“Anything to say?” the professor asked.

“Is there ever?” Harry said.

Harry sat rigidly in the same chair, staring blankly into the same flames. They provided no warmth, no solace, no comfort. The professor shifted and spoke.

“Talk to me.”

A single tear rolled down Harry’s pale cheek.

“He’s dead.”

Harry walked into the rooms and sat once again. He and the professor continued to question these meetings, wondering if they had any use or validity at all. He, however, was beginning to like them a bit.

“How are you?” the professor asked.

Harry blinked at the fire.

“She hates me.”

Harry sunk into his chair. Yes, it was now his chair. They had discussed it the other day. It had been a pleasant conversation. Somehow, he knew today would not be as pleasant.

“Tell me about the Dursleys,” the professor said.

He had been right.

“They hurt me.”

Harry looked at the professor’s sad but determined face from his chair. He wondered what had happened even though he was sure he knew.

“I’ve told the headmaster your situation,” the professor said. “He’s said you must return.”

“I know.”

“I will not let you return.”

Harry smiled slightly.

“I know.”

Harry warmed his hands on a cup of tea as he curled up on his chair. A storm raged outside. He hated storms, but he was…safe here.

“Tell me about your godfather,” the professor said, holding his own cup of tea.

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding,” Harry said. “I’ve sent letters.”

“Has he replied?”

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding.”

Harry contemplated the upcoming day, sitting in his chair. He really wasn’t ready for this even if he had managed to survive this far. Granted, he hadn’t been ready for the others either.

“What are you thinking about?” the professor asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Harry once again stared blankly into the fire, wishing it could do something to fix what had happened. His arm burned with pain, but he paid it no mind. He could do nothing but replay all he had witnessed in his mind over and over again.

“There was nothing you could do,” the professor said.

“I know.”

The professor gave a small sigh.

“You’ll be coming to my home this summer.”

“I know.”

But let’s return to the beginning…

“I have had just about enough of you two,” Albus Dumbledore roared at his professor and student. Madam Pomfrey stood strictly by, awaiting her chance to finish treating her newest patients. “I have been patient and accommodating, but this is it. We are just days into the school year and you have already progressed to causing each other physical harm.”

Severus Snape and Harry Potter cast glares at each other but turned chastened looks at the headmaster. Dumbledore, however, wasn’t fazed by the expressions. Rather, his face remained uncharacteristically stern and hard as he stared at them.

Harry didn’t know what the issue was. The ‘physical harm’ had been the aftermath of an exploding potion which was caused by the fight they had been having. Distracted by his rage, Harry had put the wrong ingredient in and it had exploded all over them, giving them numerous burns and bruises from Snape bringing them harshly to the floor. Their animosity had never bothered Dumbledore before, so why now?

“You are going to learn to tolerate each other,” Dumbledore was saying. Harry and Snape frowned at what he could possibly be planning. “From now on, Harry, once a week you will go to Professor Snape’s rooms and the two of you will spend no less than an hour together. Find things to talk about, read, do your individual work, but do it together, learn about each other, and learn to get along. I will not tolerate such behaviour any longer, especially when it has no merit or reasoning.”

“Professor!” Harry protested, eyes wide at the idea of having to spend free time with Snape.

“Headmaster, I hardly think this is necessary,” Snape said and Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed.

“I think you will find, Severus, that it is I who decides what is necessary and I have deemed this quite necessary,” Dumbledore said. “We are in the prelude to war, my boys, and this behaviour will only hinder our efforts once we are at war.”

Snape and Harry remained silent, both ashamed in the face of Dumbledore’s anger and internally fuming at having to spend time together.

“You will learn the truth about each other, and this behaviour and treatment of each other will cease. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they said together and glared at each other again.

“Begin this immediately,” Dumbledore said. “Severus, you will write me a weekly report after each meeting so I might monitor your progress.”

“Yes, Albus,” Snape said tightly.

Dumbledore nodded sharply. “Have a good evening, boys.”

They watched the headmaster leave the Hospital Wing in aggravated silence and petulantly took potions that Pomfrey forced on them. They then stalked out of the infirmary. Snape whirled around once they were in the hall, making Harry stop abruptly with wide eyes.

“Be at my office tomorrow evening at seven. Do not be late. Every Thursday at seven o’clock,” Snape said.

Harry wanted to snap and refuse, but knew it would get him nowhere. So he clenched his jaw and nodded. Snape just sneered and stalked off to his dungeons. Harry huffed in irritation and made his way back up to Gryffindor Tower, choosing to forgo dinner.

He sat heavily in one of the chairs by the fireplace, finding himself wishing, not for the first time, that Sirius would answer his letters. He had already sent two but he had yet to receive a reply. His summer had been horrible as his uncle had stepped up the blows he dealt. He still had a lot of healing to do from his uncle’s treatment. Not only had his summer been awful but it also seemed as though his relationship with Snape was even more volatile. He was also having the freakiest dreams. He just wanted someone to talk to, someone who might be able to explain or help or just make him feel…safer. He just wanted to feel safe for once.

“Harry? You never came to dinner,” Hermione said when she and Ron returned to the common room later on.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“Dumbledore’s angry at me and Snape,” Harry said. “He thinks we need to stop fighting, that it’s getting out of hand.”

“He’s not wrong,” Hermione said, gaining a blank look from Harry and an affronted look from Ron. “The Death Eaters are active which means Voldemort is too. There will be a war and probably sooner rather than later. How can we fight a war together when we can’t all tolerate each other on a regular day?”

“Who says Snape’s even on our side?” Ron said.

“He is,” Harry said. “As much as I hate him, he is completely loyal to Dumbledore.”

“I dunno, mate,” Ron said uncertainly. “He seems like good Death Eater material to me.”

“There’s more to the professor than we could ever even hope to understand,” Hermione said. “We will need him as an ally in the war but that can’t happen if we can’t get along.”

“Funny, Dumbledore said basically the same thing,” Harry said with a sigh. “In any case, Dumbledore’s way ahead of you, Hermione. He’s got Snape and me spending an evening a week together to get to know each other and learn to get along. He sounded pretty annoyed with the way we act towards each other.”

“At least he’s after Snape about it for once,” Ron grumbled. “He’s never seemed to care about Snape being a git before.”

“They’ve also never caused each other physical harm before,” Hermione pointed out.

“It was a complete accident and you know it,” Harry said, his eyes narrowing at her.

“I know,” she said, “but it also wouldn’t have happened if you could hold your temper and get along with Professor Snape.”

“He doesn’t exactly make it easy,” Harry said.

“I’m aware, but it also goes both ways,” she said. “You are both responsible for the way your relationship is.”

Harry huffed, knowing she was right. He exchanged a knowing look with Ron, both of them quirking small smiles.

Harry groaned quietly to himself as he stood outside Snape’s office. There was a huge part of him that was saying to leave, to ignore Dumbledore’s orders. There was the other part, however, that was smaller but louder and telling him to knock. He sighed and did as he was told.

“Enter.”

He pushed the door open and slowly walked into the office, finding Snape sitting at his desk. Once the door closed, Snape looked up, looking just as irritated about the situation as Harry felt.

“Come,” he said shortly, rising from the desk. He walked to a door that was in the far corner and went through after tapping it with his wand. “You are to always knock before entering my quarters.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, following the man into surprisingly comfortable looking rooms, surprising for them being Snape’s. While he had expected Snape’s rooms to be nothing but green and silver, there was actually very little green and no silver. Instead, it was all earth tones with beige sofas, auburn chairs, and a dark oak wood coffee table with a glass center. There were puffy, dark green pillows on the sofas as a nice accent and the thick, soft carpet was also dark green. All the furniture encircled a large fireplace that was currently lit and roaring.

“Sit,” Snape snapped, taking his own seat on the sofa. Harry hesitated for a time and then sat stiffly in one of the large chairs next to the sofa. It was so soft and he knew he could into it if he let himself. For now, though, he sat straight and folded his hands in his lap.

Tense silence fell and fell thick.

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore expected them to talk about. Not only did they hate each other but they simply had nothing in common. Slytherins and Gyrffindors were completely different. Snape was a Potions and books person while Harry was Defense and Quidditch. Not that he didn’t like reading, he did, and he was at least interested in Potions outside of Snape’s classroom. But…he was the Boy Who Lived and James Potter’s son. He had an image he had to present, didn’t he? Harry Potter was supposed to like training, fighting, and being active. He loved being active but he would also love the chance to just read a book or explore his own personal magic away from battle training.

But none of that was Harry Potter, he wasn’t supposed to, wasn’t allowed…so why bother?

He snorted to himself quietly at the brief ludicrous thought of telling all that to Snape. Like Snape would understand or evencare. He was just like everyone else and only saw him as the next James Potter.

“I can hear you brooding over here, Potter.”

Harry glared at Snape for interrupting his musings. “That a problem?”

“Considering you are in my quarters, I’d prefer you not bring more misery to an already miserable situation,” Snape said.

“Hard to do when you’re here,” Harry snapped. “Misery seeps out of you.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I do not appreciate being insulted in my own quarters,” he growled.

“I don’t like being insulted in general, but that’s never stopped you before,” Harry spat.

Snape sneered. “Have I hurt your precious, delicate feelings, Potter? So spoiled you can’t handle criticism?”

“Like I’m remotely close to spoiled,” Harry scoffed. “And your ‘criticism’ seems a lot like abuse and hatred.”

“Do you or do you not have a Firebolt, Potter?”

Harry’s face tensed in anger. “That was from Sirius, a gift.”

“No, not spoiled,” Snape mocked. “And all your adoring fans.”

“Oh, you mean the people who turn around and hate me the second I’m not the perfect golden child? Yeah, great fans,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be an imbecile, no one could ever hate you,” Snape snapped.

Harry glared. “I know of one person who does.”

“My apologies for not worshipping you like the rest.”

“I never asked for it. I don’t even want it.”

Snape barked a harsh laugh. “Sure, a Potter doesn’t want fame and eternal worldly praise. Don’t kid yourself.”

“Maybe my father was like that, but I am not my father.”

“You are every bit the person James Potter once was, egotistical, a bully, all of it. Think you’re above it all, greater than Merlin himself. You are every ounce of your father but I will not indulge.”

Harry hardened. “I am not my father and I am definitely not a bully.”

Snape raised a condescending eyebrow. “Oh really? And all your encounters with Mr. Malfoy?”

“He started it!”

Snape shook his head. “Blaming others for your faults and failures. Just like—“

“I’m not my father!” Harry yelled, unconsciously jumping to his feet.

Snape snarled. “Do not yell at me, boy.”

“You call me and my father bullies? I think you need to check yourself, Snape because you are the only bully I see here!”

“How dare you, you insolent, insignificant little brat?” Snape growled quietly, also getting to his feet to tower over Harry. “You will not disrespect me in my own home.”

“Then stop being a git and give me a reason to respect you.”

Snape’s face twisted and when his hand came up, Harry honestly thought he was about to be hit. He flinched instinctively and cringed when the hand gripped his upper arm tight right where he had a still healing bruise. He hissed in pain and stumbled, staring at Snape in surprise when he was shoved out into the office.

“Leave my sight this instant.”

And the door was slammed shut.

Well, that went just as well as I expected, Harry mused with a sigh and headed back up to Gryffindor Tower. He just shook his head when he realized they hadn’t even managed their one-hour minimum.

And so it went on. Every Thursday evening saw Harry entering Snape’s rooms only for them to sit in silence and then scream and curse each other. It wasn’t until the fourth week that they finally reached one hour but their fighting began shortly after and Harry was once again kicked out. As the weeks continued, Harry gained homework that he was able to bring with him even though it didn’t protect him from Snape’s rage and hatred. His supposed stupidity was frequently addressed and their interaction never got better, but rather devolved into their usual screams.

His assumed ego and fame-seeking ways were brought up often as well since the Triwizard Tournament would be taking place that year. Snape continuously harassed him about his assumed desire to enter the tournament and gain that eternal glory Dumbledore had mentioned. Of course, Harry wasted his breath arguing against the accusations but he refused to be accused of being a spoiled, attention-seeker when he was so far from it. He also refused to be any kind of a step in for his parents. He had no idea what kind of people they had truly been and he didn’t want to be compared to potentially false images. Additionally, he wanted to be his own person rather than a reincarnation or the Boy Who Lived.

He blew out a breath and sat heavily in front of the Gryffindor fire. As the meetings went on and it drew closer to the beginning of the tournament, Harry couldn’t help but feel tension rising within the castle. He tried to shake it off, figuring it was just because of his continuous nightmares, but he couldn’t help but wonder. It was completely possible that it was too good to be true to think he could go a year without anything happening. He could hope but was it possible?

He gasped when his scar suddenly burst with a short but sharp pain. His hand flew to his forehead and he massaged his scar, easing away the lingering sting. He frowned as it disappeared. Beginning over the summer, he had started to wonder about his scar. It wouldn’t seem a scar would or should hurt so many years after the injury. However, it hadn’t been just a regular wound; it had been caused by magic. Dark magic?

Was there such a thing?

Hagrid had said there were Dark wizards and had sort of implied that Voldemort used Dark magic. Even Dumbledore had sort of alluded to the existence of Dark magic after the Chamber events. But it didn’t seem like magic could be qualified in such terms. Anything could be considered ‘Dark’ if used in such a way. Which wouldn’t make the magic itself bad but, rather, the way it was used.

So his scar was caused by magic, but because of the way Voldemort used the magic and also the situation it had been caused in, there could be something bad behind his scar. There could be some kind of magical reside that was now affecting it. He would have to look into it.

Until then, maybe he would try Sirius again. Maybe he’d actually receive an answer. Sirius had seemed so upset to have to leave him last year so why wasn’t he answering any of Harry’s letters? Didn’t Sirius want them to be a family or at least as close as they could get for the moment?

Severus growled to himself as he stared into the fire. These meetings with Potter had to be one of the worst ideas Dumbledore had ever had. Their current relationship worked just fine. There was no need for them to get along and like each other.

“How was it tonight, Severus?”

Severus glared at the headmaster. “Same as the last three. This is all pointless, Albus. Nothing will change.”

“I beg to differ, my boy,” Dumbledore said. “The two of you are not so different and we need established alliances if we want a head start on the coming war.”

“Potter and I do not have to be friends to win a war.”

“Perhaps not but it would be quite the advantage and the both of you are missing something in your lives. You could be each other’s answers.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “You are delusional. Nothing will come of these meetings.”

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore mused. “If anything, maybe you could at least provide young Harry with an outlet.”

“Meaning?” Severus drawled.

“I fear Harry may experience awful things this year and he has a harsh past he has yet to reveal to anyone.”

Severus' eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Dumbledore simply smiled. “Have a good night, my boy.”

Severus glared and left the office. There was no part of him that believed anything Dumbledore had said. Well, maybe there was a small part. He supposed an alliance with Potter could be beneficial in the war that was to come. Potter was the one destined to defeat Voldemort and he would surely be a powerful wizard one day. The boy would certainly need training and there weren’t many trustworthy people that could prepare him for Voldemort. Not that he would want to do extra work with the brat, but Dumbledore was sure to enlist his help with Potter one day.

He didn’t have to be Potter’s friend but at least tolerate the child enough that they could efficiently work together down the line.

He blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head as he entered his rooms.

He would tolerate Potter minimally and that was it.

Harry walked into Snape’s room a couple weeks later, silently sitting in the same chair with his book bag. So consumed by his thoughts he barely even noticed Snape sit on the sofa or the tea tray he placed on the coffee table. He slowly pulled out his Charms homework and set to work…well, more set to staring blankly at the textbook and his notes.

He had written and sent his letter to Sirius and, once again, failed to receive a reply. He knew it was probably difficult for his godfather to write especially since he didn’t even know where Sirius was staying, but Sirius was his family and loved him. Surely he would’ve made an effort to write Harry back, especially after three letters all containing his concerns about his strange dreams and painful scar. It seemed important, like stuff Sirius would want to know. Even Ron and Hermione had said Sirius would want to know. But maybe they were wrong. Maybe Sirius didn’t care as much as he thought. Maybe he was disappearing the way Lupin had.

The thought hurt. A lot.

Sirius was all he had, the only thing left of his parents, his family.

He thought Sirius had felt the same, had wanted them to be a real family. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d never have a family.

Maybe it was just how it was meant to be.

“Potter!”

Harry jumped at the shout and looked over at the professor.

“While I certainly enjoy being ignored,” Snape sneered, gaining a small glare from Harry, “I would appreciate some manners. Such as answering my offer of tea.”

Here Harry blushed slightly. He hadn’t intentionally been rude for once. “Sorry, sir. Was just thinking. I’d like some tea.

“I do hope you don’t think too hard. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself,” Snape said, pouring and handing Harry a cup of tea.

Harry glared. “I was thinking about my homework.”

“So you do know how to do your homework properly. Funny, I never would have guessed,” Snape said.

Harry’s glare deepened. “Well, I’m sorry that most of the time I’m more focused on saving my life rather than my Potions essay. Be glad you get any work from me at all.”

“Sometimes I think no work would be preferable to the pathetic work you give me,” Snape said. “Besides, you wouldn’t be in life-threatening situations if you learned to control your hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex,” Harry growled.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Snape drawled.

Harry wanted to say more, but he knew things would only get worse if he did. He just wanted to be silent and think. So that’s exactly what he did. Instead of responding, he just shook his head and looked back at his notes. How he wished Sirius would answer, would give him advice on his dreams and his situation with Snape.

He probably wouldn’t get much from Sirius in regards to Snape. His godfather absolutely despised the Potions master.

Harry sighed and tapped his quill on his parchment, not noticing the professor’s stare.

Snape frowned as he observed the boy. He was much more forlorn and distraught than he had been only a week earlier. Something had clearly happened, but what? On second thought, why did he care? Whatever it was, was keeping the child quiet and that was perfectly fine with him.

Although Potter’s sudden change was odd. Quite frankly he seemed to be in the beginning stages of depression.

He snorted. What would Potter have to be depressed about? His fame? His fortune? His adoring fans? His loving relatives?

Snape just shook his head and sneered at Potter. “Anything to say?”

Without looking up, Harry snapped, “Is there ever?”

“This is the Goblet of Fire,” Dumbledore announced as he revealed the large ancient, intricate goblet. “For those of you who wish to enter, write your name on parchment and place it in the goblet before the start of the Halloween feast tomorrow evening. No one under the age of seventeen may enter the tournament.”

Protests were shouted out.

Harry looked around at all the protestors, all from Hogwarts. The students that had come from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were all clearly of age and so it was mostly just fifth and sixth year Hogwarts students voicing complaints. He was slightly surprised to see Fred and George arguing with the crowd.

He just shrugged when he looked at Ron. He was perfectly fine with the age limit. He never had a desire to enter the tournament and the Age Line meant he absolutely couldn’t. It was all fine with him. He would be perfectly happy sitting in the stands watching the death-defying events from the sidelines for once.

“The money would be nice, have to admit,” Ron said. “Hell, even eternal glory sounds pretty damn good.”

Harry just laughed. “You can have it all, mate. I’m good.”

“Your loss,” Ron said and they laughed. “Guess it’s not really worth it, a potentially deadly tournament just for some money.”

“No, not quite worth it,” Harry said, eating a few fried mushrooms.

“It’s horrific that this tournament was ever brought back,” Hermione said in disgust. “It’s barbaric and just asking for trouble.”

Harry and Ron just smiled at each other. The tournament would be fun to watch.

Harry looked around, wondering who from Hogwarts would enter the tournament. He couldn’t really imagine anyone in Hogwarts willing to risk their lives in such a way. Well, regardless, it was their choice and he had nothing to do with anything.

His eyes were drawn up to the staff table and they settled on Professor Moody. He felt a strange jump in his stomach, the same feeling he got every time he saw the man. Something about the old Auror made him uneasy and it was not a feeling that was going away.

“You okay, mate?” Ron interrupted, dragging Harry’s attention back to him.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said, watching Ron cast a quick glance at the staff table.

“Thinking of ways to kill Snape in your next meeting?” Ron said and Harry laughed.

“No, nothing like that,” Harry said. “You know, he actually hasn’t been quite as bad lately. I mean, he’s still Snape, don’t get me wrong, but he’s seemed to have toned it down a touch.”

Ron gave him an incredulous look. “You sure you’ve been meeting with the right professor? Maybe you’ve been seeing Karkaroff.”

Harry grinned and shook his head in amusement. “I’m pretty sure Karkaroff is worse than Snape. I’ll choose Snape any day.”

Ron glanced up at the Durmstrang highmaster who was sneering at his food as though it had greatly offended him. “I might be with you on that one.”

They both laughed quietly.

“But, seriously, Snape’s been okay?” Ron said.

“He’s been okay for Snape,” Harry said, nodding. “We still end up fighting every time but it feels more…forced, like he’s making himself come up with things for us to fight about. We don’t seem as vicious anymore.”

“Damn Dumbledore was right,” Ron said in surprise and Harry looked at him. “You two are learning to tolerate each other. Never thought I’d live to see the day,” he said dramatically, laughing when Harry tossed a spoon at him.

“I’m not sure we’ve gotten that far,” Harry said, “but I guess he might be heading that direction.”

“Y’know,” Ron said, swallowing his mouthful of potatoes, “Dumbledore might not be wrong about all this. Bet Snape knows how to fight. He probably would be a good guy to have on our side rather than against us.”

Harry blinked in shock. “Are you, Ron Weasley, defending and accepting Snape?”

Ron rolled his eyes with a grin. “Shut up, Harry. I can come around sometimes.”

“So if Snape and I become the best of friends, we have your approval?” Harry said.

“Well, let’s not push it too far,” Ron said and they both burst out laughing, drawing the attention of two sets of eyes at the staff table.

“Harry Potter!”

Silence descended on the Great Hall and Harry’s eyes flashed between three key people. He gazed at Dumbledore who held the little piece of parchment that apparently had his name on it and had been expelled from the Goblet of Fire. The headmaster’s expression was a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes jumped to Snape whose eyes were unreadable but they did hold something that Harry would have recognized had it come from anyone else. Finally, he turned to look at Ron next to him. His best friend had a look of absolute fear but it was also intermingled with strong support.

“You’ll be okay,” Ron said encouragingly. “Go. I’ll be here for you.”

Harry gave him a thankful smile and nodded before pushing himself up from the Gryffindor table. All eyes were on him and most were accusatory and angry. Others were confused and curious. A select few were actually nervous, unsettled, and worried. He tried to ignore them all as well as the whispering that began as he walked up to the podium and Dumbledore.

He wasn’t completely sure why but once he was in front of Dumbledore, the headmaster roughly shoved the scrap of parchment into his hands. He supposed Dumbledore wanted to see his reaction or wanted him to see the impossibility that had taken place. Harry looked down and felt himself pale even more, felt his stomach drop even further. It was definitely his name and it was even his writing.

His eyes flew back up to Dumbledore’s hard ones. How was this possible? Why was it happening?

He swallowed thickly as Dumbledore gestured for him to go through the same door behind the staff table that the other champions had disappeared through. He passed the other staff members, gaining an extremely unsettling frown from Moody. He took a subtle step back and around the strange man, heading past Snape next. Their eyes connected. Being that it was Snape and their relationship was still on questionable terms, he fully expected to see pure rage and accusation in Snape’s face. Neither was present, however. Instead, he could see confusion as well as that same unknown emotion. Whatever it was, it helped ease the tension and fear inside him very slightly.

Finally cutting the contact, Harry continued on and walked into the Trophy Room to join the other champions, all of whom gave him looks of great confusion. He didn’t blame them. The situation should be impossible. It should be impossible for there to be a fourth champion. There were only meant to be three and definitely not two from the same school.

Before any of them could ask any questions, the door opened and Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Moody, Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, and Barty Crouch all entered the room and instantly cornered Harry. Dumbledore reached out and tightly gripped Harry’s wrist, making him wince at the pain. The headmaster paid no attention, his expression hard. Harry flinched in pain and fear.

“Did you put your name in the Goblet?” Dumbledore said, his voice accusatory.

“N-no,” Harry stuttered. “I-I didn’t want to enter and I wouldn’t even know how to get past the Age Line. I’m only fourteen!”

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t enter!” Harry argued. “I almost die several times every year as it is, why would I enter a tournament where I would most likely die?”

Dumbledore’s grasp tightened and Harry gasped out loud. “How did you enter?”

“I-I didn’t!” Harry shouted. “Let go! You-you’re hurting me!”

“Headmaster!” Snape, of all people, swooped in and stepped between Harry and Dumbledore, his hand encircling Dumbledore’s wrist. “Release him,” he said quietly, his own grasp tightening on the headmaster’s wrist until Dumbledore released Harry. Snape moved subtly until he was almost completely blocking Harry, glaring at Dumbledore. “He did not put his name in. He is fourteen and would not have known the magic it would take to fool the Age Line. Someone else has entered the boy.”

Harry peeked around the professor at all the angry faces. He would never admit it but the headmaster had honestly frightened him and he was having a hard time handling the shaking in his body. Almost unconsciously and not caring just who it was, he reached out and grasped the back of Snape’s robes. He had questions and he was confused about so many things, but he didn’t care at the moment. All he knew was that Snape was protecting him and he felt almost safe with the man.

He would examine his sanity later.

“The contract is magically binding regardless,” Crouch said. “Despite the circumstances and unconventionality, Mr. Potter has been chosen and he is a Champion.”

Everyone turned to stare at Harry who shrunk behind Snape.

So much for his normal year.

Harry sat in the chair, staring at the little piece of parchment that held his name and had now changed everything. He was now one of the contestants in a tournament that could potentially kill him, particularly because it was a tournament for seventeen year olds and adults, not fourteen year olds.

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to survive? Why did everyone think he put his name in the Goblet? Why did no one believe him?

Except Snape.

He glanced up at the Potions master who was quietly reading a book on the sofa. The man hadn’t said anything when he showed up in the office except for a quiet, civil, “Good evening.” Harry had been surprised. He had expected questions or for the oddly protective nature the man had exuded earlier in the evening to fall and for Snape to just start yelling like he usually would. But none of that had happened. He simply let Harry in, got the usual tray of tea, and then grabbed his book and settled on the sofa.

Harry hadn’t felt like being around the Gryffindors, knowing there would be many who would be angry and bombard him with questions. He had only spoken to Ron, telling his friend where he would be and also to quickly ensure Ron knew he had not entered the tournament. A huge load had been lifted, though not all of it, when Ron reassured him that he knew Harry never would have entered, especially not without telling Ron. And so Harry had headed down to the dungeons and Snape’s rooms.

“I guess I should go back to the common room,” Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Snape looked up from his book. “There is nothing you would like to discuss?”

Harry blinked, surprised Snape was offering. “Not sure there’s anything to talk about.”

“You don’t want to talk about what happened tonight?”

Harry shrugged. “It happened. Shouldn’t be surprised.” He got to his feet with a sigh. “There’s always someone that wants me dead.”

“Potter…”

“Thanks for letting me come down here,” Harry said. “Have a good night, Professor.”

“Potter!” Snape roared, storming over to where Harry and Draco Malfoy had their wands drawn. Harry’s wand was raised while Malfoy had dropped his arm when he spotted Snape ahead of time. Harry groaned and let his arm swing down by his side. The strange civility that had been between Harry and Snape the night the Champions were chosen had pretty much disappeared. They were just as angry and hateful to each other as usual. They were constantly fighting again and their weekly meetings had returned to being completely useless.

“Cursing students, Potter?” Snape sneered and Harry glared at him.

“I’d tell you ‘no’ but you won’t believe me anyways,” Harry said angrily, shoving his wand back into his pocket.

“I think twenty points from Gryffindor and detention should suffice,” Snape said and Harry glared again. “Tonight, Potter.”

Harry sighed and shook his head angrily as he watched Snape, Malfoy, and his pack stalk off. The fight had been stupid and, from the last few days, nothing out of the ordinary. Suffice to say, he hadn’t received much support from the Hogwarts population. Rather, the majority of the students were angry at him, believing he stole the attention from Cedric Diggory and Hufflepuff house. Most believed he would not survive, Malfoy being one of them. The Malfoy prince apparently had a bet with his father going on Harry’s survival chances. Apparently Malfoy didn’t think he’d last more than five minutes.

He sighed again and headed to the Quidditch Pitch, climbing into the stands. He wanted to disappear, even worse than in second year. Then everyone was just scared. Now everyone hated him, even most of the Gryffindors. He had a handful of friends left: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George, Neville, and Dean. Even Seamus had turned on him, thinking he was seeking attention. He frowned to himself sadly.

Was it really so hard to like him? All these people that called themselves his friends were sure quick to turn on him. That wasn’t friendship. So why was it so hard for anyone to truly like him and care about him? Despite all the care and help he showed the previous year, Lupin clearly didn’t care since he had completely disappeared from Harry’s life.

Biting his lip, Harry realized, painfully, the same could be said for Sirius. His godfather hadn’t made any effort to contact him despite Harry’s numerous letters. Sirius had pretty much got what he wanted. He exposed Pettigrew though the rat had escaped. He got Pettigrew away from Hogwarts, his primary reason for breaking out of Azkaban and into Hogwarts. His main business was done and that business had not included Harry. Harry was not his main focus or concern, was not the primary receiver of his care. It hurt to know even his own godfather wanted nothing to do with him.

Additionally, from his actions the night of the Champion reveals, it was clear Dumbledore did not truly care either. He hadn’t believed Harry when he said he didn’t enter his name. He had actually physically hurt Harry and he hadn’t spoken or even really looked at Harry since that night.

Ron was truly the only one he knew that honestly cared, but one out of so many including his own relatives didn’t completely fill the empty hole he had inside. Oddly and ironically, Snape was the only one from which Harry had felt genuine care even if it had been extremely short lived.

Maybe he wasn’t meant to have a family. He had managed on his own for this long so he really didn’t need anyone anymore. Maybe he was just meant to be alone.

“Hey, Harry!”

He looked up and smiled at Ron who was approaching him.

Well, not completely alone.

Harry glared at the Hufflepuff that shoulder-checked him as he passed. The action had become increasingly common over the days. It had been just over a week and the anger towards him was only getting worse. He sighed and knocked on Snape’s office door.

“Come in,” Snape said, swinging the door open.

Harry did so, blinking in confusion when he saw a small stack of books on the small table in the corner. He looked at Snape who grabbed what appeared to be a roll of parchment.

“You are to rewrite your Potions essay,” Snape said, handing him the parchment. “This was horrific. I refuse to accept it when you have had many opportunities to ask for assistance.”

Harry stared at him in blank surprise. “You…want me to redo an assignment for my detention?”

“Is that a problem?” Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry shook his head. “Follow the notes I have written. The books I have provided will allow for sufficient in depth research. You may leave when you have finished.”

Harry’s head spun as Snape went to his desk, heading to the small desk himself. The professor really knew how to confuse him, always changing his attitude and treatment of Harry. Their relationship seemed so volatile as it was continuously unknown if they would be fighting like usual or newly civil. Harry just sighed and sat down, pulling parchment and a quill from his bag. He unfolded his original essay and was surprised to see actual feedback and tips rather than the usual bright red ‘T’ and derogatory comment at the top.

And so he began to work, looking at and using each comment the Potions master had written. It was all extremely helpful and he found himself writing one of the best essays he ever had. He had never considered asking for Snape’s help on the assignment. Why would he? Snape had never cared before, he had just simply failed Harry and commented on Harry’s stupidity. It was how it had always been. They both knew Harry was horrible at Potions and that he had never put much effort into any of his schoolwork. It wasn’t only Potions. He had never put effort in. He never saw the point. It wasn’t like there was anyone who cared if he did well, if he succeeded. His relatives certainly didn’t care. He also knew that school wouldn’t matter once they were at war and he had to fight Voldemort. Essays wouldn’t help him win a war.

He pushed it all aside for now and continued to rewrite his essay. He wasn’t sure how long it took but he eventually finished and it was at least twice as long as the original. He felt strangely satisfied with the essay, knowing it was actually researched and properly done, and also that Snape would approve.

He frowned at himself. Why would he care if Snape approved? Snape hated him, the feeling was mutual, and he really didn’t care what Snape thought of him. He studiously ignored the small part of him that was saying otherwise as he handed Snape his essay. The professor’s eyes scanned the beginning and he hummed.

“Already much better, Potter,” Snape said. “This is the work I expect to receive from now on. Understood?”

“I-I do, but, sir, the tournament,” Harry said. “I-I might not—“

“Are you worried?” Snape asked casually.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said quietly, finally admitting it to anyone aside from Ron.

“You will be able to do this, Potter,” Snape said, shocking Harry. “You’re capable of more than you think.”

Harry knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it.

“You may go,” Snape said dismissively.

Still staring, Harry grabbed his bag and slowly left the office. Staring into space for a moment in the corridor, it was a time before he finally started moving and began the long trek up to Gryffindor Tower. Luckily it was after curfew so he was able to avoid the angry Hogwarts students and he made it to the Tower without issue.

“Ron,” Harry said in surprise when he found Ron sitting in front of the common room fire.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, looking up from his Quidditch magazine. “Was starting to think Snape had killed you.”

Harry chuckled, sitting in one of the red armchairs. “Not this time. He had me redo our last essay.”

“Are you serious? That’s it?” Ron said and Harry nodded. “Think there’s something wrong with him? He’s been strange this year.”

“I honestly have no idea what to make of him,” Harry said, shrugging. “He’s giving me whiplash quite frankly.”

They laughed.

“Maybe people can change,” Ron said. “Some people,” he added, obviously thinking of the Dursleys.

“Maybe,” Harry muttered, gazing into the fire. He thought of Dumbledore and Lupin and Sirius, and thought that, while maybe people could change, it wasn’t always necessarily for the better.

The courtyard was swarming as the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang excitedly made their way to Hogsmeade village for the first visit of the year. New friends showed the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students around, encouraging them to buy all kinds of Honeydukes sweets and get closer to the haunted Shrieking Shack. Those of age went into the Three Broomsticks and ordered butterbeers and Firewhiskeys. Those Hogwarts students that weren’t using the tournament as a reason to ignore their schoolwork headed into Scrivenshaft’s to stock up on quills, ink, and parchment.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wandering the village together, making great attempts to discuss anything except the Triwizard Tournament and the fast approaching First Task. The task was a complete mystery as the Champions had been told nothing except that they were only allowed their wands. The lack of information was not making Harry feel any better about the tournament.

“Want butterbeer?” Ron asked.

“Sounds good,” Harry said, nodding.

“I’ll meet you in a bit,” Hermione said. “I told Ginny I’d help her.”

“With what?” Ron frowned.

“None of your business,” Hermione said and walked away down the crowded street.

“What the hell is that all about?” Ron said, still frowning as Harry pulled him towards the Three Broomsticks.

“Who knows,” Harry said, shivering as they finally got out of the brisk weather. It wasn’t exactly cold yet but the air was still chilled especially if stood in for long periods.

“Probably something to do with Viktor Krum,” Ron grumbled as they found an empty table in the busy pub.

Harry just laughed and gave their order to the young girl that came over.

“So how’re things on the Snape front?” Ron asked.

“Well, I haven’t seen him outside of class since last week so no idea if we’ve had a change,” Harry said. “I see him tonight though. For all I know, we’re back at each other’s throats.”

“He is a bit of a lunatic, isn’t he?” Ron said, chuckling.

“More unpredictable in his temperament,” Harry said. “Lately anyways. He used to be totally predictable since he was just perpetually angry and hated me. Now, I have no idea on a day to day basis. Moody, on the other hand, he’s a lunatic.”

Ron raised his bottle to clink against Harry’s. “Totally agree with you there, mate.”

And then they were falling to the ground in a shower of glass and dust.

Harry gasped audibly as his head spun and his ears rang. He heard screaming, but it was muffled by his already assaulted ears. He gazed around through blurry eyes, trying to figure out what was happening. Slowly his senses began to return and Harry heard Ron’s shouts before he saw his friend.

“Harry! We have to get out of here! It’s Death Eaters!”

Harry barely registered Ron pushing something off his leg before he was pulled to his feet.

“We have to go! Now!” Ron repeated and they rushed over to the gaping hole that had been the door. Harry paused briefly and stared in horror at the sixth year Ravenclaw lying still on the ground, bloody and buried under rubble.

“Harry!”

He tore his eyes from the young girl and continued stumbling over the destroyed building to join Ron at the giant opening. They pulled their wands as they carefully peered around the remaining bits of wall for danger. Other buildings were now crumbling and, across the road, owls were taking flight in fear as the Hogsmeade Post Office burned. Students, shop owners, and villagers were running around in terror, screaming as the black robe and skeletal mask clad Death Eaters chased them and cast various spells within seconds of each other. Harry frowned as he read some of the spells that flew by, not recognizing most of them.

They both ducked as a stray spell from a seventh year Gryffindor headed their way, causing a chair behind them to burn to a crisp.

“We need to go, get back to school,” Ron said and Harry nodded.

However, they apparently waited too long and a red curse hit the ground between them and sent them flying again in opposite directions.

Harry blinked slowly, everything seeming to move in slow motion. His body was heavy and everything was blurry, his ears ringing. Pain was coursing through his body and he groaned, attempting to roll onto his front so he could push himself up. The ringing in his ears was replaced by screams, telling him he hadn’t been unconscious for long. It took some time and effort, but he eventually managed to push himself painfully to his knees. He gasped in pain when he attempted to get to his feet, only to find a large piece of glass in his right side. His eyes closed briefly as his hand came to rest on the blood-soaked shirt beneath the shard. He wasn’t sure if he should take it out or not. It was possible that the glass was the only thing currently keeping him alive.

With a deep breath he chose to leave it in and forced himself to his feet, yelling out in pain as he did so. His head spun with pain and blood loss. He blinked and breathed hard until his vision cleared enough for him to begin walking. One hand remained around the glass and his other grasped his wand as his feet dragged him through what remained of Zonko’s Joke Shop, glancing at the burning Tomes and Scrolls where three dead Durmstrang students lay on the ground.

He stumbled into the street, narrowly missing being run over by a group of crying and screaming Beauxbatons girls.

“Potter!”

He spun around, wincing, at the shout and found himself facing three masked Death Eaters. He tightened his grip on his wand, wishing he could’ve just made it back to the castle.

“Poor little Potter, all alone,” one of them said and then giggled.

Without warning, the Death Eaters began to send curses at him. He responded as quick as he could, attempting to read all the curses coming his way in order to better retaliate. With his wounds, however, he knew he wouldn’t last very long. He was already tiring and getting dizzier with each moment.

Where were any teachers or Dumbledore?

“Bombarda!” he yelled, casting the curse at the ground in front of the Death Eaters, causing a cloud of dust to engulf the Death Eaters and a rain of dirt and cobblestone to fall. As they screeched in anger, Harry did his best to turn and take off running. He wasn’t moving nearly fast enough, though, so, instead, he dove behind a pile of rubble that was from the now crumbling Gladrags. He hissed as the rough movement jostled the shard in his abdomen.

“Potter!”

“Our lord will rise again and this world will be ours!”

“You will perish!”

Harry closed his eyes and leaned against the scorched wood pile behind him. His chest was heaving with pain and fear. With his injury, there was no way he would make it back to the castle. He had no idea where Dumbledore and the Hogwarts staff was. His eyes burned at the thought of how much trouble he was in, how much help he needed. Whenever he needed help there was never anyone there to give it. Except Ron. Ron was always there.

His arm flew up to cover his face as the street beside him exploded and a body flew up. He jumped violently when the body landed at his feet and then felt his heart stop completely when his eyes met the wide, terror-filled blue ones in front of him. His eyes travelled over the familiar face and body, taking in the blood running from the temple and the jaggedly slit throat. Tears filled his eyes and his heart began to pound painfully.

“Ron?” he whispered, pushing himself forward and shakily reaching out to lightly touch his best friend’s pale face. “Ron?” he said a little louder, shaking his friend.

“Harry Potter! I will deliver you to our lord!”

Harry didn’t hear the yell. He couldn’t look away from Ron and the tears were now pouring down his cheeks. He shook Ron more vigorously, sobs rising up in his throat.

“Ron…Ron!” he shouted desperately, feeling his heart shattering. “Ron!”

He looked up when he heard a scream and found Hermione standing there, her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth. He moved his attention back to Ron, meeting the blank blue eyes again and his hand fisting Ron’s shirt. He was so distraught that he failed to hear the Death Eater’s shout or feel the curse approaching him.

“Potter!”

Suddenly black clad legs were beside him and he was protected from the brutal Cutting Curse that would have hit him in the throat. He managed to look away from Ron and found it was Snape standing next to him, found it was Snape that had protected him. He tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out except more tears and sobs. He just watched as Snape knelt down next to him and accepted the Potions master’s hand on his shoulder while the man’s other hand reached out and gently closed Ron’s eyes.

Harry choked on a violent sob and, not possessing the capacity of thought, threw himself at his professor, burying his face in the man’s chest even as one of his hands continued to cling to Ron.

Snape tensed at the initial contact and looked down at his most hated student uncomfortably. He had no idea what to do. How was he supposed to comfort anyone, let alone Harry Potter devastated over his best friend’s death? Still tense and unsure, he brought his arms up and rested one on the boy’s back and the other on the messy head. Potter heaved against him as he sobbed for his friend and it pulled at even Snape’s dead heart.

Potter let out another primal scream of anguish, making Snape jump slightly and then, shockingly, tighten his hold on the child. He found his fingers burying themselves in the black hair and his other hand began to gently rub the boy’s back. He looked over his shoulder when he remembered he was not alone. Dumbledore was standing in front of the other staff members, his eyes pained. Sprout, Sinistra, and even Flitwick had tears streaming down their cheeks. Hagrid was sobbing as well and McGonagall was clearly holding back as she held the crying Granger.

Snape turned his head back, his eyes settling on the dead student and his chest ached. He unconsciously pressed his cheek to the side of Potter’s head, letting his eyes close as he acknowledged his own pain and sadness at the death of Weasley and listening to the heartbroken Potter in his arms.

Harry hardly blinked, staring straight ahead as injuries were treated. He barely noticed when the glass shard was pulled from his side. He took potions without question or protest. He didn’t say a word to anyone. His eyes never looked at any of the others around him. He couldn’t form a single thought past Ron. His throat was so tight, his eyes wouldn’t stop burning, and his chest felt like it would explode.

He couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Ron couldn’t be dead. Ron was all he had, Ron and Hermione. They were the only family he had, the closest he would ever get to the family he so desperately wanted. Ron couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t lose his best friend. It was Ron; Ron was always there for him, was supposed to be by his side forever.

He was far too distracted by thoughts of Ron that he didn’t even notice when he was led out of the Hospital Wing and into the dungeons. He was brought into all-too-familiar rooms but he had no reaction. He sat rigidly in the same chair, staring blankly into the same flames. They provided no warmth, no solace, no comfort. The professor shifted and spoke.

“Talk to me.”

A single tear rolled down Harry’s cheek.

“He’s dead.”

More tears fell. He didn’t think he would have been able to say it out loud so soon, didn’t think he’d be able to admit it. It hurt so much more than he ever thought possible to admit it. He’d never been in so much pain before and he’d had his fair share of pain. Ron was dead, he was gone. A sob bubbled up in his throat and he tried to suppress it, but it was impossible. He quickly dissolved into tears again, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them.

He was alone again. Ron was gone and he was alone. He was always left alone. How could he have lost his best friend? The year was already so terrible, Ron was the one thing helping him get through it all. How was he supposed to do it now, on his own? He couldn’t do it alone; he didn’t want to do it alone.

He jumped when a hand landed gently on his arms wrapped around his legs. He raised his head just enough to peek over his knees at Snape who was crouched in front of him. He searched the man’s black eyes but they were completely unreadable. Maybe not completely for there was something familiar in the eyes but he couldn’t identify it. Whatever it was helped ease his despair minutely and he once again found himself embracing his horrid Potions professor. This time it was less tense despite their usually violent relationship and was not as anguished as it had been in Hogsmeade. Harry’s arms wrapped around the professor’s neck while the man’s arms came around his midsection.

In the moment, as they held each other through Harry’s grief, they knew something between them and in their relationship, had shifted and changed.

After quite some time, the two finally parted. Harry dropped his arms in his lap and lowered his eyes in embarrassment and in an attempt to stop his still steadily flowing tears. Snape’s arms had also pulled back but his hands were still resting on Harry’s knees.

“You’ll get through this, Potter,” Snape said quietly.

Harry sniffed, wringing his hands together. “How? Ron-Ron’s…I can’t, not without him.”

“You can,” Snape said firmly.

“But he’s…”

“I know and you mourn and grieve as long as you need to, but do not give up on your own life in that grief. It is cliché but it is wise to consider that Mr. Weasley would wish you to continue on and be happy,” Snape said. “He will help you through this.”

“He can’t,” Harry said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he looked down at his lap again.

“One does not have to be a ghost to still be with us after death.”

Harry looked up at him again, his eyes full of tears and his face of grief.

“I…will also help if I can,” Snape added, gaining a shocked look from the boy. “I know what it is to lose someone you love.”

Some more tears fell and Harry bit his lip against the pain and as he considered his next question. It would be completely unorthodox and totally bizarre given their history. But he couldn’t face, well, any of it. He wanted a night to cope on his own without the heavy weight of the empty dorm bed.

“Can-can I stay here tonight?” Harry asked quietly, almost mumbling. He refused to look at his professor, terrified of the anger and rejection that would be before him.

Snape’s eyebrows flew up at the question but it was his only response to the boy’s unexpected request. It was completely out of the blue and even a little inappropriate seeing as they were student and teacher. He should really refuse and send the boy back to the Tower. Plus, did he really want Harry Potter infesting his quarters all night where he could cause only Merlin knew what kind of trouble and damage? He paused his thoughts and gazed at the boy in front of him.

The child was folded almost completely in half in the chair, an effort to hide himself away and block out the world. His face was red and puffy and surely permanently stained with tears at this point. He was biting his lip hard as he continued to sniff and his hands spun together in his grief and anxiety. The boy looked absolutely destroyed and sending him back to the Tower where he would have to face the other Gryffindors and Weasley’s bed would not help.

“It’s okay, sir, I’m sorry,” Harry started, assuming his request was being refused.

“You may stay the night,” Snape said and Harry’s head flew up to look at him with wide eyes. “You can sleep on the sofa, if that will suffice.”

“Th-that’s fine, Professor,” Harry said, startled he was being allowed to stay. “Th-thank you.”

Snape inclined his head. “The Tower may not be best for you tonight. The situation will be discussed further tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, not really caring. He wasn’t even thinking about tomorrow. He foresaw nothing but a bed—or, in this case, a sofa—in his immediate future. Everything else would just have to wait.

“I will prepare the sofa then,” Snape said and he stood, finally removing his hands from Harry’s knees. Harry frowned to himself as he found himself missing the contact instantly.

He pressed his cheek to his knee as he watched the professor put bedding on the sofa. The day and emotions were really beginning to catch up to him, and he was beginning to feel physically and mentally exhausted. It was getting difficult to focus and keep his eyes open.

“Here you are, Potter,” Snape said, stepping to the side of the most comfortable looking sofa Harry had ever seen. Granted, he was sure a tree trunk and a rock for a pillow would look comfortable at the moment as well.

“It looks great, Professor,” Harry said sincerely. “Thank you again.”

“If you feel ready for bed?”

“Beyond,” Harry said. 

“Then I, too, am off. You are aware of where everything is and, should you need anything, you can come to me,” Snape said. “I will do my best to reign in my temper.”

Harry’s mouth twitched into a near smile. “You’re not so bad anymore.”

Snape’s lips also twitched, but nothing more. He just cleared his throat. “Time for bed. I will see you in the morning, Potter.”

“Good night, Professor,” Harry said softly as Snape headed to the bedroom. He waited until Snape’s bedroom door closed before he moved over to the made-up sofa. He kicked off his shoes but kept everything else on, including his sweater, having been brought new clothes while he was in the Hospital Wing. As he pulled his legs onto the sofa and pulled the puffy comforter over him, he realized Snape had left the fire lit. He was grateful for it. Despite his clothes, the blanket, and the fire, he remained chilled and it was not going away. He could not seem to make any warmth enter his body. While the fire wasn’t providing him warmth in his current state, it was still a calming presence and a comfort. He took off his glasses and stared blurrily into the flames, allowing his mind to fill with memories of Ron in a bid to push aside the image of his friend’s body. The memories ran like a movie and eventually coaxed him into sleep.

Harry looked around, spotting the familiar oak tree that sat on the Hogwarts grounds, the one they always sat under. It was out of place here in the otherwise completely open meadow. It wasn’t peaceful though. Clouds were hanging in the sky, casting dark shadows over the large area. While unnaturally dark, there was something else off about the entire situation but he couldn’t think of what it was.

“Harry!”

Harry spun around at his name, at the extremely familiar voice. He would know that voice anywhere and he knew it was impossible for him to be hearing it now. He stared at the tree with wide eyes. His voice caught in his throat and his eyes burned when Ron stepped around the tree, smiling gently and his red hair blowing in the chilly wind.

“Come sit, Harry.”

“This isn’t real,” Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged a shoulder, inclined his head, and crossed his arms. “Real is relative when it comes to magic.”

Harry took a few steps closer to his friend and the tree. “What does that mean? You mean you’re—you’re not…”

Ron’s eyes grew sad. “No, I’m dead. That can’t be changed. I am so sorry, Harry.”

Tears filled Harry’s eyes and he looked at his feet.

“Sit,” Ron said quietly.

Harry looked back at him, tears streaming down his face. He stared at his best friend for a long while before he finally rushed forward and pulled Ron into a tight hug. He hadn’t actually expected to be able to touch Ron so it was overwhelming when Ron was solid and returned the embrace. He clutched onto Ron for dear life, holding so tightly and he never wanted to let go. Maybe they could just stay where they were forever. It wasn’t as though he had much to go back to.

