Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Winter 1996

"How is Katie, sir," Harry asked. It was three days after the Chaser was attacked in Hogsmeade. The Headmaster had summoned Harry to his office earlier in the afternoon for their next lesson.

"She has been transferred to St. Mungo's. She will receive the remainder of her care there," Dumbledore answered.

"Do they think she'll be alright?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Her condition is improving. The healers are hopeful she will make a complete recovery."

"Do you know who did it?" Harry inquired.

"I cannot say that I have that information," the old wizard observing Harry over the rims of his half-moon spectacles."Do you have an idea of who hurt Ms. Bell, Harry?"

"You should talk to Malfoy," Harry said at once.

"Why Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore asked gently.

"I saw him going into the bathrooms just before Katie came out acting all weird," Harry explained. "He's also acting all weird. When we went to Diagon Alley we ran into him. He wouldn't let Madam Malkin see his arm. He left his mother to do something in Knockturn Alley."

Dumbledore raised a curious eyebrow at Harry's description of the Malfoy heir's movement especially as the boy continued.

Harry blazed on, "He went into Borgin and Burkes after that. He was threatening Borgin with something. I think Malfoy has the Dark Mark."

"I doubt that Voldemort is desperate enough to need the assistance of sixteen-year-old school boys, Harry," Dumbledore said dismissively.

"He has something on his arm. He showed it to Borgin who went all pale," Harry insisted.

"That is enough of that, Harry," Dumbledore said speaking more firmly than Harry ever had ever heard. "Mr. Malfoy is no concern of yours. Your professors and I are well aware of what is going on at Hogwarts. We are here today to discuss Voldemort and how he came to power."

"Yes sir," Harry reluctantly agreed.

Dumbledore proceeded with the lesson. "In our last lesson, we discussed Voldemort's family. The next period is largely based on speculation. Merope Gaunt ran away from her family, stealing her father's ring and taking the necklace that bore Slytherin's crest. They were the last remaining heirs to the once great house.

"How Marope came to marry Tom Riddle is not exactly clear. I believe she placed him under a love potion for a time. They married and she became pregnant in short order. I believe she stopped giving Tom the love potion either thinking that Tom Riddle Sr. would have fallen in love with her, or the presence of the child would be enough to keep him there. Neither was the case. Tom fled telling everyone who would listen how he had been bewitched.

"Merope Gaunt died shortly after giving birth to her son, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Named for his father and hers respectively. He was left in the care of a Muggle orphanage in London. It is here when we meet a ten-year old Tom Riddle our story resumes."

Harry entered the memory watching as a much younger Dumbledore discussed the child Lord Voldemort with the head of the orphanage. The mistress spoke of strange occurrences, odd behaviors the boy exhibited. Harry saw these at once when they went upstairs to meet the child in question. The boy was suspicious, quick to anger, a thief, proud that he could control others. He had hurt other children that had upset him.

Dumbledore noted that all of these traits continued on as Voldemort grew older, even causing others pain. The Dark Mark burned when he wished to summon his followers. The keeping of trophies was another thing they could assume continued. Voldemort liked to have mementos of his victories. This would be something they would need to keep in mind for future lessons. Harry was dismissed for the evening. Their next lesson would be some time after the Christmas holidays.

 

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

 

"You've got to come home with us," Ron insisted.

"I don't want to be a burden," Harry whined.

"Mum's been driving me balmy all year. Ever since Dad, she has been sending more packages and everything. She wants to make this Christmas special. Everyone is coming, even Charlie all the way from Romania." Ron explained.

"They're your family," Harry argued.

"So are you if you ask Mum," Ron replied. "If she could have, she would have brought you straight to the Burrow every year."

Harry looked away from Ron to Ginny.

"He's telling the truth," the youngest Weasley confirmed.

Harry nodded, "I know." He sighed, "I just don't..."

"Want to be a burden," Ron finished. "We get it, mate. Mum will kill us if you don't come. It's the first Christmas without Dad and Sirius. Nobody should be alone."

"I won't be alone," Harry said defensively.

That wasn't true, however, he had talked to Professor McGonagall last night. Not a single other student had signed up to stay at Hogwarts for the length of the winter break. Only a very few were planning on returning early.

"You should go," Hermione urged. "Christmas might be harder than you expect. I know my mum always misses her parents more during the holidays."

Harry shrugged, "Christmas isn't that important to me, Hermione."

