Harry slowly circled his room, dancing his fingers over every surface almost reverently. He could hardly believe what that room—that manor—had become, despite the people, or, maybe, because of the people. He wasn’t sure, to be honest, just like he wasn’t completely sure about his entire range of feelings. He didn’t want to think about them too much since they were going to be back at Hogwarts in mere hours and the last seven weeks were no longer allowed to have happened. It was hard, though, to let go of whatever it had all been.

“Mr. Potter.”

He turned away from the window, ending his gaze at the grounds that had him remembering his lessons with Alexei, his meals and conversations with Leif, his walks—and fights—with Malfoy, and his summer with Snape. Looking at the professor in the doorway, he remembered last night and glanced at the man’s arms. He remembered the pain he’d been in, the abject fear he’d felt, and how, in the middle of bleeding, Snape had offered comfort. None of them were ending the summer on solid footing, unsure where they really stood while knowing what they had to do, so receiving and accepting comfort from Snape was odd. Yet, it had been everything he’d ever wanted all his life. Why did it have to come from Snape and right when it had to end?

Such vicious irony.

“It is time to leave,” Snape said.

There was that tug he’d been feeling—and ignoring—for days now. He nodded and walked over to the bed, pulling his trunk off and swinging his bag over his shoulder. He headed downstairs at Snape’s gesture as the man crossed the wide area to Malfoy’s room. In the downstairs study, Leif and Alexei were there. He stood next to Alexei who briefly rubbed his back, putting his trunk in front of him to wait. He glanced at the fireplace, remembering when he first came through it all those weeks ago with a busted leg. He’d never expected his time there to turn out the way it had.

He wasn’t sure what to expect now, returning to his friends and Hogwarts and the way things were before. He was sure it wasn’t going to be as easy as he hoped.

Snape and Malfoy entered the study then, and he met the grey eyes. Something ran through him, something he couldn’t—wouldn’t—identify and a similar something flashed in Malfoy’s eyes. He didn’t want to ignore it, pretend he hadn’t seen it, but he had to. Real life was about to resume. So, he looked down, tapping the handle of his trunk.

He hardly heard Leif’s and Alexei’s warnings about the struggles he and Malfoy would likely face with their magic as they rejoined throngs of students and staff. He couldn’t help the dread and already simmering anger about the Ministry’s interference at Hogwarts. They expected him to just take this professor and the entire Ministry calling him a liar? He scoffed to himself. They had all better lower their expectations. He would not hesitate to argue for the truth. He would not allow Cedric’s memory to be disrespected by people lying about how he died.

“We will see you soon, but be safe,” Alexei said and he was startled when the vampire pulled him into a firm hug, followed by Leif. He blinked quickly and avoided eye contact.

Leaving all of this was feeling more and more impossible.

“Mr. Potter, it is time to get you to Headquarters,” Snape said and Harry watched him wait expectantly by the fireplace.

“Right,” he said, grabbing his trunk again. He started toward Snape, looking at Malfoy. He couldn’t leave like this. He stopped in front of the Slytherin and held his hand out, watching the confusion cross the other boy’s face.

“Thanks for not being a Death Eater hell bent on my death.”

Malfoy smirked at him and Harry thought it could have been a laugh if they had such a relationship. He was pleasantly surprised when Malfoy did finally grasp his hand.

“Sure, though I can neither confirm nor deny my desire for your death.”

Harry had to hold back his own chuckle, settling for an amused grin. “Still a ferret.”

“And you’re still a prat.”

He dropped Malfoy’s hand then and his grin slid off his face as he joined Snape at the fireplace. He took some powder from Snape and stepped in, turning to look, one last time, at the place, the people—the home?—he was being forced to leave behind.

“Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!” he said and dropped the powder, saying a silent ‘goodbye’ as he spun away.

He more or less fell out of the fireplace in Grimmauld’s sitting room, as he usually did, cursing quietly when he dropped his trunk, narrowly missing his toes. As he righted it and looked up, he became extremely aware of the insistent tugging and dull ache in his chest. He frowned at himself, absently massaging his chest as though it would suddenly make the feeling go away. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t, no different from the last several days. He stepped aside to allow Snape through.

