1997

“Why don’t you just tell the little shit to bugger off?”

Harry shrugged at his grousing friend, who was glaring at Draco’s blond head as Draco retreated down the long aisle.

“Just sit down, Ron.” Ginny emphasized her suggestion with a sharp poke to her brother’s back. Ron continued to scowl, but he finally did duck his head inside the compartment and flop grumpily onto the bench as the train swayed.

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione scolded as she sat down on the bench opposite Ron, “he wasn’t bothering anyone. He just wanted to wish Harry a good summer.”

Ron directed his scowl at his girlfriend. “Malfoy always has an agenda.”

Hermione sighed and leaned her head back as Ron continued on.

“And how is he ever going to get it into his head that Harry doesn’t want to be his friend if Harry keeps being so nice to him?”

“Well, obviously Harry doesn’t mind,” Hermione pointed out, “so there’s no reason for you to work yourself up over it.”

“Harry doesn’t want to be friends with Malfoy!”

“Harry can be friends with whomever he chooses,” Hermione told him tartly as Neville and his girlfriend waved on their way past the quartet’s compartment.

“Malfoy’s become like one of those leaches—you know, the really juicy ones— we use in Potions class. Harry never chose to be friends with him.”

“Harry-” Hermione began to retort.

“Harry would rather not be the subject of your squabbling,” Harry interjected wearily as he settled next to Ron--though he would have preferred to sit next to Ginny. Ron and Hermione quieted immediately, both of them looking guilty, though neither of them so much as glanced at the other. Harry sighed, and shook his head slightly.

“Look,” he said quickly, “Malfoy’s a prat, I know, but he hasn’t done anything to me or anyone lately.” He shrugged again, at Ron’s skeptical look. “I don’t know if he’s up to something, but I can’t just be an arse to him for no reason.”

“Have you forgotten he almost got you killed?”

“Shut up, Ron,” Ginny ordered as Harry glared at his friend. As if he could have forgotten that. Draco had nearly gotten his father and Remus killed as well.

“I haven’t forgotten it,” Harry said quietly, glancing out the closed door, though it was unlikely that anyone would hear. “And he’s not my friend, all right?”

“Right,” Ron said tightly, though Harry wasn’t certain if Ron was annoyed at him, or at one of the girls, though Hermione wasn’t even looking at him; she was staring at the copy of today’s Prophet in her lap. “Sorry, mate,” Ron muttered after another moment, before turning toward the window.

Harry glanced at Ginny, who shrugged. Ron had been moody for days now, so he was fairly certain his spark of anger wasn’t really for Malfoy.

“Anything interesting in the Prophet?” Ginny asked Hermione pointedly, who was still focused on the newspaper. Hermione finally looked up.

“Scrimgeour’s resignation is being called for, even more strongly now,” she told him, pointing to the headlining article. Harry glanced at it, even though there was no point, since he couldn’t read upside down. Hermione passed the paper to him. “They do have a point,” she said.

The article was more of the same thing that had been churned over and over for months now. Scrimgeour’s administration had allowed Dawn Ridley, an innocent woman, to die in Bellatrix Lestrange’s stead—and Lucius Malfoy’s freedom was a certain sign of a corrupt system.

“Many people think Malfoy’s freedom is a slap in the face to every one of Voldemort’s victims,” Hermione added.

Harry vacillated on this point; he had since last Halloween, so he didn’t comment.

“Are they still nattering about my becoming minister?” he asked, not wanting to actually read the article. Hermione smiled.

“Of course. You and Dumbledore are the top candidates, all over wizarding Britain.”

“Just think,” Ginny said with a grin, “you could be the youngest Minister of Magic ever.”

“You’ll have to hire your dad as head of security,” Ron spoke up, sounding a bit more like normal. “He’ll just follow anyone else around otherwise, to make sure they do their job properly.”

Ron ducked neatly as Harry tossed the rolled newspaper at his head.