When thunder rumbled, Harry wasn’t aware but Ron was.

“Can we sit now?” Ron said. “We’ll be safe from the rain under the tree.”

Harry finally pulled away and nodded slightly. Ron pulled him over to the tree and they made themselves comfortable like they always did at Hogwarts.

“So what is all of this?”

“I’m here to help you,” Ron said, looking up at the dark sky as the rain began to fall. “You haven’t accepted my death yet and there’s a lot coming. Basically, I’m here to make you happy again.”

“I’m not sure I was ever happy,” Harry muttered. “And how can I ever accept that you’re gone? You’re not supposed to be dead. You’re supposed to be with me but now I’m alone.”

“Not as alone as you think you are,” Ron said. “Accept the others as they come. They’ll all help you in so many ways. And I will always be with you, even once these meetings end.”

“End?” Harry looked at him startled. He didn’t want the meetings to end. That would mean he’d never see Ron again. That couldn’t happen.

“We won’t be able to do this forever,” Ron said. “Like I said, this is only until you’re happy.”

“I won’t be without you.”

“We’ll see.”

They fell silent and sat watching the storm continue to grow.

Harry’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the extinguished fire that had been roaring some hours before. He was still comfortably ensconced in the thick blanket the professor had given him. He felt so warm and comfortable and safe. He didn’t want to leave the sofa, regardless of the fact that it was still Snape’s quarters. It was as though nothing could reach him there and he didn’t want to leave that. He didn’t want to face the day, the first full day he would have to get through without Ron. He couldn’t do it, not yet.

He continued to stare at the smoldering embers, wishing he could just leave everything behind for a while. He didn’t want to see everyone, see their sadness or anger. He didn’t want to see the pity or blame. He just wanted to figure out how to cope on his own.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter.”

Harry peeked over the blanket and the back of the sofa to see Snape had emerged from the bedroom. It was surreal to see Snape in anything other than his strict black teaching robes, but he was standing there in blue cotton pants and was tying a dark green robe shut. It was strange but oddly comforting to know there was truly an actual person under the harsh teacher disguise. Not that he didn’t already know that. He had been spending every week with the man for the last two months and things had changed. He was pretty sure the hatred between them was gone. Ron had been right. He and Snape were learning to at least tolerate each other.

He bit his lip as he thought of how the professor had treated him the previous night. He would never get to tell Ron how…kind and even caring Snape had been since Ron’s death. Ron had been so supportive of him and Snape getting along and now he’d never get to see it.

“Sleep well?” Snape said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.

“Under the circumstances,” Harry said with a nod.

“Good,” Snape said. “Would you care for some breakfast?”

Harry’s expression was full of surprise. He was sure the professor was acting oddly kind out of pity but Snape also didn’t seem like the type that would have pity for anyone. So, what exactly was going on? As he continued to think it over, he nodded to the professor.

“Yes, sir.”

Snape inclined his head. “Come along to the kitchen.”

Harry stood slowly, but eventually followed the professor into the kitchen. Snape motioned for him to sit and they both did so. After a few seconds, food appeared on the table the same way it did in the Great Hall. Harry looked at the options, feeling hungrier than he thought he would. He made himself wait, though, until the professor had filled his own plate, ensuring he did not forget such an important rule.

Snape, however, noticed the action and frowned. Deciding to test before speaking, he acted as though he had chosen all he wanted. After a few seconds the child finally began to fill his plate. Casually, Snape reached out and grabbed the bowl of fruit. As he expected, Potter instantly stopped serving himself until well after he had replaced the fruit bowl.

“Habit of yours?” he said casually as he began to eat.

The boy looked up at him, startled. “I-I don’t— “

“Calm down, Potter, I was simply inquiring,” Snape said and Harry blushed back down at his plate.

Harry poked at his food, wondering if he should say anything. Eventually he shrugged a shoulder and said, “Just something my relatives taught me. My uncle thought it respectful that I wait for them to serve themselves first.”

“I see,” Snape said, taking a bite of his breakfast. “Does your uncle have many rules?”

“A few,” Harry said vaguely.

Snape hummed and they continued to eat in a strangely comfortable silence. They had both finished eating by the time Snape spoke again.

“You do not have to concern yourself with going to the Tower or anywhere else for the next two days. I have already contacted the headmaster and Professor McGonagall and have informed them of your whereabouts and need for time. They completely understand but you are to discuss it with them if you feel you need more time away from the Tower or classes.”

“Oh, uh, thank you, sir,” Harry said, not expecting such a thing to be done for him, especially by Snape. “I was hoping I could stay away from the Tower for a little longer and everyone else. I can’t face anyone, not yet, not even Hermione.”

“Which is completely understandable and acceptable,” Snape said, bringing their dishes to the sink. “This is an extremely traumatic situation for you.”

Harry’s eyes burned as the image of Ron’s body entered his mind once again.

“You are welcome to stay here if you wish or you can find somewhere else you would like to stay.”

Harry sniffed and fought to keep his tears at bay. “I-I’d like to stay. Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded his head. “You may summon a house elf to retrieve anything from the Tower and you may read anything from the bookshelf in the sitting room.”

Harry nodded, trying but failing to smile. “Thank you.”

“I will be in my study, the door next to my bedroom, if you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that Snape left the kitchen for his study and Harry returned to the sitting room after getting himself a glass of water.

Harry stood at the door of the Potions office, contemplating what would be waiting for him outside the rooms he had found solace in for the last few days. He didn’t want to return to classes, to the students, to the Tower, but he knew he had to. He couldn’t hide in Snape’s rooms forever. He had to face it all sometime. Hiding didn’t change the fact that Ron was gone and the world was still spinning, life was still going on.

“Scared, Potter?” Snape said casually, coming up behind Harry. Harry briefly flashed back to second year and dueling Malfoy who said the exact same thing. Except Malfoy’s version had been cruel and taunting. Snape just sounded curious and possibly even a touch worried.

Harry snorted to himself. Like Snape would be worried about him. Their relationship hadn’t changed that much.

Had it?

“A little,” Harry finally admitted. “Although, I don’t know if it’s so much scared as it is…”

“Lost?” Snape suggested and Harry looked up at him, nodding. “I am sure you will find support somewhere. You have lost a dear friend but you are not alone. You still have many others.”

“Maybe. I haven’t been too popular since I became a Champion.”

“You’ll be surprised how much tragedy can bring people together,” Snape said and Harry found himself wondering, not for the first time, who the professor lost that had given him such experience in Harry’s situation. “You are close to being late. You should go.”

“Right.” Harry stopped with his hand on the door handle, a question forming in his mind. Would he ever be allowed back? Did he want to come back? Were their weekly meetings still on?

“Be here Thursday as usual unless you feel the need to come before then. You are welcome to hide down here.”

Harry smiled slightly at the offer and implication that he would need or want to hide. “Thank you, sir.”

Snape just inclined his head. “Go, Potter. Delaying will only make it harder.”

Harry nodded and finally walked out into the corridor. It was like a breath of fresh air as he hadn’t seen anything except Snape’s rooms for nearly four days. Not that he was complaining. He was grateful for the time to be alone and for Snape allowing him to stay, but it was nice to get out. He took a deep breath, hitched his bag that house elves had brought him onto his shoulder, and slowly walked out of the dungeons. It was still breakfast so mostly everyone was still in the Great Hall, allowing him to head to Charms with very little interaction. He received stares from the few students in the halls that were heading to class as well, but no one tried to speak to him.

He was relieved when he pushed open the Charms room door and found the classroom still empty. He quickly found his seat and dropped heavily in the chair. After steading his breathing and trying to rid his body of some tension, he pulled out his Charms book and began to read the next chapter to try get a head’s start on the next lesson.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before students began to shuffle in, each one stopping in the doorway to stare at him wide-eyed for a few moments. When Hermione appeared, he did his best to give her a smile but she just turned from him and sat in the seat right by the door and next to Parvati Patil. Harry frowned but didn’t have much time to dwell as Professor Flitwick first approached him with condolences and offers of extensions on assignments before beginning the lesson. Distracted, he failed to see the Slytherin that continued to watch him with grey eyes.

The same treatment continued throughout Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Defense, and even lunch. Everyone stared at him, giving him wide eyes with any number of emotions in them. Each professor offered him their sorrows over Ron and then provided him with the option of gaining extensions for his school work. Worst of all, Hermione continued to ignore him, never once sitting with him in classes and leaving him to sit alone except in Transfiguration where Neville sat with him, but only because he had no other choice.

When dinner time came, Harry dropped down at Gryffindor table and felt his heart break a little when each Gryffindor very obviously moved as far away as they could. He sighed sadly and poked at his fish, resting his head in his palm as he propped his elbow on the table. He didn’t notice when a handful of people were suddenly sitting around him.

“Hey, Harry.”

He looked up to find the Weasley twins, Lee Jordan, Neville, and Ravenclaw’s Luna Lovegood had joined him. They all looked extremely drawn, of course, but not nearly as destroyed as the twins. He was surprised they were still at Hogwarts as Ginny had gone back home for a while. They looked awful, like they hadn’t slept or stopped crying for days. He probably wasn’t far off.

“How are you?” Neville asked.

“As well as I can be, I suppose,” Harry said with a small shrug.

“Where have you been staying?” Lee said.

“With Snape actually,” Harry said, noting their surprised looks. “He was actually really great. He helped a lot.”

“He’s not so bad,” George said quietly.

Harry nodded slowly. “Ron was seeing that even before me.” A brief silence fell. “I’m so sorry about Ron. I can’t even imagine what this must be like for you.” He bit his lip in a futile attempt to stop his coming tears.

“Sure you can,” Fred said.

“He was your brother too,” George said quietly and Harry’s resolve broke, tears pouring down his face and sobs bubbling out.

He tried to keep quiet, remembering he was still in the Great Hall surrounded by students and staff. His attempts were failing, however, as he buried his face in his hands, vaguely feeling the hands placed on his back. Images of Ron flashed through his mind, making him break down further. Though he was almost completely disjointed from himself he still managed to tune into the new voice.

“Follow me.”

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he heard Fred say.

Malfoy was there? How humiliating.

“Thought I’d give you somewhere to go so you can grieve alone rather than having the entire Hogwarts population watch.”

“Let’s go,” Harry choked out and, after a few moments, Harry, the twins, Neville, Lee, and Luna stood to follow Malfoy out of the Hall. They walked for a while, heading to the seventh floor where Malfoy eventually stopped them to pace in front of an empty wall. Slowly a door materialized in the stone, stunning Malfoy’s companions.

“C’mon,” Malfoy said quietly and entered the room, the others slower to follow.

They found themselves entering a cozy little sitting room. The floor was carpeted with a deep auburn carpet. A large poufy sofa sat in front of the small fireplace, the sofa a calming navy blue. In another corner, a few blue lounge chairs made a circle in front of a large window that showed a view of the Quidditch Pitch. It was really a tiny room, but it was also comfortable.

“Welcome to the Room of Requirement,” Malfoy said.

“That’s what this is?” Fred said, shocked. Malfoy nodded.

“We’ve always looked for this place,” George said.

“I know some things,” Malfoy said with a shrug.

“What is this place?” Harry asked quietly.

“Room of Requirement,” Malfoy said. “Gives you anything you need. Just pace three times in front of the wall, thinking hard about what you need. Now you can use it whenever the Astronomy Tower isn’t available.”

With a small smile, Malfoy left the room, ignoring their calls for him to stay. Confused about the young Malfoy’s actions, the six of them eventually spread out, varying between sitting in silence and quietly talking.

Harry entered the Great Hall again a couple days later, determined to talk to Hermione who had continued to ignore him. The First Task was only days away and he wanted the support of his friends especially now he didn’t have Ron. He didn’t have much left without Ron. He quickly spotted Hermione sitting at the closest end of Gryffindor table with Ginny and made his way over.

“Hermione.”

“Go away,” Ginny spat. He didn’t miss how red and dull her eyes were. His chest ached at the sight. “We don’t want to talk to you.”

“Hermione,” he repeated.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Ginny said, glaring at him.

Harry ignored her. “You can’t even talk to me yourself? You have to have Ginny do it?” He didn’t react to the noise of protest and angry look that came from Ginny. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because it’s your fault!” Hermione finally shouted brokenly, swinging around to face him and getting to her feet. Harry’s eyes widened at the sudden outburst. “You are the reason Ron’s dead! He was with you! You-Know-Who is after you so his Death Eaters are too! They attacked the village to get you! You killed him! You killed him!”

Harry took a step back, staring at Hermione’s angry, tear-streaked face. He felt his eyes burn. Tears were on their way and his heart pounded painfully as he took her blame.

Her face suddenly hardened and the look in her eyes behind the tears was pure hatred. “It should’ve been you. I hope this tournament is your death,” she said quietly but still loud enough for the entire silent Hall to hear.

As Harry stood frozen in shock and internal agony, Ginny rose and, with a hateful glare of her own, led Hermione out of the Great Hall. Silence reigned for a few moments as everyone stared at the shattering Boy Who Lived. Soon, though, noise started up and Harry was anguished to realize the shouts were students agreeing with all Hermione had said.

Their comments swirled around his head and their furious, hateful glares were burned into his eyes. He felt the tears begin to finally pour down his face. More shouts joined in and he tuned in just enough to hear the new noise was defending him. However, the side agreeing with Hermione remained louder and he couldn’t help but hear all they said.

“Your fault!”

“You killed your best friend!”

“It should have been you!”

“You should’ve died!”

“No one wants you!”

“It should’ve been you!”

It should’ve been me. The single sentence flew around his head.

Through the tears, his eyes found their way to the staff table. McGonagall had a hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide, like Flitwick’s. Moody was staring hard at him with both eyes, bringing about the unease again. Hagrid’s face was full of pain and he had a couple tears on his cheeks. Dumbledore, like Moody, was just staring at him with a hard expression. There was no twinkle in his eye and his lips were pressed thin with some kind of emotion. Karkaroff was sneering but there was also a small smirk in it.

He finally found Snape. He was unreadable as always but he was staring at Harry as well. Snape’s face was tight but the black eyes were different. There was no rage, no disgust, no hatred. There was something else but Harry found he was no closer to identifying it. He registered the nearly imperceptible nod Snape gave and it made him finally turn to leave the Hall. He pushed through the door and it was only once he was gone that he heard Dumbledore finally order silence.

Sniffing and his heart breaking, he slowly walked into the dungeons. He navigated the corridors, passing the Slytherin common room. A sob fell out as the memory of their Polyjuice foray into Slytherin territory in second year made an appearance in his mind. More tears fell and he pushed on, crossing his arms tight across his chest as though he would fall apart.

They didn’t have a meeting that evening. It was only Tuesday. However, he had said Harry could come back before Thursday and there was his little nod in the Great Hall. Would he even be there yet? He was still in the Hall when Harry left.

His musings were answered when the office door opened, revealing Snape. “Come in,” the Potions master said quietly.

Harry walked into the rooms and sat once again. While it wasn’t officially a meeting, they both wondered if the meetings were even effective, if they had any use or validity at all. He, however, was beginning to like them a bit. They were becoming an outlet and escape.

“How are you?” the professor asked.

Harry blinked at the fire.

“She hates me.”

There was a brief silence.

“She is grieving,” Snape said. “If she had truly been a friend, she would not have said such things and would not be using you as an outlet for her grief.”

“She’s not wrong.”

Snape looked at him sharply.

“It is my fault,” Harry said. “The Death Eaters were there for me; they’ll always be after me. He died because he was my friend and with me. I killed him.”

His crying increased. The ache in his chest eased slightly only to be replaced by dullness and emptiness.

“It was not your fault, Potter,” Snape said. “It was an unfortunate tragedy. He could’ve died no matter what because he was in the village during the attack.”

“They wouldn’t have attacked if it weren’t for me. They’re after me. I should’ve died on Halloween then Ron would still be alive.”

“Potter.”

Harry looked at him with a heartbroken sardonic expression. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m not suicidal. Contrary to popular belief and everything I have gotten myself into, I don’t actually want to die.”

“This was not your fault and no one has a right to blame you,” Snape said. “You deserve to be alive.”

“I might not be for long, not with this tournament,” Harry said, wiping away some tears. He stared down at his hands. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to survive. Maybe it’s best I don’t, given how Hermione and everyone else are thinking of me.”

“You just told me you did not want to die.”

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t,” Harry said. “Nothing but bad things have happened since I started Hogwarts. So many students have been hurt. Maybe it’s better I just disappear. No one wants me around anyways.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Snape said. “There will be some that still support you. You simply have to find them.”

Harry huffed. “You were in the Great Hall, sir. You saw what happened.”

“Dimwitted pack mentality,” Snape said dryly, gaining a small snort of amusement. The professor sighed as he regarded his distressed—no, depressed—student. While he knew the boy still had a few friends, nothing would replace the loss of Granger and especially Weasley. The boy really didn’t have anyone and that would not help stop his downward spiral into depression.

He took a deep breath, aware he was breaking many rules. “Potter, I am going to help you through this and the tournament. You will survive.”

“Sir?” Harry said in surprise, not expecting the determination in his professor’s voice.

“You can tell no one you know or that I told you this, understood?” Harry nodded, staring at Snape intently. “In the First Task, you must battle a dragon.”

Silence.

Harry blinked slowly, comprehending. “A…dragon?”

Snape nodded, folding his hands together. “You are required to retrieve an egg from a nesting mother.”

Harry stared at his professor for another long while. He had to fight a dragon? At fourteen? How was he supposed to do that? He had no one to help him. Ron would’ve helped come up with a plan. Not a good plan, by any means, but that’s when Hermione would’ve stepped in with a real plan and then helped him prepare. But he had neither of them. They were the only reason he had survived anything the last three years. He didn’t think about anything, he just jumped in. He wasn’t powerful. He knew nothing about magic. He didn’t know how to plan. He didn’t know how to fight. He wasn’t even smart!

Tears filled his eyes once more at the thought of his lost friends. He needed them so much. He had no one.

“Potter?” Snape said, startled at the rapid appearance of tears in the boy’s eyes.

A couple tears fell. “How am I supposed to defeat a dragon? I can’t even perform a Summoning Charm!” He proceeded to bury his face in his hands as more tears fell and his shoulders shook.

Snape looked at the sobbing boy, unsure. While their relationship had clearly improved a little since the start of the year, they still weren’t on the best terms. They still had a lot of history, they both had secrets, they both had tempers, they were both stubborn. They clashed in all the worst ways and it would take more than a few weekly meetings to mend it all.

As such, Snape really wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t expected the revelation to drive Potter to tears, though maybe he should have with how unstable the child was since Weasley’s death. How was he to approach this? The grief was easy. Like him, Potter didn’t like to talk while grieving so he knew he could just be silent company. This, however, he knew the boy needed something.

“I don’t want to die,” Harry suddenly whispered and Snape’s stare hardened.

“Potter, you are not going to die,” he said firmly. “You will do this task, this tournament, and you will survive.”

The boy raised his teary eyes. “How? How am I supposed to do this at fourteen with no one? I don’t know enough; I’m not good enough.”

“I never want to hear that again, understand?” Snape said sharply. “You are good enough. You have talent, you simply have to utilize it to your advantage in the situation.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Harry said, wiping away another tear.

“Think of what you are good at and find a way to use it,” Snape said. “I will help you once you have a plan.”

“Really?” Harry said, shocked as he wiped at another tear.

Snape nodded. “I will ensure you survive this.”

Harry swallowed thickly, filled with all kinds of swirling emotions. “Thank you, sir,” he finally said quietly.

Snape inclined his head in response. “Now, I want you to go and think about what you may be able to do. Come to me when you think you have a solid idea. Remember, tell no one I told you about the dragons.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said and left the man’s rooms.

He paused in the corridor, contemplating. He didn’t want to go to Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t ready to face them all after what happened in the Great Hall. He should really do what Snape said and try to formulate a plan for the First Task. Knowing more about dragons could help as well. With that thought, he decided to go to the library.

He walked through the dungeon corridors and then up the Grand Staircase to the library. He was a corner away when he found himself being yanked into an alcove. He immediately went for his wand but quickly found his wrists tightly grasped by one large, scarred hand. He finally looked into the face, relaxing only minutely when he recognized Professor Moody. His stomach jumped and twisted at his proximity to the strange man. He frowned slightly as he took notice of a strange tick in which the man’s tongue poked out every few seconds. Did he normally have such a behaviour?

“What do you plan to do about your dragon, Potter?” Moody said and Harry’s frown deepened.

“My…what?” How did Moody know he knew about the dragons? He had only just found out.

“Your dragon, boy, the First Task,” Moody said, finally releasing Harry’s hands. “You’ve got a plan, don’t ch’a? The others do.”

“The others know too?” Harry said.

“Sure do. You’re late to the party,” Moody said, clapping him on the shoulder. “So, what’s your plan?”

“I-I don’t have one,” Harry said. “I don’t know what to do.”

Moody growled, his tongue continuing to dart out. “C’mon, boy, think! What’re you good at? What’re some of your skills? Transfiguration, Charms, curses?”

“No, none of those,” Harry said, shaken by the need to suddenly figure it all out instantly. “I don’t know! I can fly.”

“Damn well from what I hear,” Moody said, both his eyes looking at Harry earnestly.

“I don’t understand. How does that help me with a dragon?”

“You tell me.”

Harry frowned, his eyebrows coming together.

“Good luck, Potter,” Moody said and he suddenly clunked his way away from the alcove.

What was Moody trying to say?

The Auror was so odd and he did not like the feeling he got every time he was close to the man. He slid out of the alcove and bit his lip, wondering what to do. He wanted to continue to the library but he had a very small voice that was telling him to go to Snape.

He frowned at himself. What would he go to Snape for?

Tell him about Moody, the feelings you have around him, the little voice said. It had become clear, so clear that he actually spun around looking for Ron. His eyes watered as he realized when he was doing. He shook his head, blinking rapidly to clear the tears.

Getting control of himself, he headed into the library, deciding he’d rather have some quiet to contemplate things before having a big, uncomfortable discussion with Snape. He headed down one of the aisles, not immediately realizing that he was nowhere near the section on dragons. Instead he found himself at the back with books about magical wounds and scars. He blinked in slight surprise. Shrugging, he pulled a few down, including a book on other kinds of magical markings, and grabbed an empty table.

He flipped through the first couple, quickly finding they had nothing useful. The third, however, was a different story and he was soon reading a section.

All magic leaves behind a magical residue and it is within this residue that one’s magical signature can be found. Magical residue allows for the tracking of a spell and also the determination of what was cast and how strong it was. When applying magical residue to an injury, however, it becomes more complicated as magical residue does not tend to attach itself to a living being.

This does not mean it is impossible. It has happened in rare occasions. When magical residue attaches to a living being, it is most commonly after an extremely traumatic and violent exercise of magic that causes bodily harm, whether to the caster or a victim. In such a case, the residue becomes more palpable, acquiring some of the strong magical qualities of the caster. The magical residue latches onto an injury in an attempt to continue the initial and intended curse, to make the injury worse.

Some wizards who have had magical residue attach to them have experienced pain in a scar that is years old. Once attached, the magical residue becomes something physical within the human host, usually in the form of some sort of external scar. Magical residue can be removed but only with the use of an extremely complex potion and a mix of intricate spell work.

One must evaluate all possibilities behind a pained scar as a transfer and attachment of a soul fragment may be another possibility.

Consult Demeter Mulligan’s The Soul Fragment for further information.

“Soul fragments?” Harry muttered to himself, frowning.

It was possible to break a soul? How was such a thing done? Why would anyone do it?

Making a quick decision, he left the table and began to search for Mulligan’s book. He went up and down each aisle, looking carefully. As he got further and further, he felt his heart drop, thinking the book was not to be found. However, after a few more aisles, he managed to spot it on a top shelf, the silver letters of the title shining. He raised a hand and focused on the book, causing it to float casually down to him.

There was nothing to the cover. It was black. The title was in big block silver letters across the center. Demeter Mulligan’s name was in neat silver script at the very bottom, also centered. It was a fairly thick book and Harry wasn’t sure how to feel about there being so much information on such a topic.

Holding the book tightly, he hurried back to his table and sat down. He ran a hand over the cover, pushing the other books aside.

“Hey, Potter.”

Harry looked up, scowling at the approaching Malfoy. The Slytherin leaned on the back of a chair across the table from Harry and glanced down at the books. He raised his head with an eyebrow raised and a smirk.

“Extra credit?”

“Personal,” Harry shot back. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“To make sure you don’t die like an idiot next week,” the blonde said.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “The dragons, you moron. I’m here to give you your solution.”

“How do you know about the dragons?”

“Diggory and the half-giant aren’t exactly quiet. Diggory doesn’t know how to whisper and the half-giant just likes to brag, particularly to the Beauxbatons giant.”

Unwillingly, Harry shuddered alongside the Malfoy heir at the idea.

“So what’s this genius plan of yours?” Harry snapped sarcastically.

“Actually it’s just the final step to the plan you’ve already been fed by the lunatic Moody,” Malfoy said. “Honestly, can you do nothing on your own?”

Harry glared. “Tell me already or leave.”

Malfoy sighed dramatically. “Fine. You plan to use your broom, right?”

“Uh…”

“Great,” Malfoy interrupted. “You’re only allowed to bring your wand so summon your broom.”

Harry blinked. “I can do that?”

“If you learn how to do the Summoning Charm in five days, then yes, you can do that.”

Harry groaned internally. The Summoning Charm just happened to be the spell he was not catching onto easily.

He narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because there are some people that will be very upset if you’re mauled by a dragon.” With that, Malfoy pushed off the chair and began to walk away, but he stopped after a few steps. “By the way, I’m truly sorry about Ron.”

Harry stared in a mixture of confusion and surprise as Malfoy walked away, wondering if Malfoy had ever called Ron by his name before.

Dear Sirius,

I don’t know if you’ve been getting my letters or not. I’ve sent a few now but I haven’t heard anything so I don’t know if Hedwig hasn’t been able to find you or if she’s been getting intercepted. I’ll try again and I hope to hear from you soon. A lot has been happening since my last letter.

The Triwizard Tournament is happening this year, I think I’ve already mentioned that. Well, what I haven’t told you is that I’m a Champion. Somehow, someone put my name in and I was chosen. I have to compete and I am so scared, Sirius. This has to be the most dangerous thing I’ve ever gotten myself into since I started school.

I’ve got some help though. The twins and Neville are being really helpful and supportive, which is more than I can say for pretty much everyone else. Oddly, Draco Malfoy has helped a little bit too. He’s changed this year, especially since…

Right, I haven’t told you yet. I don’t know if it’s been in the Prophet or not. In any case, you should know. A couple weeks ago there was a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade. Ron was killed. It’s been really hard and I miss him so much. It’s been even harder because Hermione blames me, a lot of people do. Sometimes I think they’re right, but Professor Snape’s helped with that.

I know you don’t like him but he’s actually been a lot of help since Ron died. He’s helping me with the tournament too. We still don’t get along all that well but it’s something and he really has been pretty great actually. Trust me, I’m surprised too. I never would’ve expected him to be on my side and helping.

I have to go. It’s Ron’s funeral today.

I hope this reaches you and that you’re okay. Answer soon.

Harry 

He folded the paper, ignoring the couple of smudges from his few tears when he wrote about Ron. He was sure Sirius wouldn’t be happy hearing about his interactions with Snape or even Malfoy, but he felt they were important. Things were changing in his relationships with the two Slytherins and he wasn’t hating the changes. They were surreal, for sure, but it was all kind of…comforting.

“Harry.” He looked up to see Fred and George in the dorm door, serious and dressed in somber black. “Time to go.”

Ron’s funeral was finally being held after two weeks. Apparently, the wait had been because of Mrs. Weasley who, in her despair, had been refusing to have the memorial service. Based on that, Harry was sure the entire thing was Mr. Weasley’s doing.

He put his letter aside and followed the twins, straightening the black jacket Professor Snape had lent him. They joined the crowd moving through the Entrance Hall, all heading outside where the funeral was taking place. There was no casket as Ron’s body had been brought back to the Burrow to be buried in the family plot. Instead there were about half a dozen pictures around the podium where speeches would be given. Hundreds of chairs had been set up by the large oak tree at the Black Lake’s edge and the grounds were full of people. He was glad they were having the service outside. Ron would’ve hated a stuffy, inside affair.

He sat in the second row behind the entire Weasley clan, beside Neville, and a few seats to the right of Hermione. He and Neville gave each other sad smiles. Harry looked to his right at the other area of seats. They were filling up with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. He found his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when, at the very back of the seats, he spotted Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing silently and watching the proceedings. He was surprised they had been let onto the grounds, let alone that they had come to the funeral at all.

Like everyone, as Harry was discovering, maybe the Malfoys needed a second look, maybe they weren’t what he had thought they were the last few years. He turned back when Dumbledore began to speak.

It was a touching event. Dumbledore gave a great speech that was followed by professors, a few students, and Mr. Weasley. Mostly everyone shed at least a few tears. By the end, each Weasley, Hermione, Harry, and most of Gryffindor house were crying steadily. Most expected Harry to say something but he refused. Between the anger over him being a Champion and those that blamed him for Ron’s death, he knew he wouldn’t be well received. Plus, he wanted to keep his memories of Ron between him and Ron as they were meant to be.

After some time, the service came to an end and everyone began to slowly move about. Harry stood and took a few steps only to stop and watch as Malfoy approached his parents. He had no idea what was being said but at one point Narcissa dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, Lucius put a hand on his son’s shoulder, and Draco’s hand appeared to wipe at his eyes. Harry blushed and looked away when Lucius suddenly met his eyes.

He was about to continue on his way when suddenly Mrs. Weasley appeared in front of him. His heart and stomach lurched at the sight of her. He was sure he had never seen anyone look so haunted and destroyed. She looked worse than Sirius had in that horrible mug shot in the Prophet last year. He was about to speak when his cheek was struck hard. His head remained to the side for a few seconds, his cheek stinging as he processed just what had taken place.

Tears filled his eyes and he turned his head to look at her again only to be struck once more. The tears spilled over as he found hands gently landing on his shoulders and pulling him back away from Mrs. Weasley, and against a solid chest. He glanced up at Snape and back to Mrs. Weasley who was being restrained and led away by Mr. Weasley and Charlie.

“Thank you for coming, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said quietly. “We know how much you must miss Ron. You were a great friend to him.”

“He was the best,” Harry whispered.

Mr. Weasley’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile before he turned to follow his wife and second oldest. Harry felt a gentle tug on his shoulders and he allowed himself to be led through the crowds by the professor. He instantly blocked everything out though he was vaguely aware of Snape talking to someone and fingers ghosting over his hand. Soon they were back inside the castle and then he was being pushed into the usual chair. His gaze dropped to his lap as the sudden silence caused his focus to go to his burning cheek. He just sighed sadly, keeping his eyes down.

He hardly reacted when Snape knelt in front of him and pressed a nice, cool cloth to his cheek, easing the sting. The gesture and quiet gave him a moment to realize how far things really had come. There would’ve been a time not too long ago when he would’ve taken every movement from Snape as a threat. Now he accepted the man’s help almost without question.

“It is not your fault,” Snape interrupted quietly, still holding the cloth against Harry’s cheek.

Harry met the dark eyes. They used to seem so harsh, angry, heartless, hateful…but they weren’t. They were calm, calculated, and other things he didn’t wish to name in case he was embarrassingly wrong. Whatever it all was, it was not the Snape he recalled dealing with in previous years. Something great had changed.

“I know,” he finally said and, as their eyes remained locked, they both knew something monumental had shifted in their relationship.

Harry growled loudly in frustration and threw his wand on the floor, dropping down beside it. The First Task was the next day and he was still failing miserably at the Summoning Charm. The twins, Neville, Lee, and even Malfoy had been trying to help him with it alongside Snape. Despite the help and practicing every spare moment, he still had yet to succeed in summoning a pillow from across the room, let alone his broom from Gryffindor Tower to the Quidditch Pitch. He ran his hands through his hair angrily, tugging slightly.

“What do you expect to accomplish down there?” Snape drawled and Harry glared at him. Some things between them had changed, yes, but Snape’s prickly personality and sharp tongue were not among them.

“Invisibility,” Harry spat. “Maybe I don’t have to compete if they can’t find me.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “You’ll need that cloak of yours to accomplish that.” Harry glared again. “If you are going to be forced to compete, why not attempt to do well?”

“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing with this stupid charm?” Harry said. “Besides, I’m more focused on staying alive than scoring big points.”

“A focus that may not amount to much if you do not learn this charm.”

“I’m trying!” Harry yelled and then sighed at the man’s sharp look. “I’m sorry but I really am trying. I just can’t seem to get it.”

Snape sighed himself. “Up. You won’t be any closer to getting it by sitting down there pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” Harry said even as he grabbed his wand and got to his feet.

“I assure you, you are,” Snape said, moving to stand behind the young Gryffindor. “Now practice the wand movement a few times.”

Harry nodded and did so, moving his wand in the correct way over and over.

“Take a deep breath, relax.”

Harry did, closing his eyes briefly.

“Picture what you want, your intention, think of it clearly.”

Taking even, steady breaths, Harry pictured the pillow soaring towards him and put the image on repeat. Keeping the scene in his head, he focused on the pillow.

“Accio pillow!” he said, waving his wand.

Nothing happened. He felt his frustration rise again, but pushed it down, keeping his focus. He took a few breaths to calm himself.

You can do it, mate.

“Accio pillow!” he said again and was shocked when he found himself having to catch the pillow before it hit him in the face. He stared at the pillow for a few moments before turning to look at Snape.

There was unmistakable approval in the man’s dark eyes and Harry found himself smiling.

“I heard Ron,” he admitted.

Snape hummed. “Still assisting you, I see.”

Harry smiled at him and nodded, his eyes slightly damp.

“Good. Now see if he’ll help you again.”

Harry chuckled and tossed the pillow back to where it had been. He readied himself again, regaining focus.

With a breath, he said, “Accio pillow!” and had to catch it again.

Snape’s lips twitched and tilted into what Harry knew was the man’s smile.

And so, Harry remained in Snape’s guest bedroom, summoning pillows, books, and even the man’s cloak to ensure he had the charm perfected.

He just hoped he would be able to make it work over a long distance.

Harry watched as the stands filled with the spectators of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. He heard distant roars and knew it was the dragons. He sighed and stepped into the champions’ tent. The others were already there along with Barty Crouch who was talking in hushed tones with Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. He walked over to stand next to Cedric who gave him a small smile and nod of acknowledgement and luck.

There was no time to talk, however, as Crouch and the school heads came over, arranging the four champions into a circle. Crouch then went around with a small bag and they all chose their dragons, the lack of reactions reminding Harry that the others had already known what the First Task would be as well.

Harry’s eyes fell shut and his heart pounded painfully when the Hungarian Horntail landed in his hand. He had talked to Hagrid about dragons to gain more information and Hagrid, with no filter, naturally told Harry about the exact dragons being used in the task, ensuring he repeated just how dangerous the Horntail was compared to nearly all others. It should not have surprised him that he got the Horntail, not with his luck. His hope of survival had just severely dropped. He watched as all the heads left, noting that he never received even a glance from Dumbledore. Cedric approached the field entrance as the first champion to fight. Harry jumped at the cannon fire and, while he hoped for the success and safety of the others, also hoped that it would be a while before he went as he was to go last.

However, his turn came quicker than he’d hoped and he soon found himself stepping out into the field. He moved slowly, getting a look at his terrain and also hoping to spot his vicious opponent. Cheers around him eventually ceased, relieving him of the distraction. He looked up briefly, first spotting the twins among the Gryffindors, Malfoy in the Slytherins, and Snape with the staff. He felt his heart pound again as he recognized worry in the man’s eyes and even spotted fear in Malfoy’s face. The expressions gave Harry mixed feelings. He felt warm realizing there was an adult who cared at least a tiny bit about him. The looks confused him as well because he never would’ve taken Snape or Malfoy as the types to really care, especially not about him. Last, the expressions terrified him because he knew, normally, Snape would never let any amount of worry show.

He lost his time to consider it all any longer as screams suddenly erupted in the stands and he found himself being thrown through the air by a spiked tail. He landed on a far boulder hard, feeling his shoulder crunch slightly at the impact.

He just knew he would hear about that later from Snape and Moody for not being aware of his surroundings.

He looked up and found he was staring into the murderous eyes of his Hungarian Horntail. She was crouched low over her eggs, hiding them from the threat she perceived. His eyes widened and he scrambled up and behind the boulder as the dragon’s mouth opened. He knew exactly what was coming and winced as the boulder seared against his back. He dove forward when the tail came around and shattered his shield.

Seeing fire was coming his way again, he clambered to his feet and raced away, sliding down a small embankment as flames flew over his head. He remained still in his new but still temporary hiding place, trying to catch his breath and steady his fear-ridden heart.

He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea how he was supposed to do this and survive. He was fourteen! He had just learned a Summoning Charm—finally—barely twenty-four hours ago, and he was supposed to outsmart or defeat a dragon?

Wand, Harry!

He glanced up even as he knew the voice was in his head and, for a moment, he could’ve sworn he saw Ron in the front of the Gryffindor stands.

Right.

He had just learned the Summoning Charm and he had done so for this specifically. He pulled out his wand and pointed in the general direction of the school.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Accio Firebolt!”

He put his wand away and pressed himself against the small slope behind him, feeling it shake as the dragon searched for him, letting out menacing roars.

“Look out!”

Several shouts shook him and he looked over just in time to see the Horntail peek around a giant boulder. He ducked and rolled as fire flew at him once again. It was as he was getting up that he spotted his broom zooming over the staff stands. He pushed to his feet, climbed onto a boulder, and jumped off right over top of the dragon, landing perfectly on his broom. He zipped around as her tail and fire followed him almost relentlessly. Despite her best, desperate efforts to burn him alive, she remained crouched over her nest. He thought fast and knew he would have to expect a hefty lecture from Snape for this.

With another deep breath, he flew lower and approached the Horntail’s face. He quickly pulled his wand again and hit the beast in the eye with a Stinging Hex. It roared, sending an unintentional ball of fire in his direction, but it had the desired effect and he took off with the dragon and its broken chain behind him.

They left the field and wound through the castle, taking out stone, shingles, statues, and even a few windows. Receiving a sharp hit on his arm with the tail, he flew off and nearly lost his grip on his broom, making him think he would be joining the crashed dragon in the lake. However, reminiscent of his quick moves in both first and second year when he almost fell off his broom, he swung himself up and headed, painfully, back to the transformed Quidditch Pitch.

Once there, he dismounted, fell to his knees in residual fear, relief, and pain, and simply rolled the golden egg towards him with his uninjured arm. He heard the cheers of the spectators and could hear the judge and announcer, Ludo Bagman speaking, but heard no specific words. He cared about nothing except that he was done and had survived.

Harry sighed tiredly as he awaited Madam Pomfrey’s treatment inside the medical tent. She was currently readying all she needed to treat the most injured champion, Cedric Diggory. While Harry just had a badly wrenched shoulder, several cuts, and very minor burns on his back, Cedric’s entire left side had received nasty burns. Even Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons only had a gash on her arm and Viktor Krum from Durmstrang had escaped unscathed.

He looked around at the others as he waited, feeling small pangs in his chest. As Fleur waited, her little sister had joined her, helping her pass the time and ensuring her older sister was alright. Beside him, Cedric’s father was with his son. He couldn’t hear what they were saying perfectly but, from what he did get, his father was beyond proud and loved Cedric so much.

He frowned sadly. There would’ve been a time when Ron and Hermione would’ve fought their way into the tent to be with him. Now…he sat alone. He had no one to sit with him and tell him they were proud or worry over his injuries. He couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius would be there with him if the man wasn’t on the run. Last year, he would’ve thought there wouldn’t be a doubt that Sirius would be there. Now, however, after all the unanswered letters, he wasn’t so sure.

So, he found himself very surprised when his curtain was pulled back and Draco Malfoy was standing there.

“What’re you doing here?” Harry said, frowning.

Malfoy shrugged. “Seeing if you were still alive. Knowing you, you would’ve survived a great dragon only to trip on a rock and crack your head open.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed but then he recognized the amusement in Malfoy’s face, and he gave a small smile. “Have to make sure I die stupidly so everyone remembers that the ‘Boy Who Lived’ was a total klutz.”

Malfoy smirked. “That’s a given if anyone’s ever seen you fly.”

“Like you’re any better. Second year ringing any bells?”

Malfoy scowled half-heartedly. “That Bludger was cursed and after you.”

Harry chuckled. “Cursed by your old house elf.”

“That you tricked my father into freeing.”

Harry shrugged his uninjured shoulder, still smiling. “I wasn’t his biggest fan.”

“No one is,” Malfoy said and they both laughed.

“Alright, Mr. Potter, finally your turn,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming to his side.

“See you later, Potter,” Malfoy said and headed out.

“Malfoy,” Harry said before he left and the Slytherin turned around. “Thanks.”

Malfoy just gave a half smile and left.

Harry sat, gritting his teeth as Pomfrey forced his pained shoulder to move and hissed when she examined his burnt back. Though quite distracted, he still found he stared in shock when Snape came to his side.

“You’re here,” he said dumbly and Snape raised an eyebrow. He blushed and stuttered, “I-I mean, o-obviously you’re here. I mean, why, er, y-you don’t—“

“Ensuring you are not too badly injured after your stunts,” Snape interrupted.

“Stunts?” Harry repeated, outraged. He had been trying to stay alive!

“Losing focus and letting the dragon hit you. Getting burnt. Jumping over the dragon onto your broom. Taunting it. Allowing it to chase you and nearly bring you into the lake.” Snape paused and looked at his student’s blush. “Yes, Mr. Potter, stunts.”

“Well, I finished the task,” Harry argued weakly, “and I’m still alive.”

“Indeed you are as, in spite of all of your stunts,” Snape trailed off again for a moment, “it was well done.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he gazed after the professor as the man headed out of the medical tent.

“See you tomorrow evening, Mr. Potter,” he said before disappearing outside.

Harry sighed as he sat at his empty desk in Defense. He pulled out his book and casually flipped through, his mind torn between the other book sitting in his bag and the mysterious golden egg in his dorm. If he had expected the egg to give all the answers to the Second Task, he had been horribly wrong as all it did was emit an ear-piercing screech when opened. He and Gryffindor house had not been impressed. As soon as he had returned to the Tower after the First Task, it was as though the last three months hadn’t happened. All the Gryffindors were now cheering for him and were now encouraging him to do well in the coming tasks.

He glanced over at Hermione. Well, not everyone.

He couldn’t help but shake his head at these people. They tried to call themselves friends but they turned around and hated him in seconds then supported him again. This was not friendship and he once again wished he still had Ron with him.

“Quiet!”

He looked up and closed his book when Moody hobbled up to the front.

“The Unforgiveables,” Moody snapped, writing the word messily in chalk on the board. “How many are there?”

Naturally, Hermione’s hand was in the air but Moody ignored her until Seamus’ hand joined hers.

“Yes?” Moody barked, gesturing at the Irish boy.

“Three, sir,” Seamus said.

“Three!” Moody shouted, making a few people jump. He put a one, two, and three in a vertical row and under ‘Unforgiveables’. “Why are they called such?”

He ignored Hermione, waiting for someone else. It took several seconds but eventually a Slytherin girl slowly raised her hand and Moody called on her.

“Because they can’t be forgiven, they are the most extreme magic, the worst of magic,” the girl said quietly.

“Right!” Moody said and Harry couldn’t help but wonder why the man was always on the verge of yelling. “If you use any of these curses, you go straight to Azkaban.”

Harry blinked in surprise. There were really spells bad enough to send you to Azkaban?

The Killing Curse that killed your parents that you survived, Ron’s voice in his head said. His hand drifted up to his scar briefly.

“Malfoy!” Moody shouted. “Give us one of these curses.”

Malfoy glared at the old Auror and, after a moment, said, “The Imperius Curse.”

Harry watched as a small amount of colour entered Malfoy’s cheeks even as the Slytherin continued to glare at Moody. He frowned, wondering what the interaction was about. After a few seconds, Moody turned and hobbled to his desk, pulling a large spider out of a jar. He made it grow even more and whispered, “Imperio.”

The spider jerked and then, all of a sudden, it started to move with Moody’s wand. It hopped off the man’s hand and hopped from one end of the desk to the other. It then stopped and began to spin in a circle before flattening on the desk. With a flick of his wand, Moody sent the spider flying to Malfoy’s desk. Once there it slowly walked on and up the boy’s arm.

Harry could see he was trying not to react, keeping his eyes on Moody. Glancing back at the man, Harry noticed the small smirk on the disfigured face and he felt his stomach jump again.

“The Imperius Curse,” Moody said, moving the spider back to his desk. “Can make someone do anything you want them to. Many followers of the Dark Lord claimed to be under this curse but it is impossible to know if they are telling the truth.”

Dark Lord? Harry thought to himself. Not the usual way of referring to Voldemort.

“Another!” Moody yelled in opposition to the quiet tone he had previously used. Astonishingly, Neville’s hand very slowly rose. “Longbottom!”

Harry saw Neville swallow thickly and he had a strange expression on his face. “The Cruciatus Curse,” he finally said quietly, almost sadly.

“Yes,” Moody mumbled and added louder, “The Torture Curse.”

He grabbed the spider and walked over to Neville’s desk, one row over from Harry and one desk behind. Harry turned to look. Hermione was at the same desk and he was sure he could see tears in her eyes. Moody put the spider down directly in front of Neville who looked almost scared at this point.

Moody raised his wand at the spider again and said, “Crucio.”

The spider began to twist and contort while letting out an unearthly screech of complete agony. Harry winced at the sight and sound, and felt a jolt through his body at the mere idea of using or being under the curse. He glanced at Neville and was shocked to see the look of pure pain on the boy’s face, as though Neville himself was under the curse. The other boy was cringing, he was starting to sweat, and Harry could swear he heard a quiet whimper come from the other Gryffindor.

“Stop it!” Hermione suddenly shouted, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “It’s bothering him! Stop it!”

Harry was greatly disturbed to see Moody had been smirking again as he used the curse. With a glance at Hermione’s horrified, angry face, Moody finally cut the spell.

“The Torture Curse,” Moody said again. “A common tool of the Dark Lord’s and his followers. There was once a time, a very long time ago, that our very own Ministry would use this curse in interrogations. Of course, it is no longer used. Prolonged exposure can cause insanity and even death.”

The class was silent with a mix of curiosity and horror. Dumbledore could not have possibly approved the use of these curses, could he?

“One more,” Moody said, picking up the spider and looking around the room. Harry looked up and met both of Moody’s eyes steadily. The spider was placed in front of him, still twitching. “Perhaps you know the third one, Potter? You have experience with it as well.”

Don’t answer. Engage him as little as possible, Ron’s voice said.

Listening to the voice, Harry just shook his head without speaking.

Moody hummed and Harry felt his entire body tense in preparation for what he was expecting to come.

“Avada Kedavra,” Moody hissed and the flash of green was a sight Harry knew he had seen before. His breath caught in his chest and his heart pounded painfully. He stared at the dead spider for a time before returning his hardened gaze to the Auror whose own eyes were glinting.

“The Killing Curse,” Moody said into the dead silent classroom. “Impossible to survive. Only one person in history is known to have survived it.”

Not one person even dared to breathe. The atmosphere was uncomfortably tense and thick. Harry knew everyone was just staring at him and Moody as they continued to stare at each other. When the bell rang, everyone jumped and raced from the room, many students nearly forgetting their bags in their haste. Harry was the last to leave, and as he did so, he felt Moody’s eyes continue to bore into the back of his head.

Once outside, he found himself shuddering involuntarily. He blew out a breath and began to head down the stairs. A little way down the staircase at one of the windows was Neville, standing there and staring out at the rain falling outside.

“Neville?” Harry said quietly and the other boy slowly raised his eyes to look at him. The other Gryffindor’s face was drawn and there was something haunted in his eyes. “Want to go to the room?”

Neville just nodded and they made their way to the Room of Requirement. They gained a room similar to the one Malfoy had asked for that first day. Theirs was smaller, however, with only two chairs and a small table in front of a fireplace that was blazing comfortably. They both sat in silence for a time as they just gazed into the flames.

“I live with my grandmother,” Neville finally said, still watching the fire. “Obviously you know that but I live with her because something bad happened to my parents. They were big targets of You Know Who like your parents. Death Eaters were sent after them one day and they were tortured. They were tortured for so long that they went insane. They are in St. Mungo’s and have been my whole life. They don’t even recognize me. They didn’t break though. They were so strong; they never gave up any important information. I want to make them proud.”

They allowed it to go quiet again as Harry processed what his friend had told him. Glancing over revealed that a fear tears had fallen down Neville’s face.

“They would definitely be proud,” Harry said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and keep trying. They’ll always be proud of you.”

Neville gave a watery smile. “Thanks, Harry.”

Harry smiled back. “I can sort of relate.”

Neville looked at him steadily. “Must’ve been hard to watch that curse.”

Harry nodded. “I don’t remember that night, not really. I’ve just always seen green flashes in nightmares and I hear my mother screaming when Dementors are around.”

“M’sorry,” Neville said and Harry smiled slightly again.

“Me too.”

And they sat in silence, their shared experiences between them.

“How’re you feeling?”

Harry looked up from his book when Snape spoke. He shrugged slightly. “Alright, I suppose. Glad I survived, if that’s what you mean.”

“We are all glad you survived,” Snape said and Harry’s lips twitched.

“Even you?”

Snape rolled his eyes and gave a half-hearted glare. “Yes, even me, Potter.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Would you like to leave?”

“No, sir.” Harry sobered. “Sorry.”