“You have everything, Potter?” Snape asked, looking down at him.

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir.” There wasn’t much to have.

He was shocked when Snape put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Be safe.”

He had no time to respond as footsteps and voices echoed in the house, and Snape disappeared back through the fire. The ache increased and his frown deepened. However, he wiped it away as Hermione, the Weasleys, Sirius, Moody, and the woman he’d finally learned was named Tonks entered the sitting room.

“Hey, kid,” Sirius said, flinging an arm around his shoulders. “Bet you’re glad to get out of that safe house and back to Hogwarts.”

Was he?

“Yeah, I guess so,” Harry said. “It ended up not being so bad there.”

“Wish I could go to King’s Cross with you,” Sirius said. “Dumbledore said it’s too dangerous.” The bitterness in his godfather was even more palpable than Snape’s bitterness.

“It is, Sirius,” Harry said. “We don’t know who might be there watching. I don’t want to see you back in Azkaban.”

“I know, just feel like I’m going a little crazy in here,” Sirius said, a shadow coming over his face.

Harry gave a small smile. “I know, but it’s better here than Azkaban or dead.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said and Harry couldn’t help but think his godfather didn’t completely agree. “Send an owl or call me with the mirror once you’re settled, yeah?”

“I will,” Harry said and he hugged the man before watching Sirius leave the room with a frown. He couldn’t help but feel a small prick of hurt at the thought that Sirius didn’t seem to care about his safety despite how it would hurt Harry. Wasn’t he worth staying safe for?

It wasn’t long before they were all Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and then taking the horrible Portkey that nearly made Harry sick to King’s Cross. The platform was already bustling and he felt his magic act up for the first time. He wasn’t impacted by magical signatures the way Malfoy was, but, being surrounded by so much magic, his wanted to know if anything was compatible like Snape, Malfoy, Leif, and Alexei. He could tell it would be difficult to keep his magic under control with so much other magic around. There was something about the four people he had left behind that just seemed to help his magic stay calm, in control, and even happy.

He pushed it down for now, knowing the loss of control would happen in response to his emotions, and followed his friends across the platform. Mrs. Weasley forced them to a halt as she drilled them all on what they may have forgotten, to eat on the train, to listen to Moody and Tonks, and to stay out of trouble. She swatted at Fred and George as they joked that they wouldn’t be in trouble, everyone else would be, for they couldn’t control what was done with their product after it was sold.

Mrs. Weasley pulled the twins aside for scolding. Ginny hurried off to find her friends. Moody made his way onto the train while Tonks began strolling the platform. Harry was left with Ron and Hermione. They gave their trunks over to be stored and then gazed around, both on guard and to find any of their other friends.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron said and Harry looked at him, seeing disgust twist his face. “The little bastard’s alive.”

He knew exactly who Ron was talking about and he spun around. It was hard to spot anyone with how crowded it was, but, eventually, he managed to find Malfoy near one of the first train cars. Just like at the manor, their eyes met and something passed between them. He could see little tremors periodically running through the blonde’s body and knew he was fighting for control with all of the signatures and systems around.

He watched as Malfoy schooled his features, pulling his classic sneer onto his face and strutting towards them, not caring if he bumped people on the way. He knew what Malfoy was doing. This was normal; staring at each other was not.

When Malfoy intentionally threw his shoulder into Harry’s as he passed, Harry quickly gathered a glare.

“Watch it, Potter,” Malfoy spat even as both of them looked at each other for a second with wide eyes again as their magic tangled happily. He saw a minute decrease in Malfoy’s tension and knew his magic had helped to settle Malfoy’s in that moment.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” he snapped, ensuring their normal was kept up.

“Oi, you should’ve stayed gone, ferret,” Ron said and Harry had to stop from frowning at his friend. He saw Malfoy’s sneer twitch and knew the blonde had felt a sting at being confronted with the fact that no one would want him at Hogwarts.

Well, almost no one.

He wanted Malfoy there.

