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Chapter Text

~ Second Year ~

It happened three days after the debacle that was dueling club. The entire school had turned on him, and Harry was caught between anger and shame as he tried to avoid the eyes of his classmates in the halls of Hogwarts. Hermione was, as always, a solid presence by his side – worried but confident that while he might be going insane he wasn’t evil. Ron, well Ron was being Ron. Why he’d ever expected his best friend to actually understand what he was going through – Ron had yet to really grasp sympathy – he’d at least thought Ron would have stopped talking about Quidditch long enough to show a little concern.

That was uncharitable, Harry chided himself. Ron was always less mature than Hermione or himself. It was just the way it was. It still hurt though.

But that was when IT happened. Harry, feeling slightly aggravated at Ron, and hostel to the world in general, wasn’t paying that much attention to his surroundings. Most everyone had left for the holidays, just a few stragglers left that were leaving in the morning via some other sort of route than the train, and he felt safe wandering the parts of the castle he still hadn’t gotten fully acquainted with. Perhaps it was unwise to go so near the Slytherin dungeons, but with only a handful of the snakes staying behind he’d figured no one would be around. And he was less than concerned about the “monster”, at least as far as his own safety was concerned. Whatever it was, he’d been close by when it attacked before and it hadn’t bothered him.

Millicent Bulstrode took him by surprise as he rounded a corner and for a moment, just a moment, Harry felt a little bit afraid. The girl was big, bigger even than Crabbe or Goyle, if only by a hair. She was practically adult sized, and according to Hermione rather fast on her feet. But instead of the typical Slytherin sneer at the sight of him, she stopped and regarded him for a moment. Harry dared not move, lest he provoke her, and slowly she came towards him, her eyes racking over him in careful assessment. When she was just a few feet away she stopped.

“You aren’t alone, Potter.” She said it so softly he had to strain to hear it. “Just… just remember that. No matter what they say, it doesn’t make you evil.”

It wasn’t until she’d already turned and left, disappearing down a side hallway, that Harry realized it wasn’t English she’d been speaking.

His first inclination was to run and tell Ron and Hermione. After all, they planned to use the Polyjuice potion in just a few days and if Bulstrode was a Parselmouth, then that meant she might be the heir… Why he’d not considered that the heir could be a girl he didn’t know. Hermione would likely hit him if he confessed that…. But the closer he got to the tower the less sure of the situation he got.

He was a parselmouth and he wasn’t opening the Chamber. Just because Bulstrode was a little scary in general, and could also talk to snakes, that didn’t make her evil automatically did it? Sure, she was in Slytherin and while Harry didn’t particularly like the House he was pretty sure the entire thing couldn’t be evil, at least not killing-innocent-people evil. Cheating at Quidditch – sure. Bullying people in the hallway – absolutely. Stealing someone’s homework and turning it in as theirs – in a heartbeat. But kill people? The entire house couldn’t be murderers, despite their horrible reputation. If they were, then just getting sorted into it would have meant prison.

No, he couldn’t tell Ron or Hermione. Ron would jump to conclusions and Hermione would… he wasn’t sure what Hermione would do. There’d been a point, in first year, that she and Bulstrode had been on slight speaking terms. Not friends, surely, but at least able to partner together in classes without fighting. Hermione was logical, and not one to jump to conclusions, so maybe she’d be calm about it. But no way could he tell Hermione without telling Ron. And no matter how much Harry distrusted Slytherins he didn’t want anyone else to be going through what he was. And if her secret got out, Bulstrode would be ostracized.

The next day he watched her during the meals in the Great Hall. The other Slytherins seemed to ignore her at best, bully her at the worst. Or at least they tried to, some of the older ones. But the large girl held her own and didn’t react. Soon they tired of their victim not responding and moved on to torment the first years that had stayed. Word came that the carriage that was supposed to take her and two others had been delayed by a storm and he watched her face fall. She’d be staying after all. Bulstrode ate her meals quietly, alone, and when she left the hall no one went with her. In fact, as Harry took to trailing her around the school it became apparent that no body, in any house, wanted anything to do with her – or the other two students whose carriage had been canceled. It was like the three of them were all considered less, and even avoided each other as if to band together would somehow make it worse.

Her only company, as far as Harry could see, was her cat.

He knew what being that alone felt like.

After the failed attempt at getting information out of Malfoy, Harry made sure Hermione was okay in the hospital wing and then made an escape. He didn’t have much, just the plum cake from Mrs. Weasley, but it was something and he suspected, after watching the way they treated her in the Hall, she probably hadn’t gotten anything from her year-mates.

Harry found her in the far Greenhouse after asking the Friar’s ghost if he’d seen her. Luckily he had, and Harry wrapped his cloak tightly as he fought his way through the snow and darkness to the small glass building. A heating charm kept it warm in there and he found Bulstrode huddled with her cat in the back corner, stroking the leaves of a Mandrake plant. There was a slight happy gurgle coming from the pot.

“What do you want, Potter?” She asked bitterly without looking up.

Harry sat down slowly keeping a good distance between them. “I wanted to see if you’d like to share my cake with me.” He held out the small plum cake. “Mrs. Weasley sent it and she’s really good with cake.”

Bulstrode looked up and frowned. “Why would you share it with me?”

Harry set the plate down between them. The large black cat sniffed the air but didn’t move from its perch on her lap. “Because I know what it’s like not to have friends at Christmas. And you took a big risk the other day…saying what you did – how you did.” Harry blushed slightly and looked away. “I want to thank you for that. You had no reason to trust me.”

Bulstrode leaned forward and sliced off a piece of cake before nudging the plate back towards him. “I had no reason not to either. Aren’t exactly a lot of us around, Potter. I figured… it might help to know you weren’t alone.”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled and took his own slice. “It does actually. I mean, I’m rather used to being a freak but when I came here, well, I thought maybe I’d be normal for once.” He snorted bitterly. “That obviously wasn’t the case.”

“I just want to get through it.” Bulstrode grumbled taking a bite of the cake and nodding approvingly at the taste. “Hogwarts is like a long painful rite of passage that my family must endure every generation. Like a seven-year prison sentence.”

“Is it that bad in Slytherin?” Harry asked, confused.

“It’s not my House, Potter.” Bulstrode stretched and her cat got up with a glare. She mollified it with a corner of the cake. “I mean, look at me. It’s pretty obviously what I am.”

“ah…” Harry scrunched his forehead in confusion. “A girl?”

Bulstrode laughed. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I guess that’s why you were willing to be nice. You don’t know.”

