~~~~HP~~~~

Harry locked himself away in his room for the rest of Thursday night; figuratively speaking, of course, because when you lived with two people who could use a simple alohomora to unlock your door it didn't really matter if it were actually locked or not. No one came into his room the entire night and the young wizard was left tossing and turning in his comfortable bed trying to sort through the complicated mess this summer was already becoming and it all led to one centralized idea: Ron, Hermione, and the Weasleys had joined the restarted Order of the Phoenix. Based on what Ron had said, it sounded as if Dumbledore was leading this group - which made sense since he was rumored to have been the leader in the first war - and Harry gave a sad laugh at how pathetic it was. Dumbledore held almost no power after Lord Voldemort took over and if that was who they were expecting to lead them into freedom, they would be greatly disappointed.

A deep-rooted anxiety settled into his chest as he laid in bed staring at his ceiling, listening to the crickets outside of his window. Were his friends taking a risk that would ultimately get their names listed in "The Missing" directory, or were they doing exactly what Ron had said: following his lead and actually trying to make a change in the world around them? They were Gryffindors. They were brave and chivalrous, and they should be standing up for those who were getting oppressed so unfairly. But he was raised by a Slytherin too, and one who was a Death Eater bearing the Dark Mark; if he even thought about joining his friends, Severus would be all over him and he'd never be allowed to go back to Hogwarts. Plus his biological father had died a decorated Death Eater for the values and principles Lord Voldemort believed in. It was confusing and only skimmed the surface of the issues plaguing his young mind, and so he continued to toss and turn until finally succumbing to his sleep sometime after three o'clock in the morning.

"Care to tell me what happened between you and Severus yesterday?" his mother asked over lunch the next day; Friday, the day of the Midsummer's Gala.

The mother and son had been sitting in almost pure silence while sitting next to each other at the kitchen table. Lunch that day consisted of grilled chicken salad, something that Harry didn't particularly like and had hoped for something a little more substantial before going to the gala where dinner would practically be a repeat from last Saturday's Brimstone Nova meal; almost too fancy to eat.

In general, his mother's question wasn't completely random, and it was something he was expecting sometime before Severus was home that afternoon. In order to get ready and to the gala on time, his stepfather would return by three o'clock, meaning his mum was cutting it kind of close to air out their grievances before the family of three were standing in a room full of Ministry personnel, Death Eaters, and Lord Voldemort himself trying to act like they were a happy, functional family.

"Not really," Harry sat back in his chair, prepared for a lecture that was certainly coming, "I'm sure he told you everything you need to know."

"Drop the attitude, Harry," she warned. Her eyes - the ones identical to his own and the only real thing he inherited from her - were filled with a combination of compassion and concern. "I'm not taking sides between the two of you. So, tell me what happened."

He thought about lying, but he hadn't lied to her before - at least not about something this important - and something inside of him felt wrong doing it now. Besides, he was sure she'd see things from his side if he could explain it correctly. So he decided he'd tell her the part that directly related to the issue with his stepfather.

"Severus doesn't want me to talk to Ron or Hermione any longer," Harry said, proud of himself that he didn't sound like he was whining over it. "He's 'forbidding' me from it actually."

She turned her head inquisitively, clearly feigning ignorance, telling the young Gryffindor that she had already known about the situation, "Did you happen to ask him why?"

The question threw him completely off balance; what difference did it make if he'd asked? No, he hadn't asked why and the reasoning didn't matter. Just because Severus was his stepfather didn't give him control over who Harry could talk to.

"It doesn't mat-"

She held her hand up to stop him from finishing that sentence, "Severus cares about you, Harry," she started, choosing to ignore the young wizard's rolling eyes. "And he's given you a lot of leeway lately, don't you think you owe to him, and yourself, to at least find out why he would make such a bold statement? Especially seeing as he's never gotten involved in your personal relationships previously?"

Harry felt his face start to flush, and he pressed his lips into a firm line as he considered his next move. He knew exactly why his stepfather had made the proclamation, it was obvious he'd been lying about Fred and George's joke shop story, but he didn't really want his mum to know about his conversation with Ron. It wasn't exactly lying; simply omitting the information that would make his life infinitely harder.

"He can't really forbid me from talking to them," the young wizard finally replied, "What about at school?"

His mum worried her bottom lip in a way that told Harry this would not end well for him. Her silence spoke volumes and the betrayal Harry felt back at the Leaky Cauldron flooded back into him as his heart sank.

"You agree with him, don't you?" the Gryffindor wizard asked almost breathlessly, ending the deafening silence that had fallen between them. His eyebrows furrowed trying to make some sense of what was going on with his parents, "What do you honestly think is going to happen?"

"Harry," she reached her hand out to him, but he pulled it away at the last moment not willing to give her the satisfaction of trying to ease his anger over the situation. "This is far more complicated than you think. You're fifteen years-"

"Almost sixteen," the young wizard interrupted, feeling even more juvenile for the statement.

"Yes," she conceded, "and even at sixteen, you're far too young to see the implications of the things around you."

To Harry, it sounded like she was taking Severus's side even if she claimed she wouldn't and instead of this causing him to think that perhaps his mother had a good reason for her position, it only made him more furious. He looked down at his hands that were clasped on his lap, hoping that somehow by focusing on how fingers were interwoven together would lessen the loneliness of being forced away from his friends and the feeling of betrayal from his parents that was growing inside of him. So what if his friend's family was involved in the Order? Severus had the Dark Mark and Mrs Weasley never stopped Ron from talking to him. If anyone had a reason to prevent their friendship, it was Mr and Mrs Weasley. And then, sitting in his small kitchen, next to his mum, Harry made another significant connection to his current situation. He was being forced - albeit by his parents who may or may not be within their right to do so - to adhere to a policy limiting something that was personal to him. It was the first time in his life he'd been denied something based on a generality. It felt wrong and the urge to fight against it, against his parents, was growing inside of him.