--

Harry and his friends were jostled as they fought their way through the narrow aisle of the long, scarlet train, hours later.

“That was my foot, Neville!”

“Er, Luna… I think something’s alive in your trunk…”

“Come on, Parvati! Mum and dad are waiting for us!”

“Oi!” Ron yelped as a first year knocked into him on her way off the train.

Harry caught his elbow before he and Pig could tumble head-first onto the platform. Somehow, they’d gotten separated from Ginny and Hermione in the fray. And by the time he and Ron had descended the few stairs, Hermione was already being hugged by Mrs. Weasley, while Ginny was receiving the same treatment from Mr. Weasley.

And right next to Mr. Weasley, looking decidedly out of place in his severe black robes, was Severus.

“Hi,” Harry greeted him with a huge grin as he stepped onto the platform. Severus didn’t have to smile for Harry to see the warm welcome in his features.

“Did you have a pleasant journey?” Severus asked as he took Harry’s trunk; Harry nodded as Severus shrunk the trunk and slipped it into a pocket.

“Yeah. Though I think I won’t eat again for a week.”

“Minerva and I have implored Albus to do away with the sweets offered on the train,” Severus said seriously.

“Be a bit hypocritical, wouldn’t it?”

“His words exactly.”

“Well, just lucky for me I know you have Stomach Calming Draught in your pockets,” Harry said, with a pointed glance at his father’s robes.

Severus obliged immediately, and Harry grimaced as the vile concoction rolled over his taste buds. “Thanks,” he managed anyway. Severus returned the empty vial to his pocket.

“Since you undoubtedly have no interest in dinner,” he began, and Harry made a face at the thought of more food, “perhaps you would like to accompany me to Knockturn Alley instead—to Daniel’s shop. I need to procure a few of the rarer ingredients which I regularly use.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed, though he was a bit surprised that his dad seemed to have no qualms about taking him to the darker side of London’s wizarding shops.

The skin around Severus' eyes crinkled, emphasizing his good humor. “I believe I can trust you to stay out of mischief?”

“Me?” Harry parroted with the most innocent expression he could muster. “I haven’t been in any sort of trouble for ages.”

“Of course, he hasn’t, Severus. Harry’s a good boy.”

Harry smiled as Mrs. Weasley engulfed him in a hug.

“You mind your father now, Harry,” she admonished as she pulled away, tapping his cheek firmly to emphasize the order.

“I will, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry promised. Satisfied, Mrs. Weasley left Harry to her husband, who shook Harry’s hand.

“Good to see you again, Harry,” he said sincerely. “Ginny told us all about your last match. Molly and I were so proud—all three of you on the team this year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Weasley.”

“Arthur,” Mr. Weasley corrected with another pat to Harry’s shoulder. “Now,” he said to his family, leaving Harry blinking slowly. “Let’s get these bags out to the car.”

“Oh, I wish we would have Apparated, Arthur. That car-”

“Now, now, Molly, dear, it’s supposed to be fun.”

A small hand snaked around Harry’s waist. He smiled down at Ginny as she leaned into his side.

“Good thing my dad likes you so much,” she teased. “I get to skip all the lectures about dating the wrong boy.”

“That’s why you’re dating me, eh?”

“Pretty much.”

Harry had to settle for taking her hand, in place of a very public kiss. “Walk you to the car park?” he asked, already feeling a tug of sadness that he wouldn’t see her every day for the next two months. He glanced up at his dad when Ginny nodded. “That all right?”

In answer, Severus waved his wand, and he was no longer wearing his robes. And though the rest of his black ensemble wasn’t exactly Muggle-chic, Harry tried not to smirk. Severus’ eyebrow rose a fraction before he turned toward the exit. With Ginny pressed firmly next to his ribs, Harry grinned and followed.

“My dad’s taking me to Hermione’s house tomorrow,” Ginny said quietly as they walked. Harry tried not to glance back at Hermione; he could just see her in his peripheral vision.