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” Harry said, squinting for a closer look. “I mean, we both talk to snakes. What’s worse than that?”

“Parseltongue is dead useful.” Bulstrode corrected glumly. “Being less than human is just… inconvenient.”

“Oh.” Harry looked at her a little more closely. “You mean, one of your parents isn’t….”

“My dad’s half giant like Hagrid.” Bulstrode admitted quietly. “And my mum is a quarter goblin. And her mum was a muggleborn.”

Harry shrugged. “That must make family dinner rather an adventure.”

She looked up at him and eyed him critically. “No jokes about the less than halfblood in Slytherin?”

“I don’t see how you are less than half.” Harry scratched his head and took another bite of cake. “I mean, giants and goblins have magic right? So what difference would it make even to a Slytherin? I couldn’t care less either way.”

“You don’t know any better. You were obviously raised in a barn.”

“Broom cupboard actually.” Harry confessed softly.

That earned a genuine laugh from the girl. “Well, if I looked hard enough there’s probably a house-elf in our woodpile too, if it makes you feel better. My family… well, we’ve been outside the norm for a long time. Once you have a kid with a non-human….” She looked down and away. “We aren’t welcome in most places. I know that carriage wasn’t delayed by a storm. They just, they just didn’t want to carry three half breeds home to the village, not even for Yule, and not even with the headmaster paying for it. Nobody goes to ¬¬¬¬¬¬Anhaeddiannol if they don’t have to.”

Harry moved closer so he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. The black cat came up and nudged his knee and he reached down and scratched its ears. The creature purred and rubbed its face against him. “I don’t think you’re less than me, Millicent.” He held out another piece of cake. “In fact, you’re more than I am by at least two feet.”

“I can’t help that I’m tall.” She huffed and grabbed at the cake, glaring. “I take after my father.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I?” Harry asked, smirking. “At least you don’t have to worry about Crabbe sitting on you and crushing you. If I got any smaller I’d have to borrow Flitwick’s stepping stool.”

That made her smile. “You are terribly short, Potter. Even my mum is taller than you.”

“Makes me a better seeker.”

“Whatever you need to believe to make it through the day, Boy-Who-Lived. Whatever you need.”

Harry wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t exactly spend time in the hallways with his new friend conversing in their secret language. But Millicent was right – Parseltongue did have its uses. It didn’t take much to bribe a small snake into delivering messages back and forth. While far from popular, Millicent wasn’t willing to do anything to make life harder on herself in her House, so they kept their face-to-face meetings secret.

At first it was hard to keep something like that from Ron and Hermione but it was nice, for once, to have something that was just for him. And Millicent didn’t care if he showed up sweaty from practice or if he got his homework done on time. She just appreciated having someone to talk to, someone who didn’t mind if she shared stories about her rather unorthodox family and the village of not-quite-entirely-humans they lived in. And she had a ton of stories, some funny, some sad. But most importantly it was obvious how much her parents loved her, and how much she cared for them.

But there was something wrong. Harry could tell. As the end of the school year neared he finally asked, “Millicent, why don’t you want to go home?”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked softly, petting her cat slowly.

“To me.” Harry sighed. “I know why I hate going back to the Dursleys, but from all your stories it sounds like you’ve got a wonderful family. I’d trade you in second.”

“I had a wonderful family.” Millicent curled up, clutching her knees. “Harry, I know you lost your parents, but you were a baby. Have you ever lost anyone you can remember?”

“No.” Harry confessed softly. “I can’t remember them at all. And until I got to Hogwarts there wasn’t anybody I cared about enough to miss if they did go away.”

“Mum’s dying.” Millicent confessed softly, not meeting Harry’s eyes. “She has a congenital condition, only goblins and part goblins have it and St. Mungos won’t treat her. They don’t treat mixed species unless someone like Dumbledore makes them and we don’t have the connections to force them to. Dad does what he can, but the treatments are expensive in Knockturn Alley and… I hate to see her in so much pain.”

Harry reached out and took his friend’s hand. “Can’t the goblin’s help?”

Millicent brushed a tear off her face. “Harry, they don’t like us any more than the Purebloods do. Nobody likes a mixed breed.”

Harry frowned. “That’s not right. None of this is right.” He took her hand and held it tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Millicent looked down and blinked hard, trying to keep her tears back. “Some things not even the Boy Who Lived can fix, Harry.”

Chapter Text

Harry and Millicent traded letters over the summer using a post owl. Hedwig was too obvious and Millicent was worried that her neighbors would make the connection. Harry thought she was being extra paranoid, but he slipped her a few gallons on the train to rent one for the summer anyway. She didn’t like taking his money, and he had to remind her that he was benefiting from it as much as she was before she’d agree. It was nice to have someone else to talk to, even if it was by owl.

Ron’s letters were always short and light – about nonsense and food and quidditch and the twins. Hermione’s letters were always organized and succinct, short because she got to the point not because she was rushed like Ron, and all about summer homework, the new spells she wanted to try out, ideas she had for projects and things to research when she had access to the library again. Millie’s letters were always long and full of detail. She’d talk about the trip she and her cousin Magnus went on to the swamp to get potion ingredients and how her father got mad at them for bringing mud in the house. She talked about her mother, and the way her breathing was more and more labored. Details – exacting details. But no emotions behind them, not in words. But Harry could read them, in the blank spaces between the lines. Pages and pages of emotions and it broke his heart.

He didn’t want to break her confidence, but as the letters got longer, and the details harder to read, he had to do something to try and help her and her mother. Mr. Weasley was the only person he knew that would listen, that might know some way to help. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he sent Hedwig to deliver a letter asking him to visit, that Harry had a favor to ask. It certainly wasn’t for Mr. Weasley to ring the Dursley’s doorbell less than 20 minutes after he’d lost sight of his owl.

Arthur Weasley looked just like Harry remembered him, sort of frayed on the edges but happy, like the wizard equivalent of a well-loved pair of socks. Luckily it was his aunt that answered the door, his uncle at work, or Harry was sure there would have been hell to pay. Mr. Weasley’s attempt at muggle clothes was laughable and it was broad daylight. His aunt pursed her lips, frowned, but let the man in. Harry had no delusion that she did so only to keep anyone from seeing the mismatched rumpled man standing on her doorstep. Harry got them both glasses of lemonade and took his friend’s father into the backyard to talk before his aunt changed her mind.

