Harry looked around, trying to make out anything through the dark. He coughed at the dust floating around and settling in his throat as he breathed, cringing at the smell and taste of the stale air. He frowned at the thick air settling around him, feeling the way it tried to suffocate him and its odd temperature, both stuffy and chilled. More dust tickled his skin, creating layers of dirt on his cheeks and hands that he couldn't see through the dark. As he shifted to spin, trying to find anything, dust and stone crunched under his feet, making him frown again as he tried to understand where he was.

He stopped turning when he thought he saw the smallest of glints. In front of him, he thought the dark seemed just slightly thinner, slightly lighter as though there was something attempting to break through the heavy darkness. He stared at the spot hard, hoping for it to clear. He thought he saw the mist in the spot swirl as though disturbed by a wind that tried to blow it away.

He was going to walk towards the spot when a strange breeze brushed his cheek and a voice whispered incomprehensibly in his ear. He stilled and listened, trying to understand any of the whispered words. He winced as dirt rained on him, raising his arms to cover his head only to feel his elbows brush dirt walls. His heart began to pound as he felt around, feeling walls and a dirt ceiling close around him as though he was in a tiny space, like his cupboard at the Dursleys'. The whispering and swirling mist continued as he dragged his hands back and forth through the dirt.

"Filthy Muggle..."

Harry spun around at the clearly spat words that sounded like they came from directly behind him. His eyes darted around wildly, becoming desperate to find something or even a way out as he continued to scratch at the walls, his breathing getting faster and his heart pounding harder. He hated small, dark places.

"You look like that filthy Muggle..."

Harry spun around again at the new voice.

"Filthy Muggle!"

Harry flinched at the shout and jumped when a face flashed before him, but too fast for him to identify the person. Dust fell over him again, making him cough. The spot from before had thinned more and he narrowed his eyes. He thought he could make out a triangle, but was unable to see more as the dust falling on him grew heavier and the walls beside him began to move towards him. He immediately began to panic and screamed in fear just as he was blinded by a lime-green flash.

"Wait, so, what? Grey could have been involved in the attack?" Ron said, moving a knight to take one of Draco's rooks.

"That's what Dad and the rest of them seem to think," Harry said, adding some colour to his drawing. "It's all I find them talking about right now." 

It had been a few days since Severus and his godfathers told him about Grey, and it was as though the sudden mystery had ensnared his family. With Halloween in just under a week, the revitalization of the Potter murders was clearly weighing on Severus, Sirius, and Remus in particular, and Harry could see the strain, the uneasy confusion they all had as the night they'd lost everything was brought into question after so many long years. Any semblance of healing they'd managed was being chipped away and Harry could do nothing but watch.

"But, how could that be possible?" Hermione asked, glancing up from her book. "Is he a Death Eater?"

"Dad says he doesn't remember ever seeing Grey at meetings or even hearing his name," Harry said. "Lucius said the same thing."

"Was he connected to your parents in some other way?" Ron asked, watching Draco making his move. "Through the Ministry? Your father was an Auror."

"If he was, no one remembers or they're not telling me," Harry said, rubbing his finger over his drawing to smudge the coloured pencil he'd applied. He sighed. "I just don't get how it could be possible, how there could be anything we don't know about what happened."

"Actually, it's stranger that so much has been known," Hermione said and Harry, Ron, and Draco looked at her questioningly. She closed her book on her finger to give them her full focus. "There are only four people that know exactly what happened Halloween night: one was destroyed and wouldn't have exactly given an interview even if he hadn't been, two are dead, and one was an infant. There is no one that could have known what happened, not with the detail that is known."

"So, what are you saying?" Ron scowled as Draco took a bishop.

"A lot of what's known could very well be false," Hermione said.

Harry frowned down at his sketch. "Why would anyone lie about what happened?"

"Why would Grey?" Draco added pointedly. "If he wasn't a Death Eater, why would he want to lie about the Potters?"

"And Sirius' and Pettigrew's showdown," Ron said.

"And what exactly did he lie about?" Hermione said.

Harry drummed his coloured pencil on his sketchbook. He'd been haunted the last several days by the little he remembered of that Halloween. While he hated remembering, he also wished he could remember more, especially now. Maybe there was something he'd seen or heard that could fill in the new blanks, but had been lost through the years and incomprehension of a one-year-old mind. With a shake of his head and a deep frown, Harry sat up and gathered his pencils.

"You okay, Harry?" Draco asked and Harry saw the worry in his friends' eyes.

He nodded with a stiff smile. "I'm okay. I'm going to stay with Dad tonight."

"We're here, no matter what you find out," Hermione told him before he started walking away and he smiled at her.

