Monday morning, Harry woke up late, again, and had barely time to grab some toast and jam before the end of breakfast. He hurried off to Potions. Malfoy caught his eye when he entered and nodded to the seat beside his own. Harry, with a slight twinge of apprehension, sat beside the Slytherin.

He had not quite got all his things out and ready before Snape came in. The professor reprimanded him for his laziness and took ten points from Gryffindor. He also looked distrustfully between him and Malfoy. Harry gave the barest shrug, and Snape pivoted and glided off to the front of the room.

"This week," he said, "we are starting concealment potions. Today we will do the simplest of these, the Hunter's Stealth Ointment, which prevents the leaving of any scent. As those of you with any facility in Herbology will recall, the leaves of Diana's Treasure will do this, to some extent, when simply rubbed on the body and the soles of the shoes. The Ointment, however, combines this natural masking ability with several magical agents of occlusion, producing a far more powerful...."

By the end of class, Harry knew quite a lot about masking agents. Malfoy had not interfered with him in any way. However, as he was packing up, Malfoy said:

"Walk with me."

Again, they let the rest of the class get a bit ahead. Harry was expecting something about Malfoy's father, or perhaps an attack, or a question about Dark Arts. He was taken by surprise when Malfoy asked:

"Why are your friends -- or former friends, as it may be -- interested in Augustus Maitland?"

Harry tossed up his hands in exasperation. "Professor Snape mentioned him!" he said. "That's it -- just 'you would find his history educational' to Ron, when Ron was being House-blinded about something. Except he did it when Hermione was there, and she latched on."

"Why would Snape mention him, though?" Malfoy asked, as they started up the stairs. "Was he important?"

"I think just as a Gryffindor Death Eater," Harry explained. "Not like they haven't already met a Gryffindor Death Eater, but Ron managed to be shocked, anyway."

Malfoy looked thoughtful. A landing further up, he said. "All right. I give. Who?"

"What? Oh, Pettigrew ... Wormtail. A Marauder, no less."

"Marauder! How would you know that?"

Harry looked curiously at Malfoy. "Er ... other Marauders told me?"

Malfoy looked puzzled. "We must be talking about different groups. The Marauders I've heard of were a group of clever, aggressive Gryffindors about twenty years ago--"

"Headed by James Potter."

Malfoy stopped short. "Your father was a Marauder?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, that James Potter."

"Do you know who the others were?"

"Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin."

Malfoy stared. "Professor Lupin doesn't strike me as the sort."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy! You must know the difference between someone who'll cause trouble on his own, and someone who'll go along when his best friends are cajoling and teasing and saying it will be fun."

"Oh." Malfoy considered this for a moment, then smirked. "Yes, I do." He raised his eyebrows. "And your father?"

"Oh, absolute trouble. Even the people who loved him say so."

Harry and Malfoy walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Harry looked for Ron and saw he was already seated with Hermione. There were no free seats adjacent to theirs. Harry spotted a free seat next to Neville, up at the front of the room. As he approached it, he was aware of his classmates watching him walk beside Malfoy. Harry rather expected Ron to glare at the Slytherin, but Ron seemed to be avoiding looking at Malfoy, at all. Harry sat by Neville, and Malfoy sat down across the aisle, next to Terry Boot, whom he made shift over.

At the front of the room, Professor Lupin was fiddling with an odd looking piece of equipment. It had a long, grey cylinder, about the height and width of a cat, but twice as long, set on a wooden base with two dials on it. Harry was close enough to see him set one of the dials as low as it would go. When everyone was seated, Lupin set his wand to the device, causing a quick rising scale to emit from it. The scale changed to a steady, quiet tone, which stilled as Lupin stepped to the side. He turned to the class.

"Good morning, everyone. This week, and the next, I plan to review a number of devices commonly used in detecting Dark Arts, enemies, danger, and deceit. I'm sure all of you have encountered some such device -- a Sneakascope, or a Foe Glass. There are many of them, and all have their uses -- also their limitations. Today's device is a Dark Detector of the Kerner design. It emits a tone in the presence of Dark energies, with the tone and volume varying by the type and intensity of the energy."