"But it is important to my mum," Ginny remarked. "She wants you there. She'll be disappointed if you don't come." For good measure, she added, "Neville's gran is even letting him come to stay for a few days."

Harry's head jerked to the aforementioned boy, "Really Neville?"

Neville nodded slowly. "I'll be there from Boxing Day to the day before New Year's Eve."

"Wow," Harry breathed.

Mrs. Longbottom always wanted Neville home for the length of the holidays. She wasn't opposed to him having visitors but she liked knowing where he was and in the secure wards of their home. She wanted to keep him safe as she could after what had happened to his parents after the first fall of Voldemort.

"So you'll come?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, let me tell Professor McGonagall I've changed my plans before you go owling your mum."

Instead of the annoyed expression, he expected from the Deputy Headmistress he only received a relieved smile and the offer of a ginger newt. Harry took one of the biscuits in question without comment. Apparently, his Head of House too believed he should not be alone for the holidays.

Classes ended for the term, unlike in previous years with the last lessons before holidays merely being a review, a way to keep the students busy, all of Harry's professors continued to teach new material. The one exception to this being Professor Slughorn. The Potions instructor instead asked them to brew something cheerful. There would be a prize for the person with the best choice.

"I hope you will make it to my party tonight, Harry." Professor Slughorn said as Harry ran a finger down the table of contents trying to find something that would fit the man's criteria.

"Yes sir," Harry mumbled as he read the names under his breath.

"You've missed all the others," Slughorn observed.

Harry shrugged, "Quidditch, you know. We can only get the pitch at certain times."

"Ahhhh... well, I am glad you will make it to tonight's gathering. There are some interesting people I would like for you to meet."

"Yes sir," Harry agreed settling on a Cheering Draught.

"Will Luna be coming with you," Hermione asked.

Harry nodded as he chopped his ginger root. "Is Viktor coming with you?"

Hermione frowned. "No, he isn't available. Personally, I believe he doesn't want to meet Professor Slughorn. "I've told him about how he collects people."

"I wouldn't go if I didn't have to," Harry told her honestly.

"They're not that bad, Harry. They can be sort of fun." With Harry's skeptical look she added, "The food is always really nice."

Harry snorted. Leave it to Hermione to find any possible way to defend a professor even when she didn't like them too much.

"Since Viktor can't come you should bring someone else, as a friend," Harry suggested.

"Who?" Hermione asked. "Ginny is already taking Neville."

"What about Fred or George?" Harry offered. "They could make even the worst party entertaining. Just imagine if they slipped a whole batch of canary creams into the desserts."

Hermione snickered beside herself. "I'll think about it. It’s awfully short notice."

“They’ll do it if you ask them,” Harry insisted. He hoped she brought one of them. He hadn't seen either of them since the day with Katie. It would be nice to see them not connecting them with such a horrible moment.

Harry reminded Luna of the evening’s engagement as they sat together at lunch. He thought about asking her not to wear her butterbeer cork earrings then reconsidered it. He wondered what Slughorn would say about his choice of guest or her uniquely Luna sense of fashion. That was if she didn't start talking about nargles in the mistletoe.

Luna was one of the brightest in her year, yet hadn't been invited to participate in the Slug Club. Harry could only guess it was all the strange little things that made most think she was totally mad, and he loved her all the more if that stopped the pompous Potions professor from seeing her talent.

When Harry met Luna in the entrance hall to go down to the party she had chosen to leave the butterbeer corks at home. Instead, she wore large Christmas bobbles in each ear.

"I like the earrings," Harry said kissing her.

Luna smiled airily up at him. Harry took her hand as they walked down the stairs down to the dungeon together.

"Mr. Potter," Slughorn greeted them jovially at the door to the converted Potions classroom. "I was just discussing your Potions abilities with Severus. I was just saying how much they remind me of your mother. That must be where you get your talent."

Harry shrugged, "I don't know, sir. I don't remember her. All I know about her is from other people's memories."

"Did I mention that Harry here brewed a nearly perfect Draught of Living Death during our first class?" Slughorn asked.

"No," Snape said surveying the boy.

"It was most fantastic," Slughorn said with a great deal of cheer.

"I never saw Potter as more than a competent brewer," Snape said tersely.

Harry frowned. The man didn't have to insult his abilities in front of other teachers, wasn't it bad enough when he did it when they were alone? Luna gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Harry forced his annoyance under his shields. There was no reason to get upset over something as trivial as a petty insult to keep Snape's cover.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry said stepping away, "I need a drink."