Snape hummed. They were quiet for a time and, as Harry attempted to continue reading, he found his thoughts wandering. He began to think about the First Task and all the times he’d heard Ron’s voice. He knew he had been—was still—absolutely destroyed when Ron died, but should he really be hearing his dead friend’s voice? Hermione had said in second year that, even in the wizarding world, hearing voices was a bad thing.

“Professor,” Harry said and the professor looked up. “Is it a bad thing if I’ve been hearing a voice?”

“It would depend on many factors.”

“I’ve been hearing Ron regularly since he died.”

“When do you hear him?”

“Usually when I need some kind of help. He reminded me to use my wand in the First Task,” Harry said. “He also told me not to engage Moody in class when he showed us the Unforgiveables.”

Snape’s eyes sharpened. “We will return to your last point.”

Harry just nodded, confused.

“As for the rest, you can be assured that you are not mad,” Snape said.

“Hermione said once that it’s bad to hear voices, even here, like when I heard the Basilisk.”

“Neither of these cases qualify as the wrong kind of hearing voices,” Snape said. “In your second year, you were hearing a real voice. It just happened to be a voice only you could hear due to your ability to speak Parseltongue. In your current case, you have simply adopted your friend’s voice as your conscience. You suffered a great loss when Mr. Weasley died and you are, naturally, holding onto him in some way. It is not uncommon. I am sure you had his voice speak to you sometimes even when he was alive.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harry said. “Thanks.” He smiled a little.

Snape inclined his head and turned serious. “Now what was this you said about your last class with Professor Moody?”

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” Harry said with a shrug. “He taught us about the Unforgiveable Curses and showed them.”

“He performed them in the room?”

Harry nodded. “On a spider. He had a few of us name a curse and then he cast it on the spider.”

“Who named the curses?”

“Malfoy said Imperius, Neville said Cruciatus, and he wanted me to do the last but that was when I heard Ron. He told me not to answer and not to engage Moody,” Harry said.

“Unbelievable,” Snape muttered.

“Neville didn’t handle it well,” Harry said. “He told me about his parents.”

“And you?”

Harry shrugged again, flicking at a page in his book. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. That green light was the only thing I remembered from that night for most of my life. I used to dream about it every night. I saw it in a nightmare this summer too. I’m not sure what I felt when Moody cast it. Was…intense to see up close, in person what killed my parents.”

“I will have a talk with the headmaster about Professor Moody’s lessons,” Snape said.

“He said Dumbledore knows, that Dumbledore approved.”

“I will speak to the headmaster regardless. There is something off about Moody.”

“He’s sort of mental,” Harry said.

“Have respect, Potter. He is still your professor.”

“Sorry.”

“Tell me about this nightmare you had this summer,” Snape said.

“Oh, it was nothing. It was just a dream.”

Harry kept his eyes on Snape’s hoping the man would believe him and move on. After several seconds, Snape hummed and nodded. Something in Harry told him Snape didn’t believe him. He also had Ron telling him he should be telling Snape about the strange dream.

“Very well,” Snape said. “I think it is time for you to return to your common room. It is nearing curfew.”

“Have a good night, sir.”

“And you, Potter.”

Harry blinked and looked around. He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must’ve while reading if he was back in the strange house he had first seen in the summer. He walked up the stairs again, stopping outside the door to once again observe the not-quite-human Voldemort, Pettigrew, and the strange man he didn’t know. He flinched and looked away when he watched the muggle caretaker die once again.

He turned around to go back down the stairs when he found the dream had not ended in a flash of green the way it usually did. When he turned, however, he was no longer in the rickety old house but was now in a misty graveyard. He frowned, feeling his stomach sink. The graveyard was not a comforting place and he knew, deep inside, that something bad would happen there.

He gazed around, spotting the large statue next to the inscribed tombstone. He stared, unsettled, at the statue that was a cloaked skeleton wielding a scythe. The face within the cloak was an angry looking skull with empty eyes and the hands that held the scythe had been carved into skeletal fingers. He guessed it was meant to be the grim reaper.

He slowly approached the grave, straining to see past the mist to read what was inscribed on the tombstone.

“Harry Potter!”

He spun around when he heard his name hissed out from somewhere in the dark. There was a quiet screech and the graveyard was illuminated by green light. He turned his head to the sky to see the smoky-looking Dark Mark floating above. He cried out when his scar burst with pain.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he spun only for the scene to change again and for the pain in his scar to stop abruptly.

“Harry.”

Harry turned his head and found he was back in the meadow. Ron was still under the tree that was still the only relatively light spot in the entire meadow. The storm clouds that they had watched the last time had grown closer and darker. He made his way over to Ron and sat down.

“That graveyard’s a bad place,” Ron said and Harry frowned.

“Why?”

“Can’t tell you that, but I wish I could,” Ron said.

“I heard you during the First Task,” Harry said.

“We were best friends,” Ron said with a smile. “Not strange I’d still hang around somehow.”

Harry chuckled. “Snape said something similar.”

“How’s that going?”

“Oddly good,” Harry said. “He’s changed or maybe I have. Whatever it is, he’s actually been a lot of help.”

“He’s certainly one to keep on your side,” Ron said and Harry looked at him in confusion. “You’ve got a lot to face, mate.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Harry cringed and gave in, snapping the screeching golden egg shut. His ears rang in the aftermath of the screaming as he stared at the Black Lake. It had been a few weeks since the First Task and the Christmas holidays were only two weeks away. He had opened his golden egg a few times in hopes that it would change or he’d suddenly solve the riddle, but it only ever ended with him giving up and slamming the egg shut. He was no closer to figuring it out now than the first time he opened it. He blew out a frustrated breath, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Potter.”

He looked up to find Malfoy approaching him. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same.”

Harry nodded at the egg. “Gave it another go. Decided out here was best so I didn’t deafen the entire school.”

Malfoy conceded the valid point. “Any luck?”

Harry shook his head. “Still the same insane screaming. It’s impossible to figure out, completely mental.”

Malfoy nodded. “Mental.”

Silence fell for a few moments.

“Are you okay?”

Harry turned his eyes back to the Slytherin, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Moody’s class a couple weeks back,” Malfoy said. “The Unforgiveables.”

“Oh, that,” Harry said, gazing at the dark water. “Good as I can be, I suppose. Can’t exactly describe it as lovely, but not something I’ve never seen.”

Malfoy’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen the Killing Curse before?”

Harry nodded. “I used to dream about it from that night. For the longest time it was the only thing I remembered.”

Malfoy listened silently, horrified.

“Saw it recently, too, in another dream. A dream from this summer that I still keep having. Voldemort killing a Muggle caretaker.”

“Wait, what?”

“That one’s just a dream, though, I think.”

“Pettigrew was there?”

“And another man I—“ Harry stopped suddenly and looked at Malfoy sharply. “How do you know that?”

“My father told me,” Malfoy said and Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Pettigrew had come by and kept bragging about being the Dark Lord’s choice. He told my father about the death of a Muggle.”

Harry felt himself pale. “It wasn’t a dream?”

Malfoy shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“Merlin,” Harry breathed, turning to the lake. More silence fell as Harry processed the revelation. “What about you?”

Malfoy frowned at the random inquiry. “What about me what?”

“Moody’s class on the Unforgiveables,” Harry said. “Based on the way he acted, you have some kind of experience with the Imperius Curse.”

Malfoy sighed as he, too, admired the still water. “Have some, by extension.”

Harry was about to prod for more when he spotted a very familiar man heading their way. “Moody,” he whispered and Malfoy spun around. Harry watched as the Slytherin tensed and he frowned slightly. There was clearly some history between Moody and the Malfoy family.

“Botherin’ ye, Potter?” Moody growled.

“No, sir. We were just talking,” Harry said.

“Interesting,” Moody said, staring intently at Malfoy with his good eye. “From what I’ve heard, you don’t get on with Draco Malfoy?”

“Things change,” Harry said, slowly getting to his feet and unconsciously moving closer to Malfoy. “A lot’s happened this year.”

“You don’t stop being a Death Eater,” Moody said and Harry stiffened when he saw the man grab his wand.

“You’re mad!” Malfoy said.

“He’s not a Death Eater,” Harry said.

“On the way, considerin’ his father,” Moody said. “’Sides, you don’t know a Death Eater when you see one, Potter.”

Before Harry could ask what the man was talking about, Moody had waved his wand and Malfoy was suddenly a small white ferret. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Professor!” Harry shouted. “Professor, stop!”

Malfoy—the ferret—was now bounding up and down in the air, squealing with fear.

“Little taste of what happens to Death Eaters,” Moody snarled.

“Professor!” Harry yelled again. “He’s not a Death Eater! He’s only fourteen!”

“I’ve seen younger.”

“Alastor!”

Harry snapped his gaze over Moody’s shoulder and found McGonagall rushing towards them. Once there, she gasped at the ferret and immediately flicked her wand. The ferret disappeared and a fearful, disheveled Draco Malfoy took its place. Harry ran over and helped Malfoy to his feet, gazing at the clearly insane professor.

“Alastor, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment, particularly not on students,” McGonagall said.

“He was harassing Potter,” Moody said.

“That’s not true!” Harry argued.

“Regardless, there is no excuse,” McGonagall said. “Run along now, boys,” she added to Harry and Malfoy. They instantly headed inside, Harry snatching up his golden egg. Once inside, they stopped in the Entrance Hall and Harry turned to Malfoy.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

“I’m fine, Potter,” Malfoy said shortly. “Man’s a lunatic.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“I have to go. See you later,” and Malfoy disappeared through the door to the dungeons. Harry just sighed, wondering what the Auror’s deal was. He turned, intending to return to Gryffindor Tower, when he was intercepted.

“Potter.”

He looked at McGonagall. “Yes, Professor?”

“As a Triwizard champion, you are required to dance the opening dance at the Yule Ball.”

Harry sighed again. Right, the ball. Christmas day, the traditional Yule Ball was taking place. They were all being given dance lessons as it was expected, as the host school, that all Hogwarts students would make the best impression. As a champion, he had to have a date and he had no idea who to bring. Nearly everyone, while fonder of him, was not fond enough to be his dance partner. He was not looking forward to the night.

“I am?”

“Yes, Potter. Have you found a partner yet?”

“Not yet, Professor.”

“Best get on it,” McGonagall said. “All eyes will be on you as the unconventional champion.”

“Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall sighed slightly. “I am aware this is the last thing you want to do after the loss of Mr. Weasley. You are only required to dance the first dance. After that, you have my permission to leave the rest of the ball.”

Harry found himself surprised. McGonagall was right. The ball was the last thing on his mind. Having just lost Ron and it being Christmas, dancing was not what he wanted to be doing that day.

“Thank you.”

With a small smile, McGonagall pat his shoulder and then walked away.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Potter?”

It was a week and a half later and Harry was back in Snape’s rooms for their meeting. Christmas was in mere days and he was no closer to…well, anything. His egg remained unsolved, he remained dateless, he was still depressed, and he still had no answers for anything else.

“What am I meant to do about dress robes? I haven’t got any.”

“You can order some through owl order from Madam Malkin’s,” Snape said. “She would only need your measurements.”

“I don’t know them,” Harry admitted, dropping his eyes to the book in his lap.

“You don’t?”

Harry shook his head. “I only got measured in first year when I first got robes. It wasn’t until this year that they needed to be adjusted and Mrs. Weasley just used a charm she’s used for all her sons’ robes.”

“You will need to go to the shop in person then. Perhaps Professor McGonagall would be available to accompany you to Hogsmeade this weekend. Madam Malkin was able to repair her local shop just enough to be of service for the ball.”

“Couldn’t you come?” Harry blurted out and his eyes widened. Did he really just as that of Snape? No way had their relationship changed that much.

“Me?” Snape said and fell quiet, contemplating his blushing student. Things had changed quite a lot between them and he would’ve had to be blind to miss the fact that Potter had some form of trust in him. Perhaps it was their meetings or, perhaps, it was simply the boy latching onto a constant figure in his grief and depression. Whatever it was, he knew it, and the boy, were fragile. “Very well. I have some spare time on Saturday morning.”

Harry blinked. “Really?”

Snape just nodded.

“Thank you, sir.”

With a small smile, Harry returned to his book. Snape attempted to go back to his lesson plan revision, but he found himself distracted by intrigue in the boy’s book. Potter had had the book in every meeting for several weeks now. He was curious what it was about.

“Potter, do you mind me asking what it is you’ve been reading all these weeks?”

“Hm?” Harry said, distracted before looking up at the professor. “Oh, it’s by Demeter Mulligan. It’s about cursed objects in the body or cursed areas of the body. I think, anyways. It gets complicated sometimes and I don’t always understand.” He found himself unconsciously waiting for some remark on his intelligence and inability to understand anything. However, it never came.

“Might I see the book?” Snape asked.

Harry blinked in surprise. “Sure.” He handed the book over.

“The Soul Fragment?” Snape said, glancing up from the black book. “Why on earth are you reading this?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder, unsure if he wanted to tell anyone. “Just…personal curiosity, I guess.”

“Out of all the things to be curious about,” Snape said, handing the book back.

“Sorry,” Harry said, blushing slightly.

“Nothing to apologize for, Potter. There is no harm in reading. As long as it is only curiosity.”

Harry swallowed under Snape’s intense stare. “It is,” he said finally and Snape nodded.

“Have you found a special friend to bring to the ball?” Snape asked casually, returning to the previous topic.

“No, not yet,” Harry said. “I’ve got no one to ask. No one would want to go with me so I’ve got pretty limited options. I don’t even want to go in the first place.”

“It’ll be a hard day for you,” Snape said. Harry looked down sadly. “McGonagall has spoken to you?”

Harry nodded. “I can leave after the opening dance.”

“You may come down here if you wish. I intend on leaving as soon as I can as well.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Impressed you’d be there at all.”

“Not much choice with Albus Dumbledore around.”

“True enough.”

“As for a date,” Snape said. “I’m sure you have a friend willing to attend.”

Harry frowned, wondering just who Snape was thinking of.

“Potter!”

Harry spun to see Cedric Diggory, of all people, running towards him. He frowned, confused as to why Cedric was speaking to him. The entirety of Hufflepuff house hated him. He figured Cedric did too.

“Hey there, Harry.”

“Cedric,” Harry said shortly. “What can I do for you?”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not angry at you like most everyone else,” Cedric said. “I’ve also told my house to lay off.”

“Thanks, I suppose.”

Cedric nodded and an awkward silence settled over them. Finally, Harry sighed and broke it.

“What did you need, Cedric?”

“Have you figured out your egg yet?”

“Not yet.” Harry looked at him. “I suppose you have.”

Cedric nodded again. “Take a bath with it. The Prefects’ bathroom is a good one to use, its size and all.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

“See you, Potter,” Cedric said with a smile and began to walk away. “Just take a bath!” he called back over his shoulder. Harry watched him go, thoroughly puzzled.

Shaking his head, he finished his trek inside the school from the owlery. There was still no word from Sirius even after he had sent off another letter a week earlier. He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t figure out why it seemed Sirius no longer cared. He knew he should’ve expected it. No one truly cared about him or wanted him. He tried not to wallow in such self-pity, though, as it wouldn’t do him any good. He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets and pondered where to go.

“Luna,” he said in surprise as he rounded a corner and found the Ravenclaw girl. She was staring at one of the Christmas trees intently. He walked up beside her. “How are you, Luna?”

“Hello, Harry. I’m quite well, thank you. How are you?” Luna said in her soothingly dreamy voice.

“Alright, I suppose,” Harry said. “What exactly are you doing?”

“There’s some mistletoe on this tree,” Luna said. “I’m trying to spot a Nargle.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “What exactly are Nargles?”

“Funny little things that love to hide in mistletoe.”

“Ah,” Harry said even though the girl’s response only raised questions.

“Have you solved either of your pressing issues?”

Harry blinked. “Uh, well, I’ve got an idea for my egg. I don’t have any ideas for the Yule Ball.”

“Shame,” Luna said, still staring at the tree. “A girl would be lucky to go with you.”

“You think so?”

“Well, sure. None of what has happened has been your fault. You also fought quite valiantly against the dragon. Additionally, you have made a friend out of our harsh Professor Snape.”

“We’re not friends, trust me,” Harry said quickly. 

Luna hummed. “Either way, good things will come amongst the bad.”

“I hope so,” Harry said. “I’ve been pretty overwhelmed with bad so far.”

“A change will come soon.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Harry glanced at the girl and found his mind lighting up. This had to be what Snape meant. “Luna?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go to the ball with me?”

Luna looked at him with a soft smile. “Me? Really?”

“Of course,” Harry said, returning the smile. “You’re a good friend and one I’d rather go with than anyone else.”

“How kind,” Luna said. “I think I would enjoy the party. Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s really no problem,” Harry said. “With you, I might actually have some fun.”

“It’ll be a difficult day for you,” Luna acknowledged. “The first Christmas without Ron.”

Harry sighed and nodded. “Definitely won’t be the best of days.”

“Perhaps you could try think of all your good, happy memories with him,” Luna said. “It will still hurt but some happiness might make it through.”

Harry looked at her and gave a tight but thankful smile.

Harry tugged at his dress robes uncomfortably, staring at himself in the mirror. He did not want to do this. He’d rather stay in bed or hide in Snape’s rooms. It hadn’t been the greatest day all together. Not only was it the first Christmas without Ron, but he also hadn’t received anything from Sirius for Christmas. The lack of letters had already been so painful and this was just devastating.

He sighed. Not only was Sirius’ near abandonment bothering him, but he had had a nightmare again and he had an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. He just knew something was going to go horribly wrong. Additionally, his dancing skills were atrocious despite the lessons they were all put through.

“Mr. Potter.”

He looked at McGonagall’s reflection in the mirror.

“It is time.”

Setting his jaw, he nodded and followed McGonagall down from the Tower. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted Luna waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Her hair had been curled and left down to fall down her back and frame her face. She was wearing a lovely blue, knee-length dress with small cap sleeves. She wore her usual radish earrings and had a large, almost gaudy brooch on her chest. She looked lovely and just like his friend, and that’s exactly what he needed.

He approached her and she smiled.

“You look quite dashing,” she said.

“You look great too,” Harry said. “Thanks again for coming with me.”

“My pleasure,” Luna said. “I’m happy to make your evening slightly more bearable.”

“Champions, form a line, please,” McGonagall called and began pushing the Champions and their dates into the correct order. He found himself somewhat startled to find Hermione arm in arm with Viktor Krum and looking remarkable, far away from her usual conservative, scholarly appearance. He sighed sadly, missing his old friends.

Luna hooked her arm through his, pulling his attention from Hermione at the front of the line. He gave Luna another smile and straightened as the Great Hall doors opened. He and Luna were last to enter and it was hard to ignore the stares. He managed, however, by focusing on Luna and also, once they reached the dance floor, Snape. The man was watching him steadily yet calmly and he felt himself automatically relax somewhat. Everything between them was still so strange but he wasn’t questioning it quite as much anymore.

Harry turned, a little more relaxed, to Luna and took her hand and put a hand on her waist. She smiled brightly at him as they awaited the music. It started up suddenly and they were gliding around the floor with the others. It wasn’t as horrific as he thought it would be. He was actually almost smiling as he looked around at the other couples. Fleur Delacour had attended with the Ravenclaw, Roger Davies. Cedric had, naturally, invited his girlfriend Cho Chang who was also a Ravenclaw. It was the last that continued to surprise him the most. Viktor Krum and Hermione. They must’ve started talking recently and hit it off.

Despite everything, he was happy for Hermione. She deserved to have such special attention and to have it come from Viktor Krum was amazing. She looked happy and was clearly managing to move on.

As the music continued, other couples began to move onto the dancefloor. He laughed quietly as Dumbledore led McGonagall onto the floor and couldn’t help a small snort at Filch and Mrs. Norris. His eyes landed on Moody for a moment, as well as Karkaroff, and took notice of their intense stares but quickly moved on. He was finally feeling sort of happy and he didn’t want to lose that.

“I believe you have fulfilled your duty as a champion,” Luna said, grabbing his attention again. “We can sit if you like.”

He smiled and nodded. They made their way through the swirling couples and, after grabbing some pumpkin juice, found an empty table. They chose a good time to sit as the ballroom music ended and the wizarding band, the Weird Sisters, was introduced. The music took a turn, becoming much more like Muggle rock music and everyone began dancing in a mob, the professors quickly bowing out. He sipped his juice and watched, catching sight of Hermione bouncing and jumping with Viktor every now and then.

He tensed when a hand lightly touched his shoulder. He looked up, relaxing almost instantly at the sight of Snape. The Potions master gave him a steady look, asking a question.

Harry smiled. “Actually, I think I’ll hang out for a while.”

With a squeeze of his shoulder that he wasn’t positive even happened, Snape inclined his head and swept out of the Hall.

“It’s quite amazing how much has changed,” Luna observed casually.

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think too much has really changed.”

“Maybe you can’t see it from the inside,” she said. “From the outside, however, the change is remarkable. There is so much care between you.”

Harry chuckled. “Now I know you’re making things up. Snape could never care about me and I’m not exactly singing his praises.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see it soon,” Luna said, going so far as to pat his hand. “These things make us blind.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

“Might I bother you for one more dance?” Luna said. Harry blinked for a moment before smiling.

“Of course.”

He took her hand and led her back to the floor where couples had once again claimed the space as a slow song began. They dropped the formality and just wrapped their arms around waist and neck. He settled into the swaying motion as they slowly circled, gazing around the Hall at everyone else. Many students were seated, having some snack and drinks and chatting. Most of the professors were standing around the perimeter of the room, observing, and a few stood close enough together that they could talk quietly. Snape, surprisingly, was standing by the doors. He thought the Potions master had left.

“He’s looking out for you,” Luna said, grabbing his attention.

“Who is?”

“Professor Snape, of course. You’re the reason he’s still here.”

“I don’t think so, Luna,” Harry said, glancing back at Snape to find him leaving the Hall behind Karkaroff. “There, see, he’s left. He was waiting for Karkaroff.”

“That is why he left, not why he had stayed,” Luna said and he looked at her. She always seemed to know so much more than she said and people assumed. She was so different and unique.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a muffled crash outside the Great Hall. Only a few people seemed to hear it and everyone else just continued on. Until the second, louder crash and scream that followed quickly after the first crash. The band stopped and everyone stopped dancing, turning to look at the doors in question. Everything was silent for a time, the professors all moving slowly towards the doors, wands drawn.

He jumped and there were startled screams when one door flew open. He frowned at the sight of a distressed and disheveled Lucius Malfoy. The man was looking around wildly until he spotted Draco. Without a word, he hurried to his son, taking a moment to whisper in the boy’s ear. Once he finished, he turned to Dumbledore.

“They’ve gotten inside the castle,” Malfoy said. Harry looked at the headmaster for some kind of explanation but got none.

Dumbledore had no time to respond before the Great Hall doors disintegrated into tiny shards. Screams rang out and people began running in a panic as the masked intruders began casting curse after curse. Harry’s eyes widened and he automatically grabbed his wand.

Death Eaters.

Death Eaters had found a way into the school.

There was no time to contemplate, however, and he pulled Luna out of the path of a particularly vicious Blasting Curse.

“You have to find a way out of here,” Harry said but Luna was already shaking her head. She pulled her wand out from seemingly nowhere.

“I’ll fight with you.”

He wanted to argue but there was no time. He nodded and ran into the fray, blocking a Burning Curse from hitting a Beauxbatons boy. He battled the best he could, reading and blocking what he could. He fought for them all…he fought for Ron. He sent a strong stunner, knocking one Death Eater out cold. He hissed as a Cutting Curse sliced the top of his shoulder.

He whirled around when he heard a scream. “Luna!” He watched her go down on a shattered leg and was about to run to her when Draco beat him to it, shielding the Ravenclaw. They met eyes and nodded, Draco standing guard and Harry returning to the fight. He flung a Death Eater into the refreshment table, shattering it but knocking the wizard out.

He felt a rush behind him and turned, reading the curse even though the colour of it made it unnecessary. He had no time to react but others had. He was quickly being pulled and pushed to the left, out of the Killing Curse’s path. Despite the interference, the curse still found a target and he stared at Draco’s body with shocked, wide eyes. A shudder went through his arm that wasn’t his own. He looked up at Mr. Malfoy whose eyes were already flooding and pouring over. The may collapsed to his knees, pulling his dead son onto his lap.

Harry just watched, horrified and heartbroken, paying no mind to the ending battle around them. Was this what it had been like for those that had watched him with Ron? He slowly knelt down and put a hand on Mr. Malfoy’s shoulder. The man gave him a sad, almost defeated glance, but there was also gratitude.

They didn’t notice when the entire event ended.

Harry stood staring at the shiny black casket that held the body of Draco Malfoy, hardly noticing that he was soaked from the pouring rain. How many funerals would he have to go to? How many people would die? Was it all because of him? The Death Eaters were more than likely after him and Draco had been protecting him. Was it his fault?

Tomorrow was New Years’ Eve. Maybe the new year would be better.

He looked up when he was suddenly shielded from the downpour. He met the steady eyes of Snape.

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the coffin.

“You’ll catch your death out here,” Snape said. “This won’t be rain much longer.”

Harry shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I was stuck out in bad weather.”

“What do you—“

“Don’t ask, not now.”

Snape sighed. “It is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry gazed up at him again. “The curse was for me. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention. He was saving my stupid self.”

“What he did was brave and honourable,” Snape said and put a hand on the back of Harry’s neck in a new form of comfort. “Perhaps try to remember that instead.”

“I don’t deserve to live more than he did.”

“But you do deserve to live,” Snape said and continued when Harry went to argue. “He deserves to live as well, I know. Perhaps consider the idea that his feelings towards you had changed enough that he now saw the two of you as being on the same level.”

Harry returned to the coffin, thoughtful.

“Do not remain out here for too much longer and you may come down when you return inside,” Snape said. He squeezed Harry’s neck gently and swept away into the castle, leaving Harry to stand in the rain that was quickly turning to sleet.

He knew he should go inside, but he couldn’t make himself leave. Nothing about Draco Malfoy seemed properly settled and closed. Things had been changing, their animosity fading. They were even being…friendly. Now nothing more could come of it. They would never know if they could be friends. He wrapped his arms around himself sadly. Merlin knew they could both use a friend.

“Potter!”

Harry turned his head and tensed when he saw Draco’s crowd heading towards him. He slipped his hand inside his jacket, grasping his wand.

“You think you’re doing?” Blaise Zabini snapped.

“Saying goodbye,” he said simply.

“You have no right!” Pansy Parkinson screeched.

“I knew him, too,” Harry said. “I have every right.”

“You lost that right when he died for you,” Zabini sneered. “It’s your fault, just like Weasley.”

Harry winced involuntarily.

“Time you joined him,” Zabini said and before Harry could think, he was being dragged and tossed into icy cold water.

He gasped, regretting it immediately when water rushed painfully into his lungs. He instantly snapped his mouth shut and struggled to gain his bearings. He had no idea which way was which through the cold and shock and pain. He struggled to swim in any direction, his vision blocked by dark water.

After more thrashing, he managed to determine which way was ‘up’ and he started for it immediately. His lungs were burning from the ice water and lack of oxygen. He could feel his body beginning to panic but he kept swimming until his ankle was grabbed, and he found the surface growing further away. He went to look down at the culprit but suddenly lost the fight to hold his breath, and the lake’s water rushed into his body at an excruciating pace. It wasn’t long before his vision began to spot and blur before going steadily darker.

‘Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground.’

Well, that was nice whatever it was.

He wasn’t aware that he was moving through the water until he found himself swallowing air rather than icy water. He heaved painfully and coughed harshly. His chest and throat seared and burned, his eyes beginning to water with the pain.

“Take it easy,” a voice said. “Breathe slowly.”

He did his best to listen, finding his mind coming to focus on the gentle hand that had come to rest on his back. His chest continued to burn but he slowly began to catch his breath. He began to shiver, his drenched body registering the frigid air of the Scottish winter storm that had quickly come upon the castle.

“You’ll be alright,” the voice said and a warm cloak fell over his shoulders.

Harry blinked to clear his vision as his breathing became regular. He looked around, finally able to see his surroundings. He clutched the cloak tighter, feeling his body shake harder with the cold. He finally looked up at the man who had saved him and was shocked to see the long blonde hair of Lucius Malfoy. He winced involuntarily, a memory of second year racing by.

“How’re you feeling?”

“C-cold,” Harry said honestly and Malfoy chuckled. “W-w—“

“Let’s get you inside and warm, and then we’ll talk, yes?” Malfoy said and Harry nodded.

With the man’s help, Harry got to his feet unsteadily and slowly walked. He leaned heavily on Malfoy, grateful for the supporting arm around his still cloak-covered shoulders. He was becoming exhausted and the journey through the castle was becoming a blur. He amazed himself when, at a flight of stairs, he was brought into Malfoy’s arms and he didn’t struggle. As he was carried, he noticed the spiraling down of their trek and realized they were heading down into the dungeons. He blinked to himself. Shouldn’t they be going to the Hospital Wing?

He was placed back on his feet and he instantly grabbed Malfoy’s robes for balance. They continued. They didn’t walk much farther before they were pushing through a couple of doors. Heat hit his body and he sighed slightly at how good it felt.

“Really, Lucius? I understand today is difficult but to barge in?”

Harry raised his head slightly at the voice.

“Severus,” Malfoy said, still holding Harry to his side.

Harry watched the professor enter the room, expecting to be angrily thrown out.

“My god, what’s happened?” Snape said, rushing over to them.

“It seems some of Draco’s…associates decided to get what they considered revenge. They threw him in the lake. I just managed to get him,” Malfoy said.

Shockingly, Snape had knelt in front of Harry and was examining the child.

“Are you alright?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded. “Cold,” he whispered, clutching Malfoy’s cloak around him tighter.

“Of course you are, child,” Snape said, getting to his feet and pulling Harry over to stand by the roaring fireplace. Snape waved his wand, and a thick bathrobe flew into his arms and a fluffy blanket landed by their feet. “Put this on and wrap up in the blanket. Remove your clothes first and sit by the fire.”

Harry looked at him, unsure.

“We will leave the room while you change, but you must get out of the clothes,” Snape said.

Harry sighed and nodded, taking the robe from the professor.

“I will make some tea,” Snape said. “Lucius.”

Harry watched the two men walk into the kitchen and the normally open door swung closed. He smiled a little at the gesture and proceeded to do as he was told. While it was quite strange and uncomfortable to be wearing nothing under the robe, he did his best to ignore it, knowing he couldn’t stay in the clothes. He unfolded the blanket and, settling on the rug in front of the fire, wrapped it around his body and leaned against the side of the sofa. He stared into the dancing flames, still shivering but already feeling much warmer.

“Tea.” Snape interrupted Harry’s silence and he reached out of his cocoon for the steaming mug.

“Thank you,” he said, using it to warm his hands and breathing the steam to warm his chest.

Snape inclined his head and sat on the sofa beside where Harry was leaning. “Feeling any better?”

“Yes, sir. Already warmer,” Harry said, carefully taking a sip of his tea.

“Good,” Snape said. “Stay there by the fire for a while longer.”

Harry nodded and returned to looking at the fire.

“Who was involved?” Snape asked Malfoy who was sitting at the other end of the sofa.

“Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and Zabini,” Malfoy said. “I believe Zabini was the main instigator.”

“What has happened to them?”

“Already sent to Dumbledore who has also already received a Ministry order for disciplinary action.”

“Excellent,” Snape said. “Thank you.”

Malfoy gave his friend an odd, but knowing look. “Not something I will allow happen and I know Dumbledore will not act without force.”

Snape hummed in agreement. “How are you?” he asked after a short period of silence.

Malfoy shrugged. “As well as I can be. It’s been hard.”

Snape nodded. “And Narcissa? I noticed she left immediately after the funeral.”

“Yes, she is not coping well,” Malfoy said. “I worry about her, worry she may give up.”

“You suspect suicidal thoughts?” Snape said.

Malfoy nodded. “I have one of our house elves with her whenever I am not.”

“Bring her to me if you need.”

“I will.”

“Professor?” Harry interrupted and Snape looked down at the teen. “What kind of creatures live in the Black Lake?”

“The lake is predominately inhabited by grindylows and merpeople,” Snape said. “Why do you ask?”

“I heard singing,” Harry said, looking back at the fire.

“That would be the merpeople,” Snape said. “They can only speak underwater and have lovely melodies.”

Harry’s eyes widened as his mind raced, and he began to get to his feet. “I have to go. I—“

“You are going to sit back down,” Snape said, a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You must rest and warm up, child. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”

Harry met the man’s eyes and nodded. He settled back against the sofa, unconsciously leaning against his professor’s legs lightly.

The atmosphere grew remarkably comfortable, Snape and Malfoy quietly talking and Harry relaxing into the flames. He vaguely listened to their conversation, feeling himself slowly drifting off. He was so warm and comfortable. His eyelids continuously drooped until they remained closed, keeping him in a deep and restful sleep.

“Severus, the boy,” Lucius said, gesturing to the teen still sitting on the floor.

Severus glanced down to find the child had fallen asleep and had done so against his legs. Rather than irritation, he felt a sense of relief, relief that the child was alright and currently under his care. He frowned to himself as he continued to watch the Gryffindor sleep. Had things truly changed that much? Was he coming to care for the boy? He was the one that had been helping the boy through the year’s hardships and tragedies. They had been spending plenty of time together outside class and meetings. His reasons and excuses for previously hating the boy had slowly dissolved. It was possible he was developing a fondness for the child. Was it already so far to be considered caring? Could their past be forgiven?

“Shall we wake him and return him to the Tower?” Lucius said, breaking Severus' musings. “Severus?”

“No, let him sleep,” Severus said. “He needs the rest.”

Lucius gave a small smile. “Very well. I shall take my leave. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Lucius, and thank you again for the help with Potter,” Severus said. Lucius inclined his head in acknowledgement before stepping into the Floo.

Severus looked down at the sleeping Gryffindor and considered the situation. He should send Potter back to the Tower but something stopped him. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had begun to soften as he observed the teenager. Surprising even himself, his hand came up and lightly touched the messy black hair. He carded his fingers gently through the hair.

The child was having such a difficult year and he didn’t seem to have many people to lean on and support him. He had a small handful of friends but that seemed to be it. Through passing comments, Severus had begun to wonder about the boy’s relatives. Additionally, what had happened to Lupin and Black? Wouldn’t they be in constant contact with Potter now they had all be reunited? Potter never mentioned either of the men.

He frowned slightly. Potter clearly had secrets. Not that he could judge; he had his own secrets, he mused, casting a glance down at his left arm.

What to do with the boy? After a few moments of thought, he finally made a decision. He carefully got to his feet and picked up the child who didn’t even stir. He walked to one of the four doors that led off the sitting room. He pushed the door open to the guestroom he had never before used. It was a dull room, nothing but beige colours, but it would do. He placed Potter on the bed, tucking him under the blankets and draping the extra fluffy blanket over top. He waved his wand silently and the fireplace came to life.

He gazed down at the boy, a damaged boy who was seemingly alone in the world. His heart beat with empathy, knowing what it was like to be alone.

No one, especially a child, should be forgotten and alone.

Harry walked out of the guestroom after dressing in the dry and clean clothes that had been left for him. He had been surprised to wake up still in Snape’s rooms. He thought he would’ve been sent back to Gryffindor Tower.

He was worried about you, Ron’s voice said.

Harry found he couldn’t argue. Snape had seemed concerned when Malfoy had brought him to the Potions master. Malfoy had seemed worried as well, come to think of it. It was an unfamiliar feeling, having adults that had worried about him and taken care of him.

He slowly walked into the kitchen and found Professor Snape standing at the stove, obviously cooking something.

“You know how to cook?” he blurted and then mentally cursed himself.

Snape turned his head, an eyebrow raised. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Potter.”

“Sorry,” Harry said. “Good morning.”

“Take a seat,” Snape said, turning back to the pan on the stove. “I do not generally cook while at Hogwarts as there are house elves. I do, however, cook at my home. I have never had a house elf and will never have one. I believe in doing things for yourself even if you have magic.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “My uncle has made sure I know that. He believes I should do everything myself so I don’t rely on him.”

Snape gave the boy a curious look as he plated breakfast. “I suppose that is a good lesson. Is your uncle reliable?”

“With certain things,” Harry said.

He’s reliable with punishments, he added silently.

Snape hummed. One of these days he would get the full story of the Dursley family. “Eat,” he said, putting a full plate at the spot closest to where Harry was still standing.

“Thanks,” Harry said, taking a seat. “Also, thanks for letting me stay here.”

Snape sat across from the boy with his own plate. “I had to ensure you had not caught pneumonia.”

Harry hid a small smile. “Right.”

They continued their breakfast in comfortable silence. Giving it a brief thought, Harry realized it wasn’t odd anymore. Having comfortable silences was becoming normal. He smiled down at his sausages, remembering what had been normal for them not too long ago.

“So, um, how is Mr. Malfoy?” Harry eventually asked.

“He is coping,” Snape said, glancing through the mail that had appeared on the table beside his plate. “It will take him time but I believe he will get through this. He is very strong.”

“Why was he still here, when he saved me?”

“He was coming to visit with me,” Snape said. “We are good friends and have been since our youth.”

“Did you go to school together?”

“Hogwarts, yes, for a short time. He was in his final year when I began. He helped me in that year and we remained in contact even after he had graduated.”

“He helped you with the Marauders?”

Snape looked at him sharply.

Harry dropped his eyes, ashamed. “Lupin, last year. He would tell me stories about their time in Hogwarts. He didn’t use names, but he did say Slytherins were their main targets with their pranks.”

Harry caught the sneer that grazed Snape’s face. “Suppose you two had great fun reliving those ‘pranks’.”

Harry shrugged. “Lupin might have, but I didn’t. It didn’t sound like pranks to me. It sounded vicious. It sounded like my cousin.”

“Your cousin?”

Harry nodded. “We don’t get along.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“Is that why you hate me?” Harry asked, ignoring the unasked questions he knew the professor had. “I remind you of my father, of them and what they did?”

Snape stared at the teen steadily. “It was part of it.”

Harry dropped his eyes with a nod.

“However, things change and it has little relevance anymore.”

The boy’s gaze flew up and fixed on the professor.

“I do not hate you,” Snape said. “I am seeing the things I should have in the beginning. I had simply blinded myself.”

Harry smiled, ignoring the way his eyes had begun to water. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure I didn’t exactly make things easy sometimes. I’m aware I can be difficult.”

Snape smirked. “You certainly can be, child.” He turned his attention to the letter he had opened and held in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at the contents. “I must speak with the headmaster, but you may continue your breakfast.”

Harry swallowed his most recent bite and shook his head. “Nope, I’m done. Thank you for the food.”

“If it meant you would eat more, I would give you breakfast every morning,” Snape said.

Harry got to his feet. “Been hard this year.”

Snape’s gaze gentled. “I know. Now go, but try to avoid the Slytherins and don’t go outside.”

Harry chuckled. “I won’t.”

Snape nodded in approval and they both left the man’s quarters. They walked up to the Entrance Hall together and then separated. Harry stood at the bottom of the Grand Staircase for a time, contemplating what to do with his day. As he stood there, the song he had heard in the lake came to mind.

“Merpeople,” he mumbled to himself and then began the journey up to his dorm in the Tower. He walked into the common room and was immediately confronted by hateful glares from Hermione and Ginny. He just shook his head sadly to himself and walked up to the dorm. He opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and grabbed his still unsolved golden egg. He had an idea, though, and, with the hint from Cedric some time ago, he was positive he was on the right track.

He also pulled out the Marauder’s Map, though he did so with sadness. It was a fantastic tool but it was also a reminder of Remus and Sirius, both of whom he had yet to hear from. He sighed and revealed the map, searching for anyone around the Prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor.

It was currently clear.

He quietly left the Tower, ignoring the glares from Hermione and Ginny again. He walked down the corridor once on the fifth floor, searching for the statue that essentially hid the door to the Prefects’ bathroom. He found it around a corner and stopped, staring at the door, realizing he didn’t have the password. He bit his lip and looked at the map, remembering when it revealed a required incantation for him the previous year. He grinned when ‘pine fresh’ appeared beside the door on the map.

“Pine fresh,” he said and heard a click from the door. He pushed it open.

For a bathroom, the place was massive. It resembled more of an indoor swimming pool than anything else. He closed the map and put it in the cupboard where he found extra towels to keep it safe. He moved over to the pool-like bathtub and began to remove his clothes down to his boxers. He turned the taps by his feet and water of various colours poured from faucets and almost instantly filled the tub. Once filled, he stepped in.

He took a moment to enjoy the luxury before turning to the golden egg sitting on the edge with the towel. 

He felt extremely confident in his idea, but he also felt that he was completely insane for thinking water would change anything. With a mental shrug, he pulled his egg in and dunked it under the surface, opening it.

No screeching.

Instead, something muffled.

He took a deep breath and ducked under.

‘Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you’re searching ponder this;

We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,

An hour long you’ll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect’s black,

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.’

Harry quickly emerged, coughing. He had barely made it but he had, and now he had his clue.

As Snape had informed him, merpeople lived in the Black Lake so it was obviously merpeople that the song referred to. Something of meaning to him would be taken and he had to find it. The part that was getting him was the time. How was he supposed to hold his breath underwater for an hour? It was impossible.

He listened to the song a couple more times to make sure he didn’t miss anything, but it was perfectly clear.

Mostly.

How would he breathe underwater for an hour?

Dear Sirius,

I hope this reaches you and I hope you’re alright. I haven’t seen anything in the Prophet, so I’m assuming you haven’t been caught. I hope you managed to have a decent Christmas. Had to be better than mine in any case.

Draco Malfoy was killed Christmas day at the Yule Ball. Somehow Death Eaters got into the school. He died protecting me. To top it off, after the funeral, some Slytherins threw me in the lake as revenge for Draco’s death. I almost didn’t make it but Mr. Malfoy saved me, Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape. Mr. Malfoy pulled me from the lake and Professor Snape got me warm.

He’s been really great, Professor Snape, I mean. I think…I think he might actually care about me, even just a little bit. It’s…nice. He’s good to me, he’s taken care of me. He listens to me. It’s different from any other adult I’ve had in my life, especially compared to the Dursleys.

The Second Task is next month and I’ve figured out what it is, but not what to do. How do I hold my breath underwater for an hour?

I hope to hear from you soon.

Harry

Harry sighed and put the letter in an envelope, handing it to Hedwig. She hooted and rubbed against his hand before taking off. Harry watched her fly until he could no longer see her. He turned his gaze from the sky and watched a group of students make their way across the grounds. He glanced across at the restored Quidditch Pitch where a couple people were casually flying around.

He sighed again. He missed Quidditch and flying. The tournament had cancelled out Quidditch that year. Though he missed it, he wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to fly. It brought up memories of both Ron and Draco, and those memories were painful now.

He shook his head and pushed away from the railing, leaving the Astronomy Tower. He needed to go to the library and find a way to survive the Second Task. He went down the spiral staircase and, shoving his hands in his pockets, made his way through the corridors.

He found himself stumbling backwards as he ran into something solid.

“Alright, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Malfoy said, looking down at the young Gryffindor.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, sorry,” Harry said. “I obviously wasn’t looking.”

“I’ll admit to being a touch preoccupied as well,” the man said.

Harry nodded, figuring he was referring to Draco. “What are you doing here?”

“I am visiting Professor Snape and collecting Draco’s things.”

A stab of pain went through Harry’s heart.

“Did saving me interrupt your visit yesterday?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Malfoy said, shaking his head. “I frequently visit as it is. I am simply taking comfort in an old friend during this tragedy.”

“I’m sorry about Draco,” Harry said sincerely. “I know we never got along but we had been trying. I regret not having more time to get to know him. We may have been able to be friends.”

Mr. Malfoy smiled. “Walk with me?”

Harry was startled by the offer. “Sure.”

“I know Draco did not give a good first impression,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Perhaps you two could have been friends, but the fact cannot be hidden that he started things all wrong.”

Harry chuckled. “He knew how to make an impression.”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “A skill he learned from me, I believe. Our first meeting was not much better.”

Harry flashed back to the summer before second year. He had met Mr. Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts and the man had been beyond intimidating. Not to mention the encounter ended with a fist fight between Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley. He nodded to concede the man’s point.

“You were a popular topic with Draco,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It was quite irritating at times.”

Harry laughed again.

“We spoiled the boy,” the man continued. “Sometimes we focused more on that than teaching him essential skills such as patience and humility and empathy.”

“He seemed to have gained some of that this year,” Harry said. “After all, he approached me first. In fact, he’s part of the reason I was able to survive the First Task.”

“Despite what he showed the world, Draco wanted to help people. He probably would have been a Healer,” Mr. Malfoy said with a small smile. “This year has changed many things.”

“Like the fact that Voldemort is active again, gaining power?” Harry said and gained a hard look from the blonde. “I know you’re a Death Eater or were or whatever. I know you’ve got the Dark Mark. I have nightmares so I know about Voldemort.” He pointed to his scar and Mr. Malfoy frowned.

“How do you know that and what does your scar have to do with nightmares?”

“It wasn’t hard to determine when Moody forced Draco to name the Imperius Curse. It became even more obvious when Moody accused Draco of being one because of who his father is,” Harry said.

Mr. Malfoy sighed sadly. “I am still a Death Eater but I am not loyal. I haven’t been since Draco turned five and I was forced to sign a contract that essentially bound Draco to the fate of becoming a Death Eater at sixteen. I have no way out. My wife and I would be killed if I left. I have no options.”

“I’m guessing the Mark can be used against you?” Harry said and Mr. Malfoy nodded.

“It can kill us instantly if he so chooses.”

“Is there no way to remove the Mark or cancel its connection?”

“No way that’s been found. Maybe there is, but no one knows it yet.”

“Maybe someone should.”

Mr. Malfoy gave him a gentle smile. “It is an honourable idea, but no one is going to try find a way to help Death Eaters.”

“Maybe someone should,” Harry repeated. Mr. Malfoy pat his shoulder.

“The Mark was my choice and it is a choice I must live with,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Now what is this about your scar?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t completely know. I’ve been doing a ton of research. The main thing I know is that I have some kind of physical connection to Voldemort and it’s because of my scar.”

“How do you figure?”

“I started having nightmares—visions, actually—of Voldemort in the summer. My scar started to hurt in the summer too. All around the same time Voldemort started acting and gaining power. It is not just a coincidence,” Harry explained.

“How is that possible?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. It has something to do with Halloween. I think something happened when the Killing Curse backfired,” Harry said.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Yeah, well, no one had ever heard of surviving the Killing Curse either.”

They fell quiet as Mr. Malfoy acknowledged the valid point.

“Well,” Harry said after a time, “I should get to the library. Homework and stuff.”

“Of course,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It was a pleasure to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said and watched the man walk away. He had a bemused look on his face, slightly confused by the interaction they had just had. Would no one stay the same this year or was it the year for breaking misconceptions? He shook his head and headed to the library.

“You must be out of your mind,” Severus said, glaring at the headmaster. “What makes you think I even rank in the top twenty?”

“Severus, you know I do not make this choice,” Dumbledore said. “The chief told me who must be taken.”

“Then the chief is deluded.”

“You know they are never wrong.”

Severus huffed and crossed his arms, staring out the window.

“What I am curious about is how this has come to be.”

Severus glared again. “This is exactly what you wanted when you started the meetings.”

“I simply wanted you to understand each other and become civil. I never expected this.”

“Neither did I.” An image of a smiling black haired boy flitted through Severus' mind.

“Do you agree?” Dumbledore interrupted. “You must not tell him.”

“I know that,” Severus said. “And I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“No.”

“Very well.”

Harry sighed as he looked at the small calendar on Snape’s desk from his own. In the grand scheme, there wasn’t much time before he would be back with the Dursleys. He wouldn’t be able to use Sirius as a threat anymore. The Dursleys were dumb, but they would have come to assume by now that his godfather didn’t exist. They wouldn’t believe him about Sirius anymore.

He pretty much doesn’t exist to me either, he thought bitterly.

He would need supplies this summer if he wanted to survive, especially as he probably wouldn’t be getting much from the Weasleys this summer, not after Ron.

Are you really considering stealing from Snape? Ron’s voice said in disbelief.

I don’t have much choice, he thought back.

You could tell someone, Ron said.

No one will believe me, Harry thought sadly. I tried telling Dumbledore and he didn’t listen, just sent me back. No one ever believes me. No one cares.

He does, Ron’s voice said and then faded away as Harry glanced up at Snape who was wrapping up his lecture on Veritaserum. Not a potion they would brew until sixth year, but an important one to know about.

I don’t want to steal from him but I have to try if I want to live to see next year. He sighed to himself, trying to figure out a way to get into Snape’s stores. He had no idea he was the only one still sitting in the classroom.

“Mr. Potter.”

No response.

“Mr. Potter.”

Snape crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Potter!”

Finally, Harry started and looked at him.

“As thrilled as I would be if you were suddenly devoted to Potions,” Snape drawled sarcastically, “class has been dismissed.”

Harry’s eyes darted around the empty room and he flushed. “Oh! I’m sorry, sir.” He began to quickly pack his things away.

“I do hope this daydreaming did not affect your listening and note-taking,” Snape said.

Harry shook his head. “No, sir.”

Snape hummed, observing the boy with a slight frown. Something was bothering the child. “Is everything alright, Potter?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine,” Harry said, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “I’m fine. See you tomorrow, Professor.”

Snape nodded and watched the child leave curiously. Something was on the Gryffindor’s mind. It was too bad they didn’t meet until tomorrow. He frowned as he contemplated what could be troubling the teen. Granted, there were many things preoccupying the boy this year but this distraction was recent, had come on suddenly.

What could it be?

He would find out tomorrow.