"Are we done here?" Harry eventually asked, not wanting to spend another second in his mother's presence.

"Harry," there she went saying his name again, like he was some little child who would melt into his mother's arms to make everything better by only the sound of his name. She was disappointed in him, he could tell by her tone, yet he found for the first time in his life, he didn't care. When he stood to leave, she grabbed his arm - quicker than he could pull away this time - and said, "We're doing what's best for you, to keep you safe."

Grimacing almost in pain from the words she'd said, the young wizard gave a sarcastic chuckle and replied, "That's funny, you sound just like the Ministry trying to justify their bloody regulations to the Muggleborns. Be honest, mum, does it make you feel any safer?"

He didn't wait for her to answer, something that would have gotten him in a lot of trouble with Severus, before he shook his head in disbelief and went back to his bedroom. He sat up in his bed trying to start on at least one subject of his summer assignments - Transfiguration, which was the hardest subject for him- never actually writing a single word down because all he could see was the look of pure anguish he'd caused in his mother's eyes.

No part of Harry wanted to go to the Midsummer's Gala that. It was one of the biggest private events the Ministry threw; there was always an ongoing debate regarding which was bigger: the Midsummer's Gala or the Christmas Gala and Harry hated both of them. There was something about the combination of needing to wear the stuffy formal dress robes, the suffocating atmosphere, and fake smiles accompanying even faker conversations that made the entire night completely dreadful. The gala was simply a way for the Ministry to demonstrate - while using the excuse of celebrating - their extensive power over their people. Then there was the fact that this was one of the only occasions where Lord Voldemort actually came out of whatever highly protected lair he lived in at almost all times, and therefore brought a lot of press to the event; press that would have to be approved by the Dark Wizard himself before being published. Harry never liked when he randomly saw himself in the background of one of the photographs on the front page article - which the gala was guaranteed to secure - meaning he would spend the night trying to stay as far away from anyone with any importance whatsoever.

Dressed in his brand new green dress robes, reminding him of the current animosity between him and his parents, Harry stood in line to enter the always extravagantly decorated ballroom at Malfoy Manor. Before entering the room that would single handedly hold all the top leaders in Wizarding Britain - Lord Voldemort, the Minister, and the top military generals - each attendee needed to be scanned through security and then surrender their wand. Every single year Harry saw Severus's hesitation to hand over the one tool he would need to keep his family safe should any situation arise, but his stepfather never said a word about the process. When he was younger, Harry never understood the complaints he'd hear the Potions Master express about the process as they were getting ready, but as he got older and started to learn more spell work, he knew exactly why the older wizard was so upset handing over his wand at each gala. Each time Harry had to surrender his wand since he got it at eleven, was harder than the last.

There were aurors there, of course, more than almost any other public event the young wizard had ever attended and given his soon to be internship in their department, Harry paid close attention to them and their specific duties. The auror responsible for checking every witch and wizard that passed through the doors was the tall, broad shouldered wizard, Kingsley Shacklebolt. As the Lead Auror - reporting directly to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Corban Yaxley - he was seen in almost every press release regarding the Ministry or the Malfoy family. To Harry, if he had an inspiration to be an auror, it was Shacklebolt. Not only did he make the job look easy, he had a calm around him that made even the most intense situations feel completely in his control. Who wouldn't want to surrender their wand when he made it sound completely reasonable to do so, reassuring everyone that he had their protection as his top priority so they could enjoy the night? On a personal note, the head auror's confident stance with his single gold earring helped make the position look cool, not that Harry would ever admit that to anyone. The other aurors in attendance were scattered throughout the entry hall outside of the ballroom, walking up and down the corridors throughout the Manor, and even though he couldn't actually see the others, he knew there would be a team standing guard around the perimeter of the grounds as well as inside the ballroom; the latter were likely undercover. It was probably the safest place to be in the world that night and the only way they could guarantee nothing bad could come upon their leaders.

"I hear you'll be joining us in the DMLE come July," Kingsley said to Harry while scanning him and tagging his wand to be safely held out of anyone's reach.

"Yeah…" Harry felt his face blanch at his casual response, "I mean, yes, sir. I am."

"And your father's alright with this arrangement?" The auror looked behind Harry's shoulder where Severus was getting his wand tagged and waiting for Harry to be finished with his security scan so he could be next, followed by Lily.

"It's a great opportunity for him to be sure this is the path he wishes to take," the Potions Master explained, and Harry was taken aback by his overall supportive demeanor, "I think we should utilize more of these hands on experiences for our sixth years before they end up in a position way over their heads."

Harry scowled at the last part, thrown in as a way to belittle the Gryffindor and his career choice. If he were being honest, which Severus never actually wanted nor did he ask, it was either auror or Quidditch player and he assumed the former was the preferred option. He'd hold the alternative until it was a real inopportune time to announce it.

Kingsley took the comment in stride though and after sharing a look Harry couldn't quite place, he motioned for the family of three to proceed into the ballroom, giving Harry a wink as he passed and said, "See you on the first, kid."