Harry moved he and Luna away to the refreshment table.

"H'llo Harry," Fred greeted, "Hi Luna."

"You here with Hermione?" Harry asked handing a bottle of butterbeer to Luna.

"Not at the moment," Fred said cagily.

Harry's brow furrowed.

"We're trying to see how long it takes for ol' Sluggy to catch on there's more than one of us," Fred explained.

Harry let out a bark of laughter drawing the attention of several others standing nearby.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

The others turned back to their conversations.

"Where is she now?" Harry asked.

Fred pointed to the corner where Hermione stood. She had a finger up at was shaking it at an elderly wizard. There was no way of knowing what the two were discussing from this distance but Hermione was debating it with great passion.

"Poor bloke used to work for the Control of Magical Creatures office," Fred explained with a shake of his head. "He made the mistake of making a joke about house elves."

There was a collective intake of breath and shaking of heads.

After several more minutes of watching Hermione ferociously gesture at the man Harry asked, "Do you think maybe we should go rescue him?"

Fred shook his head, "There's George."

Harry watched as George expertly guided Hermione away from the conversation. She joined them still fuming.

"Can you believe what he said," Hermione asked once again.

George shook his head, "Nope."

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"He implied that if our lovely Hermione grew up with house elves she would see they don't mind their treatment, “that they are naturally suited for it and enjoy the work”. She should “not let the experience with a few abnormally minded house elves make her think otherwise”.

"Just shows how little he knows about our Hermione," Fred observed.

"Precisely my point," agreed George.

"That's no way to speak about Dobby," Harry complained.

"Ahhhh...Harry, there you are," Slughorn said spotting him once more. The man stopped looking at the Weasley twins. "By Jove, there are two of you."

Fred and George grinned.

"Come, Harry, I want you to meet Eldred Worple and his companion Sanguini," Slughorn said pulling the boy away from his friends.

Harry sighed and followed, the man wanted to write a biography of Harry. His vampire companion, Sangini made Harry uncomfortable in the way he watched some of the younger girls pass by. A scuffle at the door allowed Harry to break away from the awkward conversation.

"I found him trying to sneak in," Filch told Professor Slughorn. He held Malfoy tightly by the upper arm.

"I was not," complained Malfoy. When the squib squeezed his arm he said, "Fine. I was trying to gatecrash. Let go of me," and was able to successfully jerk his arm away from the man.

"It's Christmas. Let the boy stay," Slughorn said with false cheer.

"Mr. Malfoy should learn that it not acceptable to go where he is not invited." Snape challenged taking the recently released arm in the same sore spot.

Malfoy looked like a toddler who was told they wouldn't be getting an ice cream after dinner. The boy struggled futility to get Snape to release his arm. The man's long, pale fingers tightened around the boy's bicep.

"If you think that's best Severus," Slughorn said apprehensively.

"Was poor little Malfoy not invited to the party?" joked George.

"Slughorn doesn't seem much interested in the junior Death Eater set," Hermione confirmed. "The only one who comes close is Blaise Zabini. He doesn't really count, does he? His mother is just rich and beautiful."

"And deadly," added the twins together.

As he walked away from his friends to follow Malfoy and Snape Harry did his best to listen to what his friends were saying.

"She's been married seven times never more than two or three years at a time. All the husbands die in rather strange ways,” explained Fred.

"You can't possibly think she's killed them all," protested Hermione. "For what purpose?"

"The same reason any does anything....money," replied George.

Hermione did not look convinced. "What do you think, Harry," she said turning to realize her friend was no longer there.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Luna.

"He put on his cloak. I think he wanted to try and hear what Snape was saying to Malfoy." Luna said as if it was obvious. "I'm going to see if there is any pudding. Does anybody want some?"

Her three companions shook their head in silence.

"She's a bit mad that one," George observed.

"Just what Harry needs to keep him sane," said Fred.

Harry could almost hear Hermione rolling her eyes at the boys' statements. He lost the thread of the conversation as he crossed the threshold of the cramped classroom.

"What do you think you are doing?" Snape demanded, inches from the teenager's face.

"I wanted to go the the party," Malfoy tried.

"You will have to do better than that," Snape snapped. "I have been dealing with better liars than you since before you were born."

Harry snickered, so he wasn't the only one Snape talked to like that. Snape's dark eyes shot in the dark haired boy's general direction. Had the man heard him? He couldn't have, could he? He had ears like a bat, that was certain enough.

