H.P.

The marauder’s map was satisfyingly steady in Harry’s hands, even though he didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. He hadn’t revisited the graveyard, so his throat wasn’t raw from screaming, but seeing Dobby die again was worse. He’d been trapped half-awake in a state of crushing guilt and anticipation of this morning’s prank.

Ron had stuck to his word, slipping away with him from the dining hall to hide behind a tapestry of Helga Hufflepuff on the first floor, even though it meant having a meagre breakfast of dry toast. Hermione had pointedly refused to be involved in any prank, especially one set by the twins, and had gone to the library in protest.

The corridors were crowded with students headed to the first class of the day, their black dots blurring together and overlapping on the map. Ron peered out from behind the tapestry, muttering under his breath as a cluster of Durmstrang students passed by. Harry watched as a steady stream of dots followed them into the library, doubtless more interested in Viktor Krum than any book. Hermione was going to be annoyed.

‘Do you think they had anything to do with the poisoning?’ Ron whispered around a mouthful of toast. Harry nudged the cloth aside, but there were no Slytherins in sight. Ron was still staring towards the library. His bad mood probably had a lot more to do with the fact that Hermione was about to be chatted up by Krum than real concern that a Durmstrang student was the poisoner.

‘Krum and his friends don’t seem all that chummy with Malfoy.’ He bit his tongue rather than point out that seeing as Krum fancied Hermione, it didn’t seem like he’d see eye to eye with most of the Slytherins at all.

Harry drew his attention back to the map. He had to stay focused. Fred’s dot was on the third floor and George’s in the dungeon – the twins had been conspicuously absent from breakfast. All they were waiting for now was the signal to start, and as soon as Lucius Malfoy or Nott arrived, they could have it.

The castle grounds were near empty, just Madam Hooch heading towards the quidditch pitch and Hagrid towards his cabin.

Finally, a small black dot appeared on the edge of the map. Lucius Malfoy. A wave of anger washed from head to foot as he read the name and his fingers tightened on the edges of the parchment, creasing it. He yanked on the back of Ron’s robes. ‘He’s here.’

‘I’m not looking forward to this. If they’ve knocked up something big in one night, it could be a disaster.’

Harry grunted in acknowledgement. The twins could get in a lot of trouble, and it’d be all his fault. The knot of guilt that hadn’t shifted since this morning twisted again. But he didn’t have a choice – Snape couldn’t get suspended. Suspension meant no adoption and he wasn’t going to lose out on having a family, not when it was within reach.

Harry stuffed the map into his pocket and stepped out from behind the tapestry, falling into step with a group of Ravenclaws as he made his way up to the third floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ron head down to the dungeons.

Beyond the statue of the hump-backed witch, a flash of red hair poked out behind a suit of armour.

‘They’re starting to arrive. Malfoy’s here at least,’ Harry said, leaning against the wall beside it.

Fred grinned widely. ‘Not for long. We’ve used our entire stash and we’ve…ah… enhanced them. We had to skip breakfast to do it, but we’ve covered every floor of the castle. The board won’t be meeting here or anywhere else at Hogwarts, as you requested. I can’t recommend the bubble head charm strongly enough.’ A sphere appeared over his face, distorting his features.

Harry shook his head. ‘It’d be a dead giveaway. I’ll hold my breath.’

‘Trust me, if you’re still in the castle when you next inhale, you won’t be far enough away. They’ve never made dungbombs this strong.’

Fred raised his wand and a putrid smoke began to wheeze from the coat of arms. Clever, hiding them in there where Mrs Norris wouldn’t find them.

Harry fought his instincts to run, holding his breath as he made his way to transfiguration like nothing was out of the ordinary, so the cries reached him before the smell. A mixture of confusion, disgust and alarm echoed up and down the stairs and then along the corridors. Students scattered into classrooms, covering their mouths and noses with their elbows or handfuls of robes.

When it hit, tears sprang into his eyes and he gagged, joining the students thronging to the stairs as they made a break for fresh air. Well, there was no reason not to run now.

S.S.