And wasn’t that just something.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, Weasel,” Malfoy drawled before pulling himself into the next train car, disappearing inside.

“Since he’s not dead, he has to be a Death Eater,” Ron said and Harry turned back to his friends, frowning this time.

“He’s only fifteen,” Harry said.

“So what?” Ron said. “Don’t need a Mark to be a Death Eater in training. They’re all mini Death Eaters.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Slytherins,” Ron said. “Not surprising considering their Head of House probably recruits them on day one.”

“Snape’s a spy,” Harry said, keeping it quiet so no one overheard.

“Has to be a Death Eater to spy on them,” Ron said.

“Yeah, fine, he was a Death Eater, he’s got a Mark, but he’s not one of them,” Harry said, unsure why he felt the need to defend the man he was supposed to be furious at and hate.

“You don’t know that,” Ron said. “Look at how he’s treated all of us, especially you.”

“Being a bad teacher and hating students means he’s a Death Eater?” Harry said. “We’re pretty bad students and hate him, does that mean we’re Death Eaters?”

“What, no!” Ron said, appalled. “We’re Gryffindors.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Peter Pettigrew ring any bells?” he said angrily. “Being a bastard doesn’t mean Snape’s a loyal Death Eater and Malfoy definitely isn’t one.”

“Why are you defending them?”

Harry glared. “Because maybe they could be good to have on our side one day.”

Ron gaped in disbelief, making Harry shake his head. He pushed his way through the crowds and to a close train car, pulling himself inside.

“Harry!”

 He glanced over his shoulder as Ron and Hermione quickly caught up to him.

“Is everything alright?” Hermione asked, clearly confused and concerned about his behaviour.

Harry snorted to himself.

Not even a little bit, he thought, glancing into compartments to find an empty one. He was unsure what to tell his friends. He couldn’t tell them about his summer, but there were some things they needed to know. They would find out eventually.

He found an empty compartment and slipped inside, Ron and Hermione close behind. They closed the door and sat down on the seat across from him.

“Look, there’s a lot I need to tell you,” Harry said. “Just lay off Snape and Malfoy, yeah? We don’t know anything about them for sure, and we could need them later on.”

“But—”

“Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters and not only Slytherins can be Death Eaters,” Harry said. “Voldemort is only getting stronger. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“You’re right, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s bad enough the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts. We should all be trying to work together.”

Ron scoffed. “Not with the ferret.”

Harry glared again at Ron instantly doing exactly what he told them not to. “Enough. You don’t know what happened to him this summer. Stop assuming.”

Ron didn’t have a chance to answer as their compartment door opened, revealing Seamus, Dean, and a few other Gryffindors.

“Shouldn’t be surprised to hear you defending snakes, Potter,” Seamus spat.

Harry tensed, glowering at the Irishman. “The hell does that mean?”

“A snake defending snakes,” Seamus said.

“I take it you’ve been reading the Prophet,” Harry said.

“Damn right. The only way to find out about anything around this place,” Seamus said. “Between your and Dumbledore’s secrets.”

“Oh yeah, got loads of those with him,” Harry said sarcastically. “Got a club and everything. Want to join?”

“With liars? Not bloody likely,” Seamus said.

“You really think I’m the liar, not the Prophet?” Harry said in some disbelief, though, he supposed, he shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t as though it were difficult for Hogwarts’ student body to turn on him, if the last four years were any indication.

“I think no one really knows what happened in that maze,” Seamus said and Harry leapt to his feet, rage filling him as he remembered. He felt his magic begin to swirl, reacting to his building emotions.

“You know what happened,” Harry growled. “I told you and Dumbledore told you.”

“Yeah, well, Dumbledore’s a bit off his rocker, isn’t he?” Seamus said. “And being his favourite, can’t trust much from you. Covering up what you did, Potter?”

Harry clenched his fists, feeling his magic leaking into them. “And what do you think I did?”

Seamus stepped so close their noses were nearly touching, fury rolling off both. “Well, Cedric didn’t drop dead on his own, did he?”

