent. And now, I have proof…I think.” He shifted, motioning for her to sit.

“I was on the pitch with Ginny, when I suddenly remembered something Hagrid had said. He told us about Sirius and my dad, and other things too, but it got me thinking…Everything we know about this man tells us he would never do those things, so why is everyone out to get him?” he was talking fast, gesturing wildly. “He’s innocent, you were right Hermione. But now we have a different mystery. Look.”

There, plain as day, was the name “Peter Pettigrew”. Harry’s finger hovered over it, feeling a sense of dread wash over him as he realized where the supposed dead man was.

“What…is this?” Hermione marveled at the map, tracing her finger along the halls of Hogwarts, stopping at their own names.

“It’s a magical map that lets you know who everyone on the grounds is and where exactly they are. The twins had it. He’s coming right for us.” He looked up at the door instinctively, but when it opened, no one entered.

“Is he invisible…?” Hermione muttered, looking at the map again.

Harry stood up to go investigate, but was stopped by someone standing directly in front of him, blocking his path. He stumbled back onto the bench, recognizing the boy as Jackson Becker, one of Sam and Everette’s friends. 

“Why do you have the twins map?” He looked unamused, leaning over the table and reaching for the parchment. 

Harry stuck out his hand, blocking him from taking it. “They gave it to me.” 

Jackson scoffed. “Seriously? Fine.” He glanced down at it. “Who’s Peter, I don’t know that kid.”

Harry looked, “Peter” was apparently right next to them, but there were no other people near them that he could see. He felt sweat roll down his forehead as he watched the name fly past them and then back out of the library. 

“We’re not sure.” Hermione shrugged, trying to look inconspicuous.

“Well, he’s gone now—whoever he was—probably trying to play a prank or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Hey, are you okay? You look sick.”

Harry looked up at the boy. His brown eyes held his in confused sympathy. Harry noted he looked sort of like his mother, with brown hair that held a slight curl, and light skin dusted with freckles. He pushed up glasses on the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated by his silence.

“I don’t know.” He answered simply. 

Hermione reached for his now shaking hand, glancing at him knowingly.

“What the hell?” Jackson muttered, eyes back on the map. “Hey, kids, pack your stuff. I’m taking you back to the Gryffindor common room.”

Harry saw the name as soon as he did, Sirius was in the castle. “No, we need to see Professor Lupin.”

Jackson frowned but nodded anyway, handing Harry his book bag. “Let’s go, we haven’t got a lot of time.”

Harry pulled Hermione along behind the older boy, tense. He knew Sirius was innocent of the crimes he was arrested for, but what if being in Azkaban had changed him? He was simply put off by two potential murderers roaming the halls of the castle freely—as anyone should be.

“Why Professor Lupin?” Jackson asked when they were nearly at his classroom.

“He’ll know what to do.” was all Harry said, eyes trained on the door.

“Sam was right, you are a strange bunch.” Jackson shook his head. “Where’s the other kid, Neville, was it?”

“Probably went back to the common room with the Weasleys. He needed something from Ginny I think.” Hermione shrugged, a knowing smirk on her lips.

Harry laughed. “Geez, that boy.”

Jackson glanced between the two of them. “Ahh, I see.” He smiled.

The door to Professor Lupin’s classroom was slightly ajar now, and Harry wondered if  he’d ever come back from helping Dumbledore.

“Professor?” he called into the empty classroom.

“Harry!” a shout came from the hallway.

The trio turned back to see Sam hurtling towards them. She stumbled to a stop just before Hermione, grabbing her arms and looking her up and down. Hermione glanced at Harry worriedly, who shrugged.

“Oh thank goodness you two are alright…Neville said you’d gone to the library and someone just said Sirius Black made an appearance near there. He scared a bunch of firsties, and Ron…apparently.” Sam explained in a rush, grabbing Harry to check on him as well.

“Relax Sammy, I had them the whole time. The twins gave him the map.” Jackson put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Your brother is safe.”

Sam took a few deep breaths to calm down, rubbing her temples exasperatedly. “What in the world are Dumbledore and the Ministry thinking, letting this go on for so long? How is it he’s still roaming around freely?”

Harry grimaced. He shouldn’t say anything until it was all confirmed and handled, the less people that knew the better. Still, he couldn’t help but feel bad for his godfather. The whole of wizarding Britain was slandering an innocent man, and there was nothing he could do to redeem himself.

“I’m fine, I’m not worried about him.” He glanced back into the classroom. “But, I really need to talk to Professor Lupin.”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Sam stepped back. “The Headmaster sent him on some sort of business trip for a while, shouldn’t be longer than a few days.”

Harry sighed. Of course.

“Then, what are we meant to do for class?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“Ugh, Snape is stepping in.” Sam scoffed. 

Harry sighed again, he was beginning to think he might have the world’s worst luck. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s go back to the common room.” Sam put her arm around Hermione’s shoulder, excitedly recounting the latest novel she’d read to the younger girl.

Jackson walked next to Harry, twirling his wand idly in his right hand.

“Your spellwork in charms is really impressive.” Harry suddenly remembered watching him and Sam doing a project together. “You manipulate your magic flawlessly.”

He stopped twirling his wand and cleared his throat, obviously caught off guard. “Thanks, Harry.” He reached out and ruffled his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Harry smiled up at the older boy. They weren’t close by any means. Jackson really only spent time with Sam and Everette, and maybe a few Slytherins in his year. Harry knew he had no tolerance for any sort of bigotry, what with him and his friends all mostly being muggleborn. He’d seen a bit of a shift in the older Slytherins with him around recently, they were slower to anger, infinitely more respectful to their housemates, and even interacting positively with other houses occasionally. He was glad he was a positive influence, Merlin knows they need one.

“Jacky, what was it you read that one summer that was so–?” Sam dragged him into their discussion of books while Harry lagged behind, watching them.

As they bid Jackson farewell and entered the common room, chaos met them. Ron was sitting nursing a nasty cut on his shoulder, gripping the table in pain. His brothers stood behind him, discussing amongst themselves. Ginny was wiping the cut off and reprimanding him.

The story they got from the youngest Weasley was that Ron had been walking to the library when he heard a group of firsties start screaming and running. He stupidly—Ginny made sure to emphasize that word—rushed back toward the commotion to handle it himself. He claims that Sirius Black attacked him and fled through a nearby window. 

—

Harry doesn’t quite remember the aftermath, he was quite distracted by the heavy air of the room in his defense class. Snape marched through the room with military precision, shouting for them to open their textbooks.

Werewolves. The title of this chapter. Harry wondered why he’d gone off curriculum. Hermione had too, only she asked out loud.

“Because, Miss Granger, I decide what I am going to teach. You will do well not to question my authority any more.” With that, he launched into his in depth lecture on werewolves.

Harry found the class awkward. Snape talked about werewolves with so much disdain, you’d have thought he’d been personally wronged by one before. Hermione, on the other hand, found it enlightening. She pulled Harry aside after class, eager to share her newly devised theory.

“I think Professor Lupin is a werewolf.” She blurted out once they were alone.

“What?” Harry balked.

“Well, think about it!” She began pacing and gesturing wildly, lost in her explanation. “Professor Lupin is supposedly ‘away on business’ for a few days, which would ordinarily be irrelevant, except it does happen to be a full moon tonight. Also, his greatest fear, if you remember–was the full moon! Why would he fear the moon, maybe because it’s the source of his suffering?!”

Harry wasn’t sold, it all felt too coincidental. “Maybe he’s just a little strange and doesn’t like the moon? What if he was seriously sent out on business for Dumbledore?”

“That all may be the case, but the second he’s gone, Snape takes over and jumps at least seven chapters ahead to cover werewolves specifically? We know they don’t like each other at all, there is definitely a history we don’t know about. But not only that, Snape discussed werewolves with some kind of personal vendetta, in that same way he discusses Lupin as well.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know Hermione…”

“Harry, you have to trust me, I know it seems kind of far fetched right now–”

“Far-fetched at best, Hermione.”

“Alright but I have a feeling I’m right, I just need a little more time and a little more evidence.” With that, she ran off, presumably to go research some more.

Harry stood in the now empty classroom, feeling uneasy. Maybe she was right, but what did that matter, they had class in 30 minutes and he wanted lunch.

–

When he arrived to care of magical creatures, Hagrid was standing in front of them, grinning widely. Harry saw the hippogriff behind him, regal and massive. He recognized it from a book his mum and him had read last year. Hermione was already there, sitting near the front. She must not have researched for very long…Harry thought to himself, gently pushing his way to her.

He helped her up to her feet, about to ask if she had anything to add to her theory, when Hagrid started talking.

“I can’t believe we have to sit through a class taught by this bumbling oaf…” Malfoy snickered. “My father will put a stop to this insanity soon–”

“Malfoy.” Harry sighed, exasperated. “Will you shut up? Professor Hagrid is trying to teach the lesson.”
Harry flashed a grin at Hagrid, knowing the half-giant was already self-conscious about teaching in the first place. Hagrid smiled back, opening his mouth to speak, but Malfoy cut him off again.

“As if I’d listen to a wimp like you, Potter.” He laughed, getting the other Slytherins chuckling and making snide comments at him as well. “Dementor, Dementor!” Malfoy rushed him, pulling the hood of his robe over his face and waving his hands in his face wildly. 

Harry stepped back, in shock by his audacity.

Hagrid clapped once, a crisp, echoing sound. “Draco, why don’t you come be the class example for today’s lesson.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he pointed to the spot of grass in front of the Hippogriff.

Malfoy sauntered over, sufficiently subdued.

“Say hello to Buckbeak.” Hagrid motioned to the hippogriff. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

Malfoy looked unimpressed. “Right, sure, whatever. How do I ride it?”

Hagrid frowned, but continued on anyway, walking around the clearing as he spoke. “First thing you wanna know is they're very proud creatures. Very easily offended. You do not want to insult a hippogriff. It may be the last thing you ever do. Now...you have to let him make the first move. It's only polite. So... step up. Give him a nice bow. Then you wait and see if he bows back, if he does, you can go and touch him.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “This is stupid, I don’t want to do this.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the crowd of students.

Harry sighed. “I’ll try.” He walked to where Malfoy had been standing moments before.

Hagrid smiled warmly. “Thank you, Harry. Now, give him a nice, low bow.”

Harry did so, stooping low, as he often saw in the books on etiquette he had studied. 

“Yea, jus’ like that, Harry. Now, lock eyes with ‘im.” Hagrid whispered excitedly from a ways away.

Harry looked up, meeting Buckbeak’s sharp eyes. The hippogriff sized him up, before bowing slowly. He had passed. Hagrid clapped softly, as did the rest of the class. They waited with baited breath as Harry took a cautious step toward him.

Malfoy shoved past him, causing him to stumble to the side. “Oh please, this is ridiculous. This beast will respect me, or it will face the consequences, why should I bow to a stupid creature anyway?”

He was nearly a foot away from Buckbeak now, intent on attempting to mount him. Hagrid called after him to stop several times, trying to keep the rest of the students back.

Right as he reached out his hand, Buckbeak reared back and kicked Malfoy back to where Harry was, shrieking angrily. Harry glanced down and the crying blonde boy, not feeling an ounce of guilt even as a bit of blood seeped out of the cut on his arm. It seems the scrape from falling on the ground hurt him more than Buckbeak had.

Malfoy scrambled off back to the castle, shouting about telling his father or something of the like. Harry wasn’t really listening, too distracted with trying to calm Buckbeak. He stuck out a cautious hand, trying to communicate that he meant no harm. Buckbeak settled, and kneeled down, as if beckoning him to ride.

Hagrid, now engrossed in Harry’s success, encouraged him to get on. “He’ll take ye’ for a short ride, hold on tight, and remember to be as respectful as possible.”

Harry nodded, grinning excitedly as he mounted Buckbeak. He looked up for Hermione, but she was gone. He figured she must have gotten lost in the crowd. It didn’t matter now, Buckbeak had begun his ascent, flapping his mighty wings until they were well above the forbidden forest.

Harry held onto his feathers gently, relishing in the rush of the wind and the feeling of the sun, bright and warm on his skin. As the castle rushed in and out of sight, Harry noticed Dumbledore stalking away from Professor McGonagall, clearly agitated. A few feet away, Draco stood confidently, open letter in hand. Harry assumed he had already managed to contact his father somehow. He seethed, urging Buckbeak to go back down, he had to get to Hagrid and warn him that something was about to happen.

–

Harry had managed to warn Hagrid, who took the news surprisingly well. He simply nodded, then dismissed class, asking to be left alone with Buckbeak.

Harry rushed to the castle, dragging Hermione along. 

“Draco managed to contact his bloody father already.” Harry said when they were away from the rest of the group.

Hermione sighed. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Right, but I do really need to talk to Dumbledore.” Harry continued on at his too-fast-pace, still pulling her hand.

Hermione broke free of his grasp, chuckling awkwardly. “Well, I need to go talk to…McGonagall so, I’ll catch you at dinner?”

Harry tried to stop her, but she was already down the hall. He knew McGonagall probably wasn’t back in her office yet, but he was in a hurry. He practically ran the rest of the way to Dumbledore’s office, stopping short as the passage closed behind a very disturbed looking Professor McGonagall, next to a mildly annoyed Professor Snape.

“Is Dumbledore here?” Harry asked.

Snape walked away swiftly, his cape billowing behind him. McGonagall sighed.

“No, Mister Potter.” She motioned for him to walk with her. “Did you have business with the Headmaster?”

“I needed to speak with him…but I suppose it can wait. Is Professor Lupin here?” He asked.

McGonagall shook her head. “Professor Lupin is still away on business for the Headmaster for the next few days.” 

Harry fought back a groan. “Alright…thank you, Professor.”

–

When Harry arrived back near the dining hall for dinner, he heard shouting from down the hall. He changed his course, feeling tensions rise as he saw what appeared to be Ron Weasley screaming at a girl. His mood then worsened exponentially when he realized that girl was Hermione.

“Your demented little beast killed him, I know it did!” Ron was yelling so loud, Hermione flinched further into herself at almost every word.

Harry broke into a run, noticing Ron looked like he might swing at her. He used his whole body to push Ron to the side.

“Back off, Weasley.” He said, catching his arm before the redhead fell fully over. “Get yourself together, and I swear to god, if this is about that stupid rat again–”

“Harry!” Hermione touched his arm. “I may not have done anything to Scabbers but a pet is a pet. It would be awful to lose one…”

Harry noticed something was off. Even though Ron was yelling at her, Hermione seemed almost…sickened. Like there was something greater happening. Maybe she thought Crookshanks really did kill Scabbers…

Just then, Sam and Everette appeared down the hall. Sam looked extremely annoyed.

“Ronald.” She seethed. 

“Her cat killed Scabbers, and I’m bloody tired of you always bullying me!” Ron exploded, turning bright red from his rage. “You never take my side on anything, and you constantly try to make me feel like shit for everything I do.”

Sam stopped, taken aback. She’d spent a lot of time around the Weasleys, always there to hang out with the twins. She thought of Ron and Ginny as her younger siblings. She wasn’t nearly as close to them as she was Harry, but she cared for them all the same. She was harsh on Ron because he often needed it. His lazy and almost dumb attitude towards his studies and sometimes his friends was annoying for everyone. His brothers kept him in line as best as they could, and Sam tried to as well, but maybe she had really gone too far.

Everette grabbed her shoulder, the simple touch communicating she should stay where she was. He then convinced Ron to talk elsewhere, stating he would help him search for Scabbers.

“Sam?” Hermione grabbed her friend's hand gently, noticing the far away look in her eyes. 

A low whistle came from nearby, and the trio looked up to see Draco, all sad-looking in his cast and bandages. He walked over slowly, grey eyes bright in the torch light.

“I don’t know why everyone is so upset, Weasley was doing us all a favor, putting the mudblood in her place.” A sick smirk formed on his pale face. “Honestly, I think he should have hit her–”

His comment was cut off by a swift Stupefy to the back of his head.

Jackson stood behind him, eyes dark with disappointment.

“That’s enough Malfoy,” He grabbed the boy’s good shoulder, turning him around and making a shooing motion down the hall. “Run along now.”

Malfoy shook his head, clearing his mind from the spell. “Get off me, Becker.” He jerked out of his grasp.

“Go away, ferret.” Jackson pushed him lightly, urging him to walk.

“I will not. I don’t take orders from Mudbloods.” He spat.

Jackson bristled with anger. “I would challenge you to duel, but you’re clearly even weaker than usual, so why should I bother? Walk away while you still can.”

Harry walked over. “Seriously, you’re injured, and you’re picking a fight with four people who are stronger than you…that’s dumb, even for you.”

Malfoy’s face was red with embarrassment. He pulled out his wand and cast Stupefy at Jackson pointblank. Jackson saw it coming though, and grabbed his wand, directing the spell to the side.

“Enough. Hermione, Sam, let’s go.” He started walking away.

Draco, nearly hysterical now, ripped off his cast—his arm was entirely fine, Harry noted—and launched himself at Harry, knocking them to the ground. Harry shook him off and started running, right out into the courtyard. Malfoy threw spells at him left and right, and the other three followed behind him, all yelling for him to stop. When Harry reached the grounds, he ducked behind a nearby rock, knowing Malfoy was nearly exhausted now. 

“Expelliarmus!” He shot the spell and it hit Malfoy right in the chest, knocking his wand several feet away from him. 

Jackson hit Malfoy with Arresto Momentum seconds later, and the night was quiet once more.

Hermione stalked up to Malfoy’s frozen body. “Release the spell.”

Jackson did so, briefly stunned by the tone of her voice.

When Draco’s body sank out of the binds of the spell, Hermione grabbed his collar, bunching it up in her fist. She pulled back her other arm and connected a solid punch to his nose. The crack that echoed was enough to make Harry and Sam wince. Was it his nose or her knuckles that were broken? Sam wondered, rushing over to her.

Hermione dropped him, rubbing her knuckles as he collapsed onto the ground in pain. Harry laughed loudly, clutching his stomach.

“That was brilliant!” 

Hermione took out her wand and pushed Draco onto his back with her foot. His eyes were full of tears, and blood and snot poured out of his nose. 

“Episkey.” Her tone dripped with disdain, but his nose was fixed.

He didn’t move for a while, probably still terrified by the not-so-quiet-anymore bookworm above him. Or maybe he was more scared of the two fifth years standing menacingly behind her, along with Harry Potter, who looked perhaps even more terrifying. Finally he scampered off.

“Hermione-” Sam breathed between laughs, shaking her by the shoulders. “What the hell, was that?”

Hermione shrugged, embarrassed. “It felt good.” 

The other three sank into more laughter, much to her dismay.

“Enough, we need to go eat dinner.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Yea- Ew, what the hell?” Jackson was standing a few feet away from them, swatting at his shirt sleeve aggressively.