Severus scowled from within a translucent sphere, unaffected by the foul stench sweeping through the castle. He’d had no intention of letting two Death Eaters roam freely about the castle, not when one had managed to kidnap his son from right under their noses only weeks earlier. It had been a fortuitous position. When the first wave of dungbombs hit, he was mercifully close to fresh air. It was the work of a moment to cast a personal protection spell for a skilled enough wizard, but that ruled out more than three quarters of the castle, who were stampeding towards the main entrance, clutching their stomachs and noses.

‘To the quidditch pitch,’ Flitwick squeaked from the top of the entrance hall stairs, his grey hair floating serenely in his conjured bubble, in complete contrast to the pandemonium in the castle.

‘Merlin, what kind of school is Dumbledore running?’ Lucius demanded, lifting his cane aside as students rushed past. Severus took an inordinate amount of pleasure in watching as the smell reached him; his pale skin took on a satisfying green hue.

Lucius hesitated at the threshold, but the stench had an almost physical quality. Unprotected, the senses battled to be away from it, and he found his steps forward rebuffed by his sense of self-preservation.

‘Too much of a coward to face the board,’ he said, his expression resembling Narcissa as he chose to forgo the indignity of the bubble head charm to sneer at Severus.

‘Hundreds of students in a school of magic, accidents are bound to happen,’ he replied, feigning indifference as he crooked a finger to summon a Slytherin prefect, instructing them to search the dungeons for disoriented students. When the disgruntled student had left to follow his instructions, he turned back to Malfoy. ‘You’re welcome to go to the headmaster’s office to wait, although it will be some time until all the students are charmed and we can begin the decontamination.’

‘If you think you can avoid scrutiny by forcing a delay-’

‘There will be no delay,’ Severus replied firmly. ‘The aurors will be called in today to begin their investigation with my full co-operation.’

A flicker of something more than disgust crossed his face. Surprise, not concern like Nott had displayed.

‘And how will that look to the adoption authorities?’ Of course, Lucius would think he’s won either way. If the purpose was to smear Severus, an investigation would serve in the short term, but the adoption process was slow. He would have to hope that the authorities would wait for the outcome of the investigation. A suspension without finding the real culprit would do the most damage to his application, but that meant sacrificing the idiot who smashed the jar. Expulsion and a criminal record would only lead them closer to the Dark Lord. Another Death Eater was the last thing they needed.

‘It will look thorough and unbiased,’ he returned coolly. Overwhelmed by the odour emanating from the castle, Lucius turned on his heel, his cane cracking sharply against the ground.

‘Gather in your houses on the quidditch pitch,’ Severus intoned, casting sonorus as he joined the search for stray students. This was beyond any dungbomb he’d ever experienced in all his years of teaching. There was nowhere in the castle walls that the smell hadn’t permeated. Even his quarters would be uninhabitable without decontamination.

He grimaced as a Hufflepuff with a weak constitution retched, stepping neatly aside while the headmaster swooped in with an air freshening charm, guiding them gently towards the entrance hall.

‘Quite interesting timing,’ Albus remarked as he fell into step with Severus. With a quick wave of his wand, the glass vanished from the windows, letting chill air sweep through the corridors.

‘Unfortunate,’ Severus disagreed. ‘I could have pressed Nott at the meeting and countered his claims against me. I’d have preferred the aurors to remain a bluff.’

‘The aurors will be able to rule you out swiftly. I don’t think it will unduly prejudice your application.’

‘And what about my students? Black tried to murder me, and you didn’t call the aurors. Even now, you embrace him as one of your own. How different things turn out for children sorted into the right house,’ he said bitterly.

‘You wouldn’t propose to protect your students at Harry’s expense.’

‘It was a clumsy attempt to discredit me, not an assault on my son.' How dare the headmaster question his loyalty to Harry. ‘I still have a duty to my students, and it was you who tasked me with turning them from a future serving the Dark Lord.’

‘If you believe you know who the culprit is-’

‘I have no proof,’ Severus interrupted. ‘I cannot call off Nott or the board without evidence.’

The headmaster was frustratingly calm as he dispelled the corridors. ‘Have you learnt anything from your interviews with your students?’

‘Only which have the most disdain for their head of house. I take it the review of the owl post hasn’t yielded anything useful either?’

‘Not yet.’

Minerva hailed them from the seventh floor, declaring it free of students and ready for decontamination. Severus cast a warming charm as a few sprinkles of snow drifted through the window.

