November 1979

"We just found out that Lily is expecting," James explained to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and his old headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, after the latest order meeting where they learned about a prophecy made by Sybil Trelawny. "She's due at the end of July, the 29th to be exact."

Albus had listened to his young member's concern as open minded as possible. It would be the first of two conversations he would have about this exact topic and he would answer them both the same way. There was no way to know how these two pregnancies - children born during the most turbulent of times - would forever be affected by this not-so-simple prophecy.

"James," he reassured the young man standing before him concerned about his new wife and future child, "there are other conditions to keep in mind regarding the prophecy. I would not be overly concerned about it at the moment. We can discuss once we have a better idea of what it means. Try to enjoy this time with Lily, it's such a special time."

But James wouldn't be able to enjoy the small moments any normal expecting father should be able to enjoy - like laughing at Lily's strange cravings, trying to guess if it was a boy or a girl, and even thinking of baby names - knowing that him and his wife had already stood up against the evil wizard on two occasions. As the months went on, all he could think about was that the prophecy said the child would be born to those who had thrice defied him and preventing one more defiance was something he could control. There was no other way to look at it; to protect his family, James was left with only two options: quit the Order and hope one of them didn't accidentally go up against Voldemort for a third time, or take fate into his own hands. He was a Gryffindor, after all, so the former option wasn't even fully considered.

August 1980

When Severus Snape opened the door, the last person he expected to see standing outside of his home on Spinner's End was James Potter. And yet, the Gryffindor didn't appear lost or confused about why he was standing outside on the stoop of this dilapidated brick house.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Potter asked a bit aggressively for being the one clearly needing something.

"No," Severus bluntly answered. He narrowed his eyes and asked, "How did you find me?"

The messy haired wizard shifted his weight on his feet as he considered how honest to be with his answer, "There was an old letter I found in Lily's desk and I took a chance you still lived here."

Severus made no outward appearance of believing the explanation as he tried to ascertain if what he was hearing made sense. Deciding there was no possible way he was trusting James Potter, he folded his arms over his chest and refused to step aside.

"Fine," Potter conceded and turned to walk away, but stopped himself. Still facing away from Severus he said, "She had a little boy last week. We have a son, Harry, and he was born two days late on the 31st of July."

The announcement stung so deep inside of him that he didn't even consider the significance of the date, "If you expect my congratulations, you're going to be deeply disappointed."

"No," he laughed in a sad way, turning back around. "I don't expect anything like that. I need your help to protect them. I know you'd do just about anything for Lily and she'd be completely broken if anything happened to Harry."

It took all of Severus's resolve not to physically react to the request. Never did he think James Potter could ask anyone for help, let alone Severus Snape. However the more he thought about the request and the date of the Potter spawn's birth, he recognized it had to do with the prophecy.

Leave it to Potter to assume his son would be The Chosen One.

"And how do you expect me to do that?" He was almost as amused as he was curious about what the Gryffindor had in mind. If he were honest with himself, he didn't want any harm to come to Lily either, so as long as the request was reasonable he would likely grant it.. When he'd told the Dark Lord about the prophecy all those months ago, he hadn't known Lily would become pregnant shortly after, and when the news hit him of her condition, he wished on anything he could that the Dark Lord wouldn't find out. And now he was being told she gave birth literally as the seventh month died; there was no doubt in his mind that news would eventually make its way back into the wrong hands.

"I want to join him," Potter glanced down at Severus's left forearm to make sure there was no misunderstanding and gave his head a quick nod.

The air between them shifted and seemingly dropped in temperature, as if a Dementor had lost its way from Azkaban and ended up in Cokeworth, "And how do you think that will save your offspring?"

"I can't defy him if I'm on his side," it was a weak argument, at best, and Severus knew the Dark Lord would see right through him.

Knowing it was probably a bad idea, Severus stepped aside anyways to allow the desperate wizard in. If Potter was serious about pledging himself to the Dark Lord to keep Lily safe, Severus would do his part to help, still feeling the same love he had for the Gryffindor witch after all these years.

21st May, 1985

If anyone would have told Severus how much his life would change from that first visit of James Potter at his doorstep, he wouldn't have believed a word of it. Given that Potter was a renowned member of the Order of the Phoenix, it didn't surprise Severus nearly as much as the other Death Eaters when the Dark Lord jumped at the opportunity to have a spy among them. As expected, Potter was placed through a series of tests - both physical and mental - to ensure he was worthy of the Mark and he had been required to make the mandatory muggle killing at his initiation. Severus didn't think the golden Gryffindor had it in him and was once again shocked when he had been able to cast the killing curse on his first attempt; showing just how desperate the man was to save his family. That was as far as the trust went though, and Severus had been assigned as his partner, so to say, by the Dark Lord. Whenever they were called, Severus was to stay by his side.

At first, they'd had their growing pains, but against all odds - as they started needing to depend on one another during the various raids - they managed to go from enemies, to colleagues, to almost friends fighting side by side for a cause neither of them believed in; or no longer believed in for Severus's case. The two had grown close enough that given what had happened that night, the Slytherin felt like he needed to be the one to make this visit to Godric's Hollow.

It was around two o'clock in the morning and he immediately cringed when he knocked on the door, hoping it didn't wake three-year-old Harry. This was not a social visit and his presence would not be welcomed when the new widow finally understood the purpose of him standing on her doorstep. Unfortunately - or not, he wasn't completely sure - he didn't have to say much.

"Severus," Lily called out when she opened the door, pulling her green dressing gown tightly around her body. The emerald color brought out the same color of her eyes, making this all the more difficult for him. "What's going on? Why are you here? Where's James?"

"Lily," he said quietly, not turning away from her, he didn't deserve this to be easy on him. "I'm so sorry."

That was all it took for her to know that her life had completely changed. She fell straight down, where he managed to catch her only a split second before she made contact with the ground. She didn't hear him when he'd explained how the young Death Eater, only there to keep his family safe, died protecting the dark wizard against a band of aurors in one last battle at the Ministry. Tonight, on top of her husband dying, the Minister for Magic was murdered and the Ministry fell to the Dark Lord, meaning that their lives would need to change drastically; it was now to their benefit to appear loyal to the Dark Lord and to cut any remaining ties to the Order immediately in an effort to do whatever he could to protect Harry. It also meant that James Potter had now died a hero, instead of just some random Death Eater, and Severus would take what had really happened that night to his grave.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry James Potter grew up knowing two very important things: his family was kind of famous in the wizarding world, and his biological father died with honor in battle when Harry was only three years old. It was a story his mum told him every 21st of May, on the anniversary of James's death, and by now the fifteen year old Gryffindor could almost repeat it verbatim. Harry had been proud of the man his father was, at least until he started at Hogwarts and learned more about the other side of the war from his roommates. James Potter had been a Gryffindor - just like Harry and his mum, Lily - and everyone knew Gryffindors stood up against Voldemort. Except sometime soon after Harry was born, his father joined the Death Eaters and quickly climbed his way up the ranks. No one really knew what he'd done to gain that much trust in such a short time, but when he'd died - killed by an auror while heroically protecting the Dark Lord - James Potter was awarded the greatest of posthumous honors; and Harry's family was officially written into the history books.

Harry had just finished eating breakfast for the last time in the Great Hall until he returned in September for his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had returned back to his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower that he shared with Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan - a Pureblood and a Halfblood like himself - partially to make sure he had the rest of his things packed before he went back home for the summer, but mostly to get away from one professor's watchful eye. Looking around the circular room, the young wizard was brought back to the moment he first stepped into his dormitory back as a first year and saw the three beds - adorned in their rich red fabrics - and when he started to see things from the other side. His new friend, Ron Weasley, had to explain to him that Dean Thomas, another new Gryffindor Harry had spoken to at the Welcoming Feast, wasn't allowed to stay with them because of his unknown blood status. Without knowing who his father was and having a muggle as a mother, the other boy was presumed to be a Muggleborn and therefore forced to stay in a single boys dormitory on the other side of the common room with all the other Muggleborn Gryffindor boys. It was the first time, of many over the next five years, that Harry's eyes were opened to the injustices around him simply because of something these children had no control over.

"Hey, Mate," Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, said approaching his bed and sitting down with a grunt, "thought you were packed already?"

Harry looked over at his trunk that held all his possessions he needed while away from home during the school year. Ron was right that it had been packed last night, but Harry didn't want to stick around in the Great Hall idly waiting for everyone to leave. Unlike every other year, he was not permitted to take the Hogwarts Express home this year. Lately, the Daily Prophet had been reporting about the Order of the Phoenix - a supposed resistance group against Voldemort back during the war - being sighted again and his mum insisted that, for his own protection, he floo directly home this year with his adopted father and professor at his school, Severus Snape.

For the longest time, Harry and his mum lived alone in their Godric's Hollow home after his father was killed. Being a Muggleborn, Lily Potter wouldn't normally be allowed to continue to live in the wizarding village alone with her son, however her husband's heroic death set her apart and certain conditions had been overlooked for them. Harry never knew about any of that, or the massive amount of hearings she had to attend to make it happen, as he was too young when Voldemort's regime had taken over. If he thought hard enough, he could almost remember bits and pieces of their life together when it was just the two of them, before his stepfather - who later adopted him without Harry's input in the matter - moved in. Harry had known Severus his whole life and the man always treated the young wizard as if he were his own son, even before he'd married Lily when Harry was almost six. At the time, Harry couldn't remember his biological father and having a dad to hang out with - not to mention his mum was more relaxed after they'd gotten married - was exciting. The current animosity between them didn't begin until the young Gryffindor started at Hogwarts. That was the time his emerald eyes started to open to what was going on in the world around him, and more specifically, how his family was intimately linked to it all.

"You're right, I am already packed," Harry replied with a swift kick of his trunk before sitting beside his best friend. "I just didn't feel like sitting around watching everyone get ready to leave and then having Snape constantly watching over my shoulder."

"It's been a rough year between you two. If nothing else, at least you've given the rest of students something cool to talk about," Ron gave him a sympathetic look with a shrug of his shoulders. "Too bad you can't sneak home with me, mum probably wouldn't notice you there at least until mid-summer."

Harry laughed, but it wasn't a happy one, it was laced with a sorrow that ran deep inside of him. To say the year had been rough between him and his stepfather was an understatement and he appreciated his friend's attempt at lightening the situation. It seemed that as the news of the Order's reemergence continued to grow, so did Snape's control over Harry. First it was monitoring all of his incoming mail - beyond what the Ministry already did - then it was limiting his visits to Hogsmeade, and now he wasn't even allowed to take the Hogwarts Express home like every other kid. Granted, most of the other students with at least one Death Eater parent were taking similar precautions, he was the only one with a parent on staff and able to literally watch over him every single day. He felt suffocated and wished he could be left alone for once in his life.

And then there were the Weasleys. Harry would give just about anything to be able to spend the summer with Ron and his family, but he knew better than to even think about asking his parents. Although the Weasleys were Purebloods, and therefore should have been granted the highest level of rights, there would never be a scenario where Harry would be allowed at the Burrow because they were considered blood-traitors and assumed members of the Order of the Phoenix. His mum and stepfather would simply never allow it for his safety, because the only son of such a high ranked official would make a perfect target to start off the resistance against the Dark Lord. At this point, Harry wasn't even sure if he'd be allowed to come back to school next year; another reason for his sullen mood.

"You can say that," Harry replied casually. "Let's get to the common room. I want to say goodbye to 'Mione before you guys leave."

Ron picked up his own school bag and slung it over his shoulder, his head hung low as they walked down the stone staircase to the only place they could visit with their Muggleborn friend. Each year, Harry had held his breath hoping the better part of their trio would return to school and each time at the end of the year he said goodbye to her as if she wouldn't be back the next year. As a Muggleborn, she was granted the least rights throughout the school. Most of Harry's life, he'd been taught that Muggleborn witches and wizards were an oddity; no different than a mutation that randomly popped up from time to time. At first he was confused because his mother was a Muggleborn witch, but her nonchalant attitude about it solidified to him that this was just an accepted norm. His father had died protecting those values, after all, so who was he to try to go against it. When he met Hermione, and Gryffindor House as a whole, those values were challenged in a very difficult way. There literally wasn't a spell, charm, or potion that Hermione didn't know, and that included the fact that she couldn't take all the same courses as the Pureblood and Halfbloods. She was limited to taking courses that would make her, as a Muggleborn witch, a perfect candidate for the menial positions in the Wizarding World that needed to be done; like learning domestic charms. Hermione wouldn't let her status hold her back, though, and where most other Muggleborn students left after their O. - since they weren't eligible to sit the N.E. - she had been adamant that she would return next year. Harry and Ron had their doubts, yet never once said a word about it

"There you are!" She gave Harry a hug - a risky move every time she did it, even in the common room - when the two wizards walked into the warmly decorated room. Hermione was dressed in her muggle clothing, something that Harry was secretly envious of because 'real wizards' couldn't be seen in anything besides robes. He could wear muggle jeans at home, but never at school. "I was afraid you'd left already."

"Do you really think I'd leave without saying goodbye to you," Harry asked, "especially this year?"

"I'll be back," she brushed off a piece of invisible lint from his shoulder. "What else would I do?"

"If you need it, I'm sure my parents would hire you," Ron said and his face turned bright red to match his hair. "They couldn't pay you much of anything, of course, but you'd be safe living at the Burrow. And you'd at least be able to list an occupation on your registration. They did that for one of Charlie's Muggleborn friends."

Harry squinted his eyes at Ron, trying to ignore Hermione's disgusted glare at him. He knew better than to offer Hermione anything like; she was insulted and wouldn't hide it.

"And exactly what do you think-" their bushy-haired friend started, but was interrupted by the arrival of Snape entering through the portrait hole.

"If I were you, Miss Granger, I would watch what I said," the professor warned, earning him a look of defiance from Harry while Hermione looked down at her feet; the most common reaction when speaking to someone with the Dark Mark.

"Yes, sir, of course," she mumbled. "I'll see you next year, Harry. Let's go, Ron."

Harry gave a small, sad wave to his two best friends as they left for the Hogwarts Express and then back to their homes. For them, life was almost simpler there and again Harry felt the familiar wave of jealousy fill him up inside. What he wouldn't give to be able to go to the Burrow - with its topsy-turvy build as Ron had described it to him so many times - and play a pick up game of Quidditch. Instead, he would be floo'ing back to his small home where the only benefit was getting to see his mum everyday, even if it meant he couldn't lock himself away in his room for the entire summer, like he wanted to do.

"Are you ready?" Snape asked the sullen teenager in front of him. "Lily's expecting us before lunch."

"Don't you usually have to close up your classroom, or something," Harry mumbled, testing his limits on how far he could push.

"While it's really none of your business," Snape crossed his arms in frustration, "I'm coming back this weekend."

"I'm packed," Harry simply replied to which Snape pulled out his wand and Harry's trunk came levitating down the stairs.

"I know you think we're being unfair," he looked over his crooked nose at Harry, "but your mother and I don't want to put you in a situation where something could happen."

"Like what?" The Gryffindor challenged, "Do you really think some rogue wizards are going to stop the train just to get to me? You really are that arrogant, aren't you? News flash, you aren't that important that I'm going to be targeted like you apparently seem to think."

Without waiting for a response, Harry flung open the portrait and stormed out, not caring what kind of punishment that little stunt was going to cost him.

~~~~SS~~~~

Some people would look at Severus Snape's life and say it was exactly what he ever wanted. He was well respected, married to the woman he loved more than anything else in the world, and he was secured in his position - both as a Potion's Professor in the school and as one of the leaders in the Dark Lord's regime within the Ministry. Never would any of them guess it was all built on a delicate web of lies. His love and marriage to Lily was the only true part of his life and he clung to that with every fiber of his body and soul. Things weren't always perfect, especially as the years went on and pressure from the Ministry to "make the Wizarding World a safer place" was mounting on him, but it really was one thing in his life that he could focus on. Second to Lily was his love for Harry, a relationship he hadn't expected to fall into so easily, but he cherished just as much as his marriage to the Gryffindor's mother.

When Harry was young, Severus wasn't nearly as comfortable around the child - having no experience with kids before he'd become the wizard's stepfather - but took the challenge head on, both for Lily's and his own benefit. Back then, even with his own awkwardness, the day to day living felt far easier than it did with the teenager. Back then, simply reading The Tale of Beedle the Bard to Harry every night made him a hero in the five year old's eyes. Lily didn't believe him when he voiced his concerns about Harry attending Hogwarts when his letter arrived shortly before his eleventh birthday, and she immediately turned down his suggestion of sending him to Durmstrang instead. Everyone from Lily to Lucius assumed his insistence was to give Harry a better foundation in the Dark Arts - whereas Hogwarts only taught the bare minimum required by law, Durmstrang embraced the Dark Arts and went beyond what was deemed necessary even in Severus's eyes - and he let them believe that. In reality, he was afraid of Harry becoming influenced by Albus Dumbledore and falling into the hands of the Order. After seemingly cutting ties with the group after James's apparent defection, he'd worked far too hard to keep Harry and Lily in good graces of the Dark Lord to let Harry's proclivity for righteousness and justice ruin it and endanger them all. It was futile, in the end, and when Lily made the argument that he'd be able to watch over Harry living in the same school, he conceded. Neither of them expected Harry to have such a volatile reaction when learning how the other side lived in the post-Voldemort world and Severus would give just about anything to have a talk with the Sorting Hat and find a way to bribe it into putting Harry in Slytherin; then he'd at least be surrounded by people of his own kind. Where they'd hoped the relationship between the stepfather and stepson would aid in keeping the young wizard safe, it was now being used against him.

Harry floo'ed back home before him, so Severus wasn't at all surprised when he exited the floo into the small, warm sitting room and the teenager was no longer there. The family of three moved out of the Potter's Godric's Hollow home about a year after him and Lily had gotten married. In that year, he spent all of his free weekends fixing up his old childhood home. It wasn't necessarily an ideal place to raise a child, however it provided them with security he could personally guarantee and for him that was more important than the ambiance of the neighborhood. He was able to provide the structure for his family and then Lily came in and placed her warm touch on every room. There was not a single room that resembled his old childhood home and where every room was once dark and dreary, they were now all bright and inviting. It was such a change from his old life in the home that he now found he enjoyed walking through the floo each night.

"Welcome home," his wife called out to him as he entered the tiny kitchen. It barely had enough room for the cupboards and the small table, but like everything else in the home Lily had made the best of the space. It was now bright, airy, and appeared far more spacious than it was. She was dressed in a light blue sundress that fell down to her knees and had tiny white daisies scattered across it, and was standing by the counter putting together a salad for lunch along with a set of finger sandwiches. She turned around, leaned against the counter and asked, "I take it there were no major issues getting back?"

"That would depend on how one would define 'major'," he replied sarcastically, giving her a small kiss on the cheek, and taking over slicing the carrots for their salad. The repetition was so familiar to his Potions class that he could confidently slice just about any food without even looking at it. "He's alive… angry, but alive."

"You can't win them all, Severus," she added, levitating the plates and forks to the table, where a pitcher of lemonade already sat waiting for them.

"You know I can hear you talking about me, right?" Harry's voice interrupted their non-existent conversation. He walked right by Severus, giving him the cold shoulder and walked up to Lily to give her a hug, "Hi, mum."

"Welcome home, sweetheart," she answered, deciding not to cause a problem between the two wizards so early on in the summer holiday.

Severus's only solace in regards to Harry's latest attitude was that it was not simply aimed at him. While the young wizard would always value the relationship with his mother - a common reaction to losing his father at such a young age - he pushed his limits with her almost as often as he did with Severus, the only difference was he wasn't nearly as acerbic with Lily.

"Are you going into the office tomorrow?" Lily asked, interrupting the awkward silence that had fallen over the small table once they had all started eating.

"I'm afraid so," Severus answered. As a high ranking official in the Death Eaters, he had an active role in the Ministry Department of Magical Education, specializing in Potions and part of a subcommittee for the Dark Arts. "There's been another set of requests, or more accurately demands, to expand the option of the standard Potions class to include fifth year Muggleborns… specifically those interested in securing a nanny position."

"And what do you think?" Harry challenged him, turning his head inquisitively. The older he got, the more he looked like James as a teenager and Severus found himself torn between letting the anger fill him up at the thought of his school day tormentor sitting across from or letting the grief in from losing someone he was supposed to be protecting that fateful night over 12 years ago. When those thoughts hit him, he always focused his attention to Harry's eyes. They were almost identical to Lily's, but in these eyes he saw the small five year old who had walked his mother down the aisle on their wedding day.

"I think that as long as they can secure the appropriate marks," he answered carefully, "and can provide the documentation required to declare their occupational intent, then they should have the ability to join my course."

"I didn't need to do all of that to take your Potions class!" Harry slammed his fork down on his salad plate. "Hell, even if I wanted to, I wasn't allowed to quit Potions!"

"That's because," Severus raised his voice warningly; these conversations were becoming far more common as the years went on, "it's part of the standard curriculum for you. We've been through this already."

"Well," Harry said and the professor could see him fighting for the right words, "it's… not right!"

This time, Severus couldn't hold his anger and slammed his own fist onto the table, rattling the nice china they were currently eating their lunch from.

"This is the way it is, Harry," he lectured the teen across from him, "be thankful you have the opportunity you do. You shouldn't go throwing it all away! Think about what you can do with the doors opened to you now that say… Miss Granger doesn't have?"

Harry's lips pressed firmly together and he aggressively threw his napkin from his lap onto the table. "Good," he said, standing to leave, "when I'm done with that school I'll take my prime education and make it so people like you aren't allowed to decide what others do!"

"Harry!" Lily reprimanded her son. "You apologize right now."

Instead, the Gryffindor stood with his arms folded across his chest in a pose Severus knew, after all of these years, he had unfortunately learned from him. No matter which method he'd taken with Harry, he was always the evil one. Yes, they could have told the young wizard from an early age what had actually happened with his father - that he'd joined the Dark Lord only to protect his family - but it was such a heavy topic it never seemed like the right time. First, it was simply too dangerous to tell a young child about the subterfuge that, if discovered, could quickly reverse the leniency Lily and Harry had been granted because of James's sacrifice for the Dark Lord. Then Harry had been told his father had died a hero, and he didn't want to take an image like that away from his grieving son. And when he went to Hogwarts, while it seemed like the perfect time to tell him, Harry had quickly taken to the other side and telling him would only fuel his fire. By then, it was far too dangerous; someday James's sacrifice and Severus's own position may be the only things keeping the young wizard safe. Until he could show a better sense of judgement, James's true nature and the prophecy would have to be held from him.

"No, Lily. It's fine, let him go," Severus waved off her concern for him. But as Harry was passing by the professor to go back to his bedroom, Severus whispered almost imperceptibly, "Not the best way to honor your father's death."

The rest of the day for Severus was spent catching up on his Ministry duties in his makeshift office and potions laboratory in the cellar. As a child, he never used to come down into the damp, dark cellar. With his personal potions laboratory down here, whenever he opened the door he was greeted with the smell of an odd assortment of ingredients, yet every single time he was brought back to the musty smell of his youth. Only when things were at their absolute worst with his father - when he could smell the stale alcohol pouring from the muggle's pores before even seeing the man - would Severus venture down here. This was the only room that had been restored when he moved in after his parents' death, but before he lived with Lily and Harry in Godric's Hollow. Back then, he'd used the small, cramped space the best he could when placing the laboratory workbench along the wall directly to the right of the stairs and then wrapping it around the far wall directly in front of them. Open shelves sat above the bench, hung using more than a bit of magic, to hold his various phials, cauldrons, and basic supplies and were specifically placed to combat the low ceiling so he didn't feel like the room was caving in on him. On the underside of the benches were cupboards strategically placed to store his various ingredients. This was also the only room Lily hadn't touched when redecorating the house before the family moved in, and he was more than alright with that arrangement. More recently, he added the large desk to the far left corner of the room when Lucius offered him the position in the Ministry, and he'd accepted. One doesn't turn down that type of opportunity, especially because it would give him prime access to learn about the comings and goings of the Dark Lord as early as possible, specifically where it dealt with his son.

Ironically, as a child he'd come here for protection from his father - who wouldn't attempt to come down the rickety staircase unless he was far beyond drunk, and by then he wasn't coordinated to make it down without falling - and now it was really the only place he felt safe enough to let down his own guard to breathe. It was here that he didn't have to worry about the Death Eaters or protecting his students from exploding potions they had no business learning. It was here that he could pour himself into his work and try to ignore the unfair insults Harry directed at him. When Harry had decided to label Severus as the "bad guy" - especially this year when there had been too many new "rules" about Muggleborn curfews, appropriate punishments, and further segregation - he never corrected the Gryffindor. Lily had all but begged him to tell Harry about their life before James's death, and before the Ministry fell into the hands of the Dark Lord, yet he refused knowing that would only stop Harry from targeting him and instead the Gryffindor would focus that attention somewhere more damaging. It was safer for Harry to take his pent up frustration of all the injustices on him, who only had to pretend to punish the young wizard, rather than any of the other Death Eaters in the school. He wouldn't fare nearly as well if Amycus Carrow, the Dark Arts professor and Head of Slytherin, was on the other end of one of Harry's rants; in hindsight, maybe the Sorting Hat did know what was best for Harry after all.

"Are you coming to bed soon?" Lily called from the top of the stairs, slowly walking down the rickety old staircase.

Severus looked at the piles of parchment littering his desk, because coming home in the evenings and weekends was never enough time to keep up with it all. He pinched the bridge of his nose knowing she was not going to like the answer he was about to say.

"Probably not for another two hours or so," he replied, honestly. By the time she'd made it down the stairs her eyes told him they were in for an argument. He silently watched her walk through the room and approach him. She was already dressed for bed, and her dark red hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck. "I just need to catch up on a couple of things before I go back to the office tomorrow."

"It's always something, Severus," she complained, leaning against the edge of his desk in a way that, even if she were angry with him, made her look sexy.

"I'm sorry, Lil," and he was, he would much rather be upstairs with his wife than in the cellar working; disappointing her.

There was a pregnant pause between them. He knew exactly where she was taking this, and he wished she'd let it go, just this one time; let them have a normal - or as much as they could lately - night home. Maybe he could even leave the least important work for later and take her upstairs. She was already upset, though, and nothing was going to make that possible.

"Why must you taunt him?" she asked with her hands on her hips and her head turned slightly, daring him to to challenge her on it.

"I do not taunt him," clenching his jaw to keep his own temper under control, he responded. "If you care to remember correctly, I was answering your question."

Throwing her hands up in the air, she said, "All I asked was if you were going into the office tomorrow. It was a 'yes' or 'no' question! Did you really need to go into all the bureaucracy of it, or for Merlin's sake bring up Hermione! You knew it would cause a problem."

"You're not the one who constantly…" he held his hand up between them, stopping himself from going down that road. No good would come from pointing out that he was the one dealing with Harry's antics at school, not her. If anything, the teenager needed to hear what was going on in the real world, instead of the safety of school. He often forgot that as a half-blood and son of a decorated Death Eater, he was granted more leniency with what he said. If Ron Weasley ran his mouth as often as Harry, he wouldn't get away as often as Harry did. "What do you expect me to do about it? Should I join him? Do you want to start fighting? Go back with Order, perhaps?"

"No-" she quickly replied, recoiling as if she'd been physically hit by the statement.

"Then what Lily?" He asked, his exhaustion coming through in his voice, "Because if he doesn't start watching what he says, that's going to be our only option!"

His onyx eyes were pleading with her because he wanted to stop their fighting, and he didn't know how to do that when Harry acted on every righteous whim he had.

"I don't know," she eventually conceded to him. He could watch Lily's anger start to subside as he reigned in his own. Turning back towards his work, hoping to be able to get to bed sometime around midnight, he heard his wife say, "Sev…"

"Why did you even ask me, if you didn't want to know why I was needed in the office?" He interrupted her, knowing there was probably an apology coming that he didn't think he deserved. Things in the house were so much easier when Harry was smaller and the only question he had to answer from the young boy was why the sky was blue. In less than five years, Harry had managed to wedge a gap between Severus and Lily, and while deep down he was proud of his stepson for standing up for his beliefs, the professor was a natural born Slytherin and understood what it meant to have a bit of self-preservation. Harry, on the other hand, was a true Gryffindor, and so was most of the Order.

"Um," she thought quietly to herself. "I had tea with Narcissa the other day-" Severus rolled his eyes, "-and I mentioned Harry wanting to join the aurors after Hogwarts. She said she'd talk to Lucius and Yaxley to see if he could get a summer internship there. She thought it might help."

Earlier this year, when he'd heard from Minerva that Harry wanted to join the aurors, Severus almost choked on his Friday tea with her. She, of course, thought it was perfect. Being that his father was killed by an auror, Severus didn't even think it was a contender for the Gryffindor's future career aspirations. It wasn't until later that he came to the conclusion Harry probably just picked the first career he knew Severus would object to, but dwelling on that seemed counterproductive at the time. They still had two years before the teen would need to fully declare his career choice, and a lot could happen between now and then.

"No," Severus replied, pointedly, "I'm not doing everything I can to keep him out of there just to voluntarily send him across enemy lines. What were you thinking?"

"That he needs something to keep him busy this summer!"

"I can think of plenty-"

"You know what I mean!" She yelled at him and the sound of sorrow in her voice pulled at his heart. "I told Harry about it tonight at dinner and he thinks it's a great idea. Maybe if you had you been there-"

"Dammit, Lily," he pushed his papers on the side of his desk. "Don't you dare make this about me! He's not going, and that's final."

She huffed at him, turned around and stomped up the rickety staircase, using far more force than he would have felt comfortable going up them himself. Holding his head in his hands, feeling like he was failing from every angle of his life, Severus replayed the conversation back to himself knowing that he'd already lost. If Lily wanted Harry to explore this internship opportunity, there was very little he would be able to do to stop it. In the morning, he'd have to meet with Lucius, and then again with Yaxley to get the details before he could even start to formulate a plan to ensure Harry's safety. To make matters worse, he didn't get up to bed until almost one o'clock in the morning and Lily was long asleep as far onto her side of the bed as possible.