Harry saw Scabbers hanging onto the elbow of his white shirt and laughed again. “Looks like Ron’s still an idiot, Scabbers is right here and he’s fine–” He was immediately cut off by a large black dog bursting from the shadows and forcing Jackson to the ground.

Harry fumbled for his wand, heart racing as the dog mauled at Jackson's arm. Sam yelled, running at them both, but the dog started dragging him away.

Into the forest they went, with Jackson screaming all the way.

“We have to follow them!” Hermione shrieked, sprinting into the forest.

Everette appeared with Ron, causing Sam to stop and explain.

“We have to save him, let’s go.” She pulled them both along, following the sound of Harry and Hermione’s frantic running.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXVII~

~Borrowed Time, Blinding Light~

Harry burst into a clearing, wand pointed at the black dog. Jackson’s back was to him, and the dog faced him. It looked up, eyes flooding with a strange emotion Harry couldn’t quite place. Then, right before his eyes, the dog morphed, growing taller, larger, until it stood on two legs, a man in its place.

Sirius Black, clothed in tattered Azkaban robes, stood before him. He grabbed at Jackson one last time, snatching Scabbers by the throat and holding him high above his head. Harry could see a sort of maniacal gleam in his eye as he did so, and instinctively pushed closer to get between him and Jackson. 

The other four finally arrived in the clearing, and Ron let out an exasperated cry. “Give me Scabbers!”

Sirius shook his head wildly. “Absolutely not, kid. I’m going to murder this rat, not that he deserves the mercy of dying–”

Harry had been watching Jackson this whole time, noticing the blood spilling from his arm. He’d long since passed out, and Harry was worried this much blood loss might affect his arm permanently.

“Sam, Everette! You have to get him back to the castle!” He’d swooped down, pulling Jackson away from Sirius,

“Are you crazy?!” Sam exclaimed, taking one of Jackson's arms from Harry. “We can’t just leave you here with him!”

Harry turned back tentatively. “It’s okay. He’s my godfather. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Sirius still looked a little insane, but his eyes pooled with tears hearing Harry say that. 

Sam’s head was screaming that this was a terrible, awful idea…but Jackson needed help, and something in Harry’s eyes told her he would be fine.

“Fine. You three protect each other, I’m coming to get you as soon as he’s safe inside.” She and Everette hauled Jackson onto their shoulders, bracing his weight between them.

“Are you crazy?” Ron hissed, “They were our best shot at killing this guy and getting Scabbers back!”

“We’re not killing him!” Harry shouted. “He’s innocent.”

Hermione inched forward, shaking slightly. “Mister Black, I’m Hermione Granger. I’m Harry’s best friend.” She took another step towards the man. “Why do you need to…kill the rat?” 

Sirius, breathing heavily and shaking with stress, laughed. “This is no rat, this is a coward who betrayed his friends…”

Recognition dawned on Harry's face then. If Sirius was an animagus, it wasn’t far-fetched to assume Peter would be too. He knew that rat was much too old to be any regular household pet.

Hermione realized it too, her suspicions now confirmed. Too many times had she noticed that rat behave oddly. Not to mention Peter’s name showing up on the map where no one could be seen.

Sirius reached toward Harry. “I need to borrow your wand…I need to kill him.”

Ron stepped between them. “No, Harry, you can’t let him kill Scabbers!”

Sirius exhaled. “How many times do I have to tell you, this is not your bloody pet!”

Ron reached for Scabbers, but Sirius gnashed his teeth at him, snarling as if he were still in his dog form.

“Sirius!” The voice of Remus Lupin cut through the clearing, icy and firm.

“Moony?” Sirius turned, dropping Scabbers.

Ron lunged for him, scooping him up and fighting to hold the clearly distressed rat.

“Get away from the children.” His wand was aimed right at Sirius's chest, a spell on the tip of his tongue,

“Professor! He’s innocent!” Harry put his wand down.

“Harry, be quiet and get out of here, all of you go back to the castle. Now!”

“I have proof!” Harry yanked the map out of his pocket, opening it roughly. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!”

The map flashed to life and there, plain as day, was the name Peter Pettigrew—right where Ron was standing. Harry turned the map around and showed him. Remus stumbled, dropping his wand for a moment, then pointed it right at Ron, shouting a spell Harry hadn’t heard before. Ron dropped to the ground, and Scabbers convulsed wildly, morphing just as Sirius had done moments ago.

A large, sickly looking man sat where Scabbers had just before, breathing erratically. 

“Remus…” He breathed, putting on an act. “It’s me, your friend…”

Lupin’s face cycled through all five stages of grief in seconds, before hardening with resolve. He summoned ropes and had Peter dangling upside down on a nearby tree.

Sirius cackled, overcome with glee. “Yes, yes! You filthy coward, I finally caught you!”

“Ahhh, vengeance is sweet.” Another voice echoed through the clearing. “I knew I would catch you, Black.”

Snape stepped out of the shadows, casting chains to hold Sirius in the same way Peter was. Sirius bucked and flailed, trying to break free, but it was no use.

“I should have known you’d be helping him, Lupin.” Snape spat the name like it was poison. 

“Snape, let’s all settle down, we have to turn him into the–” Lupin tried.

“Oh, we’ll be turning all three of you in. To the dementors, that is. I’ve heard their kiss is unbearable to witness. I shall try my best.” A sick smirk played on his face.

“Professor!” Hermione cried. “You don’t understand, we have to get Dumbledore and take them to the ministry–”

“Enough.” Snape cut the three of them a look.

Harry looked over at Professor Lupin, expecting to see him angry or upset. Instead he looked…wrong. His eyes had grown wide, his skin slick with sweat, and his body twitched uncontrollably.

“Remus, did you not take your potion tonight?” Sirius called, his tone carrying a weight Harry couldn’t figure out.

Snape glanced up at the sky, then back at Lupin, frowning.

The ropes around Peter loosened, then collapsed completely, sending the man crashing onto the forest floor. Snape’s own spell faltered, and Sirius managed to transform into a dog, standing between the kids and Lupin. Snape put an arm out in front of the kids protectively, much to Harry’s confusion.

“Get back to the castle.” He muttered.

Lupin was thrashing wildly now, his body slowly transforming. Hermione was right, yet again. Here stood a werewolf, eyes wild and unrecognizable. Harry grabbed Hermione, pulling her behind him.

“Professor, you have to–”

“Leave, Potter. Now. Go, if you value your life.” When Harry hesitated still, he tried again. “Then go if you value hers.”

Hermione took a step away from the scene, clearly frightened. Harry grit his teeth, knowing he was right. He grabbed her hand, and began their escape. Ron followed them, too horrified to speak.

On and on they ran, crashing through the forest. Echoes of spells and howls behind them sent chills down their spine. Whatever was happening, whoever was winning, it was brutal. Finally, they broke through the tree line, but not once did they slow their pace. Not until they finally reached the Hospital Wing. Sam and Everette were explaining the situation to Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. Jackson was draped across a bed, unconscious still. Harry could hear the fear in Sam’s voice as she talked to Dumbledore. He felt it too, creeping into his own body, that entire experience was terrifying.

“Ron, go tell Sam and Everette what just happened, we need to talk to Dumbledore.” Hermione said. 

Ron was too shocked to question the order, running up to the two older kids and pulling them aside.

When they were next to the old wizard, he held up a hand and shook his head. He didn’t want to know what happened, or perhaps he already did. Hermione nodded, but her eyes begged the Headmaster for an answer, how could they stop what was about to happen?

“Time.” The Headmaster spoke, taking a lengthy pause before beginning again. “Mysterious. Dangerous, too. Not to be meddled with. Time will pass, and we might look back and wonder…What could we have changed?”

Harry looked between Dumbledore and his best friend, knowing there was some deeper meaning to his rambling, but what?

“Sirius Black will be held in the topmost cell of the dark tower. Severus has already informed me.” He started walking away from them then, only to pause just before he reached the door. “In just a few short minutes, you will have the opportunity to save someone tonight, miss Granger. Perhaps, if you are cunning, you might save more than one. You know the laws—you must not be seen.”

Hermione ran a hand through her messy curls, watching him in shock as he left. Harry raked a hand through his own hair, stressed. What exactly were they on about, and what’s this about two lives needing to be saved. Snape was clearly fine, and Lupin would be too, once he turned back. Surely the Professor wouldn’t want them to save Peter?

Hermione inhaled sharply, grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him out of the Hospital Wing and into the hall. She whipped around, checking to see that they were alone. Once she’d confirmed, she leaned in close, pulling the collar of her sweater down aggressively. Harry whipped his head to the side, alarmed.

“Hermione, what are you doing–” He exclaimed.

“Oh my god, Harry…just look.” Her face flushed red, embarrassed by his reaction.

He turned back slowly, taking in the necklace she now held between her thumb and pointer finger. A gold chain that held a series of rings with an hour glass in the centre. Harry raised a brow.

“I like your necklace?” He tried.

Hermione fought an eye roll. “This is a time turner. I’ve been using it all semester to take extra classes.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Extra classes?” He thought of the random times Hermione would disappear for several hours throughout the semester, or when she would mysteriously arrive to places before him, despite having supposedly been much farther away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked hurt.

“I wanted to, but Dumbledore said I mustn’t allow anyone to know I was using this.” She looked incredibly guilty.

“Okay…but what classes are you even taking? Why did you want to take extra ones without me?” His frown deepened. 

“It wasn’t like that Harry!” She grabbed his sleeve with her free hand. “I…I’ll explain later, alright? It’s almost time to use it now.”

“Wait, wait. What exactly is going on?” Harry shook his head, still confused.

“Weren’t you listening to Dumbledore?” She cocked her head to the side.

He gave her an exasperated look. “That conversation was with you and you alone, I had no idea what he was on about…”

“He told us we have to save Sirius, but we have to wait till they put him in the cell, so we don’t get caught.” She thumbed the time turner. “Messing with time is complicated, you have to be extremely careful, and we cannot be seen by anyone.”

Harry nodded. “What did he mean when he was talking about saving someone else?” 

“Buckbeak…I think.” Hermione bit her lip. “I think they are going to execute Buckbeak tonight as well. That’s what Dumbledore has been at the ministry fighting. He didn’t want to see Hagrid punished for something that wasn’t his fault.”

Harry’s face fell. He walked down the hall to a nearby window, searching for Hagrid’s hut. Sure enough, a man carrying a large axe, along with the minister, Lucius Malfoy, and the Headmaster, were on their way to the door.

“Alright, when do we turn back?” Harry glanced at her.

“It’s almost time.” She joined him at the window, watching the four men talk to their friend.

When the man with the axe headed to the back of the hut, she grabbed Harry’s arms, turning him to face her. 

“Lean down.” She motioned with her finger. “I need to put the chain around both of us.

He followed her instructions, dipping his head and letting her drape the chain around his neck. He instinctively stepped closer to allow more slack between them. They were inches apart now, and Harry realized he must have grown again since the year began, as he was now at least two inches taller than her. His green eyes traced her face, taut with concentration as she fiddled with the time turner. 

“Okay…It’s time.” She glanced up, fighting the blush that threatened to rush across her face—now was not the time to be thinking about such things.

Harry looked around as the world seemed to spin, Hermione had begun turning back the time. He watched them walk out of the Hospital Wing, watched Dumbledore leave, then watched themselves run in for the first time.  When the world slowed once more, Hermione was already moving, dragging Harry with her.

“We have to get down to Buckbeak.” She hissed, already entirely stressed out by the time constraint. 

When they were nearly out of the castle, Harry noticed Sam and Everette running in, Jackson draped over their arms. Against his better judgement, he reached out and grabbed the hoodie of Hermione’s jumper, the only thing within reach, and yanked her backward. He pulled his own hood over the back of his head and pressed her into the wall, his eyes trained on their friends hurrying by them, totally unaware of their presence. Once they were out of sight and earshot, he stepped back, proud of himself.

“Can’t be seen, right?” He said, finally moving his hands from where they blocked her movements.

He looked down at her, ready to continue on, but her face was a concerning shade of red. Her eyes were wide with an emotion somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. She cursed internally as her heart continued to speed up, and wondered if it was as loud as it sounded in her ears.

“Hermione?” He reached out to put his hand on her forehead. “Do you have a fever or something? Why are you-”

“No! I’m fine...we have to go.” She swatted his hand away before he could touch her and broke into a run, heading for the doors.

Harry followed, slightly concerned but more focused on their next steps. How would they save Buckbeak? Was he tied up? Where would he go? He supposed being free out in the wild was infinitely safer than trapped here, but it still made him a little uneasy.

When they finally got to Hagrid’s hut, Hermione headed to the back garden, motioning for Harry to stay low. They sat behind a low stone wall near Buckbeak, who was currently dozing lazily.

“We can’t release him until they arrive.” She whispered. 

“What, why? Shouldn’t we move as quickly as possible?”

“Well, no, since we know Sirius isn’t quite locked up yet. We’ll have to wait until just before we went back in time to save him. But also, if we release Buckbeak now, they will just accuse Hagrid of releasing him and have him arrested. If we wait till they are all in his hut, then they will have seen Buckbeak out here, and then he’ll be gone and Hagrid will have been with them the whole time, meaning they can’t implicate him for the crime.” She explained.

Harry nodded along, eternally grateful his best friend was a lot smarter than him. Okay, maybe not a lot smarter, but she was certainly a lot wiser. He watched her watch for the four men, noticing her slight tremors, possibly from fear or stress, maybe from the cold. He cast a warming charm on her jacket, thumbing his wand lazily as the four men finally appeared in the field.

Hermione trained her eyes on them so that she wouldn’t have to look at her best friend. She felt her jacket warm up as he cast the charm quietly. She had been quite chilly, not dressed to be outside in the Autumn evening of Scotland. There were so many problems swirling in her mind, she was having a hard time focusing. Of the ever growing list of incredibly heavy problems that came with having Harry Potter as your best friend, and the struggles of taking as many classes as she was, not to mention the very current—and incredibly illegal—mission they had just set out on, she found herself with a throbbing headache. And perhaps the most alarming problem to her specifically, despite knowing the absurdity of it, was the fact that she seemed to be falling helplessly in love with the aforementioned boy. 

In all the years they’d known each other now, she hadn’t considered him romantically even once. Why would she have? They met when they were in primary school and practically grew up as siblings. She frowned, no, Harry was not like her brother. Neville she viewed as an adorably polite younger brother, Ron could maybe be a particularly annoying brother, but Harry? Harry held a much more convoluted title in her mind. Her brain fumed over these thoughts so aggressively, she didn’t hear Harry calling her name.

“‘Mione?” He shook her arm gently. “They’re at the door, we have to get started.”

She was successfully shaken from her thoughts, immediately standing and walking a few paces over to face the hippogriff.

“We’ll have to be extra careful, we don’t want to spook him.” Harry stepped out toward him, waking the majestic creature.

Buckbeak stood and stared between the two teens curiously, letting out a few loud squawks and stomping his hooves into the ground. Harry bowed once more, taking the liberty of grabbing the chain that Buckbeak was tied to and holding it firmly.

When he finally settled a little, Hermione noticed the conversation inside the hut was getting closer, signaling they were about to come outside.

“Harry, we have to hurry!” She hissed.

“I know, I know.” He said, unhooking the chain from the weight it was attached to. 

Buckbeak watched him curiously, but made no move to follow as Harry began stepping back towards the forest. 

“Buckbeak! We’re trying to save you, boy, come on!” Harry sighed. 

Hermione glanced around, knowing the hippogriff was probably far too attached to Hagrid to willingly go anywhere without him. A bag of dead rodents sat a few feet away, probably used as treats when training him. She grimaced but hurled the bag over her shoulder all the same, dangling a dead ferret in Buckbeaks’s general direction.

“Here boy, come get the ferret!” She threw it a few feet closer to the forest, and Buckbeak swooped after it immediately, suddenly very excited to follow them.

The teens looked at each other, relieved. Just then, the door opened. Hermione froze, Buckbeak blocked their view for the most part, but she wasn’t confident they would stay unnoticed, they had to leave now.

Dumbledore was pointing out the front door, gesturing toward some mysterious magical plant that was apparently very valuable a ways away, blocking Lucius and Hagrid in the hut. With their backs to them, Hermione spun on her heel and headed into the forest, throwing a couple of rodents for Buckbeak to fetch. Soon, they were sneaking around the forest, having successfully evaded Buckbeak execution.

Harry found a good vantage point far enough away from their earlier altercation that they could watch but not be caught. Just as before, the kids ran away just as Lupin fully transformed into a werewolf. Harry watched in dismay as Sirius battled it out with Lupin, trying to distract him from their fleeing forms and Professor Snape.

Soon, Lupin grew tired of fighting, and ran off into the woods. Snape levitated Sirius’s mostly unconscious form back to the castle to be locked up. Harry grit his teeth, that snake of a man was definitely the bane of his existence right now. 

Hermione motioned for Harry to follow Snape, and they did their best from a distance, trying to keep Buckbeak quiet. They ducked behind a tree only a few feet away from where Snape had cast some sort of spell that was delivering a message to Dumbledore. Harry couldn’t hear what he was saying, the noises of the forest overpowered the Professors’ mumbling, but he could tell when he’d left. It had finally gone quiet…almost too quiet.

“Harry…” Hermione sounded terrified, her voice was barely above a whisper. “Look…”

Lupin was creeping toward them, a predator stalking its prey. Harry grabbed Hermione instinctively, shielding her entire body with his own. He heard Lupin snarl and leap at them, but didn’t dare look.

As if terribly offended, Buckbeak charged the werewolf, standing between him and the kids. He flailed wildly, attacking Lupin with his hooves. The werewolf scratched and clawed, eventually getting past him. 

Harry and Hermione broke into a run, stumbling through the forest brush until the beast caught up with them. Harry took out his wand and sent one supercharged “Bombarda!” At the ground between them, using it as a distraction to press back further.

Unbeknownst to him, a small—but incredibly steep—hill that led to the black lake was behind him. As he pushed himself and Hermione backward, he suddenly found he had no ground to stand on, and the two stumbled awkwardly into a pile of rocks and tree limbs.

Lupin glanced over the edge, saw no one, and fled. Harry could vaguely hear Buckbeak angrily screeching at the werewolf, but that soon stopped as well. He reached around clumsily for Hermione, wondering why she hadn’t moved.

“Hermione?” He said. “Hermione, where are you?”

He heard a low groan from a few feet away. Hermione was badly injured, most likely concussed from the fall. He brushed his own bruised and bloodied body off and limped over to her.

“‘Mione?” He shifted her into a more comfortable position. “You have to stay awake okay? We need to get you back to the Hospital Wing…”

“Sirius…” she managed through the pain. 

