Harry felt like his heart had stopped. 

The man leered down at them, whizzing eye darting between him and Draco. He looked deeply unimpressed as he reached forward, grabbed onto their collars, and yanked Harry and Draco to their feet. 

“You two certainly aren’t old enough to be in here!” he barked. “What are you playing at, eh?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. He felt like his limbs had been turned into lead. He couldn’t believe they’d just been caught sneaking into the Ministry of Magic! How on earth were they going to get out of this one?

“You ought to be sorry,” the wizard said severely. “Now, the two of you are coming with me!”

But before he started moving again, both of the man’s eyes landed on Draco’s tearstained face. He was taking in great, heaving gasps of air, trying to get control of himself with minimal success. Harry could tell by the pink flush on his cheeks that Draco was horribly embarrassed by his tears, but Harry really doubted there was anything he could do to stop them right now.

Something around the hard, angry slash of the wizard’s mouth seemed to soften slightly. He let go of Draco, reached into his robes, and pulled out a handkerchief. He handed it to Draco and muttered, “Dry your eyes, boy.”

“Thank you, Auror Moody,” Draco choked out, taking the handkerchief with trembling hands and furiously scrubbing his face with it. Harry watched the wizard - Moody - and wondered how Draco knew this man, and if Moody knew who Draco was. Harry somehow got the sense that a Malfoy being present in the current climate was far from ideal…

After waiting several moments for Draco to try and collect himself, Moody moved his hands so they were gripping Draco and Harry’s arms. “Come on…”

He began to lead them down the hallway at a surprisingly brisk pace, given his limp. Harry tried to keep his head bowed to hide his forehead as they were hauled from the viewing platform and into the main corridor to the courtroom. There were lots of witches and wizards milling about, casting curious looks as Moody marched them through the hallway, and Harry did not want his scar being recognised. He did, however, try to watch out for an adult he knew. Snape would surely be furious - in fact, Harry thought apoplectic wouldn't even begin to describe it - but at least he trusted Snape. Harry didn’t know this strange Auror, and he certainly didn’t know what was about to happen to them…

Panic bloomed in Harry’s chest. What had Draco dragged him into? Was the Auror taking them somewhere to be arrested and thrown into prison for trespassing? Would they be expelled, have their wands snapped, and be kicked out of Hogwarts? Where would Harry go if he wasn’t allowed to live there with Snape anymore? Would he be sent back to the Dursleys, or simply left to live on the streets?

By the time they entered the elevator, crammed with chattering individuals paying Harry and Draco minimal attention, the panic was making Harry’s breaths come in short, shallow spurts. Something began to rattle.

Draco elbowed him sharply. Harry turned to look at him, and noticed that his tears had stopped, although his eyes were awfully red and puffy.

“Stop freaking out!” he hissed. “You’re going to break something! Occlude, maybe?”

Harry gave him a jerky nod and tried his best to think of nothing but the Quidditch pitch. He had worked himself into such a state that he couldn’t manage anything even close to resembling calm, but the rhythmic Occlumency techniques at least helped him to stop the accidental magic. That was the last thing Harry needed at a time like this… what would the Aurors do if they could add destruction of government property to his list of crimes?

Moody had watched all of this occur, frown deepening, but didn’t say a word. He remained still and grim-faced until the cool female voice announced ‘Department for Magical Law Enforcement’, which sprang him back into action. Moody led them out of the elevator and down a long corridor. At the end stood a set of double doors beneath a golden sign reading ‘Auror Department’. The doors flew open on their own as they approached. 

The room reminded Harry of a Muggle office. There were mismatched, low-walled cubicles crammed into every available space, at which purple-robed wizards and witches were scribbling notes. The messenger bulletins from the lift were flying around from desk to desk, occasionally hitting passing Aurors in the head, and bursts of light exploded out from cubicles at random intervals. The walls were covered in bulletin boards - one particularly prominent one had the screaming photograph of Sirius Black directly in the centre, with reported sightings scribbled onto parchment and pinned around him. Harry shivered, and quickly looked away from Black’s mad, gaunt face.

The wallspace that wasn’t taken up by investigations was marked by locked doors, which Harry suspected might be interrogation rooms. One well-guarded door with a small, barred slot at the top looked as though it might lead to a set of cells. As Moody continued to lead them through the office, Harry felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. The Auror was surely taking them through there to lock them up!