~~~~HP~~~~

When Harry woke up the first morning of his summer holiday at home, it was overcast and looked like it was threatening rain; two things that would definitely spoil the plans he'd wanted to do this afternoon. When they'd first moved into their home on Spinner's End, Harry was only seven and didn't think twice about moving from their charming home in the wizarding village of Godric's Hollow to the rundown neighborhood in muggle Cokeworth. It was where his parents had grown up - though his mum and Aunt Petunia lived several blocks away - and Severus had grown up in this exact house; his same bedroom if Harry was being specific about it. As he grew up, and into the space a little more, he couldn't fathom why his mother would choose to move them here of all places. At least half of the other houses were deserted, most of the street lamps were broken with no one caring to replace them, the river was always dirty, and if none of that turned people away, the abandoned mill - complete with its tall crumbling chimney - on the horizon certainly would. One would think with his stepfather being so highly recognized in the Ministry and with Lord Voldemort, he would have had aspirations to live somewhere a little more respectable, but for whatever reason this was where they'd decided to call 'home'.

His mum had done what he could only assume was a full remodeling job on the inside of the house before they even set foot in here to live. Everything inside was bright and clean, and so different from what was on the other side of their front door. Though it was almost too neat and tidy for as turbulent as Harry always felt inside of him, and walking through the house sometimes felt foreign to him. Everything had its place in their small home and if things fell out of place - as Harry, himself, was now - then it needed to be rectified immediately. Luckily for him, his mother gave him more leeway than a misplaced book or a tea cup left out too long, and usually had Severus handle any of his behavioral issues. Sometimes Harry wondered if it was because he was growing up to look so much like his father that it hurt her to look at him. Everyone who had ever met him - after thanking him for his father's brave sacrifice - told him how much he looked like James Potter; besides his eyes, he obviously knew he had his mother's eyes. As the years went by, that statement became less of a compliment and more of curse.

While Harry's room was only large enough to fit his twin sized bed, a wardrobe, and a small bookcase, he loved the space that was all his own and for that he was grateful. His bed was placed against the far wall on the right, underneath the window where he could see the river, and he could sit and think about where it would take him if he ever followed it. The walls were painted a light steel grey, adorned with his Gryffindor posters and flags. They were placed mostly because he was happy to keep his mother and father's house pride alive, especially because it wasn't a secret that the entire school expected him to be sorted into Slytherin, but to also give him a piece of his other home, where he felt more like he belonged. For the rest of his life he'll remember the look of shock and awe on everyone's face when he was walking over to the Gryffindor table - not mention the fact that Severus had paled at least three more shades, a difficult feat for the man to begin with - and so he held his Gryffindor pride close to him. The fact that Severus had to see them every time he walked by his bedroom, and imagine that they were now where his old Slytherin posters used to be, was only an added benefit.

Living in a muggle neighborhood meant Harry was allowed to dress in his muggle clothing on a regular basis. Outside of going to the Malfoys' Annual Midsummer's Gala on the 21st later this month, or any other trips into Diagon Alley, he wouldn't have to wear his wizard robes until September, and that was really the only thing he liked about living in Cokeworth. Dressed in a plain blue tee-shirt, a pair of jeans, and his newest pair of trainers, the young wizard made his way down to breakfast, breathing a sigh of relief knowing Severus would already be gone to the Ministry for the day.

His mum was sitting at the table in her normal spot furthest from the door, reading that morning's copy of The Daily Prophet. Harry hated reading the rubbish reported in almost any paper, but the Prophet was the worst of them all. Everyone knew the media - and the Daily Prophet specifically - was controlled by the Ministry, meaning that every single word published, or reported on the wireless, was reviewed by a member of the Department of Magical Media. He'd heard that Angelina Johnson had taken a position in that department which she'd likely be starting in the upcoming weeks having just finished at Hogwarts. Being her first year, she wouldn't be the one actually reviewing any of the writing, of course, and Harry thought that was for the best because she wasn't nearly biased enough not to get herself in any trouble. Anyone who knew Angelina knew she spoke her mind, and Harry could only hope it would be a useful tool for her someday instead of getting her in trouble. Whoever it was giving the final approval on what was being published was doing so on Lord Voldemort's orders - through the Minister obviously, as the powerful dark wizard was rarely seen, even in the Ministry offices - and therefore nothing could be trusted at face value. Today's headline Exiling People to Space? Magical Community Targeted for Latest Muggle Technology was accompanied by a photograph of something Harry couldn't even begin to describe and was most likely the thing people would be living in while in space.

"Morning, Harry," Lily said, gently placing the paper down across the tiny table. "There's breakfast on the counter."

"Thanks, mum," Harry replied, walking the short distance to the countertop where a bowl of hard boiled eggs, a plate of bacon, and a plate of buttered toast sat. He pulled out a new plate from the cupboard and made up a respectable breakfast for himself before sitting next to his mother at the table.

The mother and son sat in silence eating their breakfast, the sound of their metal utensils clanking against their dishes filling the awkward air between them.

"Can you believe this?" Lily asked, sounding horrified. "They're trying to make it so people can live in space. It's only a matter of time before they start rounding up witches and wizards first."

Harry shook his head. He could never tell which side his mother fell on and he questioned if that was intentional - to balance her loyalty between her constantly bickering son and husband, and therefore keeping her own opinions nestled safely to herself - or if she really didn't have an opinion either way and was torn between the community she grew up in and the one she currently lived in. Neither of those options were good because he had always imagined his mother as having more of a backbone than she appeared to have, especially as of late.

"They don't even know about us, mum," he told her. "Plus, according to Hermione, there's an entire career field dedicated to space travel… they've walked on the moon, remember? I'm sure there's a long line of them wanting to go up there before they start finding and forcing us to go."

"You just wait," she pointed a finger at him, "they're all jumping in line to test it, but what happens when they find out they can exile-" she'd looked at the headline again to make sure she got the message right, "-people there forever?"

"Either they'll send willing participants," Harry replied, "or convicted felons. Either way, there's a long line before they uncover and drag witches and wizards to be tied to a rocket and sent to space."

"You do know it's Muggleborns that are at the highest risk," she explained to him, "they have a foot in both worlds and therefore by bringing them into the wizarding world, we're almost protecting them. It's why I chose to live in the magical world, obviously figuratively speaking."

The young wizard set his lips in a firm line, trying his hardest not to react on his first instinct. If it were Severus, he would have jumped at the opportunity, but his mum was different. When she talked about Muggleborns, it seemed more innocent, likely because she was talking about people like herself. He didn't know about early on in their lives, but he could tell from his parents' - his real set of parents - pictures that his mother had given up her own muggle life for a wizarding one. She didn't have any pictures of her sister, Harry's Aunt Petunia, and her family, nor did they speak about them. All Harry knew about the Dursleys was they were muggles and they hated magic. It was people like them, plus the little he knew about Severus's father, that caused so much strain between the two worlds. The Wizarding World wasn't any more accepting, only their target was against those people - supposedly caused by mutations in their genes - that could straddle that line. Perhaps if the magical community had been more accepting of these "hybrids" then they would encourage Muggleborns to take the leap into the magical world, instead they're left with less rights than Purebloods and Halfbloods, and in some regards even less than other magical creatures. Harry had never gotten the courage to ask, but he was curious if Remus needed to take as many precautions as Hermione did when doing little things like buying her school supplies or traveling internationally.

Not wanting to get into a political debate with his mother, he simply took a last bite of his buttered toast and said, "I'm going to the river."

"In the rain?" She challenged him.

Harry looked out the window in the kitchen, it was cloudy and damp looking, but there was no actual rain. Good enough for me, he thought to himself.

"If it gets bad," Harry said, taking his plate to the sink where the dishes were charmed to self-wash, dry, and then put themselves away, "I'll come home."

He leaned down to give his mum a kiss on her cheek and left the kitchen before she could have a chance to respond. If she were really adamant that he not go out, she would have no qualms in telling him so, and he would have listened. The last thing he wanted was to cause another reason for his parents to fight and to start their summer holiday off in a more hostile environment than it was already becoming.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus never had any ambition to work at the Ministry, nor as a professor now that he thought about it. After Hogwarts, he had planned to join the Death Eaters - which he did - and possibly secure a job in Potions, yet never even considered teaching. He applied and took the Potions Master position when Horace Slughorn retired at the insistence of the Dark Lord, and after the Ministry fell in '84, he wasn't about to draw attention back onto him by turning down the advisor position in the newly created Department of Magical Education when the new Minister - the Dark Lord's second in command, Lucius Malfoy - offered him the position. While potions was his specialty and main role in the department, two years ago he had been asked to help consult on the Dark Arts subcommittee and, again, knew it would be too suspicious to turn it down. And that was how he ended up working among the people he hated.

Keeping to what was familiar to him, Severus used the opportunity to gain as much information as he could on the comings and goings of the Ministry and should anything look particularly alarming, he made sure to have contingency plans in place to get Lily and Harry away from Wizarding Britain safely. So far, while things hadn't been good, nothing dangerous - for his family at least - had been started. It helped that early on, the Dark Lord recognized just how few true Purebloods were left and had given Halfbloods the same status as their Pureblood counterparts. For Lily though, a Muggleborn widowed witch, it had taken months of appeals - using James's status and death to her advantage - in order to allow her to continue to live in the wizarding community of Godric's Hollow alone with Harry. Even after she'd married Severus, she was still required to be a part of the Muggleborn registry and her wand had been marked appropriately. By doing so, every checkpoint she went through, she was required to show her registration-status card that would determine if she could enter places like the Ministry, Diagon Alley, and even any Gringotts locations, as well as tracking exactly where she travelled. Once she officially became Lily Snape, some of those restrictions on her were lifted as he, the superior blood status in the household, was now responsible for her comings and goings. It was a barbaric system, but it allowed a little more flexibility for her, so he accepted it.

While most employees entered the Ministry through the main entrances, several of the higher level employees were approved to have their homes connected to the floo. The approval of the application was completely subjective to Arum Kelplis, a Death Eater who oversaw the Department of Magical Transportation and whose main responsibility was to keep track of the Muggleborns' travel as well as any application requests for international travel - specifically without a Pureblood or Halfblood in accompaniment. Severus's own application to attach their Spinner's End home to the Ministry floo network was almost denied due to the fact Lily was living there, but luckily Lucius had seen the denial and reversed it without any other issues arising.

While having his own personal connection was convenient, it didn't necessarily help him make his way through security any faster. It was the prime reason he'd learned to arrive as early as possible, especially because he was required to enter through a separate line for "mixed households". Handing his wand to Sena, the security agent, she scanned it, asked him the customary question if he was bringing any guests - which was ridiculous because she was sitting at a desk across from him and therefore would have seen if he'd approached with another person - but he answered politely as he always did when at the Ministry.

The Department of Magical Education was added to Level Five alongside the Department of International Magical Cooperation when Voldemort took over by power. Since there were many times they needed to be in contact with the other magical schools around the world, it did make the most sense, and Severus could admit that he was grateful they were at least placed with a quiet department. He grimaced at the thought of sharing a floor with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, one floor above them. He avoided that floor as much as possible, only catching a glance when the lift stopped to let out one of the many maintenance workers that visited the area.

Before Voldemort took power, the education at Hogwarts was not under the Ministry's control. It was one change that was widely accepted - at least in the beginning - because the magical community had wanted an updated curriculum and more regulations over not only what was taught at Hogwarts, but also in regards to the requirements for hiring professors within the school. What they got instead was a period of time - three years to be exact - where no Muggleborns were allowed to study at the school, and when it was determined that those witches and wizards could fill in the positions that Purebloods and Halfbloods didn't want, they created a "custom curriculum tailored to the unique needs of the Muggleborn Magical Community." It was pure propaganda, nevertheless it was better than nothing and every summer since then, Severus reviewed petitions that were brought to the DME to try and expand their curriculum anyway possible; including the new Potions class petition currently sitting somewhere on his desk.

Level five, as a whole, was basically one large room separating the two divisions by a wall of glass that could be magically activated into a series of enchanted windows. There were exquisite marble floors that filled in the entire room, making Severus feel far more important than he was whenever he entered. The walls were made of granite in a speckled light brown color and on his "side" of the floor, they had rich wooden paneling covering the bottom half of the walls. Inevitably, since the DME was added to the already existing International Department, they were placed on the far end of the room and therefore every time the professor entered, he was required to walk past all the desks and offices for the other division. While arriving before seven o'clock in the morning would have almost guaranteed him an empty office upon his arrival on any other level, given that the international department required international coverage, there were always at least two people present to account for the different time zones around the world. Not even Lord Voldemort himself could force other nations to adhere to the British time zone, though it wasn't without trying.

Severus gave his customary greetings to the few stragglers from the night shift and those starting their day on the early morning shift as he made his way across the room, through two other corridors to the DME office. When he opened the door, he was greeted exactly as he preferred it to be: a quiet, empty office. Anyone who visited this office would expect to have more desks given how many courses were actually taught at Hogwarts, and had this department been set up correctly, there would have been at least one representative per course. However, this was all about control and therefore it had been split up as "efficiently" as possible. The first split was between "core" classes and "elective" classes . The core classes were separated into two levels - Pureblood/Halfblood or Muggleborn. All of the Muggleborn leveled classes were handled by a single, severely overworked wizard named Evert Abbott, the uncle of Harry's Hufflepuff classmate Hannah Abbott. It was Evert who was heading the petition to allow select fifth year Muggleborn students from his level Potions class into Severus's level. The Pureblood/Halfblood leveled classes were handled in groups with Severus being the only employee covering a single subject - Potions - on his own and only consulting on the Dark Arts with his fellow Death Eater, Thorfinn Rowle. He was also the only official educator in the entire department, which was a large oversight in his own opinion. The electives - such as Divinations, Care of Magical Creatures, arithmancy, and Ancient Runes - were far simpler to handle because there was only one level, and Muggleborns needed to be granted special permission for each elective they wished to take. The easiest course to secure a position in was Care of Magical Creatures, which was almost always filled with a majority of Muggleborn students. No matter how hard Severus fought, Harry was dead set on taking Hagrid's class, since by the end of his second year - when electives were chosen - he was already fully in his "difficult stage".

It had been three weeks since Severus had been back in the office because as the end of term at Hogwarts approached, his weekend schedule was too full with end-of-term marking to make it in. That meant his normally well organized desk was completely covered in parchment from various memos, new regulations, and pamphlets. With a wave of his wand, anything that didn't start with his name was vanished to the rubbish bin; if it was important, someone would have either contacted him directly by now or they'd send another missive. That simple move allowed him to at least see his desk top, where he kept pictures of his family neatly in frames: the first was of himself and Lily on their wedding day, followed by one of both parents with Harry on the beach from the holiday to Aberdaron they took when Harry was eight. It had been, and still was, one of Severus's favorite trips because Harry had never seen the ocean before and the young child could have stayed playing in the sand all day, as the waves came in and out around him without anything weighing him down. The last picture filled him with the most sorrow. It was a picture of himself with Harry building a snowman in their small garden the Christmas before Harry started at Hogwarts; before the young wizard started to question the life they lived and when his son started to pull away from him. He missed that carefree version of his son more than he would ever tell anyone, besides maybe Lily, and that was less likely as of late. With any luck, Harry would outgrow this phase by the time he left Hogwarts and Severus wouldn't have to worry about the Gryffindor landing himself in Azkaban for acting on his ever-growing radical thoughts.

The office started to fill up quickly as it was approaching the general start time of half past eight in the morning. Not usually being there in the office meant every single person felt the need to stop by his desk to ask about Hogwarts and his family. It was a camaraderie he wasn't used to, nor wanted to be any part of at that time of his life with this particular group of people.

"My niece, Hannah, tells me there's been trouble with your stepson lately," Evert Abbott exclaimed as he walked into the office to his desk, only two away from Severus's. Evert was a tall lanky wizard with blonde thinning hair and bright blue eyes, who could never keep his mind out of anyone else's business.

Severus looked down at his desk and pulled out the folder containing the petition the other wizard had filed and held it up for Evert to clearly see. The blonde's face immediately paled, giving the Potions Master the desired effect he'd hoped for, "Seems to me that if I had a petition requiring a certain Potion Master's endorsement, I would try everything I could to not poke the dragon, so to say."

Snickering from around the room made Severus want to roll his eyes at the juvenile attitudes in such an important department. None of these other witches or wizards had to live through the effects from the decisions they collectively made, and therefore few took their responsibility as seriously as Severus did. He had a front row view of what a disaster they could cause to the student body, and this type of responsibility should not be taken lightly.

"Trouble in paradise, Snape?" Carlton Cygnet, the middle aged, rather plump wizard who was responsible for overseeing the Charms and Transfiguration curriculum called from the other side of the room. "Abbott's told us all about-"

"Abbott needs to learn how to keep his damn mouth shut," Severus growled. "Both this one and Hannah."

"Definitely sounds like trouble," Cygnet continued, "maybe it's not the kid, though, and it's his Mudblood-"

Severus reacted purely on instinct when he brandished his ebony wand and shot a stinging hex straight at the plump brunette sitting in the corner. The man jumped so high, he fell straight over this chair and landed flat on his back.

Severus made it over to the other man's desk in three long quick strides, and towering over him the professor warned, "Don't you ever think you can talk about Lily or Harry like that and get away with it. Trust me, you won't be so lucky next time."

Ignoring the scared glares being cast around him, Severus picked up the petition file and seriously considered denying it on principle as retaliation for the little stunt Abbott had pulled. In the end, doing so wouldn't make him any better than the other corrupt Ministry workers he was surrounded by, so with the file still in his hands he stormed out of the office. It was the perfect time to take a visit up to Lucius's office to discuss what Lily had spoken with Narcissa about.

In the wake of the Ministry falling, none of the Death Eaters were surprised when Lucius Malfoy was named Minister for Magic. If Lord Voldemort, himself, wasn't going to take the position, they all knew the top position would either go to the Malfoy Patriarch or to Corban Yaxley. Ultimately, it made the most sense to put Yaxley over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - the second highest office in the Ministry - and leave the highest honor to Lucius. He was a far more aristocratic choice, after all, and while any Death Eater besides Severus and James could have acted as Voldemort's puppet, Lucius at least naturally acted the part.

When Severus had brought James to join the Death Eater, he'd immediately lost whatever small ground he'd managed to build with the blonde Death Eater who had recruited him. It took him most of the four years James served before his death for the professor to win back his loyalty in Lucius's eyes. When James had been announced a hero after that awful night, it put to rest any of the remaining doubt in his colleague's mind. That simple change had worked to his benefit, and being on "friendly terms" - as much as a Death Eater would ever admit to - had gotten him out of a few rough spots throughout the years.

Severus had never visited the office of the Minister before Lucius had been given the position, however he doubted it had a fraction of elegance to it before the older Slytherin moved in. It was a large room with picture windows - enchanted like all the others in the Ministry of Magic - with his ornate desk in the middle littered with more parchment than Severus had ever seen; even more than Albus Dumbledore's desk. Unlike how the professor had just handled his own stack of parchment, as the Minister Lucius wouldn't be able to simply vanish away things without reading through them.

"Severus, come in. Have a seat," his friend greeted him, gesturing to the dark green plush wingback chair in front of his desk. Motioning to the file Severus was carrying, he said, "Jumping right back in, I see. I shouldn't have expected anything less from you."

"Not exactly," the dark-haired wizard admitted, "simply making sure I don't unintentionally deny this claim before even opening it."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "The potions class petition, I take it?"

Severus sat in the chair that had been offered to him and crossed his left ankle over his right knee. It was a far more casual pose than he would have had with anyone else in the entire Ministry than this man. Nodding his head, he handed the file over to Lucius who looked over the list of signatures, explanations, and the submitted course curriculum.

"Is there any reason a wizarding nanny would need to take such an advanced course?" The Minister aptly questioned.

"Not to brew, of course," the professor carefully explained, "however the sixth year curriculum does include a Coughing Potion, Wound Cleaning Potion, and Antidotes to common poisons. All of which would be important identifications when working with small children. That's assuming the appropriate O.W.L. marks can be achieved to take the sixth year course, which would explain why fifth year is being targeted. No student can receive an Outstanding mark without the standard fifth year coursework."

The other Slytherin gave a small chuckle, "They're trying too hard. I'd be surprised if the nanny Narcissa found for Draco had passed any O.W.L.s, let alone attempted any real courses."

"It's a different world nowadays," Severus neutrally replied.

"All the more reason to deny things like this," he held up the file and carelessly tossed it across his desk back to Severus. Then he ceremoniously stood and with his hands clasped behind his back, stared out of the window - showing a lake that Severus wasn't familiar with - as if he didn't know it was fake. "The landscape is changing, Severus. While you were babysitting exploding cauldrons, we've been here making plans for our next move."

None of that sounded promising. To make sure he was on the same page, he asked, "Militarizing?"

"In due time," Lucius turned around and gave a small, sinister smile. "Let's just say these new… regulations are now, more than ever, strategically in place for the Muggleborns' safety… and there are more on the way."

Severus couldn't contain his sigh of frustration. The latest rounds of regulations were what set Harry on his warpath this year and he could only guess where this next round would take the young wizard. The Dark Lord had been methodically building his regime with one end goal in mind: regain the Wizarding World's rightful place among the muggle world. Once the Ministry fell - and the dark wizard recognized the need to not banish the Muggleborns - it was surprisingly easy to gain followers under that headline; who wouldn't want to come out of hiding and abolish the Statue of Secrecy that had been in place since 1692? It was a move that had been in the making for years and selfishly Severus wished it had either come sooner or would end quickly. As Harry got closer to seventeen, an adult in the wizarding world, he could be called to fight against the muggles once his Hogwarts education was completed. As the Minister's son, Draco would likely be exempt, however Severus's own status wouldn't protect Harry and the circumstances around James's death would actually work against the young Gryffindor this time around. And then there was the Order to consider and if Harry somehow got recruited… This could only end badly for his family. They could flee; he had plans in place to take them all to America should something like this happen, but it would take time, and Harry wouldn't go easily or quietly. Regardless of how much he hated to admit it, Harry was a true Gryffindor and wouldn't voluntarily go into hiding to save himself.

"Then, we're close," Severus said, feigning indifference. He did not ask it as a question because there was no doubt in his mind what was going on. It was only a matter of time before they took on the Muggle World, but he still carried his own demons from the first war, and was not prepared for another one; fearing what he'd lose this time around.

"Closer than ever before, Severus" the Minister proudly said to him. "But that's not what brought you here, and if it's not the petition, then to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Lily had tea with Narcissa the other day," he carefully broached the topic he had come to discuss, asking for a favor was always risky in the current economic status, but he needed to get as much information as he could before bringing Harry into the Ministry. "I guess Narcissa had mentioned the idea of Harry working on an internship in the DMLE this summer."

"Yes, yes," Lucius replied, excitedly, "My wife filled me in, and of course we can make arrangements for Harry. I've been saying for years that we don't do nearly enough to give our youth the appropriate information to make sound decisions on their upcoming career aspirations."

Severus was sure he'd never heard that platform from the Minister before, and that simple fact almost made him turn around and exit the room, throwing this idea behind him. He wasn't about to let Harry be used in some political agenda. Narcissa had been nothing but kind to his family, nevertheless that only went so far. The Malfoy Matriarch was so far removed from daily life in the Wizarding World, she likely didn't know just how dangerous of an offer she'd made.

"I'd understand if it's simply not possible," Severus provided the excuse he hoped the blonde would take. "The DMLE is a very elite department, after all, and having an almost sixteen year old sitting around is not ideal."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus," Lucius answered. "We'll find something for the young Gryffindor to stay busy this summer. Let's discuss over dinner this weekend, say Saturday night?"

The offer was a courtesy because no one could safely turn down dinner with the Minister; no matter how good of friends you were before he'd taken the position.

"Of course," the professor answered with a nod, "I'll let Lily know."

"Wonderful," the blonde sat back down at this desk, signifying the end of their conversation. "I'll have my assistant make reservations at Brimstone Nova, their Diagon Alley location, for half past seven o'clock this Saturday. We'll discuss the details then."

It wasn't ideal. Severus hated the Malfoys' choice of restaurants because they were always far too pretentious for his - and most definitely Harry's - liking and he was uncomfortable, at best, sitting through them. Malfoy Manor would even be preferred, at least there he wouldn't be in public. But it would save him the need to stop by Yaxley's office today, and he was always grateful to avoid the auror's office whenever possible.

So as humbly as he was expected to be after being invited to such an elite locale, Severus gave his head a quick nod and said, "Thank you, Lucius," before leaving the expansive office.

"I'm not going," Harry predictably said when Severus announced their weekend plans over dinner the same night.

"You make it sound as if you have a choice in the matter," the professor bluntly replied, "which you do not."

For once, Harry didn't have any witty or sarcastic response. He simply stared down at his plate as he shredded the roasted chicken Lily had prepared while Severus was working and the young wizard was out of the house doing who knew what. If they were on the cusp of war with the muggles, as Lucius alluded to in his office, then Harry wouldn't be able to continue gallivanting around the neighborhood with zero supervision. While he obviously wasn't known as a wizard to their muggle community, the tides could quickly turn and almost anything could happen. That was a conversation for another night though; now he was having a hard enough time getting his son to show up to dinner with the Minister and his family in only two days time.

"For once in your teenage years, Harry, could you simply agree to something without making it an issue?" He pinched the bridge of his nose as he asked the young Gryffindor sitting to his left, his exhaustion already evident in his voice.

"Well maybe if you'd asked me first-"

"I do not need to ask you before accepting a dinner invitation with the Minister for Magic on your behalf," Severus interrupted. "Or did you already forget this is to help aid your ridiculous career aspirations!"

"Severus!" Lily warned her husband, placing her hand on his arm as a physical reminder to keep his temper in check. Then turning to Harry, she calmly added, "I think an internship in the auror's office is an important opportunity, sweetheart, plus it will give you something to focus on this summer. It's worth one awkward dinner with Malfoys."

"I don't need something to focus on this summer," Harry retorted.