“I’ll have to figure out Sirius after I know you’re safe, I can’t-“

Harry whipped up, alarmed. The air had grown colder, practically freezing. He looked at the water, still and unmoving. Then he saw it, ice. He fumbled uselessly for his wand. Dementors were coming. They must have sensed Sirius was in these woods.

“Hermione, don’t panic.” He propped her up onto his shoulder. “There are dementors close, can you walk?”

“Dementors?!” She moaned through the pain.

Then, as if summoned, they appeared. A huge fleet of them, twice as many as the day Harry encountered them in the sky. Harry felt his blood run cold, not from the chill they brought, but from the notion that he might not be able to save Hermione this time.

They were trapped down here, and he still hadn’t mastered the patronus charm, but there wasn’t anything else to be done. He pulled Hermione close, backing into the hill they had just tumbled down. He felt tears threaten to fall as they descended, their gnarled, grotesque faces flashing by them rapidly.

He felt his body being pulled back and forth as dementors swooped down one by one, extracting his soul little by little. Hermione cried out in pain as they did the same to her. He felt despair bubbling up inside him. He had to save her. He had to. He had to try the charm, even if it only bought them time, he had to do it.

“Expecto-“ another dementor swooped by as he held his wand up, knocking him back. “Expecto Patronum!” He tried again.

Nothing happened. He shook his wand desperately, urging for the light to appear. 

“Expecto Patronum!” He said it with more force this time. 

Still nothing. He felt Hermione shake in his grasp, the effect of the dementors taking a much greater toll on her. He clasped his hand with her own, tears and blood pooling onto his shirt. 

“Harry…” she choked out between sobs.

Then, one last dementor rushed them, pulling the last of his best friend's soul clean out of her mouth. Harry watched, horrified as a small glimmer of blue light floated further and further away from her entirely-too-still body. The life left her eyes in an instant, and he knew instinctively, she was gone.

He shuddered, feeling new strength consume him—or perhaps utter anguish simply overtook his heart—and he called out one final, desperate time.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” His voice broke as he said the spell, but he could feel it work in his core before it even left his wand.

White light erupted over the lake, dispelling the dementors in waves. He stayed rooted to the ground, unable to move under the weight of the spell. As the light finally subsided, a beautiful gleaming stag stood in the middle of the frozen lake. It bowed its head gracefully, and just like that, vanished.

Harry looked back at Hermione, sighing gratefully when her soul crashed back into her body. colour returned to her cheeks, and her eyes sprang open. She sat up, fully horrified at the realization that she had just effectively died. The shock and adrenaline overtook her, filling her with energy once more.

Harry crushed her with a hug, not caring if they developed more bruises from it.

“Oh my god…oh my god, Hermione…” He whispered into her hair.

She patted his back awkwardly. “They’re…they’re gone?” She looked around at the empty lake.

“I cast a corporeal patrons!” He pulled away, beaming at her. “I saved you!”

She nodded, tears springing in her eyes. “Thank you, Harry.” She cupped his cheek, dragging her thumb along a cut that had formed along his right cheek. 

They stayed like that for a moment, drinking each other’s presence in; confirming they had, in fact, survived. Harry smiled dumbly at her, placing his own hand over hers.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Where’s Buckbeak?”

Harry backed up even further, standing now. “Ah, um. Not sure.”

He helped her up to her feet. There, just over the small cliff they had fallen off of, Buckbeak sat uncaring and unamused. His tail flicked back and forth impatiently.

“There he is…” Harry scoffed. “Can you come down here Buckbeak? We need your help.” 

Buckbeak huffed, but hopped down all the same. Harry reached out tentatively, placing a hand on the hippogriffs’ head. 

“You saved us once tonight, and I thank you for that.” He spoke quietly, petting him slowly. “Can you help us save one more man?”

Buckbeak bowed his head and crouched low, signaling them to get on. Harry turned and offered his hand to Hermione, helping her mount. He swung his own legs over behind her and clasped Buckbeak's feathers, much like he had done previously.

“Alright, you’re gonna have to help me steer, cause I can’t really see through your hair.” He laughed.

“Ugh…I hate flying…” Hermione mumbled as Buckbeak prepared to take off. “Please make sure he flies sa-“

But her request would fall on deaf ears, as Buckbeak decided it was of utmost importance to race to the sky. His wings flapped aggressively as he took them higher and higher, far above the tree tops and into the clouds. Hermione’s scream reverberated in Harry’s ears, even so, he found himself full of mirth. Buckbeak knew where he wanted to go instinctively, getting to the dark tower in record time.

When they landed, Hermione stayed rooted to her spot, back pressed firmly into Harry’s torso, and fingers digging into his arms. He pushed her forward gently, hopping off Buckbeak and holding out his hand to help her down. She took it and hopped—it was more of a fall really, but Harry didn’t want to rub salt in the wound by pointing that out—off, not letting go of Harry's hand once she fully realized how high they were. 

“Let’s save your reckless godfather and get down.” She said through gritted teeth. “Bombarda.”

The spell probably had a little more force than it needed behind it, but no one mentioned that. A surprised looking Sirius sat chained up to the back wall, inches away from a loose brick that Hermione had blown out of the wall.

“I heard a lot about you in the castle, Hermione Granger.” He whistled. “You really are the brightest witch of your age, aren’t you?”

Hermione flushed. Who was saying that? She wondered, letting Harry pass her to undo his chains.

“She is, it’s all true.” Harry laughed, breaking the chains with a clean “Reducto.”

“Of course she is, the Potter men like them that way, don’t they?” Sirius shook his head. “You be good and do what she says boy, trust me. You’ll only find girls like that once in a lifetime.” His face was entirely serious, and his grip on Harry’s shoulders spoke of a story behind that comment.

Hermione was probably the colour of Harry’s red shirt by now, and had decided to join Buckbeak outside the cell door. She wasn’t going to entertain Sirius’s relationship advice about her right now.

“Hey, Hermione.” Harry poked his head out a few minutes later. “I reckon we should let Sirius take Buckbeak, we can walk back down and go through the castle. I bet everyone is still in the Hospital Wing right about now. If we hurry, we can make it seem like we only stepped out for a few minutes.”

Sirius came out as well, looking a bit sad. “Yea, with Pettigrew still missing, I’ll have to be on the run for a while.” 

Hermione nodded, stepping toward Harry to let Sirius approach Buckbeak. Instead, the man pulled them both into a hug.

“Thank you, I mean it. Thanks for believing in me, and for saving me. I won’t forget it, not ever. When I’m free, you both will have my support for the rest of your lives, you hear?”

Hermione returned the hug with everything she had. She didn’t know the man obviously, but she knew he had a good heart. And, just the thought of him rotting in a cell in Azkaban after being sent there unfairly made her sick with grief. She could feel the desperation for real human connection radiating off of him.

Harry followed her lead, squeezing his godfather with everything he had. Sirius was unaware of his living situation, but entirely grateful to hear he had been adopted by good people. He had offered Harry a place to stay with him when he was free regardless, letting him know he would always be welcome, and he would always be seeking to strengthen their bond. Harry had thanked the man, and promised to introduce him and Lupin to his parents someday soon. After all, what were a few more sets of uncles to add to their family get togethers?

With that, they bade him farewell, watching him fly off into the distance. Harry hugged Hermione one last time on the Dark Tower, before they began their descent. He pulled her close, settling into her with practiced ease.

“We did it.” He sighed. “It’s over.”

“It is.” She nodded into his chest, bringing her own arms around his torso. “Hey…what the–you got taller again?” She said, backing up slightly.

Harry chuckled. “I noticed it earlier. Just wait, by this time next year, I'll be a whole head taller.” He smirked, waving his hand between the top of their heads pointedly.

Hermione sighed. “Ugh, boys.”

–

When they arrived back at the Hospital Wing, they quietly assured the people who had witnessed the events of the night that it had all been taken care of. Jackson had been released after a few hours of rest and several potions.

Harry and Hermione turned themselves in to be checked, and Madam Pomfrey had a few strong words to say about their state. Still, she fixed them right up and they were sent on their way. Instead of heading back to the common room immediately, Hermione directed Harry to a nearby classroom to avoid any roaming prefects.

“I know you have questions about the time turner, you can ask me now.” She hung her head guiltily, thumbing the aforementioned necklace while she waited for him to get upset again.

“Actually, I’ve decided I'm not angry.” Harry shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I like learning, but not like you, you know? I have my things, and you have yours, and that’s okay. We don’t have to do everything  together.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Hermione smiled. “That’s true, but I’m still sorry I didn’t tell you about it. Honestly, Professor McGonagall approached me about it on the first day of term and I accepted immediately. If it had been my plan from the start, you probably would have known.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t need to keep tabs on you silly, I was just confused earlier as to why you would want to do that.”

“It’s important to be as educated as possible, Harry. You know this.” She crossed her arms.

“Well sure, but also…no thanks. I have enough school outside of actual school with my mum.” He yawned. “I think I'm much better suited at other things besides hardcore academics anyway. I think I might consider being an auror after school. Professor Lupin says I have a natural talent for defense.”

Hermione smiled. “You do. You have a leg up over most students, considering your training, but your natural affinity and impressive magical capacity are definitely useful.” Her raised eyebrow implied she was making fun of him a little, but he took it as a compliment anyway.

“My tutoring sessions are really helpful, I think I want to start a dueling club or something. And, even though I don’t like the man…Snape is really powerful, you know?” He sighed. “I want to try to learn a lot from him, despite not trusting him fully. Dumbledore does, and now that we know he’s trying to atone for how he was in the past, I think we can trust his opinion at last somewhat.”

“He’s still a bit of a bizarre man, even for an old wizard.” Hermione shook her head. “He’s growing on me though.”

Harry chuckled. “Fair.”

“Hey, it’s officially November.” Hermione commented as the clock struck midnight.

Harry shook his head. “What’s it with me and Halloween? I always have such awful things happen to me on this day…”

Hermione shrugged. “Who knows?”

They stood there for a moment, listening to the final tolls of midnight. Harry stared out the classroom window, eyes focused on the full moon. Hermione traced the lines of his face with her eyes, wondering what he was thinking so deeply about.

“What do you think will happen to Lupin?” He asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Snape knows he’s a werewolf. There’s no way he isn’t going to make a fuss about that, considering he already doesn’t want to see him working here.” Harry sighed. “Do you think he'll be sacked?”

“I hope not.” Hermione frowned. “He’s been our best Defense Professor by far.”

“Oh what, the gorgeous Gilderoy Lockhart wasn’t cutting it for you?” He asked mockingly.

Hermione flushed red. “We agreed not to bring that up…”

He rolled his eyes. “Right, right.”

Another beat of silence passed between them. 

“I was talking to Nev the other day—he mentioned some sort of event happening soon. I think I should go.” He said eventually.

“Oh?” Hermione considered this. “So you want to begin taking over the lordship?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do…” He got that distant look in his eyes again. “I want to help Sirius get exonerated, and I want to make sure Lupin is doing okay too. I think this is the only job he’s been able to maintain. If they want to gain a standing like they had back in the day, they’ll need all the support they can get, you know?” He shuffled somewhat awkwardly. “I am the heir to the Potter name, I should probably do everything I can to live up to the standard.”

Hermione snorted. “Alright, your majesty, what’s your plan?”

He felt his ears redden, but answered her question nonetheless. “I need to start taking more lessons in etiquette and things like that to help me prepare. I think, when I turn sixteen, that’s when I'll take on the Potter name officially, at least.”

“You should talk to Nev’s grandma, and McGonagall. They could help you with that.” She put a hand to her chin, a tell-tale sign that she was already creating an elaborate plan to help him achieve his goal. “You should come up with a schedule to make sure you’re studying for all of these things adequately. It wouldn’t help to save some of this training for a more intensive course in the summer either, you’ll want some time to yourself I’m sure.”

“Well good thing I have a great planner.” He smirked.

“Oh, you can create your own plan. You’re a man, act like it.” She cocked her head. “And while we’re on the subject, I can’t do study nights every night anymore. Now that you know what my schedule is like, you should know that that’s ridiculous.”

Harry’s face fell. “But Nev and I will be so lonely…”

“Aw.” She started walking out of the classroom. “Anyway, check your fancy map and see if it’s clear to head back, will you?”

He grumbled, but pulled the map out nonetheless. “Er…” 

“Well, is it clear?” She asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yea, no prefects. Just…Sam in a closet?” He balked. “With Everette…?”

Hermione almost screamed, reaching for the paper aggressively. “No way…”

Harry shook his head, aghast. “What the bloody hell do they think they’re doing in there?”

Hermione was grinning like a lunatic. “I knew it. Ohhh I knew it, Harry! It’s finally happening.”

He looked like he might be sick, but Hermione flicked him on the forehead and prompted him to start walking.

With that, they headed for the direct path to the common room. Slipping the fully recovered portrait of the Fat Lady the password and walking in undetected. The common room was quiet, no one was awake any more, now that it was past midnight. Hermione exhaled, grateful for this day to be over. Right as they were about to head up the stairs, the portrait opened once more. A very disheveled looking Sam crept in, her jumper lost and undershirt on mostly crooked. Her hair was significantly messier than when she’d left the Hospital Wing, and her makeup was mostly gone. 

They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Sam looked rightfully mortified. The two younger teens shuffled through a cycle of emotions, before settling on a knowing frown.

“Don’t judge me…” Sam cringed internally, wanting nothing more than to disappear. “And, it’s not what it looks like okay, I was very upset and crying and–”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Harry nodded seriously, fighting back a scream.

Hermione snorted, then covered it up with a cough.

Sam’s face coordinated splendidly with the decor of the common room by now, and she crossed her arms in defeat. “Alright, alright. Don’t be like me when you grow up and all that, okay?”

Hermione shrugged. “Don’t see myself struggling with that, personally.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Oh believe me, we know.”

The two looked slightly offended.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry frowned.

“Oh, forget it. You wouldn’t understand if the answer slapped you across the face, now would you?” She shook her head. “Oblivious fools.”

Hermione turned awkwardly to the stairs, wondering if Sam perhaps was aware of her developing crush on the boy next to her. Deciding to not chance her revealing anything, she made the move to leave first.

“Well! I’m off to bed—goodnight, you two.” She smiled awkwardly. 

Harry grabbed her hand before she got too far up. “Let’s keep talking about…what we were talking about earlier soon, okay?” He referenced the conversation on taking over the lordship. “Also, make sure you eat breakfast early tomorrow, you skipped dinner tonight.”

“So did you, remember?” Hermione laughed. “Meet me down here at seven, we’ll talk over food.”

“Alright.” Harry smiled, letting go of her arm. “Goodnight, ‘Mione.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” 

Sam stood at the base of the stairs looking disgruntled.

“I mean…seriously.” She rubbed her temples. “Wow.”

Without another word, she followed Hermione up the stairs, leaving Harry to wonder what that was all about. He didn’t wonder for long though, as he was asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXVIII~

~A Matter of Appearances~

When Harry and Hermione arrived at breakfast the next morning, two large packages sat in front of their usual seats. The one addressed to Harry was long, while Hermione’s was an even square. They glanced at each other curiously, who could have sent them something?

“Well go on then, open it.” George called from nearby.

“Yea, we wanna know what it is.” Fred agreed immediately, gesturing between the packages.

Harry moved to rip his package open, unable to mask his shock and delight when he saw what was inside. A Firebolt, shining with fresh polish and clearly totally unused before, gleamed under the paper. The Gryffindor boys around him surrounded him instantly, wanting to see the new broom.

Hermione opened her own package, pulling out a very fancy looking book. The leather of the cover had an intricate design etched into it. The front had the Gryffindor crest in the centre with vines bordering all edges. Her name was in small, regal lettering at the bottom. She turned it over and opened it several times before finally figuring it out.

“It’s a notebook or a diary.” She chuckled as she flipped through the pages. “Looks like it’s charmed to have infinite space.”

Harry pulled his broom off the table and gathered both pieces of wrapping paper to throw away, looking through it one last time to check for a sender.

“Who sent these?” Neville touched the edge of Hermione’s diary, impressed.

“I’m not sure.” Harry shrugged.

“I might have an idea.” Hermione muttered. “Though I’m not sure how he did it.”

The two shared a look, Harry realizing who she meant immediately.

“Who knows.” Harry shook his head, amused.

“Miss Granger.” Dumbledore’s voice interrupted the chatter at the table.

“Yes, Headmaster?” Hermione tensed, wondering if they had perhaps messed up their mission somehow.

“Have you managed to fix you and Mister Potter’s problem successfully?” His tone was intentionally vague, and his smile never faltered.

“Er, Headmaster. We can discuss it in your office, if you’d like?” Hermione said in a hushed tone.

He shook his head. “It’s better I don’t know the details, I just wanted to make sure all was well.”

“Alright, well…It’s fixed, I think.” She offered a nervous smile.

“Excellent news.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Have a good day, everyone.”

With that, he left the Great Hall, his blue robe flowing behind him as he left.

Sam sat down between her brother and his best friend, looking between them strangely. “What problem did you two have?”

“Nothing.” They said in unison.

Sam’s eyebrow raised, she didn’t believe them for a second. “Okay, you both are going to tell me what’s going on right now or-”

“Hey Nev guess what we saw Sam doing last night.” Harry whipped to his other best friend who looked terrified at the sudden outburst.

“Um…I don’t know? I don’t think I want to either…” He looked between the three.

Sam was glaring at Harry so hard her entire face was turning red, Hermione was looking anywhere but the girl next to her, and Harry was staring at him like he was his only chance at survival.

“Yea. I don’t wanna know.” He got up to leave, and Harry followed him immediately.

Hermione shot up from her seat with her diary and made some excuse about class and dashed off after them. Sam frowned, but decided to let it go for now, she was hungry.

–

Later that night, Harry dropped Neville off at the common room saying he needed some time to walk around alone. He wandered aimlessly for a while, before noticing a nearby classroom door slightly ajar. He opened it to find a very pissed off looking Hermione scolding what appeared to be a crying house elf.

“You will not do that again in my presence, am I absolutely clear?” She said, taking a heavy book from the elf and throwing it behind her to drive her point.

Harry dodged as it came sailing past his head and closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“Harry!” Hermione stood, slightly spooked. “I was just telling Mister Dobby here not to hurt himself. I find it quite awful that he’s been taught to harm himself if he makes a mistake.”

“Dobby is sorry Mister Harry Potter sir! He really tried not to!” Dobby peeked out from behind his best friend looking extremely guilty.

“What are you doing here Dobby?” Harry asked, choosing to ignore the earlier commotion for now.

“Master is at the school in a meeting with the Headmaster about the young lord’s injury.” He explained nervously.

“Lucius is here about that again?” Harry scoffed.

“Not exactly…” Hermione fidgeted with her shirt-sleeve. “He’s here because I punched Draco last night.”