“I tried talking to Ron last night,” Harry returned, just as softly, “but he wouldn’t say what was bothering him.”

“I know it’s Hermione.”

“You know? Did she tell you something?” Harry couldn’t help glancing at Hermione that time; she was chatting with Mr. Weasley—about toothpaste, of all things. Harry turned back to Ginny when she nudged him in the ribs.

“She didn’t tell me anything, but what else could have Ron so…” she struggled for the right word.

“Grumpy?” Harry supplied with a shrug.

“I was going to say distant…”

Harry sighed. He hated the idea of his two best friends at odds with one another, but he knew Ginny was right. And really, he supposed it was actually pretty surprising that the two of them hadn’t been on the outs before this—with the way they were always fighting…

“Harry, you and I will step through together.”

Harry looked up, confused for a second until he realized his dad was waiting in front of the barrier—best to go through in shifts so as not to make the Muggles on the other side suspicious.

“Go ahead with them, Ginny dear,” Mrs. Weasley urged. Severus nodded once and the trio stepped through the brick, and continued on, without meeting any curious stares, forward through the crowded station.

Though for Harry, it was very odd to step through without the familiar dread or unease gnawing at the pit of his stomach. For the first time in five years, he wasn’t here to meet his uncle. And he wouldn’t have to hear his aunt’s frantic, nearly-shrill admonishments to get into the car before somebody spotted them. Or listen to Dudley whining that he was hot, or thirsty… or the other hundred complaints he always seemed to have.

Harry kept all his relief carefully shielded; if he felt the need, he could explain how he was feeling later—when he and his dad weren’t dodging their way around harried passengers. He smiled a bit when Severus glanced over at him.

I’ll tell you later, Harry told him silently, with a rueful shake of his head. He tended to forget that his dad could feel him shielding—not that his father had been asking really… The tiny flame beside Harry’s storm brightened briefly, the equivalent of a shoulder squeeze, before Severus turned his eyes back to searching for the end to the crowd.

They all stopped once for the Grangers, and another round of greetings, before continuing on together.

“Maybe you can invite Ron to do something,” Ginny suggested as they finally came to the car park.

Harry ducked his head, and skimmed his lips over Ginny’s hair. “I will,” he promised. “And you try to work it out of Hermione.”

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

Ginny and Harry turned to Mr. Weasley, who was steering Mrs. Weasley toward a gleaming silver Bentley.

“The headlights are an ingenious invention, aren’t they, Molly dear? I could probably figure out how to wire our house… Severus, are you familiar with this-”

“Arthur, hush. So many Muggles…”

“Oh… yes.” Mr. Weasley ducked his head sheepishly, but he was waving toward the rest of them. Probably in an effort to keep Mr. Weasley mum, everyone except Harry turned to inspect the car. Harry punched Ron lightly on the shoulder as Ron twisted to do likewise.

“Want to come over tomorrow? Ginny’s going to Hermione’s house.”

Ron’s eyes darted to Hermione’s back. “She is?” His face was uncommonly pale.

“You all right?” Harry asked, lowering his voice. He watched his friend’s Adam’s apple pulse for a few seconds. “Ron, what-”

“There you are!”

Harry’s upper arm was caught in a rough grip, and he stumbled slightly as he was jerked around. Vernon’s furious eyes glared down at him.

Reacting instinctively, even though Vernon shouldn’t have been here—they’d sent an owl to tell him not to come—Harry tried to pull away, but that only made Vernon shake him sharply.

“You’re an ungrateful little sod, you are! We’ve been waiting for nearly an hour for you! And here you are, standing around in a car park with your freakish lot!”

Harry couldn’t dodge the hot spittle as it splattered across his cheeks and forehead. As he tried to twist away again, a shadow loomed over both of them, and then a long-fingered hand was clutched around Vernon’s beefy neck.