"Oh, really," Severus interjected a bit more sarcastically than he'd intended, "and what exactly will you be doing this summer? Studying for your N.E.W.T.s, perhaps?"

"Hardly," the young wizard arrogantly replied, his eyebrows furrowed, "Hermione hasn't even made a study schedule yet. If she's not thinking about them, I certainly don't have to."

Severus exchanged a look across the table with Lily, who took a slow sip of her red wine, silently begging him not to comment on Harry's apparent oversight.

"That is most likely due to the fact that Miss Granger is not eligible to sit those exams," he sadly reminded his son. It was a policy he vehemently disagreed with. If any Muggleborn should be able to continue her education to the fullest extent, it would be Hermione Granger. Seeing as she also wasn't eligible to take his level Potions class, he hadn't gotten the privilege of teaching the Gryffindor know-it-all, but he'd heard of her level of expertise in just about all of her subjects; even those not available to her. Muggleborns who performed at that level should be allowed to at least attempt the N.E.W.T. exams. What harm could really come from it? Did the Dark Lord truly think having select high ranking Muggleborns would threaten the infrastructure he'd built? If anything, if positioned carefully enough, it could help solidify the two sides closer together, but no one would see it that way.

"Oh," Harry replied and for once it wasn't laced with the thick aggression he'd had within him all year, but in its place was deep sorrow, "I forgot about that. Guess Ron and I will have to make our own schedule this time around."

The Gryffindor didn't say another word throughout all of dinner. He obediently ate his meal and then excused himself to his bedroom where neither parent had seen him the rest of the night. Severus knew it was bound to happen. At some point that fire inside of Harry burning for all the injustice he was trying to fight against would start to burn out into smoldering embers, waiting to see if their fate was to completely extinguish into submission or not. Although Severus would welcome the change, as everyone who had built a fire knew, the danger isn't necessarily in the raging flames you can clearly see during its peak, but the burning embers left over at the end that can quickly and unexpectedly restart the fire; taking over without anyone noticing before it's too late.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was lost in his thoughts the rest of the week over the fact that he'd forgotten Hermione couldn't even attempt to take her N.E. . Naturally, thinking about her exams led him to the O.W.L.s they had taken this past year. Obviously, he'd seen the level of classes Hermione was required to take compared to his own, but she went above and beyond; spending every extra second available to her in the library - the only space besides the Great Hall and each house's common room where Muggleborns and the rest of the students could co-exist together - studying until she could easily help him and Ron on their level of homework. That wasn't the case for the typical Muggleborn though, some simply weren't as naturally talented in class as his friend was and what would happen to them? The Muggleborn students weren't given a different version of the O.W.L. exams and if Harry thought they were difficult after attending five years worth of courses aimed at helping him pass the exams, there was no way even the top percentage of Muggleborn students stood a chance at passing. It was common knowledge that most Muggleborns didn't return after fifth year and Harry finally understood why: they simply didn't - or more accurately couldn't - pass their exams to continue. This time, instead of reacting in anger like all the other times he was faced with the prejudice and injustice in the world around him, he was filled with an intense sorrow that penetrated down to his core. He felt defeated. It was one thing to feel like they were tailoring the curriculum to the "Muggleborns' needs", or whatever pathetic propaganda they wanted to call it, but to require a test that the students had no chance of passing, thus ending their magical education, was completely intentional. It was done as a way to legally ensure that the selection of the wizarding population that had access to full education was limited to Purebloods and Halfbloods; it wasn't accidental, or an oversight that could be swept under the rug. Hermione would get to come back, of course, because she was smart enough to pass their test by doing her own self-studying, but not many others would.

"You look like your best friend just died," a voice said from behind him, startling Harry out of his melancholy thoughts.

Harry had started the day walking down by the river. Cokeworth's river was so polluted, you couldn't even come close to seeing the bottom. When they'd first moved to the muggle community, Harry's mum had been adamant he was not to enter the river under any circumstances. As he got older, he was sure if someone were drowning in it, she would want him to jump in and save whomever was potentially dying, but he didn't want to push his luck by asking about that specific scenario. Her very pointed warning didn't do anything to stop him from wondering what had caused so much pollution to begin with. The neighborhood had obviously been a milling town, but he didn't know what type of mill or why they would do whatever it was they did to such a prominent part of the town. Maybe if they hadn't destroyed it to begin with, the town would have had some kind of hope of surviving once the mill closed because if it weren't for the complete disrepair of the infrastructure, the landscape around them was quite beautiful. Instead, the river became a visual to any passerby just how broken the area, and its residents, had become.

Somehow, after following the river aimlessly, the young wizard ended up at the rundown park. He'd obviously been told that this was the place where his parents - his mum and Severus - had met back when they were only nine years old. Back then, the play equipment had been functional and most of the children in the neighborhood spent time there as a way to get out and away from their homes; at least that's what Severus told him and Harry never asked for details, although he got the impression staying home would have ended badly for the young Slytherin. Things between him and his parents - mostly Severus - had been strained lately, but he'd never been hit by his stepfather; he'd never even got close. Not all the kids around here were as lucky as Harry, and he'd always suspected the boy whose voice just called out to him was one of the unlucky ones.

Harry turned, already knowing who it was behind him. It was the first person he'd ever met in their neighborhood back when they first moved in and Lily used to bring him to the park to run off some of his little boy energy in the late afternoons before Severus came home from teaching at Hogwarts. At that age, Harry never cared that only one of the swings was functional or that there were no other kids in the neighborhood. All he cared about was that there was a large field he could run, and later that his friend would sometimes be there - mostly alone, but occasionally with his mum - running alongside him.

Christopher Williams was Harry's age and also lived with his mum and stepfather, which was something the two boys had been able to relate to early on. Unlike Harry though, his parents didn't get married until Chris was eight and his stepfather hated the other teen in a way that reminded Harry to be grateful Severus had actually gone a step further in wanting to adopt him; even if Harry didn't technically have a choice in it. Chris was tall and rather bony for his age, showing that his family didn't regularly get to have three meals a day as the young wizard did, both at home and away at school. He had sandy blonde hair that had a bit of a curl in it, especially when it was as long as he was currently wearing it. The muggle clothes - naturally because Chris was a muggle - his friend wore were a combination of a little too big and small at the same time and his jeans had holes across both knees, making Harry feel uncomfortable and embarrassed that he was fortunate enough to have clothing that was always in good condition and fit him well.

As far as Harry knew, Chris's stepfather didn't work and his mum was a nurse at a hospital two towns over, requiring her to work all sorts of hours throughout the week and thus needing to leave her son - especially when he was younger - with his stepfather more often than was probably safe. Recently, Harry figured the first friend he ever made in their neighborhood had likely been one of the kids hanging out at the park as a way to get away from his home; similar to Harry was now, but for very different reasons.

"No one died," Harry kicked at the dirt, walking over to his muggle friend. "Just deep in thought."

"When'd you get back from your fancy boarding school?" Chris asked and Harry physically recoiled. Since he'd never attended the local public primary school, Chris had always known Harry went to "a private school" and after he turned eleven he went to a boarding school every first of September. It had never caused a problem before, but something changed; the air between them was now just a little different and enough to make Harry yet again uncomfortable.

"Erm…" the young wizard tried to buy his time as he was thinking, "a couple of days ago. I came by, but you weren't here. I was going to stop by your house, but… it was raining."

"Prolly best you didn't if I'm honest," Chris shook his head and raised his eyebrows, "so what has you so deep in thought?"

He said the last three words in a mocking way that made Harry actually laugh as he tried to think of some way to explain what he'd been dealing with lately. Suddenly, as he was staring at a boy that could have been him in a different life - if Severus hadn't treated him like a son - the things he was dealing with, while still bad, didn't seem all that awful. So instead of going through how unfair Hermione, Dean Thomas, and his mum were treated because of something they had no control over, he just shook his head and waved it off.

The pair spent the rest of the afternoon walking along the park to the river and back. Chris told him about school this year and how he'd wanted to drop out to get a job and help his mum out, but she'd refused to allow it. To complicate matters further, his stepfather, Oscar, had told him if he dropped out of school he had better find another place to live. He didn't say so, but Harry could read between the lines - so to say - to know Chris was too afraid to leave his mum alone with Oscar. The more they talked, the more Harry had to admit things were looking better and better in the Snape household.

"You workin' this summer?" Chris asked as they walked towards Harry's house.

It was almost four in the afternoon, and tonight they were having dinner at some fancy restaurant Harry had only seen from Diagon Alley. It wasn't that he was ungrateful for the opportunity to have an internship with the auror department, he just didn't want to have a stuffy dinner with the Malfoys. When Professor McGonagall sat him down to go over his career options - as she did with every other fifth year student, regardless of their blood status - he really wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He knew what he didn't want to do: be a healer, become a professor, or work at Gringotts like Ron's brother, Bill, but most of all he didn't want to work in the bureaucracy of the Ministry, no matter how tempting it was to hopefully be able to influence change from the inside out. He'd seen enough times from his stepfather, no matter how much good you hoped to do, in the end there was too much red tape and roadblocks. At first, he'd completely dismissed the idea of auror as quickly as he had healers because why in the world would he want to join the department that had killed his biological father? But the more he thought about it, the more he came to the realization that it was really the only department that could actually make a difference; he could learn to find and bring down dark wizards so maybe they wouldn't fall into the same nightmare he was currently living through. It was a dream - he wasn't completely mental to think it could actually happen - however at that point Severus had already gotten word of his career aspirations and was so angry, Harry couldn't resist holding onto that dream. In reality, he most likely wouldn't get the "Outstanding" mark in Potions to move onto the required N.E.W.T. course, so it was a moot point.

"My…" Harry trailed off in his answer before catching himself, "Severus is trying to get me an internship at his company. So, I might be working for free this summer. How about you?"

"I'm picking up some odd jobs here and there," Chris replied in a way that intrigued the young wizard. "I'll still be around most the days before you go back to school. We'll play a pick up game of basketball sometime."

Basketball was Chris's favorite sport and really the only Muggle sport Harry played. It was something they quickly learned to bond over and a good game of basketball could pull his friend from almost any bad mood. Harry watched closely as Chris nervously clenched his fists on either side of his legs while they continued to walk in the deserted street onto Spinner's End. He knew he should ask if something was going on - like his instincts were telling him - but he didn't and before he could gain the courage Harry was almost to his front door.

"I should go," the raven-haired boy said. "We're having dinner with… a family friend."

"Ha, g'luck with that," the muggle said, "I'm holding you to the basketball game next time."

Harry smiled. It was such a normal statement that it immediately put his uneasiness to rest. Managing to convince himself that he was making something from nothing, as a projection of his own disparaging situation, he went to open the door - pretending to mess with the lock while holding his hand on the knob so the wards could recognize him - and said with a smile, "you're on!"

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus dreamed about James Potter last night, and whenever he had this particular nightmare - or more accurately this memory - he could never fall back asleep. It was as if he were destined to be haunted by the ghost memory of his wife's late husband for what had happened that night. For the rest of his life, no matter how long or short it ended up being, he would carry around the guilt like a permanent shadow lengthening and darkening when he least expected it. He should have told Lily the full story of what had happened, but he couldn't cause her any more pain. It was easier this way for all three of them, so they could move on and become the family he knew he didn't deserve.

Now it was Saturday night, only about an hour before they were all having dinner with the Malfoys, and the absolute worst night to be as exhausted as he was. He'd spent the day back at Hogwarts, closing up his classroom and even after an Invigorating Draft and an extra cup of coffee, it would be difficult to get through the fake smiles and conversations that were guaranteed to happen tonight. It was another reason he would have preferred to have dinner at Malfoy Manor; at least without being in public, he could have a real conversation with his friend, instead of fake pieces of one that may or may not end up in tomorrow's edition of The Daily Prophet.

Severus had just finished dressing in a pair of respectable black dress robes and was giving himself one last check in the mirror when he saw Lily enter their bedroom. With only one lavatory upstairs, after years of sharing it, they had their individual routines down, and Lily was always the second one to get ready for an event like tonight. She was dressed in a tight green lace dress that fell elegantly off her shoulders, with the color bringing out the vibrant emerald of her eyes and complementing her dark red hair that was wrapped in a bun on the back of her head with select tendrils falling down, giving Severus a perfect view of her neckline. She approached him with a soft smile holding out a thin gold necklace he'd given her for their fifth wedding anniversary.

"Would you mind giving me a hand here, Sev?" She asked, turning her back towards him so he could slip the necklace - which had three small diamond pendants across the front, one representing each member of their family - onto her and secure the clasp.

From this position, he was taken to another place and time by the familiar floral scent of her perfume. It was the one she reserved for special occasions and holidays, which unfortunately meant she didn't wear as often as he wished she did, but it brought him back to Christmas parties, the Yule Ball from two years ago, and anniversary dinners; his one chance to step out of his comfort zone for his lovely wife and celebrate their love. Lost in the sight of her, Severus casually slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him so he could place a soft kiss under her right ear.

"You look beautiful," he whispered to her, "I don't tell you that nearly enough."

He could feel her smile before she effortlessly turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled back and he found himself lost, gazing into her vibrant emerald eyes. It was short lived and just as quickly as the moment started, it disappeared when she said, "Does Harry seem off to you lately?"

She was facing him, still wrapped in his arms, but her eyes were no longer focused on the moment and instead had moved onto whatever had been plaguing their son now. Inwardly, he sighed; there was always something off with Harry lately, so the question seemed more than a little nebulous to him. However, the sad truth was that Lily didn't see Harry most of the year to know this fact.

"I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary," he told his wife. "On the contrary, the quiet has been a bit of a reprieve."

It was the wrong thing to say and he knew it the moment the last sentence left his mouth, but no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't take it back. She swiftly pulled away out of his embrace with the same fire in her eyes that had become far too familiar lately.

"Of course you'd say that!" She curtly answered, "I swear, Severus… I-"

"Let's not do this now," the professor clenched his jaw as he said the words to hopefully salvage whatever he could from the night. It was going to be difficult enough to navigate the formal atmosphere of dinner in his current state of mind without adding Lily to his ever expanding plate. "All I meant by that was-"

"Mum!" Harry interrupted as he walked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. Lily was now standing across from Severus with her hands held firmly on her hips and her head characteristically turned as it always did whenever she was angry with him. "What did you do?"

Harry's accusation didn't surprise him in the slightest, but he wasn't in the mood to put up with the fifteen year old.

"Get out," he pointed to the door behind the young wizard. "We'll be down in a minute."

But Harry didn't budge, his defiance speaking volumes, yet having no clue that this all started because of his sudden change of attitude in the first place.

"It's fine. Come along, Harry," it was Lily's sweet voice that finally got through to the teen. "Let's get going."

Defeated. That's how he felt watching the two people he vowed to protect walk out his bedroom. It was sure to be an interesting night and he hoped that the current animosity within the Snape Family wouldn't be too obvious to the elitists they were about to meet.

One of the first changes that was made to the Wizarding World once Lord Voldemort took over the Ministry was restrictions on travel. At first, it was for all witches and wizards, but that was quickly adjusted to only Muggleborns within the first three months when traveling into places like Diagon Alley to get school supplies for the upcoming year became too unmanageable. Once the Muggleborn Registry was in place and guidelines set for how those born to two Muggle parents could successfully travel in the Wizarding World, it helped alleviate some of the issues, but not all of them. Taking a casual trip to the Wizarding marketplace still took far too much planning than Severus liked, particularly when living in a "mixed household" and traveling with a Muggleborn.

Unlike the years before Voldemort's regime, witches and wizards could no longer floo directly into the Alley. Now, every floo attached to the network went directly into a room on the second floor of the Leaky Cauldron, which consisted of only a wall of four floos - two for incoming travel and two for outgoing - and a desk by the extra large doorway for security, where they would get their wands scanned before being allowed to go downstairs and out back through the wall to their final destinations. Tonight, things would be significantly easier than normal because they had a reservation at Brimstone Nova and therefore would already be on the approved list to enter. If they were trying to visit for a casual shopping trip, Severus and Harry could go through security without any issues. Lily, however, had to have set places in mind that she was planning to visit on that particular day. For each visit, she was limited to five stops - they could be declared in any order - each of which were then magically charmed into her wand allowing her access into that particular establishment. Without this specific charm in place, the wards on the shop would not allow her entry. Then, if she wanted to continue shopping after those five places, she needed to come back to the security station and re-register her wand for the next set; limited to three at a time after the first security visit. This inefficient system meant that after Harry's first year at Hogwarts - because what mother was going to miss something like her son's wand selection - it was Severus who brought the young Gryffindor to Diagon Alley to purchase his next set of school supplies.

Tonight, though, they had reservations - with the Minister no less - which would alleviate the need to declare their exact itinerary. When the whole family made it through the floo, they approached the security desk and handed over their wands for scanning. Severus's ebony wands emitted a bright green light, denoting him as a Halfblood and the superior blood status of his household, and Harry's holly wand emitted a blue light, signifying him as a Halfblood minor child. As always, Lily's wand turned a bright red, the warning color of Muggleborns, but this time a piece of parchment popped up with their reservation details listed, earning her a quick scan for security and then being waved through. Severus had fought hard after their marriage to get Lily's status changed at least to orange - meaning a Halfblood as the secondary blood status in the household - but no matter how many angles he tried, not even James's sacrifice could be used to lessen her Muggle heritage. Every time they went through this process, the professor tried not to think about the regulations that had to be followed when Muggleborn students needed to visit with their full muggle parents. After the first visit into the Wizarding World, he was surprised that Muggleborn parents would allow their children to go to Hogwarts. He could only assume that Minerva did some fancy talking when she hand delivered their letters to assure them their child would be safe. If Harry were Muggleborn and it were him deciding if the young wizard could go, he wouldn't allow it under the current limitations; nothing about this process made it feel safe. It was probably why each year, Miss Granger always came with the Weasleys, leading to Harry practically begging him to be allowed to join in with his friends, and every year Severus had to deny his son that request.

The walk down the normally bustling Alley was a quiet affair as this late at night they were approaching the general curfew for all the Wizarding World. Without a specific reservation - at either a set of stores or restaurants - the Alley was closed at nine o'clock each night and by this point in the evening, most of the patrons were finishing up their trip and heading home. The family of three walked side-by-side, all dressed up for their formal dinner, drawing attention as they headed to the end of the Alley where Brimstone Nova was nestled between Superior Scrolls and Madam Obi's Apothecary. The location wasn't random, as a place like this would recognize the benefits of requiring their clientele - in formal dresses and robes - to walk through the Alley bringing attention to their establishment.

From the outside, there was no indication that the building was an upscale dining restaurant; another strategic ploy by the owners to have people inquire about it. As they approached the outside, it was obvious that the Malfoys were already there by the set of guards standing outside the door. Severus thought if it were him and his family they were protecting, he would want his guards to appear more inconspicuous and natural, but it came with the territory of being the Minister for Magic and so they'd have to put up with it.

The inside of the restaurant was on the smaller - some would say intimate - side, lit with large candle filled chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling throughout the room. Walking in and towards the back, where the three Malfoys were patiently waiting, he took in the odd, almost mismatched decor around them. There was something about the combination of the white elegant crown moulding covering the walls, complete with hand painted portraits and landscapes within them, and the loud carpeted floor featuring a swirling pattern of blue, green, and gold flowers that almost made him laugh. They were so far removed from their normal environment and the professor questioned to himself if anyone actually liked this style of interior design or if it was simply used as a symbol of their elite status. Even if Lily had all the vaults in Gringotts at her designing disposal, he'd be willing to bet it all that she wouldn't decorate a single room with as many different elements as this one restaurant had. As they passed through the mostly empty restaurant, each table was covered in an exquisite white table cloth made of fabric Severus wouldn't even attempt to guess, and was set with the finest china dishes that he'd ever seen outside of Malfoy Manor.

Leading the way through the winding tables, Severus glanced over his shoulder to see his wife and son directly behind him. Reaching down and he took a hold of Lily's delicate hand, feeling the familiar weight of his wedding ring pressing into his left ring finger, reminding him that no matter what had been happening between them of late, he was her husband and he needed to be strong and confident for both her and Harry. He gave her hand a small squeeze and her smile back up at him told him - after years of picking up each other's small idiosyncrasies during their marriage - that things between them would be alright; at least for tonight. Harry, on the other hand, was looking around the room not even attempting to hide his discomfort with the situation around him. Severus's obsidian eyes met the young wizard's emerald one's and he gave a firm nod to his son in hopes he'd understand the importance of using discretion tonight. This was not the place or time to jump on his latest righteousness platform.

"Severus," it was Narcissa that stood to greet them first, dressed in a floor length satin black dress with silver floral embellishments down the right side. Her blonde hair was done up in a formal bun, similar to Lily's and yet it had a more elegant feel to it, which likely had more to do with the way she always carried herself. She acted as if she were always on stage and he guessed she had been since becoming the Minister's wife.

"Good evening, Narcissa," he greeted and leaned over behind the Matriarch to shake Lucius's hand who had stood shortly after their arrival. Not surprisingly, Draco did not rise as the customary formal gesture would require, but simply lifted his hand to acknowledge the start of dinner. Severus did not miss the same glare from Lucius to Draco that he'd just given to Harry.

Perhaps even the best of families have the same struggles, the Potions Master thought to himself.

"Thank you so much for arranging all of this," Lily said, taking a seat next to Narcissa, leaving Severus sitting next to his wife with Harry on his right. "This place is absolutely gorgeous!"

The Malfoys mirrored their family, with Lucius seated between his wife and Draco. It meant the two fathers would be talking across the table, but it placed their sons and wives on either side of them. Seated this way at a round table would make their socializing more conducive this way and would also allow him the ability to keep a close eye on Draco and Harry. Although they'd known each other since Severus had married Lily, things between them changed just as dramatically as they had between himself and the Gryffindor when they'd started at Hogwarts. Draco continued to express his views on Muggleborns, targeting - hopefully unknowingly - Harry's friend, Hermione. From what the professor picked up in class and from the other professors in the school, Draco liked to taunt the Muggleborn Gryffindor witch and she took it mostly in stride. Harry, on the other, hadn't and spent far too much time in detention for standing up against the blonde. Like Harry, this year had been challenging for the Slytherin and he found his student not nearly as vivacious nor intentionally damaging with his words. Not wanting to draw attention to his own unique situation - plus having his hands full dealing with Harry already that year - he didn't question what had caused the change in Malfoy heir's attitude.

The restaurant was one where the food was simply levitated over by their waitstaff - Muggleborn, he naturally assumed - and while they did a fantastic job at announcing each course before it was served, Severus wouldn't be able to repeat what it was nor would he be able to actually identify any of the ingredients. The Snapes played their part though, with the wives discussing Narcissa's next philanthropic endeavor - something that had to do with a new children's wing at St Mungo's in the Malfoys' name where the Malfoy Matriarch was asking if Lily would volunteer to read to the children - and the boys talking about the latest Quidditch news, that left Severus and Lucius to catch up on the comings and goings in the Ministry; all of which were pre-approved talking points, of course. In the back of his mind, the professor was interested to know how much of Lucius's day was spent doing things he truly believed in versus simply being the face of the Ministry being ultimately controlled by the Lord Voldemort.

It didn't go unnoticed by Severus when the Minister waved his hand and the familiar feeling of a privacy ward went up around the table, just as the main course of roasted duck with a side made from zucchini, pumpkin, dates and pears was completed. His first reaction to the subtle ward was to praise Lucius for the advanced spell work, both wandlessly and non-verbally, however that would not be the most intelligent thing to say to the man; no matter how friendly of terms they'd been on previously. Years ago, back when they'd both been young, eager Death Eaters, they both would gotten a laugh from the comment, but now it would be interpreted as "speaking ill of the Ministry" and was a punishable offense.

"Mr Potter," Lucius broke into the two boys' conversation - which had been getting quite animated at this point and it was the most relaxed Severus had seen Harry since the end of term - drawing the table's attention back to the eldest blonde. "Your father tells me you have aspirations to become an auror."

Harry's face paled, at the blunt question or the reference to Severus as Harry's father, he wasn't sure. To the young Gryffindor's credit if it was due to the latter, he held his tongue, even if it was obvious how nervous he was when he finally did answer.

"Erm," Harry cleared his throat and looked over to Severus. He gave the teen a small nod, "yeah… I mean, yes, I want to join the aurors after Hogwarts."

"It's a bit more complicated than simply signing up," the Minister gave a small chuckle at Harry's expense, raising Severus's guard. "Not just anyone is… cut out for that line of work, if you understand what I'm saying."

There was something about the way Lucius said it that completely changed Harry's attitude. Where he started out quiet and defensive, he was now confident and secure. Severus swelled with pride over how Harry appeared to handle the criticism.

"I am well aware of the requirements, Minister," the Gryffindor quickly glanced, yet again, in Severus's direction. It was no secret between them that if anything, it would be Harry's Potions mark holding him back from his career choice, "my head of house walked me through them, same as all the other fifth years, and still had confidence that it was an obtainable option for me. So, yes, I want to be an auror to do my part to protect the Magical community from the next potential dark wizard."

With a half smile, Lucius turned to Severus and said, "You certainly do have your hands full."

"He has his moments," the Potions Master replied, "but he loves a challenge and from what I hear, he has one of the largest repertoire of spells in his year. The aurors would be lucky to find an incoming recruit that already had half of his knowledge and wand skills."

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Harry's face of astonishment from the pointed compliment.

"Ah, well," the Minister said, lifting his hands in the air, "I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less, considering his fathers… both dedicated followers to Lord Voldemort, he's bound to be destined for greatness."

Severus didn't like where this was headed. It sounded far too close to that blasted prophecy; the one piece of his past life that would haunt him forever, or at least until Voldemort was eventually gone forever.

"And what of you, Draco?" The professor asked, drawing the attention from his own son for the time being. "What are your own career aspirations?"

At that question, two things happened at once: Lucius sent the young Slytherin a warning glare and Harry smiled towards his classmates. He'd apparently asked a question that had been on the "we do not discuss" list that each prominent family had before an outing, even one as innocuous as this.

"After Hogwarts," Draco straightened his back taller as etiquette called for when being spoken to and, ignoring the look from his father, he said, "I want to play Quidditch professionally."

He'd said it so confidently that Severus knew it had to be true, and to Lucius's credit he didn't completely unravel at the unwanted announcement. A professional Quidditch Seeker was hardly a respectable career for the Minister's son, however the Potions Master would have preferred that to auror for his own. It seemed odd that the two patriarchs found themselves in the same situation regardless of their vastly different social statuses. Luckily, Severus had been preparing for a completely off the cusp answer and did not respond outwardly to the declaration.

"Your seeker skills are some of the best I've seen on the pitch," he generically replied, "If that's your aspirations, I'm sure you'll have no problem getting picked up onto a team."

"Don't fuel this ridiculous-" Lucius started, but was interrupted by Narcissa's hand on his forearm in a very similar fashion to how Lily discreetly told him not to push an issue with Harry. Instead, he changed course and replied, "This phase will surely pass, and he'll end up in a more… respectable career."

"I think it's perfect for, Draco," Harry idiotically spoke up, "he's really my only competition out there."

"I'm pretty sure Diggory creamed you in the first game of the season this year," Draco pointed out, causing Harry's face to blanch in embarrassment.

"There were extenuating circumstances during that game," the Gryffindor exclaimed, resulting in a round of fake laughter from the table, all happy to have a segment away from Draco's obviously unapproved choice of career.

It was enough of a segway to ease the conversation away from Draco and onto other aspects of the school. Draco, however, was distant all the way through the dessert course - a delectable cake served with coffee ice cream - and Severus couldn't help feeling a deep sorrow for the teen. He had anything and everything he could ever want at his disposal except the one thing he needed the most: his father's approval. The professor found himself looking onto his raven-haired son under a similar lens. He wanted to give his whole hearted approval to Harry, if only he'd chosen to latch onto a cause that wouldn't undo everything Severus had done to protect the young wizard.

As dinner was finally coming to an end, Lucius took the customary first move by placing his napkin in the table and standing, signaling the end of the event.