Harry fought back a laugh. “Draco ran to daddy about that? How did that conversation go, I wonder?” He laughed before turning to her once more. “Anyway, didn’t you fix his nose and everything? No damage?”

“Yes…though I guarantee that won’t mean anything in the long run. It’s my word against his and my word means nothing here, especially against his.”

Dobby looked really worried now, tugging on the hem of her robe. “Harry Potter’s missus Grangy must hide before he finds you! If he cannot find you, he cannot punish you!”

Hermione knelt beside the distraught house elf and patted him on the head gently. “Thank you for the warning, Dobby. I made a mistake, and I have to own up to it. If I suffer consequences, so be it.”

“Bullshit.” Harry muttered.

“Language, Harry James.”

“No, because you gave that prick way too light of a punishment considering his behavior to you this entire time we’ve gone to school together. If it were up to me, he’d have a lot more than a broken nose.” He seethed. “And he doesn’t even have a broken nose anymore! This is ridiculous.”

“I agree, but there’s nothing I can do. I can only hope Professor Dumbledore smooths things over with him enough to where my punishment will merely be detention.”

Harry blinked at her, shocked. “But…your perfect record…”

She shrugged, shocking him even more.

Dobby was crying softly into her shoulder now, his bandaged hands clenched tight at his sides.

“What happened to your hands, Dobby?” Harry asked.

Dobby looked at his hands then, a strange look crossing his face. “Dobby was bad. Dobby told Mister Harry Potter things he wasn’t supposed to know and now the diary is lost.”

“The diary?” Harry asked.

“Master’s diary.” Dobby sighed.

“Lucius had that diary?” Harry was putting the pieces together now, realizing this whole thing must have been a set up from the beginning. He had no way of knowing who the original target was, but it didn’t matter.

“Dobby, how do I set a house elf free?”

“House elves can be released from their duties if they are getting clothes Mister Harry Potter sir.” Dobby sniffled.

“So…If Lucius were to give you a piece of clothing, you would be free?”

He nodded, his big glassy eyes looking almost hopeful for once.

“What are you getting at?” Hermione asked from the ground.

Harry smirked. “Both of you follow me.”

–

“Mister Malfoy! Excuse me!” Harry jogged ahead from Hermione down the hall, package in hand.

“What do you want, boy?” Lucius Malfoy stopped, looking regal and dignified in his freshly pressed robes.

“I want to apologize for Draco getting hurt. I wanted to give this to him, but I know he’s at home recovering. Could you pass it along?” Harry put a very loosely wrapped package in the Malfoy Patriarch’s hands.

The blonde man sneered at him skeptically, looking between him and the package with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“Dobby. You take this.” He tossed the package to the house elf, and it came halfway unwrapped.

“This…is for Dobby to keep, Master?” Dobby asked in a small voice.

Lucius had already started walking away, and Harry made sure to back far enough away to make it not as obvious that he was still watching. 

“Draco won’t accept any gift from Potter. I don’t care what you do with it, but I don’t want to see it, or you, for that matter.” He stalked off, and Dobby held the now fully unwrapped package above his head triumphantly. 

A pair of Harry’s old socks unrolled, and Dobby leapt with joy. “Master has given Dobby a sock! Dobby is free!”

“What?” Lucius Malfoy whipped around, eyes wide.

Dobby smiled brightly. “Dobby is thanking you greatly, Malfoy, Sir!” And with that, he popped away as agreed upon earlier.

Harry rushed over to Hermione who was waiting nearby, an eager smile on her face.

“Did it work?” She whispered.

“Duh.” Harry tapped his temple. “I’m a genius.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Whatever, let’s go find Dobby.”

They rushed back to their original empty classroom near the common room. Dobby was waiting inside, proudly sporting his new socks.

“Mister Harry Potter, sir!” He jumped gleefully at him, wrapping his tiny arms around Harry’s leg.

“We did it Dobby, you don’t ever have to go back to those nasty people again!”

Dobby nodded vigorously.

“Dobby, would you like to remain a free elf?” Hermione asked tentatively. “I’ve never heard what happens to free house elves. Where do they go?”

Dobby seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Dobby could be working for Hogwarts. Most house elves aren’t free because they aren’t wanting to be, Missus Grangy. Dobby doesn’t know where to go.”

Hermione nodded along, wanting to make sure he had a plan before they left him to enjoy his newfound freedom.

“What if you work for me?” Harry asked.

Dobby looked up with hopeful eyes. “Work for you, Mister Harry Potter, sir? It’s Dobby's dream!”

Hermione fought back a laugh. It was strangely endearing how Dobby held Harry in such reverence. When other people did it to him she found it rather creepy, but Dobby was so wholesome about it, she couldn’t help but be amused.

“Yea, I mean…I don’t have much for you to do yet, but I'd be happy to do it if it made you happy.” Harry smiled.

Dobby started crying again as Harry asked for him to walk him through how to become bonded. Hermione stood apart from them both, watching. Harry sat down and repeated the incantation carefully after Dobby, granting his magic to him and accepting him as an official elf of house Potter. She watched as he comforted and encouraged Dobby as if he was a younger brother, and thought Harry was always really good at that. He had a habit of making people feel safe and at ease. She lost to the blush threatening to rise up her cheeks, realizing her earlier fears were indeed coming true.

She was falling helplessly in love with her best friend, and he wasn’t doing anything to help.

“Can you focus on Sirius for now, Dobby?” Harry said, breaking through her thoughts. “He's my god father, and I’m worried that he’s struggling out there on his own. Can you help make sure he’s eating and staying out of sight?”

Dobby popped off with an affirmative nod, intent on doing well, and Harry finally stood once more.

“What a character.” He sighed, looking at Hermione once more. “I’m sure he’ll be really helpful though. Oh, and I promise not to abuse our bond, I know how you feel about magical creatures being mistreated.” He made a few steps toward her, placing his hand on her shoulder as he spoke.

Hermione couldn’t help it, she laughed nervously, cursing internally when words didn’t really process enough to come out properly. “Right!” Was all she managed to say before giving up.

“Hey, your face is flushed again, I think you really might be getting sick from the cold.” Harry frowned, reaching to place his hand on her forehead now.

“Nope, just hot!” She backed so far away from him she was almost out the door. “I have to go to bed, Harry. Um, I'll see you…at breakfast?” She bolted, utterly humiliated.

Just what was happening to her? Why couldn’t she hold a conversation with Harry anymore? Why is it that the very thought of him made her sweaty and giddy? Her head swam with these thoughts as she walked too fast back to her room, ignoring everyone else on the way.

“Geez.” Harry sighed. “She must be really sick.”

–

The semester finished without much strife. Harry found himself enjoying his extra training sessions with McGonagall quite a bit, and had Hermione sit in on them with him now. 

Snape’s sessions were harder. He truly was exceptional at mind magic, almost as exceptional as he was at potion brewing, and Harry was suffering for it. Though his mental fortitude wasn’t weak, it definitely wasn’t strong enough to fend off someone of Voldemort’s caliber.

Dumbledore had been meeting with him separately now too, mostly to share stories of the past to get a better understanding of who Voldemort was, and why he was doing what he did. They discussed the things too, like Sirius and how well he was doing on the run. Dobby was keeping him fed and on track to reclaiming his lordship when he was ready.

The plan was to call on an old member of the order. Amelia Bones has personal ties with Sirius, though Harry doesn’t quite know what that entails. Apparently, Dumbledore was confident they could convince her of Sirius’s innocence, and she could in turn convince the ministry to hold a trial. They had begun the excruciating process of planting the seeds for this mission, but it looked promising so far.

Now, Harry walked outside the grounds of Hogwarts, the crunch of the snow under his feet the only sound he could hear. He was heading back to the castle to get ready for the party Neville had invited him to.

He made his way through the mostly empty halls, saying hi to a few friends as he passed. When he entered the common room finally, he saw Hermione curled up on the couch with Crookshanks in her lap.

“Hey.” He said, moving to stand in front of her.

“Hi.” She smiled, placing the book she had open down on the arm rest. “You’re not dressed?”

He shrugged. “I still have an hour or so. What did your parents end up deciding about their trip.”

“Oh, well, mum really wanted to visit Australia, but it's just not a good time for me to go. I’m fine at the castle for an extra month, and Sam said I could stay in her room over Christmas and New Year’s.”

Harry nodded. “I wish you could come with Nev and I. He’s already made it sound like the most god-awful experience ever, so I’m not expecting anything.”

“She could, if she wanted.” Neville’s voice cut through from the staircase.

He stood in a very smart-looking navy suit, fidgeting with his cufflinks nervously. 

Hermione made a face. “Isn’t the whole point of these events that they’re super exclusive to purebloods and whatnot?”

“I mean, sure. But, if Harry Potter brought a friend to a gala partially funded by his family’s contributions, no one’s going to bat an eye.” He looked between the two of them nervously. “The more the merrier really, if you don’t have any plans, you really should come. Tyler’s not able to come to this one, and I already know people are going to be trying to talk to Harry the whole time. Maybe with two of us blocking him from view he won’t be as bothered.”

Hermione sighed. “I would love to come, but what would I wear?”

“You don’t have a single dress in your trunk?” Harry raised a brow.

“I have plenty of skirts, no dresses though.” 

“Does Olivia have any?” Neville asked. “You guys are about the same size, and we can always transfigure it a little.”

“Ooh good idea.” She shot up, startling Crookshanks. “Sorry Crooks, be right back.”

She dashed up the stairs, and Neville dragged Harry up as well, forcing the boy to start getting ready.

Harry donned his black suit as quickly as possible, casting some spells to make it not wrinkle since he was sure he’d mess it up somehow between now and getting to the gala. His mum had sent a pair of silver cufflinks and a watch to match, so he put those on as well.

“You have got to do something to your hair, mate.” Neville tossed him a hairbrush when he came back into the room.

“You of all people should know nothing tames this mess.” Harry shot a glare.

“Your bed head is legendary, but surely we can use some of Tyler’s potions to make it stick down a little.”

Harry shook his head, but went back into the bathroom to try anyway. Once he got it mostly combed back and had sprayed himself with some of Tyler’s fancy cologne, he came back out for his final judgement.

“Well?” He said, spinning and holding out his arms so Neville could see.

Neville studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed from intense focus. “It’ll do.”

They walked down the stairs and waited for the final member of their trio. Neville’s grandmother was set to arrive in thirty minutes to pick them up. 

“You think she found a dress?” Neville muttered from the couch.

Harry played with Crookshanks nearby, letting the orange cat chase a toy he was levitating around the rug with magic. “Hopefully. I’d much rather go with her than without.”

Neville nodded seriously. “Honestly, she’ll probably be more informed about this stuff than most people, so we should be safer with her.”

“Sure, but I’m more interested in her lethal glare she can use to dissuade annoying people from talking to us all night.” He chuckled. “Forget the damsel in distress, I’m the damsel and we need her to rescue me.”

Neville smirked. “Oh yes, the poor frail damsel who can’t chase away his adoring fans. What ever would he do without his strong, protective five-foot nothing guardian?”

“I’ll have you know, I'm five one now, thank you very much.” Hermione stood on the stairs, arms crossed.

Olivia was behind her, laughing. Harry and Neville’s ears both flushed at having been caught.

“I’ll not be saving you boys with my powers at all tonight, thank you.” She shook her head.

Harry smiled. “Oh no, Neville, we’re gonna die.” He made a big show of clutching his heart as if offended by her lack of enthusiasm to help him.

“Eh, I’ll survive. You might not though, so good luck.” He clapped him on the back twice.

“Boys, seriously, don’t you have to leave in like twenty minutes?” Olivia sighed.

“We’ve been waiting on ‘Mione!” Neville whined. “Can we leave now?”

Harry patted Crookshanks' head one last time before really looking over at Hermione. Olivia held her arm as she walked down the stairs in a pair of borrowed black heels. She wore a knee length red dress that fit perfectly, and Lavender had clearly worked some hair magic–excuse the pun–as it now stood in perfectly shiny curls down her back. She’d done a touch of makeup it seemed, mascara and maybe some blush. He smiled, she looked beautiful.

“Hey, bird-brain, wake up!” Olivia waved at him exasperatedly. “A gentleman escorts the lady he begged to go to the gala with, usually.”

Harry frowned, he didn’t beg her to go, but he had brought it up originally. He stepped towards her, offering his arm.

Olivia fought back a laugh. She’d been joking of course, but he didn’t have to know that. Hermione was glaring daggers at her as she begrudgingly took his arm and made it all the way down the stairs.

“Of course, you’re right, Liv.” Neville scooped Hermione’s other arm into his own and smiled broadly at the two girls. “We’ll make sure she’s treated to the proper gala experience all night, won’t we Harry?”

Harry nodded, a little confused, but agreeing with the sentiment at least. “Obviously. We’re proper gentlemen after all, nothing to be worried about.”

Hermione scoffed, already knowing she would be absolutely done with their antics by the end of the night. 

They said goodbye to Olivia and headed out to meet Neville's gran in Dumbledore’s office. He was kind enough to let them use the floo.

–

“Well, you all look perfectly suitable.” Nev’s gran looked them over once they arrived at Longbottom manor.

The three teens smiled and waited for instructions. They would be apparating in a few moments, but Harry and Hermione’s parents had requested pictures, so Neville’s poor Grandmother was tasked with making them sit through the desired amount of photographic evidence of this event.

When they finally left, Harry was already tired.

–

The banquet hall they currently sat in was bustling with high-ranking and important-looking people. Lords and ladies dressed in their finest, here to mingle and chat with other high-ranking people. Harry found it just as boring as it sounded. Hermione, at least, seemed entertained with simply watching the overly pompous snobs interact with each other. Neville looked just about bored to tears, and his gran was off chatting with her old circles. 

“Ugh, trouble at twelve o’clock.” Neville muttered.

Harry looked straight ahead, noticing the Malfoy family immediately. Draco stood between both of his parents, the picture of elegance. His suit was dark grey, with iceblue accents. Harry might have complimented him on the expensive look, had he not been scowling at him for Merlin knows how long across the room.

Harry sighed, shifting closer to Hermione. “Five knuts says he comes up and makes a scene for daddy to witness and fix.”

Hermione shook her head. “That’s not a bet worth taking, that’s basically law for him. He must cry and whine about something.”

Harry snickered, and when he glanced back up, the young lord was indeed moving closer.

“What’s she doing here?” The question came out with so much venom Harry was surprised he didn’t start melting.

Neville put a hand around her shoulder protectively. “She’s with us, Malfoy, and you’ll do well not to mess with her tonight.”

“Save your petty drama with us for school. Better yet, save it entirely, this act is really getting tired.” Harry’s eyes narrowed, he was serious.

Draco seemed to fumble for words, glancing around every few seconds.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, reaching for Harry’s hand under the table.

“Whatever! Just- just…keep an eye on her.” He was glancing around nervously, as if expecting someone to appear. “It’s not the safest place for someone like her to be.”

He spun on his heel and fled after that, leaving a very confused trio behind.

“The hell was he on about?”

“Language, Harry.”

“Who knows.” Neville relaxed back into his chair. “I need to use the loo, I’ll be back.”

“Sure, mate.”

Harry and Hermione talked about school and whatever else came to mind for a while after that. Neville had been stopped by his gran to speak to some acquaintances, and Hermione was finally becoming as bored as the rest of them.

“Ugh, I’m parched.” She mumbled.

“I’ll bring you something to drink.” Harry stood, grateful for something to do.

As he stood in front of the table in line to request some drinks, he heard a commotion over by where they had been sitting. He looked around, confused, Hermione wasn’t at their table any longer. He set the glasses down and called her name twice, wondering where she could have gone. Then, he saw Draco exit the hall out of a door near their table.

“The hell?” He muttered, stalking after him.

Had he done something to her? He was being extremely suspicious earlier. Harry wrenched the door open, realizing it led to a small garden. He trained his ears to the quiet of the night, hearing voices nearby. Hermione’s voice stood out and he followed it immediately.

He heard what appeared to be an extremely agitated Hermione, and two men.

“I told you to leave me alone.” She said at an awkwardly loud volume, as if trying to make it known that she was there.

Harry picked up his pace, his boots kicking the powdery snow as he went.

“No, no we can’t do that sweetheart.” A man said. 

Harry felt a chill run down his spine, breaking out into a run to get around the corner. His wand was already in his hand as he skidded into view of the situation.

“Stupefy! Stupefy!” A fourth voice came from nearby.

Harry whipped around, wand pointed at the new person. Draco Malfoy stood with his wand pointed at where the two men sat in a crumpled heap. Hermione had her back pressed into a wall, looking a little afraid but mostly disgusted.

Harry didn’t lower his wand, side-stepping until he stood in front of Hermione. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the garden. Draco watched them go, his wand long-since back in his pocket. They didn’t say a word to each other, just held the other in a hard, calculating stare.

“What happened?” Harry whispered as he pulled her behind a pillar back inside.

“Those idiots pulled me outside with them as soon as you got up from the table, placed a silencing spell on me until we got out here. I tried to pull my wand but one of them had my wrist.” She looked mostly afraid now, recalling the details.

Harry reached for her arm gingerly, pulling back her sleeve to reveal the start of a bruise on her right wrist. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone, it won't happen again.” He looked around. “Maybe we should just go home, surely we’ve been here long enough.”

“No, it’s fine. These things are important for you to attend, Harry. I’m fine.” She grabbed his arm. “Just…let’s stick together, I guess Malfoy had a point earlier.”

“Malfoy…” Harry looked back at the door. “Why did he save you? I need to know, let’s see if he’s still out there.” He pulled out his wand again and led her back outside.

They passed the same wall where they had been moments before. The two men that had taken Hermione were gone, but Draco was not. He stood a ways away, talking agitatedly with someone. Harry couldn’t see very well because the other person was blocked by a wall. He stepped closer, almost revealing himself, when Malfoy was slapped across the face, hard.

Hermione gasped, a hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god?” She whispered.

Malfoy was hit three more times, each strike more brutal than the last. Lucius Malfoy was now in full view of them, striking his only son with the sharp end of his cane over and over again. Against his will, harry was brought back to his time at the Dursleys'. Without thinking, he cast a spell at the wall across from them, alerting Lucius just enough that he stopped his onslaught of strikes. He left him on the floor, heading back inside and telling him to have a house elf take him home.

Harry started running as soon as the door closed, and Hermione was right behind them. Malfoy shivered pathetically on the snow covered ground, a mess of bruises and cuts. Harry realized he’s lost his earlier coat, and saw the hundreds of lashes across his back through the thin material of his shirt.

Hermione cast several charms to close the cuts and ease the pain while Malfoy scrambled away from them, fighting tears and snot that threatened to fall.

“Draco!” Harry dropped to the ground, grabbing both of the boy’s arms as gently as he could. “We’re trying to help you!”

“I don’t need your help Potter!” He hissed. “And I certainly don’t need hers!”