As always, the ballroom at Malfoy Manor was so breathtakingly exquisite that even someone in Harry's current negative mood couldn't help but gape at it when entering. He'd been here plenty of times - at least twice a year to celebrate each solstice - and yet he always took a couple of seconds to admire the beautiful architecture around him. This was the antithesis of Spinner's End. Where his home and neighborhood were missing the basics to their infrastructure, Malfoy Manor had every little minute detail excessively designed. Walking into the room, the white and black marble floors were almost floating him into the already crowded space, the design and decor only got more and more extravagant and luxurious. The wall directly across from the tall, heavy, fully wooden entry doors was covered in floor to ceiling windows overlooking the back gardens. Even from the other side of the hall, Harry could see the twinkling of different colored lights filtering through the sheer drapes, teasing the guests of what was to come in the gardens after the dancing was completed. There were balconies out there - Harry knew from experience - and the Midsummer's Gala was the opportune time to get to enjoy that space because no matter how many warming charms they used, it was always too cold at the Christmas Gala.

While the floor plan for the gala changed annually, finding their table was never difficult. Etiquette for a party like this was that the tables were arranged by importance with the highest ranking table at the front, looking out towards the guests, and the other circular tables arranged in front based on their ranking. This meant that while the table for the Department of Magical Education employees and their families might shift left to right between the years, it was always in the back perimeter of the room. When he was younger, the Gryffindor used to be angry that the department overseeing the education of young witches and wizards was considered one of the least important departments; admittedly, at least they'd gotten an invitation unlike Mr Weasley's Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department. Now, he could see why the DME was the least important because tonight was about the propaganda pouring from each fake conversation he had and the DME didn't have enough influence for that type of purpose. Tonight would be no different, everyone there was already anticipating Evert Abbott using the time before speeches and the dinner to meander around the room lobbying - pointlessly, Harry unfortunately noted - for the latest Muggleborn petition; Potions this year if Harry remembered Severus's complaint correctly from their first night home. Somehow that seemed so long ago and just like yesterday at the same time.

Although the gala invitation always was addressed to the Ministry employee, guest, and family, very few children or teenagers actually attended the Midsummer's Gala. The one for Christmas did tend to be a more family focused affair, yet no matter how much Harry pleaded, he was never permitted to stay home. Inevitably, that left him spending most of the evening with the only other teen who was guaranteed to be here: Draco. For this one day out of the year, they put aside their differences and both agreed that a function like this was not one enjoyed by children.

"Severus! Lily!" A familiar soft voice called from behind them as the family of three were making their way from their table in the back towards the balconies. Harry turned with his parents now behind him and came face to face with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "It's so great of you to come to the gala."

"But we're alw-" Harry started to state the obvious, but was interrupted by Severus's hand firmly gripping the top of his right shoulder.

"Thank you, for the invitation," his stepfather said, just as he did every single year. Harry questioned to himself if at some point, they had to know that it was all the same small talk year after year, "The ballroom is beautiful."

"And we were just about to check the gardens," his mum added, leaning from Harry's left side to shake both Malfoys' hands. Leaving Harry at the end, as always because he was the child after all and was of no influence to anyone.

"Will Draco be here?" Harry asked abruptly, earning his right shoulder another tight squeeze from Severus. This time he winced in pain, but either no one seemed to notice or simply no one cared.

Narcissa did her part and gave a little giggle, covering her mouth with her pale manicured hand, "He'll be along shortly, Mr Potter. It seems he was having a bit of a… complication this evening."

Harry couldn't help his smirk and was thankful that from the angle he was standing, his stepfather wouldn't be able to see it, less he ended up with another squeeze on his shoulder. From the specific choice of words, Harry could take a guess that his classmate was having a similar reaction to the gala as he was having. If he weren't already uncomfortable standing there in his dress robes and a little afraid of what Severus would do, he would have mentioned that to the Slytherin witch. Narcissa would probably find it amusing, however it definitely was not the time or place to make a comment like that.

With more aggression than was probably necessary - especially considering Severus wouldn't want to cause a scene - Harry pulled his shoulder out from his stepfather's grip. His parents were deep in conversation about some aspect of the Manor Harry cared little about. The fact that the Malfoys had owned the mansion for centuries before Lucius became the Minister for Magic was about the only impressive part of the story he'd heard dozens of times. The prestigious family had earned most of their fortune early on in the Apothecary industry and as far as Harry knew, they were still earning royalties from their companies.

While it seemed like a small part of the whole history not only of the Manor, but the Malfoys in general, whenever he heard it, he thought about what would have happened had Severus been chosen as the Minister. From the stories he'd been told, not necessarily from Severus because he never talked about that time of his life, he'd been pretty high up in the Death Eater ranks, so it was a possibility. Would they have allowed their Minister for Magic to continue to live on Spinner's End in the rundown town of Cokeworth? Probably not; so where would they have lived? Maybe they would never have moved from Godric's Hollow? Or, now that he really thought hard about it, would their Minister be allowed to marry a Muggleborn, especially so soon after the new policies; before Muggleborns were given the sliver of the rights they had? Harry shivered at the frightening thought that filled his mind: where would that have left him and his mum if she hadn't married Severus? How much of their "freedom" had been granted because of his stepfather's status as a high ranking Death Eater Halfblood or using his biological father's sacrifice? As a child, he never questioned how things happened after the war, but once that thought entered his mind, it was another that he couldn't let go.