"Report to the DMLE on the 1st of July," the Minister said, as he shook Harry's hand, "I'll make sure Yaxley takes care of you and gives you a good look at the life of an auror. You'll get some decent exposure, not to mention it will give you a step up when your application inevitably comes through."

Harry's face lit up at the same moment Severus's stomach dropped. Yes, he knew this was the best outcome, but that didn't make him any more prepared for the reality of his son working alongside the very same people he was trying to keep him away from. At least at the Ministry, he could keep a closer eye on the child, and between Albus and the Order or the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters, the latter was probably the safer option in the end. The 1st of July gave him a fortnight to mentally prepare himself and Harry for what was to come; he could work within that time frame.

"Thank you, sir," Harry excitedly replied, a new bounce in his step as he walked ahead with Draco and the two witches still engulfed in their conversation about the new children's ward in St Mungo's.

"Severus," the Minister called, holding the Potions Master back from his family just before they exited the restaurant. Noticing his absence, Lily turned but he waved her out the door indicating he'd catch up to them outside. "You'll be in attendance at our Midsummer's Gala next week, correct?"

"Of course," he responded, unsure where exactly this was headed. The Snapes had been attending the annual gala at Malfoy Manor since he started at the Department of Magical Education. "We wouldn't miss it."

"Wonderful," the blonde gave another one of his signature half smiles and looked beyond the professor out the window towards Harry.

"What's going on, Lucius?" Severus prodded. "We are always in attendance at the Gala, what's so important about this particular one?"

He gave a small hmph and said, "Let's just say the situation we discussed in my office is moving faster than we anticipated. There have been confirmed sightings of the Order, and therefore certain... adjustments were needed. You should expect an announcement on that night and given your son's… reaction to the latest regulations, I feel like you should be prepared. The last thing I want is to lose my intern before he's even had a chance to prove himself worthy."

It was a strategic move, telling Severus about the potential announcement before it became public knowledge, both as a politician as well as a father. Harry making a fool of himself at the gala wouldn't do any of them any bit of good. Without any other words or pomp and circumstance, the Minister for Magic simply turned and exited the restaurant to meet the other two thirds of his family outside, leaving Severus to ponder the meaning - and potential warning - of that message.

It was after eleven o'clock at night when Severus caught up with his wife and son only about five shops up the Alley. Lily had her arm draped around Harry's shoulder as the two walked alone in the street, since it was after curfew. They were talking, but he wasn't close enough to hear about what, he could only see them laughing from the soft glow of the street lanterns still lit to illuminate their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. The wizard was filled with both intense joy and sorrow at seeing his family look so carefree and happy; unfortunately without him present. As he approached, he rested his arm across Lily's other side, sandwiching her between him and Harry.

"It was a beautiful meal, wasn't it?" The Gryffindor witch asked once they reached the exit to the Alley and were back in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Yeah," Harry said with a smirk, "beautiful is a great way to put it."

Severus laughed and acting on a whim, he pulled his wife and son passed the staircase leading to the floo network upstairs they should be taking home and out of the front door heading into Muggle London. Lily looked at him as if he'd gone completely mental, and perhaps he had given the fact that Lucius had all but told him the Wizarding World was about to wage war against the Muggles, making this plan practically impossible come July. With a wave of his hand, Severus and Harry's dress robes were transfigured into muggle suits - demonstrating the purpose of the impending war - to match Lily's beautiful dress.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, almost in a protest but equally intrigued.

"I don't know about you two," he said, navigating the familiar streets with them, "but I'm still hungry after that artwork we ate."

And with his declaration, he heard the one thing he'd missed the most since Harry started Hogwarts and had gone down the difficult road they'd been navigating with the young wizard: his laugh and even more rare, his agreement. Severus confidently led them through the streets of London until they came across a little 24-hour restaurant. They were completely overdressed for the casual middle of the night atmosphere, but they didn't care at all. The family sat tucked in the back corner booth until half past midnight eating fish and chips, talking about anything and everything they could that didn't relate to a war or blood status. And when they finally made it back to their home on Spinner's End and Severus laid in his bed - with Lily snuggled up beside him - he felt like at least for one night, he had his family back; the one, he reminded himself, he was fighting so hard to protect.

~~~~HP~~~~

After dinner with the Malfoys, Harry found his emotions were all over the place coming into the week of the annual Midsummer's Gala. Inside of him was a raging tornado consisting of an unhealthy combination of anger over Hermione's situation, guilt for treating Severus the way he had been especially after the great night they had as a family after dinner on Saturday, nerves for his upcoming internship, and relief that somehow through all of it, things were settling into a decent, relatively easy summer routine. Their family dinners hadn't even seen as much aggression as they did before this past weekend, and while Harry was curious as to what was causing it, he also wasn't about to complain. As long as Severus kept acting as he had, Harry would follow suit.

As the week went on, the weather took a sour turn forcing Harry to stay inside and it showed no sign of lightening up. Being confined in the small attached house made the Gryffindor feel trapped, so to compensate for not being able to go outside, he spent as much of the day as possible sitting next to the window watching the angry clouds roll in; not too dissimilar to his own feelings inside. It was unfortunate that the town of Cokeworth was already so gloomy from the natural disrepair and neglect of the neighborhoods, that when an everyday storm settled over the stone buildings it seemed even more dark and ominous than any other place in Britain. The storm made it feel like not only would the townspeople never see the sun shine over the area again, but somehow mother nature inherently knew they weren't worthy to see it shining in the first place and was punishing them for their transgressions. The older Harry got, the more his eyes opened to the world around him. What used to be a "spooky, but fun" place to live as a nine or ten year old boy, quickly became a place where he questioned his parents' sanity about continuing to reside in the town. There had to be some reason, but whatever it was, he was not privy to the reasoning.

By Wednesday, Harry decided enough time had passed to be able to write to his friends without drawing too much attention to his somber feelings. They both had their own lives to worry about and Harry, being who he was, really had no room to complain. So that morning, he continued watching more rain dripping down his small window while sitting up in his bed - since his bedroom did not have space for a desk - and wrote a letter to Hermione, framing the letter as him checking in on how she was doing and if she'd received her O.W.L. marks yet. The results were due any day now and if Harry was worrying over his marks - mostly Potions - then his Muggleborn friend had to be more so than him.

For Harry, his whole career choice was dependent on that Potions O.W.L mark. While the Ministry's guidelines for an auror was that each applicant needed to have a N.E.W.T in Potions, they did not regulate what the O.W.L. grade was to accept students into the class. Those regulations were left up to the individual professors, and Severus refused to budge on his requirement that all incoming N.E.W.T students have an Outstanding mark. Not that it would have mattered, since Severus wrote the regulations for Potions at the Ministry, but if it had been Ministry-controlled - like every other thing in the Wizarding World besides breathing - he would still have to answer to the Minister and Lord Voldemort to approve his overly strict requirement. Harry was sure the reason the statistics showed how few aurors were accepted each year were skewed because of that single potions class restriction and if Severus would adjust his requirement to Exceeds Expectations - like all the other N.E.W.T. courses for an auror - there would be more applications into the elite program. As he continued his letter to Hermione, he had to remind himself of the fact that at least he knew he could attend Hogwarts next year, which was more than she and his other Muggleborn friends could say.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best letter to choose to write in his current mood, so he left it unfinished hoping he could add something else to it later that wouldn't remind her of her own sad situation before sending it out through the muggle mail. Since they both lived in a muggle community, Harry had learned early on in their friendship that the best way to get letters to her was through this most inefficient system, but it allowed him to avoid both Severus's and the Ministry's invasive checkpoints.

When the young wizard woke up Thursday morning - the day before the Malfoys' gala - the sun was finally out shining. The light greeted him first thing that morning, shining across his bed and practically fueling him for the day. He ate a quick breakfast of porridge and fruit before he ran back upstairs to his room to get ready to go out to the river. Just as he finished tying his trainers, he lifted his head and outside of his window he saw the most peculiar sight: Chris walking alone by the river looking almost lost and aimless. It wasn't necessarily odd that his muggle friend was out of the house before ten o'clock that morning, because Harry was about to do that very same thing after being cooped up inside for days, but it was his body language that stood out as strange; he was almost prowling around the riverbank with no rhyme or reason.

Deciding to find out what was going on, Harry grabbed the basketball his mum had transfigured for him from one of his old trainers and ran out of the house to meet Chris. If something was bothering his friend, a game of basketball would help cheer him up and maybe make him feel comfortable enough to talk about with Harry. However, by the time he'd made it out there, Chris was no longer alone. Now standing in front of his muggle friend - with their backs to the Gryffindor - were two much older, stronger men Harry didn't recognize from around the neighborhood. Immediately feeling like something was wrong, the young wizard slowed his own stride as he approached the trio.

"... got it?" Harry had barely heard the man on the left ask as he was approaching.

"Yeah," Chris mumbled and pulled something from his pocket that Harry couldn't see from his vantage point. The man on the right - tall and stocky with long brown hair coming from under a blue cap - took wherever Chris had handed him and tucked it into his inside coat pocket.

From the atmosphere between the three people, it was clear this meeting had been planned and not some random encounter like Harry had first thought. Not wanting to disturb whatever he'd come upon, he quietly watched from behind a set of trees that lined the riverbanks. Ironically it was the only green in their neighborhood, and no matter how much Harry thought about it, he couldn't figure out how that was possible with the river as polluted as it had been; at least without the help from magic. From behind the treeline, the young wizard couldn't see much of what else was actually going on between the two men and Chris, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they had finished whatever they'd come for, the pair of men continued walking away from the young wizard, continuing down the river. Following his instincts - which, admittedly, had gotten him into trouble more times than he liked to talk about - Harry still decided to approach his muggle friend and maybe find out what had been going on.

"Hi, Chris," Harry called as he placed a hand on the other teen's shoulder, causing him to practically jump out of his skin at the sight of the raven-haired teen right after the encounter with the two men.

"Oh, hey, Harry," Chris warily greeted him. The lanky muggle was shifting his weight between his feet and his hands were fidgeting at his sides. "Whatcha doin' here?"

The Gryffindor knew better than to say he saw what had happened with the two men, so instead came up with what he hoped was a good enough lie, "My mum got me a new basketball and I was going to try out. Want to join me?"

Harry didn't even think it sounded believable, but he'd really hoped Chris would. He tried to think about what he'd do if he were in the other boy's shoes; obviously something not right had happened and yet he didn't feel comfortable talking about it. Chris lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck trying to buy himself time before answering Harry. It was a movement the young wizard had seen Severus do a thousand times when he was frustrated with something going on and didn't know how to react. This time though, the simple movement caused his friend's dirty, plain white long sleeved shirt to fall down towards his shoulder, revealing a set of unmistakable fingertip bruises across his arm. The teen in front of him had been grabbed or forcibly moved in some way and Harry felt his breath hitch at the sight as his insides filled with an intense sorrow for Chris. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the bruises on his friend, but these were the first that couldn't be easily explained away as the muggle had done those other times. The Gryffindor tried hard not to react this time because he didn't want to scare the other boy while he thought about the situation. If he were honest, he didn't know what to do, but he was afraid if he'd told his parents, they would go to Chris's house and that would only make things worse. He needed to find it a way to help on his own.

"Nah," Chris had answered to him about playing the sport Harry knew he loved, "I gotta get home. I was just out running an errand for Oscar. Maybe this weekend though?"

Harry furrowed his brows thinking about what he could have possibly been doing for his stepfather out here with the two men. Not trusting his voice to not betray his worry, Harry nodded. There was always some excuse; it was another thing he noticed as he grew up each year and became more aware of the reality around him. As he watched his friend walk away with his head hung low, it left Harry with an overwhelming sense of guilt coursing through him; guilt that he didn't say anything, guilt that he had let it get this far, and guilt that he felt grateful it wasn't his own stepfather that treated him like Chris's did.

It wasn't until Chris was gone, back towards his house two streets over, and Harry was standing alone on the riverbank that he looked down at his feet and saw a small canister where the two men had been standing. Nervous and intrigued, the young wizard bent down to pick up the canister, wiping off the flakes of grass stuck to the sides from the morning dew. The lid was hard to dislodge, but when he finally opened it, he was surprised to find a small black bag inside of it; reminding Harry of the Russian Nesting Doll Hermione had gotten from her holiday one Christmas. Determining he had no idea what this was, he dumped the small bag into his hands and carefully turned it over and over to get a good look from all sides. It was denser than he'd expected it to be, but on the second turn in his hand, he noticed there was a small tear in the corner where a fine white powder was trickling out onto his fingers. Shoving the bag back in the canister, Harry tucked it under his shirt and hurried home.

The young wizard slowly opened the front door, listening carefully for his mum; the last thing he needed was to add whatever it was he had hidden under his shirt to the list of things his parents were disappointed in him over. Satisfied he could make it inside without running into any interference, he ran up the stairs to his room, trying hard not to slam the door in his wake to avoid drawing attention to himself. A quick look around his tiny bedroom proved there were few places he could actually hide the small canister that was practically burning a hole in his pocket. At first he considered placing it under his mattress - figuring it was the least likely place anyone would potentially look - but with his current luck his mum would be changing the linens and come across it. Then he went to the small bookshelf and again decided against hiding it there just in case Severus came in looking for a textbook; not like he didn't have his own entire library taking up every inch of the sitting room, but he couldn't risk it. Finally, he landed on his wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture in his bedroom, and decided that whatever the powder ended up being, it would be safer there than anywhere else until he could figure out what to do with it.

With that safely - at least as much as it could be - stored, Harry pulled out his letter to Hermione. Living in the muggle world, he thought his friend might have a better idea of what the white substance was, as well as how to approach - and ultimately help - Chris out of the two potentially dangerous situations he was living in. Lost in describing what he'd seen this morning, he missed the first knock on his door.

"Harry?" Severus's baritone voice called from the other side of his door right as he put the finishing touches on Hermione's letter. "May I come in?"

Harry was more surprised by the request to enter his room than the fact that his stepfather was home from work on a Thursday morning. In the past, Severus wouldn't have necessarily given the Gryffindor the respect by asking his permission before entering his room, and it demonstrated the neutral zone they managed to fall into since dinner with the Malfoys.

"Yeah," Harry called out, folding the letter he planned to mail to Hermione later and tucked it under his pillow.

"Your mother asked me to check if you had appropriate dress robes for tomorrow," his stepfather told him, casually leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest.

"Erm," Harry looked over to his wardrobe, where his single set of formal dress robes - not just nice ones like he wore to dinner - but the kind he'd need for Friday's gala - were stored, along with the canister he had just hid there, "I think they're fine."

Severus raised a single eyebrow questioning the validity of Harry's claim. It was a face the young wizard had seen far too many times sitting in Potions class and he knew by now it meant the professor didn't believe his statement. If he didn't say something else, he knew Severus was going to go to check the size himself and that would mean opening the wardrobe and potentially finding the canister of white powder.

"Fine," Harry conceded, feigning embarrassment by looking at his hands as they played with a loose thread on his bedspread, "they're just a bit too small."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry who was now sitting up straighter in his bed, with his legs dangling off the sides towards his stepfather. "Get your trainers on," Severus said and turned to leave.

"Wait," Harry calmly called out, "where're we going?"

The professor turned slowly, clearly suspicious over Harry's less aggressive attitude towards the demand. "To get you new robes, obviously."

"Oh, perfect," the Gryffindor replied, happy to have at least dodged the broom for now, "I'll be right down."

It didn't surprise Harry that his mother wasn't joining them on their shopping trip; which was honestly better for them all as she would drag out the already painful process of getting fitted for robes far too long. Unfortunately, traveling just about anywhere as a Muggleborn was complicated and, to be frank, embarrassing, even if his mum was used to it by now. As with everything else, when Harry was younger he didn't question why his mum had to be checked at every shop when him and his stepfather did not, or why she couldn't just "drop in" for ice cream at Florean Fortescue's if it wasn't a place they'd planned to go to. She took it in stride though, never complained, and simply explained to his younger self about the regulations as if it were no big deal; it was just a fact of life and eventually Harry had accepted it. Now, it disgusted him and even if his mum would make a big deal about "how grown up he was getting" or "how handsome he looked" trying on the various robes, he wished she could walk through life as easily as him or Severus could. She'd decided to live in the Wizarding World - cutting all ties with her muggle family, as far as Harry knew - so why shouldn't she be awarded the same rights? He could almost understand if she were one of those straddling between the two worlds, but she wasn't. She was a witch and that was all that should matter.

Shopping with Severus was always a far more streamlined event and because of that, they made their way directly to Madam Malkin's after entering the Alley. He was all business and, for that, Harry was grateful; with any luck this would be an easy trip.

"Hello, professor!" The small plump witch greeted the pair the moment they crossed the warded threshold into the robe shop. "What brings you in so early this summer? It can't be time for new school robes yet. He'll easily grow another six centimeters before September!"

"No, not school robes. Harry needs a new set of formal robes for the gala tomorrow night," Severus responded, patronizingly patting Harry's back, which made him outwardly cringe.

"Ooh," Madam Malkin excitedly exclaimed, "I have a new set of dark green robes that will look absolutely stunning with your eyes."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his emerald eyes because it seemed like every single set of dress robes he would ever own were destined to be green. It wasn't to say he hated the color, because green was one of his favorites, but everyone always mentioned how the color looked with his eyes and that was annoying. Since he really wanted to get this shopping trip over with and be able to send out Hermione's letter that he'd brought with him, he didn't protest.

"Just make sure they're not Slytherin green," Harry jested, giving Severus a smirk. "I am a Gryffindor, after all."

"One who's been blessed with beautiful, emerald eyes, that look even more so in green robes," she called out, escorting both of them over to a fitting area.

"If you'd been placed in Slytherin," Severus casually added, "you wouldn't feel nearly as conflicted as you always do about wearing green."

"Well, then I'd have a whole other set of issues," Harry answered honestly, fiddling with the hem of his robes, choosing not to see his stepfather's reaction to the claim.

"Here we are," Madam Malkin returned carrying the set of robes that he already knew would be too large on him.

As Harry changed into the delicate fabric, he had to admit no matter what he'd said before, this set of robes were in the perfect shade of green; the one that he loved but would never admit it to his stepfather.

"They're perfect," Severus said when Harry stepped out of the changing room, almost swallowed in the long green fabric. "A little long, but that can be easily taken care of. How do they feel?"

Harry turned himself every which way in the mirror to see all around him and test his dexterity. While the gala had ample opportunity to dance, he would definitely not be dancing, but he still wanted to be comfortable. "They're alright," he conceded when they passed his movement test.

Through the mirror, Harry saw the Potions Master roll his eyes in such a "Professor Snape" way that the young wizard almost laughed.

"Shall I fit him?" The witch behind him asked, nervously wringing her hands.

After giving the Gryffindor time to change his mind, the professor nodded his approval. As Madam Malkin went to work, she asked, "Nothing for you, Professor? The Midsummer's Gala is the event of the year and I'm sure Mrs Snape would love to see you in a new set of robes."

But Severus didn't answer, causing Harry's anxiety to rise a little. Looking back at his stepfather, through the mirror, the Potions Master was also peering into it, but not at the work being done on Harry's new set of robes. Following the path of the onyx eyes, Harry saw a familiar face looking at them from the window behind him: Ron and his father! Making eye contact with the Weasley patriarch triggered the other pair of wizards to enter the shop and approach them.

"Hey, Harry!" Ron called out to him once he'd made it next to the mirror Harry was getting fitted at. His blue eyes went wide when he saw the robes his friend was wearing, "Nice robes, even if they are green."

"Thanks for that," Harry wanted to give him a swat for the green comment, but couldn't move during Madam Malkin's work. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Dad needed to stop by the apothecary," Ron explained, turning towards Mr Weasley who was now having a conversation with Severus, confusing Harry as to how they could jump into a topic so quickly. It was clear that there was a silencing ward placed around the odd pair because nothing but mumbling could be heard from them, further intriguing Harry about the situation. If he were honest, the Gryffindor didn't think his stepfather had enough history - outside of being the Weasley children's professor and Harry's best friend's father - to have a conversation as intense their's appeared to be.

"Where are you going in those?" Rob nodded his head towards the robes Harry was still wearing.

"The Malfoy Gala," Harry mumbled. While it was a party hosted by the Minister, for the Ministry and top level military officials, Mr Weasley's department was never invited. Itching to change the topic, Harry added, "Hey, is 'Mione staying with you this summer, I have-"

"Harry," Severus interrupted them, "I need to have a minute with Arthur. I'll be right outside and will be able to see you from the window. Do not leave here until I'm back, understood?"

Harry turned and looked out to where the professor was pointing out the window they'd first seen the Weasley father and son, "Yes, sir."

The immediate obedience, followed with the respectful sir caused Severus to narrow his eyes in suspicion, but his need to talk to Mr Weasley must have been more important because - much to Harry's astonishment - the other two wizards left without his stepfather saying a word about it. Harry watched them through the window for a half a minute, and Severus was looking more and more furious with the redhead as they continued to speak. It wasn't long before Madam Malkin allowed Harry to get dressed back in his casual robes, while she finished the last of his alterations in the back, leaving Ron and Harry in the empty storefront sitting on a set of plush chairs waiting on their fathers to return.

"So," Harry went back to his original question, trying to pretend his instincts weren't screaming at him that something was wrong, "is 'Mione staying with you guys?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, sheepishly, "but it's a bit complicated, Harry."

The raven-haired Gryffindor immediately started thinking about all the things that could have happened. Unfortunately, there was quite a lot to choose from, but the most obvious - at least that wouldn't have Ron waiting until Harry had asked about their friend - was that she'd decided to quit school after all. Maybe she had decided to take up a job working at the Burrow and they were afraid of how he'd react to the news, and suddenly the letter in his pocket didn't seem quite as important or relevant anymore. But another thought took over his mind as he tried to fill in the gaps.

Since when do my friends keep things from me?

It was a hard realization to have; that his two best friends hadn't told him something important until he'd been the one to ask. What could be going on that they felt they couldn't tell him about?

"What's going on, Ron?" Harry finally asked, deciding it was best to be blunt with his best friend, "Is she alright?"

"Oh yeah, nothing like that," Ron pulled his chair closer to Harry's and leaned over with his forearms resting on his thighs. It was a casual position, but one which would grant them a bit of privacy without putting up a ward that would cause suspicion. "We're not staying at the Burrow this summer, is all."

Harry's head recoiled back and he scrunched his face in confusion, "Where are you staying then?"

"Erm," Ron's face blanched, "I can't exactly tell you, Mate. It's protected."

Of course Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about. A Fidelius Charm. Severus had wanted to put one on their Spinner's End home, but his mum had refused, claiming he was being paranoid. Harry was too young to have much of an opinion on the benefits of it, but his mum was right that Severus was very much paranoid. It was no secret that it came from the time he served as a Death Eater in the first war. Somehow, after Harry's biological father died, the Potions Master had gotten out of active duty and while he still carried the Mark and worked for the Ministry, he would only be summoned into battle under very dire circumstances, but that little concession did nothing to ease the Slytherin's constant worrying.

Ron's eyes shifted back and forth, as well as over his shoulder behind him, keeping track of Madam Malkin and their fathers outside. "It's happening, Harry," Ron whispered. "They're going to fight back. When we go to war on the Muggles."

"That's ridiculous," Harry shook his head swiftly from side to side thinking that Ron had to have heard something wrong. There was no way a war was coming and Severus hadn't known about it. "We're not going to war against the Muggles, Ron. I'm sure I'd have heard about it by now if we were. Another war is Severus's worst nightmare and he'd move us to Australia if it came to that."

"I dunno, mate," the redhead grimaced, but continued talking to his feet, "Hermione and I overheard my mum and dad talking to Dumbledore about it the other day where… were staying for the summer."

This time, it was Harry's turn to widen his eyes, "You don't mean…" he trailed off, getting his thoughts together and whispered, "...The Order."

Ron didn't speak, just gave his head an almost imperceptible nod.

"No," Harry said, a feeling of consternation filling him up inside. His friend couldn't be getting involved with the radical group, and yet he knew it had to be true. Everyone had known Ron's parents were accused of being a part of the organization in the first war - it was one of the reasons his parents wouldn't let him go anywhere with them unsupervised - and they'd gone to trial after the Ministry fell into Lord Voldemort's hands, but somehow they'd been cleared of the charges. If he remembered the story right, they'd gotten out based on some connection that had never been fully released to the public, even after all this time. But what Ron was now saying could get them not only thrown into Azkaban for life, but get the Dementor's Kiss for treason. Just the thought of his best friends… it was too much for him.

"Are you crazy?!" Harry looked all around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about, which in itself would land them in front of the Wizengamot. "Ron, what you're talking about is… it's…" he couldn't even say it out loud.

"C'mon, mate," the redhead leaned in closer to him, "isn't it you who's been telling us over and over about needing to take a stand against it all? Think about your mum, and Hermione… and her parents. I know you haven't met them, but they don't deserve what's about to happen any more than Hermione deserves not to be able to walk into this store because we randomly saw you and she didn't declare she'd be at Madam Malkin's this afternoon. We can finally put an end to it all."

He was right, it wasn't fair to their friend or his mum, and it was what he'd spent the last several years at school standing up against. But that was in school, where things were different and more controlled. What Ron was talking about, what they were wanting to do was far bigger than anything he'd ever considered. A quick look over his shoulder showed Severus and Mr Weasley still talking in what now appeared like a heated argument.

"So where are you guys staying?" Harry found himself asking before he could stop himself, not necessarily because he was interested; he thought he should know where his friends were, just in case any bad news reached him.

"I can't say it obviously, but it's an old flat here in London. Rather dreary if you ask me, and the place reeks of Dark Magic, but it's safe enough for all the… old crowd," Ron's face had doubt written all over it, then brightened up before he added, "I think it was your Godfather's or something. His name is on an old family tapestry that Hermione and I found the other day."

At the mention of his Godfather, Sirius Black, an angry fire started to burn inside the raven-haired Gryffindor. Harry had been told about the man growing up, when he had seen the long black haired wizard acting as close as a brother to his biological father in pictures of his real parents' wedding day. What he'd been told was that Sirius was James's best friend, but joined the Order early on in his life and was assigned to protect the Longbottoms, but all four - Sirius, the two Longbottom parents, and their son Neville - had been killed by Lord Voldemort himself back in 1981. While he had asked both his mum and Severus why an entire random family needed a group like the Order to protect them, neither would give him a solid answer. All that mattered was that Sirius Black died a traitor to his people. Which only further complicated his feelings about what Ron was telling him was happening in secret.

"Listen," Ron continued, and Harry looked to his left, beyond the youngest Weasley wizard at his stepfather returning, "just think about it, alright? You could actually make a difference, Harry. It's what you've always wanted to do, and now's the time to do it."

"Ready?" Severus sternly asked, looking down upon Harry from his towering position above him. The Gryffindor clenched his jaw as he thought back to this year and he allowed his anger to flow through him. "Mr Weasley, your father is waiting for you outside. You best go with him."

Ron audibly gulped, as did most of the students when talking to their "evil Potions Professor". It was one of the reasons Harry had gotten pretty popular early on. To those students who hadn't already known that the man was Harry's stepfather - since the young wizard still kept his Potter surname, even after the adoption - he appeared either incredibly brave, or had a death wish, when he challenged the professor in class or in the corridors. The fact that he was the son of James Potter, the wizard who sacrificed himself allowing Lord Voldemort to finally conquer the Ministry, and was standing up against someone with the Dark Mark, helped him gain quite a bit of influence early on. It wasn't to the level Draco had in Slytherin, but it was a close second overall and enough for him to know one very important thing: if he declared himself - or aligned himself - with the Order, people would feel empowered to follow him. It was far too much power for a wizard just shy of sixteen.

"Yes, sir," Ron answered respectfully, bringing Harry back to the present situation in front of him.

"Ron!" Harry called out before his friend had left the store. Giving his stepfather a quick glance over his shoulder, he met the redhead halfway through the store and positioned himself in a way that would shield his next action from his stepfather. "Can you give this to 'Mione? It won't do any good mailing it to her now."

"Sure thing," Ron took the letter Harry discreetly held out for him. "Think about what I said, alright?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, filing that information away for later, unsure exactly what there was to consider. It wasn't like he could go find this hidden flat that used to belong to his Godfather, no matter what he decided about the situation in the end. "I'll think about it."

"Everything alright, Harry?"

The young wizard was once again pulled from his wandering thoughts by Severus's question. After finishing their purchase of Harry's new dress robes, and stopping by the apothecary to refill several of Severus's personal Potions ingredients, it was past lunchtime and they decided to eat at the Leaky Cauldron before heading home. The pair were seated at a corner table - which would have been odd given how few patrons were there on a Wednesday afternoon if it weren't for the fact that they always sat at this table - eating their lunch; fish and chips for Harry and stew for his stepfather.

Harry had spent the better part of their morning after Madam Malkin's thinking about what Ron had told him. There was a war coming, or at least the Order thought there was one, and he wasn't sure how that news made him feel inside. Was it more propaganda from the radical side to try and gain followers? The more he thought about it, the more that seemed like the only option. Severus had been very vocal about their plans should another war arise, and the young wizard had no doubt the man would pull the trigger on those plans and move them all far away before travel became restricted for them too. He'd probably position it as a random holiday abroad to get his mum easily out and they simply wouldn't come back. The idea of that was infuriating; that this one person had so much power over him simply because his mother fell in love with him and they collectively decided it was best if the man had the same parental rights as a father. Yes, it made life easier for Harry with a Halfblood father instead only his Muggleborn mother, but if it were used against him to move, there wasn't much he would be able to do about it.

"Why were you talking to Mr Weasley?" Harry asked, hoping he would not only gain more information on what his friends were up to, but also distract himself from his actual turbulent thoughts.

"That is none of your concern," Severus replied, obviously not buying the seemingly random question as he intently looked over the table at his son.

"You looked angry," Harry added, treading lightly in hopes of not pushing too hard to cause the man to close up completely. "Was Ron really that bad this year?" He added with a forced laugh.

"Out of all the Weasleys," Severus said with a small shake of his head, "your friend is hardly the 'bad one'."

That time the Gryffindor really did laugh, "Then I take it you're happy to see Fred and George go?"

"Me and every other professor in that school," the Potions Master said. He paused looking over at Harry's innocent green eyes filled with curiosity over what his friend's father - a known blood traitor - was doing speaking to him. "They, Fred and George Weasley, sent several missives at the end of last year requesting my assistance in one of their latest endeavors."

"You mean their joke shop?" Harry asked with a smile. It had been a dream of the twins to start this shop, but the way they wanted to run it would break at least a dozen laws and the regulations to get around it was extensive. If they could get away with it, Harry thought they'd make a fortune from it, but too many of their current designs could be used as weapons and therefore had no chance of getting the required approvals from the Ministry.

"Don't tell me you've gotten involved in this ridiculous plan too?" His question was laced in disappointment and Harry was starting to regret opening up to his stepfather this one time. Seeing the young wizard's reaction, he continued, "In order for any of their… inventions… to even be considered, they need each formulation signed off and endorsed by a current Potions Master. Naturally, they'd hoped to utilize the relationship between Ron and yourself to their advantage. A little Slytherin for a family of pure Gryffindors, if you ask me, but Arthur was simply checking on my stance."

Harry really considered the story he was being told. While it all checked out with what he knew the twins were working on in regards to their joke shop idea - tentatively named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes - it didn't account for the length of the conversation or the aggression on Severus's face during the small pieces Harry had seen.

Deciding it was best to continue the ruse, the Gryffindor took a casual bite of his breaded fish and asked, "And what did you tell him?"

Again, Severus watched his son with the eyes of a hawk, looking for anything that might have shown what was going through his young mind, "That the idea was more likely to land them in Azkaban at best and secretly killed at worst. That if they continued, they may one day simply vanish from existence."

That was a thing too, and Harry shivered at the reminder. People often just disappeared, mostly when they did or said something against Lord Voldemort or his policies. He knew it was why his parents had been so worried over his resistance to the Muggleborn laws, but his father died a hero and, at least so far, that had mostly protected him even if he didn't fully realize or understand it. No one ever challenged what happened to these missing witches and wizards, instead they just weren't ever talked about again. It was ironic that Severus had brought it up because Harry had only personally - and even that was a stretch - known of it happening to one person and it would be the second time that family was brought up today.

Regulus Black was the younger brother of Sirius, and while he was a known Death Eater fighting - based on the few details Harry had been told - valiantly beside Severus and James through most of the first war, he went missing suddenly right before Voldemort took power. He was believed to have been killed after being discovered as a traitor, but his body was never recovered and there was never a search for him; at least not one sponsored by the new Ministry. And he wasn't the only one; supposedly there was a place in the Department of Mysteries keeping track of "The Missing", as they were so aptly called, and Harry couldn't even fathom how he would feel should one of his friends end up on that mysterious list. He would rather be on the list than his friends or his parents. It was a simple parasitic thought that he had no way of anticipating how it would work its way further into his mind, refusing to let go no matter how conflicted he felt about the situation as a whole.

"That would be bad," Harry lamely said in an effort to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible, but instead he could see something behind his stepfather's eyes that told him he wasn't going to like what was coming.

Without even pulling out his ebony wand, Severus warded the air around them reminding Harry just how powerful of a wizard his stepfather really was. If he ever got into a situation where he'd be dueling Severus, the young wizard was almost positive he wouldn't come close to standing a chance.

"That actually brings me to another point I wished to discuss with you," the Slytherin said after taking a sip of his tea. "I don't think you should be in contact with the Weasleys any longer."

The air inside of Harry's lungs immediately left his body as if he'd taken a hard blow to the chest, although he'd not been physically touched. Could Severus really do that? Forbid him from talking with his best friend? And over what? If he was truly talking to Arthur about the twins' joke shop - and now he knew that absolutely couldn't be it - it had nothing to do with Harry, and therefore there was no reason to prevent him from talking to his friends. It was bad enough that he was never allowed to visit the Burrow when Mrs Weasley invited him every single summer; now to be forbidden to contact them?

"That's not fair," Harry said the first thing that came to his mind once he caught his breath. "You can't do that!"

"Actually, as the person responsible for your safety," the Potions Master replied very clinically, almost too detached for the sensitive subject matter at hand, "I absolutely can do that. As for it being fair? Life isn't fair, Harry, you see that every single day with your mother. Why do you think she's not here bringing you to get your dress robes instead of me?"

It was a rhetorical question, even Harry in his current irate state of mind knew that; going anywhere with his mother was a long and tedious process that required planning. She wouldn't have been able to go inside the Apothecary with them when Severus randomly remembered he needed more beetle eyes for some commissioned work he was doing this summer - as if the man didn't already have enough work to do - and would have been left waiting outside. Today was a beautiful day, but if it were snowing or pouring rain, it wouldn't have mattered, she wouldn't be allowed the simple courtesy of stepping out of the elements because her wand was tagged a different color than his and Severus's.

"That's bollocks and you know it. This has nothing to do with my safety," Harry challenged, surprising even himself that he'd managed to, so far, keep his rising temper under control. "Let's call it what it is: you just want to be in control. The Weasleys don't fit into your idealistic vision for your family, so you're cutting them out!"

"Don't be so dramatic, that is not what I said," Severus clenched his jaw tight as he said the words, "you have no idea the fire you're about to play with and the sleeping dragon on the other side of it. You will not be contacting Ron, Hermione, or any of the Weasleys for the rest of the summer."

Harry aggressively pushed his plate across the table, barely noticing the last of the chips that fell from it onto the floor. He gave a small sarcastic chuckle, "And what about next year? At school? How are you going to stop me from talking to him in the common room? Or in our dorms? Are you going to move in?"

"Now you're being ridiculous-"

"Or maybe," Harry curtly interrupted, on his own warpath now, "I'm not going back to Hogwarts. That's really the only way you can guarantee I don't have any communication with them!"

"Harry-"

"No!" Harry yelled again, this time standing so quickly his chair toppled over drawing attention to them from the few patrons eating in the drabby restaurant. "I hate you!"

The moment the words left his mouth, the young wizard looked away so he wouldn't see the disappointment and pain in the obsidian eyes watching him. Throughout the years, Harry had said a lot of not-so-nice things to his stepfather, but he'd never told the man he hated him. The Gryffindor had come close to it plenty of times, especially in the last three years, but that word was one he generally reserved for the likes of Lord Voldemort and his truly oppressive followers; like the Lestranges or the Carrows. Needing to do something, anything, to get away, Harry took off towards the stairway so he could floo back home, desperate to put as much space between himself and Severus as possible.