“Alright that’s enough of your act.” Hermione seethed. “You’re going to allow me to fix you up and then you’re going to go on your way. We’ll pretend we didn’t see anything if that’s what you wish, but you helped me earlier, so consider this a favor returned.”

Malfoy kicked at the ground one last time, settling into it with a sigh so heavy, Harry thought he’d started crying for real. Hermione cast her spells and conjured a coat, letting Harry wrap it around Malfoy's shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Harry muttered.

“You’re sorry. Seriously? I don’t need your pity, Potter.” He scoffed.

“It’s not pity, it’s empathy. I…was also hit as a child.” Harry looked at the ground. “I got out though. I hope you can too.”

Malfoy looked at him strangely, perhaps shocked by this revelation. He didn’t say anything though.

“We’ll go now. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do for you, Malfoy.” Hermione muttered, her eyes scrutinizing him.

She of course hated that he had obviously been abused his whole life, but was unable to fully feel anything other than anger at him for his treatment of other people. She had somewhat of an explanation now, but that didn’t excuse his behavior.

Malfoy stood, a limp still slightly visible in his right leg.

Harry and Hermione went back inside, but she could have sworn she’d heard a "Thank you.” from the shivering blonde boy as they did.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXIX~

~Winter Changes~

“Harry.” Neville called out from a few feet down the hall. “Where have you two been?”

He looked between the two of them, reading a strange energy.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly. “How much longer are we set to stay?”

“We can leave now, I’ll go tell gran.” He seemed to accept that they were just tired and maybe uncomfortable.

Neither of them knew how to start that conversation. What happened? That was a great question. They’d witness Malfoy break character several times over tonight, and none of it made any sense. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand out of instinct, steadying her as she swayed from the guilt and confusion in her heels.

–

When they arrived back at Hogwarts, Neville had officially gone home for the Holidays. The common room was essentially empty, if anyone else was still here, they were asleep upstairs somewhere. Without really thinking, the two changed into pajamas and came back to their usual couch. 

“Why did he do that?” Hermione muttered after a while.

“Do what?”

“Save me. He’s been nothing but cruel to me since we met. Why now, why right then, would he decide I’m suddenly worth saving?”

“I don’t know…maybe even he’s not that cruel.” Harry shrugged. “We  have no idea what their plan was, maybe he knew something we didn’t.”

“Maybe…”

Harry shifted to rest his head on her lap, allowing Crookshanks to rest on his chest.

“It just doesn’t make sense. He’s always crying to daddy about random bullshit–” He paused to accept the language comment before continuing. “You’d think he’d either avoid him at all cost or at least not bother him with stupid stuff if that’s how he is behind closed doors.”

“I guess you really never know what’s going on in someone’s life…I can’t think of a logical explanation, but maybe that’s because there isn’t one. I can only hope he somehow randomly ends up choosing to become a better person when he stops letting his father control him…” She sighed.

“An unattainable dream, perhaps.” Harry chuckled. “But, then again, what do we know?”

A comfortable silence settled over them. They fell asleep on that couch, curled up on different corners. 

–

Sam sat at her vanity, drumming her fingers nervously. Harry wasn’t home from Hogwarts yet, he was planning on going to some gala with Neville. She was actually extremely grateful, because she was suffering from an unforeseen turn of events.

Months ago, she noticed a shift in Everette’s behavior. Subtle things, lingering looks and extra touches. She welcomed it as an innocent progression at first, and she was sure that that’s what it was. The problem was that now it was definitely not innocent on her end. She could tell he liked her back, she wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t doing anything about it. It’s not like she wanted anything crazy to happen, but an establishing of a label, a kiss, a hug—shouldn’t be too much to ask for, right?

She glanced at the clock. Two in the afternoon. He was supposed to be at her house any minute. They were going to the mall. They were going on a date. That’s what she kept calling it in her head, but there wasn’t anything different from their normal hangouts happening. It was driving her insane. The twins were so mean about it too, making bets about how long it would take for Everette to figure it out. Ten years was their current guestimate. She didn’t have ten years to wait though, and if he wasn’t going to do anything about it, then she would.

The only problem was…what exactly was she going to do?

“Sam!” Her mum’s voice cut through her inner monologue. “Everette’s here, love.”

“Thanks mum!” She raced out of her room, pausing just briefly at the door. 

She could see him through the warped glass of the door window. He stood a respectful distance from the door, apparently studying the sky. She took a deep breath then opened the door.

“Hey, Ev.” She said, locking the door behind her.

“Hi.” He smiled at her.

She fought back a groan. Here he was, standing so nicely outside her front door in his nice jeans and polo. He had his hands in his jacket pockets, and his smile never wavered even as she scrutinized him. It made her irrationally angry. He was probably thinking nothing but normal things, wondering where they might shop, or what they might eat. Meanwhile, she couldn’t lose the air of impurity around every thought she had about him. 

“Ready to go?” He motioned to the sidewalk.

She nodded, and off they went. The mall was a twenty minute walk from her house. Not short, but not necessarily long either. Plenty of time to fall into an existential crisis though. Her face burned as her mind kept racing. 

“Are you feeling sick at all? You’re awfully quiet.” He said, glancing down at her as they walked.

She shot a glare at him.

His smile fell a little and she fought an eye roll.

“Shut up.” She reached into his jacket pocket, yanking his hand out and lacing her fingers through his.

He said nothing, but squeezed her hand.

Unbeknownst to her, he was trying his very best to stay calm. He was grateful for the beanie currently covering his ears, because he was certain his ears were extremely red right now. At least he could blame his face being flushed on the light wind.

He glanced down at his not-girlfriend-girlfriend. Everyone knew that he liked her. He was pretty confident even she knew he liked her, but he just could not bring himself to do anything about it out of fear. What if he inadvertently pushed her away? Or, what if he confessed and she realized he wasn’t quite worth it and then he lost her completely. No, he much preferred keeping her at arms length. He chalked up her sudden desire to hold his hand as a sign that she was cold, despite them both wearing gloves.

–

It had been a few hours now, and the earlier awkwardness had been replaced with their normal comfortability, much to Everette’s delight and Sam’s dismay.

“Can I ask you something?” He said, taking a bite of the biscuit in his hand.

“You just did.” Sam deadpanned, feeling her heart rate quicken.

What did he want to ask? Was something finally happening?

He sat on a nearby bench. “Why don’t you like the chocolate biscuits.” He pointed at the bag in her hand.

A mix of mini biscuits of assorted flavors from a shop they frequented. She seethed for a moment, taken aback by the simplicity of the question.

“I do like them.” She sighed, sitting next to him. “But, they’re your favorite, so I let you have all of them.”

He smiled. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Yea, I really am.” She muttered.

“What?”

She felt her face flush, looking around absentmindedly. The area they were in was mostly empty, it was a Tuesday afternoon after all.

“I said, I probably am too nice to you.”

He chuckled. “Oh.”

Sam set the biscuits down, mentally wondering what exactly she liked about this man. Was he really this dense, or was she truly not communicating anything obvious enough?

“Everette.” She flicked the side of his head lightly. “What exactly is it gonna take?”

“What’s what going to take?” He blinked at her, confused.

She groaned, sitting into the bench and throwing her head back dramatically.

“Are you mad at me about something? I’m sorry, for whatever it was.” He laughed.

She whipped to face him, baffled. “Merlin’s sake, boy.”

He smiled uncomfortably now, wondering what she was so pissed off about.

“Listen, Sam. I don’t know–”

“Ugh!” She grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his lips.

It was so fast he wasn’t even sure it actually happened. As soon as their lips made contact she shoved him backward and stalked off to the parking lot.

“Sam? Sam!” He stumbled after her, leaving the bag of biscuits abandoned.

She walked faster, not listening.

“Sam, wait!” He ran ahead, catching up to her solely because his legs were longer.

“Go away. Now I’m actually mad at you.” She mumbled.

“Hang on, can we please talk about–” She started speeding off again and he grabbed her hand. “Sam! Come on, hear me out.”

They were in the nearby park now, surrounded by snow covered trees. Sam tried to break free from his grasp, fed up with his antics.

“Let go, Everett. I get it now, you clearly don’t want anything to do with me, so I’m leaving!" She sounded utterly exasperated now, and Everette was getting desperate.

“Just, listen to me!” He grabbed her other arm and spun her around to face him.

They stood like that for a second, eyes searching for the words neither of them were saying,

“Did you do that on purpose?” He practically whispered it, the puff of air from his breath hitting her cheek being one of the only reasons she’s known he said anything.

“Yes. Sor–mmph-”

She didn’t get to finish her apology, interrupted by his lips pressing into her own with an intensity she might have described as ravenous. She melted into it, pulling him closer with her arms around his neck. He moved his hand to her wait, moving until she had been softly pressed into a tree. His other hand gripped the icy bark of the tree as they stumbled.

Snow from the branches shook onto them, startling them out of the kiss. He shielded her from it as best as he could, pressing her into the tree fully now. They descended into giddy giggles then, laughing at the absurdity of their situation.

“Your clothes are gonna be soaked.” She said, scraping snow off his shoulders and beanie.

“It’s fine, I'll spell them dry when we’re back at yours.” He mumbled.

They looked at each other then, Everette backed up a few steps and helped her step out of the fallen snow. She left her hand in his, fully aware of how red her face must be by now.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat. “That’s not really what I wanted to do. Or, well I guess it is, but that’s not how I wanted it to happen?”

She touched his face with her gloved hand and shook her head. “Don’t, just don’t. I’m just glad you did anything.”

He felt his face flush. “I had a perfectly acceptable reason not to do anything, okay.”

“No, I know what your reason was and it’s bullshit, sorry.” She took her hand back from his, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s not bullshit, it’s perfectly reasonable fear–” She pecked him on the cheek, standing on tiptoe to reach.

“Ahem, like I was saying–” She pecked him on the nose this time, grabbing both sides of his face and pinching.

“Shut uuup.” She pulled him down, kissing him once more.

He relented, kissing her for a moment. “Okay, okay. I’m awful, I’m terrible. Can we please go back to your house so we can get dry clothes…?”

“Sure.” She smiled brightly, locking their fingers together once more and starting their quick-paced venture back home.

–

So, she was finally successful in causing something to happen. But now what? There was no dramatic confession, no sparks or fireworks. She liked kissing him. She liked it a lot actually. Still, she wondered what this meant for them.

He’d come inside for a minute to dry his clothes and left after talking with her parents for a while. She already missed him honestly, and wondered how soon she could see him again without arousing suspicion.

It had been a long time coming, with failed attempt after failed attempt of getting him to admit his crush all leading up to this, and she had to say, it was worth it. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell anyone about this. Definitely not Harry, he already knew too much and was already a pain in the ass about it.

She shuddered remembering the night he’d assumed she and Everette had been getting up to good in a broom closet. A broom closet! Who did he think she was? Was she in a broom closet with him? Yes. Does that mean what everyone seems to think it means? NO!

That night had been hectic and the emotional high had taken a crazy toll on her.

“You need to sit down somewhere for a second.” Everette had said when they left the Hospital Wing.

“I’m fine.” She said, fully lying.

Where was there to stop? They needed to get to their common rooms and avoid prefects. It couldn't be helped, she needed to power through. That’s when her legs gave out.

Everette caught her and opened the first door he saw nearby with his wand. He hurried her inside and propped her up against the wall. He cast several charms on the closet to avoid suspicion, then sat next to her crumpled frame.

“Hey, everyone is safe now. Your brother is fine, Jackson is fine. You did great.” He rubbed her back gently.

She fought the sobs bubbling up. “I shouldn't have left him and Hermione there. I know it was fine, but what if it wasn’t?”

Everette shook his head. “He knew what he was doing. You need to give him some more credit, that kid is incredibly powerful, okay? I love that you want to protect him, but he can protect himself now.”

She nodded, not really believing him though. “I think I mostly worry that if I really did have to protect him I wouldn’t be able to. You’re right, he is powerful, much more powerful than I’ll ever be. What if…when it came down to it, I couldn’t help him at all and made it worse.”

Everette tugged her hair gently, messing up the already messy ponytail. “Hey now, just because Harry has crazy merlin-level strength doesn’t make you not powerful. I’ve never doubted you having my back in a duel.”

She laughed, the tears escaping finally as she did. “That’s because I can beat your ass no matter what. I’ve literally never lost to you.”

He frowned and tugged her hair harder this time.

“Hey, ow!”

“Deserved.”

“Prick.”

“Sure.”

They’d sat there in silence for a while after that, and then he’d dropped her at the common room once they knew the path was clear. She understood how the imagery must have been confusing, but really, truthfully nothing had happened.

But now? Something had definitely happened. She rolled over in her bed, ashamed by the absolutely shameless grin that her face had been stuck on ever since the events of the afternoon.

Hermione was going to die when she found out.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXX~

~When Things Settle~

Harry woke up with Crookshanks crushing his throat. He shifted, trying to get him off when he realized how ridiculous he must currently look. His legs were dangling off the side of the couch, and his head was resting on Hermione’s right calf, which he could only hope wasn’t hurting her. He tried his best to swing himself up without waking either of them up, but was unsuccessful.

“Ah, ouch.” Hermione mumbles sleepily, flexing her leg.

“Sorry, ‘Mione.” He stretched up, yawning.

“Why are you so heavy?” She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

He didn’t warrant that with a response, choosing to go upstairs and get changed instead.

When he came back down, Hermione was sitting on the couch, textbook in hand. She was still in her pajamas. Black shorts and a red shirt. He fought back a laugh when he noticed how insane her hair currently looked.

Hermione hadn’t noticed him coming down the stairs, too lost in the notes she was currently scribbling down in her journal from Sirius. Harry snuck past her and to the dining hall, grabbing two plates of breakfast and a mug of hot chocolate.

“Cocoa?” He placed the mug on the table next to her with the plate of eggs and toast nearby.

“Ooh, thanks.” She picked it up and sipped from it cheerfully.

He settled next to her, eating his own breakfast in silence.

“I’m going home soon. What are your plans for the week?” He asked eventually.

“Oh, nothing fun. I need to catch up on some extra studying for McGonagall…I might run drills with Lupin if he’s here.” She closed her book softly.

Harry chuckled. “You like running drills with Lupin.”

“He’s a great teacher.”

“I know.” He smiled. “And I can tell it’s working, cause you’re much faster this year than last year.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the subtle jab.

“Not as fast as me, of course. Never as fast as me.”

“I’m not doing this with you.” She stood and made towards the stairs.

“I’m just saying, ‘Mione, I could beat you in a race with my eyes closed.” 

She cut her eyes at him, hating that she was successfully baited. “I don’t know…I think you’d fall over so many times I’d win before you ever got past the start. Considering how clumsy you are and all.” 

“I’m not clumsy.” He frowned.

She shrugged dramatically. “If that’s what you think.”

“Let’s do it, let’s race on the grounds.”

She laughed, a dry cold sound. “It’s snowing, Harry.”

“So?”

He was up from his seat, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

“Ugh.” She jogged up the stairs. “Fine, but I'm not losing.”

–

Harry stood at his hastily drawn start line, eagerly awaiting her arrival.

When she joined with the appropriate amount of layers for the cold, he was already in position.

“Okay, so you’re doing this with your eyes closed?” She asked, standing lazily at the start.

He faltered for a second. “I can.”

“If you don’t think you can win like that, I understand.” She shrugged.

“No, no…hang on.” He conjured a bandana, wrapping it around his eyes loosely.

“We’re running to that tree, right?” She asked.

“If you’re pointing at the tree that I clearly marked with a finished line…yes.” 

“Just making sure you know where you’re going.” She snickered.

They called start and broke out into a sprint. Harry’s foot caught in the snow immediately, and with his vision blocked, he only barely caught himself from falling face first into it. He could hear Hermione’s laughing getting further and further away. He laughed too, ripping off the bandana and stumbling after her.

A devious grin crossed his face as he gained on her little by little, calling his wand to his hand and casting a breathless tripping jinx. She dodged it, but still faltered, and they were now neck and neck.

“You-!” She looked at him between strides, fury and joy clashing in her eyes.

He cast another one, this one grazing past her ankle. She jumped, and changed her trajectory, running in a more crazed fashion. She was almost to the tree. Harry could have let her win. She would have, had he played fair.

Instead, he made a flying leap, tackling her into the snow so hard they rolled down the adjacent hill, missing the tree completely. They laid in a pile of snow and laughter, fighting pettily. Hermione swatted the back of his head and tried to pull herself out of the snow and make it to the finish line. She fell twice.

“Ugh, you are such a-”

“I'm a what?” He cut her off smugly, now standing above her.

She glared from the ground, debating whether or not to kick him in the shin.

“No, go on. What am I?” He stuck out his hand to help her up.

“You’re a massive prick.” She enunciated the word as she regained her balance using his arms. “And you’re also stunned. Stupefy.”

He didn’t even see her wand out, he was just frozen instantly. Hermione climbed the small hill and placed her hand gently on the tree before releasing the spell.

“Oh, come on!” He yelled from below. “You stunned me to win?”

“You cheated three times!” She called back. “I win no matter how you spin this, Potter.”

“Okay, that’s it. Now you’ve done it, Granger.” He smiled, shaking his head tauntingly. “It is so on.”

They spent the rest of the morning chasing each other through a magically driven snow fight. By the time they returned to the castle they were soaked through with snow, only surviving because of the warming and drying charms they kept having to replace. Harry went home with bruises to show for their battle, that girl had no mercy.

–

“Harry, honey, how are you?” Elise stepped into the living room as he arrived through the floo.

“Hi, mum.” He dropped his bags on the ground and ran to give her a quick hug.

“You need a shower.” She pulled back laughing. “You smell like outside.”

“Hermione and I had a snow fight.” He chuckled. 

“Oh man, how are you taking the loss?” Sam laughed from the kitchen table. “I know she destroyed you.”

“I’ll have you know, it was a very close fight.” Harry scoffed.

“A close fight that you lost.” Nick nodded along seriously.

“Guys, I'm sure Harry tried his hardest. He could have almost won!” Elise joined in, ruffling his hair.

“Wow.” He shook his head in mock disbelief. “I get no support in this family.”

“Whatever kid, please go shower. I can smell you from here.” Sam flipped a page in her book with one hand and rested the other over her nose and mouth.

He stuck his tongue out at her and collected his things to do as he was told.

“And be fast about it, Dad bought us a new game and we’ve been waiting to play it with you!” Sam called just  as he closed his door.

He put his bags and clothes away and stepped into the shower, grateful for the hot water. When he was certain he didn’t smell like sweat and snow any more, he pulled on some jeans and a sweater and headed back out to the living room. 

He played the new game with his dad and Sam, and they had dinner later that night. He found Elise doing the dishes after and went to help, intent on talking to her about something important.

“I’ve got silverware.” He said, taking the tray over to the designated drawer.