Snape changed tactics. "What are you planning," he demanded of Malfoy his black eyes firmly fixed on Malfoy's grey ones.

"It's none of your business," Malfoy snapped back. He refused to make eye contact with his Head of House.

"None of my business," Snape repeated back. "I made your mother an Unbreakable Vow. I promised her I would keep you safe. Do you understand what would happen if I were to fail?"

"I didn't ask for you to do that," Malfoy pouted. To Harry, he sounded more like a spoiled seven-year-old rather than on the verge of turning seventeen.

"The vow was made, it cannot be undone. It would benefit you to accept the assistance you are offered," Snape warned.

“I don't need your help, I don't need anyone's help," Malfoy insisted.

Snape stepped back. "I suggest that you be more careful in the future. It was mere luck that saved the Bell girl's life. It would do you no favors to have attention drawn to yourself in regards to the death of a classmate."

Malfoy didn't respond to the comment, just stared moodily at his Head of House. Finally, the boy asked, "May I go...sir?"

Snape nodded. He watched in silence as the blonde head disappeared around the corner presumably in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Reveal yourself, Potter, " Snape said when he was sure they were alone.

Harry hesitated unsure of what to do.

"I am losing my patience," Snape warned.

Harry pulled off the cloak at once not wanting to upset the man any further.

"If you still wish to become an Auror, Potter, you will have to drastically improve your skills in observation and surveillance," Snape said acidly.

Harry stared at his shoes, the jumbled knots of string suddenly fascinating.

Snape continued to speak. "It is unwise to listen at door knobs, Potter. Partial information can be extremely dangerous. You have no context for what is being said. Acting on limited information can lead to disastrous results."

"What's Malfoy up to?" Harry dared to ask.

"If you had paid attention, I was trying to ascertain that myself," Snape said rolling his eyes for good measure.

"But he's the one who hurt Katie, just like I said. We should tell Dumbledore." Harry insisted.

"If you believe that Dumbledore is not aware of everything that happens inside this castle you are a bigger fool than your father or Black," Snape said smoothly.

"Don't talk about my dad or Sirius that way," Harry snapped.

"Mind your tone, Potter," Snape hissed. "That's ten points from Gryffindor."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "What's an Unbreakable Vow?"

"I suggest you return to the party now I am sure all your little friends are wondering where you wandered off to," Snape said avoiding answering the question.

Harry nodded, "Yes sir."

"What's going on," Fred asked as Harry slipped back into the part. He hoped nobody noticed his conspicuous absence.

Harry shook his head. He collected Ginny and Neville making their excuses with the team captain of the Holyhead Harpies before leading them all to the Room of Requirements. The room was far simpler this time, several small couches and chairs arranged in a semicircle in front of a roaring fireplace.

Harry described all he had learned. The twins being able to shed light on what and how serious an Unbreakable Vow was. If a witch or wizard actively broke such an oath, they could lose all their magic or die. Even with all this, his friends had a hard time believing Malfoy could have been the one to hurt Katie or had taken the Dark Mark, let alone be under orders from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

 

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

 

Mrs. Weasley wasn't the only one waiting for them when the youngest of the clan clambered of the fireplace at the Burrow. As promised all of the Weasley children had returned home for Christmas. Bill and Fleur would leave the day after Boxing Day to spent until New Years with her family. Charlie would be here until the youngest left back for school. Percy and the twins were commuting back and forth to work until Christmas and would only at the Burrow on Christmas Eve until dinner on Boxing Day.

To make up for their absence there were several other guests. The one Harry was most pleased to see was Remus. The werewolf looked even more drawn and scruffy than usual. His clothes were filthy when he arrived. Mrs. Weasley had forced him straight into the shower and took his all of his clothes for washing. She gave him an old set of Bill's pajamas to wear while they finished up. The taller and broader wizard's garments hung off of the exhausted werewolf comically.

"Mum, Dad's stuff would fit him much better," Bill observed.

"Of course you're right," Mrs. Weasley said to her oldest. "I don't know what I was thinking." Her voice was thick with emotion. "Let me get you something else, Remus."

"This is fine," Remus protested.

"Oi, Ron," Fred interjected, "Get Remus something to wear. Some of your kit would fit him fine."

The youngest Weasley boy hopped to his feet, taking the stairs two at a time.

"I don't know why I'm being so silly," Molly said falling into Mr. Weasley's favorite chair. "It's just clothes."

"It's fine, Molly," reassured Remus. "This is more than enough already. I shouldn't be imposing as it is."