But before they reached the barred door, Moody took a sharp right and pointed to a particularly large cubicle. “Sit.”

Harry was relieved to fall into the wooden, straight-backed chair. His legs felt like jelly by now, and were barely supporting his weight.

Moody thudded over to the other side of the cubicle and settled behind a highly messy desk, covered in all sorts of whirring devices and paperwork. He placed a finger beneath his chin and watched Harry and Draco, his whizzing stare unnerving. “Now, then - what to do with you…”

“Are we going to be arrested?” Harry whispered, his heart thudding madly in his chest.

Moody didn’t reply and continued to stare at them, magical blue eye darting from face to face. After a moment, he abruptly sighed.

“No,” he said gruffly. “Don’t get yourself into a flap, Potter. We’ve got more important things to do than throw teenagers in Azkaban for ending up in places they shouldn’t."

Harry’s shoulders slumped with relief. He didn’t bother to ask how Moody had known his name, and instead reached up to flatten his fringe over his scar.

Moody glanced over his shoulder to a cramped, empty desk in the back corner of his cubicle and scowled. “Of course, my apprentice has gone and vanished on me again! Retirement can’t come soon enough, let me tell you…” 

With a grunt, Moody lifted himself to his feet. He scanned the office, eyes pointing in different directions, then cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, “Nymphadora! Stop flirting with Goldstein and get over here!”

“Oh, stop it, Mad-Eye!” A woman said exasperatedly. “And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me -”

The conversation was cut off by a loud crashing sound. A pink-haired woman had fallen into the cubicle, barely catching herself on the squat corner desk before she hit the ground. The woman did not seem phased by her spectacular fall. She was too busy staring at them with her mouth agape. “Draco?!”

“Hi,” Draco said miserably, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You know this boy?” Moody demanded, jabbing a finger in Draco’s direction.

The woman nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on Draco. “Yeah, he’s my cousin - Draco Malfoy.” 

Cousin - Harry presumed this was the Nymphadora Tonks who Andromeda had mentioned in December. She settled into the chair behind her squat desk, sitting on it backwards with her arms crossed over the top and legs hanging over the sides.

“We have really got to stop meeting like this,” Tonks said lightly.

“Got that right,” Draco muttered, hugging himself with his arms. 

Harry wondered what they were talking about, then remembered a comment from Draco about how his cousin had been the one to get his mother’s necklace to him after Narcissa and Lucius had been arrested. Draco had probably been taken to this very same office after all of that had gone down…

“Malfoy - I’d suspected.” Moody nodded knowingly. “This is all starting to make a bit more sense…”

“What is?” Tonks asked. She looked at Draco and frowned. “What exactly are they doing here, Moody? Shouldn’t you be in school, Draco?” 

“Yes - he should,” Moody said in a stern voice. He shook his head. “Instead, he and his friend decided to sneak into the Ministry under an Invisibility Cloak to watch Lucius Malfoy’s trial. I’m just about to call in their parents - or guardians, that is - to deal with this…”

Dread coiled into Harry’s stomach. “Er - couldn’t we just go straight back to school ourselves?”

“I don’t think so, laddie.” Moody attempted a facial expression that might have been raising an eyebrow. It was impossible to tell through the mass of scar tissue. “No, you aren’t worming your way out of this one. You should have thought about what your guardians would say before you skived off school and snuck in here!”

Snape was going to murder them. Harry, who hadn’t even wanted to go here in the first place, shot a furious look at Draco. Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t be properly angry when the other boy was still so clearly upset - it was like kicking a puppy.

“Onto business, then,” Moody said, pulling a form out of a desk drawer and scribbling something onto it. “Now, who do you live with these days, Malfoy?”

Draco looked as if he was going to refuse to answer in some vain attempt to avoid the wrath of their guardian, but Tonks jumped in when the silence began to stretch. “Severus Snape’s his guardian.”

“Ah, Snape. I’m familiar.” Moody scowled slightly, then shook himself. “And you, Potter?”

Harry opened his mouth to tell Moody he also lived with Snape, but before he had a chance, Draco sharply kicked Harry’s ankle and cut across him.