There was nothing Harry could do to control the power that poured out of him as his rage exploded. A vicious wind picked up and started whipping around the compartment, heating up at the same time. As he threw his fist and it connected with Seamus’ nose, he barely registered the yellow and red tendrils twisting around his hand, wrist, and forearm.

“The hell are you doing, Potter?” Dean shouted, catching Seamus as he stumbled backwards, his hand flying to his bloodied nose.

“You’re crazy!” Seamus yelled. “Going dark, he is!”

“Get out of here, you wanker!” Ron shouted from behind Harry.

“Stay away from me, Potter,” Seamus spat.

“With pleasure,” Harry snapped and watched as Seamus stormed out with Dean and the other Gryffindors. Ron shoved past him to close the door of their compartment before spinning around to stare at him with wide eyes. The magic was still acting as a tornado around them, heating up the space and throwing all of their hair around.

“Harry?” Hermione said and he looked at her. His chest tightened at the fear he saw in her eyes and he dropped his eyes to his still clenched fists. He needed to bring his magic back, he needed to stop. He couldn’t risk hurting someone.

He slammed his eyes closed and, even though he needed to leave them behind, he thought about Prince Manor. He thought about his sessions with Alexei, the calm of Leif, the moment with Malfoy’s magic on the platform, and of the feel of Snape’s physical and magical comfort. Memory was all he could have, it would have to be enough to help settle his magic. He couldn’t have them, their magic, so the remembrance of them had to be enough.

“Paidí?”

Harry’s eyes flew open and he stared up at Leif, astonished to see the man standing in front of him. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see Leif or Alexei again.

“Can you get a hold?” Leif asked and Harry shook his head. Leif reached out then to gently, but firmly grasp Harry’s wrists. “Feel me, paidí. Same magic as his.”

Harry nodded and tried to focus, feeling the familiarity of Aether Magic. It felt like Malfoy’s magic, but different. There was more power behind it and it was calming, but not nearly as easily connected to as Malfoy’s or even Snape’s. Something about their magic felt like his was supposed to connect with it. Despite this, his magic still loved Leif’s and allowed the immortal’s to tangle, tugging his gently into submission. There was still a comfort to it, a steadiness Leif was able to bring that allowed his magic to slowly calm.

“What happened?” Leif asked quietly, still working with Harry’s wild magic.

“Seamus…said I’m lying,” Harry said.

Leif sighed. “Try to push past it. You know the truth, as do your friends, and all of us.”

Harry nodded, trying to listen. Acknowledging the truth was hard as Cedric fell in front of his eyes over and over, but he forced his way through it. Seamus was an idiot. He knew the truth. They knew the truth.

Slowly, the pressure in his chest lessened and the hot wind storm died down. He was still trembling slightly and his breathing was heavier, but his magic was settled. He opened his eyes to meet Leif’s again.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, aware of Ron and Hermione behind him and staring at them.

“Alexei’s here too,” Leif said. “We’ll explain more at another time, but we are going to be at Hogwarts part-time with you. We’ll be continuing your training.”

“Really?” Harry said hopefully, thrilled that he didn’t have to forget about everything. “But Dumbledore—”

“Has no say in this,” Leif said and gave a mischievous grin. “It’s like magic.”

Harry chuckled, so glad to have Leif and Alexei still in his life. He didn’t have to forget all of it after all.

“Will you be alright?”

Harry nodded. “I think so.”

Leif smiled, squeezed his hands and left, closing the door behind him. Harry let out a breath and turned to his friends.

“What the hell is going on?” Ron demanded.

“Who was that? What is going on with your magic?” Hermione asked.

Harry sighed and collapsed back onto the seat. “I told you, there’s a lot that you should probably know.”

Ron and Hermione sat across from him again and waited, staring at him expectantly. He took a deep breath and told them everything except for what his uncle did to him and anything to do with Snape and Malfoy. He changed and embellished details to fit with the narrative that he was alone at a safe house. He explained Leif and Alexei as trainers Dumbledore had enlisted to help with his new Elemental Magic during his stay at the safe house. He explained the prophecy, saying he learned all about it through a vision and that he learned about Snape’s involvement with it from Dumbledore when he confronted the headmaster. He finished with the final vision, hoping explaining Snape’s role and Malfoy’s death sentence would help them understand. He couldn’t like the Slytherins—he didn’t like them, he tried to convince himself—but his friends needed to understand that they weren’t the enemy and they were all on the same side.