~~~~SS~~~~

The moment Harry stood, Severus knew he was going home, making this entire situation far more complicated than he ever wanted it to be. All he wanted was to make sure Harry wasn't sending or receiving anything that could be used against him should it fall into the wrong hands; something that was unfortunately far too easy nowadays. As he made his way up the stairs to the public floo, his anger over Harry's completely unproportional reaction continued to grow. So by the time he exited the floo back into his small sitting room, he was just as angry as Harry was, and the last person he wanted there to greet him was Lily.

"What's going on, Severus?" She accusingly asked. "All you needed to do was get a new set of dress robes and Harry just came running through the house claiming you're ruining his life."

"I'll tell you about it later," he replied, pushing himself past his wife and heading towards the stairs leading to the two bedrooms and the single, shared lavatory on the second floor.

"Severus!" Lily followed him in his wake, but he didn't care one bit. He was too focused on getting to Harry's room and demanding some respect from the teen. "Would you stop?!"

Right before he opened the door, just as his hand was reaching for the knob, Lily's small frame came running in front of him and blocked the door.

"Move out of the way," he demanded.

"No."

She stood there with her hand tightly crossed over her chest. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a maroon shirt with small yellow stars across it making her look like she was on her way to cheer on the Gryffindor team while watching Harry play Quidditch. Her dark red hair framed her pale face, and those green eyes stared up into his own, almost reaching through him and into his soul. It was that simple command from the woman he loved that finally reached him. What exactly was he going to do when he tore open that door? After James's death, knowing that getting together with Lily meant that he would become a father - stepfather, but essentially responsible for a child's well-being nonetheless - terrified him to no end. In fact, the fear of becoming Tobias Snape was almost what stopped him from dating Lily to begin with; that and the complicated mess of James's death, the one no one really knew about but him. He was happy he'd finally gained the courage to officially ask her out, and he never asked her reasoning for accepting. So far in his role as Harry's stepfather, he'd never come as close to acting like his own father as he was standing outside of Harry's door. So what was he going to do? The fear of his answer prevented him from going any further in that thought process.

"Lily," he reigned in his anger as he said her name, the name that in the back of his mind he always feared he'd never get to say again, "it's a long story."

"Then come with me and tell me," she placed her hands down at her side and reached out to hold his own. "He'll cool down and then we'll figure it out, together… like we always do. I just can't have you both constantly fighting over every little thing."

He followed her lead into their bedroom, where he sat down on the bed, which was perfectly made with their light yellow bedspread that had small blue flowers scattered throughout it. Like everything else Lily touched in the formerly dark house, this room resembled nothing of its previous form. The walls were painted in a bright sky blue - a compromise from the lavender his wife had originally wanted - which balanced the darker wood finishes around the room and the furniture. Their bed was positioned on the middle of the wall opposite of the doorway with a set of drawers with a mirror on top directly across from it flush with the door. The small window on the left faced out towards the street, leaving Harry's significantly smaller room the better view of the river out back. Each side of the bed had a small bedside table with the latest activity they worked on before going to sleep each night; Severus's side, closest to the door, had a Potions Journal, and Lily's had a small sketch pad with pencils where she drew every night.

"This isn't a little thing, Lil," he replied, looking to his right where she had sat down next to him. He took a cleansing breath, needing to let go of what he'd been holding onto since dinner with the Malfoys, which was only made worse by his conversation outside of Madam Malkin's with Arthur. "On Saturday, Lucius alluded to an announcement that will be made at the gala. And then in his office last week, he was talking about finally taking back what's rightfully ours."

"The Muggles?" She asked and he could tell she had no clue how this related to Harry's angry mood when he returned from Diagon Alley.

"It's a war, Lily," his eyes filled with the pain he was feeling inside of him, "and that's not all…"

A pregnant pause fell over them as Lily waited patiently for him to continue. Her hands were placed neatly in her lap and she was anxiously twisting her wedding band around her ring finger. It was her telltale sign that she was nervous and likely knew where this was going.

"I saw Arthur in Diagon Alley," he eventually said, "actually, he and Ron found us and… he's trying to recruit me."

"No," Lily shook her head in disbelief, "why would he think you'd get involved with them?"

Severus clicked his teeth together as he considered how much to tell his wife. The last thing she needed was to be dragged through the mud of this mess. He had abruptly ended his spying days for the Order the night the Ministry had fallen, and then he vowed never to return when he married Lily, who - at least as far as he knew - hadn't known he was a double agent to begin with. From that moment on, his life was simple: do whatever it took to keep Harry and Lily safe. At the time, that meant keeping his Death Eater persona active, but as subdued as possible; basically to try to hide Harry in plain sight. Now that plan would be tested in every facet of their life.

Lily left the Order right after James's defection in August of 1980 and all the professor knew about the situation was that it almost ended their marriage. He could easily see why, and had been very blunt when explaining it to James the night he showed up at this very house with the wild plan to save his son from becoming the subject of the prophecy. Severus had not so nicely - not caring in the slightest about hurting Potter's feelings - explained that had Lily been accepting being with a Death Eater, they probably wouldn't have gotten married to begin with; it would have been Severus all along. James wasn't shy about bringing up that awful day in their fifth year when he'd called her that awful name, telling him that he alone was the reason his friendship with Lily had ended. And somehow, that was the start of an odd dependency, for the Slytherin and Gryffindor, on each other.

"They're probably desperate," Severus finally answered, feigning his ignorance on the matter. It wasn't technically a lie, which is what he told himself to make the situation feel less troubling inside of himself. "Whatever their reasoning, no good can come from this."

"No! Of course not," she said astounded. "What did you tell him? I can't believe he'd think you'd join them. Arthur Weasley?"

Severus shook his head confirming it was in fact, Arthur Weasley. Then gave a sigh of relief when he could honestly answer her first question, "I told him I'm not interested in whatever it is they're planning… that I value mine and my family's life too much to throw it all away. And that's when he told me about the Muggle War coming, that they're preparing to fight."

Lily huffed angrily in a reaction that confused the wizard, "So they'll come out of whatever hiding they've been in to protect the muggles?! Where have they been this whole time?!"

It was a reaction he hadn't expected from her, but he couldn't disagree with. The Order would have a hard time gaining followers after leaving the Wizarding World to the hands of Lord Voldemort for over a decade. He'd asked Arthur something similar - his questioning more along the lines of why do they think now is the right time - and so he was comfortable sharing the answer he'd received, "I don't know about where they've been, but Arthur said they think the Ministry will be spread thin enough in the upcoming battles to get some good traction against them. They're not doing it for the Muggles, or at least that's not the impression I got."

"So then… the Weasleys are for sure…" she trailed off and covered her mouth with her delicate hand when her train of thought caught up to where his mind frame had been at lunch with Harry.

"Yes," he answered the unspoken question, "and it's only a matter of time before Harry finds out or even worse they try to recruit him too. I doubt Molly and Arthur would allow Ron and Ginny to actually participate in any Order activities, but just in case, I told Harry he shouldn't be in contact with them any longer."

"Sev," Lily said, disappointedly, "you can't tell him things like that."

"I was being honest!" He defended, "Or as honest as I felt comfortable being. What should I have done? If he finds out-"

"I know," his wife interrupted and leaned against his side. Slowly, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders wishing he could protect her from everything that was barreling towards them. They sat in that position, just the two of them contemplating the best way to save the son they loved.

"We can leave," he suggested, already knowing she would refuse, but he had to try. "I can get us the necessary documents and we can leave tonight. Now is the best time to do it. Come tomorrow's announcement at the gala, it will be too late. They'll put restrictions in place and-"

His anxious talking - something that very rarely occurred - was interrupted by Lily's soft lips meeting his own. Even given all the troubles they've been through, all the hurdles they'd jumped, she knew exactly how to calm him. He focused on her lips, softly against his own, allowing his mind to be taken far away from the rundown Spinner's End, from the Ministry and its impending war, and from Hogwarts where he was surrounded by both sides practically pulling him apart. So when she broke their spontaneous kiss and he opened his eyes to her emerald green ones, he knew what the answer was: to keep on the current course and hopefully they'd get ahead of both sides somehow.

~~~~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.

~~~~HP~~~~

The morning after any previous years' Midsummer's Gala was always a day of rest for Harry. It was a day he was allowed to have a lie in, recovering from being up late celebrating the Summer Solstice with fireworks, bonfires, a late night dessert reception, and often not getting back until well after the middle of the night. This year, he was allowed to have the coveted lie in as he could hear his parents' murmurs from downstairs, but neither wanted to come and wake him, though it had nothing to do with the festivities wearing them all out or getting home in the early hours of the morning; was because none of them knew how to handle the 'new normal' on the face of an upcoming war. Once they were awake - as his parents had obviously discovered - life would change whether they were ready or not.

He was grateful his parents had understood his hesitation to speak with them after his stepfather landed them - literally speaking - on their doorstep; expertly between the wards protecting the property and those shielding them from any muggles walking by. Harry never ventured outside long after dark in Cokeworth because the people who came out at night looked about as safe as Bellatrix Lestrange, and while he never had any encounters with any of them, he wanted to keep it that way. With only a "g'night, I love you," he'd come up to his room and changed out of his new green dress robes knowing that every time he saw them, he'd be reminded of the row with Severus at the Leaky Cauldron and the disaster at the Midsummer's Gala.

An attack by Order; it couldn't be a coincidence. Harry - through years of listening to Severus - didn't believe in coincidences and there was no way the conversation with Ron about the Order, the announcement of going to war against the Muggles, and the attack at the Ministry weren't related to one another. He just couldn't figure out what that connection had to do with him and it was trying to connect those dots that kept the Gryffindor up until almost dawn.

He woke up late Saturday to a deep blue sky and the warm, bright sun gleaming in through his window. The outside was so far from the way he felt inside of himself that it was almost nauseating; as if his body was going through vertigo and if they could only align a little better he could make it through the day unscathed. He was never that lucky, and so he grudgingly swung his legs over the side of his small bed not at all ready to face whatever the day had in store for him. His emerald eyes were drawn to the pile of green fabric lying unceremoniously on the floor next to his feet, so even if he wanted to forget about the last two days, he wouldn't be able to. In his haste to go to bed and rid himself of the awful night, he'd deposited the dress robes in the first place he could - and that was on the floor - before getting into his navy pyjamas. Had his mum woken him up that morning, he would have heard an earful from her about how careless he was with his belongings and then lectured him on a bunch of things he probably wouldn't remember.

Picking up the wrinkled robes, straightening them out the best he could without magic and then uprighting them to hang, a small piece of parchment - folded right across the middle - fell from somewhere inside of them. He curiously watched as it floated to the floor right above his bare feet, like it had been charmed to find a place where he was guaranteed to see it, therefore preventing him from promptly ignoring it as rubbish. Placing the robes nicely onto his bed, the Gryffindor crouched down to inspect the parchment. The fact that he couldn't remember placing anything in his robe pockets last night immediately put him on edge about where this had come from and what was written in it. Without removing his line of vision on the parchment, Harry reached his arm back to grab a quill he knew he always kept on his bedside table, and used the tool to unfold the parchment. He sighed when he recognized the perfect script from Hermione, but it still didn't account for how her response had ended up in his possession to begin with.

Now that he was comfortable enough with whom the mysterious parchment was from, he picked it up and sat back onto his bed to read what his Muggleborn friend had to say about his letter to her:

Dear Harry,

Good idea having Ron deliver your letter yesterday, that was some quick thinking! It looks like the best way for us to send correspondence this summer is through a messenger since we can't trust the owl service or even the muggle post any longer. I know he told you where we are staying (I can't actually write it down) and I want you to know that we're safe. After tonight, things are going to drastically change, but I'm still hoping to be at school in September. No, I haven't gotten my O.W.L. marks yet and given the turn of events I'm very nervous to get them back.

As for the other part of your letter, it sounds like you found a muggle drug called cocaine. It's extremely addictive and illegal to buy and sell. Unfortunately, your friend sounds like he was selling it to the other two men. If I were you, I would stay away from him - no good can come from the situation. If you want to help him, the best help you can give him is to tell your parents. Since they both grew up in that muggle community, I'm sure they'll know the right precautions to take to keep your friend (and you) safe. Getting involved with drugs can be extremely dangerous, so Harry, please don't try to handle this yourself. For once, get your parents involved. With everything going on in the wizarding community now, I don't want anything bad to happen to you.

We'll try to stay in touch as much as possible. Please think about what I've written, Harry, and what Ron told you about the other day.

Love you,

Hermione

Harry folded the parchment and held it between his hands as he contemplated what he'd just read. What was Chris doing with muggle drugs? There wasn't much he knew about them, except that they were bad and could cause a lot of damage. Growing up in a place like Cokeworth unfortunately meant his parents needed to tell him about the dangers of them, but that was all he knew… and that he would get in an awful lot of trouble if his parents - especially Severus - found out he had some in his wardrobe. Tucking the Gryffindor witch's letter under his pillow, he went to the lavatory for a quick shower trying to come up with some way he could tell his mum - in an effort to get Chris the help he needed - without his stepfather finding out; either accidentally or by his mum telling him.

Finally ready to start the day around lunchtime, Harry made his way down to the kitchen. Since it was Saturday - he loved when the gala fell on a Friday or Saturday because the fact that Severus didn't have to get up for work made him feel less guilty about waking up late - he could still hear his parents murmuring; not muffled like a Muffliato spell, just quiet talking on the other side of the door.

"...don't have a choice," he heard his stepfather firmly say to his mum. "At this point-"

The talking abruptly stopped, telling the young wizard his presence had been discovered. They may not have put up any silencing wards, but they had put up alarms to notify them when he was in listening distance. Not wanting to push his luck, he opened the door and was greeted by the biggest display of food he'd seen on a non-holiday afternoon. When his mum got nervous she either cleaned or baked and since the small home was already kept in such a neat and tidy condition, that apparently left her baking the entire morning possibly ever since they got back. Based on the kitchen around him, the young wizard could only assume she was absolutely terrified over something; if Harry had to guess, it would be the muggle war. Thinking back to Hermione's letter, now there was no way he could get his mother involved with what happened the other day with Chris. There was no doubt in his mind that it would push her over the edge she was already dangling precariously close to.

Lily was wearing a soft yellow apron over yet another floral dress, coral colored this time with small white flowers that Harry thought were daisies, but wasn't completely sure. Her hands were coated in pure white flour which was also splashed across her apron, in the hair that framed her face, and smeared across her forehead. That was nothing compared to the countertops, though. Harry was sure there wasn't a spot on them that wasn't coated in flour, batter, sprinkles, or peanuts. And that was just the preparation area. The table was covered in loaves of fresh bread, biscuits - sugar, chocolate chip, and, Harry's favorite, peanut butter - and brownies, each in their own tray and the bread was floating above the rest because the small table had already run out of room. On the far end of the table, in what was usually his mum's seat was Severus, reading the latest copy of The Daily Prophet that was sure to have some kind of coverage from the gala and, possibly, with the right spin to it, the Order attack on the Ministry. Somehow, Severus managed to be completely flour-free regardless of wearing black trousers and a black Oxford shirt.

"Erm," Harry nervously said, looking around at the odd sight before him. "Did you sleep at all mum?"

"Of course I did, sweetheart," she answered him in a way that he knew was a lie, gave him a small kiss on the cheek, and then back around to continue baking. Severus shuffled the paper down and gave a look towards Lily and shook his head slightly.

"So... what's going on?" The young wizard carefully asked. "Obviously…" he gestured to the room around him.

"Don't," Lily turned around and pointed a spatula in Severus's direction; she was baking - or more accurately frosting - what looked like a carrot cake. "He absolutely doesn't need to see it!"

"Well, now I kind of have to," Harry logically retorted. "It's not like I wasn't there last night. I heard what had happened."

"It's not that, Harry," his stepfather said. It had been a while since he'd heard that voice from the Potion Master; when he was talking about something uncomfortable, like when the Gryffindor was little and used to ask where his dad - James - was and when he'd be coming home. Harry didn't even remember James anymore, but somehow remembered those conversations with Severus like they were yesterday.

"I mean it, Sev," his mum warned again and Harry almost gagged at the nickname she used for the professor. "If you so much as give him that paper…"

"You'll what?" The Slytherin challenged and Harry felt like he was stepping in the middle of something he shouldn't be involved in. "He's going to find out at some point."

"Yes," this time Lily firmly placed her frosting covered hands on her hips, "but that point doesn't have to be today."

Harry rolled his eyes feeling confident that his stepfather would agree enough with him not to lecture him on the behavior; a first, which demonstrated just how much this upcoming war had already changed their family. At this point, the fact that she was intentionally keeping it from him was enough for him to think the worst of the situation.

"As you wish," his stepfather said before vanishing the paper away. Harry felt the disappointment settle over his chest, thinking maybe the other wizard had finally seen his side of things, but apparently he'd been wrong.

Helping himself to a peanut butter biscuit before pulling back the last remaining chair not covered in baked goods, daring to sit down, Harry's eyes went wide when he saw on the seat a small novel sized version of The Daily Prophet. His head shot up to look at Severus, who simply placed his right finger over his lips; their secret… this was something that was supposed to be just between the two of them. He gave his stepfather a small nod and tucked the miniature paper under his shirt.

"So, biscuits for lunch?" Harry asked with a smirk. "What are we going to do with all this, mum?"

Severus raised his eyebrows just as interested to hear the answer to the second question. Lily turned around frantically, taking in the baking scene around her. Harry held his breath waiting for her explosive reaction to his inquiry, but instead of her angry yell, she started laughing; a deep belly laugh that made Harry very uncomfortable. The young wizard looked across the table at Severus who didn't look nearly as amused as he was about his mother's random reaction to their kitchen completely covered in baked goods. The laughing didn't stop in what would have been an appropriate time and she continued as she held the edge of the counter for support.

Picking up on some unknown signal that Harry completely missed, Severus unceremoniously stood and walked to his wife. The exact moment his arms were wrapped around her, the hysterical laughter turned into heart breaking sobs. Feeling his face flush at the uncomfortable sudden change of mood, the Gryffindor wizard pulled the Daily Prophet out from under his shirt to take a quick peek at what his mother hadn't wanted him to see. At first there wasn't anything surprising; he'd expected to see the announcement of the war splashed across the front page along with a moving photograph of Lucius on stage giving his speech - a moment that would go down forever in Wizarding history - so the headline War is Upon Us! didn't cause him any apprehension. His eyes moved to the sub-headline, placed directly underneath the caption, and his breath was literally knocked from his lungs when he read:

All Wizards Between the Ages of 15 and 35 Must Register at the Department of Magical Defenses.

All he could think was that he had to be reading this wrong. While turning sixteen meant he was closer to his majority than he would have liked going into a time of war, he was still a year away so he assumed he would've been exempt. Could they really require wizards - kids - two years below the age they even allowed them to use magic outside of school to go to battle?

"It will be alright, Lily," Harry heard Severus say once his mum's sobbing slowed down, but he could hear the doubt in his normally solid and sure voice. If he sounded scared and unsure then it was definitely not going to be alright. Not wanting to get his stepfather in trouble for stealthily giving him the Daily Prophet, Harry placed it back underneath his shirt.

"Sorry," Lily said, back to her sweet voice, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Giving one more look around the tiny kitchen, she said to Harry, "Why don't you order takeaway for lunch?"

"Chinese?" Harry hopefully asked, knowing it was one of his mum's favorites, but Severus practically hated the cuisine.

"Yes," his stepfather answered before the Gryffindor witch could. "There's some muggle notes on my desk."