"I know," Harry said, forever thankful for the friends and family he'd found over the last five years. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Flying after lunch?" Ron offered. "Beat some snakes again."

"Not happening, Weasley," Draco said. "Checkmate."

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, examining the board to see how he'd lost while Draco sat back with a grin of satisfaction.

Harry chuckled, hitching his bag onto his shoulder. "I'll meet you on the pitch."

Bidding them ‘good night', Harry left the Room of Requirement and wandered casually through the castle down to the dungeons. He couldn't stop thinking about his parents, hating that the tragedy that destroyed his life was ravaging him again. Yet, for as much as he hated what it was doing to him, he hated what it was doing to Severus, Sirius, and Remus more. He would always lament the loss of his parents and have a hole that could never truly be filled, but he hadn't known them, didn't remember anything about them. Severus, Sirius, and Remus had not only known Lily and James, but had loved and lost them. To have the night they lost their beloved friends brought up and questioned was causing them a torment even Harry couldn't understand, and he hated watching it happen. The three men had been through enough, especially in regards to Lily and James; they didn't deserve to go through it again. He didn't doubt his father's and godfathers' commitment to him, he knew they would never leave him, but he couldn't help but feel like this new mystery could break something or at least threaten to.

Harry sighed despondently and turned a corner only to come to a startled stop when he almost walked into Grey. He tensed and narrowed his eyes at the man as Grey looked him up and down with an irritated sneer.

"Potter," Grey said. "You'll be pleased to know your father has gotten your detention rescheduled."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said shortly, hating how Grey always responded to Severus being his father. It was as though Grey was disgusted with the idea or couldn't understand.

"Just can't do what you're supposed to, can you?" Grey said. "Never could apparently."

Harry frowned. "Meaning?"

He stiffened again when Grey took a step towards him and his expression turned into a glare.

"If you had died that night like you were supposed to, you would've taken him with you," Grey said in a low, angry voice. "He's back and people are dead because of you."

Harry clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth with rage and hurt.

"You've got quite the way of honouring your parents," Grey continued. "Cozying up with snakes and murderers, especially Snape. They would not be happy with you."

"And how would you know that?" Harry snapped.

"They didn't want you then and they certainly won't want you now," Grey sneered, acting as though Harry hadn't spoken. "Then again, has anyone ever really wanted you? If your own parents didn't, well..." he trailed off with a condescending shrug before brushing past Harry and disappearing around the corner.

Harry watched him go, practically vibrating with anger and pain at the man's blunt callousness.

"My word! Do control yourself, young man!"

Harry blinked at the exclamation and turned to a large painting of a Victorian-era woman with flowers flying around her. He cursed when he spotted the scorch mark in the bottom left corner, partly on the frame and partly on the canvas. He hadn't even noticed his excess magic making an appearance.

"Sorry, ma'am," Harry muttered and pushed some of his magic at the painting, easily repairing the damage.

He gave her an apologetic smile and continued his path to the dungeons, mind still whirling with Grey's comments. He buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and stared at his feet as he walked, eyebrows furrowed and attention miles away. He barely came back to himself in time to not walk right past his father's quarters, letting himself in. He dropped his bag on the lounge chair and pulled off his robe, draping it over the chair's back. He was heading to his room when he heard muffled voices coming from the closed study and changed direction, coming to a stop outside the door to listen.

"This doesn't make any sense," he heard Kingsley say and heard papers shuffle around. "The number of inmates changes, but no inmates died and there were no new inmates during those months."

"Escapees?" Severus questioned.

"Sirius was the first to ever escape," Kingsley said. "Two prisoners just...went missing, at the same time as the Halloween attack."

"How is that possible?" he heard Remus chime in.

"Hell if I know," Kingsley said with a sigh. "I suppose it's possible records went missing. Everything was pretty much a disaster at that time."

"Is there any way to find more documents on Azkaban and the prisoners specifically?" Remus asked. "Surely, if prisoners went missing, records including them would just suddenly stop."

"I can try," Kingsley said. "Bertrand isn't exactly what I would call helpful, but I'll see what I can do."

"Time to wrap this up, gentlemen," Severus said. "I have a son to have a serious discussion with."

Harry's eyes widened as the study door opened and he was looking into the disapproving eyes of his father, Kingsley and Remus at the desk behind him. They were gathering up the multiple papers and parchments littering the desk, faces drawn over what they'd been discussing.

"I'll go see what Sirius found at Gringotts," Remus said quietly, giving Harry a poignant look as he brushed past with Kingsley.

Seeing the sternness in Severus' face, Harry desperately wished his godfathers would stay.

"Dad, I-" Harry started.