Trying to distance himself as much as he politely could from his parents, the Gryffindor saw the delicately carved door across the ballroom open as Draco Malfoy finally entered the suffocating party. His grey eyes were reading the room around him and Harry wasn't sure if he was looking for someone in particular or just trying to make it look that way to avoid everyone all together. This year had brought a series of changes between the enemies and they had found themselves inching towards a vast neutral zone by the Christmas holiday. It wasn't until sometime in the second term that the Gryffindor recognized they had become fully engulfed in it. No longer were they shooting pointed insults towards one another, yet they weren't exactly friendly to each other either. Both teen's represented two sides of the same coin and somehow they had managed to co-exist without either side completely dissolving. If only the real world worked like that and there could be some kind of ceasefire from everyone.

His Slytherin classmate was weaving around the sea of tables covered in golden cloths and charger plates made from polished rubies, the color palette a perfect flair for the Midsummer festivities. The centerpieces were a varying display of different sized vases filled with a levitating ball of fire and opalized roses blooming out the top, their charmed petals a kaleidoscope of colors from fiery red to energized blues. Those seated around the round table would each get their own unique glimpse of the flowers, for no angle shared the same perspective and cacophony of colors. Briefly, emerald eyes met silver and the blonde midway across the room motioned his head quickly towards one of the four bars in the ballroom, a meeting place he wasn't sure his parents would allow. Giving a slight nod to the only person he felt he could remotely relate to at the gala, he started planning how he would kindly - and discreetly - excuse himself from his parents' side. He'd be sixteen at the end of July, born on the last day before the cutoff for his class's year and therefore making him literally the youngest of the incoming sixth years, and yet his parents still treated him like he was eight and couldn't be out of their sight even for a second. Originally, he'd been told it was for his protection given his biological father's sacrifice; the catalyst to Lord Voldemort's rise to power, and then it was because of his stepfather's position as a Death Eater, although he technically wasn't active and would only be called into battle as a last resort. And now, he was told it was because of the increased activity in the Order of the Phoenix, yet he was never really given a logical reason as to why that was significant.

Not wanting to interrupt the conversation between his parents and the Malfoys by yelling over the stringed band playing to the left of them, Harry gestured to his mum that he was going to go by Draco. Lily narrowed her eyes over in the young blonde's direction and Harry had no doubt his mother was debating if she could keep a close enough eye on him from across the expansive ballroom. When a scowl crossed her face, he turned and followed her line of vision to the bar where Draco was holding a glass of champagne and talking to Antonin Dolohov. He was unfortunately very familiar with the black-haired, dark-eyed wizard who was Severus and his father's fellow Death Eater. Unlike his stepfather - who took the first opportunity to put the military life behind him when the announcement was made that the Death Eater organization would become the basis for the military - Dolohov stuck with it and was eventually named the General of Commencement and Tactics, a title Harry knew nothing about. Of all the military generals and lieutenants, he was probably the most innocent and Harry found the few times they'd interacted rather amusing. His mother didn't see the General that way - with good reasoning - and therefore her eyes didn't leave the pair as they continued to speak at the bar, but she eventually gave him a small nod of approval for him to venture off.

Harry quickly and gracefully made his own way through the tables and guests, trying not to make eye contact with anyone he recognized as a Death Eater or prominent figure. The absolute last thing he wanted was to be pulled into a tactical conversation about some policy he was guaranteed to disagree with. The dynamic around him as he ventured towards the smallest of the bars was intriguing. In addition to the aurors who were undercover, creating their own charged atmosphere, there was a buzz surrounding key personnel Harry recognized throughout the room. Something was going on, and the Gryffindor somehow knew it had to do with the potential war on the horizon; the one he wasn't supposed to know anything about.

Luckily, Dolohov had left the bar - his glass of vodka sloshing around in his hand - and was in deep conversation with Yaxley as Harry approached the bar. Doing his best to avoid the head of the DMLE, not wanting to discuss his upcoming internship while he was already in the uncomfortable atmosphere of the gala, he released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding once he was safely at the bar.

"Nice… uh… party," Harry awkwardly greeted the Malfoy heir. Even in his newly bought dress robes, the Gryffindor felt inferior standing next to the Minister's son whose, most likely new, robes were made of some fabric Harry probably couldn't pronounce and cost more than Severus's monthly salary.

"Suppose it is," the other teen mumbled just as lamely as Harry's half attempt at a conversation. Apparently the Gryffindor had read Narcissa's statement correctly and he was as unexcited to be there as Harry was.

Harry nervously shifted his weight between his feet and in an effort to make conversation asked, "Will there be bonfires and fireworks?"

They had bonfires and fireworks every year, so it would be a simple answer, but it managed to galvanize some kind of conversation.

"Bonfires are going to be in the fountains this year. Mother is excited about it," Draco replied. And then he turned to the bar and summoned another glass of champagne from a server with a crisp bowtie standing behind the stonework bar that shimmered beneath the dimmed chandeliers and the dazzling parade of crystals. He gestured with his glass to Harry's empty hands and asked, "Is your father allowing you any?"

"Don't call him that," Harry answered coldly. It was the worst transition the Slytherin could have made given the last two days with Severus. Of course Draco wouldn't have known that, but he would have known - as many other guests didn't - how Harry's viewpoint on the man had changed drastically since starting at Hogwarts and how his title for the Potions Master shifted.