‘This is quite impressive spell work. Some of the ghosts are claiming they can smell it,’ she said. Of course she would think the Weasley twins’ mischief was impressive. Left unchecked the headmaster and Minerva might well start handing out points.

‘Those two should be expelled,’ Severus snarled. He had spent a good portion of the night planning just how he would get Nott to back down from the threat of suspension while avoiding calling the aurors, and all for nothing. His adoption application was in jeopardy, just as the culprit had intended, and he would lose one of his students that much sooner to the Dark Lord, and all for their idea of fun.

‘Now, now. We shouldn’t make accusations without evidence,’ the headmaster chided lightly, and Severus gnashed his teeth together to keep from saying something he might regret. The headmaster could pull strings so that the right aurors investigated the poisoning, so alienating him completely was out of the question.

Minerva headed towards the tower and Severus whirled away to begin dispelling the dungeons, but the headmaster had one more parting question. ‘Did you tell Harry about the board meeting?’

‘Of course not. He hardly needs any more to worry about.’

The students were none the wiser about the arrival of the aurors, too wrapped up in the chaos of the dungbomb decontamination to notice anything else. 

Severus gestured for Kingsley and Tonks to enter his office, some of the tension receding from his shoulders at the sight of two Order members. The headmaster had done well.

Kingsley took the fragments of jar and what remained of the bloodroot for testing. Of course, the headmaster could have tested it himself, but it wasn’t worth Nott and Malfoy’s inevitable accusations of foul play, even if it confirmed the poisoner sooner.

Severus waved his wand and a list of his recent orders appeared on his desk. Tonks raised an eyebrow as she skimmed the ingredients list for Snape’s personal stores. ‘Some of these ingredients aren’t going to look good,’ she said. Severus bit his tongue to stop the sharp retort from spilling from his lips. Was she chewing gum in his classroom?

‘I’ll leave it to you to alter the records as you see fit,’ he said stiffly. ‘You’ll notice there’s no bloodroot.’

‘Angel’s Trumpet isn’t known for its healing properties either.’

‘I’m brewing for the Order, not the infirmary. I left the order unedited for the purposes of trust, but there are competent enough brewers among the Dark Lord’s inner circle. I wouldn’t like to think of what they’d do with this information. I would suggest we redact the less… common ingredients.’

Kingsley held his hand out for the order and made swift work of editing the list. ‘Your memory of the event would be helpful.’

Severus had the pensieve ready and siphoned the memory into the basin without remark. When the two Order members plunged into the basin and he was alone, Albus’ final question resurfaced in his mind. Did you tell Harry about the board meeting?

That question lingered in his head for the rest of the day, all through decontamination and an afternoon of intensely uncomfortable lessons. The choice had been stale air or freezing dungeons and the latter had won out. Harry simply couldn’t have found out about the board meeting when it was at such short notice. The timing of the prank had to have been coincidental.

Still, he couldn’t help but ask as soon as Harry arrived for his evening training session, narrowing his eyes as the portrait opened to allow more of the putrid air into his freshly decontaminated quarters. ‘Am I going to find out you had anything to do with that stunt?’

‘Why would I set dungbombs off in the castle?’ he replied, heading straight to the kitchen and fetching a glass of water. Innocently thirsty or avoiding eye contact?

‘You didn’t answer the question,’ he said, dodging Harry’s in turn, but if he really didn’t know about the meeting, he certainly wasn’t intending to tell him there was a chance he could have been suspended.

‘How come you’re accusing me, but when it’s Draco poisoning students we can’t throw around wild accusations?’

Severus rolled his eyes. Harry’s obsession with Draco rears its head once more. ‘Because the repercussions of accusing the wrong student may well be that the poisoner remains at large.’

Harry made an irritating scoffing noise and downed his drink. ‘Are we going then?’ he asked impatiently. Severus bit his tongue rather than escalate. Teenagers were prone to bouts of attitude on the best of days, but those had been few and far between of late. He narrowed his eyes, taking a careful look at his son. There were shadows beneath his eyes. Perhaps sleeping in the tower was enough to alleviate his nightmares, but not to allow him to rest easily. An evening of physical exertion would help with that, at least.