Mr. Weasley’s eyes swept the house and yard with a critical and slightly disapproving air. “Harry, why aren’t there any pictures of you in the house?” He asked softly, after Harry had motioned for him to take a seat on the bench at the corner of the yard. It was a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of the neighbors as long as you stayed seated. He caught his aunt’s slight narrowing of eyes through the kitchen window as she pretended to do the washing up to keep an eye on them.

“My family doesn’t like me much.” Harry admitted. “My uncle wouldn’t have let you in.” Harry blushed slightly. “I wasn’t expecting you’d drop everything and come all the way here, Mr. Weasley. I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

“Nonsense.” The wizard waved off the concern. “I’m visiting a muggle house. It’s a fact-finding mission.” He winked. “Besides, it’s not every day you owl and ask me for something, Harry.” His eyes narrowed and he put a hand gently on the younger man’s shoulder. “Have they been mistreating you again? I had a long talk with Albus after what the twins told me happened last year. I wanted you to come stay with us but there are reasons you had to come back here. But I’ve been popping around every few days and trying to look in on you, as best I could without making a nuisance of myself.”

“Oh.” Harry felt extra terrible. “I don’t mean to be so much trouble, honest. You don’t have to do that.”

Mr. Weasley withdrew his hand with a sigh. “Harry, you saved Ginny’s life. And even if you hadn’t, you deserve some care, care you obviously aren’t getting from your muggle relatives. If there’s anything I can do for you, I will. Even if Albus wouldn’t consent to letting us adopt you…”

He trailed off at the startled yelp Harry gave. “Albus didn’t tell you?” He asked, looking slightly guilty.

“No.” Harry admitted, shaking slightly. “I… you asked to adopt me?”

“Twice.” Arthur admitted in a subdued tone. “Once just after we heard what happened when you were a baby. Molly and I, we didn’t know your parents well – we were older than they were, out of Hogwarts by the time they started actually. But during the war, we’d worked with them quite a bit. We knew you had no living wizarding relatives and we could have made room. But you’d already been placed here by the time we found out and, well, I suppose the rest is history. I asked again last summer but, things are complicated.” He grimaced. “I wish I could tell you more, Harry, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But you are safe here, from the people that killed your parents, safer than you would be at the Burrow at any rate. But if these muggles hurt you…”

“No!” Harry denied quickly. “That wasn’t why I owled you, Mr. Weasley.”

“Call me Arthur, Harry.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve never been much of a one for formality.” His smile turned serious. “but if it wasn’t about your relatives, what is it?”

After swearing the wizard to secrecy he confessed to his best friend’s father that he had another friend – one that needed his help. The story poured out of him in great gushes of words and Harry knew he was rambling but it was such a relief to tell someone. He even pulled out several of Millie’s letters to show him exactly how bad off his friend’s mother was.

“And there you have it, Mr. Weasley. I don’t know what to do, but Millie’s mother is dying and there’s things that can help but they don’t have the money and I’d give them money, but I know they wouldn’t take it.” Harry hung his head. “I keep trying to think of something I can do – I don’t know, an anonymous donation or something? But then Millie isn’t an idiot, she’d know it was me even if my name wasn’t on it.”

“Damn those stupid…” Mr. Weasley rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I knew Agnes in school. She was my partner in herbology for two years. I had no idea she was so ill.” Arthur made a pained sigh. “St. Mungos was founded to care for all magical people, but in the last few decades new rules have been enacted, brought about by blood-purists, to restrict care. She should be in hospital but unless we can get her to the wizarding hospital in St. Petersburg there’s nowhere to treat her. Unless…”

Arthur stood up and grabbed his cloak. “Harry, I need you to trust me. There’s someone else we need to tell about this.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Millie would kill me if she knew I told you. She’s got it hard enough without Slytherin knowing she’s friends with me.”

“Just one Slytherin, and trust me, his bark is worse than his…” Arthur trailed off and then looked sheepish. “Actually, his bite is just as bad as his bark, but he’s far more careful where he aims it. What we need is a source for her potions that isn’t St. Mungos or Knockturn. And I know just the person for it.”

His aunt glared daggers at them as Mr. Weasley asked her if it was alright to take Harry on a short trip. He promised to have him back by evening but Aunt Petunia waved him off.

“Franky I don’t care if you ever bring him back. Just don’t let the neighbors catch sight of you disappearing and reappearing. And get better clothes, you look like a vagabond.”

Mr. Weasley kept his tone polite through the exchange but Harry could tell he wanted to say something more to the woman. In fact, if Harry didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Arthur’s hand had gone for his wand at one point. Apparently he wanted to choose his battles and getting Aunt Petunia’s agreement for the trip was more important than taking her to task for her lack of familiar feeling.

Arthur lead the way towards the park at the end of the housing edition, scanning the road as they walked. “Harry,” he said softly once they were away from the house. “I know you probably don’t keep up on the Prophet, but…” Arthur grimaced. “There was an… incident. Shortly after we got back from our trip. Someone escaped from Azkaban.” He looked down. “Do you know what Azkaban is?” Harry shook his head no.

Arthur ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Yes, well, it’s the wizarding prison for Great Britain. The man, Sirius Black, was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. We don’t know that he’d try to go after you, but we need to be extra careful. Please don’t wander off and keep me in sight at all times. Albus is already going to have a fit when he finds out I took you past the wards. We don’t need to get anyone more upset if they find out I didn’t take precautions.”

“There are wards on my aunt’s house?”

“Countless ones.” Arthur confessed. “I could only find it because Albus trusted me to look in on you now and then and he added me to them before term ended. If he hadn’t warded the place so tightly you’d have grown up drowning in reporters.”

“Oh.” Harry shivered. “Good.”

They reached a rather ugly and deserted clearing in the park and Arthur stopped. “This is the only place in the neighborhood where a wizard or witch can apparate from. Have you ever side-alonged?”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable the first few times. Ron tends to gag a bit.” Arthur warned, holding out his hand. “You have to stay in contact with me for this to work. Ready?”

Harry bit his lip but took the man’s hand. “I guess.”

Mr. Weasley apparated them into a park near a dingy little cluster of row houses. The shock of the apparition took a moment to get over and at first Harry thought that was the cause of his stomach rolling. But as he straightened up, the true cause of his nausea presented itself. They’d appeared next to a grey and dismal river, the contents looking oddly thick and sluggish. His nose scrunched up at the smell of industrial chemicals that seemed to linger in the air from the filthy river. Without a word Arthur started walking towards the row of houses and Harry followed, gazing about in growing concern. The people he saw through the windows of the nearby homes looked tired, and worn. Everything looked tired and worn, and half broken or abandoned – much like Knockturn Alley had on his short visit the previous summer. It felt very similar, like a cheerless soul eating place, and as Mr. Weasley knocked on the most worn and cheerless door of the lot Harry couldn’t help but move behind him, half hidden by the wizard’s robes.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Prof. Snape to open the door was not it.