“Harry lives with his aunt and uncle. They’re Muggles.” Harry frowned, and stared at Draco in confusion as he quickly continued on. “They’re not great with magic. Er - I’m sure Severus would be happy to take Harry from here as well as me and let them know on your behalf. He’s our Potions professor, see.”

Harry didn’t have a clue why Draco was lying, but as the other boy pointedly kicked him under the table once again, he made sure to stay silent. There was clearly a reason here, something Harry was missing.

Moody seemed to think things over for a moment. “Well, I suppose that would be easier than the hassle of bringing Muggles in here… alright, then. But I will be telling Snape to inform your guardians about what’s gone down here, Potter.”

Harry nodded quickly, his mouth bone dry as he pictured what his actual guardian’s face was going to look like when he had to come and get them from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“I saw him hanging around the viewing area - I’ll see if I can catch him before he goes back to Hogwarts,” Moody said, hauling himself to his feet. “Keep an eye on these two, Nymphadora.”

“Tonks,” she said through gritted teeth as Moody clomped from the room. To Harry’s shock, the roots of her brightly-coloured hair shifted to an angry red, before fading back to bubblegum pink. How had she managed that? Harry hadn’t seen her wand out!

Tonks turned back to face Draco, eyebrows raised. “Sneaking into the Ministry?” She shook her head. “Look, I get it’s your dad and all, but still. Not your brightest moment.”

“Well, Severus wouldn’t let me come,” Draco muttered, staring at the floor.

“Because you’re not supposed to be here,” Tonks said pointedly. “Rules are rules, yeah? Honestly, you’re getting off pretty lightly, especially since old Mad-Eye was the one to catch you.”

Draco groaned and pressed his hands over his face. “I’m not getting off lightly! Oh, Circe above, Severus is coming…”

Now he thinks of Severus! Harry thought resentfully. Draco couldn’t have considered that before forcing Harry’s hand until he had to join the other boy in this stupid scheme, could he?

“I won’t tell you off too much, then, since you’ve got Snape to deal with,” Tonks said begrudgingly. “I remember him from my Hogwarts days - he’s not exactly a ray of sunshine, is he?”

Harry groaned and ran his hands over his face. They were so dead. Shitting, sodding hell

“So how did you drag Harry Potter along with you, then?” Tonks added, fixing her attention on Harry. “Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Tonks - Draco’s cousin.”

“Hi. I’m here because I thought if he was going to do something this bloody stupid, then I should come along,” Harry said through gritted teeth. He glared at Draco, even though the other boy still had his face hidden in his hands. “Er - how did Mr Moody manage to catch us, though? We were under an Invisibility Cloak.”

“That kind of thing won’t trick Moody,” Tonks explained. “They call him Mad-Eye for a reason - that creepy thing of his can see through all sorts, including Invisibility Cloaks.”

“Oh.” Harry winced. He’d always thought his Invisibility Cloak was completely impenetrable! If that strange blue eye could see through his cloak, then what else could?

There was a sudden thunking noise to Harry’s left. He glanced over and realised that Draco was leaning his head against Moody’s desk, hands cradling his face.

“Hey - don’t worry too much, Draco,” Tonks said, getting up from her chair to sit at Moody’s. “I know what I was saying about Snape before, but I don’t think he’ll be that bad.”

“It’s not that,” Draco said in a choked voice. 

Tonks glanced over to Harry, her eyes crinkled with worry. She looked to Draco, like she was asking what to do, but Harry just shrugged helplessly in response. He didn’t have a clue what to do to help - or if there was something to be done in the first place…

After a moment, Tonks hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about everything with your dad.”

Draco didn’t move an inch. There was a long, stifled silence, until a choked whisper came from where Draco was lying.

“Did you see him at all?” Draco whispered. “Did he say anything?”

Tonks shook her head. “Nope. I’m generally supposed to be kept away from him, since I’m his niece and all. Even though I don’t know him at all, that's a bad look if it got out, you know? It was a bit of a mistake for me to be guarding your parents the first time around, as it stands…”

Draco abruptly jerked up, narrowed eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Well, if you do end up seeing Father, do me a favour and tell him how much I hate him, won’t you?” 

Tonks winced. “Draco, I don’t think you mean that -”

“No,” Draco growled, hands curling into fists in his lap. “I do mean it, actually. That man - he sat there, looking like - like that, and he begged. He sat there and snivelled, and begged, when he knew perfectly well what he did - Father didn’t exactly consider how this would all affect me, did he? So yes, I do hate him! He’s ruined my life!"