For the longest time after Severus had married his mum, Harry struggled with how to address his newest parent, and it only became more complicated after the adoption was finalized two years later. He'd settled on "Severus" because the man technically wasn't his father - and he had been very honest in stating that he wasn't trying to replace his father - and then he'd left it at that. However over the years, as they grew closer and Harry found himself thinking of Severus like his dad, the coveted title would slip unknowingly from his lips and neither one corrected him. Naturally, others called him Harry's father and, again, he never corrected them. Before he went to Hogwarts - and even for most of first year - Severus Snape was the only father Harry had and the unconscious decision to demote him back to stepfather was not done lightly. As a result of countless heated arguments over the Muggleborn policies and Harry's involvement in them, the young Gryffindor slowly went back strictly to calling the other wizard "Severus", or "Professor Snape" at school, and then continued to slowly shift some more and only referred to him as his "stepfather" when not addressing him by his given name. They never discussed it, but Harry could see the sorrow in Severus's onyx eyes whenever he'd heard Harry address him as such. Today, though - and specifically coming from the likes of Draco Malfoy - he didn't want to hear the older Slytherin referred to as his "father".

"Fine," Draco all but rolled his eyes, "Is the stepman coincidentally married to your mother and who legally adopted you as a parent allowing you to have any alcohol?"

It was dramatic, but not incorrect, so he didn't correct the first part. As for the alcohol, since he'd barely spoken two words to his parents that day, he hadn't asked about drinking at the gala. Harry simply shook his head and said, "I don't know."

The moment the non-committal answer was out of his mouth, he knew he should have just said no; a nice, clean-cut answer to the Slytherin that couldn't be misconstrued into some way against him. As expected, Draco turned towards the bar, ordered a flute of champagne and without any words, shoved it into Harry's hands.

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Harry asked as he slowly twisted the flute's stem between his fingers, debating how much trouble he would get in if either parent saw him drink it.

The blonde shrugged and casually looked away. "Better? No, not really. Just makes you not so bothered about feeling bad."

That was all that was needed to be said for the two boys to start their alliance that night. Draco didn't ask or pry for information on the choppy waters between Harry and his stepfather, and Harry seemed to relax from the gracious understanding. And neither said anything when their eyes would darken and occasionally stray towards their respective fathers.

Instead, they chatted about quidditch and the logic behind the Tutshill Tornados agreeing on a Keeper trade with the Kenmare Kestrals so late into the preseason. Or how the Wimbourne Wasps were looking defensively subpar with their new lineup when they were expected to play against the notoriously aggressive Ballycastle Bats in the season opening. They discussed the innovative strategy plays seen by Norway's Karasjok Kites when they faced off against Lithuania's team, Gorodok Gargoyles. And they laughed when the conversation took a more personal turn and they reminisced on their own experiences on the pitch. Both Seekers in rivaling houses, they exchanged friendly ribs at one another's flying tactics and form.

When the grand chandelier lights dimmed, signifying the start of the speeches and dinner, both boys found their way to their respective tables, their paths taking divulging courses. Harry made his way to the back of the room where he met his mum and Severus at their lone table tucked far in the back beside the tables for the Department of Magical Transportation and the Department of Magical Domestics and Housing. The guests at those tables looked just as bored as Harry was.

The head table was as strategically designed as the rest of the tables. The Minister for Magic sat in the middle with Narcissa to his right, followed by Draco and the top Military Generals: Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Rodolphus Lestrange. To Lucius's right was a chair left empty which wouldn't stay that way for long when Lord Voldemort finally graced the room with his presence. He only ever joined in right before the speeches started, refusing to mingle with people he viewed far below his own holiness; even as Purebloods or Halfbloods. Harry was alright with it because there was something about the serpentine man that he couldn't stand. His skin crawled when in the dark wizard's presence and his intuition told him to leave as quickly as possible. When Lord Voldemort entered, it was then that he was grateful to be in the back of the room.

Focusing back on his own table, as expected Harry was the only child in attendance, but he knew the other guest well enough at this point not to feel uncomfortable around them. Harry's place was always next to his mother, who was seated on

Severus's right. On the other side of his stepfather was Thorfinn Rowle, who oversaw the Dark Arts program that Severus consulted on. It was a strategic placement to put them besides each other, just like Evert Abbott sitting as far away from Severus as possible - with his wife, Isabelle - was not a coincidence this year. Every other year the wizard that was responsible for the Muggleborns' curriculum was seated at least a little closer and Harry wasn't sure if it was the potions curriculum or Harry's reputation from school that drove the decision to move the pair. No one else at the table was significant in the young wizard's eyes, but the empty chair next to him - the one that was adorned with the Dark Mark on its back - always made him uncomfortable. There was at least one of these at almost every table and while it was supposed to bring him honor, it made his stomach churn looking at it. Every year when he sat next to the chair that would remain empty, he wondered what his mum thought about it, yet he'd never had the courage to ask; not even that Gryffindor trait could help him overcome such an uncomfortable conversation.

Harry's attention was drawn to the double doors in front of him as the ballroom immediately became silent signifying the arrival of Lord Voldemort. The robed figure strode through the doors, not waiting for the Minister's press secretary, Miss Hopkins, to announce his arrival. Voldemort didn't need an announcement; no words could sum up his overbearing, intimidating presence, or prepare the party-goers for the stiff air that eclipsed the festive mood.

It only took a single second for every guest - except Draco who followed a second later - to rise to their feet in respect for their Commander General's arrival. Voldemort walked to the front table as if he didn't notice every pair of eyes on him, and addressed the ballroom full of his guests with a confident nod. That was all the guests would get from their leader who was far too important to give a formal speech or, Merlin-forbid, casually speak with any of them. Harry didn't think it mattered anyways because had the Dark Wizard actually attempted to make conversation with anyone in the room, he wouldn't get a real word from them; it would be more fake than even the dinner he'd had at Brimstone Nova.

Once Voldemort sat, everyone else followed suit. The air in the ballroom shifted and the stringed band played a softer tune to signal the start of dinner, with the first segment devoted to speeches. Harry heard the collective 'My Lord' from the head table, leaving him with goosebumps regardless of the stifling hot and suffocating room he was sitting in. The only negative he'd come up with for pursuing a career as an auror was the profound respect he'd be forced to give to the wizard that caused so many of his grievances.