‘We’re waiting for Lupin,’ he answered finally. He was cursed to be plagued all day by Gryffindors. ‘Your suggestion of defending against both of us had merit.’ He gestured for him to sit. ‘And I have something to discuss with you.’

Harry threw himself back down, eyeing him suspiciously, as though he thought he was in for a telling off. Severus tapped his fingers on the back of the sofa as he considered how best to proceed. ‘Your parents decided what would happen to you in the event of their deaths. If the adoption application proceeds successfully, I’ll be required to make similar official arrangements, and if the application is unsuccessful, I’d like to make somewhat unofficial arrangements.’

‘You’re not going to die though. You can’t be a spy anymore.’

‘It’s part of the process,’ Severus replied. Pointing out that there was, in fact, a good deal of risk associated with being Harry Potter’s prospective parent and a traitor wasn’t going to be conducive to the conversation. ‘There are not many Order members you have a close relationship with who the Ministry would allow me to nominate as your guardian, but the Weasleys were pleased to be asked.’

‘I thought no one else could adopt me. Last summer you tried to find other people and no one else could take me.’

‘We’ve publicly emancipated you from your aunt and uncle and we’re at war. The situation has changed. The headmaster cannot argue that you would be best protected with your relatives.’

‘So, if something happens to you, I go to the Weasleys,’ Harry summarised. He didn’t look displeased by the notion.

‘Legally,’ he clarified. ‘However, my preference would be for Lupin to take over as your primary caregiver. You would stay with the Weasleys around the full moon, and they would relinquish parental decisions to him.’

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You want me to go to Remus? You don’t even like him.’

‘You like him is rather the point. He’s an Order member but is willing to stand up to the headmaster where your wellbeing is concerned, he’s capable of defending you, and he’s aware of the details of your childhood.’ He ticked off each point on his fingers. ‘Not only that, but he has demonstrated a willingness to prioritise your needs over his own and he can give you his full attention. I don’t doubt the Weasleys can provide a loving home, but I will not leave you to be lost amongst seven other children.’

Harry didn’t meet his eyes and Severus was starkly reminded of his attitude the last time they had discussed prospective parents. That damned list. ‘I have Sirius,’ he muttered, picking at the frayed edge of the sofa.

It was Severus’ turn to be incredulous. ‘A man you don’t feel emotionally secure enough to speak to. I was under the impression that you would be pleased at the choice. Last week you were eager to involve Lupin in your training.’

‘Yeah, and last week you were in a fight with him. I don’t want to live with someone you had to bully into taking me in.’

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, that’s what it looked like. ‘I discussed the matter with him yesterday, not last week. I know very well the damage wrought by forcing you onto people who did not want you.

‘He did point out that his lycanthropy and his financial situation were barriers to him taking you in. The issue of lycanthropy has been dealt with to my satisfaction with the Weasleys taking you once a month and my death will solve the other. My house and most of my money will go to him so that he can stop working for as long as the war requires to protect you. I don’t think I need to reassure you that he didn’t agree for the financial benefits.’

Harry’s shoulders relaxed minutely. ‘I know he’s not like that. So, he said yeah?’

‘Yes,’ Severus replied impatiently. ‘I also took the liberty of asking him to be your godfather. He’s here often enough that the title seems warranted.’

Harry screwed up his face in confusion. ‘I thought you couldn’t write his name on your forms.’

‘Your parents chose Black to be your godfather and as your prospective new parent, I’m choosing Lupin. We discussed that I’ll be your father regardless of the outcome with the Ministry. He can be your godfather if you both agree to it. Muggle tradition seems to dictate that you can have as many godparents as you please,’ he said, waving a hand vaguely.

‘You can’t just say someone’s a godparent and make it true. You have to promise a bunch of stuff in front of people and it gets written down.’

Severus rolled his eyes. ‘He’s promised to take you in if I die which I consider to be enough. Is this arrangement to your liking?’

‘Not the bit about you dying but I want Remus to be my godfather. If he liked the idea.’ The pair of them had remarkably similar reactions to the suggestion of Lupin becoming Harry’s godfather. Both seemed hesitant to believe that they were wanted.