Now Harry was sure the world was coming to an end; Chinese food for lunch and he was being allowed to go downstairs to Severus's laboratory turned office, not to mention enough biscuits, cake, and bread to feed the whole neighborhood.

When the food was ordered and would hopefully be on its way shortly, Harry carefully walked back into the kitchen. Most of the flour and cake batter had been cleaned up already and Severus was standing by the countertop with his back towards the door Harry had just entered, leaning against it with all of his weight pressing on the palms of his hands.

"Where did mum go?" Harry asked, now unsure if he was supposed to return to the kitchen or go back to his bedroom before lunch was here.

Severus turned around and the young wizard took note of how exhausted he looked. When the young wizard had first come into the baking extravaganza he had been more focused on finding out what his mum wanted to keep from him and didn't really look at how his stepfather was handling this. As long as Harry had known the other wizard - which was as long as he could remember - he hid his emotions from everyone around him. In fact, Harry sometimes questioned if he even told Lily when something was plaguing his complicated mind. Harry's emerald eyes looked across the room at the man who had stepped in to help take care of him and his mum and now things were going to get infinitely more complicated.

"Take a seat, Harry," Severus told him, but not in a commanding way that the Gryffindor would have expected and would have defied. "Your mother went to take a quick shower and I'd like to speak with you before lunch is here."

Harry resisted the urge to argue, choosing to simply nod, and made his way to the table which now held small baskets of each type of sweet his mum had made. There was no doubt an extension charm had been added to each basket, otherwise Harry knew all the food wouldn't have fit. When Severus sat down, Harry took another good look at the man. Unlike the first time the young wizard had entered the room, his previously pristine black shirt and trousers were coated with flour, meaning he had been the one to clean up the mess throughout the kitchen the muggle way. Curious of the reason, Harry almost asked, but stopped himself when he noticed Severus's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, allowing the Gryffindor to see the Dark Mark which the other wizard rarely ever showed. Before last night's announcement, carrying the Dark Mark - especially the old style design Severus bore - was a mark of honor. All new military personnel were marked with it, however Severus's was from the original Death Eaters group; from being inside Lord Voldemort's inner circle of followers. His biological father had one, too. With Severus's help, James Potter had worked his way up the ranks until he was bestowed the honor of his Lord's mark so he could be summoned at will. Harry knew the entire Wizarding World expected him to join, with pride, as his father and stepfather had, and just the thought caused bile to rise up the back of his throat.

"Did you see the front page of the Prophet," Severus jumped right into the conversation, and Harry shouldn't have expected any less.

"Of course I did," Harry responded with more sarcasm than he was originally going for. He was feeling defensive, like if he didn't show some kind of resistance to all of this, he might crumble apart. "Am I really going to have to fight?"

The professor paused longer than Harry was comfortable with, but then he shook his head and replied, "I'm going to see Lucius first thing Monday morning to see if there is anything I can do to prevent that from happening. While I doubt they'd send fifteen and sixteen year olds to battle the Muggles, I promise you I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of this."

"What about you?" Harry found himself asking as he not so subtly stared at the Dark Mark. Feeling self-conscious, Severus rolled his sleeves down and Harry added, "Can he call you again? Will you be going to fight?"

"Yes he can, and he probably will," the Death Eater answered honestly, "I can't imagine I'll be called to the front lines, but I'm sure I'll be pulled in for something relating to the war besides brewing wound cleansing potions and Polyjuice."

Harry was confused by his own feelings about what he'd just heard. It was no secret that he and Severus had their issues, and again both of his fathers were - or had been - Death Eaters, but that didn't mean he wanted the man to go stand by Lord Voldemort's side. If he were really honest with himself, which he resisted being on this topic, he wasn't even sure which side of the fence Severus truly fell on. The professor's muggle father had been… well, Harry assumed from the small bits he'd heard the man hadn't been very good. So it didn't surprise the Gryffindor one bit that his stepfather hated muggles.

"I take it that's what caused-" he motioned his hands all around the kitchen, "-all of this."

"She's a bit worried," Severus looked over at Harry, "as am I."

Harry was uncomfortable with the declaration made from his stepfather which he could only assume had to do more with Harry's involvement than his own. Even growing up, before Harry changed his views away from his family's, he and Severus never talked about their feelings; they both just knew. More recently though, things were different. A parent was supposed to love their child unconditionally; he never questioned his mum's love for him even when things between them were strained. The fact that Severus wasn't his biological parent left him in this middle purgatory, never really knowing if he was granted that unconditional caveat. If Harry pushed hard enough against the anti-muggleborn propaganda, would Severus turn his back on his stepson?

"What about Australia?" The young wizard asked, with a half smile hoping to steer them towards more neutral ground, "I always assumed you had some grand plan to-"

"It's too late for that," Severus interrupted, shaking his head so his dark, greasy hair fell across his pale face. "Effective immediately there have been restrictions for all travel across Britain, not mention in or out of the country, and with your mother… let's just say it's not an option any longer."

Harry tried to ignore what sounded like grief or regret coming from his stepfather's dark voice. They'd miss the window to leave and he questioned if that was intentional or an oversight on one - or both - of his parents.

"Things are going to change now, aren't they?" The young wizard asked, wishing he sounded braver than he felt inside. To alleviate his own awkwardness, he focused his attention in running his finger across the table, imagining he was ice skating across the smooth wooden surface.

"They will," Severus said, his head turning as he watched the fifteen year old across from him, wishing his son didn't have to grow up in the world he had himself. "We'll get through it one step at a time, and first, on Monday, I'll see what kind of flexibility there is on the military registration. If you can't get out of registering, then I'll find out anything I can on what type of positions they're looking for. Even with magic on our side, I'm afraid the wizarding world is at a tactical disadvantage to the muggles, so I'm interested to see their plans to account for that level inequality. We've waited this long, Harry," he tried to reassure the Gryffindor, "the Ministry would not go forward now if they did not think we would come out on top."

But the fact was that Harry didn't trust them, not one bit; why would he put his trust in an organization that had never really put the welfare of their citizens above their own selfish agenda? He carefully watched the wizard across from him trying to determine if he really believed that too or if he was just saying it to shed a little positivity on the overall grim situation.

Before he had a chance to say anything else about it all, there was a soft knock on their front door, essentially breaking their moment of honesty; something that didn't happen nearly as often as it should. Neither wizard made to move, even as another knock - much louder than the first - came from the front door.

"Lunch is here," Harry said, drawing his stepfather's attention out of whatever he had been thinking about, "want me to get it?"

"Please," Severus replied without any further comment or direction, another first for the pair.

Happy to have a reason to leave the awkward kitchen, Harry made his way to the front door, pulling out the muggle notes and counting out the correct amount to pay for lunch. Not paying attention - thinking about seeing the cute Asian girl who usually delivered from this restaurant - when he opened the door, he jumped in shock at the sight of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy standing outside of his home. Without thinking, he slammed the door closed.

"Is lunch here?" His mum asked, as she was coming down the stairs looking better than she had the last time he saw her in the kitchen. She was now dressed in a yellow and white striped sundress and the leftover evidence of her baking frenzy were no longer in her hair and on her face.

"Not exactly," Harry sheepishly replied, just as another soft knock came on the door behind him.

"Who's here, Harry?" The red-headed witch narrowed her eyes at her son and shooed him away from the door.

"Erm…"

"Narcissa!" Lily exclaimed, opening the door and seeing the two Malfoys still waiting outside… on the half broken stoop surrounded by the dilapidated houses all around them. "Come in, please."

She moved aside to allow the two most aristocratic people in wizarding Britain into their home, giving him a pointed glare as they entered.

"Thank you, Lily," the Malfoy matriarch greeted. "Hello, Harry."

"Hi," Harry felt his face start to flush as the four of them stood in the tiny entryway.

"Is everything alright?" Lily asked, confused. Harry had to admit that she was handling the odd intrusion better than he was.

Draco stood a half step behind his mother looking around with a satisfied expression, like he was surprised the inside of their home could be so much brighter and welcoming than the entire rest of the town. Just as they made eye contact, Severus came into the already cramped room.

"Harry, is lunch-" the Potions Master started, but paused when he saw the unexpected visitors with his wife and son. Harry noticed him immediately go on alert before he asked, "What's going on?"

"You were having lunch?" Narcissa placed her dainty hand over her heart as she asked. "We can come back another time."

"Nonsense," Lily responded, sounding completely offended. "Would you care to stay for lunch? We have takeaway Chinese on its way and Harry always orders enough for days of leftovers."

Harry narrowed his eyes at his mother knowing she had every intention of multiplying the food that was on its way. "Seriously, I always order way too much, especially since Severus hates Chinese food so much."

He threw that last statement in to provide some comedic relief, but it didn't seem to help at all.

"We hate to impose," Narcissa explained. Harry was internally debating if she was just being polite or if she really didn't want to be there. Suddenly, he had this urge to know if Draco could eat with chopsticks and getting them to stay for lunch became the highlight of his day.

"It's nothing," his mum insisted. And then, as if they needed anything else going on, there was another knock at the door that was definitely their lunch this time. "Harry, take Narcissa and Draco into the kitchen while Severus and I get the food."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes - knowing it was not acceptable in the current company - he instead sighed and handed the muggle notes to Severus, then gestured for the Malfoy mother and son to follow him the short distance to the kitchen so his parents could make sure there was enough food for five rather than three.

"This is a lovely home you have," Narcissa commented as they passed through the sitting room and into the kitchen.

Harry thought she sounded genuine, however he wasn't sure how someone living in a palace like Malfoy Manor could then turn around and say this semi-attached house was "lovely". Concluding it was probably part of her formal etiquette - while noticing that Draco had yet to say a word - he replied with a mumbled "thanks" and led them into the kitchen.

Even before the recent baking additions from this morning, Harry knew they wouldn't all fit at their three person table, but he still started collecting the baskets of biscuits and bread, relocating them to the countertop, to make as much room as possible.

"Like baking much, Potter?" Draco finally spoke up. He was looking around the room with a face that was somewhere between impressed and disgusted.

"It was a…" the Gryffindor paused thinking back on his mum's breakdown over the upcoming war; he definitely couldn't tell the Malfoys about it so he lamely went with, "... long story. But help yourself, we have enough to feed the neighborhood."

"What a great idea," he cringed when he heard Severus's sarcastic voice from behind him. He approached Harry with his hands full of takeaway bags and a smug expression upon his face, "Why don't you bring some over to Mrs Figg after lunch?"

Harry groaned at the task he'd just been assigned, all because he was answering Draco in the most innocent way possible. The Figg's moved into the house at the other end of the row that Harry's house was attached to right around Christmas time after Harry started at Hogwarts. They were an elderly couple - which in itself was kind of out of place for the rundown area - and as far as Harry knew they never had any children; just a lot of cats. This past year, Mr Figg was diagnosed with a muggle disease Harry wasn't familiar with and passed away suddenly last spring, leaving Mrs Figg alone with her cats. Since then, his mum had taken it upon herself to help out whenever possible. Severus getting involved now was simply his way of telling Harry he was walking on thin ice because he knew Harry's feelings about the "creepy cat lady".

Since there wasn't enough room for them all to eat in the kitchen - which Harry had already known - the two younger wizards were banished to the sitting room with their plates of food.

The Gryffindor would never admit it, but besides his bedroom the sitting was his favorite place in the house. All four walls were lined with bookshelves full of both wizarding and muggle books - most of which Harry either wasn't permitted to read or wasn't interested in - but each one had a shelf or two where appropriately aged texts would swap out, making sure he always had something relevant for him to read from. It was obviously charmed - he learned early on in his life that Charms to his mum was like Potions to Severus, and ironically he didn't excel at either of those - to make the changes, but he imagined there had to be a place within the house for the charms to pull the books from. And that strange idea was what kept him coming back; the idea that his mum, or maybe even Severus, was always looking for books that he would like to add to "the collection". The room itself wasn't as bright as the other rooms after his mum's redesign, which had to do with the bookcases dominating the space and bringing in the original dark wooden features before they moved in. The space was only big enough for a plush sofa, which was deep maroon in color, making the room look both smaller and out of sync with the house, with a long table placed in front of it and a fireplace - connected to the floo network - sat in the right wall. Harry had always assumed this room was more or less untouched from when Severus lived here alone; before he moved into their Godric's Hollow home for the first year after marrying Lily. The only part of the sitting room with his mother's touch was a couple shelves in the bookcases that had been cleared off and replaced with pictures of their family throughout the years and trinkets that were sentimental to his mother; like the shells they collected from their first beach holiday, a bouquet of flowers Harry picked when he was younger set with a charm to keep them everlasting, and Harry's letter from Hogwarts proudly on display as if she were afraid he wouldn't have gotten into the school.

The two teenage wizards sat in mostly silence while eating their respective lunches. To his surprise, Draco did, in fact, know how to use chopsticks, but did hesitate with a look of pure disgust when presented with his takeaway cuisine. Did the Malfoys ever order takeaway food from their mansion? Or would the fact that all their meals were made by a waitstaff negate the need for takeaway?

His answer came almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind when the blonde beside him stared at his plate and said, "Did this seriously come from a box?"

The Gryffindor paused, the noodles dangling from his wooden chopsticks halfway to his mouth, "That is kind of how takeaway works."

"And is it always this-" Draco trailed off examining his food like it was about to walk off his plate. "-stale?"

"Erm," Harry furrowed his brows, "I guess-"

"I mean," the Malfoy heir interrupted, not at all interested in hearing Harry's explanation, "Severus makes a decent living. Your mum's getting survivor benefits from your dad's passing, so why are you eating Azkaban food?"

Something about the insult frayed Harry's last nerve and to get away from the topic he aggressively asked, "What are you even doing here?"

"Right now, I'm supposedly eating some kind of Asian noodles with pine, of all things, chopsticks," the Malfoy heir replied, sarcastically.

"Don't be a prat," Harry responded, "you know what I mean. How did you get here?"

"Well for one, my father has the addresses for every Ministry employee," he said as if it were completely logical to go to a private directory for his own personal use.

"Of course," the Gryffindor shook his head, "so then why are you here?"

Draco placed his chopsticks down in a neat and tidy manner across his half eaten plate of noodles and rice, "There was a lot that happened last night… and I… wanted to make sure you were… alright."

The last word was mumbled so low, Harry wasn't quite sure he'd heard correctly, "Were you worried about us?"

"I wouldn't go that far," there was a conflict in his eyes that matched the unsteadiness in his voice. "It's just, we were swept off to 'a safe location' and you guys were left there. You didn't even have your wands! That's… unfair."

"Your father's the Minister for Magic," Harry logically answered, and a little confused; he would have thought the Slytherin would be thrilled to be guaranteed safety in a situation like last night's. "Did you think they'd just leave you guys vulnerable?"

"Well… no," the blonde shook his head, "but how fair is it that my father got whisked away when the people he's supposed to be protecting were left to die?"

It made sense, nonetheless Harry also knew how important it was to protect their leaders. "We weren't actually in any danger. At least not from anything inside the manor. Not to mention, life isn't always fair."

"No, I guess it's not," the other wizard's replied. "So what happened after we left? The last I heard was a lot of screaming."

"Did you see the lights go out?"

Draco's grey eyes widened giving away his answer before he shook his head.

"That was probably the screaming you heard," Harry continued, "people were going crazy. But eventually the aurors took everyone out in groups to disapparate. It wasn't a big deal."

Neither teenager called out the blatant lie Harry had just told. They both knew it was a big deal; that kind of reaction wouldn't happen over anything but a 'big deal'. However, talking about it would only make the situation all the more real, and so Harry didn't offer any other information, and Draco didn't ask. Somehow Harry knew if they discussed their own unique viewpoint on the war, or the attack at the Ministry - even though Harry was desperate for information and knew the Malfoy heir likely had it - it would bring forth a new set of an anxiety and righteousness he wasn't prepared to deal with at that moment. Therefore, they once again found themselves in this neutral zone that neither had really expected nor had they even tried to get there, and decided Quidditch was really the only thing they could safely talk about to pass the awkward lunchtime without causing too much disturbance to that neutral zone.

"Harry," his mum called him in from the kitchen.

"Yes, mum?" He asked, already anticipating what his mother was going to request from him, knowing he couldn't refuse with Narcissa present. Sometimes Harry thought living with a Slytherin like Severus for so long had a bad influence on her.

"Take these down to Mrs Figg, would you, please?" In her hands was a basket - enlarged to have the extension charm removed - filled to the brim with different biscuits, cakes, and bread. It was far more than a woman like Mrs Figg could actually eat, yet he knew saying so wouldn't get him out of the task; it would only make him look bad in front of the Minister's wife. And doing so before his stepfather was going to ask about his military registration wasn't exactly the best idea.

Great, Harry thought to himself, now I'm starting to think like a Slytherin.

He considered arguing that Mrs Figg would probably want to see her instead - as a way to make himself feel just a little more in control - but one look past his mother over to Severus told him this wasn't the time to cause issues. If Severus had asked him, he wouldn't have thought twice; he just couldn't cause anymore despair to his mum.

"Sure thing, mum," he answered obediently, taking the basket of treats. "I'll go get my trainers on and head over there now."

He'd almost made it to the door. In fact, had he moved just a touch faster he could have claimed he didn't hear the latest instruction, from the last person he wanted to take orders from: Narcissa Malfoy.

"Draco will go with you," the Malfoy matriarch said, "it'll do him good to get out for a little bit."

Groaning quietly, so the adults wouldn't hear him, he simply muttered, "Come on, Draco," and stalked out of the kitchen to visit his elderly muggle neighbor.

"You know, this place might have had some kind of potential if anyone cared enough to keep it from completely deteriorating," Draco announced when they walked outside. "Seriously, you have this large winding river, which is the foundation to any town worthwhile, and it's absolutely filthy."

The Gryffindor knew it was a losing battle to try and defend his hometown - not to mention he shared the same viewpoint with the other wizard - but he was filled up with the need to explain something about why Cokeworth appeared the way it did.

"This was a milling town," the raven-haired wizard started explaining while pointing to the crumbling mill on the horizon, "and pretty much everyone living here worked, in some capacity, for the mill. So when it closed, everyone lost their jobs. Those fortunate enough to find more work moved out quickly, but those who didn't had no choice but to stay. And without the mill bringing in money to the town, there wasn't any to do things like repair the infrastructure."

He tried not to be embarrassed, but it was hard when he was standing next to someone like Draco Malfoy explaining why the town he lived in was so broken. Giving the prim and proper wizard a quick once-over, Harry quickly realized that they couldn't continue to the other side of the row with him looking as he did. While the Slytherin had been dressed in muggle-appropriate clothing, it was leaps and bounds from what the average household in Cokeworth could afford. In fact, in his black suit and tie, Mrs Figg was more likely to think the blonde was from a local church than simply delivering a basket of biscuits from the Snape Family.

"You should take your tie off," the Gryffindor nervously suggested, peering at Draco from the corner of his eye.

"Why would I do that?" He was offended, Harry could tell by the cold tone of his voice. "Just because you choose to dress like a waif when hiding in the muggle world doesn't mean I have to."

Harry quickly thrusted his arm out, stopping Draco in his tracks only three doors away from Mrs Figg's house. His emerald eyes met Draco's and for once there wasn't any animosity found from the words he'd said. Rather there was fear inside of them and the raven-haired wizard wasn't sure if it was fear of being in a fully muggle community or fear of the type of muggle community they were in. Cokeworth might not be much - and even that was being too kind - but for Harry it was his home; even if he didn't always feel like he belonged in his family.

"I dress to fit in this neighborhood," Harry clarified, thinking of Hermione's letter about the muggle drugs and the type of people who used them. "Your outfit screams that you don't belong here and if you show up at Mrs Figg's door looking like that, you're going to terrify her. Not to mention what anyone walking by will think."

"Because of my tie?" Harry was sure if it were considered proper form to roll one's eyes, the Malfoy heir would have done so by now.

"Because you look like you don't belong here," Harry was already tired of this conversation, "and Mrs Figg is just a nice old lady who wants to live her life as uncomplicated as possible."

Refusing to budge until Draco conceded, Harry lifted his eyebrows in a move he'd seen Severus do too many times, yet he knew he didn't pull it off nearly as well as his stepfather.

"Fine!" Draco eventually agreed and aggressively took his black suit coat off - handing it to Harry after giving the Gryffindor a good once over - and pulled off his tie. With both articles of clothing now nestled over his forearm, he lifted his hands and said, "Better, your highness?"

"Much."

The rest of the trip to the other end of Harry's row was in silence. Like all the attached houses on Spinner's End, Mrs Figg's had a small window in the front that looked into the kitchen. Unlike most of the houses on Spinner's End, almost every time Harry passed by the window, she was looking out of it. For the longest time, Harry thought maybe she knew when he left his own house and was spying on him - admittedly, this was when the young wizard was in his own peak of paranoia over the Ministry's control of their lives - but the more he watched the older woman, and especially after he heard of her husband's passing, the more he realized she was simply looking for someway to pass the time in this deserted town. That had Harry wondering if she saw what had been going on with Chris and the two men last week; they weren't far from the back of her house after all and if she was so keen on watching the comings and goings from the front of her house, perhaps she did the same towards the river. If that were true, there was a distinct possibility that the woman had seen Harry's pseudo-involvement that day. He made a mental note to keep track of the elder's windows on the river facing side, and listen for any sign that she mentioned something about it to his parents; especially his mum since she liked to spend time with her.

"This one?" Draco asked with his face contorted in disgust because it was obvious from the outside that Mrs Figg's home was in worse condition than Harry's. "Seriously, who would choose to live here?"

Harry didn't validate that with a response, he just ignored the Malfoy heir - whose plentiful staff probably lived in better quarters than the Snape family did - and walked up to the door; not even caring if Draco followed him or stayed on the broken sidewalk.

As expected, Mrs Figg answered the door a second after the young wizard knocked, meaning she had likely seen them approaching from her window.

"Harry, dear," Mrs Figg answered in her soft, crackled voice. One of the cats - Harry could never keep them straight, but this was one of the tabbys - ran from the door and immediately started circling his ankles. From his peripheral vision, he saw Draco startle at the small pet's appearance, and he chuckled a bit at the odd response. "What brings you by on this lovely day? And who is this you've brought with?"

"Erm," he started with, turning towards the Slytherin standing behind him, to give himself more time to come up with a logical lie. He turned back to the elderly muggle, where he held out the basket of treats for her, "my mum was baking this morning and made some extra for you."

"How very kind of Lily," Mrs Figg replied, taking the basket of treats. "Please, come in. I have something for your mother."

Harry turned back to Draco, who's eyebrows shot up into the air at the offer to enter her home and slowly shook his head back and forth. Weighing his options, Harry gestured for Draco to follow him inside; it wasn't like he could leave the Minister's son out on the front stoop on Spinner's End - of all places - even if this was a muggle town who wouldn't know Draco as such an important figure.

"I'm sorry," Mrs Figg said once they'd entered the same tiny entryway as Harry's house. If the young wizard had to guess, the interior of the Figg's home was closer to what the original house had looked like when it was built and probably what Severus's did before his mum got in there and put her own touch - with magic, no doubt - to it. "I didn't catch your friend's name."

The way she said it made Harry instantly on alert. He hadn't mentioned a thing about Draco, and therefore she wouldn't have known his name. It could have been some of Severus's own paranoia rubbing off on the Gryffindor, or had to do with this morning's news of the war, but suddenly his instincts told him he shouldn't let her know his real name; besides how unique it would sound to a muggle.

"Sorry about that," Harry confidently replied, "this is Thomas. He's a friend from my school who was visiting for lunch."

Mrs Figg smiled at him and again, it made the Gryffindor uncomfortable, "A friend of Harry's is a friend of mine. Come in, come in."

She led them through the small entryway to the sitting room, telling them she'd be right back, and then continued on into the kitchen; most likely to put the basket of biscuits in the kitchen. Draco, still with disgust planted on his face, looked around the room that was far emptier than the similar room they had just eaten in at Harry's house.

"How well do you know her?" Draco asked, leaning in close to Harry's ear in a move he'd seen done a countless number of times at the gala when high ranking officials didn't want their conversions overheard.

"She's lived here for almost five years," Harry whispered back, "my parents used to ask her to watch me when they went out, but it's been years since they needed to do that. Why?"

The blonde frowned and shook his head, just as Mrs Figg reentered the sitting room.

"Your mother is one of the kindest people I know," she said, waving her pointer finger at him like she was lecturing him over something bad he'd done.

Harry couldn't help smiling at the compliment to his mum. Since she had been unable to find work that Severus was comfortable with her taking - as a security measure, of course - she'd taken on several volunteer roles with Narcissa throughout the years to fill her time, especially now that Harry lived at Hogwarts most of the year. This had earned her quite the reputation throughout the neighborhood. Most of it was positive - about her kind nature - but since many of the residents in the neighborhood couldn't live off a single income like they were, not everything said was so good and he'd heard some really awful things about her said behind her back when people thought he wasn't listening. It hurt him inside when he heard those things because his mum was doing the best she could given the situation she'd been placed in, and they had no room to judge her for it.

Without any other words to the pair of wizards, Mrs Figg walked to an old rickety desk tucked away in the corner and started rummaging through it. She was murmuring things like "it was right here the other day" and "give me just another minute". Beside him, Draco was nervously patting his hands on the sides of his expensive black trousers and giving the Gryffindor a look that said he was ready to leave the moment they had entered her home.

"Here we are," the muggle exclaimed. When she turned around, in her hand was a book; a cookbook to be exact. She held it out to him and said, "your mother lent this to me last month. I've copied down my favorites and I'd hate for her to be missing one of her books."

At this, Draco gave a hard chuckle and Harry did the unthinkable - at least if they had been back at school - and elbowed him in the side.

"Of course, Mrs Figg," Harry politely replied, "I'm sure she'll be happy to hear you enjoyed them."

"Tell her the beef stew was my new favorite," she tapped the book with her wrinkled hand, and gave him a warm smile before walking them back to the door where she bid them farewell.

The second the door closed, Draco turned to Harry and exclaimed, "What the bloody hell was that?!"

Unable to contain his laughter, the Gryffindor simply shook his head at the ridiculous declaration and continued on walking home.

They were almost back to the other side of the row when Harry was stopped by Draco's arm reaching out; similar to Harry's own on their way to Mrs Figg's house.

"Are you sure she's a-" Draco looked around and lowered his voice, leaning in as he did back at Mrs Figg's sitting room, "-a muggle?"

"Why would you think she wasn't?" Harry asked, equally intrigued as he was amused. Everything about that encounter was so muggle, he could feel the wariness radiating from the Malfoy heir the moment he knocked on the door. Now to hear the blonde asking such a question was almost too much for his overwhelmed mind.

"Just a feeling I guess," Draco replied. "And she kept looking at my arm-" to make a point, he patted his left forearm, "- where I keep my wand holstered."

"You're as paranoid as Severus," Harry responded, "I think you were so uncomfortable with that whole encounter, your brain is making up things to worry about."

"I don't think so," Draco thoughtfully replied.

Harry never thought twice about Draco's observation or his accusation that Mrs Figg was somehow magical. It had to be nonsense since the young Gryffindor had seen her dozens upon dozens of times over the years and never had she done or said a single magical thing. He didn't think about it again, not even when he gave the borrowed cookbook back to his mother, who laughed saying she had never lent it to Mrs Figg; that elderly lady must have gotten it from someone else, and it had simply slipped her mind.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus's outlook Sunday night as he was getting ready for bed wasn't much better than it had been most of the day. He'd stayed as strong as he could for Lily's sake and sat through the ridiculous lunch with Narcissa to help calm his wife's fraying nerves. He knew she was worried about Harry's - as well as his own - involvement in the war against the Muggles, but Severus had a whole separate set of concerns regarding their son.