“What do you want, Weasley?” Snape bit out, sounding more tired than angry for once. He wasn’t in his teaching robes, just a faded pair of black trousers and a sweater that might once have had color but was now a muted grey. He was wearing slippers – actual slippers – and Harry stared at them in shock from his hiding place.

“Severus,” Arthur stated calmly, reaching behind himself to pull Harry forward despite his protest. “Harry and I have a private matter to discuss with you regarding one of your students. It requires discretion, for their sake not Harry’s, and I ask you to hear him out.”

Severus’ entire demeanor changed as he caught sight of Harry and the young wizard watched as the older man stiffened, his exhaustion replaced by the familiar mask of irritation and suspicion.

“Potter, interrupting even my summer holidays with your unconscionable drama.” He drawled.

“Please,” Harry’s voice cracked and he looked down, trying to keep his usual anger from rising to the bate. “Please sir, it wasn’t my idea to ask you for help. I went to Mr. Weasley thinking he might know something I didn’t. I wouldn’t have bothered you. You probably know all about it anyway. She’s in your house. If there was something you could or would do to help, you’d have done it already. If I’d realized you were the person Mr. Weasley was bringing me to see I would have told him not to bother.”

That seemed to get the potion master’s attention. “Who is in my house, Potter? And why would you go to Weasley for help regarding them? Have they threatened you?”

“No!” Harry’s looked up indigently. “Millie is my friend, sir, and she needs help, professor, and I can’t stand to see her…” he trailed off as Snape’s entire expression changed once again. The scowl was replaced with a look of startled confusion and the door opened wider.

“Come in.” Snape said softly. “I’ll put on the kittle.”

Snape’s sitting room was not what Harry would have imagined if he’d ever bothered to wonder what Snape’s sitting room might look like. The furniture was old and tattered, the curtains stiff with dust, but the books – oh there were books everywhere and Harry could only imagine the joy on Hermione’s face if she’d been standing there with him. As it was, Arthur seemed to know the place at least passably well as he moved a pile of papers off a chair that Harry had thought was a table and took a seat. Harry stayed where he was, just inside the doorway. Snape eventually returned with three mugs of tea from the kitchen and Harry took his with shaking hands.

“Will you sit down!” Snape bellowed and pointed at the only seat open – the one next to him on the tiny moth eaten couch.

Harry lowered himself carefully and took a deep breath, staring at the wall opposite him rather than look at his professor. “Did you know her mother is dying?” Harry asked softly. He could feel Snape stiffen in his seat next to him. “I guess not.” Harry turned to look at him and for the first time he saw some hint of pity in the man’s eyes. “I know you probably think it’s impossible that I care, sir. But Millie and I… we’ve been friends for a while now and even though we have to keep it quiet, she doesn’t want to be even more a target…” Harry trailed off.

Snape’s eyes closed. “Potter…” he seemed to struggle for words for a moment. “Maybe there is a bit of your mother in you somewhere.” He admitted softly and Harry’s head shot up to stare at him in shock. Seeing that reaction the professor sighed tiredly. “That, Potter, is a conversation best saved for another time. Now, what, exactly, has Ms. Bulstrode been keeping to herself?”

Harry told him, about how the girl’s mother was ill and couldn’t get treatment. He told him about how they couldn’t afford the potions in Knockturn and that Harry knew, based on how she’d protested his paying for the owl rental, how they’d never take money from him if he offered. “But she’s dying!” Harry nearly yelled in exasperation. “It’s not charity, she’s my friend and I want to help her!”

“Even if you paid for the potions, Potter, it wouldn’t solve anything.” Snape sighed heavily. “Goblin’s are susceptible to congestive heart failure, particularly those with part goblin and part wizard heritage. There’s something about the mixing of the species that seems to make people particularly likely to come down with it with just the slightest provocation. And those charlatans in Knockturn Alley will take a family for every dime they have, giving them half strength potions so they come back more often and more desperate and more willing to pay. They need access to the real thing – and only St. Mungos carries it.”

Snape stood up and motioned for Harry and Mr. Weasley to follow him. The kitchen was tiny, even smaller than Harry had thought from what he could see in the doorway, the cabinets a rusted and stained metal that might have once been white but was now a sickly yellow. Everything was scrubbed as clean as Snape could get it, but the age showed on every item in the room. The dry sink was a pitted and chipped porcelain but fairly gleamed as the only actually white thing left in the house. Through the window Harry could see a hand pump near the alley that ran between the houses, a broken brick path leading to it from each of the houses in view. A leaning building along the fence between Snape’s back garden and the house next door appeared to be the only lavatory.

Snape didn’t give him much more time to look around, instead yanking open the door to the back garden. There was as little space behind the house as in it, but Harry could see where Snape had tried to grow a few of the herbs he’d use in potions. Apparently whatever industry had poisoned the river had also poisoned the land, and only sickly looking blades of overgrown grass and weeds had managed to stay alive. At some point the potion master must have given up and Harry’s heart actually hurt a little to see the abandoned beds that he must have spent hours hollowing out between broken cobblestones. The house next door was abandoned, and he must have tried there to, for Harry could see the same evidence of failed herbology littering an equally bleak looking stone back terrace.

There was a small metal door set in at an angle just before the shared lavatory and Snape yanked the rusted metal twice before it opened. There was a smell of dank rot that lifted up from the cellar but the professor never the less strode down the rickety wooden steps with purpose. Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow but followed and Harry had no choice but to join them.

Once again the professor surprised him. Whatever had originally been in place under the old row houses it had long been repurposed. Once past the damp and soggy entrance, and through a small wooden door that Snape had to almost bend in half to enter, there was a cavern of a space, the brick support arches for the homes above covered in a liberal coating of white wash and lite by magic torches that sprang to life as they entered.

“This is my private lab.” Snape explained, some pride clear in his voice. “The cellar spans all the homes in this row. Since only mine and Mrs. Keller’s are still occupied, I walled off her portion from the rest and made some use of the remaining space.”