‘You’re aware that he hasn’t been spending time with you since last summer as a favour for me? In any event, you can discuss it with him when he arrives.’

H.P.

Snape had asked Remus to be his godfather. Half the time he didn’t bother to call him by his name and now he wants him to be his actual godfather. If he asked Snape if he’d lost his mind, he might take it back, so now he was stuck wondering what had gotten into his dad.

‘Are you brewing?’ Remus asked Snape as soon as he stepped out of the floo, wrinkling his nose. He looked more tired than normal, or it could be that his clothes were shabbier, hanging more loosely from his frame. Maybe werewolves had a stronger sense of smell. It was probably rude to ask.

‘Something noxious in my quarters? Hardly,’ Snape replied with only a thin veneer of contempt. ‘You have the Weasley twins to thank for the ambience. You should be grateful you weren’t here this morning.’

‘That long ago and you still can’t get rid of it?’ His eyebrows flew up, and Harry could tell he was impressed. Sometimes Remus couldn’t hide that he used to be a marauder.

‘He has, almost. The rest of the castle’s worse,’ Harry replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His dad took the floo pot and made himself scarce, giving Harry a pointed look on his way past that said he wanted him to talk to Remus about the whole godfather thing. Harry cleared his throat. ‘Snape says he asked you to be my godfather. One of my godfathers,’ he corrected. Remus wasn’t replacing Sirius; that wasn’t what he wanted. He just needed more time – once the adoption had gone through, Sirius couldn’t do anything to mess it up and they could hang out again.

‘He did,’ Remus said, nodding slowly. ‘But it’s up to you.’

‘He doesn’t have to spy anymore, so he’s not going to die,’ Harry said firmly. ‘You can be my godfather now though. I’d like that.’

Remus smiled, even looking a little relieved. ‘I would too. As for the other arrangement, he’s in a lot less danger, but he still needs to make plans for what would happen if he were to die.’ He held up a hand to forestall Harry when he opened his mouth to protest. ‘It’s just part of being a parent, and having a plan puts his mind at ease.’

‘He can arrange for whatever, but he’s not going to die.’ It was pointless thinking about it. Snape wasn’t going to spy so he wasn’t going to be killed, so they could write down anything they liked on the ministry form and tell the Order whatever they wanted. Snape was going to be his dad.

‘Ready?’ Snape asked impatiently, reappearing with a replenished pot of floo powder. He’d bet anything he’d been eavesdropping.

They flooed through to the winter house where Snape preferred to carry out his duelling sessions. They needed even more space now that Remus was helping too. Overgrown grass and the melting frost wet his trainers and the bottoms of his jeans. The sun had set, and the only illumination came from the crescent moon and a faint conjured light from the house.

He was going to impress them both tonight. His wand arm was steadier than ever, he’d caught up on his defensive spells and he could hold either of them off in a duel by themselves.

‘As we’ve discussed, the Dark Lord is likely to want to deal with you himself, so if you’re facing multiple attackers their aim will be to capture you. You’re at an advantage tonight as you’re familiar with our duelling styles. Next time you’re attacked, you won’t know who’s under the mask, so it’s imperative you learn to deal with the unknown. Prepare yourself.’ Snape handed something to Remus. It was a flash of white in the darkness and Harry’s stomach flipped.

‘Wait,’ he called, but his shout was drowned out by the cracks of their disapparition. His chest felt tight. Snape wouldn’t give Remus a mask, not after last time. Besides, he didn’t have two of them.

The gnarled branches of the trees at the boundary grasped toward him as he watched for a change in the texture of the darkness. Snape had a way of blending into the shadows until it was too late. Remus was less subtle; he’d hear him before he saw him.

He spun around, his wand aloft, but the white expressionless mask took the air from his lungs and his arm faltered. He was back in the graveyard again. The grass had been wet that day too, the damp had soaked through to the skin as he’d screamed and writhed. He shook his head as his heart began to pound. It was bad enough that he kept revisiting the graveyard in his nightmares, he couldn’t face it when he was awake too. ‘I’m not doing it like this. Take it off.’

A spell shot towards him, the figure moving with his father’s finesse, and he stumbled back. There was another mask shining in the moonlight, it stood still, the black sockets staring. It was just Remus and his dad. Remus and dad, he repeated in his head as he sucked in breath after breath.