"Don't be silly, Remus." Mrs. Weasley said wiping at her eyes, a tissue appearing from the depth of her sleeve. "We couldn't leave you out in the cold, with those...those monsters."

Harry didn't miss how the man tensed at the use of the word. He didn't say anything to Remus, waiting for his former professor to respond first.

"Excuse me, I need to check on dinner," Mrs. Weasley said moving from her chair back to the kitchen.

Once he knew she was gone, Harry said to Remus, "She didn't mean you, you know."

Remus shook his head.

"You just have..."

"Have a furry little problem," Remus supplied. "I know Molly did not mean me in particular. That there are many of my kind that truly are monsters. I have meant many of them on my mission for the Order."

"Why are they like that?" Harry asked.

"Most have lost their faith in wizard kind. They feel persecuted by their fellow wizards, that they are second class citizens." Remus explained. "Many do not trust me because I show the signs of having tried to blend into wizarding society."

"What else are you supposed to do?" Harry asked.

"Some believe we should break away from our fellow wizards and form a society of our own. One of the leaders of this school of thought is the werewolf that bit me as a child, Fenrir Greyback."

"Greyback," Harry repeated, "I know that name."

"He is a well-known werewolf he specializes in turning children," Remus supplied.

Harry shook his head. "That's not it." He played the name over in his head. "That was the name Malfoy mentioned when he went to see Borgin."

"What did Draco say about Greyback?" Remus asked.

"Nothing specific, he didn't want Borgin to sell something. He warned the man that he would have Greyback come and check on him if Malfoy needed help," Harry explained.

"You don't know what it was he didn't want Borgin to sell," Remus verified.

Harry nodded. "It must have been something that would have drawn attention to him if he were to carry it because he said he would. What do you think it could be?"

"I have no way of guessing that Harry. Borgin and Burkes sell any number of things," Remus replied.

"Malfoy is up to something though," Harry supplied. "Borgin paled when he showed him something on his arm. I think he's taken the Mark."

"I doubt that, Harry. He's a sixteen-year-old boy." Remus said skeptically.

Harry scoffed. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Voldemort has little reason to recruit underage children," Remus answered.

Harry scoffed, "Maybe it's punishment for his dad failing at the Ministry."

"Harry," Remus sighed. "Sometimes I think you spent too much fixating on Draco. I am sure the boy is up to nothing like what you are thinking."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I should talk to Tonks. She was in Hogsmeade when the attack on Katie happened. Maybe she saw where he was when it happened."

"You saw Tonks?" Remus asked, happy to change the subject of discussion.

Harry nodded.

"How did she look?" Remus asked.

Harry shrugged. "She was sort of pale, her hair was still brown."

Remus frowned.

A thought occurred to Harry, "Do you know why someone's Patronus might change?"

Remus' eyebrows rose in surprise, "Why do you ask?"

"Professor Snape said that Tonks' new Patronus looked weak. It must have changed," Harry explained.

"A Patronus might change if the person suffers a great loss," Remus said uncertainty. "Did you see what it was?"

"It looked like a big dog," Harry said. "Do you think that it changed because of Sirius?"

"Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley called, "Come and help me set the table."

Harry looked to the werewolf.

"You better go," the man said.

Harry complied, noting he never received an answer to his question. He didn't get a chance to ask Remus again as the werewolf spent much of the evening discussing the pranks they have pulled off during their respective school careers.

 

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

 

"Oi you lot," Fred said barging into Ron's attic bedroom early Christmas morning.

Harry had his wand drawn despite not having his glasses on. He wouldn't want to know what Snape or Moody might have to say about such an action. He could almost hear Moody in his head say, “Your wand would do you little good if seeing multiple copies of your opponent and shot a spell three feet off to the left of the real enemy.”

"It's just us," George said silently Disarming Harry.

"Wats goin' on," Ron grumbled as his bright orange covers were pulled off his slumbering form.

"We need your help," Fred answered.

"Wih wah," Ron said stretching his arms over his head.

His glasses now on, Harry could see that it was still dark outside. A light snow was falling on the Burrow. It was the perfect Christmas morning, Harry just wished he had been able to get a few more hours sleep. They had stayed up late the night before. The twins had slipped a little something into Mrs. Weasley's eggnog and she had entertained everyone (with maybe the exception of Fluer) with tales of her Christmases with Mr. Weasley before their children were born, or were too young for most of them to remember.