Harry tensed as Draco let out a low, furious, rumbling noise, deep in the back of his throat. This wasn’t good - as a matter of fact, this behaviour was exactly how Draco acted before he completely lost his temper. Harry did not want to see what would happen if Draco started smashing up the Auror office…

“I hate him.” Draco spat the words like thumbtacks. “I hate him, and I wish he wasn’t my father!”

With that, he buried his face on Moody’s desk yet again, body tense and rigid. Tonks visibly winced, and her hair cycled through several different colours. Harry stared at her, open mouthed. 

“How are you doing that?” he asked, momentarily forgetting his other troubles.

“I’m a Metamorphmagus,” Tonks explained. Her forehead furrowed with concentration, and then her hair flashed between a kaleidoscope of different colours. “It means I can change my appearance at will.”

Harry was just about to ask more questions when two horribly familiar voices came into earshot, and any curiosity he was feeling was replaced with gut-churning dread.

“...just over here, Snape,” Moody said. “I’ve got Nymphadora keeping an eye on them…”

“Indeed.”

Snape’s voice was so low and tight that it made Harry’s entire body tense up upon hearing it. He felt cold sweat build on his neck and palms as Snape and Moody walked into the cubicle behind him. He very reluctantly turned around, and immediately wished he could hide his face in the desk like Draco. It would be better than staring into the white, livid face of Severus Snape. His eyes were dark, fiery pits of fury, narrowed and fierce, and his lips were pressed into a thin, white line. Harry wished he could go back to the person he’d been this morning, who’d thought that the angriest Snape’s face could get had peaked on the day he’d snuck into Hogsmeade. This beat that out without challenge…

“Draco. Potter.” Snape folded his arms and glowered down at them. Draco shot up from the desk at the sound of Snape’s voice, while Harry bowed his head to stare at the floorboards. Why was Snape calling him Potter, and not by his first name? And, even more curiously, why was he only doing that with Harry and not Draco?

Because he must be the most angry with Harry, he realised with a pang. He’d just known that Snape was going to blame all of this on Harry if they’d gotten caught, and here was the evidence, staring at him right out of Snape’s glaring eyes. 

“So you’ll write to Potter’s guardians to explain the situation?” Moody inquired.

“Of course. In fact, I am thoroughly certain that Mr Potter’s guardians will be most displeased with the events that have transpired here today!” Snape said, his nostrils flaring. “Once again, I’d like to apologise for the absolutely appalling behaviour of these young men. I am certain you have far more pressing matters to deal with which their misbehaviour has detracted from.”

“Mind you two don’t do anything like this again,” Moody said sternly. “I’ll leave you to the professor.” 

Snape grabbed onto Harry and Draco with a painfully tight grip. “I will be heading back to Hogwarts, then. Goodbye, Moody, and Miss Tonks.”

Tonks gave Harry and Draco a slightly sympathetic look as they were marched from the room. When they were outside and out of earshot of the Aurors, Snape bent his head.

“I will be dealing with the two of you at home,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have a Portkey on me, given to me by the Headmaster and it is due to depart in two minutes. We cannot be inside the DMLE when it activates. Do not drag your feet.”

He pulled Harry and Draco along as fast as they could manage without looking suspicious, then yanked them into a deserted side corridor. Almost moments later, Harry felt like a hook was tugging in his navel. The Ministry vanished in an overwhelming whirlwind of colour and sound, and a great wind roared in Harry’s ears. Moments later, the three of them landed in Snape’s office. Harry stumbled in place, only keeping his feet because of Snape’s harsh grip on his arm. Moments later, however, the man released both him and Draco. 

Harry tried his best to breathe through his cresting panic as Snape stomped behind his desk and slammed his palms against the surface. 

“Based on the way Moody was speaking, am I right in presuming that you somehow managed to cover up my guardianship of Harry?” Snape ground out.

Draco nodded quickly. His face was milk-white, excluding a few red splotches from all the crying. “I lied when he asked - I made it sound like Harry still lived with his aunt and uncle.”