Severus’ nose was pressed close to Vernon’s bulging eyes. “Release him,” he hissed. But before Vernon could comply, Severus yanked him so hard, Vernon’s face purpled. Harry grimaced as Vernon’s fingers sought purchase against his bicep. Severus shoved hard with the flat of his palm against Vernon’s collar, and Harry nearly fell backward. Ron’s arms stopped him.

“Bloody hell…” Ron breathed near his ear. Harry swatted at Ron’s hands impatiently as he steadied himself. His father had pressed a panting and scrabbling Vernon up against the Bentley; his fingers were inching toward his wand.

“Severus!” Mr. Weasley said sharply, touching Severus’ arm as Harry sprinted over to his father’s side.

“Dad, stop,” he said quietly, interposing himself between Vernon and his father. Severus’ eyes slid away from Vernon. The raw hatred burning through the deep black made Harry’s stomach turn. “I’m all right,” Harry said quietly, placating.

He settled a hand on his father’s arm. 

“He’s not worth it."  And where Mr. Weasley had failed, Harry reached him. Severus released Vernon. And as Harry’s uncle slithered to the ground, Severus took Harry’s arm—impossibly gently—and turned both of them away.

A few cars down, Harry could see Petunia peering at them from behind the windshield of the Dursleys’ car, and Harry could see Dudley’s head sticking out of the car window just behind her. Petunia’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Harry, being escorted; she’d obviously missed the rest of the scene. She twisted her head around. After what looked like hasty instructions for Dudley, Petunia got out of the car.

She came forward cautiously, and Harry glanced up at the heightened pressure around his arm. His father’s mouth was stretched in a severe line.

Petunia stared at Severus for a long moment. “You’re that friend of Lily’s and James’…” She shook herself and frowned at Harry. “Whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into-” she began in her more familiar shrewish tones, “Vernon and I will take care-”

“Seal your lips,” Severus interrupted harshly, “and listen carefully.”

Petunia blinked.

“Harry will not set foot in your house again,” Severus continued icily. “If the choice were mine, I would see you and your husband punished in the most painful way possible for the years of abuse you have subjected Harry to.”

Petunia opened her mouth, but then her eyes widened. “Vernon!” she cried. She skirted around Harry and Severus to bat at Mr. Weasley’s hands as he tried to help Vernon toward his car. “What happened?” she asked Vernon frantically, but Vernon only sputtered a little as he backed away from Severus.

To Harry he said, his voice too shaky to be intimidating, “You can find your own way to Privet Drive, boy.”

Harry found himself stepping a little in front of his father when Severus stiffened; he supposed he wasn’t surprised when Severus pulled him back again.

“He’s not coming, Vernon,” Petunia whispered. Behind them, Dudley leaned even farther out the window, looking like he might topple over onto the concrete.

“Not coming?” Vernon blustered, looking around confusedly.

“Vernon, let’s leave. People are starting to look.”

As she steered Vernon away, Severus said in a voice full of contempt, “Lily would be sickened to know how you have treated her son.”

Petunia turned back sharply. Vernon teetered unsteadily with the quick movement. Petunia advanced on Severus, no longer looking cowed.

“I took her son into my home, without any compensation. We didn’t want him!”

No matter that he already knew it, the words still hit Harry a bit like a fist to the solar plexus.

“Yes,” Severus said, and the air seemed to freeze around them, “you made that perfectly clear.”

“Of course I did!” Petunia shot back. “I knew what he would be. Just like Lily, with her disgusting talents, infecting us just like she did. I had to protect my family from that.”

“And that is why you locked him in a cupboard, and fed him your scraps? To protect yourselves?”

“Yes,” Petunia snapped. “Lily ruined everything,” she said, her voice nearly cracking. “I refused to allow her son to do the same.”

Harry tugged against his father’s hold, just wanting to let his aunt and uncle leave. Severus looked down at him; Harry hoped he didn’t look as desperate as he felt—he didn’t need anyone else to understand what he was feeling. Harry could see the war behind his father’s eyes, but it only lasted for seconds before he turned back to Petunia.