Harry winced, but said nothing as he was harshly shoulder-checked and shoved into the wall. He glanced at the snickering Slytherins and shook his head, rubbing his shoulder. It was sure to bruise from the impact with the wall. It didn’t matter. He was used to it. The Slytherins were constantly at him since Draco’s death and he still had many from Gryffindor and the other houses after him for Ron.

He dropped his eyes to his feet as he walked, thinking of Ron. It was slightly easier to think about Ron now. It still sent searing pain through his heart but he didn’t tear up anymore. He sighed. Ron would’ve helped him get into Snape’s stores. Ron would’ve helped him figure out what to do for the Second Task. Ron would’ve helped him with all their violent classmates. Ron would’ve helped him figure out the deal with Moody.

Ron would’ve helped.

He shoved his hands in his pockets somewhat bitterly. Why did he have to lose everyone? No one else lost parents, mentors, godfathers, friends…

He had lost them all. He had no one.

A door flew open just in front of him and he jumped, staring inside. His eyebrows came together in confusion as he stared at Karkaroff and Moody. What were they doing in a store closet? They always seemed to hate each other. And why were they staring at Karkaroff’s arm? He glanced down but the Highmaster had yanked his sleeve down. With a glare at both Moody and Harry, Karkaroff stalked off.

“Potter,” Moody said, stopping Harry from leaving. “Were you needing something?”

“I was just heading to Professor Snape’s office, sir. We have a meeting,” Harry said, frowning as the man’s tongue darted out like a snake’s. It was that tic again.

“Ah, Snape,” Moody said almost knowingly. Harry began to feel the same uncomfortable feeling he always got around the man. “Got a dark past, he does. Know he almost went to Azkaban?”

Harry felt a spark of interest but pushed it down. “We’ve all got secrets.”

“Aye, that we do, boy,” Moody said, his magical eye rolling all around and his tongue poking out. “Some advice for yeh. Don’t trust Snape. He ain’t loyal to Dumbledore.”

Harry took a step back. “I really don’t think those two things go together.”

Moody’s face twisted into a disfigured smirk. “You’d be surprised, kid. Don’t trust ‘im. He’s got nothin’ but evil inside.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Suddenly Moody grabbed Harry’s right arm roughly and tightly. “Take a look at ‘is arm…if you can.” The man snickered and shoved Harry away.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to Moody’s flicking tongue again. “I-I have to go or-or I’ll be late. See you later, Professor.” He walked as fast as he could without running away from Moody and into the dungeons. He walked straight through the doors and into Snape’s rooms.

“The courtesy of knocking no longer exists?” Snape drawled, his eyebrows raised.

Harry just shrugged and dropped into the same chair he always occupied, accepting the same cup of tea. After a few sips, he reached into his bag and pulled out Mulligan’s book once again. Apparently there was a complex potion that would reveal the presence of a foreign soul fragment. It was a crazy potion, though, with many ingredients he had never even heard of. Until he figured out a solution to that problem, the book had given some ‘symptoms’ to watch for that could indicate a soul fragment. He was now well into the section on consequences of being the host of a soul fragment.

“And how are we today?” Snape asked casually, flipping through a Potions magazine.

Harry shrugged one shoulder, wincing when it was his recently injured one. “Fine, I guess. Nothing particularly noteworthy.”

“Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Snape asked.

“It’s fine,” Harry said dismissively.

“If you are in pain, I—“

“Really, it’s fine, Professor,” Harry said. “Just bumped the wall on the way here.”

Snape’s eyebrows furrowed, aware that large portions of information were being omitted. Thankfully, he did not push the matter.

In the silence, Harry turned as he read, throwing his legs over one arm of the chair and leaning against the other.

“One might think that were your chair given how often you occupy it and how comfortable you make yourself,” Snape observed.

Harry only gave him a cursory glance. “I suppose.”

“As you are a common presence and source of company, perhaps it is your chair.”

Harry raised his eyes, looking over his glasses. “Are you trying to give or sell me your chair?” he questioned.

Snape sighed. “No, idiot, I am attempting to make you feel more comfortable here by observing a space or spot as yours.”

Harry blinked, comprehending, before he smiled lightly. “I am comfortable here. This is probably the only place I really am comfortable anymore. Thank you for the gesture though. So it’s my chair now?”

“You appear to have claimed it long ago.”

Harry grinned. “Excellent. So I can kick people out of it.”

Snape just rolled his eyes and returned to his magazine.

“What do you know about the boy’s relatives and his home life?” Lucius asked Severus as they sipped glasses of wine.

“Virtually nothing,” Severus said. “I only have the vague comments Potter has made in passing. He’s quite good at evasion. Why do you ask?”

“He has some familiar mannerisms and reactions to certain situations.”

Severus smirked. “Spying on the boy, are we?”

“Simply observing,” Lucius said haughtily and Severus snorted quietly in disbelief. “Besides, do you really stand in a position to judge?”

“Ah, but I am meant to be watching the boy,” Severus said.

“Based on your role in the upcoming Task, I would say you’ve gone beyond simply watching,” Lucius said, grinning into his wine glass. “Not that there is anything wrong with it.”

“I do not have a choice,” Severus said, scowling though it was quite half-hearted. “One cannot deny merpeople, particularly a chief.”

“True,” Lucius conceded, “but to be in the situation to begin with.”

Severus just glared. After some time, Lucius sobered.

“I believe Potter has fallen—or been pushed—under the radar, as they say,” Lucius said.

“I have been trying to get him to speak to me about his home, but he refuses. He shuts down and instantly changes the subject,” Severus said, nodding.

“You know the signs, Severus,” Lucius said and Severus sighed, swirling his wine.

“He fits many and what has me truly worried is how he seems to fit another nearly every few days or week.”

Lucius' face tightened and they became silent, wondering what the truth was about the Boy Who Lived.

Harry slipped out of bed when Seamus—the last in their dorm—fell asleep and snuck down into the common room. He opened the Marauder’s Map and located Snape’s private storeroom. He silently cursed when he spotted Snape and Mr. Malfoy in Snape’s rooms.

Now what would he do? There was definitely an alarm on the room and they would both come running instantly.

He bit his lip, thinking.

You could not steal from the professor, Ron’s voice spoke up helpfully. You could get help instead by telling Malfoy or McGonagall or, I don’t know, Snape! The man who cares a hell of a lot about you these days.

No one will help me, Harry thought sadly. Look at Dumbledore.

Snape isn’t Dumbledore, Ron said. Snape cares about you. Dumbledore cares about a complicit chess piece.

Harry stared at the empty fireplace, his eyes burning.

No one ever believes me, he thought weakly. 

Snape will. He’s believed you about everything this year so far and he’s helped you with everything, Ron said.

Harry considered the idea but shook his head almost immediately. If anyone was going to help him, Dumbledore would have, and if not him, then Lupin or Sirius would have. Sirius would have answered a letter if he cared enough to save his godson’s life.

He looked at Snape’s room again and perked up when he saw Mr. Malfoy was leaving. He rushed out of the common room, throwing his invisibility cloak over his body. He quickly made his way down the Grand Staircase and into the dungeons. He peeked around the corner of the corridor holding Snape’s rooms and private stores. It appeared clear. He glanced at the map, finding Mr. Malfoy a few corridors away inside the Slytherin common room.

Probably getting things of Draco’s he missed last time, he thought off-handedly.

He cleared the map and shoved it in his pocket, walking down the hall. He stopped at the door to Snape’s stores. There were probably all kinds of wards and charms and locks on the door to stop thieves and intruders. He bit his lip in thought, pulling off his cloak. He contemplated the plain wooden door then shook his head. Maybe he was over-thinking it.

He slowly reached out and grabbed the handle, relieved when it didn’t shock or kill him. He pushed and, amazingly, the door swung open. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked around.

With a shrug, he quickly searched for what he needed.

Lucius sighed sadly as he left the Slytherin dorms, holding the rest of his son’s things in a small box in his pocket. That task was finally complete. He was quite tired now and did not feel like walking all the way to Hogsmeade to Apparate, so he headed back to Severus' rooms.

He rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when he found the door to Severus' stores open. He frowned. Was someone really stupid enough to steal from Severus Snape? Also, why wasn’t the professor there? He had an alarm that alerted him to thieves. Had the thief found a way to disable it?

He backed away, peeking around just enough to spot whoever it was.

The small stature and messy hair shocked him.

Potter?

Why would Potter be stealing potions from Severus and what exactly had he taken?

He watched, curious, as the boy put vials into his pockets and closed the storeroom door.

Lucius considered what to do. Should he stop the boy? Should he demand the boy return what he stole? Should he get Severus? Should he bring the boy to Severus? He quickly made a decision as he saw Potter begin to walk away.

“Mr. Potter,” he called out, stepping out into the hall. The boy spun, almost toppling over, his eyes wide. “A late hour to be so far from your Tower.”

He watched as the child continued to gape and steadily paled in fear. He felt some pity for the boy as he could imagine what was going through the child’s mind. Normally, he would ignore such situations but something was telling him to make sure this was investigated. Something was going on with Potter and it went beyond being pushed into a wall by schoolmates.

“Come along, Mr. Potter,” he said gently.

Potter began to violently shake his head and he frowned. What was wrong with this child?

Harry felt physically sick and his entire body was shaking. How could he have been caught? How could he have been stupid enough to not check the map? What would happen now? Mr. Malfoy was friends with Snape, surely he would be brought to the Potions master. They might even call Dumbledore! This couldn’t be happening! He had to find a way out, a way to stop them all from finding out.

Unintentionally, his stomach rolled with the stress and fear, and he was suddenly throwing up. Tears streamed down his face and he folded into a ball on the floor. How much worse could this get? None of them could find out what happened in Privet Drive.

Especially Snape. He was finally proving himself to the man, proving he wasn’t stupid or weak, and he was his own person. Snape would be disgusted if he knew Harry couldn’t handle a couple Muggles. And that was if Snape believed him! Things would end if Snape didn’t believe him. Snape would hate him again and he couldn’t go back to that! He couldn’t handle Snape hating him again, not now he had an adult that seemed to kind of care. He couldn’t lose that.

He buried his face in his knees as he sobbed. He jumped violently when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Everything’s alright, Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said gently. “Just take some deep breaths and calm down. Everything will be alright.”

Harry forced himself to listen, well, kind of. Mr. Malfoy had a similar effect on his as Snape. Something about the man caused him to relax. As such, it wasn’t long before he was breathing normally with a few tears falling quietly down his face. Once calmer, he peeked over his knees at the blonde man. The grey eyes—so much like Draco’s—were carefully watching him and were full of patience and even kindness.

“Alright now?” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry gave a tiny nod. Mr. Malfoy smiled. “Good. We’re going to see Professor Snape—“

Harry had started shaking his head again, his eyes wild.

Mr. Malfoy moved his hand to Harry’s knee. “Calm down. It’ll be alright. I will talk to him. He will not be angry with you. I will explain and he won’t be angry. Remember, I’m friends with the professor so I know how to talk to him.”

Harry stared at him, gauging the sincerity. After several moments he nodded, making Mr. Malfoy smile again.

“Very good,” the man said. “Come on now.”

Harry shakily got to his feet with the help of Mr. Malfoy and he grabbed his fallen invisibility cloak. With a comforting hand on his back, Harry was led down the corridor to Snape’s quarters. He shrunk in on himself the best he could as they entered the rooms and Snape came in. He watched as Mr. Malfoy went to the professor and they talked in hushed tones. Several expressions crossed Snape’s face and Harry shifted uncomfortably, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. Soon the men parted and approached Harry who looked at them anxiously.

Mr. Malfoy took a moment to kneel in front of Harry. “He wants to talk with you. He is not angry, I promise.”

Harry glanced at Snape’s familiar stoic expression nervously. He nodded at Mr. Malfoy a few moments later. The man smiled and squeezed Harry’s shoulder before swirling away through the Floo. Harry turned back to Snape, biting his lip as Snape stepped forward.

“Shall we sit, Mr. Potter?” Snape said, gesturing to their usual spots.

Harry sunk into his chair. Yes, it was now his chair. They had discussed it the other day. It had been a pleasant conversation. Somehow, he knew this would not be as pleasant.

“Tell me about the Dursleys,” the professor said.

He had been right.

“They hurt me.”

His eyes fell shut after the whisper. He honestly hadn’t planned on saying anything. He had resolved to keep his long-kept secret. In that split second, however, something had changed. He didn’t know what it was but it made him speak his admission. The truth was out. Would he be believed?

“Tell me.”

The tone was so gentle, so caring…

Harry’s eyes flew open and to the professor. The look in the man’s eyes, the look he had seen many times this year and had been unable to identify, caused his eyes to burn and fill with tears. They spilled over out of his control.

“You-you believe me?” he choked out and even more tears fell as Snape’s dark eyes softened.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“No-no one ever h-has.”

“And I am truly sorry that you have been let down so terribly and that I am among those who have done so.”

Harry’s chest ached, both in pain and joy. “You’re the only one who hasn’t.”

Snape gave him a small, gentle smile. “You have a very large heart, child. Now, do you think you can tell me?”

Harry didn’t speak but kept his gaze on Snape. Could he really tell someone? Could he finally share his pain, his sadness, his loneliness? Could he finally have someone—an adult—to trust, to confide in, to go to for help and comfort? Could he finally have what he had wanted all his life?

The silence was long and Snape had begun to think the boy wouldn’t say anything. Then the quiet story started and Snape was horrifically enthralled. Once given the chance, it seemed the boy had to release it all. Everything, every terrible detail, came out and the sad life of Harry Potter was pieced together.

Neglect, beatings, insults, lies, emotional trauma, the cupboard, the yelling, starvation…

Snape had sat back on the sofa, a hand over his mouth in horror as the story went on and on. The boy never stopped crying as he spoke but it all seemed to be a cleanse of sorts. It was all being released. This unbearable burden was being released because he was no longer alone.

It had to have been nearly a half hour later when Harry finally stopped speaking. A depressive, heavy silence descended. With a glance at his professor, Harry slowly got out of his chair and just quietly walked into the guestroom he had once stayed in. He crawled onto the bed and rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears still leaking out the corners of his eyes.

Severus' head was spinning and racing, and he couldn’t hold a single thought for more than a few seconds. He couldn’t put all he had heard into any form of coherence. It wasn’t as though this were new territory for him. It was actually quite familiar. He handled abused students of varying degrees of severity every year…in Slytherin. He never would have guessed that Harry Potter could be abused and definitely not so severely. He had fallen into the same trap as everyone else, instantly assuming the boy had a charmed life and missing all the signs the boy had tried and failed to hide.

He knew abuse could happen to anyone and he knew how to identify it.

So, how could he have let such a case slip by him?

How could they have all failed the child so badly? They had all left him alone without a single adult to turn to. They pretended they were there for the boy, but none of them were, not in the ways Potter truly needed.

In all of this, an abused Harry Potter had slid to the side and, in doing so, he had slid into the preconceived notion that he was charmed, special, and beyond needing adult help and intervention.

How careless and utterly wrong and blind they had all made themselves, and not one of them had a reason or excuse. There were none.

It was inexcusable.

He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, shaking his head sadly.

The poor child. It was a wonder Potter had survived and turned into the quiet, kind, open-hearted person he had discovered the child to be. There must’ve been a small, virtually unknown part of him that had unconsciously held onto the hope that, maybe, things would get better one day.

Severus stared at the fire with a far-away gaze. The boy had to be helped. He had to be removed from the Muggles’ care. He had to be healed, physically and mentally and emotionally. He had to be taken care of.

He pushed himself up off the sofa and walked into the guestroom. He watched the boy’s eyes track him calmly as he sat on the edge of the bed. Severus looked down at the child, unexpectedly reaching out and brushing the tears from the boy’s cheek. Their eyes remained locked.

“I’ll help you,” Severus said quietly.

“’Harry’,” the boy whispered, “and I know.”

“Harry.

Harry watched the clouds move across the sky as he leaned on the railing of the Astronomy Tower. It was a nice day considering it was only January although a cloak was still needed to block the wind. He glanced over at the Quidditch Pitch where some students were soaring through the air. He felt something urging him to get on a broom again, a feeling he hadn’t had since Ron died.

A lot seemed to have changed inside him. He felt…lighter, as though something that had been weighing him down had disappeared. Something had shifted, ever since that day with Snape. He never thought he would ever tell someone about the Dursleys but now he had, he was relieved of the burden he hadn’t even known was a burden. He supposed it also had to do with Snape and their relationship. He had things with Snape he had always wanted. He could go to Snape, he had trust in the man, Snape could and would help him…

Harry smiled to himself, watching an owl fly by into the Owlery. For the first time, he had an adult in his life. He had someone to turn to and take care of him. It was what he had always wanted though the fact that it was Snape was still somewhat shocking. Regardless, he finally had someone.

He frowned as his scar tingled then gasped as it burned with pain. As he wasn’t asleep, there was no image to go with the pain. It was rare that his scar hurt for no reason while he was awake. He needed to read more of Mulligan’s book and find out exactly what kind of trouble he could find himself in from his scar. The more he read, the more positive he became that he had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside his scar. Even in his own head it sounded insane.

He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head as he eased the pain. He was distracted by a strange, high-pitched sound and then a black figure burst into the sky from the Forbidden Forest. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to identify the creature but he had never seen anything like it. It was completely black with huge, thin, and boney wings. The entire body appeared skeletal. What was it and, if it lived in the Forest, how had he never seen one before?

“Magnificent, isn’t it?”

He turned his head and spotted Luna who came over to stand beside him.

“You mean the black thing?”

Luna nodded.

“Yeah, it’s amazing, but what is it?”

“It’s a Thestral. They’re commonly seen as bad omens.”

“Thestral,” Harry repeated, looking back at the still soaring creature. “What are they?”

“Very gentle creatures,” Luna said. “They have the reputation they do because of the nature of their existence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only those who have seen death can see Thestrals.”

Draco, he thought instantly.

“So, you’ve…”

She nodded again. “My mother. An experiment gone wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I miss her, but I still have Daddy. She was wonderful while I had her.”

Harry gave her a small smile.

“You two will have a wonderful life.”

He looked at her, but didn’t question it. She knew what she was talking about and he would learn.

“Someone’s hurt,” she said suddenly and his gaze flew to the grounds. He just managed to spot familiar blonde hair disappear into the castle.

“Luna, I-I have to go,” he said before racing from the Tower. He ran down the spiral staircase, his mind spinning as he attempted to guess what was going on. He didn’t know why he cared. It was only Mr. Malfoy. They barely knew each other and had only had one pleasant conversation which had only happened in Mr. Malfoy’s grief. Yet his heart was pounding painfully with the idea of Mr. Malfoy being hurt. He slid around the final corner to the Hospital Wing and found Snape just leaving the wing.

“Potter!” Snape said, grabbing the boy’s arm. “What is going on?”

“’Harry’,” he said off-handedly, “and I should be asking that. What’s happened? Is Mr. Malfoy okay?”

“Harry, calm down,” Snape said, releasing the child. “Lucius is fine. He is not the one in need of help.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It is Narcissa,” Snape said. “She has attempted to take her life.”

“Is she going to die?” Harry said quietly.

“I hope not, but I cannot say for sure,” Snape said. “She has taken an extremely deadly poison that has gotten into her blood stream. I must make the antidote.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Harry said. “You know what it is and what antidote it is, so she’ll be okay.”

Snape sighed. “There is a very limited time in which to administer the antidote. I believe I can do it in time, but there can still be issues.”

“So, it could go either way?”

Snape nodded. “I must go.”

“Yeah, go. Save her.”

Snape squeezed Harry’s arm before sweeping away to the dungeons. Once gone, Harry turned back to the Hospital Wing and slowly pushed through one of the doors. He peeked around the door, spotting Mr. Malfoy standing next to a bed and quietly talking to Madam Pomfrey. He slipped in and walked over to the Malfoy patriarch, gazing down at Mrs. Malfoy. He felt a pang in his heart at the sight of her. She was pale and unconscious and, quite frankly, already looked dead. Both her eyes were a dark, dark blue as though she had been hit hard. Beneath the obscenely white skin were tiny black tendrils throughout her face.

“Mr. Potter, how kind of you to come,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“I thought it was you hurt at first,” Harry said. “Did you—“

“Find her?” Harry nodded. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “It must’ve been terrible and so soon after…Draco.”

The man’s already drawn face fell further into sadness.

“Yes, it has been quite a difficult time,” Mr. Malfoy said. “On another note, I hear you and Professor Snape have made some progress.”

Harry unintentionally smiled a little. “He’s been really great.”

“I am glad to see the two of you getting along so well. You are good for each other. Believe me, he needs someone too.”

Harry looked at him. “Really?”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “I won’t say too much as it is his story to tell, but he has had a very lonely life like you.”

What had happened in Professor Snape’s life? The man seemed to understand his situation so maybe Snape had gone through something similar. Maybe one day he would find out.

“I’d like to thank you for coming and for your concern, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It was unexpected but much appreciated.”

“Well, we may not have much between us but I still want you both to be alright. You’ve been kind to me, even since Draco,” Harry said. “I don’t have many people in my life, especially adults.”

Mr. Malfoy smiled at him and put a hand on Harry’s back. “You are quite a remarkable child and very strong considering your hardships this year. I am pleased to help you how I can.”

Harry blinked owlishly then quirked a tiny smile. How had he come to have more adults to care for him than he had ever hoped for? How had things changed so much and so fast?

“Potter!”

Harry turned his head to see Seamus Finnigan and a couple other Gryffindors leave their spots and come join him in his isolated place at the end of Gryffindor table.

“Can I help you, Seamus?” Harry said, slightly stand-offish. Seamus had been one of the first to turn on him for being a champion and was one of the most vocal about it. When he beat the dragon, Seamus suddenly changed his mind and supported him as a champion. However, he still heard Seamus agreeing with those that blamed him for Ron and Draco. Suffice to say Seamus wasn’t one of his favourite people.

“Hear the Malfoys are in the Hospital Wing,” Seamus said, sitting across from Harry. “It true?”

“What does it matter?” Harry said.

“It matters because we’ve also heard you’ve been paying them some visits,” Seamus said. “See, if that’s true then that would make you a traitor.”

Harry took a final bite of his breakfast and pushed his plate away, looking at the Irish boy. “I thought I already was one?”

“And we thought you were redeeming yourself,” Seamus snapped.

Harry glared at the other Gryffindor. “I have nothing to redeem myself for.” He suddenly heard Snape’s comforting voice in his head. “Nothing that’s happened has been my fault.”

Some part of him was finally starting to believe it, after all the times Snape had said it.

Seamus’ face twisted and he leaned threateningly across the table towards Harry. “It is all always your fault. All the danger and death follows you because the dark is after you. You have caused all of this and the time is coming that you face the consequences for those you’ve killed and not killed.”

Harry frowned. “Who am I not killing?”

“The Malfoys, who you’re clearly becoming pals with.”

“I’m not killing anyone.”

“You should, but get it right this time.

“I haven’t killed anyone.”

“We all beg to differ.”

With a snarl, Seamus and the others got up and left. Harry watched them go with his own hurt glare. He knew people still blamed him for Ron and Draco but he hadn’t realized the extent of it. To be getting threats from his own house. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair then left the Great Hall. Without realizing, he found himself heading outside. Luckily he had an old, thick Weasley sweater on to protect against the winter chill. He walked along the lake, stopping near the tree and gazing down at the ground. He crouched down and brushed away the light layer of snow covering the engraved stone. He ran his fingers over Ron’s name before standing back up.

He wasn’t sure he would ever fully believe that Ron was truly gone. He still found himself wanting to go to Ron and tell him everything before remembering it was impossible. He would never get over losing Ron. How did you get over the death of your best friend? There were so many things in life they should’ve experienced together. They were only fourteen. There were so many things that still had to come to pass. Fourteen was young.

He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest, almost defensively. He was glad he had Snape, though, someone who clearly understood.

“Mr. Potter, it seems we both had the same idea.”

Harry looked up at Mr. Malfoy who stopped beside him. The man gently used his foot to push the snow from his son’s stone beside Ron’s.

“Seems like,” Harry said, turning back to Ron’s stone.

“You know, I never wanted Draco to have the childhood and life I had,” Mr. Malfoy said. “I knew it was likely he would become more like a Malfoy than I wanted simply because of the circumstances he grew up under. His mother, however, went way beyond just spoiling him.”

“What kind of childhood did you have? What was so bad about it?” Harry said.

“I suppose anyone outside would scoff at the idea of there being anything wrong with my life,” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry gave a small shrug in agreement. “My father was not a nice man and not much of a father, quite frankly. I’ve worried I would make all the same mistakes and, in some cases, I have.”

“Like what?”

“In my effort to not be my father, I failed to effectively discipline Draco. He needed discipline, I know, but I was afraid I would lose control.”

Harry glanced at him. “I think I’d be the same if I ever have kids. Hard to know what to do when you’ve never had a good example.”

“Many of us are in the same frame of mind,” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry frowned, wondering who else the man was referring to. “In any case, I allowed Draco to take advantage of his advantages, and did nothing to stop it or his mother. His mother encouraged his behaviour.”

“If it helps, I think he was growing up and realizing his act wasn’t working,” Harry said.

Mr. Malfoy gave him a gentle look. “I think you had a lot to do with that.”

“Really?”

Mr. Malfoy nodded. “Your ability to stand up to his ridiculous behaviour continued to knock him down. He needed it.”

Harry gave a half-smile. “I don’t like bullies.”

Mr. Malfoy’s face crumbled slightly. “I can only imagine and I am so very sorry he was one.”

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly. “He’s probably driving Ron insane.”

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. “They could be fairly volatile.”

Harry grinned a little. “They loved going at each other. They might’ve made good friends if they’d had the chance.”

“I think you all could’ve been,” Mr. Malfoy said.

But we’ll never know, Harry thought sadly.

Harry sunk into his chair and sipped his tea. He leaned his head back and relaxed for the time being, ignoring the various texts he had on the coffee table. He had a ton of research to do…but it could wait. For now, he wanted to enjoy the comfort and solitude of Snape’s rooms.

“And how are we today?” Snape asked.

“Fine. Threatened by some Gryffindors, visited Ron, and chatted with Mr. Malfoy, all before lunch. A fairly productive day, if I do say so myself,” Harry said, aloof and not recognizing Snape’s alarmed expression.

“Threatened?”

“Just Seamus. He’s harmless, mostly due to incapability. I’ll be fine,” Harry said, shrugging. “I’ve got more important people to worry about.”

Snape frowned. “Such as?”

“I think Moody could potentially be a problem,” Harry said, noticing the man’s frown deepen. “I have nothing to prove anything; just my feelings whenever I’m around him.”

“Have you brought your concerns to anyone?” Snape said.

“You, right now,” Harry said and Snape shot him a disapproving glare. “Because I should be saying something every time I feel somewhat weird around someone?”

“No, only when you feel threatened or in danger. Has he done anything?”

“No, and that’s why I haven’t said anything. It’s just how I feel when I’m around him. He just makes me uncomfortable but he hasn’t done anything to me.”

“But you have seen him do something?”

“Not exactly. I just saw him with Karkaroff who is less than stellar himself in a storeroom. It just seemed odd.”

“He was with Karkaroff?” Harry nodded. “What were they doing?”

“I don’t know. It seemed like I caught the end of whatever it was,” Harry said with a shrug. “They had been looking at Karkaroff’s arm though.”

Harry frowned when he noticed Snape put a hand on his left forearm.

“It was probably nothing,” Snape said. Harry recognized the man’s voice had become somewhat shaky. Something about the situation was clearly bothering him. “Speaking of storerooms, have you taken any ingredients from mine?”

Harry’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “What? No, why would I?”

“I would have originally thought so you could attempt to make the potions you had tried to steal.”

Harry flushed and dropped his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to brew them. I’m no good at brewing, remember? Besides, you said you would help and…I trust you.”

Snape blinked at the boy in surprise. He knew the child had difficulties trusting people, especially adults. A part of him was touched that he had managed to gain such a fragile gift.

“What was stolen?”

Harry’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Pardon?”

“What ingredients were stolen?” the boy repeated. “The way you were talking, doesn’t seem like it was just ingredients for Pain Relievers.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Snape said. “The ingredients missing point towards Polyjuice Potion.”

“Polyjuice Potion! Why would I need that?” Harry said, instantly flashing back to second year.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I know it was you and your friends that stole the same ingredients two years ago.” Harry turned bright red. “I don’t want to know why you were brewing Polyjuice Potion at twelve years old.”

Harry gave a small grin and shrugged a shoulder. “So,” he moved on, “if someone’s stealing your ingredients then they’re obviously in the castle.”

“It would appear so.” Snape nodded.

“That means someone isn’t who they say they are,” Harry said in realization, his eyes growing wide. “Do you think whoever it is, is the one who entered me in the tournament?”

“It is very likely,” Snape said. “I don’t image there are many other reasons to use Polyjuice to get inside Hogwarts.”

Harry swallowed thickly and stared at the fire. Whoever this person was, he could be interacting with them on a daily basis and have no idea they were Polyjuiced. 

“Is it possible to tell if someone is under Polyjuice Potion?” Harry asked.

“There are…ways, but they rely on someone having a personal, intimate knowledge of either participant, either the real person or the Polyjuice persona. Differences in behaviour or mannerisms could be detected,” Snape explained. “Because the potion doesn’t change those kinds of things, right?”

“Right. Polyjuice is strictly physical changes. It cannot change one’s mentality or behaviour.”

“So, say someone had some kind of chronic body movement…”

“The potion would not change it. The body movement would still happen under the potion’s persona,” Snape said and looked at him curiously. “Do you have someone in particular in mind?”

“No, no,” Harry said quickly. “Just thinking.”

Snape hummed though it was clear he didn’t completely believe Harry. “If you did think of something, you would tell me?”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“He said he trusts me,” Severus said, handing a glass of wine to his friend.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Lucius said, confused.

“Not necessarily,” Severus said. “It is unexpected. He is not one that trusts adults.”

“So, what exactly is the problem?” Lucius said. “You should be elated that you have gained his trust. You care for each other. This is a good thing.”

“The problem is this.” Severus pulled back the sleeve on his left arm, revealing a faded but still clear Dark Mark. He scowled down at the tattoo that had slowly been regaining colour all year. What would Harry think when he found out?

“Why would it be an issue?” Lucius said. “He knows about me and he’s fine with it. He understands.”

“You didn’t kill his parents!” Severus snapped.

Lucius' face hardened. “We’ve been over this, Severus. You did not cause the Potters’ deaths.”

“I was involved,” Severus said.

“You did what you had to do to survive,” Lucius said. 

“And that excuses me leading them to their deaths?” Severus said. “Harry could have grown up with his parents.”

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Lucius said and Severus looked at him sharply.

“What are you talking about?”

Lucius sighed. “Whether Voldemort had known the prophecy or not, he still would’ve gone after the Potters and Longbottoms. They were powerful enemies that would have stood in his way. It all would’ve happened just as it did.”

Severus turned back to the fireplace. “I don’t think Harry will see it that way.”

“Maybe he will. Will you tell him?”

“I have to, or he’ll find out some other way.”

“How?”

“Voldemort is gaining power and he has followers inside this school,” Severus said. “It will come out from someone. I have to tell him before that happens and he has to know before I continue with my plan.”

Lucius frowned. “Who’s in the school?”

“Karkaroff, for one,” Severus said. “Who would have no qualms taking us down. There’s also whoever is under Polyjuice Potion.”

“You think whoever it is, is a follower?” Lucius said.

“Why else would they use Polyjuice?”

Lucius nodded in agreement.

“Whoever they are, they pose a danger to Harry,” Severus said.

“Think they’ll try something?”

Severus' expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I think they’re in the midst of their plan, something to do with Harry having to be in the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Hoping he’ll be killed?” Lucius said.

Severus shook his head. “I don’t think so but I don’t know what their goal is.”

“Hopefully we won’t find out,” Lucius said and Severus nodded.

Harry rubbed his forehead with a deep sigh as his scar burned. It seemed to be happening more often during the day lately and the nightmares were only continuing. Voldemort’s power was growing and so was their connection. At this point, he was almost positive that a piece of Voldemort’s soul had latched onto him and was in his scar. He wanted to ask Snape to help him make the potion that would confirm it. He wanted to know so he could find a way to remove it. Things could get really bad the longer he played host.

He sighed again, knocking on the office door but entering before receiving a response. He was automatically heading for his chair but stopped abruptly when he noticed Mr. Malfoy. 

“Oh, hello, sir,” Harry said to the blonde. “Sorry, is this not a good time?”

“No, no,” Snape said, shaking his head. “We were just chatting. Take a seat. Lucius, you will have to vacate Harry’s chair.”

Harry blushed. “No, it’s alright, really. I can sit somewhere else.”

Mr. Malfoy waved his hand and rose from the chair. “Not a problem, Mr. Potter. I would not wish to displace you from your favourite spot.”

Still slightly pink, Harry quirked a small smile and sank into his chair. He watched curiously out the corner of his eye as Mr. Malfoy whispered to Snape, the Potions master’s face hardening slightly. It wasn’t in anger, however, but as though he were steeling himself for something. The man’s eyes flickered to him and Harry felt himself tense in anticipation for what he felt was going to be an unpleasant conversation.

“I am off for the evening,” Mr. Malfoy said suddenly. “I will see you tomorrow, Severus. Have a good night, Mr. Potter.”

“You too, sir,” Harry said.

With a smile, Mr. Malfoy left the rooms through the door rather than the Floo.

Odd, he usually takes the Floo, Harry thought absently.

“How are you, Harry?” Snape said.

“Hm? Oh, I’m fine,” Harry said. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a potion,” Harry said. “It’s a complicated potion and I’d never be able to brew it myself. I was hoping you could help me.”

“And what is this potion?”

“It identifies the presence of a foreign soul.”

A heavy silence fell as Snape digested the information. “A foreign soul?”

“That book I’ve been reading by Mulligan?” Snape nodded. “Not just light reading. Things have changed this year with my scar.”

“How so?”

“It started hurting over the summer, burning. It happens more often now. I’ve also had nightmares that I don’t think are just nightmares. My scar hurts a lot when I wake up from them.”

“Why do you think they are more than nightmares?”

“I’ve had at least one confirmed to have actually happened.”

Snape frowned.

Harry sighed. “I had this nightmare over the summer. I was in a house and there was a Muggle. He went up to this room and Pettigrew, another man, and Voldemort were there. Voldemort wasn’t human and he was talking to the one man, giving him a job. He was telling the man he wanted me. They ended up noticing the Muggle and Voldemort killed him. I mentioned this to Draco at one point and he said it actually happened, Pettigrew told his father about it.”

“A vision of sorts?” Snape said and Harry shrugged.

“Maybe. It’s something and it points to some connection between me and Voldemort. From everything that I’ve read, it’s more than likely I have a part of Voldemort’s soul in my scar. I think it happened when he tried to kill me as a baby.”

“Is that possible?”

“Apparently,” Harry said with another sigh. “I don’t know the entire process but I know it involves murder. Heavy stuff.”

“And this potion?”

“It will confirm the presence of any other soul or soul fragment besides my own. Will you help?”

“I will, but,” Snape said, taking a deep breath, “there is something I must tell you.”

Harry frowned and felt his stomach turn, feeling unsettled again. Whatever he was about to hear, it was serious. He tensed when Snape leaned forward towards him.

“I have made grave mistakes in my life but there is one I have regretted above all. I am a selfish man and I made selfish choices. I try but I know I will never be redeemed,” Snape said, his voices low.

Harry swallowed thickly.

“I knew your mother when we were children and when we came to Hogwarts. I made a mistake in our fifth year and it ended our friendship. We never spoke again. The loss combined with my already difficult childhood pushed me down a terrible path and to make a disastrous choice. To progress in my position and to survive, I made another decision that became a part of the reason your parents were killed.”

Harry’s stomach dropped and his expression began to harden. With what appeared to be guilt, remorse, and fear in his eyes, Snape pulled back the sleeve on his left arm. Harry felt his world spin out of control as his gaze found the darkening tattoo on the professor’s forearm.

The Dark Mark.

His eyes burned and filled as he raised them to Snape’s face. The man’s face was pained but Harry didn’t take notice. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding. He found himself shaking his head and getting unsteadily to his feet. He couldn’t believe it; it couldn’t be true. He could trust Snape; Snape was helping him and cared about him. He couldn’t be a Death Eater!

“Harry—“

“No,” Harry whispered, still shaking his head. “No.”

“Harry—“

Without speaking, Harry ran past the sofa and Snape, and out of the rooms. He raced out of the dungeons, heading up to Gryffindor Tower. He stumbled up the stairs in his effort to get away. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes, a deep sob rising in his throat. He gasped as he crashed into a hard chest, almost falling backwards down the stairs before a scarred, gnarled hand grabbed his arm.

“P-Professor,” Harry said. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Somethin’ the matter, Potter?” Moody growled.

“Just got some-some bad news,” Harry said, trying to hold back his tears.

“Finally learned the truth about that snake Snape?” Moody said and Harry looked up at him with a frown. The man’s tongue was darting out and his face was twisting. Harry felt a jolt in his stomach and he tried to pull away. “All this time he’s had you in reach and he’s done nothin’. Our lord will be so disappointed but I will be able to do what all others have failed to.”

Harry felt a stab of fear and made a final attempt to escape, but he failed and found himself suddenly falling. He saw a flash of a maniacal grin on Moody’s face before there was a crack of pain in his skull, and everything went black.

“Headmaster, Potter cannot return to his Muggle relatives,” Severus said. “They are abusive towards the boy.”

Dumbledore gave Severus a steady look. “I know.”

Severus' eyes hardened. “You know?”

Dumbledore clasped his hands on his desk. “I haven’t completely ignored the boy since I placed him in Privet Drive. I have kept watch to ensure no danger has entered that house.”

“And you’ve done nothing?” Severus snarled.

“What is it you expected me to do?” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair.

“Stop it! Take him away! Anything besides letting him be beaten all his life!” Severus shouted. “I had hoped you would have learned after me!”

“He cannot leave Privet Drive,” Dumbledore said. “And there was nowhere you could have gone.”

“You know as well as I do that I could have become a ward of Hogwarts and the same could be done for Potter,” Severus said in a dangerously low voice.

“The Ministry will not allow Harry to become a ward of the school,” Dumbledore said.

“The Ministry does not have a say in it, which you know perfectly well.” Severus glared. “Why do you refuse to help the boy?”

Dumbledore’s face became steely. “I am helping him. I am helping him learn to survive. He needs the strength to fight and survive the war that is coming.”

“Do not put a man’s war on a child,” Severus said.

“It was done the moment that prophecy was brought to Voldemort.”

Severus took a physical step back at the harsh words and he knew pain had crossed his face. He had no time to respond as the office door opened behind him, admitting Lucius Malfoy.

“My apologies for interrupting,” Lucius said. “Severus, something has happened.”

“What is it?” Severus said.

“It’s Harry,” Lucius said. “He’s in the Hospital Wing. He’s been hurt.”

Severus felt his heart drop and he swiftly followed Lucius down to the Hospital Wing. He couldn’t believe the suffocating fear he was feeling at the thought of Harry being hurt. He didn’t question it anymore; he knew what it meant. He knew he cared about the child. He was surprised how much he cared but that was all.

They rushed into the Wing and over to the bed occupied by an unconscious Harry. Madam Pomfrey was still treating the wounds Harry had acquired. The boy’s arm was bent at a strange angle and there was a large gash running from his right temple into his hair.

“What happened?” Severus asked.

“I found him,” Lucius said, “at the bottom of some stairs. Seems he fell.”

“He only just left my rooms an hour or so ago,” Severus said. “How did this happen?”

“I do not believe he fell,” Pomfrey said and both men frowned deeply. “From his injuries, it appears he hit the stairs backwards but much harder than if he had simply fallen. I believe he was pushed.”

“Pushed?” Lucius said, startled. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Unfortunately there are many,” Severus said. “How is he, Poppy?”

The woman sighed. “He is very bruised and his arm is broken. However, the worst is his head. He hit it very hard and he has a terrible crack in his skull. I won’t know if there are any effects until he wakes up…if he wakes up.”

“He may not?” Lucius said quietly.

“With the extent of this injury, there is a possibility,” Pomfrey said.

Severus stayed silent and stared down at the child, worried. He gently touched the boy’s hair and then stroked his cheek. The fear was still present and he could tell it wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. He had to know Harry would be alright. The idea of losing the child was unfathomable. He never knew he could care about someone so much, least of all Harry Potter.

Yet it had happened and he wasn’t unhappy about it. The boy had begun to change him for the better.

“You are staying with the boy?” Pomfrey said, stepping back as she finally finished treating Harry’s injuries.

“Yes,” Severus said, automatically pulling up a chair. He watched as Lucius did the same on the other side of the bed.

“Very well,” Pomfrey said with a nod. “Come get me if anything changes.”

“I will, Poppy,” Severus said and the medi-witch slipped into her office.

“I’m sure he will be fine, Severus,” Lucius said.

“We don’t know that,” Severus said. “He hit his head so hard. Not even magic can fix such a wound.”

“He’s strong,” Lucius said. “I’m sure he can pull through.”

“He hasn’t been feeling too strong this year,” Severus said, sighing and lightly brushing Harry’s hair.

Lucius cast a sad glance at the boy. “What happened? If Harry left your rooms an hour ago, he wasn’t there very long.”

Severus sighed and took his hand away from Harry’s hair as though he may suddenly hurt the boy. “I told him. I told him about the Mark and what I did, what I caused. He didn’t take it well.”

“What did he say?” Lucius asked.

“Nothing, he just ran.”

Lucius looked at his friend sympathetically, catching the sad expression the man had as he stared down at Harry. It was fascinating watching their relationship grow. They needed each other so desperately and didn’t even know it.

“Give him some time to process,” Lucius said.

“He may not have time!” Severus shouted jumping to his feet. “This may be it and the last thing he’ll remember about me is something terrible.”

Lucius just reached out and clasped Harry’s hand, hoping to provide some comfort as he watched his friend.

“I could never be his guardian, especially now,” Severus whispered before sweeping out of the infirmary.

“Got yourself in some trouble this time,” Ron said, throwing stones as far as he could. 

“When don’t I?” Harry said, staring up at the dark, cloudy sky. “I don’t remember everything.”

“Hit your head pretty hard, mate, it’s not surprising,” Ron said.

“Am I going to die?”

“I hope not. You should be able to wake up if you listen.”

“Listen? Listen to what?”

“Lucius and Snape. You’ll hear them when you’re ready.”

Harry tensed at the mention of Snape. He looked at Ron when he heard a deep sigh.

“Why did you run away from Snape that night?” Ron asked.

“Because he’s a Death Eater! He told me and showed me the Mark!” Harry said loudly.

“You hurt him by running.”

“Like I care. He probably doesn’t even care about me, just working for his ‘Lord’.”

“Harry,” Ron said with a sigh. “Having the Mark doesn’t mean Death Eater.”

“That’s the only thing it means. Why else would someone have it?”

“A mistake,” Ron said and Harry looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Protecting a family? There are other reasons. Mr. Malfoy, for instance, has some other reasons which you’ve accepted. So why are you judging Snape?”

Harry didn’t answer for a time, looking out into the dim distance in thought. Why was he judging Snape when he didn’t judge Mr. Malfoy? They had the same Mark, had followed the same madman, had both apparently turned away from that side…so what was different? He hadn’t even let Snape tell him everything; he’d just run away.

He was always running away and what had it ever gotten him? Loneliness, sadness, distance from people who had only tried to care about him…

That’s all Snape had clearly been trying and learning to do. They had both been learning. Learning to care and let someone into their lives. And at the first sign of something difficult, he ran. He had expected Snape would be the one to pull away but it had been him. He had focused on the bad and had completely ignored the fact that Snape had said he had known Harry’s mother. Someone knew his mother rather than his father! Sure, everyone had known them both, but it was only ever James that was really talked about.

“Harry?”

He turned to look at Ron again.

“You have a chance,” Ron said, “if you give him a chance.”

Harry’s eyes slowly slid open, cringing at the bright light that made his head pound. A searing pain ran steadily through his skull and he groaned. The agony was making the voices around him muffled and all images were blurry beyond recognition. He also couldn’t seem to capture a single thought. It was all a jumbled, incoherent mess and it hurt to even try.

“Harry? Don’t try to move, dear, just stay still and relax,” a feminine voice said gently.

“Wha’—“

“You had a bit of a nasty fall down some stairs,” the woman said. “You hit your head very hard.”

He fell down stairs? When? How?

“Are you in pain?” the voice asked.

“Yeah,” Harry rasped.

“Here’s a potion for the pain.” Cool glass was pressed against his lips and he managed to part them just enough to swallow the liquid. “Very good, dear. I’m going to ask you some questions to make sure you have no permanent damage from your head wound.”

Harry gave a short nod, grateful for the fast-acting potion.

“What is your name?”

“Harry...Harry James Potter.”

“What is your age?”

“I’m four...fourteen.”

“What year is it?”

“Nineteen ninety-five.”

“Very good. You seem to be alright, but you will still be here for at least another week.”

Harry nodded again, blinking as his vision finally cleared. He spotted Madam Pomfrey first, watching her walk to her office. He slowly moved one and was shocked to see Mr. Malfoy and Snape on either side of his bed.

“How’re you feeling, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Malfoy asked.

But Harry didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Snape. There were stirrings in his chest and in his mind. He could tell there was something he was forgetting, something that happened while he was unconscious, and he knew it was important but he just couldn’t remember. However, he did remember that Snape had the Dark Mark and he couldn’t help the fearful, betrayed feeling he had.

“Harry?” Snape said. 

“Get out,” Harry said quietly, hurt bleeding into his voice.

“Harry—“

“Get out! Leave me alone!” Harry shouted and dropped his eyes to his lap. He missed Snape’s pained face and the way the man looked across at Mr. Malfoy. The blonde gave an uncertain, sympathetic look to his friend, watching as the Potions master slowly left the Hospital Wing. Harry closed his eyes as tears began to fall.

“Mr. P—“

“Just ‘Harry’, please, sir,” Harry whispered. He ran his fingers over the bandaging on his right arm.

“Harry,” Mr. Malfoy conceded. “What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Harry said shortly.

Mr. Malfoy regarded the child, noticing but not commenting on the tears. He moved his gaze to the bandage on Harry’s temple. Red had started to show through. “How is your head?”

Harry shrugged. “Potion helped. Doesn’t hurt now.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

Harry shook his head. “I remember leaving Snape’s rooms and going up to Gryffindor Tower. I don’t remember falling or being pushed.”

Mr. Malfoy slowly reached up to the bandage then paused. “May I?”

Harry met the man’s eyes. He recognized the expression. He had seen it from Snape several times. His chest ached with the affection and with the slight remorse about Snape. He nodded and kept their eyes connected as Mr. Malfoy’s fingers lightly touched the bandage, and brushed his hair aside. Unintentionally, his eyes closed at the touch, soaking in the gentleness.

“Can you tell me what’s happened between you and Professor Snape?” Mr. Malfoy said, bringing his hand down to rest on the boy’s arm.

Harry’s eyes fell again. “You’ll just take his side.”

“We may be friends, but I don’t side with him if he is wrong.”

Harry chewed his lip. Mr. Malfoy was probably one of the best people to talk to about the whole thing. “He told me about the Dark Mark, showed it to me.” He felt tears build up again. “He said he was part of the reason my parents were killed. He-he’s a Death Eater! I thought he cared about me!”

“Harry,” Mr. Malfoy said earnestly, squeezing his arm. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”

“Pretty easy to understand,” Harry snapped, a few tears falling. “Having the Mark doesn’t mean much else.”

“Perhaps, but the reasoning behind getting the Mark may provide a different insight.”

“Why else would someone have it besides being a Death Eater?”

“A mistake? Protecting a family? There are other reasons.”

Harry raised his eyes to Mr. Malfoy with a frown. There was a strong feeling of déjà vu attached to the blonde’s words. It was as though he had heard them before.

“Now, the professor does care about you, very much,” Mr. Malfoy said. “It’s why he told you this. He didn’t want to keep such a secret from you.”

“He said he caused their deaths,” Harry said weakly.

Mr. Malfoy sighed and gave him a sad look. “That is something you will have to talk to him about.”

“I don’t think I can,” Harry said. “How am I supposed to trust him?”

“He hasn’t changed, Harry,” the man said. “He’s still the same man he was before he told you. He’s still the same man that’s been helping you and taking care of you. You just know a little bit more about him.”

“It changes everything!” Harry argued.

“How?” Mr. Malfoy challenged.

“Because he lied! He didn’t tell me! He’s just like everyone else!” A sob tumbled out of his mouth.

“How is he like everyone else?”

“Everyone’s always lied. They’ve never cared. They just want to hurt me.”

“Harry—“

Harry shook his head and pulled his arm away, using it to wipe his damp face. “Just go, Mr. Malfoy, please. I’d rather be alone.”

Mr. Malfoy’s face fell and he let out a deep breath. He pushed himself reluctantly to his feet. “I think it’d be alright if you called me ‘Lucius’. I think we can pass this formality.”

Harry said nothing and kept his eyes locked on his hands. He listened to the man’s steps as they got further away before disappearing. As soon as the silence descended, Harry lay on his side and let the rivers of tears fall freely down his cheeks onto the pillow.

“Glad to see you back, Potter,” Moody grumbled as Harry walked into the Defense classroom. Harry stared at the old Auror as he took his seat. He glanced at the board and blanched at what was written.

Morsmorde.

This had to be a joke. The man couldn’t possibly be teaching them about the Dark Mark. Was Moody trying to make himself look like a Dark wizard and a follower of Voldemort?

Harry looked around, noticing shocked faces around the room. He frowned deeply at the professor and gave a shake of his head. He grabbed his bag and immediately walked out of the class.

“Potter!” Moody called. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?”