Snape nodded tightly, then began to pace in tight, brisk steps behind his desk. Harry jolted as Draco’s odd behaviour in the Auror office suddenly fell into place. Harry’s custody transfer was supposed to be kept top secret, wasn’t it? If he’d admitted to an Auror, of all people, the reality of his guardianship situation… Draco had saved his skin with that bit of quick thinking.

Snape stopped pacing, curled his hands into fists, and whirled around to face Harry and Draco. A vein in his forehead was bulging.

“How dare you!” he shouted. “I don’t even know where to begin with you two! Sneaking out of school - trespassing in the Ministry for Magic - I could have died of shame when Alastor Moody came over to explain just who he’d found hiding under an Invisibility Cloak!” 

Snape reached into his robes, pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, then clicked his fingers. It vanished from his grip. “I warned you specifically against sneaking this out, Harry, so you can say goodbye to ever seeing your cloak again. I ought to pitch the blasted thing into the fire!”

“No,” Harry gasped, but he didn’t have time to protest further. Snape was far from done, and his rampage wouldn’t be stopped by anything.

“Even your method of reaching the Ministry for Magic was stupidity in the extreme!” Snape bellowed. “You utilised my private Floo connection against my wishes - do you realise that I could lose my job over that, had I a less forgiving employer than Albus Dumbledore?! I had left that open in case of emergencies and you abused that to break the law! My own wards doing that is potentially a sackable offence!”

Harry wrapped his arms around his middle, feeling guiltier than ever. He hadn’t even considered that angle…

“I have never been so disappointed in my life,” Snape spat. “This was stupid, and foolhardy, and utterly senseless.”

“I just - I had to see him, Severus,” Draco choked out. Harry glanced to his side, and realised that the other boy had started to cry again - quite a while ago, it seemed. Great rivulets of tears were streaming down his cheeks. “I needed the closure -”

“There are other ways to get that!” Snape snapped, gripping the edge of his desk with white knuckles. “As I told you about five thousand times this week, Under-Seventeens are not allowed in that courtroom - and, most importantly, you oughtn’t to have done it because I told you not to!”

Something in Draco’s face hardened. “I don’t have to -”

“Do not talk back to me!” Snape shouted, and Draco jerked back. “Don’t even dare right now, Draco! Get into your room, and stay there until I’m ready to deal with you!”

He waved a hand at the hidden door behind his bookshelf, which sprung open with a bang, knocking several potions journals to the ground. Draco shot a furious, despairing look at Snape and stormed through it, his shoulders hunched.

Once Draco had exited, the door slammed shut again. Snape marched the length of the room and loomed over Harry. “And you. Where do I even start…”

Harry tried to swallow, but found the task impossible, given the tightness in his throat. “Sir, I - I can explain -”

“Explain?” Snape yelled. “I know precisely what happened for myself! At the very least, Draco was not in his right mind when he participated in this idiocy - but you? You obviously thought it would be another one of your stupid, reckless adventures!”

Harry opened his mouth in a vain attempt to explain, but that motion just seemed to encourage Snape to shout all the louder. 

“Isn’t it just the height of amusement to break into government property?” Snape seethed. “To sneak out of school, to disobey - it’s just your favourite pastime! Merlin’s beard, it’s like you have no concept of obedience! This time, your stupid bit of fun has had unalterable consequences! Do you even realise what you’ve helped do?”

Snape had seemingly grown in height - it was like he was ten feet tall. “The last thing I wanted was for Draco to witness his father in such a state! No child should see his parent like that, and you facilitated this happening!”

Harry bit down on the inside of his cheek until he drew blood. His heart was beating so quickly it felt like it might rip out of his chest.

“I gave you one job, and you failed me spectacularly,” Snape spat. He glared at Harry like he was nothing better than pond scum. “You’ve let everyone down today, Harry.”

The force of Snape’s words hit Harry like a sledgehammer, and he couldn’t quite catch a breath in the aftermath. He felt cracked, broken, and feared he might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

Snape at last stopped glowering down at Harry and flurried over to his bookshelf. He placed a hand to his temples, shoulders heaving. He just wouldn’t let Harry explain - 

And he never would, Harry realised with a sickening jolt. Snape had made up his mind about the events of today, and it wasn’t going to be changed. All he ever thought was that Harry was a stupid, reckless idiot, no matter what he did to prove otherwise.