"What do you need help with," Harry asked sticking his wand into the waistband of his pajamas.

"Cooking breakfast," Fred supplied.

"Breakfast," Ron said dumbly.

"We manage on our own," George explained, "but we've never done something this big on our own. Unless you all want beans on toast, we need help."

Harry pulled on his slippers. "Is it just me you got up?"

"I'm up too," Ron said through another loud yawn.

"Quiet," Fred hissed. "We don't want to wake Mum."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Are you really that stupid?" George asked rhetorically. "It's a surprise, git."

"Dad's not here but we thought we could make her breakfast," Fred said.

"Except you don't know how to make breakfast," Harry supplied.

"I know how to make a wonderful bowl of porridge," George said sounding greatly offended.

Harry snorted as he led the small group of young men downstairs. He set to work having the other boys find him everything he would need. Aunt Petunia would be horrified to see the state of the kitchen as he prepared the works. The other could deal with the dishes when he was done.

Weasleys slowly began to drift downstairs drawn by the smells of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. Bill and Charlie had set the table saving a spot for their mother at the head of the table. Harry was certain the girls must have kept Mrs. Weasley busy upstairs until everything was ready. There was no way she didn't smell the food, or hear the occasional curse as the magical ranger reacted in a way he wasn't used to.

"What's all this," Mrs. Weasley demanded finally coming into the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas," Harry said shyly.

"We know we're not Dad, but we wanted to make you breakfast," Bill said stepping up.

Mrs. Weasley broke into tears, hugging each of her children in turn.

"Did you cook everything, Harry love?" She asked when she reached him.

Harry nodded. She pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Thank you," she kissed the top of his head.

Harry smiled, blushing slightly.

"Let's tuck in before it goes cold," Fred advised, not that it was a real concern with dishes charmed to keep things warm.

Harry's wonderful hearty breakfast was followed by present opening. Harry received another large cache of products from the twins. He had barely made a dent in the last box they had given him, with the exception of the sugar quills, those were almost gone. Luna had sent him something he had no clue as to what it could be. Neville had warned them he would bring their presents with them when he saw them after Boxing Day. Harry pulled on his new sweater (red with the Gryffindor lion across the chest). He noticed Fleur was the only one not wearing a sweater. It appeared, that Mrs. Weasley failed to make her one.

Mrs. Weasley broke down once more when one of Celestina Warbeck's songs came over the radio. It turned out, it was the song she and Mr. Weasley had danced to on their first real date.

With emotions running high a great snowball fight was organized to help relieve much of the overwhelming feelings of the day. Mrs. Weasley chose not to participate. Instead, she began working on the feast that was to be Christmas dinner. Fleur too stayed inside not wanting to be part of such a childish activity.

The fight lasted what felt like hours. Fred and George teamed with Harry, Hermione, and Charlie. Bill lead his team of Remus, Ginny, Percy, and Ron to a stellar defeat. The battered and frozen clan wandered their half-frozen bodies into the house warming themselves by the fire, talking softly over games of chess and Exploring Snap. Ginny fell asleep leaning on Charlie's shoulder as she attempted to read her book.

The wards sounded the arrival of a new visitor to the Burrow around the time Harry was considering second helpings of turkey at dinner.

"Who's that?" Charlie asked.

"That's the Minister," Percy said standing up. He ran a nervous hand down his rumpled Christmas sweater and trousers.

"What's he doing here?" demanded Fred.

Percy was on his feet welcoming the Minister of Magic into the Burrow.

"Hello all," Minister Scrimgeour greeted them all. "Mrs. Weasley, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I would like to thank Arnold's many years of dedicated service," Scrimgeour began.

George gave a disapproving snort at the comment. It was covered by the heated whispers of the others at the table. Mr. Weasley had worked for the MInistry for well over twenty years, and still, they failed to acknowledge him properly now.

"I came by to present you this," Scrimgeour removed something from the cloak pocket. "This is long overdue, an Order of Merlin second class."

Mrs. Weasley took the package from the Minister a with trembling fingers. She ran a finger over the cold metal circle adorned with ancient ruins, attached to a green and purple ribbon. "Thank you, Minister," she said her voice thick with emotion.

"I didn't mean to intrude on this special day, I just wished to convey the thanks of the grateful Ministry. Ah, you young man, you're finished with your dinner, might you show me where Arnold lays."

Harry looked to Remus who shook his head.

"Go with the Minister," Mrs. Weasley encouraged once again running a finger over the small metal circle once again.