“Thanks, little man.”

They finished the dishes in silence, and Harry caught her eye as she was about to put up the last two mugs.

“Hot chocolate?” She asked, pausing with them halfway in the cabinet.

“Hot chocolate.” 

She made their drinks and sat on the couch with him, wondering if something was up.

“I’m sure Dumbledore told you everything about Sirius.” Harry started.

“I’ve been informed.” Her tone carried an air of annoyance—not at him, he assumed, but rather the situation.

“We were all wrong about him.” Harry sighed.

“I know, and I'd always had my doubts, but I should have questioned more. I’m sorry, Harry.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly, when all of this first started coming up, I got really worried that you would make it your mission to find him. I had no idea if he was really innocent or not, and…well, Azkaban can change a person…”

“Well, you weren’t entirely wrong about that.” Harry chuckled. “No one could have done anything differently, honestly. It’s no one’s fault but the Ministry.”

“I suppose.” She sighed. “Dumbledore said it’s been handled, but I worry for him still.”

“He’s fine, I sent Dobby with him.” 

“Dobby? That crazy little elf?” Elise looked aghast. “Isn’t he the Malfoy's house elf?”

Harry smirked. “Not anymore.”

Elise looked wildly confused.

“It’s a long story, but basically he’s my elf now.” He explained. “Actually, I haven’t checked on him in a while, one second.”

He cleared his throat before calling out to him.

“Mister Harry Potter sir is calling Dobby?” He appeared instantly.

“Hi, Dobby. How are you and Sirius?” He asked the much healthier looking elf.

“We is being okay, Mister Harry Potter sir. Buckbeak has been set free in the wild and Dobby is feeling much better. Master Sirius is recovering from illness. There’s not much Dobby can do for him without medicine.” The little elf explained passionately, guilt evident in his big, glassy eyes.

“Sirius is sick?”

Dobby nodded vigorously. “It’s being too cold in the safe house, and Master Sirius still can’t do magic.”

Harry looked at his mum, a guilty expression forming. “Um…”

“Nick!” Elise called out to her husband, already knowing what he was going to ask.

“Can you bring Sirius here, Dobby? My dad can help heal him.”

“Right away, Mister Harry Potter sir!” He popped out instantly, eager to complete his task.

“Alright, Mister Harry Potter sir, let’s see if we can help your poor godfather.” Elise shook her head, a small smile on her face.

She got up to explain what they needed to Nick, and minutes later, they had all gathered in the living room once more. Sirius was laid out on the couch, feverish and shaking with hacking coughs. Nick prescribed him several potions, the most important being the one to immediately lower his fever and ease the symptoms, the rest to begin healing the lasting damage from Azkaban. Harry sat on the floor near the couch, slipping off the man’s dirty boots and Scourgifying them before putting them near the door.

“So, that’s who we saw that night in the forest?” Sam whispered. “And he’s not crazy?”

“I didn’t say that, exactly.” Harry chuckled softly. “He might be a little batty, but he’s no murderer, and he really meant no harm to us. He already feels so bad about hurting Jackson he’s been sending money straight into his account for the past months to cover any and all school costs.”

“Where’s he getting the money?” Sam asked.

“It’s his family’s money. He doesn’t like using it because he doesn’t affiliate with them any more, but he’d gladly spend it on funding a non-pureblood’s education any day.”

Sam nodded. “How devious. I like this man.”

“So, what’s dad thinking?” Harry asked when Elise joined them again.

“He’s staying here for at least tonight. We’ve alerted Dumbledore and some of the order. We need him alive and well for our plan to work.”

“He can stay in my room.” Harry suggested. “He can sleep on the extra mattress Paul used to use.”

“We’ll see about that tomorrow. For now, we’re leaving him right where he is to better recover.”

“Alright.”

Harry went to bed that night wondering if Sirius was really okay. He looked beyond sick at this point, and he was so frail now. He’d seen old pictures of him, he used to be tall and lean-looking. Photos of him and his father, and even Lupin circled his mind. He could tell Sirius didn’t lose his troublemaker side, but he’d certainly lost his youthful spark, and he wasn't even that old. He shook his head, it was a total waste of a good man’s life, and he felt so terribly guilty that he would never get those years the ministry had stolen from him back.

–

“Harry?” Sirius grumbled when he awoke from his potion induced slumber.

The boy in question came beside him with a glass of cold water.

“Good morning.” He smiled, handing him the cup.

“What happened?” Sirius took it from him, downing it gratefully.

“You were sick, Sirius. Still are, in some ways.” Nick said as he entered behind his son.

Sirius nodded, letting his eyes adjust to his new surroundings. “How long have I been out?”

“You got here last night, and it’s half-past four.” Harry chuckled. “I guess you were really tired.”

“I still am, somehow.” Sirius sighed, getting up slowly from the couch. 

“You should stay down as much as possible while the potions are working.” Nick advised, catching the man’s arm as he stumbled.

“I need to go on back, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Sirius shook his head.

“Oh, we’ll have none of that.” Elise admonished from the doorway. “You’re stuck here until your doctor gives you the all-clear, and he takes his job very seriously.”

Nick nodded, handing him another potion to layer. “You can drink this and take a shower, I’m sure you’ve been dying to have one.”

Sirius looked about ready to cry. “I have, I really have.”

“Great.” Nick laughed. “‘Cause you need one.”

Sirius laughed too, letting Nick lead him to the guest bath.

“Can he really stay?” Harry smiled at his mum.

“As long as it takes to get him back on his feet, we’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks, mum.” He gave her a hug as he left, eager to let Hermione know about “Padfoot’s” recovery.

–

Sirius joined them for dinner that night dressed in some of Nick’s old clothes. His hair was slightly less messy and he looked a whole lot less grimy than before. Harry could now tell he used to be handsome, probably.

“I just want to thank you again, Miss Elise. I really am grateful, and when we get everything settled, I swear I’ll repay you ten—no, a hundred-fold.” He sat nervously at the kitchen table while she served him dinner.

“Sirius…we’ve already talked about this. This isn’t a favor to be repaid. It’s important to us that you get to experience the life that was taken from you to the best of your ability. Part of that is spending time with your godson. Consider this as the time to get to know him, not the time where you gained months of debt.” Elise patted his shoulder gently.

“Yea, Sirius.” Harry smiled. “My parents are just really nice like that, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“So, like, you’re an animagus?” Sam asked after a beat of silence.

“Sure am.” He nodded, taking a bite of chicken.

“That’s so cool, how did that happen?” She was on the edge of her seat, eager to know the story.

“Well, you saw what happened to Moony—sorry, to Professor Lupin that night.”

“Sort of, not really. Harry said he was a werewolf?” She looked a little skeptical, but her brother wasn't one to lie.

“He is indeed. He was cursed with that fate as a mere boy, and Dumbledore allowed him to attend out of the kindness of his heart. When we discovered his little problem, we devised a way to help him out.” He spoke of the time fondly, clearly enjoying the memories. “So, we all became animagi. Me and James…and Peter. We would go out with him on full moons and keep him company.”

“That’s so cool.” Harry was intrigued now too. “My dad was an animagus too?”

“Oh yea. Your dad was a magnificent looking stag, that’s why he’s called Prongs.” Sirius chuckled. 

“A stag, a dog, and a rat. Quite the group.” Elise smiled. “You guys were so close.”

“We were brothers.” He shrugged, moving food around on his plate dejectedly. “We still are…”

“Can I become an animagus?” Sam asked, a hopeful glint in her eye.

Elise shook her head. She was grateful her children loved to learn, but there was a limit to what they could do at their age.

“I mean, how old are you?” Sirius glanced over her.

“I’m going into my sixth year at Hogwarts, I’m nearly sixteen.” She smiled proudly.

Sirius studied for a moment, before reaching his hand out to her. “May I?”

She looked at him strangely, but allowed him to take her hand. He placed them palm to palm, aligning their fingertips and holding them still for a moment.

“You might.” He said after a few seconds. “I sense a potential. I’m not as good at feeling the spirit as Lupin or James were, but it wouldn’t be impossible.”

Elise looked rather surprised. It was technically possible for anyone to become an animagus, but it was still considered a rare ability. To succeed, you had to be well attuned and aligned with your spirit and magic, as well as go through the rigorous ritual of it all.

Sam looked elated, how cool was that?

Harry looked a little jealous. “What about me, Sirius?”

Sirius repeated the process of sensing for Harry’s spirit, and the table watched with baited breath.

“I’m…not really sure honestly.” He looked at his godson strangely. “Your magic is incredibly strong, I sense traces of similarity to both of your parents, but your soul feels…strange.”

“My soul feels ‘strange’?”

“It feels as though something is blocking or…tainting it somehow. I don’t know. Like I said, I was never very good at this.” He shrugged.

Harry looked a little concerned. His soul felt tainted? What did that even mean? 

Just then, Nick walked through the front door. He carried a fresh batch of potions for Sirius in his hands, and set them in front of the man before assuming his seat next to his wife.

“Thank you, Nick.” He took them one by one, chasing them down with the juice Elise had poured for him.

–

That night, Sirius camped out on the floor of Harry’s room. The mattress had been made up with Harry’s old superhero sheets, and Sirius couldn’t have been happier.

“Oh, look at that.” The older man laughed as he flipped through one of the old photo books Harry had. “See, this was the day we’d trapped Snivellus in that classroom before class. The door was rigged to spray nasty smelling stuff if he tried to do anything to it.”

Harry laughed awkwardly, that sounded kind of cruel. “Snivellus?”

“Your bloody Professor. Snape.” He shook his head like the very thought of that man grossed him out. “I never liked him. He was weirdly obsessed with Lily, but they were friends and James hated that. I just went with the flow.”

He paused over the picture of them in their school uniforms. Lily had her arms wrapped around James, her head resting on his chest. Sirius was standing between Moony and another girl, and Peter was off to the side. 

“I guess we probably should have been nicer to him back then. I don’t know. We felt justified at the time, and seeing that he still acts like a right prick to his students helps a little. I can’t help but wonder if we maybe accidentally made his issues much worse down the line.”

Harry smiled awkwardly. He knew what it was like to be bullied. They most definitely had made Snape’s life worse, though he wasn’t sure how differently the man really would have turned out either way.

“He is a prick most of the time.” Harry shook his head. “But…somewhere under all that grease and moping, I think he really does like to teach. Except, I think he would rather teach capable potioneers, rather than teenagers. He’s a lot easier to handle in our tutoring sessions.”

“Well, no shock there. You are definitely a capable student. Even if he doesn’t like the parts of you that remind him of James, I’ve always seen more of your mother in you. Those that knew them well would agree, and he knew her very well.” 

He got sort of misty-eyed as he spoke, and Harry wondered if he would witness his godfather cry again. He wasn’t sure how to handle that.

“You’re so similar to them. It’s uncanny.” He shook his head forcefully. “Of course, now I see Elise and Nick in you as well. You laugh like him, make the same faces she does. It’s crazy what spending so much time with a person will do. I’m glad you got to grow up with them as your parents, Harry.”

Harry felt like he might be the one who should start crying. The emotions the older man was battling shone through his words spectacularly clear. He just couldn’t shake the guilt of not having been there for him to fulfill his role as his godfather.

“You know…” Harry cleared his throat. “Sometimes, McGonagall says the man I most remind her of…is you.”

Sirius smiled then, his eyes glistening slightly with unshed tears. “Does she?”

“Says we were both a right pain.” Harry sighed.

Sirius laughed—a hearty, bark-like noise—it echoed through his room. Harry laughed too, putting the book away and settling on his bed.

“I can’t wait to be free so I can finally start causing all the mischief I had planned for you.” He sighed wistfully. “It’s going to be wicked.”

“I’m sure the adults will be thrilled.” Harry smirked.

“Probably not…” He returned the smirk. “But, you’ll be too busy having fun to care.”

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXXI~

~Nightmares and Promises~

The air was cold. Freezing, honestly. The stone underneath Harry’s feet was slick with an unidentified substance. He took cautious steps forward. He had a goal, a task—something to complete, but what? His vision was blurred by a vignette of darkness that seemed to grow larger with each second. 

“Harry!” 

He heard someone shout his name from afar. But who? Where? Why? His vision seemed even worse now, and he began to stumble in no direction in particular, tripping and fumbling for his balance the whole way. A faint shuffling could be heard nearby, and someone speaking—just a faint whisper, words Harry couldn’t possibly make out. 

“Harry!”

There it was again, that name. His name…or was it? He wasn’t sure anymore. His hands and knees connected to the hard stone floor, and he suddenly realized what he had been walking through. He brought his hand to his face, studying the deep red color of it. Blood. The floor was covered in blood.

Everything in his body screamed at him to get up and run. To get as far away from the blood-soaked room and the screaming and the darkness. He tried to listen, he really did. He willed his legs to move, his hands to pull him up, or even his head to turn in the opposite direction, but nothing succeeded.

“Help!” He tried, but it was nothing more than a weak, garbled noise.

He opened his mouth to try again, but was stopped by liquid rushing up his throat. Blood poured from his mouth, dripping onto the already soaked ground. He reached to cover his mouth, but it was no use, the blood now gushed from his nose and his eyes. A scream echoed off the walls, though he couldn’t tell if it was his own or someone else’s.

“Harry.” A man’s voice accompanied the screaming, beckoning him.

Harry clawed at his face and chest, flailing on the ground wildly.

“Harry.” The voice dragged each syllable, almost mocking him. “Get up, Harry. Can’t you handle this much?”

Harry could see him now, a muddled outline of a man above him. His vision was stained red, but he thought the man looked somehow familiar.

“Help…me…” He managed, reaching for the man.

“I cannot.” The man laughed—a sick, twisted sound. “Or perhaps I should say, I will not.”

Harry collapsed hopelessly on the floor, feeling his lungs fill with the metallic-tasting blood.

“Harry!” A woman’s voice now, shrill and fearful sounding.

“Harry.” The man interrupted her, stepping on the back of Harry’s neck with just enough pressure to steal the already scarce air he had.

“Wake up, Harry!” He heard the woman scream.

“Shh, Harry do not listen to her, you are perfectly fine where you are. No need to leave.”

“Harry James Potter!” The voice changed—now one he recognized, a man he knew, but who?

“Shut it, you fool!” The man standing on his neck hissed to no one in particular.

“Wake up, Harry. Now!” He felt his body shake violently, and the man suffocating him seemed to disappear.

“Help me!” He tried again, his voice clearer now, the blood dissipating.

“Please! Help me!” He clawed at the ground, seeing a light overtaking the cold darkness.

“HARRY!” Sirius shook him awake, a panicked look in his eyes. “Harry, look at me!”

“Sirius?” Harry reached for the man’s hands on his shoulders, his vision still not fully recovered.

He was soaked with sweat, but shivering as if he were freezing. He could feel the tremble in his hands as he reached helplessly for his godfather.

Sirius pulled the boy up and out of his bed, holding him as if he were a small child. Had Harry been more conscious, he might have been impressed the frail looking man could lift him so easily. He carried his godson to the bathroom, shouting for Elise and Nick on his way. 

“Nick!” He called one more time just in case. “Harry needs help!”

Harry felt himself be placed on the cool tile floor, right in front of the toilet. He felt it immediately, the need to retch. He did so, unaware he now had an audience of four very worried looking family members.

“What on earth?” Elise breathed from the doorway.

Her robe was halfway on, and she was missing one of her slippers. Her husband stood in similar disarray, with no shirt and bedhead rivaled only by Sam’s. She stood behind her parents, hand over her mouth in confused horror.

Sirius patted his back, his eyes never leaving his face.

“He woke up screaming…” Sirius said through shaky breaths. “A nightmare, obviously. He looked sick so I brought him here.”

“Thank you, Sirius.” Elise joined them in the bathroom, getting a rag to put over Harry’s forehead as they laid him back down. “This hasn’t happened in a long time…I honestly thought they were gone for good—his nightmares, that is.”

“I guess not.” Nick said. “I’ll check him in the living room and give him something to help with the vomiting, one moment.”

Elise got to work immediately, throwing a blanket and pillow on the ground in the living room while Sirius brought him over. Sam got water and a new rag, still terrified but focused on making sure he was okay.

After a few minutes, Harry stirred once more.

“Mum?” Harry’s voice was raw and strained. “What happened?”

“You had a nightmare, darling.” She ran a hand through his hair gently. 

“You’re okay, you took some medicine and water.” Nick said from the couch.

“Quite the wake-up call, dearest godson. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Sirius chuckled. “All is well though—as long as you are well, of course.”

“I’m… fine.” Harry stretched a little, trying to stand. “Sorry everyone, for waking you all up.”

“All good.” Sam shrugged. “I was hungry anyway.”

“Same, pancakes?” Harry smiled, apparently perfectly fine.

“Sure.” Sam walked to the kitchen to start making some.

Harry followed her, leaving the adults in the room to wonder what the hell they just witnessed.

“His eyes were wide open…” Sirius told them. “He was mumbling something at first, I couldn’t understand. He got louder and louder until…well, you heard I’m sure. I tried calling to him, but it was no use. His magic was going haywire, I had to fight my way through the storm just to get to him.”

“I’m sorry. Sirius. I’m sure that was stressful, and fighting wild magic like that is incredibly dangerous.” Elise shook her head. “I’m just not quite sure what happened.”

“I had nightmares like that sometimes.” Sirius shrugged. “Anything could trigger them, or sometimes, nothing at all.”

Nick nodded. “If he seems okay, I think it’s better to just believe him and keep an eye out. No need to stress an already stressful situation.”

–

Harry was indeed perfectly fine after that. He couldn't even remember what had happened in his nightmare, and preferred it that way.

It was several days before anyone brought it up again, and even then Harry felt entirely unaffected by it.

“Do you think he could stay through Christmas?" Harry asked his mum one morning while Sirius was still asleep.

“We’re planning on asking him if he would like to, and I’m sure he’ll agree.” She ruffled his hair affectionately. “He’s nearly done with Nick's original potion regime anyway, it’s about time he began the next round.”

Harry nodded excitedly. “He looks a lot better, doesn’t he though?”

“Absolutely.” Elise smiled.

“I look just as amazing as I always have, Prongslet.” Sirius yawned from the hallway.

“I hope you haven’t always looked this way…” Sam frowned from the kitchen table.

“Hey, that wasn’t nice. I’ll have you know I was quite the catch back in the day. Right Elise?” He turned to their mum with a beaming smile, hoping she’d take his side.

She laughed once before heading back to her room to get ready for work.

“Merlin, you’re all mean to me in the morning…” Sirius sighed.

“It’s not entirely hopeless.” Sam shrugged. “A haircut and clothes that fit you might do you some good.”

“Sirius, you should let me cut your hair.” Harry smirked.

