“So how long are you going to ignore him?” Ron asked as they walked down the corridor, heading towards the Headmaster’s office.
“I’m not ignoring him,” Harry hedged.
“So what are you doing?” Hermione asked.
“I’m thinking,” Harry said.
“About what though?” Ron asked. “A week ago you wanted this to work out. He told us he wanted it to work out. Then he gets stabbed and you start acting all weird.”
“It got complicated,” Harry said.
“Complicated how?” Ron asked.
“It’s nothing,” Harry said.
What was there to say to the man who convinced Voldemort to kill your whole family? Harry knew that that wasn’t fair. But none of it was fair. It wasn’t fair that he had grown up without his parents, it wasn’t fair that he had a dad he didn’t know. But life wasn’t fair, he had known that since before he could count. Was it fair to blame Snape for trying to end the war, for trying to save his mother? Was it fair to forgive him for all he had done in service to Voldemort. What did Harry know of war besides what it had wrought for him. Life wasn’t fair, so maybe the only thing Harry should be thinking about was what he wanted for himself.
“Yeah well nothing had you pretty upset about something after you spoke to him,” Ron said. “And that doesn’t even cover that weirdness that came next.”
“What’s weirdness?” Hermione asked.
“It’s nothing,” Harry said.
“Oh it’s always nothing,” Hermione said. “Your arm could get lopped off and you’d say it was nothing. Was it nothing Ron?”
“It was like after the dementors,” Ron said. “You know, when he first woke up and he was all calm when he shouldn’t have been. He came back from seeing Snape and he was all upset about ‘nothing,’ and then all of a sudden it was like a switch flipped and he was all calm about it. Stopped pacing about the dorm room and just decided to go to bed. He did the same thing a couple of times last year when everyone was on him about the Heir of Slytherin thing.”
“You never said anything,” Hermione accused Ron.
“Ron doesn’t need to report to you every time I decide to go to sleep,” Harry said.
“But what happened?” Hermione asked. “And what did happen with the dementor?”
“It’s…” Harry started, but Hermione cut him off.
“If you say it’s nothing I’m going to scream,” Hermione said.
“Not in the halls,” Harry said. “That would be breaking the rules.”
“Come on Harry,” Hermione said.
Harry paused for a moment.
“I don’t really know what it is,” he said after a bit. “It’s just, one moment I’m upset or something and then I’m not, it’s like… I don’t know what it’s like. But it’s always been like that. Since as long as I can remember. It doesn’t always happen, but it’s happened all the time. Especially in the evening when I’m already tired I guess. I don’t know, it just happens. It always has. I guess it just sort of washes over me. It’s like… it’s like… being… comforted. It doesn’t solve everything, but I feel better. Or maybe I just stop feeling like the world’s coming to an end.”
But it was more than that. He couldn’t put it into words. He couldn’t tell them that it felt like sipping cocoa in front of the fire sandwiched between Ron and Hermione the previous Christmas Eve or like the end of second year when Hermione had been un-petrified and Hagrid had come back. He couldn’t tell them it felt like something he was missing. That it felt like someone had told him that everything would be alright and that he knew that it would be. He had never had that. He never would.
Ron and Hermione paused in their tracks to look at him questioningly.
“It’s weird with the dementors though,” Harry said. “It’s like going back and forth. Like I see, you know, dementor stuff in my head and then there’s peace and then it shifts back to the dementor. It’s like something’s fighting it.”
Hermione looked concerned.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Harry said.
“It’s just I haven’t heard of anything like this before,” Hermione said. “Maybe you should tell Madame Pomfrey about it.”
“Like that’ll ever happen,” Ron ribbed Harry. They started walking again. “You haven’t read all of the books in the library Hermione, maybe this is just something rare, like parseltongue.”
“I had read about parseltongue before I even got here,” Hermione said. “And some strange magical happenings that affects the mind isn’t something that should be overlooked.”
“Who said it’s magical,” Harry asked.
“Yeah,” Ron said. “Harry’s probably just a nutter.”
“Hey,” Harry said. “You’re a nutter.”
“Yeah,” Ron said. “But I have to deal with the twins so I have an excuse.”
“Fair enough,” Harry said.
“It’s magical,” Hermione said forcefully. “Because it fought the effects of a dementor.”
“So does chocolate,” Harry said.
“Are we sure chocolate isn’t magic?” Ron asked.
“Good point,” Harry said. “Hermione might be right. This might just be magic.”
“Hermione is right,” Hermione said.
“Now see what we’ve done,” Ron said. “Now Hermione’s gone nutter and she’s forgotten that she’s Hermione and she’s talking about herself.”
“It’s really nothing to worry about Hermione,” Harry said. “I can remember it happening as far back as when I was like five.”
“And you’ve never noticed any other symptoms?” Hermione asked.
“Nope,” Harry said. “I usually don’t even realize it’s happened until later in retrospect.”
“Well it’s not normal,” Hermione said, though it sounded like she was willing to drop it.
“Never been normal I guess,” Harry said looking down.
“I don’t mean that as a bad thing against you,” Hermione said.
“Yeah mate,” Ron said. “If you’d been normal You-Know-Who would’ve probably killed you in first year. No point in normal I say.”
“I think we’ve gotten off topic,” Hermione said.
“What’s the topic?” Ron asked.
“The topic is that it’s been a week and Harry hasn’t said so much as one word to Professor Snape.”
“I have too,” Harry said. “I was telling him when various ingredients were ready yesterday in the lab.”
“Fine,” Hermione said. “You’ve just been ignoring the fact that you and he both know that he’s…” Hermione looked around before whispering. “That he’s your dad.”
“Yeah, well, it got complicated.”
“Do you still want things to work out with him?” Ron asked.
“It’s complicated,” was all Harry could think to say as they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster’s office. That about summed up how he felt anyways. “I’ll see you two later.” Harry said.
“Think about it,” Hermione said as the two turned around.
Harry wanted to say that all he did was think about it, but instead he said “Acid Pops.” He could hear Hermione now talking to Ron about looking up mind magics.
Harry rode the spiral staircase and was greeted with, “Come in Harry,” as he reached the top of the stairs. The headmaster sounded old and Harry did not think he was going to get to hear about any grand plans for a Dursley free summer vacation. Harry opened the door and walked inside, his stomach in knots and his eyes not rising above the headmaster’s desk and the tea service that sat on top.
“Have a seat Harry,” the headmaster said. Harry felt like he was to be executed. He sat down.
“I’m to go back to the Dursleys, sir,” Harry said, not even bothering to make it a question. He couldn’t settle on anger or despair.
“It is where you are safest, Harry,” the headmaster said.
“They won’t take me back,” Harry said. “They don’t want me.”
“I have already taken care of the matter,” the headmaster said.
And Harry had to wonder then just how that conversation had gone.
“Did you even look into other options, Professor?” Harry dared.
“Extensively,” the headmaster said sadly. “I had thought there might be a way, but it seems that that avenue is closed to you.”
“Would the wards matter if I wasn’t the boy-who-lived?” Harry asked.
“The wards would not matter if there had not been twelve attempts to bypass them in the first month you lived with the Dursleys; twelve attempts that we know of. They have withstood a good many attempts since then, including two made a week after you returned from your first year, and of course they protected you this past summer.”
No one had bothered to tell Harry any of this before, of course. “I’m safe here at Hogwarts,” he said.
“And yet Quirinus Quirrel would have killed you in your first year if the protection you received from your mother had not been reinforced by the time you spent under those wards,” the headmaster said patiently. “And that is perhaps the most important reason you must return. That protection must be renewed every summer if you are to survive Voldemort’s next attempt on your life. He will not stop Harry. He will always come back for you, and I am very determined that you shall have every protection.”
Harry’s chest tightened at the thought of Voldemort coming after him again.
“It stopped him from touching me,” Harry said. “But it doesn’t stop anyone else. And why does he want to kill me so bad? That stupid prophesy already happened didn’t it? Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”
If the headmaster was surprised that Harry knew about the prophesy, he didn’t show it.