“You always think the worst of me,” Harry said, his voice shaking. “I try so hard to do things right, but the minute I do something wrong you always just go back to assuming that I’m doing it for a laugh, and I never am!”

“Just go,” Snape said coldly. “I am far too angry to deal with you appropriately at the moment.”

Just go.

I am far too angry to deal with you -

You failed me spectacularly - 

There was a sudden, loud crash from inside of Snape’s quarters, then the sound of something shattering. Snape squeezed his eyes shut, heaved a furious sigh, then stormed through the door. Harry was alone in the frigid office, and found himself crumpling against the wall, unable to support his own weight up on his legs.

He’d ruined everything. 

Harry had just wanted to do the right thing, he’d wanted to help Draco, to help preserve his family, but in the process, he’d made Snape hate him forever.

But Harry hadn’t even managed to help Draco! If anything, he’d made things worse for the other boy. The low, animalistic moan of despair when Lucius was sentenced to life in Azkaban had been the most horrid sound of pain, one Harry would kill never to hear again. That awful, wretched look of despair on his face… and Snape said that it was Harry’s fault that had happened. It was Harry’s fault for helping Draco go…

But what choice had Harry had?

If you try to stop me, Harry, I will never forgive you - I will hate you, and I will not stop hating you for the rest of my life…

But now Snape was never, ever going to forgive Harry for not stopping Draco from going. He should have thought it through, he should have gotten Professor McGonagall, or anyone, he shouldn’t have been drawn in by Draco’s threats…

Harry let out a strangled gasp and clapped a hand over his mouth. He’d forgotten about removing the tracker! If Snape wasn’t already angry enough, this last broken rule would definitely send him over the edge -

Harry was a complete screw-up, and he’d ruined everything.

You’ve let everyone down today, Harry.

He wished Snape had struck him instead. It would have hurt less than those awful words.

Crack!

Harry whirled around and felt a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach. Three of the jars of dead things behind Snape’s desk had broken into pieces, and they were currently leaking a nasty-looking green ooze down the wall and onto the floor. There was only one person here who could be responsible for that…

Feeling a frantic, thudding sort of panic in his chest, Harry reached into his pocket and desperately pulled out his wand. “Reparo! Reparo! Reparo!” 

One by one, the shards of glass flew together to form three glasses, the jagged gaps of breakage healed over, and the containers were whole one more. There was simply one issue: they were missing their contents. Harry had no way of getting the dead things and the liquid back into the jar. Snape was going to come in, he was going to see this mess, he was going to hate Harry more than he already did, everything was ruined -

Lightheaded, Harry stumbled back and leaned against the wall. He gradually sank down against it and drew his knees close to his chest, attempting to be as small and unobtrusive as possible. His chest hurt badly, so badly that every breath was shallow and stuck nastily in his lungs. Embarrassingly enough, a few tears were burning in his eyes. Harry angrily wiped them away as they trickled their way down his cheek, hating himself for being upset. He had no reason to be, after all. He’d always known this was all too good to be true.

He let everyone down eventually. Always. That was why they always got sick of him. He’d known all along that things with Draco and Snape would go wrong, but Harry had been stupid enough to get lulled into a false sense of security. He was so stupid. If he hadn’t believed it, then maybe he wouldn’t feel like Snape had reached into Harry’s chest to tear his heart clean in two with all those awful words.

He should have listened to the Dursleys when they said nobody would ever care for him.

Just go - I am far too angry to deal with you -

Well Harry certainly wasn’t going to stick around to see what would happen. Snape had made his feelings perfectly clear - he was washing his hands of this whole situation. He was getting rid of Harry, just like he’d always known Snape would.

He yanked the door of Snape’s office open and stumbled out into the corridor. Of course, Draco was the more important one here. Draco’s stupid feelings, Draco’s stupid Death Eater father, and now Draco’s stupid decisions were ruining everything for Harry. He hadn’t had a choice - lose his brother, or lose his guardian -

Or nothing at all now, Harry reflected glumly, because Snape was certainly done with him. He hadn’t been smart enough to stop Draco from going to the Ministry, and now he was irreparably damaged from seeing his father on trial or something.

And since Harry was always second-best, he’d be cast out in favour of Draco’s wellbeing. 