The older man reached for the mess of unruly curls on his head and gulped dramatically. “I don’t know about that, Prongslet…”

“Oh come on.” Sam stood, the same smirk on her own face as she and Harry approached. “It’ll be fun!”

“Super fun!” Harry pulled out his wand slowly, and Sirius stepped back.

“We can talk about this, you don’t have to do this to me…” Sirius backed away faster, his lack of a wand never having bothered him as much as it did in this moment.

Without warning, he broke off into a sprint, but Harry was faster. “Petrificus Totalus!”

–

Elise walked back into her family’s house to something she was not used to when her beloved children were home. Silence. And, as any parent knows, silence is never good.

“Sam? Harry?” She called, wondering if they’d gone out in the snow.

“Good evening, mum.” Harry said as he stepped into view.

Elise’s eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious. He looked much too proud of himself, something had happened and she knew it. 

“Alright, talk. What is it you and your sister have done this time?”

Harry feigned disbelief. “Nothing at all, what makes you say that?”

Elise frowned and pushed her way past him. She passed Sam’s open bedroom door, nothing was amiss. She passed her own door, still nothing. Then, Harry’s room came into view. Piles of half-transfigured clothes were strewn about, as well as hair clippings, for some reason? She already felt a headache coming.

“Harry James…” Her voice carried an unspoken warning, he was to confess immediately or face the consequences.

“It’s nothing serious, mum. Well…It’s Sirius, but it’s not serious.” He laughed at his own joke.

Elise looked unamused, opening the door further to take in the full damage.

There, in the centre of the room sat Sirius, tied to Harry's desk chair. His hair and beard were trimmed, and he was wearing what appeared to be a new set of clothes. He looked exhausted.

“Children…” Elise sighed. “What exactly do you think you are doing to our guest?”

“He needed a haircut.” Sam shrugged from nearby, cleaning off a pair of clippers. “Oh come on mum, you can’t deny he looks much better now. Less mangy and more…rugged.”

Elise fought the urge to burst out laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, taking out her wand and releasing Sirius from his trap instead. 

“Elise, oh Merlin thank you.” Sirius collapsed to the ground as if wounded. “These beasts, they trapped me here—you’ve no idea what they’ve done to me!”

Sam and Harry snickered, tempted to tie him back up to continue the joke.

“I’m very sorry, Sirius.” Elise shook her head. “You two are both grounded from your games this weekend.”

“Aw what, mum!” They cried out to her several times, but she paid them no mind—there was dinner to be made.

It was Sirius’s turn to smirk now, standing over them triumphantly. “Take that, you little shits.”

“Whatever, we’ll get you next time.” Sam crossed her arms.

Harry nodded. “Besides, you should be thanking us, have a look.”

He pointed at the mirror nearby, and Sirius walked over slowly, genuinely afraid to see the damage.

Despite their rather unorthodox method, he had to admit, they really did a good job. His clothes fit him better, partly because of Sam altering them and partly because ever since he’d started staying here he was eating very regularly again. His hair was cut short, and sat in a way that looked effortlessly styled. He shook out the curls, letting them rest naturally. Unfortunately, he quite liked it. His beard had also been trimmed, and while Sam had used magic, he’d never feared for his life more than when they had a razor so close to neck. He had to admit, he looked rather stylish. It almost made him gain his old confidence back, but he knew that would take time to truly return.

He let out a hefty sigh before turning to his godson and the girl he now considered an honorary niece. “Alright. Alright, alright, alright. You did good.”

“Yea, obviously.” Sam blew a curl out of her face, rolling her eyes and the obvious-ness of his statement.

“We told you to trust us.” Harry clicked his tongue disapprovingly. 

“Okay, well trust is great—may I remind you that you shot a spell and tied me up in that very same breath, though? Cause I’d really like us to remember that part.”

“Details, details.” Harry chuckled.

Soon enough, Elise called them out for dinner. They were to have a guest over tonight—well, one more than they normally had. Amelia Bones. The key to Sirius’s freedom.

“Good evening, Mrs. Woods.” Amelia greeted her stiffly from the door.

“Come in, come in.” Elise showed her to her seat. “I do hope it is all to your liking.”

“It looks wonderful.” Amelia smiled at the people around the table stiffly.

Harry and Sam had been made to wear nice clothes, and Sirius had been instructed to remain in Harry’s room for the time being.

“Good evening, Madam Bones.” Sam nodded her head respectfully. “I am Samantha Woods, but you may call me Sam.”

“And I am Harry Potter.” Harry nodded to her as well. “Nice to meet you, Madam Bones.”

“Hello, you two.” She smiled. “Are you familiar with my niece?”

“Susan?” Sam nodded. “We study together occasionally, lovely girl.”

“I think so too, though I suppose I am biased.” Amelia chuckled.

Harry studied the woman before him, swearing he’d seen her before, but where?

“Is something the matter, Harry?” She asked, apparently having noticed him staring.

He cleared his throat as the realization hit him. “I have a picture of you.” He immediately realized that sounded extremely strange, if not a little creepy, so he shook his head before speaking again. “I mean, there is a picture with you in it in one of my parents’ old photo albums. I thought I recognized you, it was from that picture.”

“Ah, yes. I took many pictures with Lily and James.” She looked a little miffed. “Really, I took a lot of pictures with Sirius Black, because he loved a good photo session. Very obsessed with himself, that one.” She chuckled. “I understand that is why I am here, is it not?”

“Yes, Madam Bones–”

“Amelia—is fine, Elise.” She cut her off before motioning for her to continue.

“Amelia, then.” She smiled. “As I’m sure you are well aware, we are trying to get Sirius exonerated. That man is innocent, but we can’t do anything about it unless we go through all the legal channels. That’s where we’re hoping you can help us.”

“You’re sure?” Her voice was quieter, smaller than it had been.

“Positive. We have evidence, though it will require the capture of a certain individual. I’m certain your team can handle it, though.”

Amelia’s face cycled through a number of emotions Harry couldn’t quite place. There was one he was certain of however, and that was relief. He watched as she adjusted her grey blazer and smoothed the already perfect bun her brown hair was in.

“Very well. I shall do my best, but I’ll need to see him to discuss how he can go about this.”

The four besides her all shared a glance.

“Sirius?” Harry called. “Come on out.”

Amelia cycled through a new range of emotions, but settled on shock.

“Are you seriously harboring a fugitive?” She hissed. “Do you know how–”

“We’re aware, madam Bones.” Nick held his hand out. “He needed our help. He’s perfectly safe here, I assure you. And Dumbledore is also aware—before you ask.”

Sirius walked out at that moment, looking the most nervous Harry had ever seen him. He’d borrowed a shirt and pants from Nick once more, hoping to look a bit professional.

“Ehem. Amelia.” He tried a smile. “Lovely to see you.”

She appeared a little shell-shocked to see him looking so healthy, but returned an awkward smile of her own.

“Sirius.” She breathed. “You cut your hair?”

Sirius’s ears pinked at the tips. “The kids did. I quite like it, actually.”

Elise shook her head, though she had to admit. Luckily, it did suit him.

Amelia stood then, a little abruptly. “Can we talk outside?”

“No one will see or hear you in the backyard, we’ve long-since set up those wards.” Nick waved his hand dismissively. “Take as much time as you need.”

Harry and Sam watched them go, nothing if not confused.

“What was that about?” She mumbled as the door shut behind them.

Elise laughed a little, sharing a knowing look with her husband.

“Don’t mention this around them…” She whispered. “Those two used to have a thing at Hogwarts.” She smiled slyly.

Nick nodded. “They were quite enamored with each other, though she likes to pretend it wasn’t so.”

“You’re kidding.” Sam gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

“I do, I saw that picture of them together.” Harry grinned.

–

Outside, Amelia rested her back on the railing behind her, utterly overwhelmed.

“Amelia…” He tried.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything yet.” She looked stressed. “I can’t believe…Why didn’t you tell me anything? I could have helped you a long time ago had I just known–”

“No, you couldn't have, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I’ll not have your good name ruined because of me, Ami.” He crossed his arms and looked up at the sky, avoiding her piercing stare.

“I would have fought for you. I’m going to now. I cannot believe you spent…” She trailed off, trying to steady the emotion carrying through her voice.

“Twelve years.”

“I know how long it’s been.” She snapped. “You are daft if you think I haven’t kept track of every day you’ve been locked up in that miserable place…”

“I counted the days too.” He said after a beat of heavy silence. “I counted the days stolen from me. The days they stole from me seeing my godson, the hours they stole from seeing you. The very minutes of my life I shall never have returned because I could not control my anger that night.” His voice broke as he spoke.

Amelia dropped her head to keep him from seeing the tears that had welled in her eyes. “I never believed them. I never thought you were responsible. Not once, Sirius.” She sniffled. “I couldn’t.”

He looked at her then, taking it all in. She looked thinner than he remembered, with graying hair and new wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. He stepped closer, reaching for her hands. She was beautiful—just as, if not more than she always had been. He resigned to holding one of her hands loosely, not wanting to push the matter any further than she was comfortable with.

He’d had Dobby check on her every day since he’d been sent to take care of him. He knew she was still unmarried. Knew she’d long-since adopted her niece. He also knew she was the same wonderfully brilliant woman he’d fallen in love with long ago.

After a moment, her fingers laced through his, pulling him closer.

“I’m going to set you free.” She whispered, not meeting his gaze still. “Give me until then.”

With that, she let go of his hand and hurried back inside, unable to rein in her emotions any longer. She needed a distraction. Dinner and discussion would do, she hoped. Sirius followed after her moments later, sitting in his designated seat next to Harry.

The rest of their meal continued quite normally as they considered next steps to complete to work towards freeing Sirius. Sirius was grateful for that, as he wasn’t sure he could endure the sight of her crying in front of him any longer.

–

The rest of December followed much of the same pattern. Nick had remodeled the shed with a bit of magic to give Sirius his own guest house. He would be staying with them until further notice, in order to regain his health and magic to its full potential.

Hermione joined them for Christmas, and they had a wonderful night of celebration. Harry was glad to return to school though, eager to resume his studies and have a chance at a more normal term.

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXXII~

~Of Kisses and Consequences~

Hermione sat cross legged on a stone ledge outside the grounds, waiting for her friends to join her. She’d thrown her hair into a ponytail and donned a pair of earmuffs her father had bought her from France. She wore boots, jeans, and a light green sweater. Over that, she wore one of Neville’s jackets that no longer fit his ever growing frame. That boy was nearly a head taller than her now, and she honestly wondered if he’d ever stop growing.

They were going to Hogsmeade today and she planned to have a great time, despite the increasing levels of dread that currently consumed her. Thoughts of her first and closest friends whirled around her mind no matter how hard she tried to convince them to not. She looked up towards the castle and saw him then, arm draped over Neville as he animatedly told him a story. Sam and Everette were right behind them, standing much too close for Hermione to truly believe their claims of being “just friends”. She adjusted herself awkwardly, sliding off the ledge in hopes of meeting them halfway.

She started off toward them, her feet dragging in the powdery snow. She made it three steps before she slammed into a wall. Or rather, a person—Ron Weasley to be exact. He clutched his shoulder that she had just rammed her face into, and she rubbed her sore nose.

“You alright, Hermione?” He asked, looking a little miffed.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She waved her hands awkwardly as pain shot through her nose and exploded throughout her head.

“I didn’t break your nose did I?” Ron’s voice carried an appropriate amount of dread for the idea, she thought.

The ginger boy stepped closer and removed her hands from her face to examine her nose. Despite her feeble protests, he’d held her cheeks in an attempt to see better. Hermione thought he was much too close, and felt herself become rather nervous while his blue-grey eyes stared at her face. She fought the urge to push him, just wanting to get away from the situation. She knew her nose wasn’t broken, and she definitely didn’t need Ron’s less than professional opinion on it to confirm.

“Ron, I-” She started, placing her hands on top of his in hopes of moving them off her face.

“Hermione?” Harry’s voice interrupted.

He stood nearby, behind Ron. He wore boots and jeans too—as well as a dark green sweater and a black coat on top. His hair was covered by a red beanie. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised.

“Harry!” Her voice came out too shrill, too quick.

She sighed internally before pulling back from Ron rather aggressively. She smiled tensely before joining her group, eager to leave the embarrassing situation.

Harry grabbed her arm as she approached, looping it through his. “Don’t need you slipping again.” He muttered, referencing a fall she’d taken a few days ago.

He’d laughed then, and promptly fell right after she had, so Hermione wasn’t quite sure why he was making such a fuss about it now—but he had a point she supposed.

Ron joined them in their carriage, and Hermione was grateful he seemed to have moved on. She relaxed into her seat for the ride, eager to do some shopping.

–

“Hey, ‘Mione.” Harry jogged up to her outside Flourish and Blott’s. “Here, just like you asked.”

He handed her a chocolate he’d bought from Honeyduke’s and she took a bite out of it, sighing into the sweetness. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Of course. Couldn’t find anything?” He looked at her empty hands.

“Well, I forgot my wallet at school…” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s okay, I’ll buy what I need next time we come down.”

Harry was about to suggest buying it for her when he heard Ginny’s voice nearby.

“Liv?” She said.

Hermione raised a brow. Was she looking for Olivia? She knew the two were sort-of friends, but honestly assumed they wouldn’t get along very well.

“Liv, I’m sorry!” Her voice was further away now, as if she’d started running after her.

Maybe they really didn’t get along.

Hermione moved to walk in the opposite direction, but noticed her ever-nosy best friend had decided otherwise. Begrudgingly, she followed.

“What if something happened, or they’re fighting? We should just double-check.” Harry whispered as they approached.

“I just don’t think it’s any of our business, but if you insist.” Hermione sighed as they watched Ginny walk behind a shop.

“Isn’t that like…an alley?” Harry mumbled. “What’s she doing back there?”

Hermione grabbed his arm, pointing at the area around the alley entrance. Neville was walking straight for it. They let him go through, then followed, now wondering if their good friend would finally be making some sort of move on the girl he’d had a crush on for what felt like forever.

Ginny’s voice sounded again, although very quietly. She was apologizing for something. Hermione couldn’t quite make out what exactly, but it didn't sound too serious. She heard Neville shuffle closer, then stop dead in his tracks. Next thing she knew, he ran past them so fast she wasn’t sure he’d even seen either of them.

“What the hell?”

“Language, Harry, but I agree. What was that about?” She crept a little closer, finally getting a good view of what Neville had seen.

Ginny sat on a bench with Olivia, the latter girl’s legs draped over her own. Hermione watched her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, noticing their flushed faces and giddy smiles. She thought for a moment, contemplating everything she knew about these two girls, before deciding this actually made quite a bit of sense somehow. Was it unorthodox? Perhaps. But Hermione couldn’t help but grin. 

Just as she thought to leave, she watched Olivia kiss Ginny’s knuckles affectionately, confirming her initial suspicions.

“Well?” Harry said, still in their original hiding spot.

Hermione was about to share her findings, when she realized how close they were to the two. Instead, she grabbed Harry’s hand and led him to a different alleyway.

“Everything was fine.” Hermione beamed. “They were just…” She trailed off as she considered Neville for the first time since the discovery. “Oh…poor Nev.”

“What? They were what? And what does it have to do with Nev?” Harry looked extremely confused.

“I think they’re dating.” Hermione looked up at him, the guilt now evident in her eyes. “For a moment I forgot how he felt about her…I’m happy for them but…”

“Ginny and Olivia?” He cracked a smile, obviously going through the same calculations she had. 

He grabbed her shoulders, his face a mix of surprised and amused. “I know, I know.” She sighed.

“I mean, I feel awful for Nev of course.” Harry nodded seriously. “But that makes so much sense now.”

“I know, but the poor man. What should we do?”

“Nothing. He’ll handle his emotions how he sees fit. If he wants to talk then we listen, and that’ll be enough. I promise.” He smiled at her, patting both her shoulders twice.

Just then, they heard a rather odd sound from nearby. It was coming from the tree line. Harry whipped to face it, immediately on alert. Hermione grabbed his arm, cursing internally for being so frightened by what was probably nothing.

“You heard that, right?” Harry whispered.

“Obviously…” She said.

“We need to check and make sure that’s not something dangerous.”

“Merlin, Harry. Can we not just ignore the potential danger for once?” She wondered aloud, fighting back a laugh when he cut her a look.

Of course they couldn’t, what a silly question.

Harry led the way for their second investigation, getting closer to where they thought they heard the original noise. Hermione followed close behind, her mind doing calculations much faster than she was processing them in real time. As they approached, the pieces started fitting.

“Harry, I don't think we should check this one out…” She breathed.

“Why? What if-”

“No, I’m serious. Think about what we heard. Did that not sound-”

Her own statement was cut off by a similar noise, this one much more apparent than the last because of their proximity. This was no animal, and it didn’t sound like anyone was in danger.

“Harry.” Hermione hissed. “I don’t want to be a part of this…”

But Harry had a positively devious smirk on his face. “Someone’s having fun…”

“Honestly!” Hermione swatted at him. “This is none of our business, and I certainly don’t want to witness anything inappropriate, so let’s just.”

Another noise came from the tree line. A girl gasped briefly, before moaning. Harry fought back a laugh, Hermione looked just about ready to die.

Just as she finally convinced him to leave the couple alone, they heard them start moving. They were walking toward them. Whether they’d seen them or not, Hermione really didn’t want to take that chance.

“I know you are faster than this!” She seethed as she mostly dragged him away.

“Wait, I want to see who it was, Sam’s gonna-” He snapped his mouth shut so fast Hermione stopped walking.

“What?”

He stood perfectly still, his face cycling through every known human emotion before settling on disgust.

There, happily running through the tree line and back toward the village, was none other than his beloved sister. Her hand held Everette’s tightly, pulling him through the snow with her.

Hermione saw their flushed faces, the barely concealed marks on Sam’s neck, and the distinctly ruffled clothes and hair. She brought a hand to her mouth, aghast. 

Just before they went back into the alley, Sam pulled Everette to the wall of the building next to them, planting a long kiss before hurrying off again with him.

The two younger teens stood rooted to the spot, each processing the information very differently.

“Harry…” Hermione tried.

“I can’t talk right now, I’m busy trying not to throw up.” He muttered.

“I mean…are we really surprised?” Hermione shrugged.

Harry glared at her so hard she thought he might burn a hole right through her.

“I’m not surprised, I’m horrified.” He hissed.

“Oh whatever, let’s go get butterbeers from The Three Broomsticks. I’m cold and I’ve had enough shock for one day.” She dragged him through the village, praying they wouldn't run into his sister and her apparent upgraded best-friend anytime soon.

–

The Three Broomsticks was just as warm as Hermione had hoped. She sat next to Harry in a back booth, hoping no one would try to speak to him while he was in his current state of doom. She sipped her butterbeer happily, licking foam from her lips and humming.