“Not feeling well,” Harry said shortly and left. He leaned against the wall once out in the corridor. He breathed slowly, trying to calm the anxiety that had filled him when he had seen Moody. He’d always been uncomfortable around the man but this was different. It was stronger and more a fear of being harmed. He felt Moody could actually harm him.

He considered what to do and finally decided to go outside. He quickly summoned his cloak as he headed out, smiling a little to himself at how easy it had become. He walked along the Black Lake for a time, still wondering how he was meant to survive in the Second Task. Anything he had found was way too advanced for him to even try.

He looked away and continued on, changing his path to head towards the Quidditch Pitch. He hadn’t been to the pitch much that year with the tournament and everything else. It was empty and he sat in the Gryffindor stands.

As he settled, he glanced at the Slytherin stands. He hadn’t spoken to Lucius—it was still very weird thinking of Mr. Malfoy like that—or Snape in nearly a week. He had finally been released from the Hospital Wing the day before. In his final week there, neither of the men had returned. Despite what had happened, despite having told them to leave, it still hurt to receive no more visits. They were the only adults he had in his life. He didn’t want to lose them.

So why are you pushing them away? Ron’s voice interrupted.

“Harry!”

He looked up and found the Weasley twins heading his way. He smiled as they climbed up a few rows and sat on the one just below him.

“How’s it going, kid?” Fred said.

Harry shrugged. “Alright, I guess.”

“Considering you’re supposed to be in class, something must be going on,” George said and Harry sighed.

“Moody,” Harry said. “I just don’t get very good feelings around him.”

“You’ve noticed it too?” George said, causing Harry to frown at them. “We know Moody, through our dad.”

“And while he’s always been paranoid and crazy,” Fred continued, “there’s something different."

“What’s different?” Harry said.

“He’s…” The twins looked at each other, “sadistic. He was never sadistic.”

“Dumbledore would know if there was something wrong with Moody, wouldn’t he? He obviously knows Moody,” Harry said.

The twins nodded. 

“It’s probably nothing then,” Harry said, looking out to the Pitch. “Probably just paranoid from…everything.”

“Probably,” the twins said.

They fell silent for a while, dwelling on thoughts of their odd professor.

“How’s your head?” George asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s all healed up, but I still don’t remember what happened after I left Snape’s rooms,” Harry said. “Madam Pomfrey said everything points to me being pushed, but I just don’t remember.”

“It was probably some Slytherins,” Fred said.

“Or even Seamus,” George added.

“I don’t think it was Seamus,” Harry said, shaking his head. “He’s just all talk. He could never actually do anything.”

The twins nodded in agreement.

“So, what do you remember from before you left the dungeons?” Fred asked pointedly.

“It was just a meeting with Snape,” Harry said vaguely.

“Whatever happened in that meeting has caused you to stop talking to him,” Fred said.

“It’s been over a week since you’ve been down to his rooms,” George said.

“So, what? It’s not like I live there,” Harry said, hoping they could avoid the rest of the topic.

“No, but it’s where you like to be,” George said. “And you used to like being with Snape?”

“What happened?” Fred asked.

“Nothing,” Harry said shortly.

“Harry,” they pushed.

“I’m not sure I should talk about it,” he argued weakly.

“You know we wouldn’t tell.”

Harry looked at them, chewing his bottom lip. Eventually, he sighed deeply. “Snape told me something bad and I’m trying to figure it all out.”

“What was it?”

Harry felt his expression tighten and he looked past the twins again at the open field. “He’s got the Dark Mark and somehow he was involved in my parents’ murders.”

Fred and George stared at him in a stunned silence. Harry tried to focus on something else to stop the anger he felt building up.

“Did he tell you anything else? Like why he took the Mark? Or how he was involved in the attack? Or why he was telling you?” George said.

Harry shook his head again. “I left after he told me. I didn’t want to hear anymore.”

“You didn’t let him explain?” Fred said and then sighed when Harry stayed quiet. “Harry, you need to hear everything.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything else from him? He’s nothing but a liar and a traitor,” Harry snapped angrily.

“Harry, don’t you say that,” George said, almost admonishing the younger Gryffindor.

“How could you even think that?” Fred said. “He has done nothing but help you this year.”

“And he’s cared about you,” George added. “You’ve got an adult that cares about you.”

“But how do I know any of it was real?” Harry said, his eyes growing sad. “How can I trust anything from him anymore?”

“How has anything changed?” Fred asked. “Isn’t he still the same person?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know, that’s the thing.”

“Don’t you think you should find out?” Fred said. 

“Give him a chance?” George said.

“But he was loyal to Voldemort!” Harry argued. “He took the Mark. He made that choice. He did things with the Death Eaters for Voldemort because he was loyal.”

“Does that mean he still is?” Fred said. “Look at Lucius Malfoy. What’s the difference?”

Harry dropped his head with a quiet sob. “He’s supposed to care about me.”

The twins just looked at each other, realizing they had no idea how to help their young friend. They sat with Harry in comforting silence.

“He won’t talk to me or even look at me anymore, Lucius,” Severus said, running a hand over his face in distress.

“You had to tell him, Severus,” Lucius said.

“Did I?” Severus said. “Seems things were going better before I told him.”

“Well, of course they were. Did you expect him to just accept all of this instantly?”

“You said he would,” Severus argued. “All that stuff about how he accepted you and your Mark so he should do the same for me.”

“He will accept it,” Lucius said, “with time. He was able to accept my situation because we had no relationship. You two do, though, and he’s going to need time.”

“How long am I meant to wait?”

“Why the hurry?”

Severus let out a breath. “I want to become his guardian.”

Lucius’ eyes widened. “His guardian?”

Severus nodded. “He can’t go back to his relatives and Dumbledore isn’t going to do anything. The boy needs someone.”

“You think you’re ready for that?” Lucius said and Severus looked at him seriously.

“I know I can’t just ignore and abandon him, not anymore.”

Lucius gave him a smile. His friend had finally found what he truly needed in his life. “So what are you going to do?”

“I will give him time,” Severus said. “Maybe he will eventually come to me. If not, I will figure something out.”

“What about the guardianship? Your application will never make it past Dumbledore or Fudge?”

Severus gave him a pointed look. “As if you weren’t already aware of this part. You know I would be asking you to pull favour at the Ministry.”

Lucius chuckled. “True, I knew right away and of course I will do what I can.”

“Thank you, Lucius,” Severus said and then sighed. “I just hope your help will be needed.”

Harry shivered at the chilly wind that had picked up but otherwise ignored it. He, instead, continued with his extremely important task of throwing small chunks of ice into the Black Lake. The Giant Squid would make an occasional appearance, swatting at the surface as the ice hit the water. He frowned, contemplating, once again, how to accomplish the Second Task.

He glanced around before his next toss, spotting a very familiar Gryffindor coming to join him.

"Hey, Neville," he said, throwing his next ice piece.

"Hey," Neville said, coming to stand next to him. "Little cold to just be standing out here."

Harry shrugged. "A little." He threw a piece of ice. "Just needed to think."

"Lots on your mind?" Neville asked, proceeding to join Harry in the ice throwing.

Harry nodded.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Harry remained quiet for a little while as he contemplated. Neville was likely able to understand better than most.

"Say you had this person that had been helping you and you knew they cared about you. Then they tell you this huge secret. They did something bad and did terrible things. What would you do?"

"Is this person still bad? Still doing these terrible things?"

"I don't think so but I don't know for sure."

"Do you trust this person? Even after learning this secret?"

Harry thought and tossed an ice chunk. "Yeah, I do. With my life."

"Do you think this person still cares about you?"

Harry thought again and nodded.

"Then I don't see a reason to risk losing this person and this chance," Neville said. "It could become more. Give them a chance to fully explain. They told you this to open up the trust between you even more."

Harry looked at him and smiled. "Thanks, Neville."

Neville grinned and shrugged a shoulder. "You need Snape and he needs you. Don't lose it over something that might be nothing."

"How did you-"

Neville gave him a pointed glance and Harry chuckled, shaking his head and throwing more ice.

"Neville, I've got something else to ask," Harry said, having an idea about solving the Second Task.

"Anything."

"You know Herbology," Harry said. "Is there any chance you know of a plant that could make me breathe underwater for a long period of time?"

"How long?"

"An hour."

"There's gillyweed," Neville said and Harry's eyes widened. "It gives you actual gills and generally lasts about an hour. The amount you take effects the length."

"Gillyweed," Harry repeated quietly. "Is it grown in the greenhouses?"

Neville shook his head. "It's not that common. It doesn't even grow anywhere in Britain."

Harry groaned and chucked an ice chunk hard. There went that idea. "Thanks anyway."

"Glad to help," Neville said.

"How is Narcissa?" Snape asked as he and Lucius strolled the school grounds.

Lucius sighed. "She has been virtually unresponsive since she was brought here. Nothing has worked. She just lies in bed. On occasion she cries."

"It is still early," Snape said. "Draco only died two months ago."

Lucius nodded.

"I, quite frankly, am surprised at how well you have been coping."

Lucius' lips twitched into a small smile. "Trust me, it's not been easy. Back at the manor I have lost count of my breakdowns, and Draco's room still remains as it was. However, I have found it easier to bear with Harry. He has helped more than he will ever know."

Snape gave his own small smile. "I don't think that boy realizes the effect he has on anyone." He paused as he looked towards the lake. "Speaking of."

Lucius glanced over and smiled at the sight of Harry and the Longbottom boy throwing something in the water and playing with the squid.

"He is quite a child," Lucius said wistfully. Snape nodded in agreement and they continued their walk. "I do fear the worst, though, about Narcissa. I just do not see her making any progress. She has given up."

Snape sighed sadly. He was about to speak when a dove Patronus appeared in front of them. He felt his heart stutter and glanced at Lucius. It was Madam Pomfrey's Patronus.

"Come quickly. She is fading."

Lucius turned horror-stricken eyes to his friend before hurrying back into the castle. Snape watched him go sadly and began to follow. He was intercepted, however, by Harry who had a worried expression.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Lucius looked scared."

"It's Narcissa," Snape said and Harry's eyes widened. "It seems she has attempted to take her life again and is fading quickly."

"But can't you save her? You did the first time," Harry said, his voice breaking.

"I will go there and see what I can do, but there may be nothing to be done this time," Snape said. "She has given up on living. It is very difficult to save someone who doesn't want to live."

Harry thought of the few times in his childhood when he took longer to heal because he couldn't see any point. "But you'll try?"

Snape put a hand on the boy's shoulder and met his eyes. "I promise."

Harry nodded and watched the man whisk into the school. He hardly noticed Neville come up beside him.

"Is something wrong?" the other Gryffindor asked.

"It-it's Mrs. Malfoy, something's happened," Harry said. "I-I have to go."

"Yeah, of course," Neville said and Harry took off.

He ran through the halls, his mind spinning. He couldn't believe this was happening. It couldn't happen! He had enough he had to deal with and he had too much to lose. True, he hadn't spent as much time with Mrs. Malfoy but he wanted to know her the way he had with Lucius. Plus, Lucius might leave if she died and he didn't want Lucius to leave, he couldn't lose yet another person. Finally he crashed into the Hospital Wing. Snape, Lucius, and Pomfrey were all crowded around the bed holding Mrs. Malfoy.

Snape and Pomfrey appeared to be attempting treatments while Lucius stood by, observing, with his arms crossed. Harry quietly moved to stand beside the blonde who had clear tear tracks on his cheeks. He reached out and gently put a hand on Lucius' arm, causing the man to look down at him. Lucius' lips raised a touch and he draped an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close.

"How-how is she?" Harry whispered.

It was at that moment that Snape and Pomfrey straightened and took a step back. Snape turned to them, despair in his eyes, and shook his head. A sob bubbled out of Lucius' throat and his grip tightened on Harry unintentionally. Harry felt his own heart stutter to a halt.

"What-" Lucius swallowed, "what did she do?"

"She cut into a major vein and inserted hemlock directly into the blood stream," Pomfrey said.

"There is nothing we can do," Snape added.

"What about a bezoar?" Harry asked.

"The poison has already reached her heart," Snape said. "She has moments left."

"I'll-I'll leave you alone," Harry said, pulling away from Lucius.

"No," Lucius said, looking at Harry as he moved to stand beside his wife. "I would like for you both to stay." He glanced at Snape who inclined his head.

Harry shifted closer to Snape, giving Lucius space as he leaned down to Narcissa.

"Narcissa, I am so sorry," Lucius whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Draco for you. I know how much you missed him. You can be with him now so maybe you can be happy again. Tell Draco how much I love and miss him. Goodbye, my love."

Harry's head dropped at the same time as Lucius', a tear rolling down his cheek. He glanced back at the Malfoys and felt his heart break as Lucius broke down.

Narcissa was gone.

Hours had passed. Lucius was sitting in a chair beside the empty bed, his arms on his legs and his head bowed. Harry was sitting on a nearby bed and Snape was leaning against the wall near Harry, his arms crossed.

Harry looked up at his professor. "I think we should talk."

Snape gave him a slightly surprised look before nodding.

"Finally."

They both looked over at Lucius who had spoken but hadn't moved.

"Go, talk," Lucius continued. "You've taken too long to talk so, please, do it, finally."

Snape smirked and Harry tried to give a smile of his own. After a wave from Lucius, Harry and Snape left, walking down to the dungeons in a slightly awkward silence. They entered Snape's rooms and automatically took their respective seats. The quiet remained with them for some time as they both looked anywhere but at each other. Eventually Harry took the initiative.

"I still don't understand," he said, "but I guess that's the point of talking. I never let you finish explaining and I've been told by multiple people that I should have."

He took a pause and finally looked up at the professor.

"So explain."

Snape took a deep breath before launching in his story. "I joined the Death Eaters when I was in my seventh year. Your mother and I fell out in our fifth year and it was the final step. I will not lie to you. I joined of my own accord and, for a time, I enjoyed what I was a part of. Not for the reasons you think, however. In the beginning, I did, horrifically, enjoy hurting people and that's all it was. Hurting them but in ways they could still heal. It was an expression of my rage and hatred and loneliness. I quickly lost this enjoyment. I liked it for a very brief time.

"I liked being a part of the Death Eaters because I was a part of it. I finally truly belonged somewhere. I had people to care about me. I had power. I was no longer the weak child that could be beaten and bullied. I had a place."

Harry swallowed thickly, noticing glaring similarities between them.

"In 1980, Voldemort was at the height of his power and we were at the height of the war. At this point, I was already considering leaving the Death Eaters for various reasons. I was not performing my...duties adequately and I was not in Voldemort's good graces.

"One night I was to meet Professor Dumbledore at an inn in Hogsmeade. On my way, I heard voices in one of the rooms and I stopped to listen. What I overheard was a prophecy, a prophecy that told of the downfall of Voldemort. I brought this prophecy to Voldemort to get back into his favour and it worked...at a terrible cost.

"Voldemort believe the prophecy to be a true telling of his fate. As such, he made the decision to eliminate the one prophesized to be his defeat."

Snape stopped as he dropped his head to gaze at the floor.

"When I learned what Voldemort was going to do, I ran to Dumbledore. I begged him to protect your mother. Selfishly and horribly, I only cared about her life. Through a deal, Dumbledore protected all of you, at least until Pettigrew."

A heavy, almost suffocating silence settled on them. Harry felt his eyes burning but he refused to cry. He needed a clear head.

"What did this prophecy say?" he asked quietly.

"A child born at the end of July with parents that had previously defied Voldemort would have power he didn't and would be able to defeat Voldemort."

"So he figured it was me."

Snape nodded. "You and another. Another boy fit the same description and he went after the other as well."

"Who was the other boy?"

"Neville Longbottom."

Harry's eyes widened. "That's why his parents were attacked."

Snape nodded again. "The Longbottoms were attacked shortly before your parents. Luckily, the child wasn't home at the time and escaped a potentially horrific fate."

"But that made him choose me," Harry said. 

"Yes, but also because of what happened that Halloween. You survived the curse which he's perceived as a power he doesn't have. He also marked you," Snape said and Harry frowned. "Your scar. Because he left a mark on you, it confirms for him that you are his equal and can destroy him."

Harry bit his lip and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Why exactly did you get the Mark?"

"There are a mess of reasons," Snape said with a sigh. "I couldn't handle losing Lily. It was just the final blow to go along with my already terrible past. I had a childhood extremely similar to yours. My father was anything but a kind man. Ultimately, however, it was somewhere I could be accepted and not bullied. It was an escape. I really don't have a truly good reason."

Harry bobbed his head, choosing not to vocalize his understanding of wanting a place to be accepted.

"What deal did Dumbledore make you take?"

"I was to become a spy," Snape said. "Continue to work in Voldemort's ranks but give information to Dumbledore."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Harry frowned. Why would Dumbledore make someone do such a thing?

"It is. If I were to ever be discovered, I would be killed instantly. Plus, not everyone on the ‘Light' side believes I am a spy. Many believe I am still a loyal Death Eater."

"Are you?" Harry asked bluntly, looking back at Snape.

The man met his eyes steadily and held them as he spoke. "No, I am not. I am truly a spy for the Light. I have not been loyal to Voldemort since the night I made this deal with Dumbledore."

Harry felt something inside him settle as he believed the man's words. "How did you know my mother?"

Snape gave a tiny, soft smile. "We were neighbours. She was my only friend. She knew what my father was like and did her best to help. I helped her discover she was a witch."

Harry's eyes fell as he smiled, finally learning something about his mother. The smile disappeared as one final question fluttered into the forefront of his mind. "Do you actually care about me?"

Snape felt his heart stutter painfully at the question. How could the boy even ask such a thing? "You have no idea how much."

Harry felt tears well up and he gazed at the man. There was that expression again, filled with gentleness and affection. His heart pounded and he got to his feet. After some hesitation, he shuffled a few steps and then wrapped his arms around Snape's neck.

Severus glanced up as the door to his quarters opened and he was surprised to see Lucius. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked his friend quietly, ensuring he didn't wake Harry.

Lucius sat in the chair usually occupied by Harry. "I needed to get away and I don't fancy spending my night in the Hospital Wing. I hoped to stay here."

"Of course you can," Severus said, nodding.

Lucius inclined his head in thanks before smiling as he looked at Harry. The boy was asleep, stretched out under a blanket on the sofa and his head on Severus' thigh. "I take it things have been worked out."

"Yes, he let me explain and he seemed to understand," Severus said. "He asked me if I care about him. It astounded me."

"Well, he's really only ever had terrible experiences when it comes to this sort of thing," Lucius said. "After everything, he, of course, thought there was yet another person who had lied to him."

Severus sighed and looked down, sliding his fingers through the black hair. "I sincerely hope he knows I do."

Lucius smiled softly. "I'm sure he does and, in time, it'll be natural and he won't second guess."

Severus nodded, giving his friend an appreciative look. "How are you?" he asked, changing the subject.

Lucius sighed again. "As well as I can be. There won't be a funeral. I will say my goodbyes the day she is buried privately, though the both of you are welcome as well, of course. It will be this coming Sunday."

Severus looked at him with sympathy. "I'm sure we will both be there."

Their quiet conversation was halted as Harry began to stir in Severus' lap. They both watched indulgently as the boy slowly woke and sat up, rubbing an eye.

"M'sorry, sir," Harry mumbled. "I'll go back to the Tower."

"Nonsense, child," Severus said. "Stay in the guestroom. Go on, head off to bed."

Harry smiled sleepily. "Thank you, sir."

"Sleep well."

Harry nodded and dragged himself to his feet. "Good night, Lucius."

"And you, my boy."

Harry smiled again and shuffled into the familiar guestroom he had stayed in before. He was out nearly instantly.

Harry wandered up to Lucius who stood at the lake's edge. He couldn't help but muse at how often he was by the Black Lake these days. It was a few days now after Narcissa had been buried and they all said their goodbyes. As Lucius had promised, there was no funeral, only a day to pass through and bid farewell to the woman. Now she was gone and put to rest, and Harry had never seen Lucius look more lost. He couldn't help but relate and want to help.

The man was alone and he knew what it was to be alone.

He silently stood next to the man, looking down at Ron's and Draco's graves while Lucius stared at the water. He wasn't sure what to do now. While he knew what it was to be alone, he didn't know how to comfort or fix it. He'd never had it done for him, not really, so he had no examples to go by. What should he say? Should he say anything at all? He bit his lip and considered leaving when, shockingly, Lucius slowly reached out and put a gentle arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.

It was then that words came.

"I was suicidal once," he said quietly, still staring at the headstones. "About a year before I got my letter. Nothing was getting better, nothing was okay. I had spent so much time hoping and wishing that one day I would be taken away and I'd finally be happy. I hoped and wished to get a real family. But it never happened and after wishing for the tenth birthday in a row, I gave up. I finally accepted that that was my life and I would never escape. The next night I held a stolen razor blade for hours. I never touched my skin with it but I held it and stared at it. I can't even remember what I thought but, eventually, I put it down and left my cupboard to do my chores. I did the same thing every night for almost three weeks. At some point I just...stopped and a year later I got my letter."

Lucius said nothing. He just held Harry tighter to his side.

"It may not be even close to the same, but you've still got Professor Snape," Harry added quietly. "And I'd like for you to stay around."

At this, Lucius turned his head and looked down at Harry. He smiled slightly, ran a hand through Harry's hair, and kissed the top of his head.

"I would very much like to stay around," Lucius whispered.

Harry smiled and they fell quiet, gazing at the lake and the graves of friends and sons.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, just staring silently and pensively at the floor. It was the early hours of the morning and the rest of his dorm was still asleep. He, however, couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. It was the day of the Second Task and he was totally screwed. Despite his efforts, he never found a solution to breathing underwater for an hour. He couldn’t do the task. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. If he didn’t do the task, nothing in the task could try and kill him. Maybe he could just be disqualified.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. To make it all worse, he hadn’t seen or heard from Snape in almost two days. The professor hadn’t been at any meals. They hadn’t had Potions so there was no class to see him in. They didn’t have a scheduled meeting and when he went to the man’s rooms, no one answered. He’d tried asking Lucius, but even he seemed clueless about Snape’s whereabouts.

Or he’s lying to you, a voice in his head said and he frowned. Maybe Snape’s avoiding you. Maybe he doesn’t want to see you anymore.

His frown deepened and his heart started to pound painfully.

He’s left you.

“No!” he snapped at himself in a harsh whisper.

“Harry?”

He looked up at his name and found Neville sitting up in his bed, looking at him sleepily.

“Neville,” he said. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Neville just shrugged, meaning Harry had woken him, but it wasn’t a big deal. “Everything alright?”

“As they can be,” Harry said, sighing again.

“Nervous about the task?”

“Terrified. I never figured out how to do it, how to breathe underwater for an hour.”

Neville bit his lip and then climbed out of bed, standing by his trunk. “I have something for you, but you have to promise you won’t tell Snape you got it from me. He’d skin me alive.”

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I promise I won’t tell him.” Even if I wanted to.

Neville nodded and dug in his trunk before pulling out a fold of fabric. Coming over to Harry, he held it out. Harry took it slowly, questioning.

“I wanted to give it to you earlier, especially with how worried you’ve been about the task. I was worried, though, worried you’d tell Snape what I did and then I’d be in trouble. I just wanted to help.”

Harry looked at the folded napkin in his hands and carefully pulled away one side. He frowned at the slimy-looking green thing. Whatever it was, was coiled around making a flat spiral. He glanced back up at Neville, his eyebrow raised.

“It’s gillyweed,” Neville said, “the plant I told you about. It allows you to breathe underwater. It doesn’t grow in the greenhouses, but Snape had some.”

Harry’s eyes widened in realization. “You stole this from Snape’s stores?”

Neville flushed, ashamed, and nodded.

Harry let out a breath. “I won’t say anything.”

Something’s wrong. Why didn’t Neville get caught?

“Thank you for this,” he said, covering the strange plant back up and placing it in the drawer on his bedside table. “How does it work?”

“Eat it just before you go in the water,” Neville said, “then jump in. It’ll cause you to grow temporary gills.”

“How temporary?”

“Assuming Snape has the best supply, exactly an hour. It could be a little less though.”

“I’ll just have to finish the task as fast as I can, just in case.”

Neville nodded.

“Thank you, really. You’ve really saved me here.”

Neville blushed. “Just wanted to help.”

Harry smiled. “We should go back to sleep.”

Neville agreed and returned to his bed. Harry crawled back under his covers and found himself falling asleep easily.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Fred asked.

“You seem nervous,” George said.

They, along with Neville and Luna, were walking down the dock with Harry, heading to where the other champions were standing. They were on large stands that were in the middle of the Black Lake and only accessible by boat. It was a frigid February morning and Harry was not relishing the idea of having to go for a swim.

“I am,” Harry said, looking all around the stands. “Extremely.”

It wasn’t just nerves that was making him look through the crowds of spectators. While he hadn’t seen Snape in a couple of days, he assumed the man would at least be watching the task, watching him. However, as he looked everywhere, he wasn’t seeing the professor at all. He spotted Lucius, sitting up with all the professors. He man gave him an encouraging smile which helped a little bit, but it was truly Snape’s’ reassurance and encouragement he needed.

He felt his heart break a little as everyone was called to attention and Snape wasn’t there.

He left you. He doesn’t care. He never cared, the cynical voice in his head said.

He shook his head. No!

It couldn’t be true. Snape couldn’t have left him. Something must’ve happened. Maybe Voldemort did something through the Dark Mark. Or maybe Dumbledore had him doing something. Or maybe he was at some Potions thing and didn’t mention it.

He left you! the voice hissed.

Harry jumped at the sound of a loud bang. The other champions disappearing into the water made him realize the task had begun. He pulled the gillyweed out of his pocket and shoved it in his mouth, jumping in the water. He almost gagged on the plant. It was so slimy and almost felt alive as it went down his throat. Then he felt the pain in his neck, hands, and feet. He gasped out and experienced the bizarre feeling of swallowing water but not choking or drowning. There was a strange fluttering on either side of his neck near his ears. He reached up through the water and felt the raised fleshy gills he had grown. He looked at his hands and feet and realized they had become webbed.

Weird, he thought then shook himself. He had wasted enough time. He had to finish the task.

Using his newly webbed appendages, he easily and quickly swam through the dark, murky water. Seaweed consistently stroked his face and tried to wrap around his legs. He kept hearing strange sounds, making him wonder what other creatures inhabited the lake with the squid and the merpeople. He knew he would see dark figured swim by in his periphery but he had no idea what exactly he was seeing.

He swam around for a time, wondering what he was meant to be looking for. He was startled when he nearly collided with Cedric Diggory who had a strange, transparent, flowy mask over his nose and mouth. Whatever it was must be the way he was breathing. They locked eyes and then Cedric tapped his ear before swimming off. Harry frowned. What was that about? Was he supported to be hearing something? Did Cedric hear something he didn’t?

With a mental shrug, he began to swim again. He kept an eye out for whatever creatures that may be following him. He spun around after a time when he felt something that wasn’t seaweed touch his foot. It was almost impossible to see anything through the dark water, though, so he kept going.

He had no idea how long it had been, but he had a feeling he was cutting it close. What was he supposed to be searching for?

‘And while you’re searching, ponder this:

We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss.’

He looked around at the melody but saw nothing.

What I’ll sorely miss.

He didn’t have anything. He’d miss Hedwig, but he doubted she would’ve been taken. Once he would’ve said Ron and Hermione but neither were an option. He had few personal items. He’d miss his father’s Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder’s Map, but neither seemed important enough to take for the task.

So what were they talking about? What could they have taken from him?

Unbidden, a flash of recent memories involving Snape came to mind and he frowned to himself.

Snape? Would I sorely miss him?

The feelings of the last couple of days instantly confirmed his question. He’d felt so lost and alone without the man.

If Snape had been taken, that must be the reason he hadn’t seen the man for two days. Snape hadn’t left him!

He instantly began to move, but stopped when he realized he still had no idea where to look. He bit his lip, looking in all directions for a clue.

‘But past an hour, the prospect’s black:

Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.’

He looked around. The melody was soft as though it was far away. His eyes widened in realization. He had to follow the music!

He started off again, listening hard for the familiar melody. It took a few moments but he was soon following it easily. It was getting steadily louder, encouraging him to swim faster and faster until he was suddenly in a large clearing. He immediately noticed the three figures floating in the water, their ankles tethered with seaweed to a huge log on the lake’s floor.

He kicked hard and swam up to the unconscious people. The little Delacour girl, Cho Chang, and Snape were all hovering peacefully in front of him. Krum must’ve already been there. He was just getting closer to Snape when Cedric showed up, using his wand to cut Cho free. He gave Harry a nod before heading for the surface.

Harry was just about to pull his wand to release Snape when he was suddenly attacked. The little grey creatures—grindylows—grabbed onto his arms, legs, and neck, biting when and where they could. He did his best to fight them off, kicking out and trying to pull them off. Somehow, he freed one arm long enough to pull out his wand. He didn’t know how it would work as he couldn’t say an incantation but he tried the wand movement for Immobulus anyways. Shockingly, it worked and the still, stiff bodies of the grindylows slowly drifted away from him. He immediately went to Snape and waved his wand in the movement of Incendio, hoping for the same result. He succeeded and tiny flames appeared long enough to burn through the seaweed before going out.

He grasped Snape’s arm and headed for the surface. It seemed to take forever and he worried the whole time about getting attacked by more grindylows or even merpeople, but they escape unhindered. 

They broke the water’s surface, and he heard Snape splutter and cough. Whatever kind of spell had been on the man was clearly broken. He gasped in shock and pain as searing pain through his limbs and neck. He looked at his hands when it disappeared and found them back to normal. He had made it just in time.

Together they swam over to the stands and were helped up. Both of them were wrapped in thick towels. Exhausted and overwhelmed, Harry collapsed and sat down on the floor of the stand, not caring about all the people standing around him. He barely noticed all the applause and didn’t hear much of what Dumbledore said. He got the gist of it all: besides Fleur Delacour who was disqualified after having to be rescued, he had come in last and had fallen to third place. He honestly didn’t care. He did notice Snape kneel in front of him.

“Are you alright?” the man asked. “You’re injured.”

Harry blinked at him and felt his eyes fill with tears. Concern crossed Snape’s face. “Snape,” he whispered. “I thought you’d left me.”

Snape’s expression softened and Harry found himself choked up at the emotions in the dark eyes. “’Severus’. I will never leave you.”

Harry sobbed and then reached out to wrap his arms around Snape’s neck. He was immediately rewarded with a tight hug in return.

“Gillyweed. An uncommon choice,” Severus said.

Harry flushed. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

Severus raised an eyebrow, glancing at Lucius who appeared both bemused and amused.

“It was Neville,” Harry said. “He took it from your stores to help. He only wanted to help me and he did. I had no way of surviving the task before he gave me the gillyweed.”

Severus just looked down at the top of the boy’s head leaning against his side with a smile.

“Are you mad?” Harry asked, uncertain.

Severus threaded his fingers through the dark hair. “No, child, I’m not mad.”

“Karkaroff was watching the two of you very closely today,” Lucius said.

“Do you think he will return?” Severus said, still brushing through Harry’s hair gently.

“He would be welcomed with news of traitors, at first,” Lucius said. “He wouldn’t last long.”

“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “What does that all mean?”

“Karkaroff could potentially tell Voldemort when he returns that I am a traitor,” Severus said.

“Were you planning to keep being a spy?” Harry asked.

Snape glanced down. “Not anymore.”

“Will Dumbledore be mad?”

“Undoubtedly,” Severus said bluntly, “but I feel he will be easier to manage than Voldemort. I also don’t fancy risking my life like that again.”

Harry settled back against the man. “Good.”

Severus smiled and gave the boy a squeeze. “I think it may be time for you to go to bed, child.”

Harry sat up, a disappointed frown on his face. “I don’t want to go back to the Tower.”

“I said you had to go to bed, not to the Tower,” Severus said.

Harry grinned. “Good. Good night then.”

“Good night,” Severus said. “Tomorrow, if you like, perhaps you can show me that potion.”

Harry’s eyes widened in recognition and he nodded. “Definitely. Thanks. Night, Lucius.”

“Sleep well, my boy.”

Harry disappeared into the guestroom, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was sure Harry was ensconced in the bedroom, Severus turned to Lucius. 

“He thought I had left him,” the professor said. “He thinks I’ll abandon him.”

“Are you surprised?” Lucius said. “He’s never had the most reliable or stable adult figures. Even that godfather of his. I honestly don’t think Harry’s received a word from that man.”

“I refuse to be like that,” Severus said. “I need you to do your work in the Ministry. Get me guardianship.”

“Harry, this potion takes eight months to brew,” Severus said, reading over the foreign soul detection potion. It was one of the most complicated potions he had ever seen and he had brewed several complex potions in his life and career.

Harry bit his lip, swinging one leg nervously while he sat on the stool in Severus’ personal lab. “I know.”

“And these ingredients,” Severus said, shaking his head. “Some are damn near impossible to get and expensive.”

“I can research, find out how to get them,” Harry said. “And I’ll pay for all of it.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Severus said and Harry frowned. “Your inheritance is for you to spend on yourself and support you immediately after school until you are settled.”

“But I’ve used it for all of my school stuff,” Harry said, confused. “Why is this different?”

“Because you never should have had to buy your school supplies. You guardians were supposed to do that but since they’re despicable…” Severus trailed off bitterly and Harry grinned in amusement. “I will take you up on that research offer, however, but only if you work on getting a little better in Potions class. I will help if you need it. Deal?”

Harry nodded. “Deal.”

“Good,” Severus said and picked up the book. “Let’s go to my stores and see what ingredients I do have.”

Harry hopped off the stool and walked with the professor down the corridor. “I wish I could help with the potion.”

“I’m sure there are some things you can help with,” Severus said. “Perhaps ingredient preparation.”

Harry bowed his head. “I’ve never been great at that or any part of brewing.”

“Part of your difficulty could stem from stress and the way I treated you,” Severus said. “I truly apologize for my behaviour and actions. I have no excuse for any of it.”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “It’s odd. Even though it was horrible and I hated it and I hated you, I came to rely on it all.”

Severus gave him a bemused look.

“Things were always changing and people were always changing, especially towards me. It was constantly back and forth between the school liking me and hating me. You, though, you never changed. You always hated me and treated me badly. Nothing I ever did could change that and I came to lean on that stability. In a weird way, you’ve always been the stable part of my life.”

The professor gazed at the child, unsure what to say. He chose to say nothing and, instead, rested his hand briefly on Harry’s cheek in gratitude. Harry smiled. Severus then pulled away and turned to the door of his storeroom. He raised a hand and then frowned deeply, almost as if concerned. 

“Severus?” Harry said, the name still feeling strange to say.

“My wards are inactive,” the man said. “They’ve been tampered with.” He opened the door and walked in. He glanced around, obviously doing a quick scan and mental inventory.

Eventually, he ran a hand irritably through his hair.

“What is it?”

“More Polyjuice ingredients are gone. Almost my entire supply.” 

“So, what does that mean?” Harry asked tensely.

Severus sighed and met the worried green eyes. “It means whoever is using Polyjuice Potion has at least three months’ worth, perhaps four.”

“So we may never find out who it is,” Harry said and the professor nodded. Harry couldn’t help the fear that ran through his body.

The man gazed up at the castle, mouth turning up into a smile at the old friends he was about to see. He used a gloved hand to brush the strand of loose hair out of his face that the breeze had blown. His head tilted in curiosity as his misty blue eyes tracked the man hobbling across the grounds and towards the forest. Very curious.

He casually put his hands in the pockets of his cloak and slowly walked up to the school. He paused again to watch the young boy that came storming out of the castle, his body angry as he walked to two small headstones by the lake. Intrigued, he changed his direction to head towards the boy. He made sure to make noise so he didn’t startle the boy.

“Privet,” he said and the boy whipped his head, obviously caught off guard by the unfamiliar voice. The shockingly bright green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Hello.”

“Hello,” the boy said, guarded.

“Do not be frightened. I am a friend of some here,” he said. “Perhaps you know them. A Professor Snape and a Mr. Malfoy.”

The boy snorted almost contemptuously. “Oh yeah, I know them.”

“Well, I presume, based on your reaction,” the man said.

“Well enough at this point,” the boy said.

“You seem angry.”

The boy huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not actually supposed to be out here, not alone anyways. It’s been forbidden.”

“There must be a reason.”

“It’s too dangerous,” the boy sneered, “but it’s been dangerous all year. Nothing’s really changed.”

“It sounds as though they are trying to keep you safe.”

“I would’ve liked a say in this whole thing though,” the boy said and sighed. “Fine, you’re right, they’re just trying to help.”

He glanced back at the tall man, taking in the auburn hair pulled into a ponytail and strange eyes.

“Who exactly are you?” the boy asked.

“As I said, a friend,” the man said. “I have been asked to help with some business matters.”

The boy’s green eyes narrowed. “You’re a vampire.”

The man smirked in amusement. “I am. Very observant.”

The boy shrugged. “You’ve got the black ring around your irises and I saw a fairly pointed tooth at one point.”

The man chuckled. “You are quite intelligent, rebenok.”

“What language is that? You used it before too.”

“Russian,” the man said. “I am a born Russian.”

“That’s brilliant,” the boy said. “I’ve never been outside Britain.”

“Perhaps one day you’ll have your change to travel.”

“Maybe.” The boy looked out at the lake. “Severus and Lucius are down in the dungeons in Severus’ rooms. Could you not tell them I’m out here?”

The man tilted his head and smiled before miming pulling a zipper across his mouth.

The boy smiled in appreciation. “Thanks. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Alexei. Very nice to meet you. I must go now.”

Harry nodded and returned to the lake as Alexei headed into the school and into the dungeons. He knocked on one of the doors and it was opened in seconds. He smiled at his old friend just before being pulled into a hug.

“Alexei,” Severus said. “What in the world are you doing here?”

Alexei hugged Lucius and then took a seat in the armchair. “Lucius has asked for my help. You want guardianship of a child?”

Severus nodded. “Harry Potter. The most famous wizard in Britain.”

“That is a tall order,” Alexei said and then grinned. “It won’t be a problem. Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?” Severus said, uncertain.

“You will have to go through an interview,” Alexei said. “You have to show you will be a fit guardian, especially for someone so important.”

Severus let out a deep breath. “I can do that.”

“Good, because I will most likely be the one to interview you.” Alexei laughed and Severus chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were using Alexei?” Severus asked Lucius.

“I wasn’t sure he’d be available to help,” Lucius said.

“I have been working with a feral vampire clan in the Philippines,” Alexei said. “It was weeks before I received Lucius’ letter. I was able to settle things, however, and can help with this. I couldn’t pass up the chance to see the two of you again. It’s been too long.”

The other men nodded in agreement.

“So, what is the child’s situation?” Alexei asked, accepting a cup of tea as a tray floated into the sitting room.

“Badly abused,” Lucius said and Severus nodded.

“He’s an orphan. His parents were killed when he was just a baby. He was left with his Muggle aunt and uncle. They are the only blood relatives he has but they have abused him all his life,” Severus explained.

“I will need some proof of this,” Alexei said. “Photos, memories, a statement of some kind, medical records.”

“I can get some,” Severus said.

“Once I have the evidence, I can declare the Muggles to be unfit. They will have to sign a release form, denouncing their legal rights to the child,” Alexei said. “I will then interview you, declare you a fair candidate, and then we all sign the papers. Lucius will be our witness. The child will have to sign as well to prove he is agreeing to the guardianship.”

“So not too difficult?” Lucius said.

Alexei shook his head. “One of the easiest cases I’ve had.”

The two men smiled and then they all sat back, taking the time to catch up.

“Shouldn’t yeh be gettin’ back ter the castle?” Hagrid said as he lumbered beside Harry, the two of them slowly walking the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest. It had grown dark but it was a full moon, and it had the grounds brightly lit.

Harry shrugged. “Not like anyone cares.”

“Now that ain’t true,” Hagrid argued. “Snape and Lucius Malfoy there care a lot ‘bout yeh. Maybe you don’t see it, but they do.”

“Maybe but it’s all temporary anyways, isn’t it?” Harry said. He was almost speaking more aloud to himself than to the half-giant beside him. “They’ll forget all about me come summer.”

“’Arry…”

“It’s fine, Hagrid, really,” Harry said. “I appreciate all they’ve done this year. They made things much easier. I’ll be fine.”

“Snape’s a good man, he wouldn’t just leave yeh,” Hagrid said.

“He is a good man,” Harry agreed and smiled at his friend. “I should have listened to you in first year.”

Hagrid chuckled. “He makes it tough ter tell.”

Harry nodded. He felt what he had told Hagrid was true: he’d be fine. Severus and Lucius had helped him so much. They’d made a terribly difficult year bearable, had made him almost…happy. He truly felt he could survive returning to the Dursleys’. The two men had made him stronger.

He gasped as he suddenly hit the ground, his foot catching what he assumed was a tree root. He rolled over to check and his eyes widened as they met the dead ones of Barty Crouch Senior.

“Yeh alright, Harry?” Hagrid said before spotting the body. “Sweet Merlin.”

“Stay here, Hagrid,” Harry said, clambering to his feet. “I’ll go get help.”

He took off running back to the castle. He skidded to a stop on his way to Dumbledore’s office by Moody hobbling over to him.

“What’s your rush, boy?”

“Something’s happened,” Harry said. “I need to get Dumbledore.”

“What is it?”

Harry hesitated, wondering if he should say anything. “Crouch,” he said, “he’s dead.”

A strange look flashed quickly through Moody’s good eye and his tongue flicked out. “Really now?”

Harry nodded slowly. “I need to…”

“Potter, what has you in the corridors so close to curfew?”

Severus had come up to them unexpectedly, frowning at the both of them. The look he gave Moody was full of suspicion.

“I need to find Dumbledore,” Harry said, looking up at Severus. “Something’s happened to Mr. Crouch down by the Forest. Hagrid’s there.”

Severus whipped out his wand and waved it. A bright blue, misty doe burst from his wand and pranced around before galloping the direction of the headmaster’s office. The man had a beautiful Patronus and Harry wondered if there was a story there.

“Go to my rooms,” Severus said. “Lucius is there. Go. Now.”

“Be careful,” Harry whispered before rushing down to the now all-too-familiar rooms. He walked into the room and was immediately approached by Lucius.

“Harry?” Lucius said, frowning. “Aren’t you meant to be in the Tower?”

“I was outside with Hagrid,” Harry said. “Crouch is dead. We found him in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Crouch?” Lucius repeated, shocked, and Harry nodded. The blonde reached out and clasped the boy’s shoulder, bringing him close. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

Harry nodded again, grateful for the man’s concern. He hadn’t realized how shaken he had been by his discovery. He glanced around the comforting room, hoping to sit, when he spotted the other man on the sofa. It was the Russian man from earlier that day.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you guys had company,” Harry said. “Severus told me to come here.”

“And here is where you should be,” Lucius said, leading Harry to his chair. He motioned for the boy to sit and returned to the sofa. “Harry, this is our good friend Alexei. Alexei, Harry Potter.”

“Good to see you again, rebenok,” Alexei said with a smile.

“We met earlier,” Harry said in response to Lucius’ questioning look. “When I left after our fight, I went outside and he was there.”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed and Harry swallowed nervously. He was in trouble now. “You went outside alone?”

Harry sunk into his chair and nodded. He felt his heart begin to pound, fearful of what could happen now he made the man angry. As luck would have it, he would have to wait until later to find out as the silvery blue doe he had seen from Severus before appeared.

“Lucius, we are in need on you. Dumbledore’s office.” The doe then turned to Harry who stared at the Patronus in shock and awe. “Harry, stay in my rooms. You will stay the night. We will fill you in when we return or in the morning, depending on the time. Good night and sleep well if we are not back before you go to sleep.”

The doe dissipated.

Lucius looked back at Harry. “This is also not over. It will be addressed tomorrow, understood?” Harry nodded. “Stay here with Alexei. Be in bed at a reasonable hour. Sleep well.”

Harry gave a tight smile and watched Lucius Floo to the headmaster’s office. He blew out a relieved breath and sagged in his chair.

“You seem to be in some trouble,” Alexei said into the silence and Harry looked at him when he thought he detected amusement in the words.

Harry huffed. “They’re overreacting.”

“Obviously not, given what you’ve just found.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Great, another one. You sound just like them.”

“They are concerned about you,” Alexei said. “It is natural when people care for each other.”

Harry glared, but then sighed and shook his head, relenting. “Am I allowed to ask who you are exactly?”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I have yet to hear your last name and I’m guessing there’s a reason.”

The vampire smirked. “Quite the intelligence and curiosity you’ve got there. Make sure you’re careful with that curiosity. It could get you into trouble.”

Harry shrugged. “Already has loads of times. I’ve sort of become known for it.”

Alexei chuckled. “Very well then. My full name is Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov.”

Harry blinked in surprised recognition. “Romanov?” Alexei nodded in confirmation. “Weren’t all the Romanovs executed?”

Alexei sat back in the sofa and crossed his long legs. “Theoretically and publically and historically. The Alexei that was executed was a golem. I am the only one who escaped and survived.”

“How?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Our advisor, Grigori Rasputin. He was magic and a vampire. He saved me and took me away. We stayed mostly hidden until I had aged enough that I wouldn’t be recognized. He turned me when I was twenty-five and also found a way to give me magic through the change. He was killed ten years after he turned me.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed. “That’s incredible. How do you know Lucius and Severus?”

“I met Lucius through the Ministry. I’ve done much work with him,” Alexei said. “Severus was my apprentice. He gained his Potions mastery under me.”

“What? No way,” Harry gasped. Alexei just smiled lazily in amusement. “You must have incredible stories and memories.”

“A few,” Alexei said vaguely.

Harry grinned. “Can I hear one?”

“Tomorrow.” Harry’s face fell. “I believe you were instructed to go to bed at a reasonable hour.” The vampire glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.

Harry sighed. It was almost eleven-thirty at night. “I guess so.” He got out of his chair and headed to the guestroom. “Are you staying?”

Alexei nodded. “I am.”

“Good,” Harry said. “Have a good night.”

“And you, rebenok.”

“I am giving you one more chance to reconsider removing Potter from his relatives’,” Severus said, glaring at Dumbledore. Lucius stood quietly in the corner, observing.

“You know I cannot do that, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Those wards around Privet Drive are protecting him, are the only reason he survives the summer holidays.”

“He barely survives his summer,” Severus snapped. “They may protect him from outside danger, but what about inside? What is protecting him from those people?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Severus, listen to me. Harry’s situation is not ideal but it is necessary. His relatives are afraid of magic which will prevent them from going too far.”

“They’ve already gone too far, the moment they laid a finger on the boy,” Severus hissed and swept from the room.

Dumbledore turned to Lucius. “Severus cannot have the boy, not if Voldemort is to return.”

“I thought you wanted the two of them to get along and work together,” Lucius said, stepping forward.

“I did,” Dumbledore said with a nod, “but nothing more. They both need their isolation to be strong, survive, and do their jobs. They will both have crucial roles in the war and can have no distractions.”

Lucius’ face darkened and shuttered. Severus’ and Harry’s fate was being decided for them. Their lives were being laid out for them. Their potential happiness was being taken away because it didn’t fit the description of hardened, self-sacrificing soldiers.

“You would willingly leave them alone and miserable and in pain, and Harry abused, for the sake of a war?”

Dumbledore stared at him steadily, showing next to no emotion. “For the greater good.”

“They could be each other’s strength,” Lucius said and then he left the office.

When Lucius arrived back in Severus’ rooms, he only found Alexei sitting on the sofa. He gave the vampire a questioning look.

“He is in Harry’s room,” Alexei said. “I assume it was not a good meeting.”

Lucius sighed and shook his head. “We will not have any support from Dumbledore for the guardianship.”

Alexei nodded. “Go see the boy.”

Lucius did so, quietly entering the room that was obviously and quickly becoming Harry’s room. He leaned against the wall near the door, taking in the scene. Harry was fast asleep in the bed, sprawled out on his back, one arm hanging off the bed and his head turned towards the edge of the bed. Severus was sat on the side, gazing down at the small fourteen year old. Lucius watched as Severus reached out and brushed once through Harry’s hair before bringing his hand to rest gently on the boy’s chest.

Severus’ head twitched to the side, noticing someone had joined him. “I am not leaving him.”

“None of us are,” Lucius said.

Nothing else was said. They simply continued to watch the damaged, alone child sleep peacefully.

“Harry, come out here, please.”

Harry felt himself blanch and swallowed thickly at Lucius’ quiet call. He had foolishly hoped Lucius would forget about his foray outside yesterday. He rubbed his hands on his thighs a few times before getting up from the bed and shuffled out to the sitting room. Lucius and Severus were sitting on the sofa, leaving him to take his chair. Their faces betrayed nothing, making his heart jump into his throat.

“What did we tell you yesterday before the mess with Crouch?” Severus said.

“Uh,” Harry hesitated, “not to go outside?”

“Outside, alone,” Severus stressed, “and where were you?”

“I was outside, but I was with Hagrid so not alone,” Harry argued, hoping it was enough.

It wasn’t.

“And before that?” Lucius jumped in. “After our argument? When you first met Alexei.”

Harry swallowed again. “Technically I had gone out alone, but then Alexei showed up so, again, not actually alone.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “You are not getting out of this on false technicalities.”

Harry huffed, feeling angry. “Fine, yes, I went outside alone. I’m still alive. Nothing happened.”

“You really have such little regard for your own life?” Lucius said and Harry sighed.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“There is someone in the castle who is not who they say they are. This person more than likely entered you in the tournament and may have had a role in Crouch’s death,” Severus said. “Do you realize how much danger is inside the school right now?”

“If they wanted to hurt me or kill me, they would have by now,” Harry said. “No one seemed to care when I was hunting something killing unicorns with Hagrid or when students were turning up Petrified or when I was supposedly being hunted by a mass murderer.”