Somehow, his wandering footsteps had taken Harry to the Owlery. He walked over to Hedwig’s perch and felt his eyes pool with tears again. Was he to be returned to the Dursleys, with no one but her for company? Harry wouldn't be surprised if Snape sent him back for all of this. It was something he hadn't worried about for months, but now it seemed like an absolute guarantee… 

Harry reached out a hand to stroke Hedwig. She seemed to sense his distress and made a soft hooting sound, nestling her head against Harry’s palm. He tried to take a breath in, but only ended up making a pathetic sniffling noise. Furious with himself, Harry pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as hard as he could until stars popped into his vision, willing the tears away.

“Ah, Harry! Posting a letter as well, I see."

Harry dropped his hands and spun around to find Professor Dumbledore standing in the entrance to the Owlery, a parchment envelope in his hand. 

"Oh. No, I just came to visit Hedwig,” Harry said, running the back of his hand over her feathers while Dumbledore strolled through the Owlery. He quickly swiped away a few stray tears while his back was to the Headmaster. He hoped the man would just deal with his post without noticing Harry’s face…

When he reached Harry, though, Dumbledore paused in place.

"She's a beautiful creature,” the Headmaster remarked. "I had a snowy owl myself as a boy - I believe I named him Orpheus… they’re lovely birds, aren’t they?”

Harry nodded his agreement while Hedwig preened at Dumbledore, clearly appreciating the shower of compliments. 

“I must confess, it does shock me that Severus allowed you to come here so soon after the business in the Ministry earlier," Dumbledore said, regarding Harry closely.

Harry did a double take. "You know about that?”

He realised how stupid the question was as soon as the words left his mouth. Of course Dumbledore knew. It often seemed like he knew everything.

"I try to make myself aware of the comings and goings of those in the castle in these troubled times,” Dumbledore explained. “It quickly came to my attention that we’d managed to misplace two of our students today.”

He examined Harry over the tops of his half-moon spectacles, and Harry suddenly found the dropping-covered floor very fascinating. A hot flush spread across his cheeks. 

"Erm…” Harry swallowed, mouth very dry. “I… sir, I didn't have -”

"I don't need any explanations,” Dumbledore said gently. "Severus is perfectly capable of handling this little situation on his own, I believe… although I would still implore you to stay within the boundaries of the school grounds in future, please?”

"Right, of course. Sorry.” Harry nodded vigorously. He returned his attention to Hedwig, painfully aware of how narrowly he'd just avoided getting into serious trouble. 

After attaching a letter to the ankle of one of the school post owls and watching it fly its way through the overcast sky, Dumbledore turned back to Harry. 

“So, what has gone on between you and Severus?” he inquired. “You seemed quite out of sorts when I came in here.”

“He's… yeah, he's angry,” Harry admitted quietly. A horrid, sickly sensation rose in his throat as the memories of Snape’s shouts ricocheted through his mind once more. 

“I see.” Dumbledore tilted his head to one side. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. Ever since the revelations of that summer, and since the whispered midnight conversation about Harry and Dumbledore’s role in placing him with the Dursleys, there was a new guardedness Harry found himself carrying around the Headmaster. He didn't quite know what to make of the man.

But despite all of that, Harry really, really needed someone to talk to, and Dumbledore always felt like a sympathetic ear. Before he could help himself, Harry found himself pouring out the whole horrid tale to him right there in the middle of the Owlery. 

He told the Headmaster about everything, including the way he’d been walking on eggshells around Draco for weeks, and the details of that awful argument when Harry had tried to stop him from going to the Ministry, and how scared he’d been that Draco would hate him forever if Harry didn’t do what he wanted.

He told Dumbledore about the Ministry, the grim horrors of the trial, the Auror office, and finished with the painful telling off he’d received from Snape before running out of the man’s office. By the end, the crushing weight on Harry’s chest had eased to the point of being bearable.

“He was really angry with me,” Harry whispered. “I - well, I sort of think he’s going to give up on the whole guardianship because of this…”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume so,” Dumbledore said lightly. “What gives you that impression?”

“Well - I just know I always end up being a lot of trouble,” he said miserably. “I don’t try to be, but I always get sucked into stuff without meaning to. I wouldn’t blame him for being sick of me, especially since this hurt Draco, too… but it's not like I even wanted to go with him! I felt like I didn't have a choice, after what he said about hating me!”