Ernie Macmillan raised his hand.

"Yes, Ernie?"

"Do you set it off?"

Lupin smiled slightly. "A good question. It depends on the phase of the moon. As I expect you noticed, the device now emits a slight tone when I am close to it." He stepped towards the Dark Detector, causing it to produce a quiet, high tone, then stepped away again. "This is really the most spectacular of the devices I will show you, and normally I would save it for the end of the session, however, by next Friday, which is the day of the full moon, I would need to shout to be heard over the alarm my disease would evoke."

He scanned across all of them. "With this information, you should be able to determine the chief limitation of this device, explain why it is not admissible as evidence of any wrongdoing, and identify one of your classmates who will set it off dramatically. Anyone?"

An awkward silence descended on the class. Neville glanced past Harry at Malfoy. Harry looked at Remus's tranquil smile, and decided the professor couldn't be referring to Malfoy. Remus saw this demonstration as harmless. Sighing, Harry raised his hand.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Me, sir?"

"Quite right. Ten points to Gryffindor. Please come demonstrate."

Reluctantly, Harry stood up. Everyone was staring at him. He decided he would not be embarrassed. He drew himself up straight, and walked proudly to the front of the room, turning in front of Lupin to face the Kerner Dark Detector. A step towards it, and it emitted a loud, deep scream. Despite his resolve, Harry jumped back. Someone giggled nervously.

More cautiously, Harry stepped forward again. While Remus's presence had caused only a high, quiet, wail, Harry's provoked a deafening, strident roar, which continued without break or modulation. This time he was ready for the racket, and stood still until Remus motioned him back.

"There," said Lupin. He rubbed slightly at the ear that had been closest to the alarm. "Now, you will recall that I said you should all know one of your classmates would do this. Can any of you tell me what limitation of the Kerner Dark Detector we have just witnessed? Padma?"

"The Kerner Dark Detector cannot distinguish between someone who has been cursed with Dark Arts and someone who has been using Dark Arts."

"Exactly! Ten points to Ravenclaw." Lupin gestured at Harry. Harry wondered if he was ever to be invited to sit down again, or if he should just slink back to his seat undismissed. "However, Harry is not merely cursed, as I am. I spent some of my weekend investigating curse scars, and Draco's assertion is correct -- the scar maintains a link, of sorts, to the caster. Thus the effect we get from Harry is a small portion of the effect we would get from Voldemort, himself."

He smiled reassuringly at the class, several of whom had twitched at his use of the name. "Now, anyone who wishes to is welcome to come up and attempt the Dark Detector. I will not assume anything from a positive response."

Malfoy, to Harry's surprise, stood.

"May I, sir?"

Lupin hesitated only slightly. "If you wish, Draco."

With a smirk, Malfoy walked up to the front of the class. A few feet away from the device, he stopped. His smirk vanished, and his eyes fell closed. Slowly and deliberately, he stepped forward until he was in arm's reach of the device. It remained silent. Everyone stared.

Slowly, Malfoy opened his eyes. He still looked oddly placid, Harry thought. "It has another limitation, sir," he said quietly. "If you know how, it can be manipulated."

Suddenly, his face was alight with mischief and malice. The Dark Detector erupted into a multi-toned keening. Malfoy laughed viciously, then took a step back. The noise decreased with the distance, then dropped further as Malfoy did something less visible.

Occlumency, Harry thought. It's got to be. "Let me try!" he said eagerly.

"You need to know how, Potter," Malfoy said derisively, but Harry, not waiting for permission, stepped forward. The low, loud roar began again. Carefully, Harry worked on clearing his mind, dampening his emotions, and with them, his link to Voldemort. The wail shifted higher in tone and dropped dramatically in volume, until it was only slightly louder than Remus's alarm. Harry let his eyes open and found himself looking over the device into uncharacteristically wide grey eyes.

"I'm pretty good at improvising," Harry commented.

Draco smirked and stepped forward. The multi-toned wail returned. Harry leaned his head back and let his control erode slowly, adding a lowering crescendo to Draco's clamor. He flashed a smile at the other boy, whose face was now in an ecstasy of power.