“You are despicable,” Severus said softly. “You have always been so. I have no idea why Lily ever cared for you. Though it was never a mystery why your parents favored her, over you.”

Petunia’s pinched lips trembled.

Severus snarled at her, and then he pivoted around, bringing Harry with him, and away from the Dursleys.

As they turned, Harry caught Dudley’s eye. He couldn’t be sure, since he’d never seen that particular expression on his cousin’s face, but… Harry almost thought Dudley looked regretful.

Harry was perplexed—and too stunned to reciprocate—when Dudley lifted his fingers in what looked like a wave-

“Hurry, Petunia…before they change their minds...” And then Vernon was blocking any more sight of Dudley or Petunia.

Severus walked with clipped steps which seemed to glance off of the ears, back to Harry’s friends, while Harry’s mind whirled with thoughts of that unfulfilled wave.

“Is everyone all right?”

That was Mr. Granger, leaning slightly toward Severus and Harry, though his body was obviously a shield to his wife and daughter. Harry wondered wryly if Mr. Granger knew that Hermione could have blasted the Dursleys to bits with one little word.

“Yes, sir, everything’s fine,” Harry answered—his dad looked a bit flayed open at the moment.

There was a stretch of unfilled silence and then Mrs. Weasley took over and began saying goodbyes to everyone. Her hug for Harry was much tighter than her first one had been. And Ginny was standing closer than she would normally in this sort of crowd. Harry sighed a little as Ron gripped his shoulder.

“So, you coming over tomorrow?” Harry asked, as casually as he could.

“Sure, mate.”

Hermione kissed Harry’s cheek, mumbled a farewell to Ron, and left quickly with her parents. Ron watched Hermione’s back until she disappeared. With slumped shoulders, he slid into the backseat of Mr. Weasley’s charmed car.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Harry promised as Ginny wrapped her arms around him. Ginny didn’t answer; she pulled his head down and kissed him softly. His initial surprise fleeing quickly, Harry kissed her back. And when Ginny pulled away, she pressed her cheek to his.

“You are loved, Harry,” she said quietly. “By many people. Don’t you forget that.”

Though he’d been largely unaware of the large knot of tension which had formed in the pit of his stomach when Vernon had first grabbed him, Harry did recognize the feeling of those muscles loosening. He pulled Ginny close. She kissed his warm cheek.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ginny whispered as she pulled away, and then she too was safely in the car. Mr. Weasley smiled at them before he slid behind the wheel. Harry and Severus stepped back to allow him room to maneuver.

Ginny and Ron both waved until they veered out of the park.

“To Knockturn Alley, then?”

“We will need to find a more secluded place,” Severus answered quietly. Harry fell in step beside him, trying not to glance at him as they walked toward the street. They had to walk for several blocks before they came to a park.

Harry turned to his father as soon as they had slipped into a shaded copse of trees. He abruptly decided not to suggest they go home. Severus was gazing at him, his features shuttered.

“I should have gone to tell them in person,” he finally said, “instead of relying on an owl.”

Harry smiled, which seemed to come out a little lopsided. “Well, owls are usually pretty reliable…”

Harry watched as his father’s jaw tensed. “Did he hurt you?”

Harry had to think for a second, where exactly his uncle might have hurt him. Right… Vernon had grabbed his arm… It felt like someone had grabbed him, and it might sport a bruise, but it was nothing to fuss over, so he shook his head.

Severus studied him for a moment; he didn’t look convinced. “I apologize for making the situation worse than was necessary,” he said, still speaking in low tones. “It was… extremely difficult to restrain myself.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if you had done something to them. I don’t think they’re capable of anything more.”

Severus closed his eyes, and Harry knew he was struggling to compose himself, even though, outwardly, he was perfectly calm.

“Dudley waved to me.”

Severus’ eyes opened slowly. “And this surprised you?”

“Dudley’s never really liked me much.”

“And I assume the dislike is reciprocated?”