Shockingly, Ron and Hermione had managed to remain silent throughout his account. Once done, he leaned back and looked at them, waiting for the explosions and questions. The silence stretched and he raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t just be normal once, can you?” Ron said deadpanned and Harry devolved into laughter.

“Where would be the fun in that?” Harry quipped once his laughs died down.

“Wouldn’t mind it on occasion,” Ron said in a mock grumble and Harry chuckled again.

They settled back to discuss all he’d told them before moving on to theorize about what the year would hold with the Ministry’s Umbridge teaching. He told them what Leif and Alexei had said, that she would try to push the story that Harry and Dumbledore were lying and would try to control what they were learning since the Ministry believed Dumbledore was building an army of students. Hermione was appalled that their education could be in peril during such an important year. Ron gave some insight into the mess that was the Ministry ever since June. He wasn’t as broken up about the possible disruption to their schooling as Hermione, but he was still anxious that they wouldn’t learn to defend themselves against the threat growing and looming outside Hogwarts. He was appalled at the Gryffindors’ seemingly easy belief that Harry was a coldblooded murderer at fourteen.

“Idiots, the lot of them,” Ron said. “Don’t listen to them. Seamus, Dean…they’re just scared.”

“They should be,” Harry said.

“But not of you. You’re not dark.”

“No, but it’s out there and it will find a way into Hogwarts if Umbridge and the Ministry keep it all quiet.”

Hours had passed and it had grown dark by the time their conversation halted. They were, at some point, joined by Neville and a girl Harry had never met, Luna from Ravenclaw. She was odd, but Harry could appreciate the calm optimism she seemed to exude. She also didn’t believe a word the Prophet said which certainly earned her points in Harry’s book.

Harry stepped out into the corridor to stretch and get himself a sandwich, having found a small pouch of coins and note from Snape telling him to eat. As he chose a roast beef sandwich and a chocolate frog, a scuffle down the corridor drew his attention. He looked just in time to see a group of Slytherins disappear into a compartment. He frowned, instantly remembering the call put out for Malfoy’s punishment.

“Harry?”

He looked at Ron and Hermione who had joined him in the corridor and were giving him questioning looks.

“A bunch of Slytherins just went into a compartment down there,” Harry said. “Sounded like they were fighting or something.”

“So what?” Ron said.

“What about Malfoy?” Harry said. “I told you they’re going to be after him.”

“It’s only Malfoy,” Ron said with a shrug.

“You shouldn’t get involved,” Hermione said. “You don’t want to become a target as well.”

“I’m a target no matter what, Hermione,” Harry said, looking between his friends with furrowed eyebrows. “And you think we should just let them hurt Malfoy? Maybe kill him or bring him to Voldemort to be tortured and killed?”

“Of course we don’t want that,” Hermione said, “but it really isn’t something you should be worried about.”

“Well, I am!” Harry snapped. “Just because we don’t like someone, we let them die?”

“It’s what he would do,” Ron said. “I say he’s made his choices. Let him deal with the fallout.”

“He chooses not to be a Death Eater, so he deserves to suffer?” Harry said.

“No, of course not,” Hermione said, “but…it’s still Malfoy.”

“Exactly,” Ron said. “He deserves to pay for everything he’s done to us. Malfoys deserve to suffer.”

Harry glared at his friends. He couldn’t believe them. Even when he hated Malfoy, he never would have wanted anything as awful as what was likely waiting for the blonde to happen to him. Even the Dursleys, as horrible as they were, hadn’t deserved to die.

He was going to continue arguing when the door to the compartment the Slytherins had disappeared into suddenly shattered as Goyle flew through it into the corridor, clearly unconscious. He heard muffled yelling and banging, and he instantly knew Malfoy was in trouble.