Harry tried maintaining his emotional openness, but concentrating on happy, generous, loved feelings, like when Ron had made up with him during the Tri-Wizard tournament. This left his volume unabated, but caused a shift in his tone. Draco's face calmed as he did something similar, cutting his mix of tones down to two, and matching the volume to Harry's. Harry tried to shift his tone enough to bring it into harmony with Draco's.

The effort was exhausting, but also consuming. It wasn't until his eyes began to sting that Harry realized he was dripping with sweat. He looked across at his counterpart and saw the blond's face also had a feverish sheen. He stepped back. "Draco?" he asked uncertainly.

Suddenly, he was aware of the classroom, again. Draco jerked back, cutting the noise to nothing. Harry felt himself redden. He looked apologetically at Remus, who was plainly horrified.

"Sorry, sir." His voice came out shaky and weak. "May I sit down, now?"

"Please do."

At the end of the lesson, Harry still felt weak. He realized he'd hardly eaten breakfast, which probably had worsened the strain of manipulating the Dark Detector, and he was afraid his activities might have piqued Voldemort's interest.

While he was messily shoving his book and parchment into his bag, he became aware of someone standing in the aisle and blocking some of his light. With trepidation, he looked up. It was Draco, watching him.

Harry didn't know what to say. The Slytherin's expression was unreadable -- the same vaguely disdainful look that his father had when evaluating something. Harry looked down at his hands, where they were clenched around the handles of his bag. After a moment, he heard Draco leave.

He took the time to steady his breathing before he stood up.

The other sixth-years had all left. Remus was leaning against his desk, watching Harry thoughtfully.

"Harry..."

"Don't," Harry said fiercely.

"I'm not angry at you."

"Fine, but I'm exhausted, and I need food, and whatever you want to say, I don't want to hear it."

"Don't trust Malfoy."

"Weren't you the one talking about how everyone has their good points?"

"Not exactly, and even if that is true, in theory, I am not thinking about theory, now. I'm thinking about a young man whom I love very much, and who is, as far as I can tell, estranged from his friends, and might, perhaps, be inclined to make inadvisable new ones?"

"Remus, please. I'm fine." Harry hesitated. "And I might like to make friends of a sort with Malfoy, but trust would be a bit much. I promise I'll be careful."

The werewolf looked down. "I worry about you," he said softly. "Perhaps it's unreasonable -- but you're all that's left. Would you give me a regular social visit? Say, Sunday afternoon, from four to six? It would give me time to talk to you -- to let me know I haven't lost you."

"You haven't lost me." On the contrary.

"But will you?"

Harry nodded. "I'd like that." He looked severely at Remus. "No more truth magic, though. It makes me feel like I'm being interrogated. Let's just visit."

"Of course."

Hermione fumed on the way down the stairs. "That ... brat! I can't believe Harry would take a complicated piece of Auror equipment and start playing it like some sort of badly-tuned theramin!

"I can't believe he'd do something like that with Malfoy!" Ron returned.

"He's been strange about Malfoy since school started."

"Perhaps it's--" Ron stopped speaking. A moment later, Hermione realized he was no longer walking beside her. She turned around and looked back. Ron was still standing on the stairs, looking like a dragon was coming up at him.

"Ron?" She took a few steps back up towards him.

"Hermione." Ron was still looking like something terrifying was approaching them. Hermione glanced down the stairs, but saw only the backs of descending students. "I need to go find Ginny," Ron said quickly. "Meet us in the Transfiguration classroom." With that, he started off.

"But...." Hermione began, but Ron was already a flight down. With a gesture of surrender, she followed.

She saw Ron catch Ginny in the corridor, and lead her back into McGonagall's empty classroom. Hermione joined them and shut the door.

"She's here," Ginny said sharply to Ron. "Now tell me what's so important."

Ron looked at Hermione. "I was thinking about why he might be different about Malfoy. And first I thought maybe it wasn't a joke, and they really are brothers...."

It took Hermione a moment to remember what Ron was referring to. "You mean the Paternity--" she stopped, as he had on the stairs. "Oh."

"Right. We've been total idiots." He glanced at his sister. "Not you, Ginny; you didn't know. You were clever -- too clever -- and we should have known better."