"And it is now with utmost pleasure that I introduce the Minister for Magic, Lucius Malfoy," the press secretary announced, like they didn't already know the order of these functions.

The ballroom echoed with a wave of polite clapping as the always aristocratic wizard took the stage.

"Thank you, Miss Hopkins. It's an honor to stand here before you, and an honor to serve as Minister for Magic. I'd like to take this moment to commemorate the hard work, perseverance, and compassion shown by those who should, but cannot join us tonight. Many fought for us to be here. Many died. At each table, there are chairs left empty... chairs that should be occupied by fallen wives, fathers, brothers and sisters, friends, and loved ones. Their devotion to their people - to their families - has not been forgotten. Each and every day we strive to build this world in an image that will continue to honor their sacrifice, suffering, and pain."

The Minister paused, and a heavy silence descended on the ballroom. Harry hated this part of his annual speech because if nothing else, Lucius Malfoy was charismatic enough to move the guests with his words and inevitably the first chair everyone always looked at - the only time the Department of Education's table was noticed - was the one placed next to Harry that denoted not only a fallen Death Eater, but a fallen hero. His family was always placed at the location at their table where the other guest could see them and pay tribute to the wife and son who would always be missing a piece of their family. With his face flushing from the stares upon them, Harry's eyes met Draco's, the teen who hadn't lost a single person in the war, and they simply stared at one another until Lucius's voice rang through the ballroom once again.

"Midsummer Solstice is one of our oldest and most traditional of holidays, and we still observe it with as much fervor today as our ancestors did. Centuries ago - suffice to say before even Hogwarts was a school - witches and wizards have gathered in their communities to celebrate this important annual milestone. Not far from this very manor is Stonehenge, a fantastical archaic creation to measure the rising of the sun, especially on this most cherished day, and to signal the start of a new year.

"Originally, bonfires would be lit and wheels would burn, and the smoke would be used to chase away the dragon that would threaten the festivities. Draco de caelo, they called it. Or, 'dragon of the sky'. While we still burn bonfires and enjoy firework displays, I give you my word that there will be only one Draco in attendance tonight and he knows he'll be grounded if he tries to disrupt our festivities."

As if on cue, the ballroom erupted into a gentle tide of laughs, politely reserved and dainty.

"You say that joke every year!" Dolohov yelled from the place beside Draco, bringing on a renewed wave of roaring fake laughter from around the ballroom. Harry didn't laugh at either wizards' comment, again it was the same old things said every 21st of June. The only consolidation was that in the corner of his eye, he saw Severus was equally unamused by the two comments.

"And one of these years, I promise it will be funny," Lucius replied with a gracious chuckle, not missing a beat. The friendly banter, though unrehearsed and candid, would make it to the front page of the Daily Prophet the next morning, the headlines heralding their Minister as a warm and fatherly figure cradling their people with only the best of intentions. At least that's what Harry assumed until he heard what came next.

As the speech continued, the Minister's voice drew stronger, bolder, and prouder. It was something new and Harry interest perked up because anything new within the Ministry was likely bad news; at least for him. Severus's and his mother's attention was definitely increasing as Lucius spoke telling him that this time his instincts had been on to something right.

"Tonight, we light the bonfires to signify the passing of another year, and hope for the blessing and good luck for the glorious days that are ahead of us. For these coming days will no longer be filled with silence and pacifism, no longer will we celebrate in hiding and conceal our presence behind building facades and well placed memory charms."

The whole ballroom was awash with murmurs as each table interpreted what had just been said. Harry knew this was coming even if he didn't consciously know. Ron had mentioned a War Against Muggles and that was exactly what it sounded like their Minister for Magic was telling them… no, announcing to them. His breathing shallowed as his mind raced with the implications of this announcement. Not only did it mean their life was about to change drastically, it confirmed that the Order of the Phoenix had this information before the general public did; it validated that they could be as powerful as Ron alluded to.

Lucius squared his shoulders confidently, relishing in the attention his announcement had caused. "It is our time, my fellow witches and wizards. For over three hundred years, we have been banished to the shadows by forces that have existed in false security of their powers over us. For three hundred years, we have allowed a lesser people to oppress and subdue us, all the while the mismanaged ministry before Lord Voldemort placed these immoral adversaries' needs above our own. They placed our own oppressors' protection above the well-being and security of our children and blood. But no longer! Our current ministry, through the guidance of the proud Lord Voldemort, has the courage to face those oppressors who threatened us with danger of persecution. Lord Voldemort alone is to be thanked for the fact that a magical life has once again become a life worth living. For tonight births the start of not just a new year, but the dawn of a new era. An era when we unleash our might, show our power, and take back what is rightfully ours!"

The applause and roars of approval were deafening as everyone in the ballroom were suddenly on their feet, cheering for the words. Harry stood beside his mother, who had a well played look of approval on her face, but Harry could see the questioning in her eyes. Severus, who never showed emotion unless it was strategically planned - an excellent poker face, as Chris had told him once - had his mask of indifference firmly in place; like the announcement of their impending war didn't matter to him either way. For once, Harry wished he could see his stepfather show how he was really feeling inside because maybe if he could admit this announcement was just a little terrifying, then perhaps Harry would feel alright admitting just how scared he was for their future. Maybe then they could bridge some of the gap between them not knowing how important that would be to create a better future for the entire Wizarding Britain.