“Even without the prophesy Harry,” the headmaster said gently. “Voldemort has relied long on fear to control others. That you lived when he had decided that you should die is not something that he will ever let pass.”
“What if I don’t care?” Harry asked. “What if I’m willing to take my chances? What if I’d rather live on the streets?”
“Then I would need to assign several people to follow you around those streets,” the headmaster said. “You must be protected.”
Harry’s stomach dropped at the thought of it, a street covered in blood and shaded by the skeletal wings of the specter of death as he was whisked away from carnage and bloodshed as others died in his place.
“No,” Harry said. “No. No more. What does it matter? Just ‘cause I’m the blasted boy-who-lived? What’s the point of risking one person to protect another?”
“One month, Harry,” the headmaster said.
“What?” Harry asked.
“One month,” the headmaster repeated. “That should be enough to renew the protections. One month in that house, and then there will be alternate arrangements for the rest of your summer.”
Harry felt as though he were crumpling as he realized that he was going to give in. That he would go back. He sat there in silence.
“Can I go now headmaster?” Harry asked.
“Yes Harry, you may,” the headmaster said.
Harry left the headmaster’s office and wandered the halls aimlessly. He flashed a smile and an ‘mmhmm,’ to a passing Hufflepuff who asked if he was alright, and he ignored the Slytherin who howled like a wolf as he passed by. He wound up in the unlit Arithmancy classroom where he sat up against the wall in the back staring absently at the equations on the blackboard.
Unbidden, memories of the Dursleys arose in his mind, reframed for the coming summer. From there his thoughts turned to more dangerous territory, to the could-have-beens. He imagined going home for the summer to live with his mom and dad. He imagined hugs and backyard quidditch and meals that came with seconds and left him feeling full. He imagined introducing his friends to them and showing Ron and Hermione his room. A room that wasn’t a place for cast off things.
As he wiped silent tears from his eyes his thoughts turned to the letter his parents had written him. The love that had been there. He would do anything to feel like that in real life. And what if he could? Summer with his mom and dad turned to summer with Professor Snape.
These daydreams tended to involve more potions than the others but that was alright, because here, Professor Snape wanted to spend time with him. They’d prepare very precisely made dinners together, and Professor Snape would help him with his summer homework instead of forcing him to hide it. He would tolerate Harry’s friends being over, even if they were all Gryffindors, and the professor and Harry would play chess in the evenings, or maybe just sit in the same room together reading books in comfortable silence. It was just a fantasy though.
From there he started contemplating a childhood with the man. Would Professor Snape have slapped him for coming to him in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm? Would he have still carried Harry around long after he had learned to walk? Would Harry have feared the man growing up, or would he have felt safest when he was with him? He imagined toy broomsticks and Christmas mornings and the feeling of safety. He imagined being loved.
It was getting late, and Harry needed to go get his potion. He thought about using the gloves in his pockets but decided to walk the long way, thinking about the man he was about to see as he walked the halls.
Harry passed Draco Malfoy on his way down and was relieved when the other boy ignored him as had been usual lately. Harry briefly wondered if the boy actually felt bad for starting a rumor that had gotten Harry poisoned. Harry was still eager to get payback on the quidditch pitch for that.
Harry knocked on Professor Snape’s office door and received a curt ‘come in.’
“I’m here for my potion, sir,” Harry said.
“Yes, of course,” Professor Snape said, his expression and his voice neutral. “Just one moment.”
The professor went to his storeroom and Harry took a seat at the man’s desk. Professor Snape paused when he re-entered the room, clearly not expecting Harry to stick around.
“Why did you tell me all that stuff?” Harry asked.
“You deserved to know the truth,” Professor Snape said, placing the glass vial on the table in front of Harry, who shook his head as he picked up the purple sludge.
“You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t told you you were my father,” Harry said.
“No,” Professor Snape agreed. “I would not have.”
Harry downed the contents of the vial before he asked his next question.
“Did you tell me so I’d leave you alone?” Harry asked.
“No,” Professor Snape said. “I told you because I couldn’t let you get attached to me without knowing the truth.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” Harry asked.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” Professor Snape said.
“Yes it does,” Harry said. “What do you want, Professor?”
“I want to do right by you,” Professor Snape said.
“I don’t want to be your obligation,” Harry said.
“That’s not what I meant,” Professor Snape said looking frustrated and unsure of himself. He sighed. “I want to get to know you. If that is what you want.”
“Why did you stop hating me?” Harry pressed on.
“I never hated you,” Professor Snape said. “I hated your… I hated James.”
“It sure felt like you hated me,” Harry said. “Why did you hate him so much? Because he married my mum? Or was it because he was a bully in school?”
“I hated him because he had failed the same way I had failed,” Professor Snape said bitterly. “And it was so much easier to hate him.”
“What?” Harry asked.
“He too had thought to fool the dark lord,” Professor Snape said. “Your family was to be protected by the Fidelius Charm. A protection so powerful that the only way to find you was if the trusted Secret Keeper revealed the location. Your godfather was to be that Secret Keeper, and loath as I am to admit it, he would have died before he betrayed you. He was also the obvious choice. Your father decided that another friend was to be the Secret Keeper, he thought that he could fool the Dark Lord, but he told his spy exactly where to find them.”
“He was trying to protect us,” Harry said.
“Yes,” Professor Snape said. “He was.”
“Why did you stop hating me?” Harry asked.
“I didn’t…” Professor Snape started but Harry cut him off tenuously.
“Please don’t,” Harry said, and he had to hide the desperation from his voice, because at that moment no question could have mattered more to him. “Why did you stop?”
Professor Snape took a deep breath and finally took a seat behind his desk.
“There is a magic of the mind called occlumency,” Professor Snape said. “I used it during the war to protect my true allegiances from the dark lord. Occlumency gives one a level of control over one’s own mind. I could control, to an extent, what was in the forefront of my own mind and therefore the dark lord could not see what I did not want him to see. Occlumency also gives me a sort of clarity. Put simply, it is difficult to lie to oneself when one is occluding properly.
“On the train at the start of term,” Professor Snape continued. “When the dementor boarded I found myself unable to cast the Patronus Charm at first. I started occluding for the first time since the war ended. I found clarity. After that, I saw myself for who I had become. I saw you for who you are. I saw that you were far from the caricature of James Potter that I had in my head. I saw that I didn’t know you at all. I saw a lot, and none of it made me proud. I have been attempting to change myself since then.”
“Do you still hate him?” Harry asked.
“I do,” Professor Snape said.
“Does that mean you…” Harry couldn’t complete the question, he couldn't ask the man if he hated himself for what had happened Halloween night. “I think my mum would have forgiven you."
“Yet she is not here to do so,” Professor Snape said.
“But I am,” Harry said. “You were trying to stop the war. You tried to protect my mum. I can’t hate you for that. Even if it went wrong. You didn’t kill them; you didn’t betray them. They’re not here to forgive you, but I am.”
Professor Snape didn’t say anything and there was a silence for a while. Harry found himself staring at the desk while he waited for some sort of reaction from the professor.
“Is that what you want?” Professor Snape asked.
Harry nodded.
“I truly was blind,” Professor Snape said.
“Sir?” Harry asked, looking up at the man.
“I looked at you and saw your father,” Professor Snape said. “I should have seen how much of you comes from your mother,” Professor Snape said.
Harry blushed at the compliment, a warm feeling in his chest even as he thought to himself that he hoped that the professor didn't look at him too closely.
“Dinner is almost upon us,” Professor Snape said. “Perhaps you would care to join me in my quarters. I would like to get to know you better.”
“Okay,” Harry said, full of trepidation and hope. "Is that what you want?"
"It is," Professor Snape said. "Is that what you want?"
Harry nodded and they turned towards the door.
"Will your friends be concerned if you do not show up for dinner?" Professor Snape asked.
“Oh,” Harry said. “They’ll probably think I’m skipping meals again.”
“What?” Professor Snape asked.
“Huh,” was Harry’s reply.
“Skipping meals,” Professor Snape prompted.
“Oh, you know,” Harry said. “Studying. Where does the time go?”