"Unless you are about to give me a very good reason for eavesdropping when you know better than to do so, I do not wish to hear it," Severus interrupted and Harry dropped his head, ashamed.

His father truly didn't ask much of him, but eavesdropping was one of the few things Severus was strict about enforcing. After all, eavesdropping had led to Voldemort getting the prophecy and killing Lily and James.

"Have you had dinner?" Severus asked stiffly, stepping out of the study and closing the door.

"A little," Harry said, and he was immediately turned around and directed to the kitchen. He sat quietly as Severus sat to his left and tapped the table, two dishes of chicken, potatoes, and Yorkshire pudding appearing.

"Eat," Severus ordered and Harry did so without complaint though slowly.

They were silent as they ate, tension hovering between them in the face of Harry's disobedience. He knew he shouldn't have listened-this certainly wasn't the first time he'd committed this infraction-and he hated making Severus angry. He sighed to himself as he pushed his potatoes around the plate.

"I'm sorry," Harry said eventually, bringing Severus' eyes to him. "I know I shouldn't have listened and I don't really have a good reason why I did."

"Do you have a reason at all?" Severus asked.

Harry thought back and shook his head. "No, not really."

Severus sighed and put his fork down, lacing his fingers together above his plate as he looked at Harry. "You know why this is a rule."

Harry nodded. "If there's something I need to know, I'll be included or you'll tell me."

"Precisely," Severus said. "I also prefer to have adequate information so I can provide better explanations for you."

Harry nodded again. "I know. I guess I don't want to make you have to keep talking about Grey and Halloween. It upsets you. It upsets all of you."

"I would rather have to face that pain than have you potentially misunderstand something or hear something harmful," Severus said.

Harry dropped his eyes to his plate where he was ripping apart his Yorkshire pudding. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I'm not angry, I'm-"

Harry groaned and dropped his Yorkshire pudding, burying his face in his hands. "Bloody hell, please, don't finish that! That's even worse!"

Severus chuckled and Harry scowled at his father through his fingers. Severus had propped his face between his index finger and thumb as he gazed at Harry with amused fondness.

"Good to know I've succeeded somewhere in my parenting," Severus said mirthfully and Harry dropped his hands, rolling his eyes at his father's amusement, but pleased the tension had passed. "Have you eaten enough?"

Harry popped half of his torn Yorkshire pudding into his mouth and grabbed the other half with a nod. Severus tapped the table again and their dishes disappeared. The man then gestured for them to head to the sitting room where they settled on the sofa, Severus on one end and Harry on the other, feet in his father's lap with a grin upon kicking off his trainers.

"Now, what did you hear?" Severus asked.

"Just the last little bit," Harry confessed. "Just the stuff about missing prisoners."

"It is quite puzzling," Severus said.

"Do you think it's connected or that Grey's involved?" Harry asked, adjusting the pillow behind his back to make the arm of the sofa more comfortable to lay against.

"We truly do not know," Severus admitted. "It would seem there are many questionable things to explore."

"Anything else I can know about?" Harry asked, settling further down on the sofa so he was laying down.

Severus' hand came to rest warmly on Harry's shin. "There are a couple of reports that are concerning. One reported that Lily's and James' wands did not require examination, and another reported that Sirius' wand had been examined and found to have cast the curse responsible for the murders of Pettigrew and the Muggles."

"And neither of those things is true," Harry said and Severus shook his head. "Why does it matter that Mum and Dad's wands weren't examined?"

"The last spells they cast could inform what did or did not happen that night," Severus explained. "By not having that information, there are questions that could not be answered."

"And saying Sirius' wand was examined ensured he went to Azkaban," Harry said, Severus nodding in confirmation. "Why would anyone lie about that?"

"I do not know, but we are trying to find out," Severus said. "Grey worked each scene and was involved in writing the reports, but it was someone else that signed off on them."

"Who?"

"Someone named Elias Moreshire."

"Do any of you know him?" Harry asked.

"Not that any of us can remember," Severus said. "Kingsley is searching for his personal records."

"How could he or Grey be involved, but Sirius doesn't know them? He and James were Aurors," Harry asked.

"Perhaps their paths never crossed. The DMLE is quite a large department, and Sirius and James were not there very long before..." Severus said, trailing off just slightly. "Unfortunately, anything is possible."

Harry just sighed his agreement before remembering the things Grey had said on his way to the dungeons. "I think he knew them."

"Excuse me?"

"Grey. I think he knew Mum and Dad," Harry clarified and Severus looked at him curiously. "I ran into him on my way here."

"You had better not be about to tell me you got another detention," Severus said, looking unimpressed.

"Oi! Have some faith!" Harry said, affronted. "I was walking down a hallway. How could I possibly get detention?"