By something he meant quite a lot. While the house itself seemed to be frozen in a sad and neglectful time, the lab was, Harry got the impression, state of the art – for the wizarding world. There was a wall of potion equipment all neatly categorized and sparklingly clean. There was another room off to the side that glowed with protective wards that was probably where all the raw ingredients were kept. The work tables were all laid out with good space between them, containment charms woven into the stone slab that made up the floor. There were experiments running on two of them, the caldrons bubbling merrily over their magical fires. Clearly Snape spent the majority of his time down here, not in the dreary rooms upstairs, and Harry thought it a vast improvement despite the humidity and heat from the potions.

Snape motioned them towards a free table. “If she’d come to me I would have given her the potions she needs. In fact, I regularly brew them for Prof. Flitwick’s cousin. I can easily increase the size of the batches. The ingredients are neither rare nor expensive but it takes a master brewer to manage the process. It won’t cure her, but it should provide a measure of comfort to her and slow the progression of the disease. If nothing else her quality of life should improve.” Snape took a large cauldron off the wall and set it on his work table. He waved his wand and the wards on the far room fell with a fizzle. “Potter, I need you to get me the following…”

Snape rattled off a long list of ingredients and Harry hurried to grab them, thankful that his professor’s personal stores were labeled and organized far better than the student cupboard at Hogwarts. Of course, given how many students used it daily, that was likely not by Snape’s choice.

Mr. Weasley watched as Snape brewed, and Harry did exactly as he was told. The potion had a lot of elements to it, and Snape was doing things he’d never seen before – using his wand and several other magical objects to aid in the brewing. Clearly this wasn’t a potion that just anybody could make, and given the expression on Mr. Weasley’s face as Snape muttered a long string of Latin and the potion groaned and turned several colors, it was quite an honor to watch it happen.

With a flourish of his wand Snape set the fire under the cauldron and motioned them towards the ladder out. “That will need to brew for three hours. Until then we may as well go back upstairs. I only have one chair down here.”

After the bright white of the lab walls, the inside of Snape’s house seemed even more dank and dismal. It really was no wonder that Snape had such a dour personality if he’d lived here his entire life. Mr. Weasley and Snape went back into the sitting room and started discussing some business or other with Ministry politics, and Harry took a chance to wander around the small kitchen. There was another door off the sitting room that must have lead to a staircase. Harry could see the rise in the kitchen, where the ceiling was angled to accommodate the stairs. Where other homes would have had a cupboard, the house was so small that a tiny table was fitted half under it. An old apron was hung on a hook, dark with stains and faded by use, Harry could barely make out the berry pattern on the ruffle that ran along the bottom. Like everything else in the kitchen it was clean, free of the dust that lived on everything in the sitting room, but Harry got the feeling that it wasn’t used – not any more. Snape left it there for some other reason and when he brushed it aside to look at the wall a collection of marks and dates, the kind Aunt Petunia used to measure Dudley as he grew, revealed themselves. “Severus, Jan. 9, 1961. 1 year old.” Read the first one, written in pencil on the beadboard, visible more from the indentation it left than in the actual graphite. Once again Harry felt his heart flutter in sympathy.

Snape had grown up here – in this run down little hovel of a muggle house. Poor, without even running water, and based on the lack of any fixtures Harry guessed no electricity either. The cooker seemed to run off of wood or coal and he suspected it was the only source of heat for the house, the chimney running up next to the stairs. There was precious little in the small room to give it joy or personality, beyond the apron, and Harry was surprised when he turned around to find the man in question staring at him not with anger but with curiosity.

“Mr. Weasley has returned home. When the potion is done, we will deliver it to the Bulstrodes and I will return you to your relatives.” Snape pulled out one of the worn kitchen chairs and sat down. “I’m afraid there’s not much for you to investigate in my home, Potter. There’s only four rooms.”

Harry let go of the apron guiltily and let it fall back into place, hiding the growth marks. He pulled out the only other chair and sat at the little table, his head just barely missing the rise of the stair. “I didn’t want to pry sir, and you and Mr. Weasley seemed to want to talk without me. I thought it better I stayed in here.”

Snape gave a weak and bitter smile. “This was always the safest room in the house.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d see you sit there. Your mother favored that chair. She liked to be able to see out the side window. Why I have no idea. It just looks out onto the road, and the factory lot across it.”

Harry froze for a moment. “Yes, your mother.” Snape sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I never wanted to have this conversation, Potter. I thought it best you never knew. But Weasley made a sound argument that I should tell you; that there was no one else who could tell you about her.”

“You knew my mum?”

Snape stood and moved to the door into the yard and pointed out the small window. “Your grandparents lived just over there, the other side of the mill in the old cobblers shop. They ran a little store out of the bottom and lived above it, sold cameras and developed film. Lily went to the public school in the next town over, her mother drove her everyday. We didn’t meet except by accident in the old playground by the river, a few years before our letters came.” Snape kept staring out the window. “I hadn’t many friends, as you can imagine, and I saw her doing magic and she was afraid – didn’t know what had really happened. I told her she was a witch. We usually stayed near her house, it was a nicer part of town, but sometimes, when my father was working late, we would come here and mother would tell us about the wizarding world while she cooked.”

“Your mother was a witch?” Harry asked, almost afraid to break the moment.

Snape nodded. “A pureblood from the Prince family. What she ever saw in my brute of a muggle father I will never understand. She left a life of privilege for an outdoor loo.” Snape sneered bitterly out the window.

Harry laid his head on his arms on the table and looked out the side window at the now abandoned mill stack. It was very weird to be sitting in his potion master’s kitchen, and having a civil conversation, but if his professor had known his mother… Harry was willing to set aside just about all his animosity if it meant a chance to learn more about his parents. “I wish I could remember her, my mother.” He finally admitted, more to fill the silence than to be forthcoming. “People always talk about my father, how I look like him. Nobody ever says anything about my mum.” Snape gave him a questioning look and Harry shrugged. “Aunt Petunia yells at me sometimes, says I’m just like her, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Petunia is a cow of a woman.” Snape sneered and turned fully back towards the room, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “I argued with Dumbledore, tried to get him to let you stay with the Weasleys, or even at Hogwarts, rather than send you there. If she’s half as despicable as an adult as she was a girl…” Snape shook his head. “Horse faced banshee,” he muttered.

Harry snickered and Snape raised an eyebrow. “Fairly accurate description, sir. She certainly yells like one when I burn the dinner.”

“You like to cook?” Snape asked, seemingly surprised.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t mind it so much, at least when I get to eat some of it. There are worse chores. It’s loads better than cleaning Dudley’s room. Dudley’s my cousin and he takes all kinds of food up there and lets it rot and then I have to try and pry it off the carpet.” Harry made a face. “I tell you he’s got to be part troll.”