“I’m afraid I do know,” Professor Snape said. “Let’s avoid that in the future.”
“Sure,” Harry said. “So…dinner.”
“Yes,” Professor Snape said. “Right this way.”
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Dinner with Professor Snape had been odd. Nice, but odd. With everything between them, the comfort that had developed while they had been working on Harry's project seemed to be gone. Or not so much gone as it was out of reach for the time. Still, there was plenty to talk about and the food was good. Being in a professor's quarters was surreal though.
Afterwards, as Harry made his way to the library, he wound up crossing paths with Oliver Wood.
“Hey Olie,” Harry said as the older boy switched routes and matched pace with Harry.
“Harry, um, good,” Oliver said awkwardly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all week.”
“There’ve been like five practices this week,” Harry said. “Also, we sort of live together.”
“Right,” Oliver said. “It’s just, I keep putting it off.”
“Is this about the match?” Harry asked. “I’m really sorry, really I am. I know how much this means to you.”
“Oh,” Oliver said. “You don’t need to apologize or anything. It wasn’t your fault. But, you know, if this next match goes right it could keep us in the running. I just... with the dementors and everything, I need to be sure. We can’t afford to lose another match.”
Harry swallowed. “Are you cutting me from the team?” he asked tremulously.
“No,” Oliver said quickly. Quick but unsure. “You’re the best damn seeker I’ve ever seen and you’re a part of the team no matter what. But I need to know if I should be looking for a reserve seeker.”
“I’m taking care of it,” Harry said. “I’ve arranged lessons with Professor Lupin. I’m going to learn this Patronus Charm thing.”
“Really,” Oliver said, a relived smile coming up on his face. “That’s great, oh that is good. Okay, and that’ll fix it, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know how the lessons go,” Harry said, sounding a lot surer than he was. “But, you know, feel free to look for a reserve, as long as, you know, they’re a reserve. Um…”
“Hey,” Oliver said. “There’s no replacing you. Sorry if that was weird.”
Harry shrugged. “There’s a lot at stake.”
Oliver grinned. “Put any thought to doing quidditch camp this year? France is great over the summer.”
“I don’t think it’s happening,” Harry said. He’d be stuck at the Dursley’s while Angelina and Katie flew over a white sand beach.
“Oh well,” Oliver said. “Anyway, you’re heading to the Library?”
“No rest for the wicked,” Harry said.
“I hear you,” Oliver said. “See you, then.” He turned back to head towards Gryffindor Tower.
“See you,” Harry said.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
“Where’ve you been? You missed dinner,” Ron accused as Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the Library. Hermione had reached a bit of a block in her Arithmancy project and Harry and Ron were helping with the research. The table was littered with crumpled up bits of parchment and tomes that definitely wouldn’t fit in any of their book bags. There were also a couple of books on magics that affect the mind that have been left to the side for now.
“You need to eat this,” Hermione said, handing Harry a plate of chicken and rice with vegetables. A true testament of her concern, if she was bringing food into the library.
“I take it Dumbledore said you have to go back to the Dursleys,” Ron said.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “He did, but I didn’t skip dinner.”
“Oh come on Harry, you need to eat something,” Hermione said, gesturing with the plate.
“I had dinner with Professor Snape,” Harry said.
“Really?” Ron asked.
“Really,” Harry said.
“So things are good?” Ron asked.
Harry shrugged.
“Still complicated?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“But what about the Dursley’s,” Ron asked. “Isn’t staying with Snape still on the table.”
Harry shrugged. “The headmaster’s pretty insistent that I be protected by the blood wards. Something about recharging the protections my mum left on me. It’s only for a month though so…”
There wasn’t much ‘only,’ about a month with the Dursleys, but Harry wasn't going to make a big deal of it to his friends. They worried enough as it was, and the last thing Harry wanted was for them to go to McGonagall or the headmaster with their concerns.
“Well, you still shouldn’t have to go back,” Ron said. Hermione nodded in agreement.
“Did he even ask what goes on there that you don’t want to return?” Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head and mumbled, “There’s nothing going on.”
“But what about Snape?” Ron asked.
“We’ll see,” Harry said. “I don’t know. I don’t know where this is going with Professor Snape and… I’m not going to get my hopes up, so I’m just going to see where this goes. Also, well, people do keep trying to kill me, so…”
“Well, we could always kidnap you again, if you need it,” Ron said.
“Thanks,” Harry said. That really did mean a lot, even if he’d never allow it. If people were trying to get to him, then he had no business being around Ron or Hermione outside of the strongest protections on the planet. Even if the Dursley’s were being worse than normal, Harry wasn’t going to involve his friends, his mind was made up on that. Harry had to wonder again how Dumbledore had convinced them to take him back and how upset they would be after how things had been left the last time.
“Come on,” Harry said. “Let’s get to work. Hermione’s Arithmancy project isn’t going to research itself and there are way too many books in here.”
“Harry, there is no such thing as too many books,” Hermione said.
“But there is, Hermione,” Harry said. “There is such a thing as too many books.”
“Tell that to Lockhart’s publisher,” Ron said.
Hermione flicked a ball of parchment at Ron while Harry scowled at the memory of the man.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Harry knew of the prophesy. He would be going back to the Dursley’s and that was one massive divergence avoided, but Harry knew of the prophesy, and Albus had damaged their relationship by having to insist the boy go back to his distasteful relatives.
Albus brainstormed and plotted and did his best to determine how best to keep things afloat. How to make sure Harry stayed on the right path, never mind that it seemed that they were no longer on the map. Yet Albus was confident that he could keep things moving along. Voldemort would die, and Harry would live, and if Albus was very lucky, he himself would still be around when all was said and done.
He became aware as Severus was deposited at his doorstep.
“Come in Severus,” he called out.
“You wanted to see me Headmaster?” Severus said as he walked into the office.
“I did,” Albus said. Severus accepted a cup of tea and declined a lemon drop as the two exchanged pleasantries, as much as Severus tolerated pleasantries.
“I was surprised to find that Harry was aware that there was a prophesy,” Albus said when they were settled.
There was a pause.
“It came up,” Severus said.
“Did it indeed?” was Albus’s response.
“He is my son,” Severus said. “Though I do believe you already knew that. My surprise from a week ago, was it not? It is good you warned me. Though Harry did a good job of explaining the situation.”
“Were you so caught up in the circumstances of his birth that you felt the need to tell him of the prophesy?” Albus asked with only a hint of reproach. Severus did not know the second half of the prophesy, and would not understand why Albus would have reason to hide it. As far as Severus was concerned, the second half of the prophesy had come to pass that Halloween night. That too, it seemed, was Harry’s thought on the matter.
“It was necessary that he understand my hand in that night,” Severus said.
Albus did not need to ask how that had gone. It completely explained why Harry had not requested to live with Severus when he had asked to be removed from the Dursley’s custody. Yet while it was sad, it was for the best.
“Your hand was an innocent one,” Albus said kindly.
Severus only sighed and sipped on his tea.
“Please do tell me if there are any other developments where Harry is concerned,” Albus said.
“You would be the first to know,” Severus said.
Albus changed the subject after that, and Severus left after a time to patrol the halls. Yes, there was a divergence, but matters were being corrected, largely on their own. Yes, everything was manageable. Albus still had control.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
The week progressed with a buzz of excitement as the second quidditch match of the season approached. The upcoming match was important to determining if Gryffindor still had a chance for the quidditch cup. Basically since Gryffindor had lost to Hufflepuff in the first game, Hufflepuff would have to lose to Ravenclaw in the second, and then Ravenclaw would have to lose to Gryffindor. With luck Ravenclaw and Slytherin would end their match fairly close in terms of points and then of course Slytherin would have to lose to Gryffindor. In the end, if every team lost at least one game, it would all come down to the point spread. Oliver did try to find a reserve seeker that week, but no one was really up to scratch.