That night he was sitting in the lavatory with the shower running to help hide his true purpose for this clandestine trip. He had found it last night after returning home and getting ready for bed. There was a letter in the pockets of his dress robes that he knew, without a doubt, had not been there most of the night. He'd only had enough time to scan the parchment with a wide variety of charms to be sure there weren't any hidden curses before Lily had come to bed, and had every intention of reading it first thing this morning. That was before the Daily Prophet article outlining the fate of their barely sixteen year old son, and before she connected the dots - as Harry had - that his role with the Death Eaters was now far from over. Just the thought of his Dark Mark burning again was enough to make him cringe. If only he could exchange his servitude for Harry's, but he was a year past the ages they were requiring for service; they'd indiscriminately deemed him "too old" for the level of military work they might need Harry for. However, he had no doubt that the Death Eaters would ask for his service, in some capacity, and sooner rather than later and the anxiety over when the summons would come left a heavy anxiety in the air.

Turning his attention back to the tied parchment he now held between his hands, Severus knew exactly who this was from and opening it would open a Pandora's box he wasn't sure he was prepared for. There were only two times someone - Nymphadora Tonks being the leading suspect - could have placed this missive into his robes and it was when the lights had gone out at the gala or when she accidentally tripped into him on the walk to the disapparation point. If he were a betting man, he would place his galleons on the former, as the Hufflepuff auror was too naturally clumsy to pull off an exchange on the walk. Suddenly, Arthur's seemingly random run-in at Madam Malkin's to try to recruit him back to the Order wasn't looking so random after all. The radical organization was getting desperate and with desperation came mistakes; sometimes fatal ones and almost always to the people who least deserve it. That left him suspicious about what could have possibly been discussed between the two Gryffindors inside the shop while he was berating the Weasley patriarch about putting his family in danger to join the group himself. Under Voldemort's regime, Albus Dumbledore couldn't - nor anyone else besides maybe Merlin himself - guarantee enough safety for his followers and Severus wasn't shy telling the man that his priorities were in the wrong place.

Opening the parchment confirmed what he had already suspected. Staring back at him was the headmaster's neat script he was so used to seeing back at school.

You've forgotten a box in your classroom, please stop by Monday morning to collect it.

The missive was short and to the point; innocent enough should it fall into the wrong hands, but the message to him was loud and clear: be at the Headmaster's office Monday morning, there was Order business to discuss.

"Sev?" Lily called from the other side of the lavatory door "Are you alright? You've been a while in there."

"Yes, I'm alright," he answered, trying his hardest to keep his voice from wavering from the lie he told. "I'll be right out."

He didn't know Lily had left until he exited the lavatory - looking around the short corridor for her presence - a minute later and she was no longer standing there, likely having gone off to bed and was waiting for him.

"Everything alright?"

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't dare be taken off guard by Harry as he was, and the narrowed emerald eyes looking back at him told him the Gryffindor recognized it too. Tonight was an exception to every rule and he found himself practically jumping from his skin at the unexpected question.

"It's fine," Severus replied more coldly to his son than he'd wanted to, especially given the decent conversations they managed to have today when he was doing whatever he could to ease Harry's own uncertainty about the upcoming war.

"Whatever," Harry shook his head, then pointing to the room behind the professor, asked, "Can I get ready for bed now?"

"Of course," he replied, collecting the missive he'd dropped onto the floor in his surprise. He had no one to blame but himself for Harry's cold shoulder; he'd broken their small fragile truce for the day.

The Potions Master made his way back to his bedroom where Lily had already turned down the bed and was sketching while waiting for him to return. This was his favorite part of the day, when he closed the door to their bedroom and blocked out all of the stresses that were constantly pulling him in different directions. This was the time he could get into bed with his wife - a fact he still cherished to this day, even if he was her second choice - and pretend there was no war on the horizon, no Ministry-mandated regulations for his classes waiting for him at his desk, no Order of the Phoenix, and no prophecy always sitting in the recesses of his mind, causing him to always question if the other shoe would ever drop.

"Finally," she greeted him with a smile as he climbed into bed and wrapped her in his strong arms, "I was getting worried about you."

"It was nothing," he answered, "I forgot I have to go back to the school in the morning before work, and I got lost in my thoughts about it."

Lily pulled away from him, her eyes full of questions he couldn't answer, at least not honestly. "Why do you have to go back? Isn't the school shut down already?"

She would remember that small fact. Even if he - or any of the other professors - wanted to stay at the castle over the summer, it was strictly prohibited. Only the headmaster, with approval from the Ministry - usually granted only for maintenance purposes - was allowed back on the school grounds before mid-August. Albus was taking a big risk by using the school as a meeting place for Order business, nevertheless if maintenance was previously scheduled and he were able to secure a set of objects for Severus to pick up, it would make a decent enough cover for them.

"I apparently left a box in my classroom," he casually explained. "I cleaned it out before we had dinner with the Malfoys. I was bound to leave something behind working so quickly."

"Don't blame it on dinner with the Malfoys," she shook her head slightly both in a flirtatious way and concerned way, "that was the day you were up all night. Don't think I don't know when you can't sleep."

As always, she was right. It had been the day after his horrific nightmare about James's death; a night he would give anything to forget, but not even the most extensive memory charm - he shuddered at the thought - would be enough. And while his wife was observant enough to know not only when he was up most of the night, but to keep track of those days, she completely missed the lie about needing to go back to Hogwarts. He couldn't blame her though; a wife shouldn't be expecting her husband to lie so blatantly to her face.

"That was the day," he conceded, because it only aided in his ruse that he was indeed picking up a box of orphaned personal supplies. "Albus sent me a missive on Friday about it and I had completely forgotten until I was in the shower."

"Would have been nicer if he'd just sent it back to you," she admonished. "I don't see why you have to go through all the trouble of going there before work when he could have sent it through the floo."

He leaned over and gave Lily a soft kiss on her lips, mostly as a way to draw attention away from his own guilt over her reaction in his defense. It was complicated, but with any luck after tomorrow morning all of this nonsense with the Order would cease and he could go about his way doing what he thought was needed to keep his son safe.

He was fast asleep in his bed when the nightmare hit for the second time in as many weeks:

"Don't do it, James," Severus called out to his Death Eater partner, knowing what he was suggesting was basically suicide.

"Well, I have to try," James exasperatedly replied.

"No, you don't," the dark-haired wizard warned. "Think of Lily and Harry, what will happen to them?"

Severus bolted upright in his bed, his body covered in sweat. Rarely did he dream of that night so close together and it was concerning to him. The combination of his racing adrenaline, disorientation, and remembering what happened that awful night had him running to the loo where he sicked up whatever had been left in his stomach since dinner.

Like everything else in the Wizarding World, visiting Hogwarts over the summer was far more complicated than it should have been. During the school year, the floo at Spinner's End was directly connected to the floo in his office attached to his Potions classroom, however at the end of term those connections were closed. This forced anyone - besides the Minister and Lord Voldemort himself - visiting the school to enter from Hogsmeade by the public floo in the Three Broomsticks; much to Madam Rosmerta's displeasure because while it increased traffic to her establishment, most of the visitors were simply passing through. Similar to Diagon Alley, each person entering the wizarding village through the floo needed to be scanned and go through security, something that was bound to become infinitely more difficult as restrictions were placed due to the upcoming war.

From Hogsmeade, Severus took the pathway leading up to Hogwarts where he went through yet another set of security screenings. This tedious process was why he was grateful to have his floo connected to his office, otherwise going through this every single morning when he returned to teach would have most likely led him to quitting in his first year; even he had his limits. For the summer, though, the Ministry had to track everyone entering and leaving the premises and being a professor at the damn school - not to mention part of the Department of Magical Education - didn't grant him any leniency in the security measures.

"Back so soon, Professor?" The security guard, Gabe, asked as he approached the gates. Gabe Asp was a Slytherin who finished at Hogwarts five years ago and signed up immediately for the Magical Military Corps. Severus always wondered how the young wizard ended up in security detail, assuming this wasn't what he signed up for, but never bothered asking.

Handing his ebony wand over to the other wizard, Severus simply answered, "I've apparently left a box in my classroom. I'm in a bit of a hurry as I'm needed at the Ministry."

"Of course, Professor," the guard replied. As expected, a piece of parchment popped up from above his wand with a description of his request to enter the premises; it was the only way to gain access to the castle over the summer, after all. "Looks like the box is waiting for you in the headmaster's office. You'd think he'd just leave it in your classroom, would be a quicker walk for you, anyway."

Severus frustratingly shook his head, "That's Albus Dumbledore. No one know what that senile old man thinks."

Gabe gave a good laugh, told him the password was Cockroach Clusters, and waved the Potions Master through. His trip would be timed - the check in compared to check out time - and in the long walk up to the school, Severus could only hope that whatever it was the headmaster wanted to discuss was done quickly. Picking up a box of left belongings wouldn't require an hour's visit and it would draw unwanted attention to him.

"Severus," Albus greeted the dark-haired professor a half second after the door opened and motioned to the chair before his desk, "please take a seat."

"I don't have all day, Albus," he responded coldly with his arms folded across his chest refusing the offered seat, but still approaching the desk where the elderly wizard was seated. "I'm needed at the Ministry, and I have no doubt you know why, so get whatever it is you need to ask me off your chest so we can both get on our way."

"I imagine there are a lot of changes coming to the upcoming school year," it wasn't a question, they were both intimately aware that this upcoming year would be anything but typical. Unfortunately, until Severus could actually get to the Ministry and sort through the orders on this desk, he could only guess how different it would be. "I was hoping you'd reconsider your… unique… position for us."

There it was; the leader of the most radical resistance group against the Ministry and Lord Voldemort asking him to reclaim his role. He'd expected it, of course, but he didn't think it would be this early in the process.

"No, Albus," he gave his answer without a single hesitation. "You know why I can't, and frankly, I'm surprised you even risked asking."

"They'll send him into this war without a second thought as to who he is. I've seen his scores, Severus, and as a Halfblood he won't get the same concessions as Draco Malfoy or any of the Purebloods with his level of wand work," Albus replied, narrowing his bright blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles, "We can protect him-"

"You don't fool me! You're going to use him," Severus challenged back, the anger dripping from his dark, menacing voice, before the headmaster could get another word in. "He's not some pawn in whatever game you think you're playing!"

"It's interesting should you say that, Severus," the older wizard inquisitively said, with a twinkle in his eyes that made the younger wizard uncomfortable, "tell me, what would make you think that we would want to use your son?"

The professor sat staring at the man who had almost been a mentor to him. In another lifetime, had things gone differently and he hadn't needed to immediately cut all ties, who knew where they would have ended up. Right now though, in the current environment facing them, the leader of the Order had presented him with a challenge, one he couldn't validate without going down a road he didn't want to go down, least of all with Albus Dumbledore. He knew the Order had suspected James's defection from them to the Death Eaters was in an effort to prevent Harry from being subjected to the prophecy - something that, by all appearances, he'd completely put to rest when he died protecting the Dark Lord - but Severus had never returned to the Order after the night the Ministry fell; instead choosing to return to Lord Voldemort's side. There was no possibility that Albus knew what he had done that night, and yet his eyes showed a truth behind them that Severus couldn't deny.

"Do you really think Lily will be alright with the idea of sending her only child into a war against the Muggles?" The headmaster asked, trying to approach the offer from a different angle. "If presented with another… option-"

Severus interrupted Albus's bold statement by slamming his fist onto the desk in front of him as he leaned over ominously towards his employer, "Don't even think of approaching her. Your war is no different than theirs and if you think it is, then you're more delusional than ever! You've lost, Albus. It's time to give up, move on and help prepare your students for the reality facing them. That's how you can make a difference, not by imagining some utopian society that has long since fallen."

"James Potter didn't think like that, no matter what Lord Voldemort and most of the wizarding world believes," Albus stood to face his Potions Master eye-to-eye, "and young Harry doesn't either, it's not who he is. How long do you suppose you can keep pushing him into a life he doesn't believe in? He won't go quietly, Severus, that much is evident to anyone who's met him. Why do you think Lucius has made arrangements for Harry's internship? To keep a close eye on the wizard who threatens their regime."

He couldn't help it, Severus sucked in a shallow breath at the mention of Harry's internship which Albus had no reason to know of; a strategic ploy to tell the professor just how far the Order's reach into the Ministry had become.

"Sounds to me you don't need my assistance," Severus turned to leave, but the door behind him was automatically closed.

"We're not done here," Albus challenged.

"You knew about the Muggle War coming up," he turned to face the headmaster who had walked halfway through the room to meet the Potions Master, "and you know about Harry's internship. You don't need a spy, even if I were willing to rejoin, you apparently already have one… fairly deep undercover if I had to guess. So why bother with all of this?"

Severus swept his hands around the room, his eyes full of anger both for the implications he'd heard from the man in front of him as well as having his time wasted.

"Lord Voldemort is overconfident," the other wizard said, "he thinks he has the support necessary to wage war and free the Wizarding World, but he's missing the one piece he can never understand: love. And when he demands to the parents that their children now be forced from their war-supplying classes to brandish wands against Muggle weapons on the front lines, they'll look for other options. And suddenly, the Muggleborns he'd once blamed for all their threats and hardships won't look so threatening after all."

As moving of a speech as it was, it didn't do anything to alter his decision. The Snape Family would be staying as far away from the Order of the Phoenix as possible.

"You better leave my family the hell alone," he growled a warning at the man across from him. "We're done here."

He was only half expecting the door to open when he reached for the knob - assuming that Albus wouldn't take "no" for an answer - and was pleased when it did, allowing him to stalk from the office. It hadn't been a total waste of his time; if nothing else, he confirmed that the Order was potentially larger reaching than he had originally assumed. This meant the wizarding world as a whole would be further divided than ever before and if he didn't get some semblance of control, his family would be first to be torn apart. Just as he was exiting the castle, on his way back to check out at security, a box appeared on the last step in front of him filled to the brim with random texts, empty phials, and old exams; things that the headmaster had found laying around his classroom that could be deemed "forgotten". Picking up the box to carry with him - because what kind of excuse was coming to the castle to retrieve forgotten things only to leave empty handed - he looked up at the turrets that held the headmaster's office knowing that the meddling man wouldn't leave him or his family in peace on his demand alone.

The mountain of paperwork on Severus's desk for his review far exceeded his expectations. It seemed like the Ministry - Lucius, the Dark Lord, or both - already had a good idea of what they wanted the "new Hogwarts curriculum" to look like in regards to the war and we're only interested in his signature to completely unravel his classes and reconfigure them for the war effort. The whole Ministry was pure chaos with missives flying throughout the air going to and from different departments, and the DME was no exception. The normally quiet office was ringing as witches and wizards spoke over one another about which level courses were changing and how students within those courses would be divided.

As potions was his primary position within the DME, it was obviously the first set of petitions he started reviewing. Nevertheless, his interest wasn't in what types of potions Lucius wanted mass produced by the N.E.W.T students, it was in his consultant position for the Dark Arts and how that course would change. When he was a student at Hogwarts - and for as long as he knew the history of the school - the course taught was Defense Against the Dark Arts and it had been aimed to equip students with the basic level of Defense needed should they come face to face with danger. That course was the first to change under Lord Voldemort's regime and was replaced with the Dark Arts; teaching kids both offensive and - despite some hefty lobbying - defensive tactics. After hearing Albus's declaration that Harry's scores would impact what position he ended up in should he still be required to register, he decided to read the basics of his Potions documents before turning to Thorfinn Rowle, his fellow Death Eater and the wizard running the Dark Arts which he only consulted on. He never really knew which side of the fence Thorfinn sat because working for the DME as a Death Eater - and not a professor - had always struck him as odd. Knowing that the Order had a high ranking spy within the Ministry only caused him to further question the other wizard's alliance.

"Are the changes you're seeing in DA as extensive as Potions?" He casually asked the desk across from his own, while holding up the file he had just glanced over.

Thorfinn lifted his hands in frustration. "It's all over the place. The biggest change is obviously in the sixth and seventh years, but I swear they over complicated the whole thing hoping we'd just blindly approve it." He tossed the file across to Severus's desk and said, "Let me know what you make of this."

Getting a hold of the file was far easier than he'd expected. Most of the summer Thorfinn didn't really have to do much in the way of work since the Dark Lord set the curriculum back when he took power. Until now it was more or less simply a matter of reviewing the incoming students to make sure they fit the requirements to take the course, which included no Muggleborns - they had a separate course on Defense Against Dark Creatures instead - and Halfbloods needed to pass a practical examination over the summer. Once students took their O.W.L.S, it was simply did they pass with an O or E; both of which could take the N.E.W.T. level course.

As Thorfinn alluded to, the fifth year curriculum wasn't changing too much, as the students would still be preparing for the O.W.L.s. but Severus was concerned these students would have no idea what was in store for them the following year - after taking a quick peek at the sixth year changes - so he grabbed a red ink well and noted such on the document. He didn't care if they wanted a blind approval; they sure as bloody hell weren't getting one.

The sixth year changes were obviously Severus's main concern seeing as there was no doubt in his mind Harry had gotten at least an E on his O.W.L. While the Gryffindor resisted the offensive part of the course on principle, he had a natural talent in the subject as a whole and had some of the best wand work - easily picking up the spells and the speed of which he responded with them - he'd seen in years. Per the petition, the sixth years would be split based on a combination of their O.W.L. results and their blood purity status. Under the new guidelines, all students who received an O and were Purebloods would be moved into a course specifically geared towards future officer training - the wording was a bit more esoteric about the specifics outlined in a separate addendum, but the main idea was still there - as they were considered the top ranking students. The second category, consisting of Purebloods with E marks, was titled as "non-combatant support training" and would focus solely on defensive spells with the idea that these students would eventually lead into supportive roles such as trainers, curse breakers, or logistics and likely wouldn't see battle. That left the bottom two levels as infantry training for the Halfbloods. Those with an Outstanding mark - where Severus was expecting Harry to fall - would split their time between higher level infantry training with a focus between offensive and defensive spells and officer training under the guise that they would be considered "leaders" or Junior Officers in battle. The last group, and absolutely not where the Potions Master wanted his son, were Halfbloods with Exceeds Expectations and they would be focused solely on offensive training with a touch of defense. These were the students being trained for the front lines against the muggles.

The seventh years, which Severus briefly scanned through, would basically get a crash course in the same structure as the sixth years, but under the full intention they would go to the military units after their year was completed. What concerned him the most was the small footnote at the bottom of the last page of the file where it stated that at anytime, a selection of N.E.W.T students could be conscripted - or called for service - at the discretion of the Minister or the Commander General, Lord Voldemort. It was unlikely to happen, he could rationally understand that, however it didn't mean it couldn't happen and he knew from his Death Eater days how unstable the Dark Lord could be; it wouldn't take much for him to pull that trigger. This would give him two separate ways to call in students for service - the Compulsory Registry and the Dark Arts classes.

"Well?" Thorfinn asked, drawing his attention back to the present where every single set of eyes were upon him.

"You're going to need to go through it with a fine tooth comb," he tossed the file back to the other Death Eater. "I've marked a question for the fifth years. There's a gap in the curriculum expectations between them and the sixth years. They should have a better foundation for what's to come. That is assuming we're expecting this to last more than a year."

"You think it'll last that long?" It was Evert who asked the foolish question.

"Without a doubt," he flatly replied while digging through his desk to find the one document he could handle now. Picking up the petition for fifth year Muggleborns to take the Pureblood/Halfblood Potions class, he walked it over to the other wizard's desk and ceremoniously dropped it down. "This is obviously denied."

Then without waiting to gauge anyone else's reaction, he left the room hoping to get better progress with Lucius, but knowing it was going to be another lost cause.

"So there's nothing we can do?!" Lily asked him after they were ready for bed and finally had a chance to discuss his conversation with Lucius. The last thing he wanted to do was feel like he was failing her and yet, here he was about to let her down yet again.

"I'm afraid not," he said, giving his head a small shake, pretending he didn't feel her stare on him as he looked through the latest Potions Journal. He was getting behind in his trade, and given the changes this year would bring, he needed to stay as up to date as possible.

"So what does this mean exactly?" His wife's voice was laced with fear and disappointment. "How will-"

"I'll take him to register on Monday before dropping him off at the DMLE," the Potions Master explained. It was a moment he was already dreading; no father wanted to take his son to register for Compulsory Military Service, but they had no other choice. At some point - likely when Harry attempted to go back to school as was now a requirement - he'd be flagged for non-compliance and that would only make the situation worse for them all. Severus didn't even want to think about what that would do for the young Gryffindor. "As for what it means in the future? Lucius said they likely won't call anyone younger than seventeen for active duty, but Lord Voldemort wants the option should additional resources be required."

"Additional resources?!" Lily practically yelled at him, sitting up further in the bed to face him. "My son is not a thing that can be utilized for war."

Severus thought back to his conversation with Albus Dumbledore that morning. No matter which way they turned, Harry would be getting used; against the muggles by the Ministry, and against the Ministry by the Order. He didn't know why Albus was looking at Harry as the Chosen One, but he needed to do whatever he could to emphasize that it couldn't be true; that Neville Longbottom was the subject of the prophecy and his unfortunate death in 1981 closed any possibility of its fulfillment.

"I know, Lily," he put his journal back onto the bedside table, preparing himself for what was to come, "but at this point, our hands are tied. Until his O.W.L.s are in, the best we can do is simply not draw any more attention to him. After that, we'll have a better idea of how to prepare him… and ourselves for what he may be called to do."

She huffed beside him, not liking the idea, yet at the same time, understanding they couldn't do a damn thing about it. Every single wizarding household with a child that fell within the required registration age was going through the same hard conversation.

"What about Draco?" She eventually asked, a bit more aggressively than he would have expected since she was so close to Narcissa. "Does he have to register?"

Severus nodded his head. Unlike his wife, he was not surprised by the Malfoy heir's requirement to register the same as Harry. "He'll be registered for Compulsory until he's through with Hogwarts, at which point he'll then be expected to voluntarily sign up and join outright."

Something about his explanation took some of the fuel from her fire, "Will he be Marked?"

"Eventually, yes," Severus furrowed his brows and flexed his left forearm, not wanting to tell his wife that their son would likely end up with one too. Even if the Gryffindor was never called for Compulsory Service, he was already expected to serve just for being James's son, and while he wouldn't see the level of the Mark Draco would - which would have a direct link to the Dark Lord's call - Severus still didn't want to see that ugly mark on his son's arm. "As the Minister's son, I guarantee you that Draco won't ever see the battlegrounds, instead he'll likely go into tactical training under Dolohov."

"And Harry?" Her soft voice trembled; it was too much to even think about.

"I'm afraid if he keeps up his constant vigilante attitude and doesn't learn to watch what he says and to whom he says it to, then he'll be called before the end of his seventh year," he paused to let the words sink in before he added, "and I doubt it will be due to a legitimately fair selection."

Lily's bright green eyes shifted back and forth as she considered the information he'd told her. She was probably going through all the things he had when the realization hit him earlier today: their son would get himself killed if he didn't learn a little self-preservation. Between now and the start of the school year, Severus would have to try to bridge the gap between them and teach the young wizard how to accept what was happening outwardly and still be against it inside of himself. These were the types of things a father shouldn't need to teach his son, but times were ever changing and difficult decisions would need to be made.

Severus assumed the conversation between him and Lily was over because for the longest time, she didn't say anything and suddenly the lanterns went out - nonverbally and wandlessly - and he hadn't been the one to do it. He rolled over towards his wife, who was now facing away from him, and wrapped his arm around her small frame. She wasn't anywhere near relaxed enough to fall asleep, he could feel the muscles in her arms tense, so he ran his left hand from her shoulder to her fingers; their wedding bands clinking softly when they met, bringing Severus back to one of the best days of his life. Never did he think he'd be lucky enough to marry Lily Evans and when things got particularly challenging for him, he would close his eyes and picture her walking down the aisle towards him in her ivory dress with Harry walking by her side, and he instantly calmed. She could fix just about any turbulent feelings he had and she had no clue of the power she held over him.

Once her arms relaxed, he was surprised when she turned to him in the dark and said, "Maybe we should talk to Albus, Sev."

Instantly his own body tensed. "No," he replied, leaving no room for debate or question. He wasn't getting the Order involved, but he needed to find a compelling reason to give his wife in place of the one he couldn't tell her, "The headmaster is just that… a headmaster, a conduit for the DME. He holds no more power than Evert Abbott anymore and all those people who are putting their lives in his delusional hands will be nothing but disappointed, should they live long enough."

Was he being too harsh? Probably, nevertheless this wasn't a topic he was willing to leave open for interpretation. He needed to be strong and confident that the Order was gone; they held no power to influence change.

"It was just a thought," Lily eventually said, almost breathlessly; her last effort having proven to be futile. It almost killed him inside to be the cause, yet again, of her disappointment and it didn't help when she leaned over and gave him a soft kiss before saying, "I love you, Sev."