Snape’s body stiffened a bit. “You don’t always get to eat dinner, not even when you cook it?”

Harry got a funny feeling he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Ah… sometimes. If, if my aunt or uncle aren’t happy with me.”

“Does that happen often?”

Harry looked away. “Just sometimes. But it’s okay, professor, it is. They usually just leave me alone then, and I can go to my cupboard.” He felt himself pulling back a little into that odd space beneath Snape’s stairs and had to stop himself from sliding off the chair to hide in the corner.

Snape seemed to sense that he’d reached the end of what he would get out of the boy and changed the subject. “Would you like to see your grandparent’s house? It’s been renovated and a couple have opened up a cupcake shop there now.”

Harry nodded and stood up. “Sure. That would be nice.”

The walk to the ‘nicer’ side of town apparently meant traversing more abandoned row houses and a mostly derelict factory lot. The heavy industry that had made the town had long since dried up and abandoned its workers to even harsher poverty and unemployment. When they reached the street his grandparents used to live on it was only marginally better – a few shop fronts open here and there, a small convenience store, a bar. The cupcake shop was the only thing with fresh paint on it and it stood out like a beacon on the bleak street.

“Your grandmother had been a driver in the war.” Snape said softly while he pointed to a carriage door on the side of the building. “She and your grandfather picked that building because there was enough room for three cars in the garage. Everyone thought he was the one that fixed them up, but it was really your grandmother that was the mechanic – she’d been in the MPC during the war. She’d buy an old car, fix it up, and they’d sell it for a little extra money. Your grandfather wanted to be a photographer but he never made it as an artist. He did the school pictures for all the locals, and developed film, and they got by.” Snape shook his head. “They died too young, a few months before you were born. A drunk driver hit their car and it went into the river.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked to try and get that image out of his head, the filthy river and how horrible that must have been. “My aunt told me that was how my parents died, sort of.”

Snape looked down at him. “What did she say?”

“That my dad was drunk and he killed mom in an accident.” Harry said without making eye contact. “I always thought she must be lying. When Hagrid told me what really happened…”

“James Potter was many things but he wasn’t a drunk. I’ll give him that much. And he couldn’t have driven a car even with your mother shouting instructions at him. He was hopeless around muggle technology.” Snape sighed and rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose. “Potter, there are many things I regret in my life. How my friendship with your mother ended is the largest of them. But I swore the day she died that I’d do what I could to protect you, for her sake, and while I’m not always the most congenial of persons, you should not fear asking me for help.” He turned serious dark eyes on his student. “If those relatives of yours fail to feed you even once I want to know about it. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Harry responded softly. “But it’s really not worth your trouble.”

“I’ll decide what is or is not worth my trouble.” Snape groused. “Now, let’s go down and buy ridiculously overpriced confections so we can reasonably ask to show you around.”

The couple that owned the shop were only too happy to show them around the little apartment that was over the store. It was tiny but it felt well loved, like a real home, and Harry wished he’d gotten a chance to meet his grandparents. The couple had renovated nearly everything but Snape moved with a purpose towards the back corner and in what had become a small office he bent down to lift up a register grate. He reached inside and to the astonishment of both the couple and Harry he pulled out a small book. “I wondered if she left it behind.” He looked down at it and patted the cover. “This was your mother’s room, Harry.” He motioned him forward and Harry went with a lump in his throat. “This book was your grandmother’s first, and your mothers after that. The idea was that this would be a diary of important events, to pass down from mother to daughter.” Snape ran a hand over the window sill. “When we were young your mother talked about how much she loved this place, how she wanted to keep the shop in the family. After her parents died, Lily never sold it – it was only after she…she passed, that Dumbledore liquidated portions of the estate to make it easier to manage that it was sold. I was away when I happened and never got a chance to return for this.” Snape held the book out. “You should have it.” His voice was gruff by the time he finished.

Harry took the small book with shaking hands. It wasn’t a diary really, it was too small, but there were names and dates and little notes about important things. The handwriting changed about a quarter of the way through the written portion and Harry touched the page where the change happened with reverence.

There was some quiet conversation between the adults that Harry didn’t pay attention to as he clutched his little book. The walk back to Snape’s house was silent and when they finally reached the little kitchen he crawled into the corner under the table without even looking at his professor. The book had just become the most precious thing he owned, and Harry wanted to be as safe as he could be while he read and reread the little notes his grandmother and mother had written to chronical life in the tiny little apartment.

They just wrote little notes about big things, short and to the point, but Harry quickly found the one from his mother that said, “Met a boy named Severus. Turns out I’m a witch.” This was followed by her Hogwarts letter and a string of random facts before, “Fought with Severus at school. He won’t be coming over anymore.” There was another long break in the dates and then “James proposed. I accepted. I guess this means I won’t take over da’s shop. I’m not sure I’m happy about that part.” A small note under that, “Severus won the big research prize from the Ministry, just like I knew he would.” Then, “We’re getting married in three days. I didn’t tell mom, but I think I’m already pregnant. If it’s a boy we want to name him Harry, if it’s a girl James insists on Rose.” There were tear stains on the next page, “Mum and dad are gone. They didn’t even get to meet Harry.” The ink changed to a bright green, “Read in paper, Severus has his mastery. I’m happy for him but I wish I could tell him that instead of writing it here.” The last entry, “We are going into hiding from the Dark Lord. If I don’t make it back, whoever finds this, please know we were here.” Pasted under the line was a small photo of a baby in his mother’s arms – Lily’s red hair a wild mass of curls making a halo around them both.

Snape left him alone, coming and going several times to check on the potion. When it began to grow dark he lit a lamp on the table and cleared his voice. “Harry, it’s getting late and the potion is nearly done. Why don’t you come out now and help me bottle it? We’ll take it to the Bulstrodes tonight yet and then you can take your book back home.”

The idea of taking the book there, and what would happen if the Dursleys found it, made Harry’s eyes large as he crawled out. “Can – can you keep it?” He asked, shakily. “Until I can find somewhere safe for it? My trunk’s been broken into before.”

Snape eyed him carefully. “May I suggest we put it in your vault, at Gringotts? That’s the safest place.”

Harry nodded. “That’s brilliant!”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I am your professor, Potter. It would stand to reason I have a few ideas you haven’t thought of. It will be too late to take it tonight. I can keep it until we can arrange for you to go into Diagon for your supplies.”

Harry held the book out reluctantly. “You can read it, if you want, while you keep it.”

Snape took it slowly. “I lost that right a long time ago, Harry, but thank you.”