Harry was still working with Professor Flitwick on his wards project. Messing around with this sort of magic wasn’t the sort of thing he could do unsupervised. Most things didn’t work with the project, but a few things had worked out so far and Harry was happy with the results. Between that and quidditch practice Harry wound up pulling a couple of late nights to get his homework done. Harry was doing alright in Arithmancy, though Ancient Runes was a headache and a half, but Harry was scraping by. Speaking of headaches though, Harry still had no idea how Hermione was managing all of her classes and projects and he tried not to think about it too much. He also squeezed in a couple of meals with Professor Snape during the week.
Harry was still managing to keep up with the defense study group though the hand to hand self-defense that Benjamin was teaching him still left Harry anxious with memories of his first lesson, but it was definitely something he needed to learn. That Thursday, before the study group, Harry arranged to meet with Professor Lupin on Sunday evening to work on the Patronus Charm, and very counterintuitively, Harry had also agreed to go flying with Cedric Diggory Sunday afternoon. He had wanted to say no, thinking about all the time the quidditch match would take and all the homework he would have to fit in between everything, but Cedric was a nice bloke and Harry had a hard time saying no. Who knew, it might be fun.
Finally, Saturday arrived, and with it the quidditch match. Gryffindor was cheering on Ravenclaw while many in the Slytherin section were actually sporting Hufflepuff pendants. There was a blond blur waving one and Harry couldn’t imagine that it could actually be Malfoy, even if he was the right size.
The game started out in Hufflepuff’s favor and they took a quick and decisive lead much to Harry’s dismay. However, the sky was overcast and there was no sun to shine on the snitch. As the game dragged on Ravenclaw started reclaiming the difference. Two of Hufflepuff’s chasers and one of their beaters were second years, and they didn’t seem to have the stamina of the older Ravenclaw players, something Harry hadn’t been able to notice during the previous game.
The seekers were a different matter. Between the two of them, Cedric Diggory seemed to be the more skilled flyer, while Cho Chang was the more tactical player. She managed to twice trick Cedric with a feint and both times it seemed timed and placed to draw Cedric towards the Ravenclaw beaters. Cedric came close to being knocked off his broom both times, but he very skillfully evaded the bludgers.
Harry kept a close eye on his watch as the game wore on. It wasn’t that the game wasn’t exciting or engaging, but he had rather a lot of homework to be working on and far too many commitments for the weekend. The game ended without much lead-up. Ravenclaw had managed to surpass Hufflepuff by twenty points when Cho Chang caught the elusive snitch. There was no neck to neck chase. Harry rather thought that she had spotted the snitch and just casually gotten close before a short burst of speed had the snitch in her hand.
Cedric and Cho Chang shook hands before Cedric went to commend the Ravenclaw team captain. Harry looked at his watch before looking over at Professor Snape. He thought he just had time to go rib him about Slytherins wearing Hufflepuff colors before he absolutely had to get back to his homework. His stomach rumbled. Actually, lunch should probably come first.
He excused himself from his friends and had made his way towards the teacher’s section when he spotted Professor Snape exiting towards the grounds. He had about caught up when he noticed that Professor Snape was walking with Professor Lupin, and it did not look like they were having a friendly chat. Harry drew back a bit as he heard Professor Lupin say, “I had nothing to do with it Severus.”
“You may have the headmaster fooled, but not me,” Professor Snape said darkly. “Who better would it have been to keep Greyback ahead of Black’s investigation. Who else had such a connection to the man. And who else could have warned the beast of our trap.”
“I want Greyback caught as much as you do,” Professor Lupin said coldly.
“Don’t think I have forgotten the past,” Professor Snape said. “And don’t think I’m blind now. Just give me a reason, and I’ll see to it that you two share the same fate.”
With that Professor Snape lengthened his stride and left Professor Lupin behind him, with Harry still behind Professor Lupin.
That had been entirely too reminiscent of Professor Snape’s interactions with Quirrel. Why did Professor Snape think Professor Lupin was working with Greyback? Had his dad just been really bad at picking friends? Harry had a sinking feeling when he thought about the patronus lesson he had the next day.
Professor Lupin hated Greyback. That had been clear when they were talking about him. Could Harry have been so easily taken in or was Professor Snape just suspicious of the defense professor who had once been his enemy at school. There wasn’t even any real evidence that Greyback had actually been tipped off about the duplicity of the week prior. It seemed that everything was just determined to become more and more of a headache.
He went to the Great Hall and had a very quick lunch before he went to the library to work on homework with Ron and Hermione. Harry was entirely too distracted by what he had just overheard and was very unsatisfied with his progress when the time came to go to the dungeons to work as Professor Snape’s lab assistant. The way he saw it though, Professor Snape had a good track record of sniffing out untrustworthy professors, and it did seem that the defense professor was always up to something.
Harry worked diligently and cleaned up quickly in the end, though he still had to wait for Faisal to finish going over notes with Professor Snape long after Arianna had left. Harry wondered if he should bring up Professor Lupin. He didn’t want to tell him that he had been eavesdropping.
“That was some game, huh professor,” Harry said with Faisal on the way out.
“It was,” Professor Snape said. “Gryffindor, it seems, still has a chance at the cup.”
“More than a chance, I’d say,” Harry said with a bit of bravado. “I was interested to see the Hufflepuff pendants in the Slytherin section. We didn’t even see that when Hufflepuff played Gryffindor.”
“As it turns out there have been a few tentative ties developing between our houses,” Professor Snape said. “The headmaster has been going on about inter-house unity. It is time for some to stop living in the past.”
“I might have thought there would sooner be ties between Slytherin and Ravenclaw,” Harry said. “Slytherin’s always seemed to tolerate Ravenclaw best in the past.”
“Oh there are ties there as well,” Professor Snape said. “But today Hufflepuff and Slytherin had reason to cheer towards a common outcome. Alas though, it was not to be.”
“You’re all plotting against Gryffindor, aren’t you,” Harry accused.
“We just might be,” Professor Snape said. “I can’t think of any ties between our houses.”
Harry grinned shyly.
“Speaking of which,” Professor Snape said. “I was wondering if you should like to take dinner with me this evening.”
Harry frowned.
“I’d really like to, professor,” Harry said nervously. “But I’m lousy with homework, and I’ve got a special class tomorrow and I told Cedric I’d go flying with him and Ron and I’ve been helping with Hermione’s research and I’ve got to do a bit of a writeup before my next experiment with Professor Flitwick sooo… Monday?”
“Yes, I should like to see you Monday evening. It will be the full moon,” Professor Snape said. “You do have a rather large workload don’t you. How is your project coming?”
“Oh it’s going well,” Harry said. “I, um, sort of started it so I could spend time with you, you know.”
“You don’t say,” Professor Snape said dryly, and Harry realized that he had probably never had the professor fooled.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “But it’s actually a really cool project, so there’s that… Anyway, I’ve got to go. They haven’t figured out a way for homework to do itself yet, unfortunately. They haven’t right?”
“No I do not believe that they have,” Professor Snape said.
“Oh well,” Harry said. “See you, professor.”
“Enjoy your evening Harry,” Professor Snape said. “If you can.”
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Harry and Hermione didn’t stop working for some time, and Ron, with his smaller work load stayed up with them for a while playing gobstones with his sister. They didn’t get up to their dorms at anything approaching a decent hour that night. When they did manage though Ron had a nasty surprise.
“Scabbers!” he said in alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked as the other boys in the dorm stuck their heads out from their curtains.
“It looks like he went twelve rounds with a cat,” Ron said in concern. “What happened to you, little guy?”
“Is he alright?” Harry asked. Scabbers had been looking poorly for a while and Harry would have been surprised if the rat could look at a cat without falling over dead.
“I don’t know,” Ron said. “His fur’s matted with blood. It’s mostly dry though, who knows when this even happened. I don’t think I’ve seen him since yesterday. He’s always sleeping you know.”
“Percy knows some healing stuff doesn’t he?” Harry asked. “He can take a look before you can see Hagrid tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” Ron said, heading for the door. “Percy’s going to kill me. He’ll check you over buddy. What happened, huh? I don’t want to have to leave your cage locked up.”
Ron made his way upstairs to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory.