“There should have been someone to do exactly what we are doing now,” Lucius said.

Harry glared. “Says the one who tried to kill a twelve year old.”

In his anger and confusion, he made himself ignore the pain he felt at Lucius’ anguished face.

“Harry!” Severus snapped.

“No!” Harry shouted. “You can’t just start caring! You can’t pretend to care!”

“When have we ever given the impression that we are pretending?” Severus said.

“You just are!” Harry yelled. “No one has ever cared! No one ever cares so why would you? Don’t pretend to care when you’re just going to forget about me.”

“Forget about you?” Severus said, sharing a frown with Lucius. “What makes you think we’re going to forget about you?”

Harry sniffed, fighting off tears angrily. “Because you will when summer comes and I go back to the Dursleys’. You won’t have to bother with me anyone so you’ll forget you ever did.”

Severus and Lucius sighed.

“That will not happen, Harry,” Lucius said. “We will not forget about you.”

“Everyone does,” Harry said quietly. “Everyone leaves.”

“We are not leaving you,” Severus said. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave.”

“Ron did. Hermione did. Sirius did,” Harry said. “You will, too, eventually.”

“You think so little of us?” Lucius said and found the boy’s green eyes meeting his.

“I-I don’t—“ Harry stuttered. “I didn’t mean—“

“Harry.”

Harry looked at the professor’s sad, but determined face from his chair. He wondered what had happened even though he was sure he knew.

“I’ve told the headmaster your situation,” the professor said. “He’s said you must return.”

“I know.”

“I will not let you return.”

Harry stopped and looked at the two men. Could he really trust them to not leave? He hadn’t believed Sirius could leave and now he had, and Sirius liked him. What was there to keep Severus and Lucius around, two men that had once hated him? Could he trust that the professor would find some way around Dumbledore and the Ministry? They each had big plans that needed Harry as a key part. 

Could he believe that Severus and Lucius actually cared about him?

Harry smiled slightly.

“I know.”

Dear Sirius,

Harry paused and tapped his quill on his parchment. He debated what to write. There was so much to say but what do you say to someone who probably won’t write back?

I wish you would answer my letters. So much is happening this year and I really need to hear from you. I need your help. I’m still getting help from Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy, but I thought I’d hear more from you.

I survived the Second Task. Neville helped me. He found me gillyweed. Good thing, too, because I hadn’t figured anything out. He saved my life. For the task, the merpeople took something we’d miss from each of us. I wasn’t sure what they’d take from me, I don’t have much. Ended up, it was Severus. They had taken Severus and I’ve since realized how much I care about him…and Lucius. They both care about me too. They’re even trying to get me away from the Dursleys.

I know what you think of the both of them, but I don’t care. They’ve been helping me and they care about me and they’ve been taking care of me. They are great men and I’m so glad I have them.

The Final Task is in June. Still some time away.

Do you think there could be a way to see each other at Easter? I’d love to see you. Let me know, okay?

Hope to hear soon.

Love,

Harry

With another sigh, Harry slipped the letter into an envelope and gave it to Hedwig. He watched her fly, chewing his lip. He didn’t react when Lucius sat beside him in the stands.

“Doesn’t Dumbledore wonder why you’re here?” Harry asked.

“Not since he got an important letter from the Ministry, documenting the details of my stay.”

Harry chuckled at the man’s smirk.

“So what is going on?” Lucius said. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”

Harry sighed. “Just been focusing on classes.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” Lucius said. “Seems you’ve been avoiding us ever since we said we’d get you out of Privet Drive.”

Harry dropped his head, his hands fidgeting.

“Do you think we won’t do it?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I know you’ll try and that you want to, but I’ve gone through this before.”

“You have?”

Harry nodded. “End of last year. Before Pettigrew escaped. Sirius asked me to live with him. He was going to get me out of Privet Drive, too, but it didn’t happen. I’m still there and he’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Haven’t heard much from him lately,” Harry said. “I just haven’t had much luck getting away from the Dursleys.”

“Harry, we—“

Harry looked up when Lucius stopped suddenly. The blonde man was staring towards the school where three robed men were heading through the front doors. Lucius had a worried and confused expression.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“Those are Aurors,” Lucius said.

Harry frowned. “Why would they be here?”

“I have no idea.”

Harry quickly followed Lucius into the castle. They rushed through the corridors until they found, not just the Aurors, but also Dumbledore and Severus in the Entrance Hall. Harry felt his stomach twist as he recognized the worry in Severus’ face. He unconsciously stepped closer to Lucius as Dumbledore and the Aurors turned to face them.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, “we were just about to look for you.”

“Obviously no need,” Lucius said. “What is this about?”

“Mr. Malfoy,” the tall Auror in front said, extending a hand. “Gawain Robards, Head Auror.”

Lucius shook the man’s hand stiffly. “Pleasure.”

“Mr. Malfoy, we have been sent to inform you of the pending investigation and to tell you that you are restricted to the Hogwarts grounds until the investigation’s conclusion,” Robards said.

Lucius frowned. “Investigation?”

Robards nodded. “The Ministry has opened an investigation in regards to the Death Eater attack on December twenty-fifth and the death of Draco Malfoy.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Lucius said.

Harry felt his stomach twist tighter.

“You are under investigation for involvement,” Robards said and slice rang.

Harry looked up at Lucius, fear running through his body. They had to be joking. They honestly thought Lucius was involved in the attack, in Draco’s murder? What were they going to do?

“You can’t be serious?” Lucius said. “You’re accusing me of murdering my own son?”

Robards shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I’m only following orders. Please, do not leave school premises until the investigation closes.”

“Fine,” Lucius said shortly.

Robards nodded again, inclined his head to Dumbledore, and then left the school.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said and everyone turned to the headmaster. Harry narrowed his eyes at the lack of emotion in the old man’s eyes as they stared at Lucius. “Shall I arrange some rooms for you?”

Lucius’ face hardened. “No, thank you. I will stay with Severus.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said and then swept away.

“What is happening?” Harry said, looking between Severus and Lucius.

“It must be Fudge,” Lucius said.

“I thought you basically controlled him?” Severus said.

“Not me,” Lucius said with a small sigh, the three of them beginning to slowly walk to the dungeons. “It was all Narcissa. She’s the one that paid off everyone. A trait she learned from her mother.”

“Now she’s gone, he’s stepping up,” Severus said and Lucius nodded.

“He’s going to try and take me down now. He’ll use my position as a Death Eater,” Lucius said, sitting in his usual spot on the sofa.

“He can’t do this,” Harry argued. “You haven’t done anything.”

“They’re just investigating, Harry,” Lucius said. “That doesn’t mean they’ll find anything.”

“What if they do?” Harry whispered, pained. “They’ll take you away. You’ll leave.”

Lucius gave him a gentle look. “I’m not going to leave you, I’ll always be with you.”

Harry met the grey eyes and nodded, but he knew his heart wasn’t in it. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this would not be ending in a good way.

Alexei looked at the case file in his lap, frowning as he read. He knew Fudge was corrupt and a coward, but this was absolutely insane. He was really trying to bring down Lucius Malfoy and, from the looks of things, he had a strong case to succeed.

He sighed and sipped from his goblet. He hoped he could find something to stop the investigation into Lucius. So far, he had nothing. He glanced at Harry who was sitting in that same chair and doing some homework. The boy had been despondent ever since they had learned about the investigation. When asked, Harry would say he was fine but they all knew better. He was convinced Lucius would be found guilty and would be taken away.

Sadly, as of now, the boy wasn’t wrong.

Alexei’s perusal of the file was interrupted when a brown envelope popped into existence in front of him. The special symbol in the bottom left corner immediately told him what it was, making him smile. He took the floating package and opened it, pulling out the papers to review. His smile turned bittersweet as he put aside the investigation. At least he was still able to fix some things.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, getting to his feet. He sighed again when Harry didn’t even react, let alone respond.

Alexei walked around the sofa and to one of the other doors. He knocked and went inside, knowing he had been heard. He watched quietly as Severus finished up the last few steps of the potion before putting it in a stasis.

“What is it?” Severus asked, wiping his hands and the countertop.

Alexei held out the papers. “Something better. I hope it helps Harry at least a little bit.”

Severus gave the vampire a curious glance before looking down to read the papers. He felt his heart jump at the words, feeling joy fill him.

This document states that one

Severus Tobias Snape

has legally taken permanent guardianship of one 

Harry James Potter

and will hereby be responsible for all parental duties in regards to his ward.

“You just need Harry’s signature,” Alexei said. “Proof that he understands and agrees, and hasn’t been coerced in some way.”

“That may be more difficult now,” Severus said, tossing the guardianship papers on the table. “He’s convinced he’s going to be left alone.”

Alexei sighed. “Is he wrong?”

Severus sat on his stool. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There’s a lot against Lucius and it’s not all lies, so it can be used. It will be used.”

“Fudge is only trying to convict him of the Christmas attack and Draco’s murder,” Alexei said. “That means we only have to prove him innocent of that. Fudge is trying to convict him of the notion that he could do it, not that he did do it.”

Severus nodded. “So we have a chance.”

“We do,” Alexei agreed, “but we might not have it until after conviction.”

Severus ran a hand through his dark hair, agitated.

“Forget about it for now,” Alexei said. “Have dinner with the boy and show him that you’re not leaving him.”

Severus let out a heavy breath and tapped the papers contemplatively before nodding. Grabbing the package, the two of them left the lab. Back in the sitting room, Harry had put his homework aside and was staring blankly at the empty fireplace. Alexei took his file and said goodbye—with no response—before leaving the Potions master’s rooms.

“Harry,” Severus said, receiving only a minute head twitch from the boy. “Let’s have some dinner.”

After a few moments, Harry must’ve decided he was still hungry despite his sadness and left his chair. He shuffled silently behind his professor into the kitchen, sitting heavily. They were quiet for some time as the food appeared and they ate. Severus observed the boy. If the investigation went the way he and Alexei were thinking it would, Harry would start a downward spiral again, similar to after Ron died. The child needed to know he had someone to help him.

Severus reached over to grab the papers, sliding them in front of Harry. The boy glanced at them, disinterestedly, and returned to his food. However, a few seconds later, he paused and looked at the forms again, this time reading. He slowly picked them up, his eyes quickly scanning. He flipped through the sheets almost violently and then looked across at Severus with wide eyes.

“What is this?” he asked, clenching the pages tightly.

“That,” Severus said, “is a permanent guardianship document.”

“For…”

“For us,” Severus confirmed. “If you sign, you will officially be my ward. I will be your guardian.”

“Why?” Harry whispered, sounding genuinely confused.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Severus said gently. “I want to keep you with me. I care about you and want to help you.”

Harry blinked, tears in his eyes as he read the papers again. With a sniff, he put the package down and returned to the sitting room. He was back only seconds later, this time holding a quill as he sat back down. He turned to the page that required his signature while still re-reading the first page over and over.

Is this what he wanted?

It’s a guardian, a potential family. This is what you have always wanted, Ron’s voice in his head said.

Was it? Sure it was. He knew that. He had always wanted someone who cared about him and could take care of him. He wanted his own family. Severus was offering just that and he knew Lucius and Alexei came along as though part of a package deal. He liked them all, cared about all of them. It had real potential to become something. So why was he holding back?

Sirius, Ron said.

Right. Sirius. Since last year, it had been Sirius he thought he would be doing this with. It was Sirius, his godfather, he thought would be his guardian, would be taking him in. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Severus, it was more that…

That, maybe, Sirius doesn’t want you, Ron said quietly.

All of a sudden, a loud crack sounded out and the castle shook. Harry flinched and shrunk in his seat, gaining a concerned look from Severus.

“Sounds like a bad storm,” Severus said. “I take it you don’t particularly like storms?”

Harry shook his head. “The thunder would shake the house. It would make the stairs creak, dust would fall down, and the door would rattle. Always sounded like the house would collapse around me and the cupboard. I never had anyone to go to in the night.”

Severus gave him a gentle gaze. “Go in the sitting room. I’ll start a fire and bring some tea.”

Harry gave a small nod and gathered the guardianship papers. He put them on the coffee table and huddled into his chair. He tried to focus on the sounds of Severus making tea, tried to ignore the roaring and cracking outside. He flinched each time the thunder rumbled.

Severus soon came in and lit the fireplace. He handed Harry a cup of the steaming tea.

Harry warmed his hands on the cup of tea as he curled up on his chair. The storm raged outside. How he hated storms but, as he watched the flames, listened to the wood crackling, and felt Severus’ presence, he felt he was…safe here.

“Tell me about your godfather,” the professor said, holding his own cup of tea.

A pause.

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding,” Harry said, finally admitting it. “I’ve sent letters.”

“Has he replied?”

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding.”

With that, Harry set his jaw and flipped through the guardianship forms. He found the right one and quickly signed his name on the blank line.

Dropping the quill, he left his chair and sat beside Severus on the sofa. Still holding his tea, he brought his legs up and leaned into the professor’s side as he—his guardian—draped an arm around his shoulders.

Dear Sirius,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. You obviously don’t want to talk to me. You obviously don’t care about me. If you did, you would’ve answered, you would’ve tried to see me, you would’ve tried to help, you would’ve gotten me out of the Dursleys, you would’ve tried to be my family.

If you cared, you would’ve done everything Severus, Lucius, and Alexei have done. See, they all care about me. They’re all taking care of me and helping me. This has been a really hard year and they’ve been there with me and for me…you haven’t been.

You’ve just been…gone.

So I don’t know why I’m writing. Maybe to tell you it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t need you to answer, or to come see me, or try…because they already have. I have what you should’ve been in them. I have what I need in them. I have what I have always wanted in them.

Severus is my guardian now.

Goodbye, Sirius.

Harry laid his quill down, re-reading what he had written. More emotion than he expected had come out but that was okay. He was telling the truth. He didn’t need Sirius anymore. He had Severus and Lucius and Alexei.

He folded the letter into an envelope and sent it away with Hedwig off the Astronomy Tower. He leaned on the railing and gazed out at the bright horizon. It was March now and warm weather was beginning to come to Hogwarts. He felt…relief.

He had been so concerned about Sirius, had felt so heartbroken to know that his own godfather clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He had been trying to hard all year to get Sirius’ attention, his approval, his worry. In all his trying, he had failed to notice he was getting all of those things and was getting them threefold. He had what he needed and wanted in two Slytherins and a vampire.

He chuckled quietly to himself. How things had changed. He never would have expected any of it.

Suddenly he was interrupted by his scar exploding with pain. His hand flew to his forehead and he fell to his knees. He cried out and his head spun just before his vision tunneled and went back.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself face to face with the stone face of a hooded skeleton. He blinked and took in the rest of the statue, recognizing it from a previous visit. He gazed at the huge stone scythe that the bony hands held before looking around again. He was back in that graveyard, but something was different.

He slowly turned, noticing a dark cauldron that had not been there the last time. He frowned, questioning the presence of a cauldron in a graveyard.

He spun again when he felt something fly behind him. He stared at the statue again and then looked over at the large tombstone that sat beside the skeleton. He couldn’t see the names inscribed on the stone and began to move closer to it. However, before he could get close enough to read there was a flash of green and he was back in that original house where Voldemort was holed up.

There was no Muggle man this time and he was already outside the room. He peeked inside and found the same setup. Pettigrew was near the fireplace, Voldemort was in the chair, Nagini was wrapped around the back of the chair, and the mystery man was knelt in front of the chair.

“The plan is going perfectly, my Lord,” the man said. “He will arrive at the end as planned.”

“You must ensure he gets there first,” Voldemort said, his voice hoarse and raspy. “Do whatever you must.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Harry.”

He spun and was suddenly somewhere else again. He was back in the meadow, standing beside Ron under the large tree. It had changed. There was no light anymore. The sky was completely dark and rain was pouring down around the tree. He looked at Ron in question.

“It’s reflecting what is going on,” Ron said. “Bad things are happening and will continue to happen.”

Harry just sighed.

“Don’t get lost in the darkness. You do have light in your life,” Ron said. “Don’t forget that light. It will always follow the dark. The darkness can’t last forever.”

The green eyes slid open and he found himself in a familiar room. It was Severus’ guestroom, the room he had stayed in so many times. He turned his head, and found Severus and Lucius sitting beside the bed.

“Harry,” Lucius said, leaning forward and placing his hand on Harry’s leg comfortingly.

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked.

“I’m okay,” Harry said quietly. “Head still hurts.”

“What happened?” Lucius asked, mindlessly rubbing the child’s leg through the blankets.

“My scar,” Harry said. “It started to hurt really bad. It was like my dreams except the scar started first and knocked me out, then I saw what I usually do in my nightmares. It ended with Ron.”

“What did you see?” Severus said, obviously concerned.

“Same things,” Harry said. “A graveyard except there was a cauldron this time. Then I was in that house again and Voldemort and the man were talking about how the plan was going properly. Then I went to the meadow with Ron.”

Severus and Lucius looked at each other, worried.

“How did I get here?” Harry asked.

“Alexei found you,” Lucius said. “He brought you down here.”

“Where is he?”

“At the Ministry. He’s found a way to hold off the investigation for a few days at least,” Severus said. “He’s more just stalled until we are all called in for questioning.”

“Questioning?” Harry frowned.

Lucius nodded. “I, of course, will be questioned, but so will the two of you. Severus because of our close friendship and you because of…well, quite frankly, just because. At this point, Fudge doesn’t really need reasons.”

Harry sat up and looked at the two men that had become so important to him. “Do you believe you will win against this case?”

Lucius and Severus glanced at each other again before they both sighed.

“No, child,” Severus said quietly.

“There is very little chance I will escape this,” Lucius said. “However, Alexei will be able to clear me.”

“But you’ll still go to Azkaban,” Harry said and Lucius’ heart broke a little.

“More than likely, yes.”

Harry nodded and then threw the covers aside, jumping out of the bed. “Fine.”

“Harry?” the men said, confused.

“I’m not going to watch someone else go to prison. I’m not going to watch someone else leave,” Harry said. “I’m not going to be left alone again.”

With that, Harry ran out of the professor’s rooms. The men watched him go. Lucius just shook his head sadly.

“You are very good at running and hiding,” Alexei said, coming to sit next to Harry at the edge of the Astronomy Tower. He let his long legs dangle over the side like the child.

“Years of practice,” Harry said, throwing small stones into the air. Many of them didn’t make it to the lakeshore but fell in the water instead. “Besides, not really hiding when everyone comes to the Astronomy Tower.”

“True enough,” the vampire said. He was quiet as a few rocks were tossed away. “I am sorry I will not be able to stop Lucius from being arrested.”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.”

“On the contrary,” Alexei said. “I think it matters very much.”

“Doesn’t change anything so doesn’t matter.”

“If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m not.”

“I think you are.”

Harry threw a stone, a little harder than the others. “It also doesn’t change anything so it also doesn’t matter.”

Alexei observed the child for a few moments before continuing again. “What are you afraid of?”

Harry chucked a rock particularly hard, grinding out, “I’m not afraid.”

Alexei cocked his head to the side and sighed. He looked out at the grounds, quickly spotting the two graves by the lake. Another name drifted through his mind as he thought.

“When my family was executed, I felt lost. I had Grigori but, honestly, I had no one. Grigori had been our advisor and healer, mostly my healer. He was the help, not my family. He couldn’t be what I had lost,” Alexei said. He didn’t look at Harry and the boy didn’t speak, but he knew the child was listening. “As I was a young boy, I obviously had no choice but to accept Grigori was what I had left. As I did so, I came to realize what I had gained with him. He was my father, mother, friend, protector, teacher. He was also memories. He had memories of my parents that I didn’t, even had memories of my siblings and I that I didn’t. For a long time, it truly felt like I had lost everything and, quite frankly, I had. I had to learn, though, that the loss couldn’t stop me from getting something else, something new, something similar but in a different way.”

They were quiet as the vampire finished his story. Harry looked down at the stone he was turning over and over in his hand. He moved his gaze to Ron and Draco, thinking of them, thinking of Hermione and Ginny. His eyes moved again, glancing over towards the Whomping Willow. He thought of that night last year, and of Sirius and Lupin. He thought of all the promises they had all made to him, all now broken. Promises, such as those from Ron, he forgave. Promises, such as those from Sirius, he couldn’t forget.

“I’m always left alone,” he said quietly, still staring at the vicious tree. “I don’t mean to pity myself. I’ve been alone my whole life and I’ve managed just fine. It seems like that alone, though, is different. Until Hogwarts, I didn’t know anything else.”

He paused, looking back down at the rocks he held.

“I’ve lost more this year than I ever thought I could and I don’t feel like I’ve gained anything. How can you fill something emptied by so many people?”

Alexei looked at him as Harry just dropped all the stones he held off the Tower. They all soared down into the water.

“It was Sirius I should’ve been with all along,” Harry continued, “but he couldn’t be bothered with me, not then, not now. He promised to take me from the Dursleys’, promised we could have a home, by together, be a family. I believed him but now…”

Harry lifted his shoulders and let them drop heavily, shaking his head.

“Lupin promised we’d see each other again, that he’d always be available to help. He’s gone too,” Harry said. “Now Lucius will go to prison. Everyone I have ever counted on, everyone I have ever meant to be with, has vanished. Everyone has easily forgotten about me and left me alone each time.”

“I can’t say anything for your godfather or this Lupin, but I can say something for Lucius,” Alexei said. “He will not forget you. He will leave and go to prison because he has to, because he is being made to. He would never choose to leave you. He could never voluntarily leave you. Even for the short time he is in Azkaban, he will not forget you. You will be what he holds onto to make it through to the other side.

“Additionally, you will never be completely alone again. Surely you remember those guardianship papers you and Severus signed. Those don’t just go away, rebenok.”

“Sure they do,” Harry said. “Like I said, I should have been with Sirius but he didn’t give a damn. He had more important things to worry about and none of them have ever involved me.”

“You’re putting Severus at the same standards as your godfather?” Alexei said. “You have that low of an opinion?”

“Not of Severus personally, of all adults,” Harry said. “Can’t have faith in something you’ve never had.”

Alexei sighed again. “If you truly believe Severus could abandon you, you don’t know him very well.”

Harry looked at the vampire with a hard look. “I never seem to really know anyone.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Malfoy,” Head Auror Gawain Robards said, sitting on the other side of the table. Lucius and Alexei sat. “And this is?” the Auror said, gesturing to Alexei.

“Mr. Romanov, my lawyer,” Lucius said, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back in the chair.

Robards glared at the vampire who just raised an eyebrow in response, crossing his long legs. “Mr. Malfoy, you are here for questioning in regards to the Death Eater attack at Hogwarts on Christmas day and the murder of your son, Draco Malfoy.”

Lucius just stared at him.

“You were the one that informed the party in the Great Hall that Death Eaters had broken in.”

“Yes.”

“Where were you that allowed you to know what was happening?”

“My wife and I were in the Entrance Hall, getting ready to leave,” Lucius said. “I saw them coming down the stairs.”

“Did they see you?”

“Right then? No. I may have been spotted during the fight.”

“You said you saw them coming down the stairs. What did you mean?”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Exactly what I said. I saw them coming down the Grand Staircase. You don’t honestly think they just walked through the front door.”

The Auror glared at Lucius. “Then how did they enter the castle?”

“Despite what you believe, how would I know?”

“You are a Death Eater?”

“I was. I have renounced.”

“Publicly?”

“No. If I did so publicly, my family and I would be murdered.”

Robards hummed, obviously skeptical. “What were you doing at Hogwarts that night, Mr. Malfoy?”

“My wife and I had arrived earlier in the day to bring our son his dress robes. He was not returning home for the holidays and we wished to see him. We left him at the ball and we were on our way home.”

“It is interesting that Death Eaters happened to break in the same night you decided to visit the school.”

“Yes, it is,” Lucius said.

“You willingly took the Dark Mark, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You voluntarily followed and obeyed You-Know-Who?”

“Yes.”

“What kinds of things did you do for him?”

“Nothing that pertains to the reason I am here.”

“But it does. You see, we think you murdered your own son. It doesn’t seem too far off when you factor in the fact that you have willingly tortured and murdered in the past.”

“Right. In the past,” Lucius emphasized. “And I would never hurt my own son.”

“Maybe you didn’t,” Robards said. “Maybe you just orchestrated the whole thing. Had a buddy murder your son for you so you could come out the innocent one.”

“Elaborate,” Lucius said. “Quite the tale.”

Robards smirked.

“Are we done?” Alexei jumped in.

Robards sneered. “For now. I’ll get you, Malfoy. You’ll be in Azkaban before you know it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lucius said, standing with Alexei. “The question is, for how long?”

We’re coming.

Harry frowned at the two words on the otherwise blank piece of parchment. It had been a regular barn owl that had delivered it rather than Hedwig, making it even more suspicious. Was it a threat? Something from Death Eaters? Was there about to be another attack?

He looked up at the staff table to get Severus’ attention. He managed after a few seconds and subtly gestured to the Hall doors. He received a minute nod and he left Gryffindor table, heading out into the Entrance Hall. He waited by the giant House hourglasses until Severus came through a side door.

“What is it?” Severus asked and Harry handed him the note. After a quick look, the professor gave Harry a tense stare. “Any idea who it is from?”

Harry shook his head. “It wasn’t Hedwig that delivered it so I haven’t got a clue.”

Severus examined the note again, obviously concerned. He had just taken out his wand to scan the parchment when the front doors flew open.

Harry blinked in shock. “Sirius. Professor Lupin. What are you doing here?”

Sirius and Lupin said nothing as they stormed up to Severus and Harry. Lupin stopped by Harry while Sirius walked right up to Severus and punched him across the face.

“Sirius!” Harry yelled. He made to run to his guardian but was held back by his former professor. “What are you doing? Let me go.”

“Snape, you complete bastard,” Sirius spat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with Harry? Why the games? What are you getting out of this?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, utterly confused, still struggling against Lupin. “What are you talking about? What games?”

“Mind games, Harry, he’s playing you, manipulating you,” Sirius said, his eyes never leaving Severus who was standing straight again. Severus had a small trail of blood coming from his nose. His eyes were hard, flashing, and he was gripping his wand tightly. Harry recognized the signs. His guardian had very little left and would blow up very soon.

“I have done nothing,” Severus said stiffly. “All I’ve done is everything you should have.”

Sirius swung again, but Severus was able to duck and avoid being struck. He quickly waved his wand and Sirius was knocked backwards.

“Wait, stop!” Harry shouted, fighting against Lupin.

“Harry, it’s okay. We’re here now, we’ll help,” Lupin said.

“Help? Help with what? I don’t need any help,” Harry said, watching Sirius clamber to his feet.

“Bastard,” Sirius growled, glowering at Severus and pulling his own wand. “You expect me to believe you didn’t do something to Harry? Out of nowhere he tells me you’re his guardian? No way does that happen without a curse or potion.” He sliced his wand through the air, throwing a Cutting Curse at Severus who deflected.

“If he was vulnerable to manipulation, it would only be because of your near abandonment of him,” Severus said. “However, no manipulation required. All I did was help him, care about him.”

Sirius waved his wand again, casting a strong Burning Curse. The men continued their fight, Sirius’ curses getting steadily more dangerous. Harry couldn’t help but notice how Severus was remaining defensive, using only shields, deflections, and spells that cause very little damage. He was surprised. It wasn’t like Severus to be defensive, especially against someone he hated as much as Sirius.

Harry fought against Lupin, wanting to get between the fight, wanting to stop them from hurting each other, stop Sirius from hurting Severus.

“Let me go!” Harry yelled again.

After a particularly vicious Disintegrating Curse cast at Severus’ leg, both men cast simple Disarming Spells. Each hit their targets and both men lost their wands. It didn’t slow Sirius down, though, as he instantly ran at Severus, instigating a physical fight.

And Severus stopped holding back. He dodged, defended, and threw plenty of his own hits. Both men’s faces were quickly becoming bruised and bloody, Sirius’ more so. Severus was clearly the better, more experienced fighter. Harry hated to think about all the things that would have caused Severus to learn to fight so proficiently.

“Let. Me. Go," Harry growled and finally got free from Lupin. He ran over to his guardian and godfather, stepping between them. He went to speak only to have a heavy fist crash into his left cheek. He cried out at the intense pain that came with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor beside Severus’ legs, a hand over his cheek. He looked up through tears to find Sirius falling to the floor as well, a dead weight.

“Never touch Harry again,” Severus hissed, kneeling next to Harry. “Let me see,” he said quietly, and gently pulled Harry’s hand away.

“Did you…” Harry trailed off, pain spiking through his cheek.

“Kill him?” Severus said and gave a small smirk. “No, I didn’t. Just knocked him out. Though he deserves more.”

“Harry, get away from him,” Lupin said, knelt beside Sirius. “Look what he’s done to Sirius.”

“Sirius attacked him,” Harry said shortly. “Protecting us, me. My guardian.”

“He is not your guardian. He doesn’t care about you. It’s not safe with him,” Lupin said. “We care about you.”

“You left me,” Harry said and then looked at Severus. “Hospital Wing, please.”

Severus nodded and helped the child up. He threw a glare at Sirius and Lupin before supporting Harry to the Hospital Wing. Harry was sat on his customary bed and Pomfrey was called.

“Are you alright?” Severus asked, sitting in a chair beside the bed.

“I’m okay,” Harry said. He looked down, sad. “I don’t understand why they acted like that.”

“You know we have never liked each other,” Severus said, sighing a little. “Many would think the same way, that I have done something to trick you.”

“You would never do that,” Harry argued.

“Which you know now but even you would’ve thought the same thing only last year,” Severus said.

Harry winced as Pomfrey magically set his fractured cheekbone. “True, but I’ve been telling Sirius about how things have been changing. It’s not my fault he never answered a single letter. They’re the ones that left me.”

Severus nodded. “I know.”

“Don’t leave me,” Harry whispered. 

Severus grasped the child’s hand. “Never.”

“Something is going on!” Sirius shouted.

Harry just shook his head with a sigh, turning his head to look out the window. They were all up in Dumbledore’s office: Severus, Lucius, Alexei, Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Harry himself. It was three days after the ambush by Sirius and Lupin. Harry had hidden in the dungeons the entire weekend, ignoring all contact attempts. He still couldn’t believe Sirius and Lupin had attacked them. He knew they hated Severus but couldn’t believe the extent of it.

So now they were all up in the headmaster’s office, trying to resolve the situation but doing more yelling and insulting than anything else. Harry had quickly given up trying to explain anything and had sat on the window seat silently instead.

“There is some kind of enchantment or potion involved and I demand it be dealt with!” Sirius continued.

“How could you allow this to happen, Albus?” Lupin implored and Harry rolled his eyes. As if Dumbledore had had any part of the whole thing.

“I was unaware of this guardianship business,” Dumbledore said. “I certainly did not allow this to happen. I gave no permission or anything of the sort.”

“Your permission was not required,” Severus sneered. “All we needed was the documentation, a witness, and Ministry approval, all of which we got.”

“There is no possible way the Ministry approved such a request.” Dumbledore frowned.

“I know people,” Alexei spoke up casually.

“Who exactly are you?” Sirius snapped, looking over at the vampire.

“A friend,” Alexei and Harry said in unison, grinning at each other across the room.

Sirius growled angrily. “Who is he?” he asked Dumbledore.

“Alexei,” Dumbledore said, “the vampire friend of Severus and Lucius.”

“A vampire!” Sirius yelled. “You’ve let a vampire in the school, near my godson?”

“He’s not evil, Sirius,” Harry said, but was ignored.

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair before turning to Severus. He shoved a finger into the man’s face. “Whatever you’ve done, end it. Now. I won’t have you cursing and manipulating my godson. I don’t know what you’re getting out of this but it ends now.”

“He’s my guardian, Sirius, that’s not changing,” Harry said.

“It’s all lies, Harry,” Sirius said, never looking away from Severus. “You know he hates you. He hates all of us, including your father. He is manipulating you, trying to make you forget who you are. You’re a Potter and Potters don’t associate with Snape.”

Harry finally left his seat and walked around Sirius and Lupin, standing with the others. “My father didn’t associate with Snape. I’m not my father. Sorry to break this delusion of yours.”

“What’s happened to you?” Sirius said in a pained tone as though Harry had personally betrayed him.

“A lot, which you would know had you bothered to read my letters,” Harry said.

“I did read them,” Sirius said defensively.

“Then where were you?” Harry questioned quietly. “If you knew about everything, where were you? Where were you when Ron died? When Draco died? When I became a Champion? When I fought a dragon and grindylows? When I lost everything, where were you?”

“Harry, I—“

“You weren’t there, but they were.”

“I’m on the run, you know that.”

“Yet here you are. The moment something happens that you don’t personally like, you risk your life and come here.”

“Harry, you know that’s not true,” Sirius said.

“Really?” Harry said, looking at his godfather, pained. “I never got even a word from you during everything that’s happened. When Ron died, I needed you. I needed you so much but you weren’t there. You ignored me while I dealt with losing my best friend, something you should’ve been able to empathize with. When I needed you most, something else was more important to you.”

“Harry,” Sirius said, looking pained himself but also irritated. “It’s Snape.”

“So?” Harry said. “They may be just people and enemies to you, but they are everything to me.”

“They are nothing,” Sirius hissed and Harry frowned, his eyes narrowing.

“Alexei isn’t just a vampire. He’s the one that made sure I was free of the Dursleys but setting up the guardianship. He’s also my friend who tells me awesome stories, gives advice, and listens to me. Lucius isn’t just a Malfoy. He’s the one that’s saved my life, that’s taken care of me and cared about me even though we used to be enemies. He’s the one that lost his whole family this year and has become mine.

“Severus isn’t just Snape. He’s the one that’s done everything for me when he didn’t have to. We hated each other. Even when we still didn’t like each other, he helped me. He helped me after Ron and Draco, after Slytherins and Hermione attacked and turned on me. He’s helped me through this tournament. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it past the First Task. He saved me this year, Sirius.”

Sirius shook his head slowly. “How could you do this?”

“How could you?” Harry returned. He and Sirius stared at each other for a time before Harry sighed and turned. He met Alexei’s eyes. The vampire nodded and left the office with Harry.

“Albus,” Lupin said, turning back to the headmaster.

“I’m afraid I have no knowledge of this arrangement,” Dumbledore said. He looked over his glasses at Severus.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” Severus snapped.

“Like hell!” Sirius yelled. “That’s my godson!”

“Then act like it,” Severus said hatefully before sweeping out with Lucius.

Severus and Lucius entered Severus’ rooms to find only Alexei. There was no sign of Harry. They both cast questioning glances at the vampire who sighed.

“He went to the lab,” Alexei said, sitting on the sofa. “I think he is looking for a distraction.”

Severus nodded and went to his personal lab. He had finally allowed the boy access so that Harry could practice his brewing whenever he wanted. They were also to begin the detection potion for Harry soon. They had meant to start weeks earlier, but so many things kept pushing it back.

He entered the room quietly, finding Harry sitting at one of the long counters, brooding over that Mulligan book as he had been all year. The boy wasn’t reading or studying, he was staring blankly. Pain was etched across his face and Severus felt his heart ache with sympathy.

He hated Black and Lupin, and he always would, but that was him. They meant something to Harry, were people Harry thought he could trust, people Harry thought would be family. For Harry, this was all a betrayal.

As Severus stood there, silently watching the young boy, he realized he had no idea what to do now. His own feelings towards Lupin and Black were telling him to tell Harry to forget about them, but he couldn’t do that. The men were links to Harry’s parents, strong links. Black was the child’s godfather. He couldn’t tell Harry to forget them like they meant nothing.

So what did he do?

In the silence and Severus’ dilemma, a quiet sob broke through. Glancing back at the boy revealed Harry had folded over the table, buried his face, and now possessed trembling shoulders. Severus’ heart pulled and he approached his crying ward. Without a word, he placed a hand on Harry’s back as initial comfort. Harry took it further, instantly sitting up, turning, and wrapping his arms around his guardian’s waist, burying his face in Severus’ cloak.

“I hate him,” came Harry’s muffled voice.

Severus sighed, keeping his one hand on Harry’s back and putting the other on the back of the boy’s head. “No, you don’t, child.”

“I should.”

“Don’t,” Severus said quietly, gently messing with the black hair. “Don’t hate. Only sympathize and empathize. Never hate.”

Harry pulled back slightly, looking up at his guardian with red, watery eyes. “You hate them.”

Severus gave a sardonic smile. “And look at the kind of man I’ve become.”

“You’re the best man,” Harry replied quickly and honestly. Severus smiled down at the boy. He brushed the hair back from Harry’s forehead and kissed his head before pulling the child back into the embrace.

“Whose gravestone is it?” Harry asked, leaning back against the tree with Ron, watching the pouring rain and lightning.

Ron sighed. “I can’t tell you that,” he said. “You know something’s you…”

“Have to find out myself, I know,” Harry interrupted with his own sigh. He looked down at his lap. “I’m so done with everything, Ron.”

“I know,” Ron said sympathetically. “Things will get better.”

“You keep saying that, but so far it only seems like things are getting worse.”

“What about the guardianship?”

“That’s great. I’m really happy about that, but that’s also come at the expense of Sirius.”

“He just doesn’t understand,” Ron said.

“But why?” Harry said desperately. “Even my godfather doesn’t want me to be happy.”

“Then ignore him the way he did you. Severus and Lucius and Alexei…they’re the one that have helped you and make you happy. Focus on being with them and being happy.”

Harry just shook his head and looked back out at the rain. “I don’t know if I know what ‘happy’ is anymore, to be honest.”

Ron said nothing in response, but Harry did hear a quiet sigh come from his friend. He just continued to watch the never-ending storm.

Harry ran a hand over his face and stared down at his work. The study hall was nearly silent except for scratching quills, mumbled consultations, and the steady thump of Moody’s limp. Neville was sat across from him but he refused to look up in case he accidentally engaged the mad professor.

So he kept his eyes down and on his work. He was struggling with the Potions assignment they had been given. He had been getting slightly better at Potions since his relationship with Severus improved, but he still had a difficult time. He knew he could ask Severus for help but he felt like that could be considered cheating now the professor was his guardian. It didn’t seem right to ask his guardian for help when his guardian was a professor at his school. Severus could be accused of favouritism.

He would just have to figure it out on his own somehow.

He paused in his musings when he felt a presence behind him. He glanced at Neville from under his hair, finding his friend also looking at him. Neville gave a tiny head shake before going back to his work. From the twisting in his stomach, Harry knew exactly who was behind him.

“Potter,” the gruff voice of Moody said as the man clunked back a few steps so he was to Harry’s left rather than behind him.

He hesitated, but eventually Harry turned his head to look at the professor. He frowned at the man’s tongue darting out the corner of his mouth again.

“Headmaster wants ta see yeh,” Moody grumbled, his magical eye rolling wildly.

“Okay,” Harry said simply, gathering his things.

“No detours, Potter. There and back,” Moody said as Harry stood.

Harry just nodded, not sure how to respond and once again distracted by the man’s apparently involuntary tick. He left the study hall and almost rushed to Dumbledore’s office just to get away from Moody. He knocked on the door and was given entrance.

“Ah, Harry,” Dumbledore said cordially, standing from his chair behind the desk. “If you will give me a moment, there is something I must do before we have our little chat.”

“Of course,” Harry said and, with a smile, Dumbledore disappeared through one of the other doors at the back of the office.

Harry blew out a breath and gazed around the office. So many books and trinkets decorated the room, along with numerous portraits of what Harry assumed were previous headmasters. He thought he vaguely recognized Professor Dippet. He was much older in his portrait than he had been in Tom Riddle’s memory back in second year.

He brought his eyes to the other side and spotted the Sorting Hat on its usual top shelf. The memory of his sorting ceremony flitted through his mind. At first he saw nothing but Ron and he smiled sadly to himself at the memory. The it changed and he remembered how much the Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin. He frowned. Should he have been in Slytherin? If he did have a pat of Voldemort’s soul in him, was he like Voldemort? Was that the part of him that belonged in Slytherin? Belonging to Slytherin didn’t mean anything more than belonging to any of the other three houses. Hell, two of the men he cared for most and who cared about him were Slytherins.

Harry shook his head with a sigh. He moved to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk, but a quiet click made him pause.

With his eyebrows drawn together, he turned and found an intricate cupboard had opened. He frowned. Was it supposed to be open? Maybe Dumbledore hadn’t latched it properly. He gazed curiously at the large basin, noticing the shimmering liquid inside. The water cast a soft but bright blue light over the cabinet doors. He was drawn to the basin and his feet brought him over. He stared down at the surface, for a while only seeing his own reflection looking back at him.

Then it changed. His reflection disappeared and it was just shimmering water. Except for one thing. There was something small seemingly at the bottom of the basin. As he leaned closer it seemed to grow larger until he could make out human shapes. He leaned down, getting even closer to the water’s surface until he was submerged.

However, rather than simply getting wet, he found himself falling. He let out a surprised yell and then a grunt as he landed hard on his feet. He gazed around, realizing he was on the outskirts of the scene. The room was circular with many long rows of seats and tabletops lining it. They encircled and looked down at a single cage which stood in the center of the room. The cage was tall and narrow, made of black iron with about two dozen arrowheads on iron poles facing the inside. It looked horrific.

He moved forward towards the closest people sitting together in a section of the stands. He passed by a couple unnoticed and he realized he must be in a memory, just like with Tom Riddle’s diary in second year. As he got closer, his eyes widened as he recognized the younger but still familiar faces of Dumbledore, Moody, and, farther down, Barty Crouch.

He spun at a loud clanking noise only to find a man chained to a chair appearing in the cage, rising from the floor.

“Karkaroff?” he whispered to himself in disbelief. The man before him looked almost nothing like the man he knew as Durmstrang’s highmaster. This man was sickly pale and deathly thin. His hair was messy, lank, and greasy. His hands and fingernails were filthy and his eyes haunted, but also filled with a need for revenge. There was still the same sinister look in the black eyes.

“Igor Karkaroff, you have been brought here to provide names of known Death Eaters in exchange for your release from Azkaban,” Crouch said and Harry frowned.

Azkaban? Karkaroff was a Death Eater? He briefly flashed back to that night months ago when he had found Karkaroff and Moody in a room looking at Karkaroff’s arm. They must’ve been looking at the Dark Mark but why would Moody have been doing so? Wasn’t he an Auror, someone meant to catch Dark wizards like Death Eaters?

He shook his head and tuned back into the proceedings.

“Evan Rosier,” Karkaroff said in a shaky voice.

“Dead,” a woman to Crouch’s left said and Crouch gave Karkaroff a hard stare.

“Dead?” Karkaroff repeated in apparent surprise. “What about Dolohov? Antonin Dolohov?”

“Arrested,” the woman said again and Crouch appeared to be getting angry now.

“If you have nothing of value…” Crouch began.

“Wait, wait!” Karkaroff yelled. “MacNair and the Crabbes and the Goyles! Lucius Malfoy!”

“All have been or are under investigation,” Crouch said irritably and Karkaroff let out a wail of despair.

“Severus Snape! You-Know-Who’s right-hand man!” Karkaroff said desperately.

Dumbledore stood. “Severus Snape is a Death Eater no longer. He has been cleared of all accusations and crimes, and is now a spy for the Light.”

“Lies!” Karkaroff hissed.

“The prisoner has given no new information,” Crouch said. “Return him to Azkaban.”

“No, wait!” Karkaroff shouted, grasping the bars of the cage. “There is another! One who aided in the torture of the Longbottoms!”

Everyone fell silent and looked at Karkaroff intently.

“Alongside Bellatrix Lestrange,” Karkaroff said, calming and quieting as he realized he had the room’s attention. “He has been feeding inside Ministry information directly to the Dark Lord.”

“Give a name,” Crouch demanded.

Karkaroff gave a twisted smirk. “Barty Crouch Jr.,” he said in a quiet but satisfied tone.

Everyone gasped and turned to a young man that had quickly risen from his seat and had been trying to sneak out. He was hit with a Tripping Charm and he went crashing to the floor. The room was in an uproar and Ministry officials rushed to restrain the accused man.

Harry jumped to his feet to keep everything in sight. They hauled Crouch Jr. to his feet, and father and son locked eyes.

“Father,” Crouch Jr. hissed and Crouch’s face hardened.

“I have no son,” he whispered and his son was dragged from the room.

Harry stared as they passed. Crouch Jr. was impeccably dressed. He had well-combed brown hair and a young, square face. However, there was truly only one thing Harry noticed before he was pulled from the memory.

An involuntary tick that caused the man’s tongue to dart out of his mouth periodically.

He landed back in Dumbledore’s office, his mind spinning.

“Curiosity can be dangerous.”

Harry whirled around at the headmaster’s voice. “I’m...I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”

Dumbledore waved a hand. “No matter. Have you learned anything?”

“What happened to Crouch’s son?” Harry asked.

“Sent to Azkaban and died there,” Dumbledore said.

“Died?” Harry repeated, confused and Dumbledore nodded. “I’ve seen him, sir. In dreams. He’s with Voldemort and Pettigrew. He’s being ordered to get me.”

Dumbledore gave him a sharp look. “Must just be dreams, my boy. Barty Jr. died in Azkaban years ago.”

Harry frowned. “Right.”

“I think that’ll be all, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “Have a good evening.”

“Sir!” Harry protested but Dumbledore was already disappearing into another room. Harry let out a breath of frustration and left the office.

Once outside the office, he looked around and dug in his bag, pulling out the Marauder’s Map. He tapped it with his wand, whispering, and watched as the whole of Hogwarts was revealed. He walked slowly as he stared at the map, scanning. Nothing could fool the map. It saw through Invisibility Cloaks and Animagi. It must be able to see through Polyjuice Potion as well.

He continued staring at the map, never looking up at where he was going. And that was the reason he found himself badly startled when hands landed on his shoulders, halting his walk. He looked up and saw Lucius giving him an amused smile.

“Best watch where you’re going,” Lucius said, removing his hands and Harry realized he had been about to go down a flight of stairs. That would not have ended well. “What’s captured your attention?”

Harry folded the map as he considered the man. Lucius worked at the Ministry, had known Barty Crouch Sr. He probably knew about Barty Crouch Jr.

“What do you know about Crouch’s son?” Harry eventually asked, gaining a look of surprise.

“Barty Jr.?” Lucius said and Harry nodded. “He was a Death Eater. He was sent to Azkaban for it, died there.”

Harry frowned. “Are you sure he died?”

Lucius gave him a confused look. “I’m sure. Crouch identified the body himself and arranged the burial. I’m the one that signed the death certificate.”

Harry’s frown deepened.

“What’s going on, Harry?” Lucius asked.

Harry didn’t answer right away. His attention was caught by the figure at the bottom of the stairs. Moody had stopped on the landing and met Harry’s eyes. The man’s tongue darted out familiarly before he turned and went down the corridor off the landing.

“Harry?”

“I have no idea.”

“We can begin the potion, if you’d like,” Severus said, sitting on the sofa and looking at Harry in the chair. “Alexei was able to find the final ingredients.”

Harry looked up from his Potions homework, still working on the same assignment and having just as little success. He thought about his guardian’s offer. Did he still want the potion? Did he want to know? Did he want to find out if he had a piece of Voldemort inside him?

“You can think about it,” Severus said.

Harry nodded and turned back to his work. He propped his elbow up and leaned his head on his hand, letting out a deep breath.

“What are you working on?” Severus asked casually.

“Potions,” Harry admitted.

“You understand the project?”

“Yeah, I’m figuring it out,” Harry lied. He still didn’t think it was right to get Severus’ help with his school work, particularly Potions.

Severus gave him a searching gaze. “Are you alright? You have seemed very distracted the last week.”

“I’m fine,” Harry lied again.

He had been very distant and distracted ever since seeing the memory in Dumbledore’s office. He felt like he was losing his mind. He swore it was Barty Crouch Jr. in his dreams and Moody had the same involuntary tick, yet everyone he asked said Barty Crouch Jr. was dead. Dumbledore, Lucius, and Severus couldn’t all be wrong so Crouch Jr. must be dead, but then how was he seeing Crouch Jr. in his nightmares? He had to be seeing things, had to be wrong, had to be losing his mind. Maybe it was all the stress and grief of the year.

He sighed and packed up his things suddenly. “I’m going to head back to the Tower. I’ll see you later at dinner.”

Severus frowned as he watched the child leave, hands in his pockets and his head down. Harry shuffled his way up to the Tower from the dungeons. The only thing he had been able to think about for days was how much he wanted Ron back. Things would seem so much better and Ron would be on his side no matter what. He never felt crazy around Ron.

He looked up when he felt a breeze and realized he had gone outside rather than to the Tower. He knew where he had been unconsciously going and continued on until he was in front of Ron’s headstone. He immediately dropped his bag and sat on the ground, not caring about the damp grass. He crossed his legs and leaned on his knees, staring at Ron’s grave.

“I miss you,” Harry said. “Everything’s so hard. I don’t want to do it anymore. Nothing makes sense and I have no one. I can’t do this alone anymore. I wish you were here, that you had never left. It isn’t fair. I want someone and I want someone to want me. You were always there. I want you back, to help me through all of this. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Harry?”

He glanced up at Lucius, noting the concerned face, but quickly turned back to Ron. He gave no response when Lucius sat down beside him.

“Is everything alright?” Lucius asked gently.

“I guess,” Harry said dully, ignoring the hair that was blown into his eyes by the light wind. He heard Lucius sigh, but said nothing.

“We’ve all been trying to decide where to live this summer,” Lucius said casually, filling the silent void. “I’m going to sell the manor. I don’t want to be there anymore. Severus has never really—“

“How do you do it?” Harry interrupted, his voice quiet.

“Do what?”

“Go on,” Harry said, his voice now breaking. “You’ve lost your whole family. How do you keep going or be happy?”