Dropping his sandwich and ignoring his friends calling for him, he dashed down the corridor, skidding into the compartment Goyle had fallen out of. He stepped over Goyle’s crumpled body and shoved aside what was left of the sliding door to see Flora and Hestia unconscious on the seats, and Nott standing over the limp body of Malfoy, punching over and over. He didn’t understand the feelings of rage and fear that filled him at the sight of a helpless and bloody Malfoy, but he didn’t dwell. Instead, he used them to channel his Air Magic and he flung Nott off of Malfoy, slamming him against the opposing wall and window, dropping him into a heap like Goyle just above Malfoy’s head.

Harry fell beside Malfoy, taking in the bruised, battered, and bloodied face. The blonde was breathing, but it was hitching every few inhales and blood was trickling from his mouth.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

He quickly glanced over his shoulder. Ron and Hermione were staring at the scene with wide eyes.

“He needs help,” Harry said. “Find Moody or Tonks.”

“But—”

“Go!” Harry yelled. “He’s just a kid like us! We can’t let him die!”

Ron and Hermione were clearly still hesitant, but they took off after a few moments, leaving him to turn back to Malfoy. He didn’t know if the blonde was actually dying, but he did need help regardless. Looking at the hurt Slytherin, he could tell he would be unable to just turn his back on everything from the last seven weeks.

“Just hang on, Malfoy,” Harry muttered only to curse when the blonde released a deep, shuddering breath and blood poured from his mouth.

They’re taking too long, he thought desperately. He looked around the compartment, hoping to somehow find help there. Then he remembered.

In seconds, he had the ball of air created and whispered, “Malfoy needs help.” He let it go and felt it go in search of Leif.

Harry felt the Air Magic release a few seconds later and knew his message had been received. “Okay, you’ll be okay. Leif’s coming,” he said to Malfoy, reaching out without thinking and grasping the blonde’s hand.

At the contact, a power rushed through him. His Elemental Magic rushed out of him, meeting with Malfoy’s swirling Aether Magic. Like it had so many times that summer, their magic tangled together, but something was different. Malfoy’s magic was pulling at his, similar to when Malfoy had accidentally drained his core, but this was gentle, guiding his to wrap around Malfoy’s body and core. His magic was going willingly and he could feel Malfoy’s pulse the more they both connected.

“Harry!”

Still holding onto Malfoy’s hand and keeping their magic intertwined, he swung his gaze over his shoulder, relief filling him at the sight of both Leif and Alexei.

“He needs help,” Harry said despite the situation being obvious.

Leif squeezed into the compartment onto Malfoy’s other side. “Is your magic connected?”

“I…I think so,” Harry said, unsure exactly what Leif was asking. “I think he’s using mine somehow.”

Leif took Malfoy’s other hand and put his free hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This is part of what your magic can do together and the Life Bond. He is weak and is using your magic to help himself heal. Can you hold on?”

Harry nodded. There was a definite drain on his power happening, but it almost felt symbiotic. For every bit of magic Malfoy took, he seemed to replenish a little of it. Gripping Malfoy’s hand, Harry watched as Leif proceeded to cast numerous spells on the Slytherin, seeming to heal at least some of the damage. The more minor injuries closed while the more severe simply lessened. Blood stopped leaving Malfoy’s mouth and his breathing evened out. As Malfoy was healed, his magic began to pull back from Harry’s, detangling and ceasing its draw.

“You can let go now, paidí,” Leif said. “He will be alright.”

Harry glanced at Leif, unsure, but pulled his magic back completely and released Malfoy’s hand at the man’s look of encouragement. He looked up at Alexei when the vampire touched his back.

“Are you alright?” Alexei asked and Harry nodded again. “Come. Let’s give Draco some space.”

Harry looked at Malfoy, realizing he was stirring. He began to get to his feet when a hand lightly grasping his stopped him. He met the barely open grey eyes.

“Potter,” Malfoy whispered. “Thank you.”

Harry gave a small smile. “Screw destiny, remember?”

Malfoy just squeezed his hand slightly and let go. Harry pushed himself to his feet and allowed Alexei to lead him away, back to his compartment of friends though his thoughts remained with Malfoy.