“Drink Harry, you’re still cold.” She tapped his glass.

He drank, but his eyes held little to no emotion. She wondered if knowing that information about a sibling was really so scarring. She supposed she’d never know.

“Hermione?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?” She looked up to see Ron holding a poorly wrapped package.

“I saw you looking at this earlier, and then I heard you tell Harry you left your wallet at school…” He shuffled awkwardly. “I felt bad for almost breaking your nose, so here.”

He handed her the package, which she now knew to be the book series she’d been eyeing before.

“Ron, I…thank you!” She smiled, taken aback by his behavior.

They’d had their ups and downs the past three years. She argued with him a lot, and he annoyed her to no end, but apparently he wasn’t as bad as she thought.

He returned her smile, seeming a little more comfortable now. “No problem, my treat.”

Harry looked up from his sulking, an unfamiliar feeling seeping into him. He looked between Ron and Hermione smiling, wondering why it was bothering him. Ron was a friend, and he liked talking quidditch and chess with him. If anything, he should be grateful they weren't yelling at each other per usual.

“My mum likes those books.” Ron was saying, and Hermione began chatting excitedly about them to him.

Harry cleared his throat, more for himself than them, utterly confused by the weird tightening in his chest. The other two looked at him strangely.

“Ah, sorry. Swallowed wrong I think, one second.” He stood abruptly, walking to the bathroom.

Inside, he splashed his face with water. He thought about the day. Hermione was right of course—Everette and Sam wasn’t a surprise, but he had no desire to know what he now knew of them. Obviously, that was his own fault for being nosy, but he didn’t have to be happy about it.

Next he thought about Ron, wondering why he was pissing him off all of a sudden. When he couldn’t come up with an answer, he resigned to heading back out. He weaved his way through the tables, stopping short when he got back to his own. Hermione was hugging Ron. She patted him on the shoulder as he left officially, and sat back down with a smile so bright, Harry thought she might be emitting light somehow.

“What was that about?” He asked as he took his seat once more, wondering why his voice sounded so accusatory.

“Oh, just saying bye. I wanted to thank him for the books. That was so sweet of him.” She laughed softly. “Guess I didn’t realize he had a nicer side to him…”

Harry frowned. This was an entirely normal situation, but he felt overwhelmingly upset for some reason. He chalked it up to the horror he’d witnessed earlier and settled into his seat, resting his head on her shoulder as she took out her new book to read.

–

Harry spent a lot of his time writing letters to Padfoot. He liked talking to the man, and he enjoyed hearing about his progress. He’d started going to the gym with Nick, assuming a disguise for the few hours they were away. He’d been cooking meals so as to show his gratitude, and had learned quite a bit from Dobby on the matter.

They talked about trips they wanted to go on, things they wanted to go do together, and what Sirius would do for work after he was free.

Harry heard through Dumbledore that Amelia Bones was making incredible breakthroughs in the ministry in regards to the public opinion of Sirius Black. The confirmation that Pettigrew was alive and the real danger boosted the change immensely, and her passion for the cause was contagious. People were talking, and the pressure on Cornelius Fudge was real now.

He was excited to have his godfather free, and even more excited for him to finally work to get back the life that was stolen from him.

What Harry was not enjoying, was the weight of knowing the nefarious behavior his sister was participating in, and pretending not to. Hermione assured him that this was for the better, but when Sam snuck back into the common room after curfew again, Harry decided enough was enough.

“Samantha Rowan Woods.” He said, approaching his elder sister with what he hoped was a stern expression.

“Harry James Potter.” She raised a brow, wondering what game he thought he was playing.

“Where were you?” He asked.

“Ew, you’re not dad. Calm down.” She held up her hand and shook her head.

“I know you were with Everette.” He huffed. “And I know what you two have been doing.”

Sam looked mortified. “Harry! Are you spying on us?”

Harry had the decency to look a little guilty. “That’s not the point!”

“I don’t care what your point is, it’s none of your business and we’re going to stop talking about it, right now.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but she crossed the room so fast he honestly thought she apparated. 

“I don’t say anything about you and Hermione, making googly eyes at each other all day long! I never mention how weird it is that you guys can’t get your shit together and just tell each other how you feel, and I definitely don’t threaten to tattle about it to anyone!” She hissed, enunciating each word to drive her point.

Harry blinked, honestly confused. “Me and Hermione are-”

“Ugh!” She threw her arms in the air exasperatedly. “I don’t care what you think is happening between you two. Just know you’re wrong. I’m going to bed, and I don’t want to hear about this again!”

On her way, she yanked his ear to prove her anger and Harry was left in the empty common room with a sore ear and a racing mind.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, but when had he ever?

Chapter Text

~Chapter XXXIII~

~Ink and Bloodlines~

Harry flew past the Gryffindor stands in the final match of the year. Gryffindor was up, but Slytherin was gaining fast. His eyes swept the pitch expertly, taking note of everything. Everything except the snitch, that is. He blew out an exasperated breath, eager for this game to be over. He’d been going harder in his training recently, adding weightlifting to his regime in order to have something to relate to with Sirius and Nick. It was fun for the most part, but Merlin was he sore.

He caught Neville’s eye, shrugging as the other boy seemed to question the lack of chase from both seekers.

Draco Malfoy was flying lazily above, not seeing the snitch either. Harry watched him closely. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes growing more swollen by the day. He frowned, there was simply nothing he could do for him.

Time continued on. Ginny scored, Fred got hit with a loose bludger. Slytherins’ keeper nearly ran his broom into one of the hoops. It was a general mess, and it had gone on for much too long.

“Malfoy!” He called, flying near enough to where he could hear him over the wind, but not close enough to be suspicious. “Shall we give them a show?”

“I don’t want to be a part of your performance, Potter. Keep your head in the game.” He sped off, but Harry thought that was odd.

Malfoy wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, nor did he ever look so unfocused. He chased after him, feeling like something was seriously wrong.

As he flew, he heard the crowd roar. The snitch had been spotted. It was heading right for Malfoy. He kicked into full speed, Malfoy may not feel well, but he wasn’t going to throw the game for him any time soon. Malfoy saw it, but barely adjusted. He merely stuck his hand out. Slowly, methodically. He approached, but slowed too fast. His momentum tipped him forward.

Harry rushed on, what was he doing? He watched as he tipped further and further, and when he’d nearly toppled off, Harry saw it. Blood was rushing from his nose, and his eyes were entirely glazed over.

“MALFOY!” Harry shouted, reaching out, not for the snitch, but for the boy about to fall to his death.

He pressed forward, ignoring the surprised cries from the crowd.

“Malfoy wake up, dammit!” He shouted through the wind.

He was close, but not close enough. Just as he reached out, pain shot through his sore arm, causing him to just miss. He cursed as his own broom tipped forward.

“Dammit Malfoy! Wake up, you hear?” He readjusted, seeing the moment the boy finally slipped.

Malfoy’s vision was entirely blurred, and he couldn’t hear anything but a faint buzz. He felt the air rushing around him. Felt the single finger that still remained on his broom, and latched onto it. It was so fast, Harry swore the actual fall never happened. Malfoy threw all of his weight backward, twisting and turning until he was once more perfectly seated on his broom. He swiped the blood from his nose and grit his teeth as he pulled up to halt his momentum. Harry watched from far above, where he was just moments before, and stuck out his hand. The snitch flew past in an instant, and Harry caught it, his eyes never leaving the blonde boy below.

–

“He had a nosebleed?” Hermione asked after Harry had explained the story later. 

They were on their way back to the common room after leaving one of Snape’s lessons.

“Mhm.” 

“As much as I dislike him, I’m glad he’s okay. And that save was impressive.” She sighed.

“Oh, absolutely. I’m just glad he did save himself, because I missed…” He shook his head. “My arms are sore. It’s no excuse, but I really did try.”

“No one would have blamed you, Harry. You did your best.” She patted his shoulder.

They walked on for a moment, before hearing sniffling down the hall.

Sharing a knowing look, they approached what they knew would be Malfoy. He was hunched over some parchment in an empty classroom.

Harry knocked on the door.

“Er…Malfoy. Are you alright now?” He asked tentatively.

Malfoy shot him an icy glare. “None of your business, Potter. You and your Mudblood girlfriend need to get out of my sight. Trust that it’s only thanks to my generosity I haven’t had her personally removed from this school. My father has connections, you know.”

Harry bristled, about to tell him off, but Hermione stopped him. “We’re glad you’re alright, Draco. Good evening.”

They turned to leave, but Malfoy stalked past them, making a show of shoving through them both to be on his way.

Harry blew out a breath, trying to remain calm as the blonde grew further and further away.

“He dropped his letter…” Hermione stooped to pick it up.

She hadn’t meant to read it, not really. But, the tearstained and scratched up parchment was hard to ignore. His anguished writing burned in her mind like fire. He was begging his father to release him from the life he’d been made to lead. He wanted to just go to school, to make friends, and to feel wanted. He spoke of feeling ill and weak all of the time, likely due to having no appetite and the constant physical strain he was put under. She fought her own tears as she handed the letter to Harry, who promptly crumpled it out of anger.

“Bloody Lucius Malfoy and his bloody elitism." He huffed.

Hermione didn’t even correct him on his language this time, because she fully agreed.

They fell asleep that night fighting the inner battle of being unable to tell what their feelings towards Malfoy’s situation were.

–

The rest of the year passed without further incident. Hufflepuff won the House Cup, but Gryffindor was close behind. Harry went home feeling accomplished and ready for the new year.

He came home to find a much different looking Sirius than he left. His hair had grown out a little, but not by much. He looked infinitely healthier than he had before. Months worth of intensive meal plans and gym sessions made his complexion almost as good as it had been before Azkaban. He still had the grey streaks in his hair, and his eyes still held the same haunted aura occasionally, but he looked so much better.

Harry gave him a hug as soon as he saw him, much to his godfather’s delight. It’s all he wanted really. If nothing else, a good relationship with Harry would be just fine. He promised after all—He told James he would look after his one and only son, and he would.

–

One summer day in June, on one of the many days Amelia Bones came to their home to catch them up on the progress in the ministry, they had received excellent news. Fudge had agreed to bring up the matter in their next Wizengamot meeting ,and promised he would do his best to push the matter of a true trial. Harry didn’t have much faith in the man, but something was better than nothing.

“What do you think Sam meant by her rambling this morning?” Hermione asked Harry later that night.

Harry shrugged. “Who knows.”

He assumed it had something to do with Everette—in fact, he was confident in this. Why else would she have appeared so nervous?

“She should be almost back by now, your mum is almost done with dinner.”

“Good, I'm starving.” Harry grinned.

A knock sounded at the door, and Lupin revealed himself in the doorway.

“Harry, Hermione.” He smiled.

He’d come to visit for dinner, as he often did now that Sirius was staying here.

“Hello, Professor.” Hermione stood to greet him.

“Must we remain so formal?” He chuckled. “Lupin will be fine if we are not in school.”

“Should I call you uncle?” Harry wondered aloud. “That’s what you would have been to me, had I grown up with you, right?”

“Oh…of course, Harry.” He beamed, glad that he had managed to regain a relationship with his best friend’s son at last.

“Uncle Moony.” Hermione chuckled. “It’s really quite adorable, honestly.”

Lupin shrugged. “I like to think my codename is quite cool.”

“It’s very cool, Moony.” Sirius joined them, patting him on the back reassuringly.

“Of course it is.” Harry nodded seriously.

“Dinner!” Elise called from the kitchen.

The four made their way over, noticing Sam had still not arrived.

“Where’s Sammy?” Harry said as he took his seat.

“She’s almost here.” Nick said.

They ate in relative quiet, enjoying the meal and each other’s company. Finally, after a few minutes, Sam unlocked the front door.

“Everyone.” She addressed the table from the doorway. “I’d like to introduce my boyfriend tonight.”

The table had a myriad of reactions. Sirius and Lupin eyed each other mischievously, they already knew of course. The children gossip at school, and Lupin told Sirius almost everything. Nick’s face formed a sort of half-happy, half-frightened expression. Elise appeared to be overjoyed. Hermione too, she instantly put her hands to her mouth in anticipation. Harry grimaced. He knew about this already too, and while he was mostly happy for them, he didn't want to hear about it.

Sam reached back through the door and dragged a terrified looking Everette inside. They sat across from Harry, which he found odd. Sam always sat on his left, and Hermione always sat on his right. Because of the extra number of guests they had, the order would vary and the exact seats would shift, but they always sat next to each other.  He told himself she just forgot this once.

“So, Everette.” Elise smiled warmly. “You’ve made it official.”

“Yes ma’am.” His reply came a little stiffly, he was clearly still nervous.

“I just knew you would end up together. The moment Sam came home as a firstie gushing about you I was-”

“Mum!” Sam hissed.

Everette cracked a smile. “Gushing about me, as a firstie? You had it bad.”

Sam shot a glare at him, but didn’t respond otherwise, choosing instead to focus on her meal.

“I for one, am so glad to meet you, Mister Everette.” Sirius smirked. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots of each other.”

“I agree, Sirius.” Lupin smiled softly. “I’ll have to keep an eye on you two in class.”

“Please do.” Harry and Nick deadpanned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to talk to her sister in all but blood. “I knew of course, how could I not? But, this is so exciting! Tell me everything, how did it finally happen?”

Harry looked a little seasick, but he was curious.

“Well…I had—um.” Sam started, then looked at Everette, pleading for help.

“What she means to say is, I…we, er…” He trailed off, just as hopeless.

They didn’t know how to communicate the events of their “getting together”. After all, they hardly remembered how it all went down anyway.

“Do neither of you remember, or is it not appropriate for the dinner table?” Sirius broke the silence.

Nick dropped his fork and it clattered to the ground.

Hermione swatted at the man to her right, smacking him right in the shoulder. “Honestly, Sirius…”

“It’s not that!” Everette said a little too loudly.

Sam cleared her throat. “No it’s just…It wasn’t all that romantic or anything. I sort of had to hold him at wand-point to admit he liked me.”

“That’s not-” Everette tried.

“Except it is. You would not have ever said anything unless I did something first, and you know it.” She gave him a look.

Hermione hummed. “It’s true, he wouldn’t have. There's a reason he’s not a Gryffindor.”

“Not very brave, are you, Everette?” Harry snickered.

“He’s plenty brave.” Sam frowned. “He’s only scared of me.”

“And that’s the way to do it, lass.” Sirius clapped. “I love it!”

Everette looked like he wanted to retort, but thought better of it. He wasn’t scared of her—most of the time—he was scared of losing her. But sure, whatever she said.

“When did it happen?” Elise chuckled.

“December.” Everette answered easily. “But, we didn’t want to rush into it, so we’ve been taking things extra slow.”

“Great!” Nick smiled warmly. “That’s a great idea.”

Harry raised a brow. How “slow” could you be taking it if he found them making out in the forest outside of Hogsmeade? He shuddered at the memory. He wouldn’t out his sister and her apparent lie, not yet at least.

He had to get a quick jab in though, so he simply said. “Right. Slow.” He dragged out the sound, looking right at her as he said it.

She fumed, stabbing her fork into a potato with way too much force. “I know you know about slow, considering you’re still simpering over Hermione like a lovesick fool.”

The table quieted instantly.

Hermione’s face was bright red, and her brown eyes were wide with confusion.

Elise and Nick paused with forks halfway to their mouths, looking between the two almost-fourth-years.

Sirius spit out his drink, which was immediately blocked by a spell held up by Lupin, who also looked rather shellshocked.

Everett laughed, then stopped when he saw Harry's confused expression.

“What are you talking about?!” Harry exclaimed, his own face growing quite red. “Hermione? I mean, Hermione and I…I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but we’re just friends!”

His rambling ended and the table was no louder than it was moments before, everyone now staring at him strangely.

Elise cleared her throat. “Samantha, apologize to Harry and Hermione. You’ve made them uncomfortable.”

Sam rolled her eyes, but her smirk was unmistakable. “Sorry, kids, but you know it’s true.”

Hermione was so focused on her food she was pretty sure she forgot to breathe. She hadn’t expected to be called out like that, and so aggressively too. She had no idea if Sam was aware of her growing crush on Harry, but she was certainly wrong about Harry liking her. She knew that wouldn’t–couldn’t–be true.

Harry took a long drink of his water, choosing to ignore everyone for the time being. Sam had embarrassed him. She took it too far, making false accusations like that. What if Hermione got the wrong idea? What if she thought he was in love with her and she got weirded out and stopped being friends with him? Or, what if she thought he was in love with her and she thought they should become a couple?

That didn’t sound dreadful honestly. He didn’t know much about love or romance, but he supposed Hermione would make a great girlfriend. She was smart, strong, and honest. All good traits to look for in a partner.

He glanced over at her, wondering why her movements looked so tense. His eyes trailed her side profile and he felt himself smile. She was pretty too, of course. Very…pretty.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head violently.

Luckily, no one paid him any mind, too busy with their abrupt conversation changes.

Hermione had watched him do it though. She frowned, biting her lip as she realized he probably was thinking about dating her and decided that was gross. He certainly looked disturbed. She knew it would happen of course. Harry was going to end up with some super gorgeous, super powerful witch who would be perfect for him. She smiled, though she knew it looked strained.

She was perfectly okay with this, obviously. Why wouldn’t she be? This fleeting crush would be over soon, and then they could go back to normal.

–

“Uncle Padfoot!” Harry called out to Sirius, half-dragging Hermione behind him as they hurried over.

“Oh good, you both are here.” Sirius nodded.

He was currently disguised—his hair was a light brown, and his eyes a bright blue. His skin was a little darker now, and he had a different looking nose, straighter perhaps, Harry couldn’t really tell.

They were about to be on their way to the Quidditch World Cup. Nick was already there with Sam and Everette. Elise couldn’t miss work, and Harry needed to finish his last summer training day before he could leave. So, Sirius agreed to take him and Hermione over. They would be meeting Neville there as well, who was coming with the Weasley clan.

“Alright, children, hold on to the bat.” Sirius extended a dented up wooden bat, his eyes on his watch.

Harry and Hermione grasped it firmly, and then held onto each other, knowing the portkey was about to be an extremely bumpy ride. They felt the pull and were soon careening through the air violently. When they arrived, Sirius stood above them, feet planted and smiling widely.

Hermione was on her side in the field, clutching her side in pain. Harry was not so lucky. He’d arrived right where someone else had been walking, and was currently the only thing holding him up.

A boy he recognized as Cedric Diggory was clinging onto his shirt, stretching the fabric as far as it would go. Harry was standing on one of the boy’s feet, holding onto his forearm. They let each other go and stumbled backward, exchanging apologetic smiles.

“Potter.” He nodded once he fully regained his balance. “Sorry about that.”

“Diggory.” He smiled. “Not your fault, I almost killed you.” he reached out to shake his hand and then left him to go check on his best friend.