~~~~SS~~~~

There it was; the announcement that would forever change their lives as witches and wizards. And although he knew it was coming tonight, nothing prepared him for the panic that filled him up inside. As the stoic Potions Master stood alongside the rest of the gala guests, he felt Lily's left hand reach out for his right and gave it a small squeeze. Their sign that they'd be alright, they'd make it through this, too. Without looking at one another, the couple held hands hoping to be able to find some support and comfort in the shared fear they had for the life of their son; the redheaded witch not all aware that it was for very different reasons. When the roaring applause started to subside, he reached his arm around Lily for a quick embrace and gently placed a kiss on the top of her head. To any onlookers it would appear as a celebratory gesture; a way to assure his Muggleborn wife that she'd chosen the right path to stay with the Wizarding World. In reality, he was trying to comfort Lily and she would recognize it as his way of saying he'd take care of them through this upcoming battle; literally and figuratively.

The rest of dinner passed without much fanfare, not that Severus would have noticed if a herd of hippogriffs came running through the ballroom. His mind was far away to the upcoming war and the plans that would be going into place. Starting immediately, a new set of regulations would go into effect, such as an increase in their taxes, rationing of resources, and wireless monitoring, but there were three that would significantly impact his family: travel, the Hogwarts curriculum, and a compulsory military service requirement. Going forward, travel would be significantly more difficult for all blood statuses, however traveling for Muggleborns would be nearly impossible as the Ministry would assume they were attempting to aid their muggle relatives - not an issue for Lily, but no exceptions would be made - and would likely go as far as requiring them to be reassigned with the trace that was used for underaged witches and wizards. For himself, there was likely to be reform documents on his - and all of the other DME employees' desks - besides Evert Abbott, adding necessary lessons to prepare the upper level students for war. He could almost guarantee a file requiring all of his N.E.W.T classes to start preparing mass amounts of healing potions was already on top of the petition for Muggleborn Potions; which he'd now have to deny regardless of his previous feelings about it. Finally, and what was weighing heaviest on every parents' mind, was the idea of a Compulsory Military Service, requiring certain aged witches and wizards to participate in the war effort in some capacity. Unfortunately, as far as Severus knew, there were no current laws in place designating a specific age or familial obligations that could be exempt from getting pulled into the action. This meant that the Ministry could make up whatever guidelines they wanted, and Harry being within a year of his majority, did not bode well for him being exempt. Without any previous regulations in place, if they wanted to have first years boxing up potions in the Great Hall, nothing could stop them.

As dinner finished and the plates were magically cleared signaling the official end to the meal, guests abandoned their chairs to mingle, discuss the promising future on their horizon, and dance. The stringed band had jived up their harmonics louder, the songs now a more upbeat yet still serene rhythm to follow the night accordingly. The bars were refreshed with more cocktails and glasses of wine, and servers moved between groups to offer the signature after-dinner drink: flaming dragon's blood. Not real blood, it was a sophisticated mixture of raspberry, thyme, and rum in a crystal cocktail glass with the surface cast on fire. The flames were harmless and brought on cheers of glee and amusement from the party-goers.

Dancing was Lily's favorite part of the gala, and although Severus hated the activity in general, he would usually give into her enamoring eyes and dance at least a few select times during the night; ideally when most of the other guests had far too much to drink. Tonight, however, she sat at the table keeping a smile on her face to hide the turbulent feelings he knew were brewing inside of her. Lily looked exquisite in a soft, sandy yellow ball gown that fit her in all the right places. She wore her dark red hair down and in tight curls framing her pale face and bringing out the bright green of her eyes and watching her sit at the table beside him trying to keep a calm smile on her face was enough to make him do the unthinkable.

He leaned in, so close his lips almost touched her right ear, and whispered, "You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person here tonight."

As expected, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment over the direct comment, something he would have told her when they'd gotten married and throughout the years - without even realizing it - stopped doing. She tilted her head towards him, allowing him to place another light kiss on her temple.

"Let's dance," he held out his hand for her, not about to get talked out of it.

"Sev," she giggled at him, "isn't it a little early?"

Looking her in the eyes, to show how serious he was, he gave his head a small shake and replied, "Not tonight, it's not."

Giving her own head a small shake, she placed her hand in his and they made their way off to the dance floor. Severus was very conscious of his hand placed on her slim waist, as they practically floated around the ballroom. His goal was to take her mind far away from everything that had been weighing it down since the start of dinner and if he looked like a fool in the process, he'd simply have to be extra acerbic in the office Monday morning. Right now, he only had two things on his mind: keeping his wife calm and a close eye on his son - even if the teenager was not on talking terms with him - who was mingling with the aurors around the ballroom.

Severus was always prepared for the unexpected; likely leftover from his days as a spy and as such, he was hyper aware of the situation that was starting to take place around him. While all the other guests were watching the balcony doors open to show off a separate reception waiting in the gardens with cocktail tables lit by flaming torch centerpieces, succulent dessert stations, and three additional bars that when things went awry, he saw the single auror enter through the double doors and discreetly seek out Kingsley Shacklebolt. His heart rate increased as he looked around for Harry. All of the undercover aurors were now shuffling throughout the room in a way that only someone paying close attention would realize the urgency.

"Sev?" Lily stopped their rotation around the floor and took a half step back watching him, knowing something had to be going on to generate his reaction.

"We need to find Harry," he said, not letting go of her hand and pulling her through the unsuspecting crowd. Panic was rising within him as he couldn't find the Gryffindor anywhere; he wasn't by the bar - where Severus wouldn't expect him to be - nor was he by the balcony waiting to see the reception area where the bonfires were supposed to be, but the professor knew they wouldn't be having bonfires or fireworks tonight.

That's when it happened and everything happened so quickly, he wasn't even sure what triggered it. All of the doors leading to the ballroom, including the balcony ones that were just opened moments ago, were suddenly slammed shut without much care for the booming noise they emitted. Everyone looked around in shock, and the shock turned to alarm and, even quicker, to panic, when dozens of aurors - those assigned to undercover duty in the ballroom, and the others who entered in right before the doors were shut - were running through the crowds, urging everyone to sit back down at their tables. Severus knew better; he was supposed to go to the table and Harry would join them there, but as pandemonium moved through the crowd it became almost impossible for him to hear anything besides the loud echoing of the guests calling out for one another or see beyond the person directly in front of him. Having no visual on the young wizard in the crowd created a sense of fear Severus had never experienced before and Lily's hand squeezing his - as someone was attempting to work their way through them trying to separate the husband and wife in the process - told him she had the same fear coursing through her.

"Please! Take your seats! This is just a precaution!" Yaxley yelled from the stage, trying to calm the masses, but it didn't stop the guests from running throughout the room either to their seats as they should have been or to find their loved one. "We assure you, you are safe but please take your seats! An Auror will be arriving at each table to escort you to the disapparition point."

They should get back to the table; it was the most likely place Harry was, and without his wand, he couldn't protect his family anyway, he had to depend on the aurors. More screams filled the room as the aurors surrounded the exits casting extra protective wards along them. A flash of blonde crossed his face as he heard the familiar voice of Draco ask, "Where are my parents?" while he was being dragged from the room and out the doors; no doubt headed to a secure location.