Smiling to himself at his effective distraction, Harry nodded.

“You did, however, save him from Dementors, if I recall correctly…”

Harry nearly snorted. If… “Well, couldn’t let him be Kissed, could I?”

“I suppose it would have been frowned upon," Severus agreed, his lips quirking. And then, more seriously, he said, “If you wish to discuss the Dursleys, we may—at any time.”

“I know.” Harry gave his father a reassuring smile, which seemed to relax Severus considerably.

“Are you ready to Disapparate?” he inquired.

Harry nodded and stepped forward. His father’s arms came around him, pulling him close. Closer, really, than was strictly necessary to cushion the effects of Disapparating. And it took much longer than it usually did for Severus to turn on the spot.

Harry gasped a little when they reappeared—near Gringotts. He blinked up at the tall building as he caught his breath.

Severus held Harry’s elbow as he stepped away; he felt a bit wobblier than usual. “I thought we were going to Knockturn Alley.”

“It is unwise to Apparate into Knockturn Alley, since it leaves you briefly vulnerable.” He released Harry’s elbow. “Is there anywhere else you would like to go first?”

They hadn’t been to Diagon Alley since right before Christmas. Harry felt a quiet tug in his chest at the thought of Sirius; he let it linger as he glanced around the busy street. They’d already been noticed by more than one passerby, and Harry wondered if it would ever feel normal to be recognized by strangers.

“I don’t really need anything,” Harry finally answered. Severus nodded and gestured down the street.

“We can return here anytime during the summer, of course,” he said as they walked toward the shadowed street that would take them into Knockturn Alley. “Or take a trip to Hogsmeade, should you think of anything before we return here for your supplies.”

“I’ll need to think of something to buy for Ginny’s birthday,” Harry mused as they stepped onto the dirty, cobbled path. A stooped hag smiled toothily at him. Harry couldn’t be certain, of course, but he was pretty sure he had seen her when he’d been here right before second year—she even had a tray of fingers in her hands. He made sure to give her a wide berth.

“Have you anything in mind?” his father asked as they passed Borgin and Burkes.

“Not yet…” Harry’s brow furrowed as the proprietor of the creepy shop pressed his nose against the dusty shop window. His eyes seemed to want to crawl inside Harry; Harry shivered. He looked up in surprise when they stopped walking a few moments later. They were standing in front of a dilapidated-looking shop—the windows were too dark to see inside, and it wasn’t even marked.

“This is it?”

“Yes.” Severus pressed his fingertips against the small pane of glass in the middle of the closed door. “Only regular customers are allowed entrance,” he explained. “And most choose to use the Floo, rather than venture into Knockturn Alley.”

The door creaked open. Severus motioned for Harry to precede him, which Harry did, though not without a measure of hesitation—this was even weirder than Borgin and Burkes…

Harry halted just inside the door, and didn’t move until his father’s hand prodded his shoulder blade. Harry stepped forward, and the door closed softly behind them, but Harry didn’t stop staring. The room was brightly lit—and pristine. There wasn’t even a hint that dust could have ever been in this shop, in fact. There were shelves along each wall—hundreds of them, and they were all neatly filled with flasks and vials. Of every imaginable color and shape.

A short man, with a full head of gleaming silver hair and perfectly round spectacles was just coming through the door in the back. “Severus, so good to see you,” he said warmly. He reached out a wrinkled hand to Harry. “And you must be Harry,” he guessed.

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered, taking the man’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“Daniel Virala,” the man introduced himself. “Your father told you he was my apprentice during the last summer before his majority?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No need to be so formal. Daniel will do,” the shopkeeper said with a smile. To Severus, he chided, “You’ve certainly taken your time, in allowing me to meet him.”

Severus inclined his head. “The school year has kept us busy.”

“Of course,” Daniel said, accepting what sounded like an apology to Harry. “Your father,” he continued on to Harry, “very seldom writes to me unprompted, but I’ve kept up with the news. Although, I am fairly certain most of that is inaccurate… Of course, you can expect my vote, if you really do intend to make a go of becoming Minister.” He winked, and Harry found himself smiling at the older man.