The wind rustled and he could hear the laughter again, echoing among the gravestones, all the worse coming from those blank faces. Hot waves of shame coursed through him, and his wand arm began to shake. ‘Dad, I don’t want to do this.’

There was a crack of apparition and a figure appeared directly in front of him, tall and all in black. ‘No, take it off. Take it off.’ He threw his wand on the ground, every breath coming fast and hard. His fingers began to tingle.

‘Severus-’

‘Pick up your wand,’ a low voice growled behind the mask.

‘Fuck off,’ he screamed, the words bursting out before he could think, tearing from his throat with the same wildness as his cries of pain had that night.

Two hands grabbed him tightly on each shoulder and wrenched him around. ‘Look at me. There’s no mask, it’s just me.’ It was Remus, his greying hair ruffled, and his eyes wide. ‘We’re going to sit down.’ He was already partway there, his knees losing their stability as his head began to swim, but Remus’ grip was tight, stopping from dropping unceremoniously onto the grass.

A light blue potion appeared under his nose in his father’s potion-stained fingers. He gripped the vial with a shaking hand that had nothing to do with his tremors and swallowed it in one gulp. The taste was familiar and in just a few seconds the clamp around his chest loosened, and his breathing slowly evened out. The calming potion didn’t numb the shame though, or the anger.

‘It was too soon. We don’t have to practice with the masks,’ Remus said, releasing the bruising grip his arms, but one hand rested on his shoulder, reassuring instead of steadying. Harry resisted the urge to shrug him off and twisted his fingers in the long strands of grass, staring at the thin green loops.

‘We do. All his training will be for nothing if he has a panic attack as soon as he sees a Death Eater. But,’ Snape said, emphasising the word and pausing as though he hoped Harry would finally look at him. He was going to be disappointed. Make that even more disappointed. ‘There might have been a better way of introducing it into your training. Particularly after last time.’

‘What happened last time?’ Remus asked and Harry almost looked up to see the outrage on Snape’s face at the implied criticism.

‘He didn’t hyperventilate. I would hardly have tried it again if he had,’ he snapped.

Snape was right. There was going to be a next time and he would be useless if he fell apart as soon as he saw a mask. But it wasn’t just the mask, it was the people behind them too. He’d felt sick when he’d seen Nott’s dad and so angry at just reading Lucius Malfoy’s name.

Snape dropped the mask he’d been wearing into his lap, and Harry shoved it off, finally looking up to level a dark glare at the Potions Master, who met his gaze unapologetically. Probably pissed off that he’d sworn at him and screamed. And in front of Remus.

‘Hold it,’ he said, waiting until Harry reluctantly complied. ‘You bested the people who wore these masks. I’m training you to defend yourself against them but it’s nothing you haven’t done before.’

‘I wasn’t like this before,’ he muttered. ‘Not after Quirrell or the basilisk or the dementors. It wasn’t even them that night. Voldemort was the one using the unforgivables, but I still feel sick when I see them, the masks or Nott’s dad. You said it would get better but I’m getting weaker.’

‘In a lot of ways what they did was worse,’ Remus said, producing a chocolate bar from one of his pockets and breaking off a line for Harry. ‘For another person, a parent even, to try to hurt a child or stand by and laugh as he was tortured, that’s more frightening than a basilisk doing what a basilisk does.’

Harry took a bite and a comforting warmth spread to the tips of his fingers.

‘It is not a matter of weakness regardless,’ Snape said. ‘I suspect that it is a visceral reminder of the most traumatic event of your life, and if I could make it so that you need never see these masks or those people again, I would. Instead, I have the much more unpleasant task of habituating you to it, which won’t be pleasant for either of us. I apologise for how I have handled it so far. I didn’t appreciate the subtlety required,’ he finished stiffly.

‘S’alright,’ Harry shrugged, pulling at the grass. ‘Sorry for telling you to eff off.’

Snape made a huffing noise that might have been a laugh. ‘Say that to me again in any other circumstance and you’ll be in a world of trouble.’

Harry finished his chocolate, grabbed his wand and stood up. The shaking had gone, and his arm was as steady as it was going to be. ‘Come on. I’m ready to go again.’