“Harry, do you remember what I said at the end of your first year, when I awarded Mr Longbottom ten points to Gryffindor at the end of term feast?” Dumbledore asked suddenly.

Harry’s forehead wrinkled as he thought back to that day. Amongst all the euphoria of the House Cup win and his part in it, he remembered the words Dumbledore had spoken before he gave Neville those tie-breaking points.

“It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends,” he said slowly.

“I didn’t award those points lightly, you know,” Dumbledore said, examining him over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. “There are few more difficult positions to be in than opposing someone you care about. Love has power over us unlike anything else, and sometimes the person we feel those feelings of affection towards can use love to your detriment. Young Draco may have been a tad more intentional in his wording during your argument than you’re acknowledging. He wanted to evoke those feelings of concern in you so you’d stop struggling against him and bend to his will.”

“Oh,” he said softly. 

“Severus will certainly realise this, too,” Dumbledore added. “He’s a clever man, and is highly familiar with the nature of manipulation. Once he acquires the full set of facts, he’ll put it all together.”

“Really?”

“I am sure of it,” Dumbledore said gently. He let out a small sigh. “As you are no doubt aware by now, Severus has a rather fearsome temper. I am sure many of the things he said to you are ones he will come to regret after he cools off. We all say such things in moments of anger, don’t we?”

Harry nodded. He had a bad temper himself, so he certainly knew what that was like. To Snape in particular, Harry had said all sorts of horrid things before he could stop himself which he’d really regretted…

“But you must remember, Severus is also a very stubborn man," Dumbledore added. “And that stubbornness extends to his guardianship of you - he is truly determined to see this all through, and wouldn't give up on you over a little spot of trouble. And, at any rate, Severus has grown rather fond of you."

“Oh," Harry said again, hugging himself with his arms. He never knew quite what to say when people told him stuff like that.

“It’s true,” Dumbledore said, running a hand down his long, white beard. “He’s not demonstrative about it, naturally, but he talks about you and Draco with the sort of interest and passion that only potions could summon up in him previously. You’re thoroughly embedded in his affections now, Harry, trouble and all.”

Harry pressed his lips together, feeling just the slightest bit better.

Dumbledore smiled, and made a thoughtful humming noise. “As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Severus is preparing to come and find you right now. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to return to the dungeons before he worries too badly?”

“Erm…” Harry rubbed his hands over his arms, which had abruptly broken out into goosebumps. “Okay…”

His heart thudded horribly at the prospect of facing the furious Snape yet again, but he certainly wasn't going to tell the Headmaster no. Still, Harry wasn’t quite able to motivate his legs to start moving in the direction of the exit until Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder and exerted a gentle but firm pressure, steering him towards the Owlery staircase.

"Will you do me a favour, Harry, and tell Severus about these worries you've informed me of today?” Dumbledore asked as they descended the spiral staircase. “Despite his considerable prowess for Legilimency, Severus does not make a habit of reading minds. Perhaps the both of you would be saved quite a lot of bother if you were on the same page.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed. Dumbledore wasn't exactly wrong there, he could admit. Every fight Harry had had with Snape and Draco was always exacerbated by them not talking about it for days or weeks on end. 

“Have this for the journey.” Dumbledore handed Harry a green boiled sweet wrapped in a clear, filmy wrapper. “I always find sweets can make a surprising amount of difference to the mood.”

It sounded ridiculous at first, but Harry couldn’t help but agree with the man as they descended to the dungeons. The sugary sweetness in his mouth did make him feel the tiniest bit less miserable. At the very least, focusing on the flavour helped to keep his mind off what meeting up with Snape again would entail. He tried very hard not to think about it at all, actually, and focused his mind on Dumbledore’s continual stream of conversation about the scientifically proven health benefits of sweets, most of which Harry thought the Headmaster was just making up on the spot. He was somewhat aware that he was being managed, but found he didn’t really mind. After all, Harry needed to be calm to face Snape again…

A cold pit of dread settled itself in his stomach, one which Harry tried and failed to ignore. He knew that it was better to talk about these things, but the prospect of facing the furious, disappointed Snape again was terrifying, and all Harry wanted to do was to run all the way back into the Owlery, never to be seen again.

But that wasn’t an option. Harry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and descended down the stairs to the dungeons with Dumbledore.