"Ron! What are you talking about?" Ginny demanded.

"This summer," Hermione explained, "Harry was asking about something called the Paternity Charm. It's a spell to make someone look like another father. I didn't have anything on it at home, and never looked it up here, because he said it had just been a joke someone played on him...." She looked despairingly at Ron.

"Utter prats!" he said furiously. He hit the wall with the side of his fist, then spent a while jumping up and down swearing silently.

"I don't understand," Ginny said.

"I ... we need to find details," Ron managed, clutching his hand, "but Mum said something about the Paternity Charm not being permanent. Harry probably looks different because it's wearing off, not because he's a different person."

"You mean James Potter wasn't really his dad?" Ginny exclaimed.

"He's been saying 'James,' more," Hermione interjected. "Did you notice? When he was saying that Peter liked watching James and Sirius bully people?"

"I noticed it was an odd thing for him to say about his dad," Ron replied. He was still clutching his hand.

"And that would be political," Ginny said, finally catching up. "I mean, it isn't something he could tell anyone, now, is it?"

"But why should it matter?" Hermione argued. "He's not famous for being James Potter's son; he's famous for surviving the Killing Curse and destroying Voldemort's power."

"But his dad matters," Ginny explained. "His mum and dad matter as a couple, too. I mean, they got a lot of attention from the papers, like Harry does. The well-born Wizard and the Muggle-born girl, you know -- like a fairy tale. It was very romantic -- my Mum's talked about it, and she says they actually were that darling, together."

"Right. So, if she was unfaithful to him--" Ron stopped speaking, though his mouth stayed open. His eyes widened. As on the stairs, Hermione actually glanced behind her to see if anything had come at them.

"What?" she urged.

"Well... What if she wasn't?" Ron said, in horrified tones. "What if his mum was raped -- by a Death Eater? They were captured, once, and escaped. Or if it was...."

"Voldemort," Ginny completed, in hushed tones.

Ron twitched. "Right!" he exclaimed. "If Harry is You-Know-Who's bastard, they couldn't risk anyone finding out."

"Especially if Voldemort doesn't know," Ginny added.

Ron shivered and sunk back in contemplation of this horrible thought. Hermione considered it as well.

She decided she liked the theory. She found she didn't really care who had fathered Harry. Whether he was biologically James Potter's son, or Voldemort's, or some random Death Eater's, might matter to wizard genealogists, but she felt that it was hardly anyone else's concern. She could understand, however, with the import that wizards placed on bloodline, that such a revelation would require major secrecy. Harry probably would be prohibited from telling them, even if his unknown father were someone of equal rank and similar politics, like Sirius.

"So his behavior...." she said, musing out loud.

"Well, I know I'd be knocked sideways if I suddenly found out I wasn't a Weasley."

Hermione tried to imagine being told that her dad wasn't her father, possibly that her father was someone her mother had hated or feared, who had taken her by force. What would she do? Go find Ron, she thought, or Harry, or Ginny, and.... "Especially if you couldn't tell anyone about it," Hermione said, aghast. She reddened. Ron glared at her.

"Especially, if one of your best friends wouldn't talk to you at all," he said nastily.

"Well, it's not like you've been dependable either," Hermione said defensively. She bit her lip. "But ... yes."

"I've only fought with him about Malfoy!" Ron snapped. They both fell silent. Hermione could still picture Harry looking up and uncertainly meeting Malfoy's eyes across the Dark Detector. The sudden flash of a smile across his face had been matched by a knowledgeable smirk from Malfoy, and they had connected. She had seen Remus, on the far side of them, shiver when it happened.

"If he becomes friends with Malfoy...." Hermione said slowly.

Ron groaned. "It will be our fault, won't it?" he said.

Hermione was grateful to him for not saying "your fault." He could certainly argue that it was more hers. "Mine more than yours," she confessed. "But...."

"Let's get to lunch," Ron said, a trace of panic in his voice.

"Wait!" Ginny exclaimed. "First, none of this leaves this room, right?"

"Right!" Ron answered.

Hermione nodded. "Right."

"Okay. Let's go."