Harry followed the large man back out into the garden. The Minister walked with a slight limp, the teen noticed as they walked along the garden wall in silence.

"You didn't come here to thank the Weasleys for their sacrifice," Harry accused breaking the heavy silence.

"No," Scrimgeour confessed. "I wanted to speak to you, Harry."

Harry watched as a garden gnome dug trying to get a worm just below the frozen soil.

"Odd creatures," Scrimgeour said noting what Harry was watching.

Harry shrugged. "Mr. Weasley always thought they were funny. It's why he never tried too hard to get rid of them."

"Harry," Scrimgeour said getting the boy's attention once more.

"I came here in the hopes you would help me."

"With what?" Harry asked.

"The public has doubts in the Ministry, they worry we are not doing a good enough job fighting You-Know-Who," Scrimgeour explained. "If you were to speak up, give them some confidence in what the Ministry is doing."

"The same people accused me of a year of being a liar." Harry held up his hand, "I have this thanks to the Ministry.” The stark white words “I shall not tell lies” practically glowing on his cold flesh. If the Ministry had listened to what I had to say and that He was back, I might still have a godfather." Harry replied.

"I am not saying mistakes were not made," Scrimgeour relented.

Harry scoffed.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me where Dumbledore goes once he's left the castle," Scrimgeour tried.

Harry shook his head. "Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. I wouldn't trust the Ministry with two knuts let alone a secret."

"Cornelius said you were Dumbledore man through and through," Scrimgeour said, "I see now what he means."

Harry nodded. "At least Dumbledore would have the presence of mind to know Mr. Weasley's name was Arthur, not Arnold."

Harry left the stunned ex-Auror and current head of the wizarding government standing in the gently falling snow beside Mr. Weasley's white tombstone.

"What was that all about," George asked as Harry came in brushing the snow from his shoulders.

Harry shook his head.

"Where's the Minister?" Percy asked.

Harry motioned vaguely back outside, the direction to the orchard and Mr. Weasley final resting place. Percy pulled on his cloak and went in search of their unexpected guest. Harry left the others sitting at the table, moving back to the living room.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked following the boy into the room.

Harry shrugged.

"What did the Minister want?" Remus asked. He carefully watched the motions of the agitated teen.

Harry let out a mirthless laugh, "For me to tell everyone what a great job the Ministry is doing, that there's no reason to worry."

"What did you say?"

Harry held up his hand, "I have the Ministry to thank for this, if they listened to me, Sirius would maybe be alive, that Dumbledore would at least get the names of the dead they are supposedly honoring right."

"How did the Minister take that?" Remus asked, there was a humorous lilt to his voice that had not been there a moment ago.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know, I just left him there."

Remus laughed, his first real laugh, Harry had heard since Sirius' death. "Lily would be proud to call you her own. She would have done much the same."

Harry was sad to say goodbye to Remus a few short hours later. Hermione and Neville arrived in the next several days. Harry informed them together of his encounter with Minister Scrimgeour. There was a mixture of horror and respect on their faces. The rest of the holiday was a blur as they all tried not to upset Mrs. Weasley. The departure of her oldest children back to their far flung jobs and youngest back to Hogwarts made her delicate temperament even more touchy.

All of them took turns using the fireplace at the Burrow to return the way they came. Each was given a firm hug and a kiss before they were allowed to leave. Harry tumbled out of the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's office last.

"Do you want to go see Hagrid with us?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head, "There's a book I need for my Defense assignment."

"Harry," Hermione chastised, "you said you finished that before the break."

Harry shrugged, "I meant to, then..."

Hermione shook her head.

"We'll tell Hagrid you say hi," Neville offered.

"Thanks," Harry said with a grin.

Harry took the stairs two at a time making to the library only five minutes before it closed. Successful in his search Harry came out with his book.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Professor Snape snapped as Harry came around the corner.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"You were running in the corridor," Snape explained.

Harry looked at the man in disbelief. Every student in the castle had done the same thing at some point. Harry couldn't remember a single a professor had taken points for it.

"I needed a book," Harry explained.

"That prevents you from walking in a civilized manner?" Snape asked.

"What’d I do now?" Harry demanded.

Snape raised a dangerous eyebrow at the question.

"You're only ever like this when I've done something particularly stupid," Harry said crossing his arms over his chest.

"I can't have done anything yet, I just got back to the castle."

"Mind your tone, Potter, or should I make it another ten?" Snape asked.

Harry did not respond.