Lucius gave him a heartbroken look before gazing at his son’s grave. “With great effort and every fibre of my being,” he said. “It is the hardest part of my day, getting up and continuing a new day without them. They are in every single one of my thoughts.”

“Do you want them back?”

“Every second of every day,” Lucius said and turned his eyes back to the child. “What is plaguing your mind?”

Harry dropped his head, sniffling as tears threatened to fall. “Ron,” he whispered. “Everything’s so hard this year and I just want him back.”

Lucius’ heart ached for the boy. “Harry…”

“I’ve been all alone all year and I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want him with me to make everything better. He would help me and believe me and make things easy. He would be with me and stay with me, and I know he would always stay. I never had to question that.”

“Who is leaving you? Why are you alone?”

“Everyone,” Harry choked. “Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Lupin, Sirius…everyone.”

“What about what you’re gained?” Lucius said. “Myself, Alexei, Severus.”

“Gonna leave,” Harry said, sniffing again. “I’m always alone. Everyone leaves. No one ever wants me. You will all see and decide the same thing.”

“Oh, Harry,” Lucius whispered. “Let me tell you something about Severus. When he cares about someone—loves someone—he puts his entire being into it and he never stops.”

“Doesn’t love me,” Harry muttered. “No one does.”

Lucius sighed again. He reached out and gently turned Harry to face him. Harry continued to stare at the ground until Lucius raised his head, kind grey eyes meeting broken green.

“Listen to me, child,” Lucius said earnestly. “He loves you. We all do.”

Harry started to shake his head, but Lucius stopped him, keeping their eyes locked.

“We love you. Severus, Alexei, and I…we each love you and we will make sure you believe us one day,” Lucius said and Harry’s tears spilled over. “I know how much you miss Ron and I am so sorry you’ve had to go through losing him, but you are not alone. You have some friends and you will always have us. We are never letting you go.”

Harry sobbed and collapsed into Lucius’ arms and chest.

“I know you miss him and you always will, but you will never be alone. You will always have us. We will always love you.” Lucius hugged the child close, pressing his cheek to the top of Harry’s head. “You are loved,” he whispered and continued to repeat it as Harry cried, and he looked at the graves of his son and the beloved Ron Weasley.

“So, what is it people aren’t believing you about?” Lucius asked some time later.

He and Harry had eventually moved so they were sitting under and leaning against the tree, still gazing at the graves. Harry was against Lucius’ side with the man’s arm around his neck and fingers messing with his hair. Harry had finally calmed down. He was still sad, but felt a little better with Lucius’ help.

“It’s more I don’t have enough proof to go against something several people swear happened,” Harry said.

“What is it?”

Harry hesitated. “I think Barty Crouch Jr. is alive.”

Lucius’ hand stilled for a moment before resuming its actions. “You do? What makes you think that?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” Harry said. “I know you said you signed the death certificate, but I’ve seen him. Well, in my nightmares but I’ve seen him. I know it’s him from the memory I saw in Dumbledore’s office. It’s the same person. He’s alive and working for Voldemort trying to get me. Maybe he’s the one using Polyjuice Potion to be someone else in the school. I don’t know but I know he’s alive. I know he is.”

They were silent for a while as Lucius thought about Harry’s claim. Eventually, Harry sighed.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

Lucius tilted Harry’s face up so they could meet eyes. “Never,” he said adamantly and Harry smiled. “Unfortunately, I cannot investigate myself so we will enlist Alexei’s help.”

Harry chuckled. “How does he have so much influence when he doesn’t even work at the Ministry anymore?”

“Has he not told you?” Lucius said and Harry sat up, frowning.

“Told me what?”

“He was Minister for Magic once and then on the Wizengamot under a Minister before Fudge. We were also on the Board of Governors together which is how we came to truly know each other,” Lucius explained, smirking at Harry’s awed expression.

“Wasn’t he also Severus’ Potions mentor?” Harry asked and Lucius nodded. “Merlin! Why hasn’t he said anything?”

Lucius hummed, amused. “Probably waiting for just the right time to startle you most.”

“He is oddly amused by shocking the life out of people,” Harry mused.

“He’s immortal, Harry,” Lucius said, climbing to his feet. “He has to keep busy lest he get bored and you do not want him to get bored.”

Harry gave the blonde a curious look. “Why not?”

Lucius just smirked, leading him back to the castle without saying a word.

“You were the Minister for Magic?” Harry burst out the moment he was in Severus’ rooms and spotted the vampire.

Alexei gave him and Lucius disappointed looks. “You told him? Well, now you’ve ruined the fun.”

Lucius just shrugged with a grin, going over to the bemused Severus in the study doorway.

“Were you planning on telling me?” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“Sure,” Alexei said, “on my deathbed.”

Harry scowled. “You’re immortal.”

“Ah, yes, suppose I forgot that small detail,” Alexei said dramatically, far too amused.

“Alexei!” Harry protested and the vampire laughed.

“Fine, fine, come sit,” Alexei said, patting the sofa cushion beside him. Harry instantly sat beside the Russian man. “Yes, I was the British Minister for Magic but it was a long time ago, even before your great-grandparents’ time.”

“How long were you the Minister?”

“Twenty-six years,” Alexei said. “I got bored fast.”

Harry gaped. “But that’s a long time.”

“Not for a vampire,” Alexei pointed out and Harry nodded in agreement.

“Were you ever at the Ministry with Fudge as Minister?”

Alexei shook his head. “I left after the Minister I worked under became oddly ill.”

Harry frowned. “Oddly?”

“Yes, it was very strange,” Alexei said. “He contracted a rare, mysterious illness and was forced to resign because of it. It was widely believed to have been a plot set by someone.”

“Who?” Harry asked. “Who would do that?” His frown deepened at the glance Alexei sent Lucius.

“You can tell him,” Lucius said. “He’s very much aware the Malfoys have less than stellar records.”

Alexei sighed at the man’s self-deprecation, turning back to the child. “Abraxas Malfoy was thought to be a part of the ploy.”

Harry looked at Lucius. “Your—“

“My father,” Lucius confirmed.

“But why?” Harry asked. “Why would he want to do such a thing to the Minister for Magic?”

“Because Minister Nobby Leach was Muggleborn,” Lucius answered bitterly.

Harry blinked in surprise. “There have been Muggleborn Ministers?”

“He was the first and only,” Alexei said.

“There have been more women as Ministers for Magic than Muggleborns,” Lucius said.

“There’s a lot of negativity behind being Muggleborn still, isn’t there?” Harry said, continuing to frown. The men nodded sadly.

“Negativity that has only been reinforced by families such as the Malfoys and those that have followed Voldemort,” Lucius said.

“You’re not like that,” Harry argued.

“Anymore,” Lucius said. “It has been a very short period of time that I have stopped believing in ‘pure blood’.”

Harry flashed back to second year. It was the first time Draco had called Hermione that terrible name. At Hagrid’s for Ron’s backfired curse, Hagrid had explained to Harry what the name meant, saying how there were families that only believed in ‘pure blood’. He also remembered the end of second year after Dobby stopped Lucius from killing him. He remembered how Lucius had spoken of his parents and their deaths. 

Burdened by old feelings, Harry stood up suddenly. “I have to go,” he said and ran out before anyone could say a word.

“What was that about?” Alexei asked, turning to the other men who looked just as confused as him.

“No idea. It was very odd,” Severus said.

“You don’t think he thinks we—or I—believe and feel the same way about Muggleborns as we used to?” Lucius said.

“Even if he did think that,” Alexei said, “he’s not Muggleborn.”

“No, but one of his ex-best friends is and his mother was,” Severus said. “He also knows Muggles and Muggleborns are what Voldemort hated and wanted to destroy.”

“Oh dear,” Alexei said, sighing deeply.

They had no more time to ponder as a hard knock sounded on the door.

“Expecting someone?” Alexei asked and the others shook their heads.

Whoever it was knocked again.

“We are looking for Mr. Lucius Malfoy,” a voice said. “Open the door.”

The three men frowned at each other. Lucius moved to stand behind the sofa as Severus went to open the door. Once it was open, three men charged into the rooms. Two of them were average, dressed in the uniform depicting an Auror of the Ministry. The third man, however, stood out. He was a bald, black man and very large, wearing purple robes and a purple cap.

“Kingsley?” Lucius said, gaining shocked stares from Severus and Alexei. They were even more shocked when the dark man gave Lucius a smile.

“Good to see you again, Lucius,” the Auror—Kingsley—said. “Unfortunately, my business here is not friendly.”

“I gathered as much,” Lucius said, glancing at the other two Aurors who were clearly awaiting instructions. He looked at Kingsley’s sad expression and immediately knew what was happening. He was now glad Harry had left. “So they’ve decided.”

Kingsley nodded. “I’m sorry, Lucius, but you’re under arrest for the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts and the murder of your son, Draco Malfoy.”

“What?” Severus and Alexei exclaimed together.

Lucius looked at them. “We knew this would happen. Alexei, just keep trying to find a way to break the case.”

“I will,” the vampire promised.

“Tell Harry I’m sorry, but I will be back. I haven’t left him,” he said, walking to the Aurors who grabbed his arms.

“I will,” Severus promised this time.

And then Lucius was disappearing into the Floo with the Aurors.

Harry stood at the railing at the edge of the Astronomy Tower. He was breathing hard from the run and he let the wind whip his hair around. He grabbed onto the railing and held tight, staring out at the Forbidden Forest and the horizon. His head was spinning and he tried to make sense of it all. He shook his head and forced his thoughts to slow down.

He wasn’t positive what had made him run. It seemed everything he used to feel towards Severus and Lucius had flooded back as Lucius talked about his father and the Muggleborn Minister. The way Lucius had been talking…he knew Lucius was talking about his father, but there was a time there wouldn’t have been much differentiation.

Once Lucius believed the same things and enforced them, taught them to Draco. And Draco…Draco had believed what he had been taught. All those times he called Hermione that name. Lucius used to say awful things about Muggles and even the Weasleys all because they liked and accepted Muggles.

Severus joined the Death Eaters and believed in them at some point. Voldemort and the Death Eaters hated anything Muggle. Severus must’ve had some kind of feelings towards Muggles.

Did feelings, thoughts, beliefs like that just go away? Did people stop believing in stuff they had been told to believe?

What if they did still believe those things? Could they really care about him? Could he handle knowing they believed all that? Could he accept it enough to still go with them, with Severus, his guardian?

Harry dropped his head and shook it again.

“Rebenok?”

Harry looked over his shoulder at the vampire. Alexei had a look of comfort but he also looked worried and sad about something. He turned slowly and leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms.

“What is wrong?” Alexei asked, coming closer.

Harry shrugged, but didn’t speak.

“Harry?” Alexei pushed.

Harry bit his lip and gazed at the concerned vampire. He was preoccupied by his confusion but he could also tell something was wrong. Alexei was troubled by something yet he was asking about Harry first. Whatever was wrong must not be too bad.

“Can people change?” Harry asked. “The things people believe, can they change that?”

Alexei sighed. “You’re talking about Lucius and the Malfoys’ beliefs about Muggles?”

Harry just looked at him.

“Do you think people can change, that Lucius and Severus can change?”

“I know they can. They have, towards me at least, but that doesn’t mean they don’t still believe these things,” Harry said, moving to sit against a wall.

“True,” Alexei said, joining Harry at the wall. “You have to remember something. Lucius and Severus and their parents grew up in vastly different worlds than yours. Things that are unacceptable now were acceptable then. It was the norm. Lucius’ father lived in a time where blood purity mattered and he grew up with this system. Then he did what all parents do. He passed on the family values and beliefs because they were what he believed. He lived in an age where there was no opposition to these things because that’s just how it was. The same is for Lucius and Draco. Lucius was raised on certain things and he wanted to raise his son the same way. The only difference in they were entering an age where things were changing, their family values and beliefs were being challenged, and they now had to make choices.”

Harry glanced down at his feet, contemplating.

“The beliefs of the human race change all the time,” Alexei added. “Trust me. I’ve seen decades of beliefs and they are always changing and evolving.”

Harry met his eyes. “Have you changed things you’ve believed?”

Alexei gave a small smile. “I’ve been alive a long time, rebenok. I've had to and I will have to continue.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “Do I get to know what’s going on now?”

The vampire blinked at him, shocked.

“I could tell something was wrong as soon as I saw you.”

Harry felt his heart skip and stomach jump as Alexei’s face became sad and grave. Alexei let out a deep breath before answering, making Harry tense.

“It’s Lucius,” Alexei said. “He’s been arrested and has been sent to Azkaban.”

Harry’s heart stopped as his world shattered.

“Harry, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Severus said, full of concern.

“I don’t care. I’m going,” Harry said and looked up at his guardian. “I have to…please.”

Severus hesitated, numerous doubts and other thoughts flitting through his mind. He glanced over at Alexei, a silent plea for help.

The vampire sighed. “It’s been over a month, ml6;y drug. We do not know how long this will take. The child needs to see him, you both do. I will be with you. He'll be safe.”

Severus turned back to Harry with his own sigh. “What about the Dementors? You do not react well to them.”

Harry pulled out a full bar of chocolate. “Fred and George have a stash.”

“I will also have my Patronus out,” Alexei said, “which you can also do,” he added to Severus.

“See? We’ll be okay,” Harry said. “Please let me do this? I need to see him. I miss him.”

Severus sighed again. “I know you do, child. Alright, we’ll take you to see him.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist. “Thank you.”

Severus hugged him back, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “I am so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

Harry stepped back. “It’s been okay. I’ve had the two of you to help. I’ve been writing him letters, too, hoping I’d get to see him and give them to him.”

Severus gave a sad smile and put a hand on the Gryffindor’s cheek. “An excellent idea. You know you are what is keeping him sane.”

Harry blushed, embarrassed.

Alexei walked over, also smiling. “It’s true. Thoughts of getting back to you and all of us are keeping him alive. Your letters will be wonderful for him.”

Harry gave an unsure smile, leaning into his guardian as Severus pulled him gently to his side.

“We all miss him and want him back,” Severus whispered. “We will bring him back.”

“I know,” Harry whispered back, relishing the kiss on his forehead.

“Time to go,” Alexei said. “We have to go to the Ministry first to get our escort. I will handle all of that.”

The others nodded.

“Actually,” Alexei said, obviously changing his mind, “Severus, you can Apparate there, yes?”

“I can.”

“Then you two do that and I will meet you there with our escort.”

“Very well,” Severus said. “We will see you there.”

Alexei nodded and stepped into the Floo, spinning away to the Ministry of Magic.

“You are ready?” Severus asked Harry who nodded just as he finished fastening his cloak. “Good. Down to Hogsmeade.”

They left the dungeons and the castle, making their way towards the village. Harry felt his stomach begin to flip nervously.

“Won’t Dumbledore be mad we’re leaving?” Harry asked even though that was the least of his concerns.

“Undoubtedly,” Severus said casually and Harry frowned. “However, there is absolutely nothing he can do or say. I am your guardian and I hold the right to take you from school whenever I wish. It is also the weekend so your education is not being interrupted.”

“Right,” Harry said, his mind already on other things.

“Are you sure you want to do this, child?” Severus asked gently, bringing them to a stop.

“I have to see him,” Harry said.

“I know,” Severus said, “but this is Azkaban. It is a very terrible place to be, especially for a child. I need you to be sure, absolutely sure.”

Harry hesitated before answering, wondering if he was sure. He knew Azkaban was awful and he knew it would be horrific for him with all the Dementors. No amount of chocolate would completely help. It was Lucius though. The man was like family, just like Severus and Alexei, even though he would never say anything. It had been a month since Lucius’ arrest, a month since he had last seen the man.

He had to go. He had to see Lucius, make sure he was at least kind of okay.

He looked at Severus resolutely. “I’m sure.”

“Alright,” Severus said. “Stay beside me at all times. If it is getting to be too much, tell me and we’ll leave. None of us want you risking your health.”

Harry nodded in agreement. Severus squeezed his shoulder and then led them the rest of the way. Harry grasped Severus’ arm tightly and tried to prepare for the new form of travel. The way Severus had described it, Harry knew he would not enjoy it…and he was right. It was the most sickening feeling, as though being pushed through a tiny straw. Every part of him was being squeezed and he felt sure he was about to suffocate.

And then it stopped. He stood, swaying, still grasping Severus’ arm and his eyes closed. His head was pounding, his ears ringing, his lungs burning, his chest aching, his stomach rolling, his legs shaking…

“Take a few breaths and steady yourself,” Severus said quietly. “It will pass.”

Harry felt fairly certain that was a lie, but he took a few slow, deep breaths anyway. After his tenth breath, everything finally seemed to be settling down. He finally opened his eyes and registered the damp, frigid air.

While it wasn’t quite warm back at Hogwarts, it was still much warmer than where they currently were. He pulled his cloak tight around him, unconsciously checking to make sure his letters were still in his pocket. The air here was damp, mist settling on his face and glasses constantly. It was also cold, as though it was constantly on the verge of storming.

He turned at Severus’ hand on his shoulder and he finally looked upon their destination. The appearance of the prison took his breath away and not in a good way. It was, quite frankly, terrifying. The pain, the sadness, the depression was suffocating even from their great distance. The hard, dark stone and waves crashing on jagged rocks added a chilling feel, metaphorically and literally. He shuddered as he saw a Dementor float by a window and as he realized it was only one of many. He couldn’t believe Lucius had been here for a month.

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked, drawing the boy’s attention.

“I’m okay,” Harry said even as he shivered again and pulled his cloak impossibly tighter.

Severus gave him a look and waved his wand. Harry watched the familiar stream of blue light leave his guardian’s wand. The light swirled before taking form and Harry stared at the glowing doe in wonder, deliberating its story again. It circled them, chasing away the cold and sadness, before coming to stand beside Severus. There was a pop and they turned to see Alexei and a middle-aged bearded man.

“Alright, moy drug?” Alexei said.

Severus nodded, unconsciously rubbing Harry’s back as his doe circled them again. “We shouldn’t linger much longer though,” he said.

Alexei looked over his shoulder at the man he had brought with him. The man was standing in a small boat, sliding oars into their holders.

“It doesn’t run on magic?” Harry asked, watching the man.

“Only enough to keep it on course,” Severus said.

“A precaution in a worst-case scenario,” Alexei added and Harry nodded. “Come on, time to go.”

They all stepped into the boat and settled. Harry watched as the doe walked over the rough water beside the boat. He understood why magic was used to keep the boat on track. The dark water was extremely rough, crashing against the boat and getting them damp. The boat wanted to veer off course or tip over, but the magic stopped it.

Harry shivered, but smiled up at Alexei when the man put his hands on Harry’s knees.

Finally, they hit the rocks surrounding the prison. Harry was helped out of the boat and he stared up at the tall, menacing building, dread filling him. Even Severus’ Patronus could no longer keep all the effects of the Dementors away. The emptiness was sinking in. Feelings of sadness, depression, hopelessness…an inability to feel happiness. All he could recall were terrible memories. He watched Ron’s body fall in front of his eyes repeatedly as he listened to his mother scream for her life.

Then it all began to fade. His eyes focused and he saw the glowing blue fox bouncing around Severus’ doe. Something was pressed into his hand. He looked down to find it was a piece of chocolate and he instantly put it in his mouth. Warmth slowly spread through his body. The warmth spread further and cleared the dark fog from his mind as a glowing lynx joined the other Patronuses.

“Harry, talk to me!”

Harry blinked and looked away from the doe, fox, and lynx, and at Severus. His guardian’s face was full of worry.

“Sorry,” Harry said, finally coming back to himself. “I’m okay now, really.”

“You are absolutely sure?” Severus said, searching the green eyes.

Harry nodded. “I’m sure, I promise. I’m okay.”

Severus searched some more before squeezing Harry’s shoulder and resting his hand on the child’s neck. He turned and inclined his head, bringing Harry’s attention to the kind-looking bald black man standing in the prison’s entrance. The man was dressed in purple robes and had an official looking pin on his chest.

“Kingsley,” Alexei said, stepping forward and shaking the man’s hand. “Excellent to see you, moy drug.”

“And you,” the man—Kingsley—said with a smile. “Are you all ready? I’m afraid the best I could get you was twenty minutes.”

Severus glanced at Harry’s disappointed face and sighed. “We’ll take what we can get.”

Kingsley bowed his head. “Follow me. Do not go near any of the cells. The most dangerous prisoners are kept on another floor but that doesn’t mean the others aren’t also dangerous. Remember what Dementors do to a person. As for the Dementors, they have been quarantined from this area until we leave but still keep your Patronuses. Speak to no one else and go nowhere alone.”

The others nodded in understanding and continued to follow the man. Severus kept his arm around Harry’s shoulders and Alexei followed close behind them. Eventually they turned a corner and were stopped in front of a cell.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Kingsley said. “You have visitors.”

Harry watched the man press his palm to the patch of iron on the door where a keyhole should be. The iron glowed yellow and they all heard a quiet click. Kingsley pulled the door of bars open and gestured for them to enter. Harry glanced at Severus and Alexei, receiving nods from both of them.

He turned to the dark cell. It was the middle of the day yet it was so dark at Azkaban that it seemed perpetually night. He took a few steps, straining to see anything.

“Harry?” a quiet, hoarse voice said from the far corner by the tiny window.

Harry turned his head in that direction, taking a few more small steps. “Lucius?”

He spotted an outline move in the dark. He jumped when a torch was suddenly lit behind him. He looked back and found Kingsley giving an apologetic look. Steadying his heart, he turned to see Lucius again for the first time in a month.

His heart ached. Usually so proper, pristine, confident, put together…

Lucius looked nothing like that anymore. the long hair was limp and stringy, hanging over his face messily. It was so dirty it hardly looked like its old bleach blonde. Gone were the expensive and impressive robes. Now he wore what essentially resembled a burlap sack made into a massive shirt and pants. He had no shoes, showing how dirty his feet were and also showing multiple small, healing cuts. His face was the worst, also immensely dirty, almost making him unidentifiable. It was also so thin and sunken, no more than grey skin pulled over bone. His grey eyes looked huge though they were dull, sad, broken, unfocused.

However, as soon as those eyes spotted Harry, Harry saw them change. The fogginess disappeared and a little bit of light returned.

“Harry,” Lucius said again, his thin mouth forming a ghost of a smile.

Harry choked on a sob and rushed forward. He threw his arms around Lucius’ neck and held tight, feeling the man’s returning embrace though it was weaker.

“Lucius,” Severus said, he and Alexei coming into the cell now as well.

“I can’t believe you all came here,” Lucius said, still holding Harry. “Thank you.”

The two men smiled.

“How are you?” Alexei asked and Lucius sighed.

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” he said. “I’m not okay, but I’m managing, I suppose.”

Alexei nodded. “I’ve got my first meeting with the Wizengamot next week. It will probably still be a while, however.”

“I know,” Lucius said. “I’ll manage.”

Harry eventually pulled away, sitting on the rough stone floor beside Lucius. “I’ve got letters for you. Nothing’s really been happening, but I still wrote about stuff.”

Lucius smiled, taking the stack of about two dozen letters with thin fingers. He pulled Harry close again in appreciation. Harry relished being with Lucius again only to have Kingsley tell them it was time to leave. The Dementors were coming back around.

“Just hang tight, moy drug,” Alexei said, smiling sadly as Harry and Lucius hugged tightly.

“Here.” Harry pulled away again and pressed his huge bar of chocolate into Lucius’ hand. “Maybe it’ll help a little. Just don’t let anyone see.”

“I will be alright, my child,” Lucius said, brushing back Harry’s hair. “I will be home with you before you know it.”

Harry nodded sadly, standing after hugging the man once again. With goodbyes said, they all finally left the prison.

“Thanks,” Harry said, finishing off his History of Magic essay. He and Alexei were up in the Astronomy Tower, the vampire helping him with his paper on the troll wars of the 1960s. It was far more interesting to learn about such things from Alexei rather than Binns. Now they had finished, Alexei bid goodbye to go work on Lucius’ case for the rest of the evening and prepare for his meeting the next day.

Harry put his work aside with a sigh, looking out at the darkening landscape. He couldn’t stop thinking about Lucius. He just wanted the man back. It was bad enough he could never have Ron back.

“Hey, Potter,” a voice interrupted. “Hiding away, are you?”

Harry just raised an eyebrow at Seamus and the other Gryffindors. There were only three others but he knew they were ones on the ‘hate Harry Potter’ team. “What would I be hiding from?”

“Everyone,” Seamus spat. “Everyone knows you visited Malfoy in Azkaban and you spend all your time with Snape and the vampire.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose further as he slowly got to his feet. “You hate vampires now too?”

“I’ve read enough and heard enough stories,” Seamus said.

“Stories,” Harry echoed. “Right.”

“Seems you’re quite friendly with the Slytherin population.”

Harry scoffed. “I wouldn’t say that exactly, but so what if I am?”

“They’re Slytherins. You’re making friends with Snape and Malfoy, of all people. Pure evil and you’re getting cozy. What next, go dark?”

Harry’s face hardened. “Watch it, Seamus. Just walk away. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“No, but there are some that aren’t here to fight back anymore,” Seamus sneered and Harry winced at the implications of Ron.

“Walk away, Seamus,” he said again.

“Or what?” Seamus said. “Have some snakes to call for help?”

Harry said nothing. He had no way to get help and he wasn’t sure how he would hold up against four attackers. Even reading wouldn’t help because there would be too much at once. It would be impossible.

There was no more time to think as he dodged a Petrification Charm from Seamus and he pulled his wand. Since they were only fourth years, none of them had a large spell inventory. They all cycled between Stunning, Petrification, and Disarming. They probably just wanted Harry defenseless so they could turn the fight Muggle.

He found himself hit with three Disarming Charms and his wand went flying through the air and fell down. He knew he was in trouble, backing up until he bumped a wall. He could do nothing as the Stunning Spell came his way. He fell into darkness, knowing the attack wasn’t done.

“You believe me, don’t you, about Crouch Jr.?” Harry asked, watching the rain.

“Of course I do,” Ron said quickly. “I can’t tell you anything, mate.”

“I know,” Harry said. “Just making sure someone believes me.”

“They all do: Lucius, Severus, Alexei. It’s only because of Lucius’ arrest that Alexei hasn’t been able to look into Crouch Jr.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, nodding. “I’d rather he worry about that than Crouch Jr. anyway.”

Ron hummed.

“I miss you,” Harry said suddenly.

Ron turned his head to look at Harry. “I know, I miss you too.”

“Will these…meetings really end at some point?”

Ron nodded. “I can’t stay longer than I’m allowed. You are my job and I can only leave when it’s done, I have to leave when it’s done.”

“I don’t want them to end, you to leave,” Harry said. “I don’t want to keep being alone. I don’t want to do it all without you anymore. It’s too hard.”

“You’re not alone,” Ron said. “You can have so much with Alexei, Lucius, and Severus if you only gave them a real chance.”

“I’m trying. I do care about them and I know they care about me,” Harry said, his tone becoming almost frustrated as he continued, “but so did Sirius and Hermione. They both ccared about me and they both left. There’s nothing stopping Severus, Lucius, or Alexei from doing the exact same thing.”

“They won’t,” Ron reassured and Harry turned a pained look on him.

“They could.”

Ron just looked at him sadly, at a loss for what he could say to make Harry believe him and trust in the three men.

Thunder rumbled loudly, shaking the ground beneath them.

Harry stirred, sighing quietly. He really wanted to keep sleeping but his body clearly had other ideas. Mainly, his body wanted to make him aware of his pain. He groaned in pain as he woke up more and more. He could hear voices and knew Severus and Alexei were there. There was concern in the men’s voices, but not extreme concern.

He took a deep breath, though it hurt his chest, and he forced his eyes open. He expected it to be blindingly bright like always, but found, instead, that it was dark and quiet. He rolled his head on the pillow and found Severus and Alexei sitting next to each other by his bed. Severus was just saying something so it was the vampire that noticed he was awake first.

“Welcome back, rebenok.”

Severus turned and relief flooded his face. “How are you feeling, child?”

Harry hummed. “I haven’t done a full inventory yet. I’m sore, very sore, and tired.”

Severus nodded. “Unfortunately, you cannot have another Pain Reliever for another hour. You weren’t meant to wake up yet.”

Harry gave a small grin. “When do I ever do as I’m told?”

“Right you are, my child,” Severus said, chuckling.

“Do you remember what happened?” Alexei asked and Harry gave a nod.

“Seamus and some other Gryffindors. They cornered me in the Astronomy Tower and attacked me,” Harry said. “Were you able to find my wand? They had disarmed me and it fell down below.”

“Your wand was found,” Severus said. “We were not the ones to find you, however. The Weasley twins found you and brought you to the infirmary.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said. “I was supposed to go flying with them when I finished my homework. They must’ve come looking when I didn’t show up.”

Severus and Alexei nodded.

“It does not seem safe for you in the Tower anymore,” Severus said. “I would like you to come stay in my rooms.”

Harry shook his head. “That’ll make things worse. They’d really have a reason then. I’ll be okay in the Tower, really.”

“Are you sure, rebenok? You are very injured.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It’ll be better to stay in the Tower. Besides, no one is supposed to know you’re my guardian in case it gets back to Voldemort.”

Severus sighed. “I suppose you are correct.”

“I’ll be okay,” Harry said, shifting to get more comfortable.

“And if something should happen?” Severus asked, still concerned.

Here Alexei leaned forward to interject, holding something out. He opened his hand to reveal a small black stone with a single white line down the middle. Harry looked at it curiously. “Take this and keep it in your pocket. I have another and they’re connected. If you become endangered, my stone will grow warm and we can come help.”

Harry smiled at the vampire, clutching the stone in his fist.

Harry stopped his trek to Defence when he spotted Severus and Alexei at the end of an off-branching corridor. He frowned at the almost frantic body language and distressed expressions of the two men. He wished he could hear what they were saying. There was obviously something going on. He stared, trying to figure it out. He was startled when both men turned to look at him suddenly. He stared back with wide eyes.

“To class, Mr. Potter,” Severus said.

“Yes, sir,” Harry said and hurried up the next staircase. He turned down the corridor that took him to the Defence class and walked in, taking his seat. No one else was there yet so he pulled out his book to read. He did his best to note the spells he thought could be useful, particularly for whatever the Third Task would be. Like the First Task, they had been told nothing about the Final Task. They were only told that it would test everything about them. It would test their magical abilities, physical strength, and mental strength.

Whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t ready for it.

He paused in his reading, feeling a strange prickling on the back of his neck. Someone had come into the room and was standing at the back. He slowly sat up straight and put a hand surreptitiously on his wand.

Rather than relax, he tensed more when he heard the familiar thump that was part of Moody’s gait. He kept his hand on his wand as he looked up at Moody.

“Potter,” the man growled, his tongue poking out.

“Professor,” he said tightly.

“Bit early.” Harry didn’t respond. He watched Moody amble to the front of the room and lean against the teacher’s desk. “Studying up for the task?”

Harry frowned in slight confusion.

Moody gave a strange side smirk. “Third Task, boy. You gotta be ready.”

“Not quite sure what I need to be ready for,” Harry finally spoke.

“Everything,” Moody growled just as the bell rang and students began to flood into the room.

Harry only half listened to the lesson, his stomach twisting with unexplainable anxiety.

“Something’s wrong,” Harry said to Fred and George. They were sitting in his dorm in the Tower. The other boys from his dorm were outside at the Quidditch Pitch. He was sitting on his bed while the twins lounged on Ron’s forever empty bed. Not much of Ron was left there as his belongings had been sent back to the Burrow after his death. All that remained was a picture on the end table of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and Ron’s Chudley Cannons blanket on the bed.

Everything else was gone, just like Ron.

“Isn’t there always?” Fred grumbled.

While the twins were still jokesters and pranksters, they were nothing like they had been before Ron’s murder.

“What specifically?” George asked.

“Alexei and Severus seemed worried when I saw them earlier. Something is definitely going on,” Harry said. “Then Moody, as usual.”

“Alexei hasn’t had time to look into Crouch Jr.?” George said and Harry shook his head.

“Too busy with Lucius’ case,” Harry said and sighed. “I just want this year to be over already. I’m done with all of this.”

The twins just nodded.

An envelope popped into existence then, falling on Harry’s bed in front of him. The three of them frowned. Nothing was written on the envelope. Harry glanced at the twins, the both of them taking out their wands. They waved over the envelope, doing various spells and scans. Eventually they stopped and shrugged.

“It seems to be safe,” Fred said, but they both kept their wands out.

Harry gingerly picked up the letter, nervous that it could be harmful. He tore it open and pulled out the single piece of parchment. It only had two short sentences on it.

We have everything figured out. We’re coming for you.

S&R

Harry handed it to the twins.

“Any idea what it means?” George asked and Harry shook his head.

“Not a clue.”

The room was then lit up with a bright blue as a Patronus materialized in front of them. Harry recognized the fox immediately.

“It’s Alexei’s,” Harry told Fred and George.

“Harry, come to the headmaster’s office immediately,” Alexei’s voice said and the Patronus disappeared.

Harry’s stomach twisted. Something was seriously wrong.

“We’ll come with you,” Fred said as George nodded in agreement.

The three Gryffindors hurried up to Dumbledore’s office. Harry came to a stop with the twins behind him as they entered the room. He scanned, taking in everyone that was there and trying to figure out what was happening.

Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, his face grave. Alexei was just beside the doorway. Severus was on one end of Dumbledore’s desk with what looked like two Ministry officials behind him. Sirius and Lupin were standing near the window. Harry couldn’t help but notice their smug expressions. He finally walked slowly the rest of the way into the room, letting the twins in as well.

“Harry,” Sirius said, stepping closer.

Harry ignored his godfather, looking, instead, between Severus and Alexei.

“Severus is being arrested,” Alexei said quietly and Harry’s heart came to a painful stop.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said.

“It would seem,” Dumbledore interjected, “that the Ministry received an anonymous letter regarding details of Narcissa Malfoy’s death.”

“Meaning?” Harry asked even though he was sure he knew.

“The anonymous person is implying Severus killed Narcissa,” Alexei explained.

“Are you insane?” Harry shouted angrily, making sure to cast a hard glare at Sirius and Lupin. Their smug looks faltered a little at his glare. He turned to his guardian. “Are you going to Azkaban too?”

Severus shook his head. “I am only being arrested under suspicion. If, after the investigation, I am found guilty, I will then go to Azkaban. Until the investigation is over, I will be in a holding cell at the Ministry.”

Harry nodded, trying to hold back anger and tears. Severus sighed and gestured Harry closer, kneeling in front of the child.

“Everything will be alright,” Severus said. “We know there’s nothing for them to find.”

“But you’re leaving,” Harry said. “I’m going to be here alone.”

“You still have Alexei here. He is not leaving. He’s going to stay close by to make sure you are safe. I won’t be away for long.”

Harry nodded again, trying to understand and accept it all.

“We’re here too, kid,” Sirius spoke up and Harry glared at him again.

“Then leave,” Harry growled, ignoring the shocked look on Sirius’ face. “What if something happens?” he said to Severus.

“You have Alexei here,” Severus said again. “You also have the twins. Stay close to them.”

Harry nodded. “I will.”

Severus rested a hand on Harry’s cheek. “I will come back.”

“I know.”

Severus stood then and walked out of the office with the two Ministry people. The twins walked over to Harry, clasping his shoulders in comfort.

“You can’t do anything?” Harry asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed and sat in his chair. “Unfortunately, there was nothing. I can, however, help provide the proof to clear Severus.”

“Good,” Harry said quietly. “Thanks,” he added and Dumbledore inclined his head in response.

“Perhaps you should return to the Tower with the twins,” Alexei suggested. “I’ll make sure I clear Severus’ case as soon as possible.”

“What about Lucius?” Harry asked, ignoring the very loud and clear choking noise coming from Sirius behind him.

“I think I am actually close on his case as well,” Alexei said and Harry gave a small smile. “I will bring them home.”

“I know,” Harry said again. “I’ll see you later. I’ll come down after dinner.”

The vampire smiled. “Sounds good to me, rebenok.”

Harry and the twins left the office, slowly wandering back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You okay?” Fred asked and Harry nodded. 

“I’m okay. Alexei will help and get the case thrown out.”

“Yeah, the professor will be back in no time,” George said encouragingly.

“Back to terrorize the Hogwarts population,” Fred added and Harry laughed. It was still true. Even though he now saw Severus differently, the man still terrified ninety-five percent of the student body.

“Harry!”

The three of them stopped and turned at the shout. Sirius and Lupin were rushing towards them. Harry frowned to himself. What if Sirius was seen? He was still wanted by the Ministry.

“Someone might see you,” he said coolly.

Sirius grinned smugly. “Been using a Disillusionment Charm. I essentially blend into the surroundings and no one can see me. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Sure,” Harry said shortly before turning to keep walking.

“Hey, wait, kid,” Sirius said, reaching out and grabbing Harry’s arm. Harry tensed and immediately pulled his arm away, an involuntary reaction to the unexpected touch. Sirius’ eyebrows pulled together in apparent confusion. “What’s going on? I thought we could hang out now the bat’s gone.”

Harry’s own eyebrows furrowed but in anger as he glowered at his godfather. “I know you sent that ‘anonymous’ letter and I want nothing to do with you,” he glanced at Lupin and added, “Either of you.”

“Harry, you don’t have to act like this anymore. You’re free,” Sirius said, trying to move closer only to have Harry move back and away.

“Free of what exactly?” Harry hissed. “Someone who was helping me? Someone who cares about me?”

Sirius scoffed. “All a load of bull, kid. He never cared. He doesn’t care about anyone. He can’t, he doesn’t feel anything.”

Harry hardened. “Stay away from me,” he spat.

“Harry!” Sirius grabbed him again and he jerked away violently.

“Don’t touch me,” he said coldly.

“What is wrong with you?” Sirius said almost angrily.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You got my guardian arrested. You can’t even try and let me be happy because of your bigotry and stupid hatred that has no reasoning behind it,” Harry snapped.

“He’s evil, Harry, they all are and we’re going to fix whatever they’ve done to you,” Sirius said.

“There’s nothing to fix,” Harry said. “Now leave me alone.”

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Sirius growled, grabbing and yanking Harry’s arm again.

This time when Harry pulled away, he drew his wand and so did the twins. Sirius stared in shock. “I said don’t touch me.”

With a final glare, Harry and the twins turned and walked away.

Harry sat curled up in his chair working, once again, on his Potions project. Alexei was on the sofa, also working on something for Lucius’ case. It was silent except for their quills and the fire. Harry tapped his page, distracted by everything and completely lost as to what to do on his assignment.

“Rebenok?”

Harry looked up at the vampire. “I’m okay.”

Alexei gave a small lopsided smile and put his work aside. “I don’t think you are,” Harry opened his mouth to argue, “but that’s alright.”

Harry sighed and laid his quill down, still caught between his fingers.

“What is it?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing…everything.” He sighed again. “I don’t know. Sirius, he…I just can’t believe what he did. I don’t understand. I thought he would be at least a little bit happy for me. I know he hates Severus but Severus is helping me the way Sirius can’t right now. It’s like he doesn’t want me happy or to have someone taking care of me. He’s not who I thought he was.”

“Some people can’t move past their personal barriers and have selfish reasons behind what they do,” Alexei said. “You can’t let him stop you from being happy. He can’t separate you and Severus.”

“I think he’s going to try,” Harry said quietly.

“But it will only work if you let it,” Alexei said firmly, holding the boy’s gaze.

The sudden pounding on the door made Harry jump and Alexei seethed silently to himself. Everything that was happening, particularly with that godfather of Harry’s, was undoing much of the progress they had all made. Harry was jumpy, silent, and far more doubtful regarding anything anyone said. It was also obvious he was falling back to how he had been emotionally after the death of Ron, if what Severus had told him was accurate.

“It’s okay, rebenok,” Alexei said and stood to answer the door. He instantly glared once the door was open. “Leave,” he demanded shortly.

Sirius just glared back. “I want to see Harry.”

“Not on your life,” Alexei hissed.

“You can’t stop me,” Sirius growled. “He’s my godson.”

“He’s my temporary ward until his legal guardian can return to his role,” Alexei said. “I actually hold more power in this situation than you do.”

From inside the room, Harry looked at Alexei in surprise. He didn’t know any of that.

“You can’t keep him from me,” Sirius said angrily. “I will break this guardianship and protect Harry. He will never see any of you ever again. I will take him out of this school if I have to.”

Alexei’s eyes flashed and he bared his teeth menacingly. Sirius took a physical step back. “I’d like to see you try,” and he slammed the door shut, locking it. He turned to look at Harry who had sunk despondently into the chair. The light from the fire also glinted off the tears trailing down the child’s face.

“Oh, rebenok,” he whispered, sighing sadly.

Almost a week had passed since Severus’ arrest. Harry had spent all that time in classes and in Severus’ rooms with Alexei. The entire time was also spent dodging Sirius and Lupin who were determined to talk to him. He refused, not wanting to hear them say he was being brainwashed or poisoned or whatever. He was sick of hearing how the three most important people in his life were evil, using him, and didn’t really care about him. He had enough stupid doubts without Sirius and Lupin making them worse.

He knew how he felt about Severus, Lucius, and Alexei. He also knew how they said they felt about him but he couldn’t stop himself from questioning it all. He had never had anyone, how could he now have three people? That little voice just wouldn’t let him accept it and now, with Sirius and Lupin, that little voice was slowly getting louder.

He was in Severus’ rooms and about to head to the library. He shoved his things in his bag and lifted it onto his shoulder as Alexei walked over.

Harry stared at him curiously and Alexei frowned. “What is it?” the vampire asked.

“Last week, when Sirius came here, you told him you’re my temporary guardian until Severus comes back,” Harry said.

Alexei nodded. “I did.”

“Is that true?”

Alexei smiled. “It is. It’s a small clause we wrote into the guardianship. If, for any reason, Severus cannot act as your guardian, it is temporarily transferred to Lucius. If neither of them can act as your guardian, it is temporarily transferred to me. We wanted to ensure you would always be with one of us and safe.”

Harry gave a small smile, unsure what to say.

“Now,” Alexei said, changing the subject, “where are you off to?”

“Library,” Harry said. “Trying to figure out this Potions project.”

“Have you asked Severus for help?”

Harry shook his head. “It feels like cheating. He’s my guardian. It’s like favouritism.”

“You can still get his help, child,” Alexei said. “He knows how to remain professional. Besides, as both your guardian and professor, he is meant to help you if you are struggling. He’ll give you help, not the answer.”

Harry bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

Alexei nodded. “Of course. Ask for help when he comes home.”

“Okay, maybe I will,” Harry said.

Alexei gave a quiet sigh. “You’re not going alone, are you?”

“No, I’m going with the twins. I’m meeting them in the Entrance Hall.”

“Good,” Alexei said. “As you know, I am gone for a while today so make sure you stay with the twins.” 

Harry nodded. Today was the day Alexei and Dumbledore were bringing the release papers for Severus. Alexei also had his final meeting with the Wizengamot about Lucius. Today would determine if Lucius was ever coming home.

“Do you think we’re going to win?” Harry asked.

“I know we will,” Alexei said confidently. “I was only two votes away last time and with everything I have for today, there’s no way they’ll say no.”

Harry smiled, hoping the vampire was right.

“Alright, I have to go,” Alexei said. “You’ll stay with the twins and you have your pendant?”

Harry nodded. “I will and I do.”

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Good luck.”

Alexei smiled back as he disappeared through the Floo. Harry left the rooms and started for the Entrance Hall. He wound his way through the maze of corridors that was the dungeons. He had just turned the last corner to get to the stairs that would bring him out of the dungeons when he was grabbed from behind. Dragged roughly, he soon found himself in a random, empty classroom.

He immediately pulled his wand, spinning to find his attackers. He was shocked when he found himself looking at Sirius and Lupin. He dropped his arm as his face creased with confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said.

“Helping you, kid,” Sirius said.

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Harry, you can talk to us and trust us,” Lupin said. “We only want to help and get you away from these people.”

Harry looked between Sirius and Lupin with utter confusion.

“Harry, it’s okay now,” Sirius said, stepping closer and grasping Harry’s shoulders. “You’re safe.”

Harry pushed Sirius’ hands off. “Safe from what exactly?”

“Those snakes and the vampire,” Sirius said.

“You mean the ones taking care of me?” Harry said, getting angry.

“We know that’s what you think but that’s just because of the spell or potion, or whatever they’ve done to you,” Lupin said. “We’re going to find out what they’ve done and break it.”

“Then you can forget all about them,” Sirius said.

Harry stared at them in angry disbelief. “Not a bloody chance.” He turned back to the door and tried to open it. It was locked. He tried using Alohomora but it remained shut. “Let me out.”

“I’m sorry, kid, but we can’t do that,” Sirius said and Harry began to turn again. He didn’t get far before he was hit with his godfather’s Stunner and everything went dark.

Harry groaned as he woke and began to panic even before he opened his eyes as he realized he was restrained. His eyes flew open. He was sat in a chair from one of the desks, his arms bound to the armrests and his ankles to the chair legs. He looked up and around, instantly spotting Sirius and Lupin to his left at a desk that had several vials on it. They were all filled with different coloured liquids.

“What are you doing?” Harry said, his heart pounding with anxiety.

“We’re just trying to help you,” Lupin said as they turned from the desk.

“But there’s nothing wrong,” Harry said.

Sirius came over then, holding a vial of dark green liquid. Harry tensed as he stared at it.

“Just stay calm. It’ll all be over soon. We just have to find the right counter,” Sirius said and approached Harry with the potion.

He leaned back as far as he could. “What is that? What will it do to me?”

“Don’t worry,” Lupin said. “None of these will harm you if they are not the right counter.”

Harry continued to stare fearfully. He didn’t believe that for a second.

“Open your mouth,” Sirius said but Harry shook his head. Sirius and Lupin both grabbed him and pried his mouth open, quickly pouring the unknown potion down his throat.

“You’re insane!” Harry yelled. “You’ll kill me!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Sirius said. “Now, how do you feel?”

Harry glared and was about to say something scathing when a jolt of excruciating pain ran through his chest. He screamed in pain, pulling viciously against his restraints.

“What…did you do?” he breathed.

“You’ll be okay, it’ll pass,” Sirius said.

“That wasn’t the right one,” Lupin said. “Get the next one.”

“Get away from me,” Harry snapped, crying out again as more pain tore through him.

Despite his pain, the process was repeated. They forced his mouth open and forced him to swallow the next potion. His reaction to this one wasn’t any better. His skin felt like it was slowly being burned. He screamed again and tears began to fall.

“Please stop,” he whispered.

Sirius looked at him sadly. “We can’t, not until we fix whatever Snape did to you. We will get you out of the guardianship and away from him. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“He doesn’t,” Harry sobbed. “He loves me.”

“He can’t,” Sirius said, just before making him take another potion.

Harry waited for more pain, but none came. He looked at Sirius and Lupin in question.

“You’re crying blood, but don’t worry, it’ll stop,” Lupin said casually.

Harry let out another sob and pulled at his bonds again. He was terrified. They could kill him with all these potions. There was no one to help him.

Another potion. He cried out again as it caused several gashes to appear on his arms and thighs.

And it kept going. For how long, Harry had no idea. There were so many potions and he knew they were killing him. He felt so much pain. He felt all the gashes; he felt like he was burning; he felt like there were little knives in his bloodstream; he felt like his heart would explode; he felt like his insides were melting; he felt like his skull was fracturing into tiny pieces; he felt like each bone was made of jagged ice.

And then the spells started.

More wounds, voices in his head, Ron’s dead body in his vision, fear encasing his heart, his lungs unable to fully expand, his ears ringing…

He had no idea what was happening anymore. He didn’t know Alexei had felt the pendant getting hot, telling him Harry was in trouble. He didn’t know Alexei had freed Severus. He didn’t know Alexei had rushed back to Hogwarts and found him. He didn’t know Alexei had stopped Sirius and Lupin, and untied him. He didn’t know Alexei held him on the floor in his lap.

He only knew one thing.

“I want to die.”

Harry let out a deep breath as he slowly opened his eyes. Though it was blurry without his glasses, he could still immediately tell that he was not in the Hospital Wing. He looked around the best he could, trying to identify the place. It took some time but he soon realized he was in Severus’ guestroom.

He sighed again and shut his eyes. His body throbbed, reminding him instantly what had happened. Tears sprung to his eyes.

“Child?”

He opened his eyes again, looking at Severus through the tears.

“I am so sorry,” Severus said quietly and Harry’s tears overflowed. He squeezed the hand that grasped his. “How are you feeling physically? Do you need anything?”

Harry shook his head.

“Alright,” Severus said, nodding. “All the damage has been reversed. You’ll be okay.”

Harry sniffed, trying to stall the tears for just a moment. “You...you’re here,” he whispered.

Severus gave Harry’s hand another squeeze. “I am. Alexei got me out.”

“How...how long?”

Severus sighed. “It’s been a week and a half.”

More tears fell.

“You’ll be okay,” Severus repeated.

Harry shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t want to be.”

“Harry…”

“I can’t,” Harry whispered. “I can’t anymore. I can’t, I can’t.” He sobbed and Severus’ heart shattered for his broken ward.

Severus sat on the sofa, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands. “They’ve destroyed him, Alexei.”

“Not for good,” the vampire said, sipping at his glass. “We just have to work with him again.”

Severus looked at him brokenly. “He doesn’t want to live anymore.”

“Then we give him a reason to want to,” Alexei said. “We be there. We help him and take care of him. We do exactly what we were doing before all of this.”

“I just can’t believe this happened, that they would do that to Harry,” Severus said. “They were so close to killing him.”

Alexei nodded sadly, remembering how the child had looked when he found him.

“We will help him,” Alexei said again.

Severus sighed. “I wish Lucius was here.”