"You have managed it before, son," Severus said sarcastically, smirking.

Harry scowled half-heartedly. "No, I didn't get detention," he said petulantly.

Severus laughed lightly.

"He mentioned Mum and Dad though," Harry said once the amusement passed. "He said I was supposed to die and I've caused everything that's happened because I didn't die. He also said they'd be angry about me being with you and that they didn't want me, that no one wants me."

Severus' face had tightened with each word said. "Harry-"

"I know it's not true, don't worry," Harry interrupted quickly. "It's just that he talked about them like he knew them and like he knew what was supposed to happen on Halloween, or what he thought was supposed to happen."

"It is all becoming quite the mystery," Severus said quietly and Harry heard the underlying pain he'd seen in his family since their investigation began.

"Dad?" Harry said after a few minutes of contemplative silence and Severus turned to him again. "I don't know what we'll find out, but, whatever it is...will it change things?"

"If you are asking will I reconsider this," Severus gestured at the both of them, "the answer is no. Nothing short of hell on earth will make me give you up."

"You've said we're in the middle of hell on earth," Harry pointed out.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Precisely."

Harry blinked uncomprehendingly and Severus chuckled.

"There is absolutely nothing in this world that will convince me to give you up," Severus said firmly, but still gently. "You are my son and nothing will change that."

Harry smiled, warmed, and they fell into another comfortable silence. Severus summoned a book and read as he absently rubbed Harry's leg comfortingly, and Harry found himself dozing. He fell asleep before he knew it, before he could remember to mention his strange dream, comforted in his father's presence, but found every dream tinted green and echoing with shouts of ‘Avada Kedavra!'.

Harry huffed as he picked at a gouge in the desktop, the mark clearly made by someone dragging their sharpened quill over the spot again and again. Likely out of sheer boredom. He wished he could add to it, just for something to do. He glanced at his watch and wanted to groan at the slow passage of time. He had only been in detention for thirty minutes; still an hour and a half to go. He flicked his eyes up to Grey, casting the man an unseen glare. He despised detention with Grey. He was forced to just sit there, not allowed to do a thing, while Grey did whatever he was doing at his desk. Today, he was vigorously writing though Harry could tell it was not essays. Something else had the man's full attention.

He rolled his eyes and sat back heavily, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing dully around the Defence classroom. 

"How did Snape come to be your...father?" Grey asked suddenly and Harry looked at him, somewhat startled to see the man staring piercingly at him.

"Long story," Harry said shortly, unsure why the man would care.

"Interesting choice," Grey muttered and Harry narrowed his eyes. "What happened that night? Halloween?"

"How would I know?" Harry snapped. "I was only a year old. Besides, you worked in the Ministry. Surely you heard all about it."

He saw Grey's body stiffen and a strange flash in the eyes. Grey was definitely hiding something and it had to do with his parents. Harry's eyes narrowed further. He didn't know where Grey was going to take the conversation, but it was interrupted by a scroll popping into existence in front of the man. It unrolled itself and Harry watched Grey's eyes dart back and forth as he read, eyes widening minutely as he did.

"Your detention is not over," Grey said as he stood suddenly. "Stay here or you will be spending Halloween night with me, Snivellus be damned."

Harry fought not to react as Grey rushed past him and out of the classroom. He waited a couple extra minutes after the door closed before moving, thoughts racing with Grey's words. The man had definitely known James at the very least; no one but the Marauders had called Severus that particular nickname. Subtly sending his excess magic at the door to lock it, Harry hurried up to Grey's desk to find what he'd been working on, hoping for a clue about what the man was so clearly hiding.

The desk was a mess, covered in papers that seemed to be on anything and everything. He frowned, shifting papers around until he found parchment with what seemed to be the start of a letter, reading the two short sentences with furrowed eyebrows.

He's alive. We failed.

It had no addressee or anything else to indicate who it was for or what it was referring to. He pushed it aside and continued digging through the messy desk, moving on to open drawers. He paused when, in one drawer under the course textbooks, he spotted a brown manila envelope. Glancing at the door, he pulled the envelope out and quickly opened it, reaching in for its contents. He grasped a few papers and pulled them out, finding himself even more confused as he read the case files. There were three, one for a young woman and two for men. He found his heart racing as he recognized the last name of, not only the two men, but also the young woman, and as he read through the woman's file, finding it to be a report of her brutal murder.

The woman was Adeline Moreshire. She'd been murdered at sixteen after hours of torture by three infamous Death Eaters: Antonin Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange, and Rodolphus Lestrange.

The other two files detailed the life, capture, and subsequent deaths of two Death Eaters: Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange