Breakfast hadn't been this stifled and awkward since Harry's first week at Spinner's End. Harry remained quiet and withdrawn, feeling rather depressed about the fight from the previous evening. Draco had spent most of last night locked in the bathroom, and had refused to speak to Harry when he at last emerged. He was almost impressively good at the silent treatment; Harry practically felt invisible.

Draco had a way of making his foul moods known to all, and his scowl was practically beaconing out his misery and fury that following morning. He was glowering at both Harry and Snape, which was thoroughly unpleasant. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't summon up the familiar old irritation that Draco’s sullen mood would normally trigger, because he knew Draco too well, now. He could see the hurt beneath the glare, and all he felt in response was shame.

Harry assumed Snape was just used to Draco's various moods by now, since he just left the other boy to his sulking and spent breakfast quizzing Harry on what he had and hadn't packed, reminding him to pick up all of the correct books in Diagon Alley, and other nonsense that felt far too parental for Harry's liking. He clearly hadn't realised that Draco's sullenness wasn't one of his typical bad moods, but the result of a more significant conflict.

And as much as Harry tried to convince himself that Draco was being ridiculous, that he hadn't even bothered to ask Harry about the letter before jumping to conclusions, he still felt the overwhelming urge to apologise, to make things right. That was certainly strange, since this was Draco Malfoy. Harry shouldn't value his company at all…

But he did.

And even more strangely, he was actually glad that Snape didn't know why Draco was upset today. Harry was worried he'd be disappointed that Harry had sent that nosy letter, or with him over Ron -

Since when did Harry care about disappointing Snape? The world really had gone mad…

But whether or not it had, Harry knew two things. One, he had to explain the truth to Draco, because he cared enough about their fragile friendship to actually fight for it, and two, he needed to have that conversation without Snape around, because Harry didn't think he could bear the man's disappointment if what had really happened was revealed.

But at Spinner's End, at the very least, it seemed as though that private conversation was not meant to be. Snape followed Harry and Draco upstairs while Harry threw a couple of last-minute things into his trunk, and levitated his belongings downstairs. Harry picked up Hedwig’s cage, gave her an Owl Treat, and turned to Snape. "Can owls go through the Floo?"

Draco let out a derisive snort, and Snape shook his head. "No. At any rate, Draco can't Floo. We're taking the Knight Bus instead."

Draco can't Floo? That seemed rather odd, and judging by Draco's furious glare, he wasn't too happy with Snape for mentioning it. Harry frowned, and saved it to contemplate later.

Snape shrank their trunks and placed them in his pocket while Harry took one last look around the house. It felt a lot less dark and intimidating than it had when he’d first arrived. Harry still vividly remembered standing here on the doorstep with Snape threatening him into behaving not one month ago. He'd known where he stood with Snape back then, at the very least. Mutual hatred. Things had really changed in such a short stretch of time…

He caught sight of Draco's furious face and grimaced. Maybe they hadn't, and all had been for naught.

They walked over the threshold and onto the pavement, where Snape extended his wand arm. The Knight Bus appeared moments later, screeching to a halt next to them. Snape was scowling at it fiercely, while Draco had his nose wrinkled.

Stan Shunpike leapt from the bus in his purple conductor’s uniform. “Welcome to the -”

He abruptly made a strangled squeaking noise and flinched back, eyes fixed on Snape. Stan looked absolutely terrified, and he had gone a stark white under his pimples. His mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish.

“Mr Shunpike.” Snape nodded, lips twisted into a sneer. “Passage for three, please.”

“Y-Yes, Professor,” Stan stammered, taking the coins from Snape with shaky hands. “Where to?”

“The Leaky Cauldron.”

“Right…”

He quickly ushered them on board. In his state of absolute panic, Stan hadn’t even realised Harry was there. He didn’t even glance at Harry or his scar once as they travelled to the Leaky Cauldron. Instead, Stan spent the bumpy journey staring down Snape, looking like he was ready to be sick. Snape, in return, sneered right back at him. The tension was thick in the air, and Harry was rather relieved to alight from the bus.

As the triple decker screeched away, Snape shook his head. "Irritating little boy."

"What's your problem with Stan?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He felt a little defensive on Stan's behalf.

Snape's scowl deepened. "While he was at Hogwarts, a particularly enthusiastic explosion of his burned all of my hair off. It took a week to find the correct antidote."

Harry immediately imagined a bald, slightly smoking Snape and had to struggle against a snort as they walked into the Leaky Cauldron. He flattened his fringe over his scar, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.

"Let's drop your belongings in your room," Snape said in a low voice, inclining his head in the direction of the staircase. Harry followed him up to a room a few doors down from the one he'd stayed in after running away from the Dursleys. Snape resized his trunk while Harry placed Hedwig's cage down.

"Everything has been paid for, so all you need to remember is to drop the key back with Tom tomorrow morning," Snape explained.

"Thanks," Harry said. He was glad he didn’t have to figure all of this stuff out himself for once.

"I believe I spotted the Weasleys downstairs as we came in. Shall we go and meet them?"

"Er - you don't have to hang around if you want to go on," Harry said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "I don't want to be a bother -"

"I need a word with Molly and Arthur before we split off," Snape said in a tone that beggared no argument. Harry simply nodded and followed Snape back out of his room, wondering what he and the Weasleys would even have to talk about.

"I'll run on ahead, Severus," Draco said as they walked down the hallway, raising his nose into the air haughtily. "I have business to attend to, and I'd rather not interact with the likes of those awful Weasleys."

Harry glared at Draco, who glared right back before shouldering past Harry and through the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Harry and Snape behind. Snape, somewhat surprisingly, didn't reprimand Draco for his rudeness. Harry shot him an annoyed look which Snape completely ignored.

Harry had barely made it down the stairs before he was hit headlong by a whirlwind of bushy hair.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "It's so good to see you!"

"Hermione! I didn't know you were coming, too!" Harry beamed at Hermione as she pulled back.

"Mum and Dad dropped me off with all my Hogwarts things this morning, so I’m going to King’s Cross with you and the Weasleys.”

Hermione gestured to Ron, who looked far more freckly than usual after his travels in Egypt. He tried to smile at Harry, but it came out rather strangled. "Er - hey, mate. Good to see you!"

"Hi?" Harry wondered what Ron's issue was. Moments later, he realised his friend wasn't actually looking at him, but at a point slightly over Harry's shoulder. His eyes were wide and concerned. Harry turned around to check what Ron was looking at, and realised Snape was currently speaking to the elder Weasleys in low, muttered tones. The three of them occasionally cast sidelong glances in Harry's direction, and all of them were frowning. Harry grimaced. Was Snape telling them about the Dursleys or something? Snape had said they were trying to keep his new custody arrangement quiet, but did the Weasleys fall under the umbrella of people who needed to know? Harry hoped not - it would be embarrassing if they found out about the Dursleys…

To be fair, Harry thought the Weasleys already had the general impression that all wasn't well at Privet Drive. To Harry's immense relief, though, they never explicitly addressed it like Snape did. He could reluctantly admit that there was a time and a place for confronting those sorts of problems, which was where Snape came in, but the Weasleys always gave Harry that little extra bit of normality that he desperately craved. He was still expected to get stuck in with de-gnoming the garden, and always got involved with the friendly bantering between the Weasley siblings.

And they did their best to fix the problems they knew about. Mrs Weasley always served Harry extra servings at dinner, while Mr Weasley had assured him that he was always welcome at the Burrow almost every day last summer. That truly meant something to him.

Yes, Harry greatly appreciated the Weasleys, although currently all of them except Mr and Mrs Weasley were staring at Snape with expressions of utter horror. Ron still looked like he was sucking on a lemon, while Fred, George and Ginny wore matching expressions of repulsion. Even Percy, suck-up to all teachers including Snape, looked slightly uncomfortable with the Potions Professor speaking to his parents.

Harry gave Ron a slightly sheepish look. "Yeah. That happened."

"How are you even alive?" Ron whispered, awe-struck. Harry couldn't help but snort a little, amused by the look of shock on his friend's face.

"Was it alright?" Hermione asked worriedly. "You look alright. Are you?"

"I am, actually," Harry said with a small smile. "It wasn't all that bad."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed. "Snape’s Confunded you, hasn't she?"

"I’m not Confunded!" Harry laughed, shoving Ron.

"Imperiused then."

"I am actually fine, Ron!" he stressed, trying to think of a way to put everything that had happened over the last few weeks in a way that wouldn't make him sound completely mental. It was a bit difficult, since Harry himself couldn't quite puzzle out how he felt or where he and Snape stood. He wasn’t entirely sure how they’d gone from hating each other to whatever this current situation was, he just knew that they had.

"He's been quite decent to me, actually," Harry said finally. It was the truth, after all, and the one word Harry couldn't think of that summed up how he felt.

Ron shook his head with an air of deep solemnity. "It's finally happened. You've well and truly lost your marbles."

"Oh, stop it, Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. "If Harry says he's fine, then I'm sure he is."

"It's alright," he said with a shrug. "It's all been a bit mad, honestly…"

"Harry."

He spun around and realised that Snape had managed to appear behind him, Ron and Hermione without making a sound. Harry always hated when he did that, since it was incredibly creepy.

"I shall be going into Diagon Alley to complete some shopping of my own,” Snape said. “I will stay in London until three, so feel free to find me if you require something.”

"Alright," Harry said with a nod.

"Stay close to the others and do not wander off on your own," Snape said sharply. "I'll know if you do."

Harry nodded again, running a finger over the grooves of the runes on his tracker. Snape would know, wouldn’t he?

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, then," Snape said briskly. "Goodbye."

"Bye." Just as Snape turned around to leave, Harry blurted out, "And thank you. For - er, for everything."

As Snape's eyes connected with his, Harry tried to convey with his face how much he really did appreciate everything Snape had done for him that last month. He'd made more of an effort for Harry than any other adult had for his entire life, and that really meant something to him.

Snape seemed to understand this. He nodded at Harry and pressed his lips together in an expression that almost looked like a smile. "There is no need to thank me."

And with that, he was gone.

Harry turned around, trying to push down the uncomfortable sense of finality he'd gotten from that conversation. Ron and Hermione were both staring at him with their mouths hanging open. Harry could hear Snape's voice in the back of his mind: 'Are you trying to catch flies?' His lips quirked.

"What was that?" Ron demanded.

"Did he just call you Harry?" Hermione added, visibly shocked.

"And did he smile? He can do that?!"

"Like I said. He's been weirdly decent."

"Pinch me, Fred," George said, coming up from behind and dramatically placing a hand on his chest. "I think I must be dreaming."

"Me too, George, me too," Fred said solemnly. "Why else would Harry call the greasy git decent?"

Hermione, Ron and Ginny all laughed. Harry tried to force a chuckle, but he felt strangely uncomfortable. That was strange. Normally he'd be joking around about Snape right along with them…

"Tell us everything!" George demanded.

"Did he test potions on you?" Fred asked.

"Did you ever see him eat garlic, by any chance?"

"Or step into direct sunlight?"

“Drink blood?”

"What do his quarters look like?"

"It must have been miserable spending a whole month in the dungeons!"

"Oh, he doesn't actually live there during the holidays," Harry said, relieved to finally have a question he felt comfortable answering. "I was at his house."

Unfortunately, judging by the expressions on Fred and George's faces, this had just opened him up to even more of an interrogation. Thankfully Mrs Weasley swooped in moments later, saving Harry from further questioning. She patted his arm and smiled. "It's wonderful to see you, dear."

"Nice to see you too, Mrs Weasley."

“Why don’t you three head out into Diagon Alley?” Mrs Weasley said, ushering Fred, George and Ginny away. She pointed a finger at Ron’s pocket. "Ron, you need to go and get that rat looked at."

"Should we head over to the Magical Menagerie, then?” Ron asked them.

“Oh, that would be good - I’ve been thinking about buying an owl,” Hermione said. “My parents gave me some money for an early birthday present.”

“Now, you have to tell us absolutely everything, Harry!" Ron said as they headed out of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Maybe in a minute," Harry muttered, glancing at Ron's siblings. They were all trailing vaguely behind, while Mrs Weasley shot out instructions at each of them, clutching onto a pile of book lists. Harry did want to tell his friends about everything that had happened with the Dursleys but he didn't want Ron's siblings to overhear, especially since Snape had specifically told him to keep his new living situation quiet with everyone except his closest friends. They already knew he’d stayed with Snape for the summer, and that was all they needed to know.

Luckily, Ron and Hermione seemed to sense this. They'd always been good about knowing when to keep Harry's secrets. Instead of continuing on with the Snape questions, Hermione deftly changed the subject and started talking about the history of witchcraft in France. Harry smiled to himself and exchanged a knowing look with Ron.

As they left the Magical Menagerie, Harry reflected that it was almost impressive how quickly his friends had found something to argue about.

"That thing tried to scalp me, Hermione!" Ron said indignantly. "Why the hell did you buy that monster?"

"He's not a monster!" Hermione protested, stroking the purring ginger cat in her arms. "Crookshanks is lovely!"

Harry had to side more with Ron there. Crookshanks was one extraordinarily ugly, angry cat. He was currently glaring at Ron with his lamp-like yellow eyes.

"He tried to eat Scabbers!" Ron said irritably, holding the rat close to his chest.

"He's a cat! That's what cats do!"

Harry rolled his eyes and started to tune out the bickering. He wondered for a moment if this was what he and Draco sounded like to Snape when they argued. All of a sudden he had a lot more sympathy for the man.

He'd still not had a chance to talk to Malfoy, Harry had realised, but now he wasn't sure if he particularly cared. He’d spent the last twelve hours on the receiving end of the silent treatment, and that rude comment about the Weasleys had helped Harry feel a little less ashamed. No, Harry was not going to feel guilty, especially when Malfoy was being such a stroppy prat and wouldn’t even give Harry a chance to explain himself! If he wanted to feel sorry for himself, fine, but he wasn’t going to make Harry’s life miserable, too.

“Harry?” Ron nudged him. “You alright there?”

“Yeah, fine.” He shook himself. “Wool gathering. Sorry. Should we go to Flourish and Blotts now, then?”

“Dangerous plan, mate,” Ron said, shooting a sidelong glance at Hermione. “We’ll never leave!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Hermione said, glaring at the snickering Ron. “That’s why I left the bookshop for last, I’ll have you know.”

“Maybe we should go to Florean Fortescue’s ice cream parlour after,” Harry said thoughtfully as they strolled through Diagon Alley. “I want to try more of their flavours.”

“Impossible,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “There’s just too many! Charlie’s been trying to taste them all for years - he used to spend all his pocket money on it - but he just can’t manage it. They update too often.”

“Harry, look!” Hermione nudged his shoulder and pointed to the left. Harry glanced up and saw Snape’s black-cloaked figure disappearing into the apothecary.

“He did say he was going to be here until three,” Harry reminded them, recalling the conversation from earlier.

“Can you tell us a bit more about it, then?” Ron asked as they entered Flourish and Blotts. He and Harry both trailed behind Hermione, who seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the bookstore layout and easily started locating their textbooks for the upcoming year.

“You said it wasn’t too bad?” Hermione prompted from behind a gradually growing stack of books.

“Er - yeah,” Harry said. “Well. The first week was awful, but then things got better. I… well, I ran away at one point, actually, which is when things started improving.”

“You did what?” Ron’s jaw dropped. “How can you say Snape was decent if he made you pull a runner?!”

“Well, he and I sort of came to an understanding after that,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. “That was when it all got better, so…”

“But weren’t you in lots of trouble for leaving?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide. “I can’t imagine Professor Snape would have taken that very well!”

“Mum would kill me if I ran off one night without telling her where I was going, you know,” Ron added. Harry did know, as he remembered the explosive way in which Mrs Weasley had reacted when they walked into the Burrow after Ron and the twins had rescued Harry from the Dursleys.

“To be honest, he let me off pretty lightly, all things considered,” Harry said, running a finger along the silver bangle. He wondered if Snape would finally take the stupid thing off once they were back at school… Harry doubted it, somehow.

“Are you sure he actually let you off lightly?” Ron asked, giving him a slightly worried look. “You might have that thing kidnapper’s victims have - what is it? Stocky Syndrome or something -”

“Stockholm Syndrome,” Hermione corrected. “And that’s not applicable here, it’s when people fall in love with their captors.”

“Eugh!” Harry pulled a face. “I did not fall in love with Snape, you’ll be happy to know. Bloody hell, Ron!”

Ron and Hermione started laughing, and Harry rolled his eyes. “And no, I didn’t get in trouble at all, really. It was his and Malfoy’s fault I ran away to begin with, so…”

“I completely forgot about Malfoy!” Ron looked to Harry eagerly. “He was probably even worse than Snape! How did you bear it?”

“Badly,” Harry grumbled. He was still smarting from last night’s fight. “We kept fighting and arguing the whole summer. It is Malfoy, after all. He’s always been a poncey little git.”

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t know how I’d have managed an entire month with him. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“So am I,” he muttered.

“Did you hear all the stuff that happened with his parents, Hermione?” Ron asked. Harry stiffened, and busied himself with getting the coins out of his pocket to pay as the queue to the tills shuffled forwards.

Hermione nodded. “I’ve got a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and it was all detailed in there.”

“One of you could have told me,” Harry grumbled. “I didn’t hear any of this!”

“I was saving it for when I saw you in person,” Ron said. “Dad knows loads about it, since he was there doing the raid when it all went down.”

“Tell me more, then!” Hermione said eagerly. “The papers weren’t nearly as detailed as I’d have liked!”

“So, it was Dad and this team of DMLE Hit Wizards,” Ron said in a low, dramatic voice. “Lucius Malfoy knew about the raid, and he was standing to the side, looking all smug and stuff. He thought they weren’t going to find anything - of course, Dad found that hidden room. Apparently, it reeked of Dark magic. Like it was just rolling off it in waves, you didn’t even have to look at the objects. That’s when Malfoy attacked.”

Hermione gasped. “Mr Malfoy attacked your father?!”

“He didn’t actually manage to get a curse in - the Hit Wizards got to him before then and disarmed him,” Ron explained. “Dad was just about to start cataloguing all the stuff when there was this massive explosion - someone cast Fiendfyre inside the house, and it wrecked the place in seconds! He said he barely managed to get out of the Manor in time, same with Malfoy and his mum!”

“Draco was inside?” Harry asked suddenly, feeling strangely alarmed.

“Yeah, he was upstairs with his mum,” Ron said. He frowned. “Since when do you call him Draco?” 

“Er - weird rule of Snape’s,” Harry said quickly. “How did he get out, then?”

Ron shrugged. “Who cares? I think his mum did something. They arrested her, too, straight away. The Dark Artefacts were in her basement, after all. Malfoy didn’t get in any trouble, which I think is a right shame. The Malfoys are all as rotten as each other, and you remember how he told us about the trapdoor when we were Crabbe and Goyle, right? He obviously knew about everything! I bet he was in on it somehow…”

Hermione nodded in agreement, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than stare blankly at the two of them. The image of Draco, face tearstained as he shouted that he wasn’t a criminal, felt branded into Harry’s mind. He shifted uncomfortably. Just one month ago, Harry would have been nodding along with Ron and Hermione as they disparaged Malfoy, taking vindictive pleasure in his circumstances, but he knew too much about Draco now. It didn’t have any appeal. In fact, he almost wanted to tell Ron and Hermione to stop it…

Harry ground his teeth and paid for his books quickly, feeling strangely annoyed at himself. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Malfoy right now, he wanted to remain righteously irritated about their fight!

“So what did Malfoy tell you about his parents and the fire, Harry?” Hermione asked after all their books were taken care of. She was quite eagle-eyed, and had probably noticed his reaction to Ron’s words.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Harry muttered. “Dra - Malfoy obviously wouldn’t talk to me about anything.” Harry grimaced at the lie, but he couldn’t pass on the things Draco had told Harry in the park on the day they’d been beaten up. That would be really wrong. “Snape won’t talk to me about it, either.”

Which, now that Harry thought about it, was actually quite unfair. Draco knew a frankly ridiculous amount about the Dursleys because Snape had gone on that rant at Dumbledore, and Harry still barely knew anything about Draco’s life! Couldn’t Snape have evened up their situations a bit? The anger Harry was feeling only grew, particularly towards Draco. He was really bloody nosy, wasn’t he? Not only did he read Harry’s mail, which was what had caused this whole nightmare in the first place, he’d also eavesdropped and found out everything about Harry’s horrid family! He hadn’t given Draco the silent treatment for doing that, had he? Draco should suck it up over that letter already! Harry ground his teeth, feeling remarkably cross.

Ron groaned. “Missed opportunity, mate.”

“I know,” Harry grumbled, the anger towards Draco that had been growing all day reaching a fever pitch. “It’s the only thing that would have made spending time with Malfoy worth it. He’s a complete pillock, you know. I’m bloody glad to be shot of him now…”

Harry walked past a column of books as he and his friends made their way over to the exit of Flourish and Blotts, and suddenly caught a glimpse of white blonde in his peripheral vision. He jerked his head to the side just in time to see Draco storming around the corner, ducking his head low. He’d almost certainly just overheard everything Harry had just said about him…

Harry very suddenly wished he’d never spoken at all. The anger dropped out in an instant, replaced with something more shameful.

Hermione noticed him watching Draco and winced. “I think he heard.”

“Yeah…”

“Malfoy’s going to be even worse than usual this year, I think,” Hermione said with a sigh. “His parents being in Azkaban is bound to make him even more horrid…”

But it didn’t need to be that way, Harry realised with a surge of misery. After those Muggles had beaten him and Draco up, it had felt like they were establishing a tentative sort of camaraderie. Things could have been so different this year…

But of course, Harry had gone and screwed it all up. He felt oddly ashamed, and the guilt seemed to strengthen further as his friends sat in the ice cream parlour, still gossiping about Malfoy. Harry wanted to join in, since he just wanted things to be normal, but nothing could go back to the way it was. Harry knew Snape was never going to go back to the horrid bullying git he’d once been, and Malfoy similarly wasn’t going to revert back to being the one-dimensional arse Harry had once known. Every time Harry tried to conjure up the familiar old hatred, all he could think about was Draco slumped in Snape’s arms and crying after he’d thrown that ornament, or Draco curled in on himself at the edge of the fair, chest heaving, or he and Draco holding each other up as they walked back after getting beaten to a pulp by those Muggles…

Harry poked at his ice cream sundae, stirring it into a tasteless soup. He’d been so excited about it earlier, but the general misery he was experiencing had robbed him of his appetite. He could hear Snape growling in the back of his head - emotional upset should not be an excuse to starve yourself ! - but that only served to make Harry feel worse.

Hermione nudged him, her eyes crinkled with concern. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, staring into his lap.

“Harry…” Her voice was hesitant, and she was wringing her hands in her lap. “If Snape did anything bad to you while you were living with him, you can tell us, you know.”

Harry’s head shot up abruptly. “Sorry, what?”

Ron grimaced. “He is Snape, mate. I know you’re saying he was decent, but if you’re just saying that -”

“I wouldn’t just say that,” Harry interrupted. “He actually was alright with me.”

“Well, Harry…” Hermione said timidly. “I just… well, your perspective of what’s bad might be a bit skewed since… you know.”

Harry barely managed to hold back a hysterical little laugh. He was fairly certain Snape had also said that the Dursleys had given Harry a skewed perspective at some point or another! If only Hermione knew…

“If he did anything to you, we can go to McGonagall, or Dumbledore, or even my parents!” Ron said rather fiercely. “He shouldn’t get away with mistreating you -”

“Anymore than he already did last year?” Harry snorted. The teachers at Hogwarts certainly hadn’t bothered themselves about Snape before he’d changed. Harry couldn’t believe Dumbledore would suddenly give a damn, even if Snape had been beating him nightly.

“Look, I get you’re worried,” Harry said, “but he didn’t do anything to me. He didn’t hurt me or anything, and he wasn’t even all critical and vicious like he is in Potions! When I say he was alright, I mean it, as baffling as that is.”

  And he helped me. He played chess with me, and helped me with my accidental magic, and got me away from the Dursleys. 

Harry shook himself. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to tell his friends about what Snape had done in regard to the Dursleys just yet. If they were reacting like this already, Harry could only imagine how they’d react to finding out Harry was living with the man indefinitely. Besides, he needed a bit more time to mull things over himself before he told anyone.

“Harry…” Hermione said slowly, “what about the things Snape didn’t do? If he was standing by and letting Malfoy bully you -”

“He didn’t let Malfoy bully me,” Harry said irritably. Well - after the first week, at least. “He’s really strict with Malfoy, actually. He didn’t let anything slide.”

“Well…” Hermione still looked doubtful. “If you insist it was fine -”

“It was,” Harry assured her. “Look, if there was a problem, I’d tell you, okay? Besides, none of it matters now. We’re going back to Hogwarts!”

“That’s true,” Hermione said, cheering up a little. “Oh, I’m so excited for the new courses!”

“How many are you taking again?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, like the two of you, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, of course, Muggle Studies -”

Ron snorted. “Muggle studies? Your parents are Muggles!”

Hermione examined him rather haughtily and tossed her head. “I thought it might be interesting to see them from a wizarding perspective!”

“So when are you actually planning to eat or sleep this year, then?” Harry asked. Hermione sighed exasperatedly, while Harry and Ron both smiled at each other knowingly.

Harry had forgotten how enjoyable it was to spend time with the Weasleys. Swept up in the crowd of loud, chattering redheads, it was easy to forget his troubles with Snape and Draco and just enjoy himself as Fred and George poked fun at Percy, or as Ron and Hermione caught him up on their summers. Mr and Mrs Weasley didn’t seem quite themselves, though, and were rather preoccupied for the whole of dinner by a copy of the Prophet detailing the latest on Sirius Black, who still hadn’t been caught.

Ron followed Harry’s gaze as he stared at the newspaper and eyed his father thoughtfully. “Say, would the person who caught Black get any kind of reward? It’d be nice to get a little extra money -”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mr Weasley said in a grave voice. “A thirteen-year-old wizard wouldn’t be able to catch Black. None of us will. It’ll be the Azkaban guards, I’m sure of it…”

“Have you all finished packing?” Mrs Weasley asked abruptly.

“Ron hasn’t put all his new things in his trunk yet,” Percy said, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “He’s dumped them on my bed.”

“You’d better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won’t have much time in the morning!” Mrs Weasley said, waving a hand in the direction of the staircase. Ron scowled at Percy and started stomping away. Harry slipped away after him, since he had a few things of his own to put away after all the shopping he’d been doing today. As Harry placed his new textbooks into his trunk, he wondered if Snape had made Draco finish packing yet. Knowing him, it had been the first thing he’d made Malfoy do when they got home -

Back to Spinner’s End, Harry corrected himself. He sighed and stared into his trunk at the properly fitting clothes Snape had bought for him. Despite the man’s assurances that everything wouldn’t revert to the way it had been the moment they all returned to Hogwarts, Harry still felt a little insecure. Everything that had happened with Malfoy in the last twenty-four hours had simply compounded that.

Harry’s door swung open without a knock. Ron stormed in and immediately started to kick the skirting board.

“Um,” Harry said. “Hi?”

“Percy,” Ron said through gritted teeth, “is a massive prat.”

“You can stay in here if you like,” Harry offered.

Ron gave him a thin smile. “Thanks, mate. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m gonna put up with a whole year of this! He’s going to be the most insufferable Head Boy…”

Harry gave him a sympathetic look and continued packing his things while Ron wandered around his room and prodded at a strangely-shaped lamp on Harry’s nightstand. They carried on in companionable silence for a while until Harry turned around and realised Ron was frowning at him.

Harry put down his new copy of Unfogging the Future and gave Ron a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”

Ron chewed nervously on his lip for a moment before speaking. “Er - sorry we weren’t around this summer, for you to come to ours. If you ran away and all… was it really bad this year?”

Harry, of course, knew what it had to be and tensed slightly. This was a conversation about the Dursleys. It was only because this was Ron, who so rarely asked about Harry’s family life, that he answered honestly. He knew if Ron was outright asking, he was really quite worried. Ron normally didn’t press.

“It wasn't as bad as last year,” he admitted quietly. “I left before anything like that happened.”

That being the bars on the window and the starvation, which Ron and the twins knew about exclusively. Well, alongside Snape, now. Actually, now that Harry thought about it, Ron was second only to Snape when it came to people who knew the intimate details about Harry’s childhood and life in Little Whinging. He was also up there with Malfoy, Harry realised with no small amount of horror. His life really was mad…

Ron didn’t seem to notice Harry’s internal recoil as he thought things over. The expression on his face had grown more miserable. “If that wasn’t all bad enough, you got stuck with Snape instead of us!”

“Ron, please don’t feel bad,” Harry said earnestly, squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “I don’t expect you guys to always be at the Burrow, you know? You’ve already all done enough for me. Besides, the Dursleys aren’t your problem.”

“They shouldn’t be yours either,” Ron muttered irritably.

Harry hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to bring this up just yet, but Ron just looked so dejected, and maybe it would help ease his friend’s worries…

“Look, can you keep something secret from me?” Harry said. “From everyone, even Hermione.”

Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, waiting.

“Erm… I don't have to go back anymore.”

Ron’s eyes lit up. “Harry, that’s amazing news! How did that happen?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Harry said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Snape… er, he found out about the Dursleys. How they are.”

Ron’s happy expression vanished in an instant, to be replaced by a look of deep concern. “No! Are you okay? Was he completely awful?”

“No, actually,” Harry said. “He’s been really good about it. He was the one to organise everything so I never have to go back there now, if you can believe it.”

“Snape,” Ron said slowly. “Professor Snape. The Hogwarts Potions Professor.”

“Yep.”

“That’s mental,” Ron declared.

“I can barely get my head around it myself,” Harry said sheepishly. “But he has really helped me. He stopped being such an arse, too. That’s why I said he was decent - because he’s been so good about the Dursleys. I wouldn’t have expected it, but yeah…”

Well, Harry had a general idea where Snape had learned to be so understanding about difficult families. My father was a very unpleasant man. Harry definitely wasn’t ever going to tell Ron about that comment, though.

“At least someone’s finally done something,” Ron said. He looked incredibly relieved, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I’d never think Snape would be the one to do it, though.”

“Neither.”

“Do you know who you’re living with now, then?” Ron asked.

“No,” Harry lied. Ron had taken the news he'd received so far very well, but Harry had no idea how he’d react to the prospect of him living full-time with Snape yet. He barely felt comfortable with it, after all…

“You could definitely come and stay with us, you know,” Ron declared. “I know my parents would have you. They think you’re great.”

Harry smiled, feeling something warm spread throughout his chest. Even though Snape had already explained that he couldn’t live with the Weasleys, it was still nice to have that offered. “Thanks, mate. Remember not to mention it though, please?”

“I won’t,” Ron promised. “You are going to tell Hermione, right? She’d be good about it, I know she would.”

“Yeah, I just wanted a couple more days to get my head around everything.”

As much as Harry loved Hermione, she had the tendency to ask a lot of questions about things, and Harry wasn’t quite ready for the interrogation yet. He was still trying to process things himself. Ron was a little better at letting things drop, which was the only reason he’d brought it up now.

“Ron!” Percy shouted, storming up the corridor and sticking his head around the doorway. “My Head Boy badge is missing!”

Ron scowled. “How’s that my problem?”

“It was here,” Percy said indignantly, storming into Harry’s room and grabbing Ron’s arm. “I left it on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing -”

“I haven’t touched it!” Ron shouted as Percy started dragging him down the hallway. “Leave me alone, I’m busy with Harry -”

“You’re not going anywhere till you’ve found my badge!” Percy yelled.