"You do not think your encounter with the Minister of Magic deserves some form of rebuke?" Snape asked.

Harry frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"You may not be surprised to learn you are the frequent topic of discussion at Order meetings," Snape informed him.

"What does that matter?" Harry asked.

"Do you think it wise to make your ambivalence toward the Minister of Magic and what he represents so well known?" Snape asked.

"What? I should tell everyone what a great job they're doing?" Harry asked.

"I did not say that, Potter. However, it could be beneficial to have the aide of the Ministry at some time in the future."

Harry deflated, "Then what should have I said?"

"You could have taken the matter under consideration," Snape suggested.

Harry nodded, "Yes sir."

"What did the Ministry request of you?" Snape asked.

Harry sighed, "Like I said, to tell everyone what a good job they're doing, where Professor Dumbledore goes when he's left Hogwarts. I told him I didn't trust him. There's no way I would be able to know that information would stay out of the hands of Death Eaters."

"You may have more sense than I give you credit for, Harry. However, that does not mean you should your trust to all those you believe deserve it." Snape said.

Harry frowned once again, "I don't understand."

"Often times, there is much more going on then you are willing to believe or understand. We are merely pawns in a game of chess we do not control and whose rules are ever changing." Snape explained.

"So you think I should trust Scrimgeour?" Harry asked.

"I would have it so you were to consider all your relationships with the ferocity that you chase a Snitch on the Quidditch pitch," Snape answered. "You may find there is more there than you wish to believe."

Harry left the man more confused than ever. Who was he trusting he shouldn't?

 

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

 

Classes started once again on Monday, Quidditch on Tuesday. The upcoming match against Hufflepuff was to be played at the end of February. Harry hoped the rest over the holidays renewed their drive to win the cup. On his way to his first practice, Jimmy Perkins handed Harry a scroll written in a familiar tilting script. His next lesson would be in two nights.

Like all the others, this one included a trip into the Pensieve. This time Tom was older a teenager, just out of Hogwarts. He was working in Borgin and Burkes as a shop assistant. The man had sold Tom's mother's necklace to a very fat and wealthy woman Hepsiba Smith, a woman who claimed to a direct descendant of Helga Hufflepuff. She owned not only the necklace that had once been Slytherin's but a gold cup of Hufflepuff. When she died, supposedly by accidentally being poisoned by her elderly house elf both items were mysteriously missing.

Dumbledore promised this obsession with the founders of Hogwarts and their belongings would be important later down the road. They viewed another memory too, featuring a sixteen or seventeen-year-old Tom talking with a much younger Slughorn. Tom wanted to know about Horcruxes. The memory at this point became hazed a blurry version of Slughorn yelling about not knowing anything about the matter.

Dumbledore explained the haziness of the memory was because it was tampered with. He charged Harry with the task of retrieving the unaltered memory from Slughorn.

Getting the memory was much harder than Harry anticipated. It was not simply a matter of walking up the man and asking for it in (his first unsuccessful attempt). Afterward, the man did his best to avoid any chance Harry could possibly get him alone. There were no meetings of the Slug Club and the professor refused to speak to him in class.

Harry almost to the point he was going to ask Professor Snape what he should do when an opportunity presented itself. He had a chance to discuss the matter with the professor when Ron ate a package of cauldron cakes spiked with love potion of one of the girls gave Harry at Christmas thinking they were a birthday present for him. Ron had instantly become obsessed with the maker, Romilda Vane. Harry had taken Ron to Slughorn for an antidote to the potion. Ron recovered everything but his dignity.

The trouble came when Slughorn had offered them both a glass of port as a birthday toast. Ron had been the only one to drink and had nearly be poisoned to death. If Harry had not shoved a bezoar down his throat, he would have died. Harry didn't want to think about how Mrs. Weasley would react to the loss of one of her children and not so horribly long after Mr. Weasley.
Ron's recovery was not a fast one. He spent weeks in the Hospital Wing. This forced Harry let his second choice for Keeper play in the match against Hufflepuff. How the game went exactly, Harry would never know as he was knocked out by McLaggen who was attempting to show Perkins how to use his bat properly verse guarding the hoops against the opposing team.

Harry sincerely hoped by the time of his next match his team would be back to one hundred percent. He had no desire to let Professor McGonagall down having to hand over the Quidditch Cup to someone else, heaven forbid, to the Slytherins. As winter came to a close, the horrible match and those trivial worries were driven away by something far more serious.


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