“Soon,” Alexei said. “We can use that as incentive for Harry.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted them and Severus stood to answer it. He let the Weasley twins in and shut the door behind them.

“We were hoping we could see Harry now,” Fred said quietly. He and George had been dropping by every other day for updates on Harry and hoping they could see their friend. They felt guilty, knowing they should have met Harry at Severus’ rooms that day. They had promised to always be with him when Alexei wasn’t or couldn’t be. They had failed.

“He’s awake finally,” Severus said, “so you can see him. He’s very unstable right now, though, so tread carefully.”

“We will.” The twins nodded and headed into Harry’s room.

“His friends will help as well,” Alexei said as Severus sat back down. “We will get him through this.”

“I hope so,” Severus said. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“None of us do.”

Harry sat curled up on the new window seat in his room, staring out the newly enchanted window. It allowed him to see outside at the grounds and the Quidditch Pitch. He gazed out, not really seeing the few people that were soaring around the Pitch. He couldn’t seem to find joy in anything anymore. it was just like after Ron died.

Nothing was okay anymore. He couldn’t forget what Sirius had done to him. How could his own godfather do that? Sirius had forced him to take so many potions that even Severus hadn’t been able to identify them all. Sirius had tortured him and would have continued had Alexei not found them. Sirius was supposed to care about him so why had he hurt him? It was just like the Dursleys. They should’ve cared about him too and they had hurt him. Everyone who was supposed to care about him and be his family hurt him. Sirius had hurt him so he wouldn’t be a family with Severus, Lucius, and Alexei.

He wasn’t meant to have a family. He understood now.

He let his head rest against the window. If he wasn’t meant to have a family and be happy, what was the point? He was done. He didn’t want to try anymore. He wanted to be with Ron and leave it all behind.

Family and happiness didn’t exist, at least not for him.

He didn’t react when the door opened and Severus walked in. The man sat on the bed. “How are you feeling today?” he asked.

“Fine,” Harry said shortly, never moving from his position against the window.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.” It was a lie. His arms were burning where a potion had made his skin bubble. He didn’t care. He was used to pain and obviously deserved it for reasons unknown to him.

“Harry, please, look at me,” Severus said quietly and he heard the sadness in the man’s voice. He didn’t want Severus to be sad, so he turned his head and looked at his guardian. Severus sighed at the dull, green eyes. “Are you really not in pain?”

“A little,” Harry admitted in a mumble. “My arms.”

“The burns?”

Harry nodded and watched Severus summon a potion and a salve. He tensed at the sight of a potion and Severus gave him sad look.

“I promise this potion is safe,” Severus said. “It’s just a Pain Reliever. You have taken them many times before.”

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded, pushing his fear aside. Severus was right. He knew Pain Relievers. He had lost count how many he had taken. He knew how they looked and smelled and tasted. All those things matched up as he slowly swallowed the potion and he felt his pain disappear almost instantly.

“I want to put this salve on the burns,” Severus said, holding the container up. “It will help them heal faster and prevent scarring.”

Harry nodded. Even though he agreed, was watching, and Severus moved slow, he still flinched and pulled his arm away at Severus’ first touch.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s alright, child. Try again,” Severus said and gently took hold of the boy’s arm again. Harry still flinched but he didn’t pull away. He relaxed only slightly as Severus rubbed the salve into his skin. As soon as it was done, Harry took his arms back and tucked them under the blanket.

“Anything to eat?” Harry asked, actually feeling quite hungry all of a sudden.

“I’ll make you something,” Severus said, getting to his feet. “Anything specific?”

Harry just shook his head and returned to staring out the window.

“I’ll be right back.” Severus left the room and headed into the kitchen. Once there he placed his hands on the countertop and hung his head. How could they help Harry? He was absolutely shattered.

“We’ll figure it out, moy drug,” Alexei said, standing in the kitchen doorway and leaning against the frame.

“I don’t know if we can,” Severus whispered. “I think he may be gone.”

“Never,” Alexei said. “He’s afraid. We just have to show him there is nothing to be afraid of. We have to prove to him that we won’t hurt him like his godfather and relatives.”

Severus sighed sadly. “I want him to be okay again, to be like he was. He was so much better and now this happened.”

“I know,” Alexei said, “but we can get him there again. If we keep showing him we care, he’ll believe it eventually.”

Severus just nodded as he finished making a sandwich for the child. He wasn’t sure if he really believed Alexei. Harry seemed beyond their reach. He finished the sandwich and brought it back to Harry.

“Chicken salad,” Severus said, handing him the plate. “Your favourite.”

“Thanks,” Harry said dully. He took a bite. It was tasty but he still couldn’t get any enjoyment out of it. He was only eating because he knew he had to and his body was telling him to.

“Do you want anything else?” Severus asked.

“No.”

Severus sighed again. “Very well. Call if you need anything. Try to nap. It will help the healing process.”

“Okay.”

With another heartbroken look at the boy, he left the room and sat on the sofa. He couldn’t put into words how much he hated Black and Lupin. How could they have done what they did to Harry? He knew Black hated him—the feeling was mutual—but to hurt his own godson to such an extent simply because Harry was interacting with Severus?

He groaned quietly and rubbed his arm where the Dark Mark was. It was throbbing again and had been consistently for the past several days. He Mark itself was far darker as well and the implications were making his stomach twist with anxiety. He knew what it all meant and he had always hoped this day would never come.

“Is it hurting again?”

Severus looked up at Alexei and nodded once, turning his gaze back to the coffee table. He really wasn’t looking at anything, but staring blankly.

“Do you need a potion?”

“No.” Severus shook his head. “They don’t work on the Mark anyway.”

Alexei nodded and sat on the other end of the sofa.

“What has happened to Black and Lupin?” Severus eventually asked.

“Dumbledore had them admitted to St. Mungo’s,” Alexei said. “They are running tests to determine their mental stability.”

“Good,” Severus said and sighed quietly.

“It’ll be okay,” Alexei said reassuringly.

Severus met the vampire’s eyes sadly. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

Harry stood at the edge of their protective circle, staring up at the black sky. If possible, the sky was even darker and it was pouring even harder. Lightning struck every few seconds and thunder shook the ground.

“Harry?” Ron said behind him.

“I’m not leaving this time,” Harry said.

“You can’t stay. It’s just a dream,” Ron said and Harry turned to look at him.

“I’m going to come be with you. I’m done. I can’t keep going anymore.”

“Harry, you can’t.”

“Why? No one wants me around. Sirius doesn’t even care about me. Look what he did.”

Ron nodded at him sadly. “I know but Sirius isn’t stable. You have a lot of people who care about you and you know it.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t, not anymore. no one will miss me.”

Ron sighed. “Come sit. I have something to show you.”

Harry stared at him for a moment, hesitating, but eventually went to sit next to his friend. Once he was sitting, Ron waved his hand in front of them. The air in front of them shimmered and then began to morph into an image. Harry frowned as he watched the image clear up and begin to move.

He found himself staring at Alexei who was standing outside, getting soaked by the pouring rain. The vampire was staring down at the ground in front of him where there was a gravestone. The scene focused and allowed him to read the name: Harry Potter.

His heart skipped painfully and he looked at Ron sharply. “What is this?”

“Just watch.”

Harry turned back to the scene. Alexei was finally leaving the grave and headed inside a nearby house. The vampire walked slowly through the house, ending up in a sitting room. He sat on a sofa, obviously not caring that he was still wet. He looked over at an armchair and Harry was surprised to see Severus. However, the Potions master looked nothing like the man he currently knew.

“Severus?” Alexei said but got no response. “Severus.”

This time the man’s eyes cracked open. The man’s hair was much longer and very messy. It was also very clearly dirty. His face was a sickly pale and sunken. It looked like his skin had been stretched over his bones. His eyes had dark circles underneath and they were dull. There was almost no life left in his eyes.

“Drinking already?” Alexei said and Harry noticed the half empty whiskey bottle on the little table beside Severus’ chair. Harry frowned. Severus didn’t drink hard liquor. He really only drank wine.

“What about it?” Severus snapped.

“You’re going to drink yourself to death,” Alexei said.

“Does it matter?” Severus grumbled. “I already can’t leave the house and Harry’s gone. I might as well be dead.”

Alexei sighed, but didn’t respond. Harry had a feeling he could see the same desire for death in the vampire’s eyes. The scene shimmered and disappeared.

“What was that?” Harry asked again.

“A possible future,” Ron said. “This is the future most likely to happen if you kill yourself right now.”

Harry frowned.

“In this future, you are dead. Lucius is gone. He left England and was never heard from again. Severus quit Hogwarts and has to live with Alexei. He is under lifetime house arrest because he nearly beat Sirius to death. Sirius is in a coma and will never wake up. Severus is an alcoholic and will probably drink himself to death. Alexei has been searching for a way to die.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “All because I died?”

Ron nodded. “These people care about you, they love you. You can’t imagine the pain they will experience if you die.”

“But Sirius…”

“Sirius doesn’t matter anymore,” Ron interrupted. “I know he’s your godfather but that’s just a title. He doesn’t act like a godfather. Hold onto the ones that do act like your family. They all care about you so much.”

“What if they hurt me like Sirius? Or like the Dursleys?” Harry said quietly.

Ron looked at him gently. “Do you really think they would or could?”

Harry thought about all the men in his life. He hadn’t ever thought Sirius could or would hurt him but he had. It was completely possible that Severus, Lucius, or Alexei could hurt him eventually, but would they? Did he believe they would ever hurt him?

Did he really want to leave them? Yes, Sirius had hurt him but Ron was right. Severus, Lucius, and Alexei were acting like his family. They had been doing anything and everything to help him and take care of him all year. Severus had even gotten guardianship of him even though it would make things difficult if he ever had to spy again. None of them had abandoned him or hurt him.

Harry looked at Ron. He missed his friend so much and he wanted Ron back so much more after what happened.

“I wish I could be with you,” Ron said, “but don’t forget about all those who you do still have with you.”

Harry just pulled Ron into a hug, wishing he could still stay there forever.

Harry slowly woke up, blinking at the light. He put on his glasses and found Severus sitting by his bed, apparently marking some assignments. As he watched, his mind travelled randomly to his Potions assignment, the one he had been struggling with for so long. It seemed like it shouldn’t matter at all but, in that moment, it was the main thing on his mind. He remembered how much he had been struggling. He also remembered what Alexei had told him. Severus would want to help him, they all would. The three of them only ever wanted to help him.

“Can you help me with my Potions assignment?” he asked and Severus’ head popped up.

“You’re awake,” Severus said and then his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Your assignment? Of course I’ll help you. How long have you been having trouble with it?”

Harry’s lips twitched and he pushed himself up so he was sitting. “Since you assigned it.”

“Harry, that was nearly a month ago. It’s your semester project,” Severus said. “How come you didn’t ask for help earlier?”

“I thought it would be cheating,” Harry said. “You’re my guardian so I thought it was cheating to get your help or that you could be accused of favouritism.”

Severus gave him a small smile. “You can always ask for help. Surely you know I would never go easier on your work just because you are my ward.”

Harry chuckled a little. “That’s true.”

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked, changing the subject. The atmosphere because a little sadder and tenser.

Harry sighed and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m okay. I talked to Ron.”

Severus nodded and Harry found it amusing that the man didn’t even question what he meant.

“I want to be okay,” Harry said. “I don’t want to hurt you by leaving. I just can’t believe what Sirius did. I didn’t think he would ever hurt me, especially not like that.”

Severus began to reach out but obviously rethought the action, and placed his hand on the bed beside Harry’s still covered legs instead.

“I can’t explain his actions or reasons, but I can tell you that you are safe with us,” Severus said. “Know that we will never hurt you.”

Harry gave him a small smile. He had a lot of healing to do still, but it would be easier with Severus, Lucius, and Alexei. “I know.”

Harry blinked blankly at Severus, trying to understand what his guardian had just said. They were in the sitting room and Severus was helping Harry with his Potions assignment. However, it wasn’t going well as Harry was still not fully understanding.

“I’m still confused,” Harry said.

“What is still confusing you?” Severus asked.

“Okay, I get that I have to do all kinds of research but that’s about it,” Harry said and Severus chuckled.

“You choose an ingredient and research its properties and how those properties change based on its preparation. You also choose one potion the ingredient is in and research its use in the potion,” Severus said and Harry nodded, following so far. “The second half of the assignment is to research how your chosen potion would change if you prepared your ingredient in three different ways. You then have the option to make the potion using one of those other preparation techniques.”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, finally understanding. “Wait, you want me to brew a potion on my own?”

Severus laughed again. “You do not have to. That part is optional. I have it there to give some students a chance to practice their brewing.”

Harry looked at him. “You want me to do it, don’t you?”

“It is your decision, but it would be a good opportunity,” Severus said and Harry rolled his eyes.

“So, yes,” Harry said. “Someone has to be there when I brew it.”

“One of us will help you,” Severus said, a slight smirk on his face.

“Thanks for helping,” Harry said.

Severus inclined his head. “Remember to ask for help if you need it from now on.”

“I’ll try.”

The door opened and they both looked up to see Alexei poking his head inside. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh, rebenok, good, you’re here,” Alexei said.

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, frowning at the odd gleam in the vampire’s eyes.  

Alexei smiled. “We have a surprise for you.”

Harry put his homework aside and watched Alexei walk into the room, opening the door all the way. His eyes grew wide at the figure that followed Alexei inside. He got to his feet, staring at the other man he had missed so much.

“Lucius?” he whispered and Lucius looked past his long, messy hair at the child. The man’s hair was no longer its brilliant white blonde. It was very grimy and lank. The man’s face was skeletal and, by the way the clothes hung off him, Harry knew the man’s body was the same way. His face was dirty as well, adding to the sunken look of his eyes and cheeks. The silver-grey eyes were dull, broken, and haunted but some light returned as they rested on Harry.

While he was still hesitant about being touched since the incident with Sirius, Harry pushed it aside and rushed to hug Lucius tightly. He didn’t care that the man was dirty. He was just so happy to have Lucius back after all this time. It had been nearly three months.

Lucius eventually pulled back and cupped Harry’s face. “I have missed you,” he whispered.

Harry smiled. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Harry, he’ll be staying here so you can bring him to the room beside yours,” Severus said and Harry nodded, only vaguely noticing that the other room was a new addition. Severus stopped them as they walked by, pulling Lucius into his own hug. “Welcome back home.”

Lucius smiled gratefully at him, continuing to follow Harry to the new bedroom. Harry supported him as they entered the room and helped him sit on the bed. Lucius slowly pulled his feet up onto the bed and arranged himself so he was sitting propped up against the mound of pillows. Harry perched on the side beside Lucius’ legs.

“So, you’re staying here?” Harry said. “For how long?”

“Until the end of school and then I will be going to wherever we all decide to live,” Lucius said, taking a sip of the water that had been on the bedside table.

“You live with Severus now?” Harry said, doing his best to contain his joy.

“I live with all of you,” Lucius said. “You live and will be living with Severus too, and we’ve already decided to live with Alexei as well.” A brief thought had Lucius wondering why Harry seemed to have regained some of his doubts and uncertainties.

Harry began grinning. “But what about your manor?”

“I put it up for sale before I was arrested,” Lucius said. “I was never going to be able to live there again.”

Harry nodded in understanding.

“So, what has been going on around here while I’ve been gone?” Lucius asked. “I am sure there is a lot to discuss.”

“Do you want to wash up or get some sleep first?” Harry said, not sure if he should tell the man what happened only a week ago.

“Not yet,” Lucius said, smiling. “I want to spend more time with you first. You are the only reason I survived in there.”

Harry flushed, slightly embarrassed. It continued to surprise him when any of the men directly showed how much they cared about him. It really helped him realize Sirius was wrong and Ron was right. However, the question remained: should he tell Lucius what happened with Sirius? The man would probably find out eventually from Severus or Alexei. It might be better coming from him directly.

He let out a deep breath and looked at Lucius. “A lot has happened,” he began and Lucius looked at him curiously, waiting.

And so he dove in. He told Lucius everything that had happened in the last three months. Lucius was quiet through it all, just listening, though Harry could see his expressions and eyes changing. When he finally got to what had just happened, Lucius’ face hardened. Harry found that it was difficult to talk about what happened, but it also felt like a bit of weight was being lifted from him at the same time. It was a little therapeutic to talk about it.

“I’m getting better though,” Harry said, coming to the end. “I don’t hurt anymore and I’m getting back to where I was on the whole touching thing. Obviously, Severus and Alexei have been really helping. I’ve still been having a lot of nightmares, though, but they said those will start to slowly go away eventually.”

Lucius stared at Harry for a while, making the boy shift nervously. “Where are Black and Lupin now?”

“St. Mungo’s,” Harry said. “Dumbledore sent them and they were officially admitted to the psych ward.”

“Good,” Lucius said. “You are really alright, kid?”

Harry smiled and nodded. He reached out and grasped one of Lucius’ hands, squeezing gently. “I’m alright and I’ll be even better now that you’re finally home.”

Lucius just smiled, his eyes a little teary.

Harry flew up in his bed, breathing heavily. His nightmares had gotten worse since the incident with Sirius. They were always a mixture of the graveyard scene and Sirius torturing him. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked at the clock. It was only three in the morning. He blew out a breath and threw his covers aside, getting out of bed. He pulled his sleeves down from where they had rolled up his arms while he slept.

He shuffled quietly out of his room and headed into the kitchen. He put the kettle on to make some tea and then opened the fridge. He pulled out the leftover chicken and sat at the table, picking at the cold food. Once the water began to boil, he rose and prepared his tea.

“Harry?” He looked over his shoulder to see Severus in the doorway, pulling a robe on. “Why are you up? What’s wrong?”

Harry sat with his tea and tore off another piece of chicken, tossing it in his mouth. “Nightmare,” he said shortly.

Severus sighed and made his own tea, sitting across from the boy. “Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s the same one I’ve told you about every night this week,” Harry said somewhat irritably. “I want them to end.”

“I know, child, and they will given time,” Severus said. “You don’t dream about the Dursleys as often anymore and the same will happen with this nightmare.”

Harry gave a small nod. “Except the graveyard. I don’t think that’ll stop until Voldemort’s plan happens, whatever it is.”

“Is your scar hurting?” Severus asked and Harry shook his head.

“Not this time,” Harry said, sipping his tea. “It was the beginning of the nightmare, though, so I think it was negated by the Sirius part.”

Severus didn’t respond as Harry looked down, playing with the remaining chicken. The entire subject of Sirius was quite sensitive and they really only approached it if Harry did first.

“He really didn’t want me to be with you,” Harry said quietly.

“You know he is unstable and we hated each other,” Severus said.

“I really don’t think that’s an excuse,” Harry said. “If it had been the other way around, you wouldn’t have tried to break the guardianship or anything.”

“Not unless Black had proven himself dangerous, which he obviously did,” Severus said, taking a drink of his own tea and swiping a chunk of chicken.

“What if he was normal?” Harry asked.

“Then no, I would have left the two of you alone,” Severus said. “As long as you were happy with him, I would have accepted it.”

Harry nodded. “And that’s why hating each other isn’t a good enough reason. You don’t try to destroy something if people are happy. He didn’t want me happy.”

Severus sighed. “He can only destroy this and your happiness if you let him.”

Harry quirked a smile. “Alexei said almost the same thing the day you were arrested.”

Severus smiled back. “Great minds think alike.”

Harry chuckled and took another drink of tea. “Are we all really going to live together after school ends?”

Severus nodded. “Once we all decide where we would like to live. Alexei has many properties for us to look at.”

Harry gave another small smile. “I never expected that would happen. Living with you, any of you. I honestly thought you all would have left by now like everyone else.”

“Well, we are obviously not like everyone else,” Severus said with a grin, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

“You’re definitely not,” Harry said, laughing quietly again.

They both sobered and Severus gave him a gentle look. “You are really alright, child?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Harry said. “I’ll be okay.”

They were interrupted then by a quiet ringing and Harry looked at his guardian in question.

“It is a monitoring charm I put on Lucius’ room in case he needs help or has nightmares,” Severus explained, getting to his feet. “I am going to check on him. Would you make him a cup of tea?”

Harry nodded. “Definitely.”

As the boy prepared another cup of tea, Severus walked through the sitting room and into Lucius’ room. The ringing ceased the moment he entered the room and the small lamp on the bedside table illuminated. Lucius was still lying in the bed but his eyes were wide open and staring up at the ceiling. As Severus entered, Lucius turned his head to look at his friend and maneuvered so he was sitting.

“Just nightmares,” Lucius said before Severus could ask.

“Do you need anything?” Severus asked and Lucius shook his head.

“I’m alright,” Lucius said just as Harry poked his head into the room. He came inside when he saw Lucius awake and talking to Severus.

“I brought tea,” Harry said, bringing it to Lucius in the bed.

The man smiled, taking the cup. “Thank you.”

“You are sure you don’t need anything else?” Severus said, receiving a nod in response.

“Go back to bed,” Lucius said, taking a drink from his tea.

“Very well,” Severus said and looked at Harry.

“Um, I know it’s late, but do you mind if I stay up with Lucius for a little bit?” Harry asked, looking at his guardian.

Severus gave him a small smile. “Of course, but try to get some more sleep.”

Harry nodded, sitting on the edge of Lucius’ bed. “I will.”

Severus inclined his head. “Good night, gentlemen,” he said and left the room, heading back to his own to get some more sleep.

“You should be getting back to bed, too,” Lucius said and Harry looked at him.

“I know, but I can’t sleep yet,” Harry said.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Lucius asked and Harry nodded. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Will you talk about yours?” Harry asked and Lucius gave him a slightly surprised expression, not expecting the retort.

“That’s not necessary,” Lucius said. “You do not need to hear about what I see in my nightmares.”

“You guys make me talk about mine, say it helps,” Harry said, scooting back across the bed so he was leaning against the wall.

“That is because you have been through so much this year.”

“So, have you,” Harry argued and Lucius blinked, taken aback by the logic. “Is that what you dream about? Draco?”

Lucius sighed, staring down into his tea. “Sometimes. The Dementors made it an even more prominent memory.”

Harry looked down at his lap. “I always dream about Ron, not usually about his death though. Except tonight, along with what happened with Sirius.”

“I wish I had been here,” Lucius said regretfully.

“You are now and I think that’s more important,” Harry said. “You’ll help me get better.”

“Of course I will,” Lucius said. “We all will.”

“And we’ll help you,” Harry said. “You really think I got better about Ron on my own? You can’t even imagine how much Severus helped me.”

“I think I can,” Lucius said. Harry looked at him curiously, “because you helped me in the same way after Draco.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t remember doing anything.”

“You did more than you think,” Lucius said. “I may have been lost after Draco without you.”

Harry flushed slightly before breaking into a yawn.

“You need to get back to sleep,” Lucius said.

Harry shook his head. “I’m okay.”

Lucius put his teacup on the bedside table and motioned for Harry to come lay beside him. Harry moved beside the man, lying against the pillow with Lucius’ arm under his shoulders. They were silent for a while as they got comfortable.

“Tell me about Draco,” Harry said and Lucius looked down at him questioningly. “I never knew him, not really. What was the Draco you knew like?”

“I’ll tell you stories if you also tell me about Ron,” Lucius said. Harry nodded in agreement. He settled in and began to listen to a story about a four-year-old Draco who had thought he could fly if he held a wand. Harry eventually found himself involuntarily drifting off during the story of Draco’s first tiresome rant about that ‘Perfect Potter’.

Severus and Alexei were sitting at the bottom of the Slytherin stands at the Quidditch Pitch, watching Harry and the twins. The three Gryffindors had asked them to supervise while Harry practiced spells he may need to use in the Third Task. Fred and George also wanted to teach Harry some higher-level spells in hopes they could provide more help. Severus and Alexei had agreed and followed the boys to the pitch. Now they sat watching while also engaged in their own conversation.

“Are you sure about this?” Alexei said, a little shocked by Severus’ revelation.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Severus said. “I haven’t actually officially decided yet.”

“But this is what you want to do?” Alexei said, watching as Harry practiced the Shield Charm the twins had taught him.

“I think so,” Severus said after a brief hesitation.

“What about…everything?”

“That is what is making me reconsider,” Severus said. “If Voldemort returns, I will have to spy again. It could make this dangerous. No one could ever know until Voldemort was destroyed or I am discovered. None of that would be fair.”

They both looked out at Harry who had used Tripping Charms on the twins repeatedly and was on his knees, laughing.

“We won’t be letting go,” Alexei said.

“I know,” Severus said, “but this makes it all so much more.”

Alexei nodded, understanding. “When you decide, I can get everything you need. I would suggest trying to gauge his thoughts on such a situation.”

“I will.”

And they both continued watching the three young Gryffindors.

“There is certainly something odd about the entire sequence of events,” Lucius said to Harry. They were both sitting on the sofa with an official Ministry document. Alexei had finally been able to pull everything on the Crouch family, particularly Crouch Jr., and brought it home. Lucius had read through most of it, finding a few inconsistencies. He was now going through it all with Harry.

“What exactly?” Harry asked, trying to see what Lucius was seeing.

“It would appear Mrs. Crouch disappeared around the same time her son died in Azkaban,” Lucius said.

“Why is that odd?” Harry asked. “Maybe she was just really sad and wanted to leave.”

Lucius hummed to himself. “Maybe.”

“You obviously don’t think so,” Harry said.

“I’m not sure what I think,” Lucius said. “I find it hard to believe that Crouch Jr. could be alive but…”

“Is it possible?” Harry asked and Lucius sighed.

“There are ways to appear dead.”

“Why so somber?” Alexei asked as he entered the rooms, holding a couple of large brown envelopes.

“We’re looking at all the Crouch stuff you brought,” Harry said, moving over closer to Lucius so the vampire could join them on the sofa.

“Find anything?” Alexei asked, putting his packages on the coffee table.

“There is something odd, but nothing conclusive,” Lucius said. He went to close the file but found it snatched by Harry who read through it all intently. “It seems it could be possible that Crouch Jr. is alive.”

Alexei’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? How?”

Lucius shrugged. “As I said, nothing is conclusive.”

The vampire nodded, looking at Harry whose eyebrows were furrowed in his concentration. “Well, I have something that could provide a distraction.” He reached out and grabbed one of the envelopes, the larger of the two.

Harry looked up. “What is it?”

“These are the listings on all of my properties,” Alexei said. “I thought we might go through them and begin trying to decide where we would like to live. After all, there is only a month of the school year left.”

Harry found himself blinking as he realized the truth in the vampire’s statement. There was only a month left. He really wasn’t going back to the Dursleys’. He was really going to be living with these three men. His face fell into a slight frown as he considered something.

“Isn’t it going to be hard or dangerous for me to live with you?” Harry said. “Severus is a spy and Lucius is still thought to be Dark Side Loyal. What if someone finds out?”

“Then we will deal with it,” Lucius said.

“All of these properties are well protected and cannot be traced,” Alexei said. “Nothing will ever be able to get any of us at these places.”

“You are staying with us no matter what,” Severus said, coming out of his lab. “We all knew it wouldn’t be a simple situation.”

“I just don’t want to put you in more danger,” Harry said. “What if Voldemort comes back?”

“Then we will be in danger regardless,” Severus said. 

“But at least we’ll be able to make sure you are protected and safe,” Lucius added.

“You will be safer with us in one of these places than Privet Drive,” Alexei said, pulling all the papers out.

Harry nodded. “What’s going to happen in the long run?”

The three men looked at him question.

“What do you mean?” Severus asked as he sat in Harry’s chair. He reached across the table and took some of the papers from Alexei as they waited for Harry’s answer.

“The guardianship,” Harry said. “Will you be trying to find like a foster family or are we just going to stay like this?”

The three men glanced at each other, Alexei giving Severus a pointed look.

“I hadn’t really considered it,” Severus said. “I have no problem keeping guardianship. If it suits the both of us, we can keep this arrangement until you are of age and then you will be free to do what you want and go where you want.”

Harry didn’t see the stern look Alexei shot at his guardian. “The guardianship would be stable for that long? You would want to be my guardian for that long?”

Severus gave him a gentle smile. “I will be your guardian for as long as you want me to be.”

Harry returned the smile and nodded.

“Alright,” Alexei said, breaking the silence that had fallen. “Let’s start narrowing down our options.” He handed a few papers to both Harry and Lucius.

Harry gaped slightly. “How many houses do you have exactly?”

“Eleven,” Alexei said simply and Harry stared at him with wide eyes. Lucius and Severus shared amused looks at Harry’s shock. Alexei returned the boy’s stare with a raised eyebrow. “I’m fairly old, rebenok,” he added as though it perfectly explained and justified owning eleven properties.

Harry eventually just shook his head without responding and began looking at the property listings he had been given. He stared incredulous at the first one. It was huge! It looked like it could be a school or an orphanage. He scanned the details. Why would anyone ever need twenty-three rooms, nine of them being bedrooms? He instantly put that one of the coffee table as a rejected choice. It was way too big.

They were mostly silent for a while aside from the odd question about what they would all like or not like in a place. Eventually, after close to two hours, they finally had it narrowed down to three properties.

“We’ll take some time to really decide,” Alexei said, taking the rejected properties. “We don’t have to make a final decision now.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“It is dinner time so it is time Harry and I head up to the Great Hall,” Severus said, getting to his feet. “We will see you in a little while.”

Harry gave a small wave as they left the rooms even though he knew he was going to see them in a couple of hours.

“So, what is the other envelope?” Lucius asked Alexei when the others were gone. He and Alexei also got up and headed into the kitchen.

“Just something Severus asked me to get,” Alexei said vaguely, realizing Severus hadn’t told Lucius about his potential plan.

Lucius nodded as he tapped the table to make the food appear. “You know where the blood is,” he said to the vampire, sitting down.

Alexei retrieved a large glass of blood for himself before taking a seat across from his friend. “So, what is this apparent anomaly you found in the Crouch files?”

“It’s not an anomaly, more of an odd coincidence,” Lucius said, taking a bite of his lamb. “It seems Mrs. Crouch went missing around the same time Crouch Jr. died in Azkaban.”

“That’s not overly strange,” Alexei said.

“No, except Mrs. Crouch adored her son even after he was revealed as a Death Eater and sent to Azkaban,” Lucius explained. “She made sure to set up visits once a month. I can’t imagine she would just stop one day and not be around to bury her son.”

Alexei nodded, processing the information. “That does make it odder. Any theories?”

Lucius shook his head. “All I can say is it could be possible Crouch Jr. faked his death. Maybe his mother brought him something during a visit.”

“Perhaps,” Alexei agreed.

“I’m not sure there’s much else to discover,” Lucius said with a slight sigh. “This is all there is on the Crouch family. If Crouch Jr. is alive, there is nothing documenting it.”

“I will see if there is anything else I can find,” Alexei said and Lucius gave him a thankful smile.

Harry stared down at his cauldron, one eyebrow raised in confusion. His potion seemed to be a strange colour. His eyebrow rose further and was joined by his other when the smoke rising from his cauldron turned green. Everyone else had a lilac-coloured smoke.

He sighed and sat, wincing slightly as Severus vanished the ruined potion. He briefly met his guardian’s eyes but looked back down at the disappointment he saw there. He had messed up the potion twice and now there was no time to start again. He couldn’t explain how he felt seeing Severus’ disappointment. He had never felt it before.

He shook his head at himself and started to pack away his things. Class was almost over and the other students were beginning to bottle their completed potions. He didn’t know what had happened. He couldn’t seem to focus.

The bell rang and everyone began to leave. Harry had rose but found himself halting at the professor’s call.

“Potter, stay behind.”

Harry flopped back onto his seat with a huff and dropped his bag heavily on the floor. He watched the rest of the students leave the class, some sending him various looks from sympathy to glee. He just shook his head and waited.

Severus was walking around the room, cleaning up any remaining ingredients or tools left behind. He didn’t seem to be rushing either and Harry scowled. The man was making him wait on purpose.

“Can we just do this now so I can go to dinner?” Harry said eventually, tired of waiting for his guardian to end the game.

Severus looked up from the sink where he was washing a few tools. He raised an eyebrow and Harry sighed.

“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t focus. Can I go eat now?”

Severus grabbed a towel and dried his hands as he turned around. He stared at Harry as he dried his hands, making the boy shift uncomfortably. Once he tossed the towel aside, he crossed his arms, continuing to stare at Harry.

“I am not angry,” Severus said and Harry frowned. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, giving a small shrug. “I couldn’t focus.”

“Why?”

“How the hell should I know?” Harry snapped irritably.

“Reign in the attitude, young man,” Severus chided and Harry fought against rolling his eyes. He couldn’t push the man that far without incurring a dreadful wrath. “Now, calm yourself and tell me what is going on.”

Harry poked at a scorch mark on his desk, trying to push down his anger. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so angry. Severus hadn’t done anything. After several moments, he let out a deep breath, feeling a bit calmer.

“I don’t really know,” he said honestly. “There’s just so much going on in my head.”

“Like what?”

“Moody, Crouch Jr., Lucius, the Final Task, Sirius,” Harry listed. “Everything’s just a mess.”

“You can’t worry about things you can’t control,” Severus said and Harry huffed, feeling his anger rising again.

“I know that, but I can’t help it,” Harry said. “Like the whole Crouch Jr. thing. I am so positive Moody is Crouch Jr., but I have absolutely no way to prove it. Everyone and everything says Crouch Jr. is dead.”

“Alexei is trying to find more about that,” Severus said.

Harry sighed. “I know.”

“Come on,” Severus said. “Let’s have some tea and then you can go to dinner. I have something to give you.”

Harry nodded and followed his guardian from the class. They went down the corridor a few doors before stepping through one into Severus’ rooms. The lack of Lucius implied the man was probably resting in his room. Lucius had been sleeping a lot since his return home.

Harry sat in his chair and watched Severus summon everything for tea. He tapped the kettle to begin boiling the water. They prepared their tea in comfortable silence. Once they had their tea, Severus banished everything and summoned something else. Whatever it was landed on the sofa beside him.

Harry sipped his tea and waited, staring at his guardian in quiet curiosity.

“We have been waiting until you were more healed from what Black and Lupin did. We were waiting until you had accepted and come to terms with what happened,” Severus said.

“Okay?” Harry said slowly, slightly frowning.

Severus held out what he had summoned and Harry saw it was a small stack of letters. Harry took them and, looking at the front, recognized the messy scrawl. His eyes flew up to his guardian who was watching him somewhat warily.

“Sirius?” he said quietly and Severus nodded. His eyebrows furrowed together. “You’ve been hiding my letters?”

“You were still recovering,” Severus said. “We did not want anything to set you back.”

“So, you took my letters? My letters from my godfather?” Harry said angrily.

“Harry…”

“No!” Harry jumped to his feet, clenching the letters in his fist. “You kept these from me! You hid them!”

“Harry…”

“No!” he yelled again, shaking his head. He felt his eyes watering as he stared at his guardian. He shook his head again and rushed from the room. He ran out of the dungeons and into the Great Hall. He sat heavily at the end of Gryffindor table. He pushed the empty plate aside and stared down at the half a dozen letters from Sirius.

He couldn’t believe Severus had hid the letters from him. Severus never hid things from him. Why would he do this? It was reminding him too much of other things. He couldn’t help compare it to his Uncle Vernon taking all his Hogwarts letters. He also kept remembering how Dobby had taken all the letters from his friends the summer before second year. People were always hiding things from him. Hell, he hadn’t known he was a wizard until he was eleven! Every year bad things happened because of lies and things being hidden. Severus had never been one to hide anything from him. How could he?

He blew out a breath to calm down and pulled out the letter he assumed was the first. He stared at it and chewed his lip. Did he want to read it? Did he want to hear anything Sirius had to say?

“Hello, Harry.”

Harry looked up at Luna as the girl sat across from him.

“Hey, Luna,” he said, putting the letter down on the table. 

“How are you?” she asked.

Harry shrugged and sighed. “I’m not really sure, to be honest.”

Luna nodded and gestured to the letters, asking, “What are those?”

“Letters,” Harry said, “from Sirius.”

“I didn’t know he had been writing you,” Luna said.

Harry scowled slightly. “I didn’t either. Severus was hiding them from me.”

“You are angry about that?”

“Well, yeah, he never hides things from me.”

“He must’ve had a reason to do so this time.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Luna gave a soft smile. “No, it doesn’t, but doesn’t it remind you how much he cares about you? He was protecting you from someone who had harmed you and done so when he was unable to help. He needs to try and protect you now that he can.”

Harry tapped the letters, contemplating what Luna had said. It made sense but he still couldn’t help feeling hurt that Severus would still hide something from him. If he hid the letters, what else could he be hiding? What could he hide in the future?”

“He’s not like the others, Harry,” Luna said quietly and Harry met her calm eyes.

He just sighed again.

Harry walked into Severus’ rooms later that evening. He looked around the door before entering and found no one else there. He closed the door behind him and moved through the sitting room. He tossed the still unopened letters from Sirius onto the coffee table. He still didn’t know if he wanted to read them. He hadn’t forgotten or forgiven what had happened. He wasn’t sure he ever would. He turned to head into the kitchen to get a snack when something he had seen on the coffee table finally registered.

He turned back, staring curiously at the large brown envelope. He walked around the table and sat on the safe in front of the envelope. He knew he probably shouldn’t look. It was probably Severus’ or Alexei’s or Lucius’. They could be mad if he looked. It could be private but, if it was, they wouldn’t normally just leave it lying around.

He bit his lip, his natural curiosity screaming at him to open the envelope. Whenever he followed his curiosity, however, he usually found himself in trouble. He bounced on the sofa a little, anxious. He wanted to know what it was but he didn’t want to get in trouble or make anyone angry.

After several more moments, he finally shook his head at himself and grabbed the envelope. It was a little heavy and felt slightly thick, indicating a package of papers inside. He hesitated another couple seconds before flipping it over and reaching inside to pull out the contents. As his eyes first fell on the pages, all he saw were words filling the paper. None of it was really making sense. They were obviously from the Ministry and filled with legal, political, Ministry jargon. He flipped through the pages, trying to find something he could understand.

He was flipping and scanning when he stopped. A single word had caught his eye and he went back to the previous page. His eyes immediately focused on a single word at the top of the page.

Adoption.

Adoption? Harry continued to read the word over and over again as though he didn’t understand what it meant. Although that wasn’t completely untrue. He couldn’t seem to comprehend what it meant. What did it mean? Was someone getting adopted? Who and by who? Was Severus or Lucius or Alexei adopting someone? Were the forms meant to be for…him? Was Severus going to adopt him? Did he want to be adopted and adopted by Severus? He had never thought about it before, had never even considered it.

But he could be jumping to conclusions. For all he knew they were for someone else completely. Maybe Alexei was helping someone and just hadn’t gotten the forms to them yet.

What was the pressure he was suddenly feeling in his chest?

“Harry, here you are.”

Harry looked up at Alexei who had just entered the rooms.

“I think I have the perfect topic for your History of Magic project. I was there so I can tell you e—” The vampire stopped as his gaze fell on Harry and the papers in his hands. If it was possible, Harry could swear Alexei paled.

“What the hell are these?” Harry said, waving the papers.

“Harry, I think you should talk to Severus,” Alexei said.

“No, I want you to tell me now,” Harry demanded. He wasn’t sure why he felt so panicked.

“Harry…” Alexei said, sighing. “Severus asked me to get them.”

“Why?”

“I really think you should talk to Severus,” Alexei said again and found himself saved when Severus walked into the room.

Severus frowned slightly as he took in Alexei’s worried face and Harry’s mixed expression. “What is going on?”

“Harry found the papers,” Alexei said and Severus’ heart skipped anxiously. Severus nodded at Alexei who returned it and headed into Lucius’ room.

Severus looked at Harry gently and sighed, moving to sit in the chair that was usually Harry’s. “Is this going to become a habit, looking at things that aren’t yours?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that matters right now. What are these?”

“Those would be adoption papers,” Severus said calmly.

“For what?”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “They are generally used when an adult and a child have a bond they wish to make permanent.”

Harry gave another hard stare. “Why do you have them?”

“I was considering—”

“Were you even going to ask me first?”

Severus glared at the boy. “Do you honestly think I could adopt you without your knowledge or consent? Don’t be such an imbecile.”

“But why would you have these?” Harry repeated, finding his unexplainable anger fading into unexplainable desperation.

“It is an option I have been considering,” Severus said. “I care for you very much and want to keep you in my life. I want to provide a stable, happy life for you.”

“But why?” Harry whispered, unable to understand.

Severus gave him another gentle look. “Because I love you, child.”

Harry stared at him, his throat burning and his heart pounding. His head was throbbing and his ears were ringing. He had no idea how to respond. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel. He shook his head and dropped the papers as though they had burned him. He glanced at his guardian again before rushing from the sitting room and into the guestroom. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, breathing hard.

He couldn’t explain why he was acting like this. He felt so confused but he didn’t know why. Wasn’t this what he had always wanted, to have a family, to be wanted and loved? It’s what Severus was obviously offering so why wasn’t he accepting it? Why was he freaking out? He had wanted this his whole life.

You never pictured it being with Severus, Ron’s voice in his head said.

He frowned and slid down the door until he was sitting. It was true. Severus had never been the one he thought this would happen with. Up until this year, he had still been Snape, evil bastard of the dungeons and the man that hated him. His family dream had never included Severus Snape.

It had changed over the years as he grew up. When he was little he had still held out hope that his relatives would change and accept him as part of the family. When he met the Weasleys, he began to hope that maybe they could be his family. Then he met Sirius and it was supposed to be Sirius. He would be cleared and would be able to take him from the Dursleys’, and they would be family, just the two of them. And in between it all and in the very back of his mind, he held onto the fool’s hope that one day something would be able to bring his parents back. Then he could have his real family.

None of that was possible though. They were all dreams that would never happen.

But now there was Severus, offering it all.

Is it what he wanted? Did he want this and with Severus? He had never considered the idea of adoption. He had found himself content with the man’s guardianship, never thinking or believing it could or would go any further.

Did he want this?

Severus would be his family, but wasn’t he already? Unknowingly, he had already begun to think of Severus and Lucius and Alexei as his family. They had done so much for him, helped him, and taken care of him. He couldn’t imagine his life without them anymore. He cared about them so much.

Did he want this?

Did he love them, love Severus?

Was adoption what he really wanted?

Did he want Severus to be his father?

He buried his face in his knees.

He didn’t know what he wanted.

Severus sighed sadly as Harry disappeared into his bedroom. He looked over at the dropped adoption forms, wondering if he had made a horrible mistake. He glanced up as a door opened and Lucius and Alexei came uncertainly into the sitting room.

“He didn’t take it well?” Alexei ventured and Severus shook his head.

“This is obviously not something he wants,” Severus said, his heart breaking a little. He had really thought the child would be happy or excited about an adoption offer. He had thought the child felt the same way about him. Evidently not.

“You don’t know that,” Lucius said.

“He was probably just surprised,” Alexei added.

Severus shook his head, getting to his feet. “You can take the forms back, Alexei. Clearly I won’t be needing them after all.”

“Severus…” Alexei protested.

“Give him some time,” Lucius said. “Understand he had probably never even considered adoption by anyone before.”

“Exactly,” Severus argued. “He hasn’t considered it, we’re not in the same place.”

“Remember how he grew up,” Lucius said. “He grew up being told and believing no one wanted him. Why would he think about adoption when he believed he was unwanted?”

Severus didn’t answer, silently acknowledging the truth in what Lucius said. While it all made sense, he still couldn’t help feeling hurt at Harry’s reaction to the forms.

“Give him time and then talk to him about it again,” Alexei said.

Severus sighed and nodded. They all stopped and looked when Harry’s door opened. The boy walked out and walked quickly through the sitting room, completely ignoring the three men.

“Harry—” Alexei started to say.

“No,” Harry interrupted. “No, I can’t, not right now. Just…just leave me alone.”

The three men watched as Harry left and glanced at each other sadly. 

“Hey, Harry.”

“Everything alright?”

Harry looked up at Fred and George as they sat across from him at Gryffindor table.

“I’m fine,” Harry said.

“We don’t think you are,” Fred said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you have been keeping to yourself,” Fred said.

“And you haven’t spoken to Snape, Malfoy, or Alexei in days,” George added.

Harry blew out a breath, wishing he could escape the conversation. He really didn’t want to talk about what was going on. It had been several days since he found the adoption forms and had the small blowout with Severus. He had made no progress in figuring the whole situation out. He still didn’t know what to think or how to feel. He didn’t know how he felt about the idea of being adopted and adopted by Severus. It was all very overwhelming.

“Things are fine,” Harry said even though he knew the twins weren’t going to believe him.

“What happened?” George asked.

“Look, it’s nothing,” Harry said. “There’s nothing you can do. This is all just me figuring things out.”

“We can try to help,” Fred said and George nodded.

Harry looked at them. Could they help? Would they even understand? He could barely understand it himself. Maybe they could help him figure out why he was feeling the way he was, if anything. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to about it all, so maybe talking would help. Finally, he nodded.

 “Let’s go somewhere else though so no one overhears,” Harry said and they left the Great Hall. They all seemed to have the same idea as they headed outside and sat by Ron.

“So, what’s been going on?” Fred asked once they were all settled on the ground.

Harry hesitated, wondering how to begin. “I found something I don’t think I was meant to.”

The twins just looked at him, waiting.

“Severus has adoption papers,” Harry said bluntly and the twins’ faces fell into shock.

“Adoption?” Fred said.

“He wants to adopt you?” George said.

Harry nodded while shrugging a shoulder. “I guess so.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?” Fred said.

“What’s the problem?” George said.

Harry started to frown. “I don’t know. I always thought if there was to ever be someone who wanted to adopt me, I’d be so happy, but…I’m not, and I don’t know why.”

“Do you want him to adopt you?” Fred asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Adoption has never even been an option so I have never really considered it. Hell, I never even considered anyone other than the Dursleys or Sirius even having guardianship. Severus was definitely never a consideration either until this year, and not even the full year. Things didn’t really start changing until after Ron died.”

“Well, it’s obviously an option now,” George said.

“Do you think he doesn’t really mean it?” Fred said.

“No, I know he does. He always means everything he does and says,” Harry said. “I didn’t know this was something he wanted. I didn’t know he felt this way.”

“Do you feel the same way?” George asked and Harry paused, turning to Ron’s grave and thinking.

Did he feel the same way? He began to think about everything that had happened, the memories playing like a slideshow. He focused on all the moments between him and Severus, as well as between him and Alexei and Lucius. He thought about how much they had all helped him, protected him, cared for him…

He had never noticed the extent of it all, always caught up in his emotions of the moment. He had never let himself notice that they did love him and, thinking about it all, he had never let himself consider if he felt the same. Did he? Did he love them, love Severus?

All the moments with Severus played again. Once more realizing how caught up he always was, he had never noticed that the professor had been like a father, all three of the men had been. He had been considering them, Severus especially, as father figures without even realizing.

“Is this something you want?” Fred asked.

“You’ve always wanted a family,” George said. “Looks like Snape and probably the others are offering to be your family.”

You can have a family and be happy, Ron’s voice whispered but he wasn’t sure if it was in his head or in his ear. A wind also picked up then, and blew across his face and through his hair. There was a warmth to the wind, however, and he immediately thought of Ron. He wasn’t seeing Ron in his dreams as often anymore and he knew they were coming to an end. Ron would leave soon, but he wasn’t ready for that. The dreams had let him hold onto his friend and he wasn’t ready to let go.

“I don’t know if this is what I want,” Harry said, looking back to the twins.

“Of course it is,” Fred said.

“It’s a family,” George said.

Your family, Ron’s voice whispered again.

Harry was walking through the dungeons, deep in thought as he headed back to Severus’ rooms. He was still aware enough, however, to notice the door to Severus’ stores closing and a familiar person standing in front of the now closed door. He frowned. What was Moody doing in Severus’ stores. Was he supposed to be there?

“Potter,” Moody growled as he spotted the boy, obviously caught off guard. “What’re you doin’ down here?”

“I’m going to see Professor Snape,” Harry said warily. “I’ve got a question about our final project.”

“Ah, well, best get to it then,” Moody said. “Ready for the task?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the professor. Was the man’s hair darker than usual? “I suppose. I’ve been practicing some stuff with the twins.”

Moody nodded and Harry’s frown deepened. The man’s hair was definitely darker and appeared to be getting shorter. “Good. You’ll need it. I must be off. Good evening, Potter, and good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said slowly, watching the man hobble away. He could swear he was watching the professor’s hair change. His eyes widened as light from a torch completely lit up Moody as he rounded a corner. The normally long, whiteish hair was now a dark brown and getting shorter.

He quickly spun to race to Severus’ rooms, only to instantly smack into a hard chest. Hands on his arms kept him on his feet, and he looked up at Alexei.

“Rebenok, what is the matter?” the vampire asked, concerned at the panic he saw on the boy’s face.

“It’s Moody,” Harry said. “He’s the one using Polyjuice Potion.”

Alexei frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve thought it was him ever since that memory in Dumbledore’s office,” Harry said. “He’s not Moody, he’s under Polyjuice.”

“How do you know this?”

“I just saw him and his hair was changing,” Harry said. “It was dark brown and shorter.”

Alexei’s frown deepened.

“I’m telling you, it’s Moody,” Harry repeated. “He’s been using Polyjuice all year.”

Alexei searched the child’s face before nodding. “Let’s speak with Severus.”

Severus stared at Harry with a frown, trying to comprehend what he had been told. “Would you mind repeating that? I’m not sure I heard correctly.”

Harry groaned, irritated. “Moody isn’t Moody. He’s the one using Polyjuice Potion and stealing your ingredients.”

“How could you possibly know this?”

“I just saw him and he was coming out of your storeroom. When he left, his hair was completely different,” Harry said. He spotted the look that passed between Severus and Alexei, and his eyes narrowed. “I’m not crazy. I know what I saw.”