“What did you fight about? She didn’t say, just that you’d fought,” he asked, instantly regretting it when his professor’s shoulders stiffened.

“She put our fight in the Book of Important Things?” Snape whispered, clearly shaken. “She said only very important things went in there.”

“She put down when you met, when your mother died, when you won some kind of prize, and when you fought. She even made a note about reading in the paper that you gained your mastery.” Harry replied softly. “You are in there more than my dad.”

“Oh.” Severus said in a tight voice. “I… I always thought she was still angry.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry gestured to the book. “She sounded sad. She wanted to congratulate you but thought she couldn’t.”

“It wouldn’t have been wise, not then.” Snape looked down at the book and clutched it just as tightly to his chest as Harry had. “Are you sure you want me to keep this, even for a day?”

“Positive.” Harry replied, more sure now. “I think you need to read that as much as I did.”

Chapter Text

Snape paused as they exited the potion lab, locking it behind them with his wand. “Potter, listen to me carefully.” He turned serious, dark eyes on his student. “There is more going on in our world than you are aware, things the headmaster has deemed you too young to know. There are reasons, beyond my intense dislike of your father, for how I behave towards you in public. Being seen with you outside of Hogwarts is a risk and the only reason I have done so today is that this area is entirely muggle and no wizard is ever going to question these people. Taking you with me now is considerably more dangerous and I am doing it only because Ms. Bulstrode and her family suffer enough at the hands of prejudiced Ministry officials; to deny them aid when I could grant it is anathema to me. Your friendship may be the only bright spot in that poor girl’s life, now or in the future. But they do not need to be dragged into the growing conflict that I expect will soon return in full force to our world; they can’t afford to be. For that reason you must not leave my side, and you will refrain from interacting with anyone, or even making eye contact with anyone, outside of the Bulstrodes while we are there. Do you understand me? It could mean all our lives are forfeit if you are recognized.” He handed Harry a cloak. “You will wear this and keep the hood up until we are safely inside their home.”

A shiver went down Harry’s spine. “You think Voldemort will come back, don’t you? That’s he’s not really gone.”

His professor nodded stiffly. “Yes. The only question is the length of time it will take for him to gather his strength. The incident that gave you that scar has given us a much needed hideous to regroup and plan, but the headmaster and I have always known it was a temporary peace. What happened to Quirrell only confirmed what we already expected. It’s only a matter of time, Harry.” Snape’s eyes glistened slightly in the moonlight. “I yet have hope that we can delay it, at least for a few more years, but He gathers strength even now, searching for a way to return. He will find one. He is brilliant, and resourceful. That was how He attracted so many in the old days. It is a cruel reality that anyone associated with you will be a target once this happens. Granger, the Weasleys, they know and accept this but the Weasleys were already in the fight, and Granger would be a target regardless – being muggle born and as intelligent as she is He will seek to eliminate her on her own merits. But the Bulstrodes are not prime targets, they do not seek power or influence, they do not have great wealth or talent, and they have never taken a side. He will ignore her, unless He learns of you. So for their sakes, we must insure your visit goes unnoticed.”

Harry bit his lip and eyed his professor and the bag of potion vials. “I can stay here, where no one can see me. You can give Millie the medicine and no one needs to know I had anything to do with it. She’s scared enough now of Slytherin finding out we are friends. I don’t want to make her even more of a target if you think that Voldemort might take an interest.”

Snape snorted. “And how, exactly, was I to come into the knowledge that it was needed, Potter? Until you arrived on my doorstep I had no idea her mother was ill. I had even less idea that she had made any friends at all at Hogwarts. I’ve been doing my best to try and mitigate the worst of the bullying she faces but it is so pervasive and coming from nearly every direction…” Snape sighed. “She needs a friend, Potter, as much as her mother needs that potion. What is the point of this war if I can’t even help one of my own students with something so simple as this?” He asked the question more to himself than to Harry, yet the boy nodded.

Snape was silent for a long moment. “I believe they can be trusted – they have no reason to side with the Dark Lord or his forces. Blood purists have as little care for mixed breeds as they do for muggleborns. But that doesn’t mean we take unnecessary risks. You look generic enough in muggle clothes, and out of context it’s doubtful anyone would make a connection between you and I outside of school. Our well cultivated animosity will insure that.”

“You’re a spy, aren’t you?” Harry whispered, understanding finally filtering into him. “That’s what you are trying to tell me without actually saying it? You’ve had to be mean, so if he does come back he’ll think you’re still on his side.”

Snape sneered. “So you go and say it., and out loud. Honestly – Gryffindor’s have no more brains than a flubberworm.” The words were harsh but the tone light and Harry thought for a moment he detected a hint of satisfaction in Snape’s eyes. “The Purists think I’m one of them, Potter, in political leanings if not in actual blood. They believe my dislike for my muggle father has turned me against all muggles and that is too valuable an illusion to allow it to falter. But I have no history of animosity towards half-breeds, and Bulstrode is one of my charges. But it is best we proceed with caution.”

Apparating with Snape was considerably smoother than with Arthur Weasley. Harry barely stumbled after they arrived, the cloak Snape had insisted he wear catching on his foot and making him stagger just for a second. He didn’t know if that was because Snape was better at it than Mr. Weasley, or if it was just that it got easier every time you did it. In any case, it was a good thing since Snape had given him the satchel of potion vials and if Harry had fallen over and broken them the entire trip would have been useless.

As soon as Harry righted himself, Snape turned, cape billowing out behind him like his teaching robes often did, and Harry had no choice but to follow the professor as he wound his way through the village. Village was probably giving the place more credit than it was due. They were really more a collection of huts than true buildings. There were 8 in total that Harry saw, all low and squat with thatched roofs and barely any windows. Thick peat smoke billowed out of the stove pipes of several of them, showing they were inhabited, but otherwise the place felt deserted. Apparently, the people here retired with the sun even though the evening was still relatively young.

Snape stopped outside the farthest hut and knocked twice on the thick door. Harry waited behind him, clutching the bag to his chest, and keeping the hood well up to cover his face.

It was Millicent who opened the door and Harry could see that the room beyond was much larger than the outside structure would have allowed. Magic must have expanded the interior space but it still looked as though it was only a single room.

“Professor?” Millicent asked, her voice going up in question. “What are you doing here?”

Snape stepped to the side and she caught sight of Harry standing in the shadows. Shock and fear flittered across her face. “I….”

“Who is it, Millie?” A male voice asked from inside the small hut. When she didn’t answer right away a large man, nearly doubled over to fit into the hut, came into view. “Invite them in, girl.” He said softly when he saw who it was.