“You probably left it in the bar, you twit!”

“I’ll check downstairs,” Harry said, unheard by both boys. This brotherly bickering reminded him a lot of him and Draco -

Harry shook himself, as he was not going to think of Draco in any sort of context that could be deemed as brotherly, no matter how weirdly guilty he was feeling. He was going to stop thinking about Draco entirely, as a matter of fact. Harry didn’t know why he was thinking of the other boy so much. He supposed it was an uncomfortable symptom of living in such close quarters…

Harry was so distracted by his thoughts that it took him a minute to register the raised voices coming from the parlour as he headed to the bar. It was Mr and Mrs Weasley. Harry went to continue onwards, not wanting to listen in on them fighting, but then he caught his own name in the fray and froze.

“…makes no sense not to tell him!” Mr Weasley hissed. “Harry’s got a right to know. He’s thirteen years old and -”

“Arthur, the truth would terrify him!” Mrs Weasley said shrilly. “Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven’s sake, he’s happy not knowing!”

“I don’t want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!” Mr Weasley said. “You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves - they’ve ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! Harry mustn’t do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn’t picked him up, I’m prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him.”

“But he’s not dead, he’s fine, so what’s the point -”

“Molly they say Sirius Black’s mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that’s supposed to be impossible,” Mr Weasley said grimly. “It’s been three weeks, and no one’s seen hide nor hair of him, and I don’t care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we’re no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black’s after -”

“But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts!”

“We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe! If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts.”

“But no one’s really sure that Black’s after Harry -”

There was a loud thudding noise. “Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn’t report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black’s been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: ‘He’s at Hogwarts …he’s at Hogwarts.’ Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he’s had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…”

Harry felt his heart speed up, and he leaned closer to the parlour door.

“It’s not your decision to make, Arthur!” Mrs Weasley said fiercely. “You can’t tell him, especially after Severus said not to -”

“Severus doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” Mr Weasley snapped. “You know perfectly well that he has a history with Black. He’s letting his own problems get in the way of what ought to be done!”

“But that doesn’t matter!” Mrs Weasley said angrily. “He’s Harry’s guardian now, so we don’t get to make these decisions, and you know it!”

“Well, remember that if Severus does something you disagree with,” Mr Weasley muttered.

“You’re not to tell him, Arthur,” Mrs Weasley said firmly. “We can’t, and you know it.”

Mr Weasley sighed. “I know… fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. I'd never have taken Severus for a fool -”

"Watch yourself," Mrs Weasley said sharply. "He's trying to protect Harry, and it's about time someone did that."

Mr Weasley sighed and didn't respond. Harry heard the scraping of chairs, and hurried out into the bar so they didn’t know he’d been listening. His heart was thudding uncomfortably as he scooped up a bottle of rat tonic belonging to Scabbers. No sign of the Head Boy badge, but that felt inconceivably irrelevant to Harry by now, considering what he knew.

So Sirius Black was after him. That explained everything, didn’t it? Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find Harry alive. Snape had reacted so explosively every time Harry had left Spinner’s End because he’d wrongly assumed that Harry had been abducted by Black. It explained why he was so paranoid about Black in general, too…

Harry wasn’t particularly worried about imminent murder, as he was of the opinion that he would be rather safe at Hogwarts - Dumbledore was the only wizard who scared Voldemort, and as his right-hand man, Black probably ought to be just as worried about him, too.

No, the thing that bothered Harry about all of this was that Snape had hidden it from him. Harry had asked him outright multiple times why he was so paranoid about Sirius Black, but Snape had either changed the subject or given him that strange answer about Black maybe wanting to come after Harry because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. Meanwhile, they had explicit evidence that Black was after Harry!

But much like Mrs Weasley, Snape apparently thought that Harry would be a panic-stricken basket case if he knew the whole truth about Black.

It’s because you’ve been acting like a needy, emotional wreck all summer, a nasty voice in the back of his head whispered. This is what happens when you keep crying and freaking out over nothing with him, you pathetic idiot. He treats you like a needy child. You’re useless. He thinks you can’t handle it.

  This is what happens when people find out about the Dursleys.

Harry took a shuddering breath. He drew his resentment tightly around him like a cloak and locked himself in his room for the night, feeling oddly hurt by the discovery that Snape didn’t think he was strong enough to handle this.

And what was that about Snape having a history with Black? Had something happened between the two men? Was that another reason why Snape was so paranoid?

Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that Snape was keeping secrets from him, and there was nothing Harry hated as much as being lied to.