Harry had gotten ready for bed and closed his eyes before Ron got back with Scabbers.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
The chess piece Ron was working on crumbled to dust. Ron sighed and blew the dust off of the table and onto the common room floor. Oddly enough, Ron’s project was probably the hardest one that any of them were working on. The past couple of days he had been getting more and more frustrated at the block he seemed to have hit. Ron kicked his feet up on the table, clearly done with his project for the day
“So how’s scabbers?” Harry asked.
“Percy said it was all mostly superficial,” Ron said. “He’ll be alright. I just wish I knew how it happened.”
“Well I’m sure he’ll be back to his good old self in no time,” Harry said.
“So how’re you doing?” Ron asked Harry.
“Well I’m done with my homework, and I think I know how I’m going to do my writeup but I still need to finish 'The Numbers of Life,'” Harry said as he rolled up his transfiguration essay.
“I meant with Snape,” Ron said.
“Oh,” Harry said. “I’m going to have dinner with him on Monday.”
“So it’s alright?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I guess.”
“Is it still complicated?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “But it’s a complicated I can work with. Everything's been complicated lately.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” Hermione asked.
“Ummm,” Harry said. “I found out why Voldemort wanted to kill me.”
“Wait,” Ron said. “You mean before the whole boy-who-lived thing?”
“When I met him in first year he sort of told me that my mom wouldn’t have died if she hadn’t been protecting me,” Harry said.
“So why’d he have it in for you when you were a baby,” Ron asked.
“There was a stupid self-fulfilling prophesy,” Harry said. “Said I’d be a danger to him. He only heard the first half though. I guess the rest of it would have told him it was a bad idea to try to kill me.”
“Are you okay?” Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. “Yeah. It’s just. It was some stupid self-fulfilling prophesy crap, and then one of my parents friends told Voldemort where to find them and he’s dead too but… It’s just a mind warp, you know. I feel like all year I’ve been swamped with all these what-if thoughts. Like what if they’d lived, or what if Professor Snape had raised me, or you know, what if I was just a normal kid.”
“Well that’s alright, but what’s your what-if that could actually happen in the future? Something you could work towards?” Hermione asked.
“Um…what if...I had less homework?” Harry said.
“I meant big picture,” Hermione said.
“Umm…” Harry said drawing out his words. “What if... Professor Snape was to… you know, really become my father. Like really be my father and what if I really didn't have to go back to the Dursleys and what if Greyback got struck by lightning tonight and what if I never ever see a dementor again, and if I could just for a moment this year feel like I’m on top of all of my schoolwork that would be perfect.”
“I’ll start looking at weather spells,” Ron said.
“Well don’t summon any thunderstorms now,” Harry said. “I have to go flying with Diggory soon.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Hermione said. “You have to go play on your racing broom.”
“Is little Harry nervous to go on his first play date?” Ron asked.
“What can I say? It really is my first play date. I’m just so full of nerves, should I bring flowers?” Harry asked sardonically. “Also there’s the work I’ve got to do, but mostly… no, no it’s the work. Yeah, it’s the work.”
“Yeah well next time don’t let Hermione talk us out of taking a cushy class like divination,” Ron said.
“Hey,” Harry said. “I rely on you to stand up to Hermione.”
“You’ll both thank me when you graduate,” Hermione said.
“Who says I’m graduating,” Ron said. “I figure I can get by with just my OWLs.”
“What?!” Hermione shrieked. “Ron no…”
Ron started laughing.
“What’s this?” a twin asked, coming up to the trio.
“Is Ronnie playing a joke?” maybe Fred asked.
“Ron’s planning on quitting school after his OWLs,” Hermione said, panicked.
“High five,” the twin that Harry was pretty sure was George said.
Ron gave George a high five.
“No,” Hermione said. “Not high five. Ron you can’t quit school.”
“Hermione, I was joking,” Ron said.
“Oh,” Fred said, disappointed.
“But good joke,” George said, ruffling Ron’s hair. “Knew you had to have a sense of humor somewhere.”
“Wait,” Fred said. “Let’s check. Okay Ron, now, looking back, teddybear spider. Funny in retrospect or terrifying childhood memory?”
Ron made a rude hand gesture with a scowl.
“Ronald!” they heard Percy call out all the way from the other side of the common room.
“So no,” George said. “No sense of humor.”
“What a shame,” Fred said, turning his attention to Harry. “It was a fluke.”
Ron rolled his eyes, he looked upset.
“Ron makes jokes all the time,” Harry said.
“Knock knock jokes don’t count,” Fred said.
“So how’ve the new gloves been working out?” George asked turning away from his younger brother.
“Uuummm…” Harry said. “I thought that was a secret.”
“Yeah,” Fred said. “From prefects and teachers. Though I can see why you’d want to keep it a secret from these two.”
“What gloves,” Hermione said, and she was already disapproving.
“Oh it’s nothing bad,” Harry said, pulling out his gloves. “It’s actually really cool. I have these gloves and patches on my robes and shoes, they really just blend in, and I can use them to walk through walls.”
“Most walls,” George said.
“I’ve been their guinea pig,” Harry said.
“Woah,” Fred said defensively to a murderous looking Hermione. “We were guinea pigs, you’re human trials.”
“Monkey trials?” George asked Fred.
“Monkey trials,” Fred agreed. “We’re not quite at human trials yet.”
“Wait,” Hermione asked. “Really though? Through walls? How do they work?” She no longer seemed concerned about the minimally tested magical items.
“Oh but that’s a proprietary secret,” Fred said.
“Couldn’t possibly say,” George said.
“Why didn’t you ask me to try them out?” Ron asked.
“Well you didn’t give us the idea, now did you?” George said.
“I’d sort of did a bit of accidental magic over the summer,” Harry said. “I sort of became non-corporeal for a bit. No big deal, but I just mentioned it in passing and then the twins went and made these. I mean that’s the only reason I’m involved.”
“Can I try them?” Hermione asked, and there was real interest in her eyes. Harry could almost imagine what was going on in her head as she tried to divine their secrets.
“Sure,” George said.
“What about me?” Ron asked.
“Oooh, sorry Ronnie,” Fred said. “Knowing you, you’d probably end up falling through to the center of the earth.”
“What?” Hermione asked.
“Mum would kill us,” George said. “Probably wouldn’t get anything for Christmas.”
“And you know how seriously we take Christmas,” Fred said.
"Wouldn't ever hear the end of it either," George said.
"What did you boys do to the rug?” Fred said in a horrible imitation of their mother. "This is just as bad as what you did to your poor brother, what's-his-name."
"Never live it down," George said.
Ron stood up. “You know what?” he said looking like he was about to go off on them, before he deflated and looked away. “Whatever, just bugger off.”
Ron walked off towards the dorm.
“No sense of humor,” Fred said, even as George was calling out, “We were only kidding.”
“I gotta…” Harry got up and followed after Ron.
Ron was on his bed when Harry got up to the dormitory and he was distinctly not looking at Harry.
“I’m sorry Ron,” Harry said. “I wasn’t… I didn’t want to keep it from you, I just thought… it was their secret, you know?”
“I wasn’t upset about that,” Ron said. “They’ve always just… I feel like I’m the butt of all their jokes, and they’re just so good at everything so it’s no wonder they never wanted me to be involved in anything but… if they aren't ignoring me it's only because they're taking the mickey, you know...I don’t know.”
“You’re good at things,” Harry said.
Ron just sighed.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked.
“That’s supposed to be my question for you,” Ron said.
“I don’t have a monopoly on feeling like shite,” Harry said.
“I’m alright,” Ron said. “I just… I've been feeling bad about Ginny."
"Okay?" Harry said, very unsure of where that had come from.
"She spent the whole of last year being terrorized by that diary and I ignored her the whole time. Part of it, I guess, is that I know I sort of ignored Ginny the same the twins ignored me a lot of the time, mostly last year, especially last year. It makes me feel like crap when they're like that, so how'd it feel for her?”
“You’ve been spending a lot more time with her this year,” Harry said.
“Doesn’t change what happened,” Ron said. “Only Lockheart can forget that that year ever happened.”
Harry scowled and had to push that away.
“None of that was your fault,” Harry said.
“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if I’d just paid her a bit of attention,” Ron said. “We used to be really close, you know. That just makes it worse, doesn't it. I’d sort of gotten this talking to from Bill when I was little about what it meant to be a big brother and I used to take that really seriously and then… I don’t know. For a while it was mostly a responsibility thing, then when it was just the two of us left at home we got real close. Then I went to Hogwarts for my first year and we drifted apart again, then second year I completely ignored her and she couldn't trust me to tell me something was wrong. I went from being her best friend to treating her like an annoyance and she almost died for it."
"Yeah, well you were still the bloke who went down into the chamber of secrets to get his sister back,” Harry told Ron.
“I think you’ve gotten me mixed up with you,” Ron said.
“Nah mate, I don’t have a sister,” Harry said. “You didn’t have to fight a giant snake for it to be totally awesome that you actually went down there knowing it was there.”
“Mum said she was proud of me for that,” Ron said. “She also told me I’d be degnoming the backyard all summer but that only lasted a couple of days.”
“Yeah, see,” Harry said. “You’re an awesome big brother, I seem to recall you were helping her with some homework last week.”
“Does that make Hermione, like, our big sister, since she’s always helping us with ours?” Ron asked.
“Well she’s older than the both of us,” Harry said.
“I think we left Hermione alone with the twins,” Ron said.
“The twins’ll survive,” Harry said. “Maybe.”
Ron laughed.
“I’m serious,” Harry said. “She wants to know everything, and those gloves are like a big mystery. You know how determined she can be.”
“Come on,” Ron said. “We’ve got too much to do.”
“Speak for yourself,” Harry said, grabbing his broom from his trunk. “I’ve got a playdate.”
Ron snickered.
“When was the last time we went flying together?” Harry asked.
“Ugh,” Ron said. “I think it was last year.”
“We should do something about that,” Harry said.
“Yeah,” Ron said. "I should take Ginny too sometime."
The two walked downstairs to the common room. The twins weren’t in sight and Harry told Ron and Hermione he’d see them after his lesson with Professor Lupin. As he was walking away, he heard Ron ask, “Hermione, are you like our big sister?” To which the only reply Harry heard was “What?!”
Hermione was ten and a half months older than Harry actually, so he supposed she was actually old enough to be an older sister; if they were actually siblings of course. Harry had dreamed of siblings often enough, as well as parents.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
“How was flying with Mr. Diggory?” Professor Snape asked as Harry entered the man’s office somewhat sweaty and sporting a grin.
“It was fun actually,” Harry said. “Cedric has this cool modified snitch, so, like, it has a narrower flight area and it’s a bit bigger but it’s faster. So it’s less about finding the snitch and more about chasing it.”
“Who won?” Professor Snape asked.
“Oh we were just playing for fun,” Harry said.
“Harry, two seekers went flying with a snitch, I find it hard to believe that there was no competition,” Professor Snape said.
“I totally won,” Harry said, and he really did feel good about that. “Most of the time.”
“Poor Mr. Diggory,” Professor Snape said. “How many times did he lose the snitch this weekend?”
“He’s actually really good,” Harry said. “Except he takes too much at face value. But he’s got some good skills there. You’re just upset he lost the match and Gryffindor’s still in the running for the cup.”
“I suppose from now on I shall be rooting for you to catch the snitch and for Slytherin to win the cup,“ Professor Snape said.
Harry grinned.
“Do you still have that special lesson you mentioned, or did you already have that?” Professor Snape asked.
“I’m actually going there right now after I grab a bite to eat,” Harry said.
“Ah,” Professor Snape said, pulling out his wand.
With a swish and a jab Harry was struck with a spell that left his skin tingling and it took him a moment to realize that it was some sort of cleaning spell. He scowled at the professor.
“A student shouldn’t show up to a class in such a state,” Professor Snape said.
“I didn’t really have time for a shower,” Harry said. “Actually I really should grab my potion and go.”
Professor Snape nodded and turned towards his stores. “Who are you having a lesson with?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Usually I have a self-defense thing going with Benjamin Turner,” Harry said. “But I had to beg off so I could do a Patronus Charm lesson with Professor Lupin.” He hadn’t known if he would mention Professor Lupin to Professor Snape until the words were coming out of his mouth.
Professor Snape returned in silence, handing the vial to Harry.
“Do not let your guard down around that man,” Professor Snape said bluntly. “Not for a moment. Do not let propriety stop you from leaving if you feel that something is wrong.”
“I do know not to trust the defense professor, sir,” Harry said. “I’ll make sure to leave the door open if it will make you feel better.”
“This is serious Mr. Potter,” Professor Snape said.
“I know,” Harry said, brought up by the use of his surname. “I really do. I’ll be careful. I’ve been alone with him before.”
“Constantly on alert,” Professor Snape said firmly.
“I will be,” Harry said. “I’ve got to go, do you want to walk to the Great Hall with me?”
“I have a potion simmering next door,” Professor Snape said. “Be safe and try to have more than just a bite to eat Harry.”
“I will,” Harry said, walking out the door.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
He managed a few bites.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
‘Really nice friend of my dad’s who hates Greyback,’ Harry reminded himself as he psyched himself up to go be alone with the defense professor. Harry had to take care of the dementor problem before the next quidditch match or Oliver was probably going to sub in another player. He needed to not have every horrible part of his childhood stirred up every time he got close to those things and he really needed to not pass out ever again. He needed to not feel nauseous at the thought of going into the classroom. Throwing up on Professor Lupin’s shoes would probably be bad. Harry walked through the classroom door with a smile on his face. He left the door wide open.
“Harry,” Professor Lupin greeted.
“Hey professor,” Harry said. “Good weekend?”
“Well, that match was exciting,” Professor Lupin said. “How has yours been.”
“Oh, you know, saw the match, went flying,” Harry said. “I’m sorry to have you working before your weekend’s even over.”
“Nonsense,” Professor Lupin said. “I seem to recall assigning you homework for the weekend so I suppose this is fair. Did you do the reading?”
“Yes,” Harry said. “Though nothing happened when I tried the spell again.”
“The spell’s actually hard to learn without a dementor present,” Professor Lupin said. “Of course it’s hard to actually cast in the presence of one as well but we’ll see how you do. Now, do remember that this is not a third year spell. So don’t get discouraged if you don’t get it right on the first go.”
“We’re not actually practicing with dementors though, are we?” Harry asked.
“No,” Professor Lupin said. “No, we’ll be using a boggart, though that will actually depend on if your suspicions are correct and it is indeed a dementor that you fear the most and not Greyback.”
Harry eyed a wardrobe that was in the corner of the room. It rattled a bit when Harry eyed it. So much for not passing out ever again or having memories dredged up.
“I think I’m more angry with Greyback now than I am scared,” Harry said. Though that certainly didn’t mean that he wasn’t scared. “Dementors are what I can’t fight no matter what right now. I might have a chance with Greyback… you know, just a small one.”
“Have you found yourself a happy memory?” Professor Lupin asked.
“Yes,” Harry replied. His first quidditch victory. The book had said that any happy memory could technically do, but that there were some characteristics that worked better than others. Euphoria was good, but Harry couldn’t really think of anything that matched the sort of happy memory that the book had said was the very best sort. The patronus charm was a protection, a shield. It made you safe, and that feeling, that memory where you felt safe and protected and secure and happy; Harry couldn’t think of anything like that. Harry felt safest at Hogwarts, but there was nothing that stuck out as especially joyous and secure. The truth was that he did feel safest at Hogwarts, but Hogwarts wasn’t really all that safe. He supposed he’d never felt especially safe. He had more than enough to fear, even in his home.
“Good,” Professor Lupin said. “Let’s see you try it now, just to make sure you have the form and incantation down.”
“Expecto Patronum,” Harry said. Nothing happened.
“Very good,” Professor Lupin said. “Perfect form. Ready to see what’s inside this wardrobe?”
Harry imagined that the door would open and Greyback would step out, only it really would be Greyback. That would be a good trap, wouldn’t it? Harry would be trying to banish a boggart while Greyback and Professor Lupin made their attack. Harry shook off that thought.
“Yes,” Harry said, definitely not ready.
“Alright,” Professor Lupin said. “Focus on that memory.”
Professor Lupin stood to the side of the door and used his wand to open the door. A dementor popped out. It stood well over six feet tall and Harry had time to get out the word ‘Expecto,’ before he heard what must have been a death rattle and suddenly he heard a woman screaming. She was pleading. Everything was so cold. There was cruel laughter and Harry wanted to cover his ears, he had to help, but there was no way he could. How could he help anyone? He only ever got people killed. The woman was dead, it was all his fault. She died and all Harry could do was hug himself as he couldn’t even fight the cold that seeped into his bones.
There was a green flash and then Harry felt warm. There was peace. Everything was alright. Everyone was going to be alright. Harry tried to hold on to that feeling, tried to wrap himself in it.
Shift
Aunt Petunia was going to be so mad, Harry knew, as he tried to get himself turned the right way around. The cold rain soaked him and made it even harder to see through his glasses. What if a stranger found him first? A car sped by on the rain slicked street and Harry got grimy from the wash of the tires. He was going to be lost forever he knew…
Shift
He was warm and dry and he knew that he was where he was supposed to be, he knew there would always be someone who would come looking for him. He…
Harry opened his eyes and starred at the ceiling.
“That didn’t go very well,” Harry said.
“I didn’t imagine your first try would,” Professor Lupin said.
Harry sat up and was helped to stand by Professor Lupin who handed Harry a block of chocolate. Harry eyed it warily before looking at the professor.
“Ummm…” Harry said, fear rising up.
“Go ahead,” Professor Lupin said. “It really does help.”
“Right,” Harry said. “Umm.. so dementors make me really paranoid actually.” He placed the chocolate on the desk next to him. He blushed furiously. How awful it was to insult a man who was helping him.
“Do they really?” Professor Lupin asked, picking up the chocolate.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “You know, too many people’ve tried to kill me. Last time it was poison.”
“Well I can promise you I am actually terrible at potions,” Professor Lupin said. “So you needn’t worry about poisons from me. You may want to bring some of your own chocolate next time though.”
The professor took a bite of the chocolate.
“Oh,” Harry said. He went to his bag and grabbed a chocolate frog.
“I am sorry,” Harry said.
“Think nothing of it,” Professor Lupin said kindly.
“I’ve been wondering,” Harry said.
“If I’m going to poison you?” Professor Lupin asked.
Yes, Harry thought, even as he blushed deeper.
“About dementors,” Harry said. “Does more exposure make you, like, less susceptible to them?”
“Ah,” Professor Lupin said. “I understand that the guards who work at Azkaban do become a bit inured to them. The long-term inmates of course go insane, though, for the most part.”
“Oh,” Harry said.
“I think over time you could become resistant to them,” Professor Lupin said. “But we might not want you to get that much exposure. Though I do expect you will become better able to stand your ground during these lessons.”
“I couldn’t even cast the spell,” Harry said.
“It takes practice,” Professor Lupin said. “Speaking of which, do tell me when you’re ready.”
“I suppose I’m ready now,” Harry said. "Oh wait... Cushions."
Harry took a moment to get some of the cushions used by the defense class so he wouldn't fall on the hard floor anymore.
They made several more attempts before Harry ran out of chocolate frogs and became very well acquainted with the classroom ceiling. The dementor’s effects didn’t last on him after it was put away, but it didn’t stop the memories from mucking around.
“So if dementors drive people crazy,” Harry said, and had to suppress a shudder at the thought of being exposed to one long enough for that to happen. “How come everyone who escaped’s been so good at not doing crazy stuff to get caught?… Besides Beckett anyway.”
“We don’t really know,” Professor Lupin said. “I perhaps should not have said crazy. Some truly do resemble how popular culture portrays insanity. Most however just stop living. They stop being aware of what’s around them and become locked inside of themselves. Even after they are released, it is often a while before they are anything resembling functional again, if they ever are. What has been reported is that a couple of years ago, a certain number of death eaters in Azkaban started to come out of their shells, so to speak. Certainly not to an extent where they were considered a threat, but it was never explained.”
There was a knock on the frame of the open doorway and Harry’s jaw dropped open as Professor Snape stepped in, a steaming goblet in his hand.
“I don’t keep your potion in the stores,” Professor Snape told Professor Lupin darkly, acting for all the world as if Harry were not there. “If you feel you need it before I bring it to you, you may always ask. Tampering with my wards can be very… dangerous.”
“I’m afraid you have me confused with one of your students, Severus, I hope your wards are not terribly lethal for the students who go looking for a wit sharpening solution or whatnot.” Professor Lupin said, and though he spoke in his usual pleasant tones Harry could tell that he didn’t appreciate what Professor Snape was implying. “I have full faith that you will make sure I have what I need.”
Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed as he handed Professor Lupin the potion.
“Do let me know if you need anymore,” Professor Snape said. “It would be such a pity if you did not have enough.”
“Of course,” Professor Lupin said. “I must thank you for brewing this for me.”
Professor Snape sneered. He actually sneered, and Harry hadn’t seen that in a while. Harry stared wide eyed at the two professors wondering if someone was about to be killed. Professor Snape finally looked at Harry and gave him a significant look before walking out. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. His anxiety spiked when he saw Professor Lupin pick up the potion.
Harry didn’t really have to wonder what sort of potions Professor Snape had brewed for Voldemort. The man wouldn’t really poison Professor Lupin right in front of Harry though, would he? Maybe Professor Snape was a really over-protective parent. Harry had a strong urge to knock the goblet out of the professor’s hands.
“Professor Snape think’s you’re working with Greyback,” Harry told Professor Lupin abruptly. Reminded, really. Professor Lupin knew full well that Professor Snape suspected him. Why was he taking potions from him? The thing was smoking. That wasn’t steam. That was smoke!
“I didn’t know you knew about that,” Professor Lupin said.
Harry’s eyes bugged out as the man drank the potion. Professor Lupin grimaced as he drank the whole thing down, but he drank it. He set the goblet down and turned towards Harry, he smiled at the look on Harry’s face.
“You really do get paranoid around dementors don’t you?” Professor Lupin asked.
“Are you alright?” Harry asked, looking for some sign that Professor Lupin was about to keel over dead.
“Most definitely,” Professor Lupin said. “Professor Snape has been kind enough to provide me with a potion that truly does help me with a personal matter. I am intimately familiar with it, and I am somewhat confident I would recognize if it had been tampered with.”
“Right,” Harry said, feeling relieved. “I think we should call it a night professor.”
“That would probably be best,” Professor Lupin said. “Wednesday after your quidditch practice?”
“Yes,” Harry agreed, though he didn’t know if he could handle another evening like the one he had just had.
“Do practice the incantation and the wand movement,” Professor Lupin said. “Focusing is difficult around a dementor, you want to have it down to muscle memory.”
“I will professor,” Harry said.
“Have a good night Harry,” Professor Lupin said.
“You too professor,” Harry said. He left the room in a hurry. He tried not to think of what the dementors had stirred up. He tried not to think of his suspicions and his fears. It wasn’t much use what he tried to think of.
Harry couldn’t help thinking about what professor Snape had been talking about. He had accused Professor Lupin of trying to break into his stores, likely because someone had. He also couldn’t help but think of Professor Lupin’s own assertion that he was no good at potions himself and the chocolate he had wanted Harry to eat.
He shook that thought off. It had been a lie, but maybe dementors really did make him paranoid. The man had eaten the chocolate himself. Although he could have previously imbibed the antidote to whatever he had laced it with. Not that he had likely laced it with anything. Harry was making something out of nothing, he was sure. He was mostly sure.
The truth was that Harry had always been wary of Professor Lupin, and not just because he was the defense professor. Something about him seemed too good to be true; the old friend of his dad's who only ever gave him encouragement, who treated Harry as though he were old enough to have such serious conversations. Harry had been wary from the beginning even as he had craved the contact, even as he sought it out in Professor Snape.