“Come on into the back room,” Daniel invited, gesturing with both hands. “You’ll be most interested in my newest acquisition, Severus.”

Harry glanced at his father, who nodded. Harry followed Daniel, stepping into a room, which was divided into two parts—a general workroom and a lab, it looked like.

Daniel led them over to a corner of the workroom, which was just as immaculate as the shop. Severus stepped close to a rectangular cage sitting on a table in the corner.

“Where did you find him?” he asked, sounding surprised—and more than a little excited.

“In New York, of all places… near Niagara Falls,” Daniel answered, leaning in next to Severus, both of them with their heads bent down toward whatever was in the tank. “Though it wasn’t found by me.”

“One of your contacts?”

“No, actually. Margaret Blunt. You remember her, don’t you? She’s just returned to England.” Daniel glanced at Harry. “Healer Blunt. She was your mother’s midwife-” which Harry already knew, but he didn’t want to interrupt, so he nodded, “- I do believe James told us that she delivered you…” Daniel furrowed his brow as he turned back to Severus. “Though perhaps that was a story to go along with your cover?”

“It was not,” Severus answered, still distracted by the mystery ‘acquisition’. Daniel smiled at Severus before turning back to Harry.

“It’s a very rare reptile—called a kylaria. Its scales are used to make several different potions.” He moved aside and ushered Harry forward.

“A dragon?” Harry blurted in surprise. A tiny dragon… no bigger than Harry’s hand. It was black, except for the golden yellow tail, which ended in a rather fearsome-looking, triangular point. And when the dragon moved, its black scales seemed to shimmer as if they’d been sprinkled with golden dust. As soon as Harry came near, the little creature’s head swung around. Harry bent closer, mesmerized by its liquid eyes—as yellow as its tail.

“It is remarkable, isn’t it?” Daniel said with a nod. “It doesn’t breathe fire, though.”

Harry bent his neck to get a closer look at the regal reptile. The kylaria continued to study him.

“Be careful not to get too close—kylaria are very fond of human flesh.”

Harry pulled back abruptly, and Daniel chuckled.

Severus finally turned from the kylaria. “Do you have a buyer yet?”

“Of course not, Severus,” Daniel said. “Though, your timing was perfect. Margaret brought it to me last night. I received your owl just as I was about to send you a message myself.”

“Excellent,” Severus said with a nod.

“I have the rest of your order ready as well,” Daniel said, gesturing to a large box on the table in the middle of the room. As Severus went over to inspect the box, Daniel said to Harry, “Margaret—Healer Blunt—relocated to New York only days before You Know Who disappeared. She was a Muggleborn,” he explained.

“I did not realize she had returned,” Severus said as he inspected a tall bottle of what looked like blue mist.

“She’s taken up her position at St. Mungo’s again.”

Severus nodded as he carefully replaced the bottle of blue mist, and went onto a flask with tiny green, shrimp-shaped things floating in a clear liquid.

“Did you father tell you any stories about when he used to work with me?” Daniel asked Harry.

“Your attempts at embarrassing me will not work any better with Harry than they did with Lily,” Severus said dryly, not even looking at them.

“Whatever do you mean, Severus?” Daniel returned innocently. He leaned in close to Harry. “Severus brought Lily to meet me after they’d graduated. She particularly enjoyed it when I told her how many cauldrons exploded while Severus was with me.”

“You blew up cauldrons?” Harry asked incredulously.

“We were working with highly temperamental potions-”

“Some of them,” Daniel cut in with a laugh. Severus opened his mouth, paused and then closed it again. Daniel smiled. “He learned quickly though. Always an excellent student. My best,” he added firmly. And Harry was certain he only imagined that his father’s chest puffed out at the praise.