I need to find Harry, was the mantra Severus said over and over in his head as he attempted to keep himself focused and the panic at bay.

"Severus!" Lily was pulling on his black robe sleeve and he realized she had been doing it for at least half a minute.

He turned expecting to see her own green eyes filled with the same anxiety he was filled with, but where there used to be fear was now filled with relief. Behind her, where her hand was pointing, was Harry standing on their table looking around the sea of dress robes and gowns looking for them.

"Harry!" His dark baritone voice was loud enough to get through the loud cacophony of yells to his son. The Gryffindor wizard waved his hands in the air signaling that he'd seen them. "Stay there!"

And for once, Harry obeyed. He stood still on the table, not caring that the water goblets, wine glasses, and champagne flutes were now spilled all over the tabletop, or that his feet were scuffing up the golden tablecloth. His son stood there, visible above the rest of the running guests until Severus and Lily made it back to him. The second Harry jumped from the table upon their arrival, both parents embraced him in a hug and to their surprise - or at least Severus's - the young wizard hugged them back. The room around him seemingly disappeared as all he could focus on was his family and the fact that, at least for now, they were safe with him. In no time, they'd have their wands back and be heading out to the disapparation point to go home.

"What's going on?" Harry asked him and Severus could hear the young wizard trying to keep the fear from creeping into his voice.

"I don't know," the Potions Master admitted, holding his family closer. He could go and try to find out; in another lifetime he probably wouldn't have thought twice about it, but not now.

Finally, Yaxley called to start evacuating the guests table by table - in order of importance, of course - meaning his table in the back of the room would be the last. Severus wouldn't feel safe until they had their wands, which would be right before they disapparated, and he was back in their home safe and sound. He wouldn't care if Harry never spoke to him again, so long as they were back home safe.

The guests were finally starting to calm down when suddenly the lights throughout the entire ballroom went out at once and another round of screams echoed across the expansive room. Instinctively, Severus reached out and grabbed tight onto Harry's robes, pulling him close between himself and Lily.

"You are safe," the calm voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed above them. "We've identified the issue, but unfortunately our wards will prevent us from relighting the lanterns. We're going to start taking out tables two at a time to expedite the process and get you back home quickly."

Harry's tightly gripped onto Severus's forearm, ironically right over his Dark Mark, when a light started shining to the left of their table, near the double doors.

"Hello, everyone," came a bubbly voice from beyond the lighted wand. The only identifying feature Severus could make out from the person holding the wand was that she appeared to have bright purple hair, an odd choice for the type of event she was working at, "my name is Tonks, and I'll be taking the Department of Magical Education to the disapparation point."

The name rang familiar before he finally recognized her face. Nymphadora Tonks started at Hogwarts in only Severus's second year of teaching. As a Halfblood, she had been allowed to stay in the regular courses earning her the ability to join the aurors after she finished Hogwarts the year before Harry started. She'd been acceptable in Potions, even though she earned the required marks, and he had his doubts on her ability to succeed as an auror. Ironically, his safety now fell into her hands.

"Hey there, professor," she greeted him as she made her way around the table handing back their previously confiscated wands. "We'll get you guys going really soon."

"I have no doubts in that, Miss Tonks," he answered, relishing in the feeling of holding his wand again. There was something about not having it during the emergency that made him feel off; like he was missing a piece of himself right when he needed it the most.

As expected, being in the far back corner of the room, they were practically the last to be taken from the ballroom to the place outside of the anti-apparation wards where they could disapparate back home. With Lily under one arm and Harry under the other, Severus walked directly in front of Tonks using her light from behind him as a guide to find his own way to the edge of the wards he knew so well from their plentiful visits. In hindsight, it was probably the worst spot to walk because this particular auror - how the professor could have forgotten this fact, he'll never know - was extremely clumsy and seemingly tripped on her own boots at least twice during the walk out of the manor and through the grounds, bumping face first into both Severus and Harry before they decided to move over a bit.

"You guys are free to go," Tonk called once they crossed the wards.

"Wait," Harry called out to the Metamorphmagus before she turned to leave. At this point, only Severus and his family remained, a fact that caused the professor's hair to rise; the longer they stayed - especially beyond the wards - the more dangerous it became. "What happened? Was the manor attacked?"

The smile Tonks gave to Harry did nothing to ease Severus's mind, "No, kid. As Yaxley said, there was no danger here." She paused and looked around them as if she were contemplating if she should continue. Whatever process she went through worked in the Gryffindor's favor and she eventually added, "We got word of an attack by the Order. It's alright though, nothing we can't handle. I'm sure your dad will tell you all about it."

And then she gave him a wink and ran - tripping only about five meters into her journey - back to the manor.

"I can side apparate you both," Severus said, refusing to let go of his family.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sev," Lily laughed and somehow that seemed to ease some of his anxiety. "You take Harry and I'll meet you there."

"No," he answered firmly. "You go first, this way I know you're safe."

"Fair enough. See you at home," she gave him a kiss and Harry a hug before disapparating to their front stoop; the closest she could get within their own heavy duty wards.

"Ready?" Severus asked his son. It was the first real word he'd said to the Gryffindor since the other night at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry looked up at him with concern filling his emerald eyes. They had a lot to discuss, but could do that another day; tonight he needed to get them home. After what looked like a small internal struggle, the young wizard nodded and stood closer to Severus to prepare for the awful feeling of side-disapparation.

"Thank you," Harry whispered as he held onto his stepfather tightly and prepared to leave the gala. Neither wizard acknowledged the two words Harry had said; no good would come from pointing out that no matter how much Harry seemingly hated him, he'd always take care of the young wizard. They both left for home, unknowingly taking with them the two separate missives that the Hufflepuff auror snuck in their robe pockets when the light had been out in the Manor.