The upcoming weeks would prove to challenge them, both as husband and wife and as Harry's parents, in ways he could never imagine. In the dark - listening to the telltale sign of Lily's breathing evening out indicating she'd finally fallen asleep - he thought about how he would give just about anything to be able to go back in time and convince his wife to move them to America or Australia; anywhere he could go to get them out of Wizarding Britain before tragedy inevitably struck their small family once again.

~~~~HP~~~~

For Harry, that last week before he started his internship was the most challenging so far, in the short time he has been home for the summer. Not surprisingly, Severus made no progress in finding a loophole for his Compulsory Military Registration and come Monday morning, before he started at the DMLE, they would be going to officially register him. He was scared, yet would never admit to it, so that only further dampened his spirits that week and in turn their household became almost a constant battleground between the inhabitants. It didn't help when they had received a letter demanding his mother also appear at the Ministry on Monday to get retagged with the trace. Harry knew little about the actual magic behind the trace; only being aware that afterwards, the Ministry would be able to not only track everywhere she went, they would also know all the spells she casted, even simple domestic ones in the house.

This put his mother constantly on guard and as a result, she and Severus were bickering almost daily over the smallest of things: what time Severus got home from work, why he took yet another commissioned Potions job when he was already working for the summer, or if he left his teacup on the sitting room table not long after left the room. None of the small infractions caused a major row, for which the Gryffindor was grateful, however it did cause an overall negative cloud to hang over each room they walked through.

Sunday night, as much as the young wizard knew he should sleep so he was well rested for whatever the day would bring, he couldn't turn his brain off from the constant thinking and worrying of what the DMLE would be like. Deep down, he wasn't even sure he wanted to be an auror, only further complicating his feelings. Earlier this year, when he was sitting in front of Professor McGonagall in her office to go over his career options, it seemed like a decent career to choose. It all sounded glamorous on paper, and his marks in his Dark Arts classes - at least in the defense side of things - were fantastic, so it made sense. That was the day he tried to explain to his Head of House that ultimately his career didn't matter in the long run; that he knew he was expected to become Marked and serve for Lord Voldemort. Never in his life would he forget how angry she'd gotten, not at him, but over the fact that he thought his own feelings on the matter weren't important. Sitting across from her lion, she told him he didn't need to listen to any other person in regards to his future and that if he didn't want to serve, he didn't have to. Of course, with the war ahead of them, that became a lie because he could be forced into service; a thought for another sleepless night, though. Now that he was facing the fact he would be voluntarily walking into the department that had killed his biological father, he was terrified. Would the person who casted the fatal spell still be in active duty? Probably not, he rationalized sometime after one o'clock in the morning; the new Ministry probably wouldn't have left those who refused to conform to the new regulations. Knowing that didn't do much to ease his mind over having had such an impactful history before he even started the job, yet it allowed him to eventually fall asleep, so he didn't continue to question it.

As the son of a Ministry worker, many people assumed Harry had been to the Ministry of Magic a countless number of times. What they thought he was doing there was always a mystery to him because it wasn't like Severus was the kind of wizard who would welcome his wife and stepson in the middle of the day. In fact, Harry was sure the man didn't talk to a soul about his family in the first place, not that they all didn't know about them since their wedding was highly reported due his mother's connection to the "infamous James Potter." Harry always rolled his eyes when his biological father was referred to by that moniker. His father may have been a hero - sacrificing his own life for his Lord's - but no one seemed to care about the wife and three-year-old son he had left behind afterwards. For the longest time, Harry was angry and he lashed out at anyone who dared to shake his hand in honor; not understanding how it looked from an outsider's perspective, only from his viewpoint, and he missed his dad. Then as he got older and he remembered the man less and less, the fresh stinging pain wasn't so bad anymore - it was just a way of life - and he started to believe his dad had died protecting the principles of their people, that he was a hero. However, when he started at Hogwarts all those principles were challenged and then shattered. He quickly became ashamed for what his father stood for, yet couldn't say it in fear of causing his mother any more grief.

Entering through the Ministry floo system - as he would be doing for however many days he spent in this internship - was similar to Diagon Alley on an Invigorating Draft. The people shuffling through the fireplaces moved at neck break speed and Harry wasn't sure if it were because of the work they were doing or because they feared retribution from being late. Based on the faces of each rushed witch or wizard, he felt confident, and nauseated, it was the latter.

"Mornin', Professor Snape," a kind witch called them over and Harry instantly noticed it was a line for 'mixed households'; those who lived with either a muggle or a Muggleborn.

Given the state of the war, Harry didn't want to even take a guess at what would soon happen to those families living with Muggles, like Hermione and Dean Thomas, or even Seamus or his own stepfather. Severus's and Seamus's fathers were - or had been in his stepfather's case - a muggle after all, what happened to families truly living in a mixed house? Would it only be Ron and him left in the sixth year dormitory with Seamus being denied entry?

"Brought the family, I see?" The security witch continued while simultaneously collecting their wands and giving Severus a small wink. Immediately, Harry felt his face flush in discomfort from the situation for two reasons: what kind of person winked at a man standing with his wife and stepson, and how often did Severus speak about them for her to feel comfortable mentioning it so casually?

Harry almost laughed at Severus's apparent embarrassment over the encounter, until a piece of parchment popped up when his wand was scanned. Curious about what could have been notated to his own holly wand, he craned his neck to see.

"Here to register, I presume?" The security guard asked Severus; a move that got on Harry's nerves. At almost sixteen years old, he was more than capable of answering for himself.

"Yes," the Gryffindor wizard spoke up before his stepfather could. "Plus I'm starting an internship at the auror's department."

The witch across from them gave him a warm, kind smile, which eased his anxiety a little more over the whole situation and handed him his wand back. "You're free to go, just be sure to register before you leave today otherwise your wand will prohibit you from exiting. The aurors would be lucky to have you, Mr Potter, good luck today."

His smile fell a little when he realized what she'd meant; everything in his life would go back to either James Potter or Severus Snape. Why couldn't he ever be recognized for who he was as an individual? Just Harry. Not Harry James Potter, son of two Death Eaters?

His mind was lost in his own negative thoughts that he almost missed his mum's wand being scanned. Having been used to the extra measures taken with his mother, when the parchment popped up out of thin air from her wand he didn't think twice about it. The security guard looked it over, her brown eyes filling with more apprehension the further they moved down the missive. Harry's heart rate increased as they stood there waiting. He could feel his palms starting to sweat with each second that ticked by wondering if she would be able to make it into the Ministry or be turned away.

"It says here that Lily Snape has not yet been retagged," she said in an accusatory way, not at all how she sounded when Harry's own wand had a similar issue. Without making eye contact with any of them, she took hold of his mother's wand from where it was sitting on the countertop - still glowing a deep, angry red - and vanished it away.

"What are you doing?!" Harry's emerald eyes went wide when his mother's wand - the piece that to any magical person was as important as their arms - disappeared and did not immediately reappear. Instantly, he turned to Severus and asked, "Aren't you going to do anything?!"

He knew was probably making more of a scene than was warranted, which was exactly what he'd told himself he wouldn't do this morning, but he couldn't help it; he was panicking for his mother because it appeared like no one else cared that her wand had been taken. His high-and-mighty stepfather was simply standing there - his own ebony wand tucked safely back in his arm holster, a habit from his old Death Eater days - while his wife's wand had been confiscated. Without thinking, Harry brandished his own wand at Severus.

"Harry!" Lily tried to say, her face so flushed it matched her hair from all of the eyes drawn onto them. "He knew this would happen!"

"What?!" The young wizard questioned his mother. He didn't care that there had to be a logical explanation for why his mother's wand was removed and why his wand wasn't too for almost the same infraction.

"She'll get it back," Severus spoke loudly in his dark and ominous voice, his lips curling in just the right way to tell Harry if he didn't drop this, he would be in far more trouble than he already was in. From the corner of his eye, he saw two other guards pull their wands and slowly approach him from behind. Back in front of him, his stepfather had his hands raised to the two first guards, in a gesture telling them to stand down. Between the look in Severus's onyx eyes and the fact that the guards listened, Harry realized the man had far more authority than the young wizard ever gave him credit for. "They're taking it to retag it," he explained slowly and clearly, but with his jaw tight demonstrating how angry he was with the Gryffindor, "and she'll pick it up at the Improper Use of Magic Office when she gets retagged."

"It was all in the letter, sweetheart," his mum softly confirmed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" No matter how hard he tried to prevent it, Harry was sure his voice betrayed how hurt he was that they hadn't mentioned it.

"Had we known it would cause this reaction," Severus said through gritted teeth, "we would have. Now put your wand away."

The Gryffindor wizard obediently listened to the angry demand and placed his wand back into his robe pocket.

"Floor two," the guard, who was no longer smiling at him, motioned them through the doorway to the set of lifts to take them to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement floor.

"Thank you," Severus growled, coming up close behind Harry to whisper into his ear, "We'll discuss this tonight. I don't expect anything like that again from you."

Somehow the Gryffindor wizard got the feeling had a Muggleborn done what he had just done, that witch or wizard would be sitting in Azkaban faster than Harry could draw his own wand. Quickly nodding his affirmation to his stepfather, he tried not to focus on all the people around him staring at the family as they moved into the lifts. Not at all coincidentally, no one else entered with them.

"Severus-" Harry sheepishly started once the doors were closed, but the Potion Master held up his hand, stopping him.

"Don't... say a thing," the other wizard replied in a low, dark voice. "We will discuss this at home tonight."

Giving a large sigh, Harry shifted his weight between his feet while they waited in a deafening, awkward silence on their way to the second floor where all three offices they needed were located: the Auror's office, the Department of Magical Military Corps, and the Improper Use of Magic office.

"I'm sorry, mum," Harry mumbled towards his mother.

"Can you not follow a simple instruction?" His stepfather bellowed at him. "I said we will talk about it tonight."

The emphasis on the last four words told Harry he wasn't getting off easy, but he didn't know what his reaction at the security desk was going to do to his mother, physically and mentally, and he wanted to apologize to her. Picking up on her son's consternation over the whole situation, Lily reached over and gave Harry a hug.

When the lift opened to the second level, the noise flooding towards them was almost deafening and Harry wasn't sure if this was the normal bustling for the busy floor or if it was still a reaction to the announcement over the war. He'd only been to this floor once before, to register his wand after receiving it when he was eleven years old; his stepfather opting to do it directly at the Ministry instead of having Olivander do it for them. The floor was split into two sections: the left side was dominated by the Magical Military Corps offices, while on the right was the Auror's office - and where all of the noise was coming from, much to Harry's disappointment - with another small section at the end of the corridor dedicated to the Improper Use of Magic. The Snape Family would basically be floating from one of these sections to the next until Harry was left at the auror's office for the day, his mum went home, and Severus went to the DME for his own day of work.

Starting on the left, with the Magical Military Corps, Harry was immediately on guard when the door separating this section from the rest of the corridor closed behind him and it went strangely quiet due to an extremely strong privacy ward keeping the outside noise pollution away and the inside conversations completely private. The office was as cleaned and streamlined as Harry would have expected from the military division. The floors were white marble and the walls a pristine grey with exquisite wooden moulding lining the ceiling. Along the right wall was a set of moving pictures of the Death Eaters in battle - how real they were instead of staged, Harry could only guess - depicting their history. The left wall was adorned with pictures of the Dark Mark and its own evolution throughout the years, starting with the one his stepfather and biological biological father bore, meaning they were part of Lord Voldemort's inner circle before he gained power, all the way to the four used today to designate the different levels of service: top ranking generals and lieutenants, mid-ranked officers, junior officers, and then the infantry level. And while the incoming registrants for the Compulsory Service wouldn't be marked immediately, at some point they would have to be and that meant Harry would see that ugly Mark on his own forearm someday. Walking into the reception area, the people in the open cubicles around him were all speaking vibrantly, yet no sounds were heard. In this part of the floor, any overheard conversation could be detrimental to the Wizarding World's security and therefore it made sense that it was protected with the utmost privacy. Without actually silencing a person, Harry didn't even know the spells to create this much privacy and still still be able to hold a conversation without any noise whatsoever. If nothing else, it was an impressive display of what was possible.

For as big of a deal as registering for the Compulsory Military Service was - after all, it could be the very thing that sent him into battle - it was oddly simply to do. The wizard in charge of his registration didn't look much older than Harry, which was more than a little unnerving, and had large protruding ears with a face full of painful looking pimples making him appear far more innocent than he probably was, even as a low-level Death Eater. The wizard introduced himself as Stanley Shunpike before he brought Harry, with his parents in tow, into one of the far offices.

The young wizard tried hard not to appear nervous, but as he sat in the hard chair between his parents, his leg continuously bounced up and down causing at least two scornful looks from Severus. He couldn't help it, though; if he didn't move somehow, he was sure he would explode from the pent up nervous energy building inside of him. As for the actual registration, it was nothing more than a quick diagnostic scan - of which he was sure Stanley wasn't qualified to do - and then taking his wand and scanning it, and his unique magical signature, into the registry so he could be identified if his "ticket" was called. During the wand scanning, he was sure he'd heard his mum sniffle, but he was too afraid to look over and see her distraught face, so he focused on watching his wand hoping when he was able to use it again come September, he wouldn't notice anything different.

As much as the young wizard wanted to accompany his mother to the Improper Use of Magic office, the stern glare from Severus told him not to even think of asking. This was one of those times he was sure his stepfather could read his mind, or at least his surface thoughts, but asking that pointed question would do him no good; if the Slytherin could read them, he wasn't going to tell Harry, so any answer couldn't be trusted. And so he stayed quiet as they made their way across the corridor to the Auror side of the floor.

Unlike the Military Corps side, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not only loud, but was also bustling with activity from every single area of the office. The entire far wall was dedicated to a board covered in blank parchment. It seemed rather odd to the young wizard until Severus explained that they were charmed only to show information to those working in the department. This way they could keep track of ongoing investigations without worrying about wandering eyes from people visiting from other floors. Most of the room was filled with desks, which had more aurors occupying them than Harry would have expected, all of them trying to speak over one another with what sounded like the latest gossip instead of any relevant information.

Shouldn't they be out protecting people? He thought to himself as they approached the desk of Tonks - the auror who led them to the disapparation point at the gala and handed off his note from Hermione - and Kingsley Shacklebolt; both of whom gave Harry a wave as he passed by with his parents.

In the far left corner of the room, where their direct trajectory was headed, was a large office belonging to Corban Yaxley, the head of the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If Harry thought he was nervous signing up for the Military Compulsory Service, it was nothing compared to how he felt approaching Yaxley's office. From the outside, he couldn't see much besides the large enchanted window lining the wall parallel to the door currently depicting an industrial alleyway Harry didn't recognize, nevertheless assumed it had some importance to the Death Eater. The closer they got to the office, the slower Harry's strides became until eventually he was a full two meters behind his parents.

"Yaxley?" Severus called at the same time he casually knocked on the door with the back of his knuckles; a move Harry could never see himself feeling comfortable enough to pull off. "Is now a good time?"

"Of course, come in," Harry heard the unenthusiastic voice of Corban Yaxley call from inside the office. Somehow this felt like an insanely awful idea and he was hating his mother for arranging it with Narcissa.

Harry's emerald eyes widened at the room around him as he stepped into it. Following the same theme from the main area, Yaxley's office was pure chaos. There were files and parchment littering almost every square centimeter; on his desk, on the chairs in front of his desk, and on the bookshelves on the wall flush with the door. He may not have been as up-to-date with the Daily Prophet as Severus, but he had to assume if this much was happening in the Auror's office, there would be some kind of news coverage.

"Take a seat, Mr Potter," the head of the department commanded. Harry looked around for a place to sit and conveniently the stack of parchment on the chair to the right of the desk lifted and moved to the left side chair where it continued to hover over the files already seated there. Promptly, the Gryffindor sat in the offered chair. "Would you like me to deliver him to your office when we're done today?"

There was a sarcasm in his voice Harry didn't like. Based on the interactions he'd seen of Severus with his fellow Ministry employees and Death Eaters, he could never really tell where his stepfather fell in the ranks. On the one hand, the man didn't really like people in general, so the fact that they all shared a common employer didn't mean much to him, however the way Yaxley spoke, it gave the impression he was being mocked.

"No," Severus flatly replied, "I'll come collect him when the day is up."

"Very well," Yaxley answered, almost uninterested in the exchange.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and furrowed his brows at the sight of his mother staring down at the floor; the same reaction Hermione, as a Muggleborn witch, had grown into whenever she spoke to Severus or anyone with the Dark Mark. Obviously, his mum didn't act like that with her husband, and seeing it now made him angry inside at the injustice of it all over again. This wasn't the time, and it wasn't the place to say anything though, so he clenched his jaw tight as the two Slytherins exchanged salutations and the young wizard was then left alone with the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Let's get everything out in the open right now, Potter," the blonde wizard said. The crassness in his voice put Harry in a defensive mood and he pressed his lips into a fine line waiting for what was to come next. "You are only here as a favor to the Minister and nothing more. I'm going to have you process paperwork-" he motioned with his hand around the room, "-which should keep you busy most of your time this summer and out of my hair."

The Gryffindor audibly gulped at the sheer number of parchment sitting around the room. Had the older wizard literally emptied his entire files in preparation for his assignment here? It definitely appeared that way and sudden the young wizard had this strong urge to prove himself in this role.

"You'll be reporting up to Auror Williamson," Yaxley explained, walking ominously behind the chair Harry was seated in, "and you are only to enter this office under my explicit approval. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry clearly answered, unwilling to be intimidated by the wizard circling him.

"Perfect. Let me introduce you to Auror Williamson and he'll get you… settled."

Harry went to stand, but was harshly pushed back down from Yaxley's hand pressing into his right shoulder. The moment he fell back into the chair with a hard thump, the Death Eater leaned into the young wizard's left side and spoke into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine, "And don't think you'll get any special treatment because of who your father is… either of them."

That lit the fire back into Harry's core. "Good," the Gryffindor said with his chin lifted high into the air as he could, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

With his message heard loud and clear, Harry pushed his chair back - the blonde with it - and stood tall, waiting for his superior to lead the way, fully anticipating the Department Head to take off so quickly his latest intern would have a difficult time keeping up. What he didn't expect was Yaxley to give him a good once over - as if sizing him up for some kind of duty - before turning on his heels and walking out of his office without muttering a single word, Harry just knowing to follow.

Now that the nerve-wracking introduction was over, the Gryffindor walked with a little more pride in his step going back through the office. Again, he refused to let any of them walk over him either for the favor he was receiving or for who his father and stepfather were. He was determined to show them all that he was fully competent on his own and didn't require any outside help to get through this summer; even if he was only doing menial filing. In Yaxley's presence, the office atmosphere calmed down, and while the talking didn't completely cease, it lessened dramatically, allowing Harry to focus on the room around him. Each desk was filled with files, parchment, and personal mementos signifying they were occupied by an Auror already. In fact, looking around the room, he didn't see any available space for where he would be spending hours pouring through documents and files for the foreseeable future: every desk was taken and the space between the desks were filled with filing cabinets that - based on the amount of parchment on each aurors desk - had to be close to empty or at least had to have a really strong extension charm on them.

Following in Yaxley's wake, Harry listened to him pointing out places of interest throughout the space; like the lavatories, break room, and a small plant in the corner he would be responsible to keep alive this summer. The poor thing looked half dead already and he made a mental note to ask his mum what he could do - without magic - to try to revive it and then keep it alive. Once he went back to Hogwarts in September, the thing could die for all he cared, but he was going to make sure it was so healthy Professor Sprout would be proud of him.

"Auror Williamson," Yaxley called out to a wizard in red robes with his long blonde hair tied at the nape of his neck. He looked to be in his mid 20's, telling Harry just how menial of the work he would be doing this summer, and as with the rest of the office around him, his desk was covered with files he was working on. "This is Harry Potter. He'll be your responsibility this summer. Keep him busy and out of everyone else's way."

"Yes, sir," the auror gave a swift nod before Yaxley finally took his leave. The two wizards stared at one another before the auror stood and held his hand out for Harry to shake. "I'm Damien Williamson, nice to meet you."

"Same," Harry replied, trying to hide the surprise in his voice that at least one person sounded friendly and excited he was there.

"You're Snape's kid, right?" The other wizard asked, and before Harry could grudgingly answer, he added, "I had him as a professor for all seven years at Hogwarts and couldn't imagine living with the man."

The second half of that proclamation was whispered, likely because he had been scarred by the fact that Severus could hear almost anything said about him. Even with his current animosity towards his stepfather, Harry still thought back to the times the harsh professor had just been his dad: reading to him before tucking him into bed every night, taking him for ice cream, or making a snowman on Christmas Day. The wizard in front of him only knew the man as the harsh authoritarian behind a desk and Harry knew better than to allude to anything different from his school and work persona.

"Yeah, he can be a total git sometimes," the young Gryffindor decided to answer with. "So… Erm… where's my desk?"

Damien's blue eyes shifted and his eyebrows shot up, as if he didn't realize his intern wasn't about to stand for his whole miserable summer working there.

"You're beside me," he finally said, pointing to what Harry assumed was a non-existent spot; almost an extension of the messy desk top of his supervisor's own space.

Upon closer examination, Harry noticed that the area Damien pointed to was different from all the other desk areas in the room. Where there should have been a cabinet separating the two full sized work stations - the other belonging to John Dawlish - instead sat a rickety old chair in front of what Harry could only assume was his desk. The space itself was wedged between the auror partners' areas and fully covered in files; literally, there was not a centimeter of the splintery wood surface visible. He wanted to complain, not because he thought he deserved something better, but because it would be damn near impossible to work in this space comfortably for how many hours per day he'd be forced to stay.

Taking a cleansing breath, he nodded and carefully pulled the chair back and sat down. Overwhelmed by the disorganized mess in front of him, he asked, "So what do I do with all of this?"

~~~~SS~~~~

Getting Lily retagged with the trace was nowhere near as easy as registering Harry for the Compulsory Service. The letter they had received last week dictating them to come to the office that day made it sound as if she would simply have her wand tagged - which admittedly, they should have warned Harry about it getting taken upon arrival, but never did they expect the young wizard to have such a caustic reaction. The letter did not prepare them for the interrogation his wife was subjected to and the Legilimency performed on her - twice for good measure - to be sure she wasn't hiding anything regarding her muggle relatives. Anger filled him up inside over the fact that Petunia Evans, now Dursley, could still cause so much pain and anguish to someone as innocent as Lily. She didn't ask for any of this, it was simply something she was born with and Severus would have given up his own magical world to live with her in the muggle world - where her life would have been far less complicated - if she would have simply agreed to it. But Harry, she'd once told him, deserved to live in the world where the young wizard belonged; that he deserved everything magic could offer to him and while Severus didn't necessarily disagree with her sentiment, he simply gave her more credit for her own comfort than she did.

Between the painful screams from his wife earlier that morning - to which he was eventually detained for threatening to go rescue her - and the thought of Harry's day at the DMLE, Severus was lucky he'd been able to focus on half of the work he faced when he made it to his own desk. He was stuck in an impossible situation and he would give just about anything to rectify it.

Lost in his own turbulent thoughts, he completely missed the commotion in the office around him until it was already nearing three in o'clock in the afternoon. He'd already made it through the curriculum changes for the incoming first years. The first years were always the top priority for every course, since their supply list was required to be sent to the Headmaster no later than the 10th of July so it could be incorporated into the upcoming new students' supply list that went out with their official invitation. The other classes wouldn't be needed until the 25th of July as their lists were sent after the new student invitations, offering him a bit more time to compile it. With the urgent matters out of the way - never one to wait until the last minute as he would likely end up making changes between now and his internal deadline - he leaned back in his uncomfortable chair and it was only then he realized how loud their normally somber office had become.

"What's going on?" He asked, to the crowd who had gathered in the middle of the room.

"Where have you been, Snape?" Carlton Cygnet replied in astonishment. "Take a look at this."

The file from his desk levitated over to Severus and he grabbed it from the air with more aggression than was likely necessary. There was nothing from the outside of the plain brown file telling him what the inside would contain, so curiously he opened it up to reveal an official Ministry of Magic notice to the Department of Magical Education and what looked to be a series of curriculum notes beneath it. Picking up the notice on top, he decided it was worth a full reading instead scanning it as he would normally do for these official looking documents.

Effective in the 1996-1997 school year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will reinstate the previously cancelled Muggle Studies courses for all student years. This single-leveled course will be required by all students without exception and will focus on the following, high-priority topics:

History of the Wizarding and Muggle Dark Ages

Restoring Wizarding Pride

Muggleborn Safety

Modern Wizarding Culture

The course will be split into two classes per year, sorted by house, and will be instructed by the Head of the Muggleborn Registration Commission, Dolores Umbridge.

This missive serves as the official notification to the Department of Magical Education and no further approval is required. Please adjust the class schedules as needed to accommodate one two-hour Muggle Studies class per week for each student.

Faithfully,

Lucius Malfoy

Minister for Magic

Pureblood

"Dammit!" Severus uncharacteristically cursed when he completed the notification. They couldn't even appeal the bloody class which was guaranteed to be full of nothing but anti-muggle propaganda.

"Told you guys he'd handle it well," Carlton declared, as knuts and sickles were exchanged between his fellow co-workers.

Ignoring the fact that his co-workers wagered on his reaction, Severus gave the notification another read through. This time coming to the conclusion that he wasn't sure which was worse: the fact that the course existed in the first place - with topics having nothing to do with traditional Muggle Studies - or the person who was designated to run it, Madam Umbridge. Even to the most conforming Ministry employees, and Death Eaters alike, Dolores Umbridge was a thorn in everyone's side who they'd all love to see escorted out of the Ministry. She was Slytherin to the core, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but the way she went about getting her way was too cunning; something Severus never thought possible until he had a run-in with the witch early on in her position with the Muggleborn Registration Commission. Once he'd married Lily, he petitioned to have his and Harry's Halfblood status, combined with James's Pureblood status, erase her from the registry and he'd almost gotten away with it. James's posthumous honors had just been officially awarded and it was really the perfect time to act - which may or may not have also impacted the timeframe they had gotten married - and had the toadlike witch not gotten involved, most of the other commissioners would have likely turned a deaf ear to her erased entry. She was new to the position, as was the registry in general, and managed to convince the Wizengamot that an exception as large as this one would set a 'deadly precedent' they couldn't afford. Since then, he went out of his way to make her life miserable. Admittedly, however, they didn't cross paths nearly as much to do any real damage. Nevertheless, her presence at Hogwarts, as well as this fabricated course, was significant and would impact the entirety of the student body negatively.

"Can they do that?" Evert childishly asked. "As the Department of Magical Education, shouldn't they need our approval?"

The Potions Master resisted the urge to roll his eyes and answered, "Of course they can, they're the Ministry, and while we certainly make recommendations and approve changes, Lucius can supersede our entire department."

He was met with silence as each of the witches and wizards in their small corner of the fifth floor contemplated the meaning behind his statement. Lucius was an extension of Lord Voldemort and therefore - as they all knew by now - he had power to do whatever he felt was needed to "keep the wizarding world safe in the time of war", such as mandating all magical children in Britain attend Hogwarts and mandating they take this ridiculous course. Once Harry sat through one of these classes, the last five years of his righteous antics would look trivial.

The decision not to tell Harry and Lily about the new Muggle Studies course was not one Severus made lightly. He was cognizant of the fact that he was keeping more and more things from his wife and son, and it was something he certainly was not proud of. The fact that the Ministry - more specifically this War on Muggles - was driving a wedge between his family concerned him greatly, yet he felt as if he had few other options.

Dinner the first night after Harry's internship was quieter than usual. Naturally, they had asked the young wizard all about his internship and the most they got from him was that he liked his supervisor - Damien Williamson, a Halfblood Severus remembered by name only - and the work was tedious, but not difficult. The last claim had Severus narrowing his eyes at the Gryffindor because very little of the work the Aurors did could be classified as 'not difficult'; even the smallest of jobs. This told him either his son absolutely hated what he was doing or he wasn't doing anything. The former he could handle, but if Harry spent his summer literally doing nothing, then Severus would have to step in. Having a person like Harry - determined to right every last wrong in the world - sitting in the Auror's office bored would not end well for the teen. It could be what Lucius was betting on, and that observation alone scared him more than he would ever admit.

He waited until it was almost bedtime to approach his son's bedroom and try to ascertain some answers. Lily had told him she doubted the Gryffindor would give him any additional information, however she wasn't a Slytherin and therefore wouldn't inherently notice the value of his plan to go about getting it.

Entering the room, the Potions Master immediately felt the tension radiating from the young wizard who was sitting upon his bed. Harry was dressed in a pair of red flannel pyjamas and based on his messier-than-normal hair, he had most likely been almost asleep before Severus knocked on the door.

"Did I wake you?" Severus asked, taking his first tentative step in the hostile room.

"Not really," Harry lied and fumbled with his glasses as he placed them back on his face; a clear sign he'd been going to sleep. "Everything alright, Severus?"

"Harry," he sat down at the foot of Harry's bed feeling too much deja vu from when the room was his own at almost sixteen, then he decided to start with, "there's something we need to talk about."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed and sadly asked, "About my actions at the Ministry this morning?"

"That depends on how you answer my next question," Severus cryptically offered. He watched his son consider what had been said, his emerald eyes slightly brightening at the recognition that he may not get punished for his hostility in the last place he should have pulled a stunt like that. But it would cost him, and the professor could see the Gryffindor weighing his options. Eventually - and far longer than it would have taken a Slytherin - the young wizard nodded his head. "Good choice, now tell me what they have you doing in the DMLE."

Harry should have been prepared for the request - it wasn't like Severus hid his intentions - and yet he still tensed up and scowled.

"I'm filing paperwork," he mumbled, not as embarrassed as Severus would have anticipated if that was the reason he didn't want to tell them in the first place. "That's what they're going to have me do all summer long, from my half a desk they managed to wedge in between my supervisor's desk and his partner's."

Taking a moment to think before speaking his next very important words - having given up Harry's punishment from the Ministry debacle for this lackluster news - his instincts told him the Gryffindor may have a little more cunning to him than he gave the young wizard credit for.

"What kind of paperwork are you filing?"

A pregnant pause enveloped the father and son. Unlike Harry, Severus could withstand the awkward silence that became almost deafening. Over the years, he had quickly learned being able to keep his patience in an uncomfortable silence was beneficial to gaining information. People crumbled in the silence, and therefore with his expert Occlumency training, he could thrive in their discomfort. Once again, he was rewarded by his patience.

"Erm…" Harry stuttered, "I don't know, I didn't really read any of it."

To that, Severus raised a single eyebrow, knowing the young wizard was lying and making it clear to him - without words - that unless he told the truth, he would be rescinding his previous offer.

"Fine," Harry eventually conceded. He wasn't angry as Severus would have expected and for a split second he worried he'd been the one played over in this deal, "It's reports from the raids done throughout the years."

"And…" he prompted.

"And more than half of them are completely rubbish!" The young wizard practically yelled. "People being treated like animals because of some bogus accusation to allow the Ministry into their homes, and it's just going to get worse when they start targeting muggles this time around!"

"Harry-"

"I know," the Gryffindor bravely interrupted him, "keep my temper in check and my head down. That's why I didn't say anything tonight."

It was his turn to nod his agreement with his son, something that rarely happened between them, especially as of late, but even the professor could admit to Harry's maturity in the situation. Unfortunately, being subjected to that environment daily would wear him down, far more than either of them could ever prepare for.