“Now if I could just get him to agree to partner with me…”

“In your shop?” Harry asked with surprise. “But he teaches at Hogwarts.”

“And from what Albus tells me, he has done an excellent job,” Daniel said. “But he’s truly not using all of his talents as a teacher.”

Harry eyed his father.

“As I have explained Daniel, I have no wish to leave my post.”

“Well….” Daniel gestured around the room, “…if you ever change your mind, you are always welcome here.”

Severus nodded. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Daniel said thoughtfully, “you will need to Floo back to Hogwarts… Wouldn’t want to take the kylaria back through these streets… Perhaps you’d like to carry the cage, Harry?”

Harry glanced warily at the unassuming reptile.

“I will take the kylaria,” Severus interjected, his lips quirking with amusement.

“I’m not afraid of it.”

“Well, I should hope not, Harry. He will be living in your home, after all.”

“Living there?”

“Kylaria scales are harvested live,” Severus explained.

“You’re going to skin it alive?!”

“Certainly not,” Severus answered, frowning. “The scales are plucked—and only one at a time.”

“Doesn’t that hurt it?”

“The kylaria is a male,” Daniel said. “It doesn’t hurt him. He gives his scales quite willingly, in fact, to his familiar.”

“His familiar?” Harry narrowed his eyes at the little creature, who was once again staring right back at him. “Like Hedwig… or Hermione’s kneazle?”

“Exactly,” Severus said with a nod.

“So, you were only joking then, when you said he likes human flesh?” Harry asked Daniel.

“Not at all.” Daniel smiled at Harry’s darting glance toward the kylaria. “But a kylaria won’t hurt you, not if he knows you are part of his familiar’s clan.”

“Oh.” That made sense, he supposed. As much sense as a miniature dragon-creature, who was part potions-ingredient could make…

Severus turned to retrieve the cage. The kylaria’s black wings spread open, and the little creature roared—though it sounded more like a squeak. His wings flapped loudly against the metal bars; gold shimmered as the leathery black wings caught the light.

“It seems our friend here, doesn’t want you, Severus,” Daniel said; he stroked his chin.

Severus frowned. “Harry,” he said quietly, motioning Harry forward with his fingers, “come here.”

Harry did as he was bid, and as he stepped next to his father, the kylaria tucked his wings away. He stalked forward and thrust his head between the bars.

Harry stared at it. “What’s going on?”

“He has chosen you,” Severus answered simply.

“Me?” Harry shook his head. “But you’re the one who needs him for your potions. And I already have Hedwig…”

“A bond with the kylaria won’t affect your relationship with Hedwig. And a kylaria is rather firm in its choice of a familiar,” Daniel explained. “This one will not bond with Severus now, though he should have no objection to you giving his scales to Severus…”

Harry grimaced at the idea of plucking the little kylaria, even if they said it wouldn’t hurt. The kylaria nudged his head forward again, this time making a soft sound, like a purr.

“I believe he is attempting to communicate that he would like you to take him out of his cage,” Severus said.

Harry looked between the two men.

“And you’re certain he wants to be my familiar? Maybe he’s just peckish…”

“His teeth are too small to remove any of your limbs, even your fingers,” Daniel assured him. “The latch is right on that little door.”

Harry gave the little reptile a stern look. “I’m not dinner,” he said firmly. The kylaria nudged his head further outside the cage. And with a little sigh, Harry undid the latch, and opened the door.

“Put your hand out—palm facing up,” Severus said quietly. Harry did, and the kylaria pulled its head back through the bars and walked with regal steps to the door. Without pausing, he hopped delicately into Harry’s hand. He was so light, Harry doubted he’d know the kylaria was even there, if he hadn’t been looking right at it.

Uncertain what to do, Harry cradled his hand to his chest. It would be harder to drop the kylaria that way. The kylaria curled his long tail around its body, and made himself right at home. As Harry stared down at the little dragon, he found himself wondering what Hedwig would think of his new familiar. Hopefully, she wouldn’t think he was dinner.