Harry didn't know if he trusted Professor Lupin, he didn't know if he wanted to. There was too much possibility that he would be proven wrong. Yet he needed to learn the Patronus Charm, and Professor Lupin hadn't done anything to deserve being treated with suspicion.
Harry would have to rely on hope. Hope just didn't have a very good track record.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
With the full moon rising in another hour, Severus was happy to have Harry safe with himself just then. While there was no evidence that Greyback could possibly enter the grounds, there was nothing stopping certain others from trying to get Harry outside of the very many protections that surrounded him.
“So then I was wondering about what you said about the train ride at the beginning of the year,” Harry said, continuing in his description of the patronus lesson he had had the previous night. “You mentioned you couldn’t use the patronus charm until you’d started using that mental magic stuff and I was wondering if I should learn that.”
“Occlumency is not so easily learned,” Severus said. “Particularly not at thirteen.”
“But do you think I could learn?” Harry asked. “I mean, I’ve been doing well with the fourth year defense course work. I think I could handle it.”
“I am sure that you could,” Severus said. “Though you do have a phenomenally full schedule already.”
“I’ve got two months to learn the Patronus Charm,” Harry said. “So I’ve got a bit less than that to learn Occlumency. How long did it take you to learn?”
“A week,” Severus said. “But you would not want to learn the way I learned.”
“How was that?” Harry asked.
“It was a bit like learning to swim by being thrown into the ocean and having no shore in sight,” Severus said. “It was a singular task that I could not quit until I got it right. Failure meant death. Now perhaps you can tell me why you believe you shall need to know the patronus charm in two months.”
“Well that’s when Gryffindor’s next match is,” Harry said. “Can’t lose another match because I fell off my broom, now can I?”
“The matter has already been taken care of,” Severus told Harry. “I presume you noticed the lack of dementors at Saturday’s match.”
“Well yeah,” Harry said. “But you can’t just assume it’ll never happen again. Gryffindor can’t afford another loss. We’ve got to get Oliver the cup; it’s his last year.”
“We took precautions during the previous match,” Severus said. “We will be taking precautions during all future matches for as long as the dementors are here. If you fall off your broom in January it will not be because of dementors.”
Harry was silent for a moment. “I still want to learn,” he said.
“You would be well off staying away from that man,” Severus said. Harry shrugged.
“Like, I know that you have some suspicions,” Harry said. “And I’m not, like, ready to trust him or anything, but… I do think he’s on the level, and I still really need to learn that spell. You’ll be happy to know that he offered me some chocolate and I didn’t eat any. I told him the dementor made me paranoid.”
“He exposed you to a dementor?!” Severus asked, outraged.
“No,” Harry said quickly. “It was a boggart. My boggart’s a dementor. Which, by the way, is reason enough to want to learn the Patronus Charm, I think. And you’ll be happy to know he never leaves me exposed for long. Like, once I’m down he’s already getting rid of it.”
“Well what’s the point of you not eating the chocolate when he can do whatever he wants when you’re passed out?” Severus asked.
“Well I'd like to point out that I did pass out,” Harry said, and the boy was blushing furiously now. “And case in point, nothing happened.” As far as Harry knew anyway.
“Do not trust him,” Severus said. It galled him so much that Harry was so exposed to the man. Every year the headmaster insisted on hiring people who were a danger to Harry.
“I should go,” Harry said. “I’ve still got to finish some homework. Thanks for dinner, will you think about Occlumency?”
“We will work it in your schedule,” Severus said. “Somehow. Come, I will walk you to the tower.”
“What do you think’s going to happen on the way to the tower?” Harry asked.
“I’m sure I’d like not to find out,” Severus said. “Not on the night of the full moon.”
They walked out into the hall together and headed towards the stairs.
“Did you really think I was going to poison Lupin?” Severus asked.
Harry’s jaw dropped open and he flushed. “What made you think that?” Harry asked.
“The way you looked at that goblet like I was about to throw a poisonous snake at his face rather gave it away,” Severus said.
“Did you mean to do that?” Harry asked. “’Cause you rather seemed to be giving off the vibe of a man set on killing someone. And then there’s that whole smoking goblet thing and just hours before you’d practically told me he was going to deliver me to Greyback. Did you have to deliver it when I was there?”
“It is optimal for the potion to be taken at certain times,” Severus said. “And I certainly wasn’t going to be cordial when he can’t keep his paws out of my stores.”
“Why are you so sure it was him?” Harry asked. “It could have been anyone.”
“The attempt was made through a secret passage that was open while we were students here,” Severus said. “I sealed it long ago, but the only person who would attempt such a thing would be one who had been here when it was open. There were a couple of other attempts earlier this month through other avenues.”
Harry was silent for a while.
“Was anything taken?” Harry asked.
“My wards were not breached,” Severus said smugly.
“So what’s with the potion anyway?” Harry asked.
“Apparently it is none of your concern,” Severus said.
Harry gave him a questioning look, but Severus did not elaborate.
“Please have faith that I would not kill one of your professors right in front of you,” Severus said. “Or at least, not without good reason.”
“That makes me feel so much better,” Harry said.
Before long they arrived at Gryffindor Tower and they parted before they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
“Can I trust that you will not leave the tower before the setting of the moon?” Severus asked.
“I’m not suicidal,” Harry said.
“I’ve wondered in the past,” Severus said.
Harry swallowed and nodded. “I’ll stay in the tower.”
“Excellent,” Severus said. “Have a good night.”
“You too, Professor,” Harry said.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Harry, Ron and Hermione worked for a while after Harry had gotten back to the tower. Harry was finally caught up on homework and Hermione was plowing on with her projects and Ron was doing some odd experiment where a chess piece would move right or left depending on where Ron placed another piece before it. It was the first time Harry had felt caught up in a while and he had the whole rest of the week ahead of him.
Harry and Ron wound up going up to the dormitory at a decent hour that night and when they did, Ron found a surprise waiting for him.
“Butterbeer!” he exclaimed.
Harry perked up at the excitement in his voice.
“What’s this,” Seamus asked. The other boys were already getting ready for bed and they all looked Ron’s way as the boy held up six bottles of butterbeer that seemed to have been left on his bed.
Harry’s excitement died down as suspicion rose up.
“Who left you butterbeer?” Harry asked.
Ron looked at a scrap of parchment left with the bottles.
“Ugh,” Ron said. “The twins left it. Probably got a hex on them.”
“What’s it say?” Dean asked.
“Says they’re sorry for being jerks,” Ron said.
“I’ll try a bottle,” Dean said.
“You’re crazy,” Seamus told him.
“I didn’t hear about the stuff till after I came back from Hogsmeade,” Dean said. “I want to try. There’s a bunch of prefects downstairs, I don’t mind if my eyebrows grow past my hips if the stuff still tastes good.”
“Your funeral,” Ron said, handing the boy a bottle.
They all waited with bated breaths as Dean opened one up and took a drink.
“This stuff’s great,” Dean said.
“Ron, your brothers are saints,” Seamus said when nothing seemed to happen to Dean.
“I guess stranger things have happened,” Ron said. “All right, butterbeer all around, though I’m keeping the extra bottle.”
Harry was skeptical as everyone started drinking, but he hadn't had a chance to try any at the party the twins had thrown and he was really curious. It had a creamy vanilla taste and there were spices that reminded Harry of the holidays and he felt warm inside as the beverage settled in his stomach. Harry was glad that the twins were trying to be nice to Ron.
Suddenly everything felt good. He’d been working so hard and now he was ready to get a good night’s sleep. He couldn’t wait to get into bed and close his eyes. Dean apparently couldn’t wait to get to bed either, he was lying down on the ground, Harry noticed idly. Soon, Seamus and Neville joined him and Harry thought it was funny. Everyone just lay down on the floor and fell asleep. Ron managed to slump over on his bed. Harry smiled. Ron would be much more comfortable there. Harry’s own bed was just too far away. The floor looked really nice actually. Harry lay down and closed his eyes.
Trust