Snape and Harry stepped inside and Millicent bolted the door behind them. The hut was, as he’d suspected, much larger on the inside. The half-giant that must be his friend’s father shuffled over to the side of the hut and folded himself down into a massive chair that was set next to a small alcove. A tiny woman lay on a straw mattress inside the alcove, her face pale and her chest rising and falling with harsh shudders. Harry glanced behind them and saw a similar alcove on the other side of the hut that must have been Millie’s. The center of the hut held a firepit and a large trestle table. Two benches made up the only other seating. The half giant gestured towards them.

“Have a seat, gentleman, and tell me what we can do for you. Millie hasn’t been misbehaving at school has she?” His eyes tracked to his daughter but without a hint of anger. Harry thought he looked more resigned than anything.

“Millicent is a competent student and a credit to Slytherin House.” Snape spoke evenly before flicking his wand to levitate the benches closer. Harry sat down on one, glad to have somewhere to rest before his legs gave out on him from the nerves. Millie shuffled over to sit next to him, her eyes both accusing and fearful. “Mr. Potter here contacted me with a concern, however, and I thought it best to address the issue in person.”

“Harry?” Millicent asked, her tone angry. “What did you do?”

Harry looked towards the small woman tucked into the bed. She hadn’t even turned her head to look at her visitors, he doubted she was even conscious. “I want to help, Millie.” He turned back to her and reached for her hand. She let him take it and he squeezed it gently. “You know the professor and I don’t exactly get on.” Millie snorted. “But he’s nothing if not fawning on you lot – and he’s a potion master. Why didn’t you ask him for help?”

“We don’t want charity.” Millie insisted and looked to her father who nodded. “I won’t go begging people for things I know I can’t get.”

“You do not have to beg.” Snape cut in, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall rather than taking a seat. “Potter showed a remarkable amount of sense coming to me about this and while I’m sure you are as shocked as I am at his sudden surge of intelligence, it was motivated by a deep concern for you, Millicent. Now, Mr. Bulstrode, it has come to my attention that your wife is suffering from Hefwarts Syndrome?”

“Yes.” He answered, his eyes flickering to his wife’s bed. “Agnes is in the last stages I’m afraid.” He turned pained eyes to his daughter. “In fact, I had half a mind to owl the headmaster and see if Millie could do her lessons correspondence this coming year. I… I doubt her mother will make it till the holidays and…”

“Da!” Millie stood up and moved to hold her father as his large frame wracked with a sob. “Damn the school. Mum’s more important.”

Snape stood and moved towards the bed. “Sir, if I may?” He asked softly, lifting his wand. “I have some experience treating other cases and while I am not a healer I do have far more training than my position would normally grant. I may be able to do some good.”

The large man nodded. “I’ll pay you whatever you want if you help her – I’ll find a way.”

Snape’s expression softened. “A true healer asks no payment and while I was never inducted into that society I hold true to the oath. St. Mungos has lost its way, sir, and those of us with any shred of decency would never deny care or charge a fortune for what relief we can provide. All I ask, or will ask, is that you keep my involvement here private and tell no one of my or Potter’s visit, for the safety of your family as well as ourselves. If you have the funds to pay for the ingredients for the potion she requires, that is fine. If not, we can make arrangements. As for my time,” Snape turned to Millicent. “Your potion scores are below standard but I believe you have enough of a brain to eventually learn the necessary skills to brew the palliative. If you commit yourself to learn it, and share whatever you make with those in need, I will consider my services paid.”

Millicent’s eyes went large. “You would do that? Teach me how to make it and let me share it?”

“I hold the patent.” Snape smugly declared as he moved to take a seat on the edge of the meager mat that held the dying woman. “I can share the recipe with you as easily as I did Mungos. Those charlatans in Knockturn only make a faint replica, not the full version. I wanted to publish it so it could be brewed openly but none of the potion journals would do so for political reasons.” The last two words were snarled with clear contempt. Turning his attention back to his patient, Snape frowned and waved his wand in an intricate pattern over the tiny woman’s laboring chest. A glowing cloud of mist, dark and swirling, appeared. “This has been left to go far too long.”

“She begged me to let her go.” Mr. Bulstrode admitted, passing a shaky hand over his eyes. “We couldn’t afford Millie’s tuition and the potions any longer. She put our daughter first.”

“Da…” Millie cried out and rushed forward. “What are you saying? I…”

“It’s not too late.” Snape muttered. “I can’t reverse all the damage but if we can clear her lungs and chest cavity the potion can at least help her body to ride itself of fluids. It’s not a cure, but if she keeps taking her dosage it should prevent this level of relapse for years. But it will not be easy. Potter, get over here.”

Harry rushed forward to his professor’s side. “Sir?”

Snape turned heavy dark eyes to his student. “I need to perform a very complicated healing charm, Harry. It’s normally done with a triad.” Mr. Bulstrode’s harsh intake of breath told Harry more than Snape’s words did. “Do you know what a healing triad is?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t, sir.”

Snape nodded. “I doubted it. It’s not something we teach at Hogwarts. A triad, Harry, is a very complicated blending of magics between three individuals to create a single spell. In theory any three will do, but in practice it works best when there is a great deal of familiarly between the individuals so that their magic is in tune. If anyone is out of phase with the others it can unbalance the entire spell. It’s particularly ill advised to try with multiple species, for example, since each magical race has a slightly different phase to their magic.” His eyes flickered to the Bulstrodes. “In emergencies triad spells can be done with two, if the pair is sufficiently powerful.” Snape paused. “I often wonder if that is not why you and your Gryffindor comrades are so often successful in your escapades. I have speculated you unconsciously act as a triad when in distress. But that is for another time. For now, I need to ask you a very great favor.”

“Anything.” Harry’s eyes flickered to Millicent’s mother. Her face was grey and lined with pain. As he looked down she opened tired eyes and gazed at him with a look of such hopelessness it made his throat tight. “What do you need me to do?”

“I do not know if this will work.” Snape admitted. “There are only two of us; the spell will be quite draining. I need to borrow your magic, Harry, to make it work, if I can. Your mother…” Snape paused and cleared his throat. “Your mother and I often experimented with dual powered spells in our youth with mixed success. If you inherited a portion of her magical signature I may be able to link with you long enough to perform the spell. Merlin help me, you are certainly strong enough to hold your side – that’s never been in doubt. But how much of you is Lily Evans, and how much James Potter…” He turned dark eyes to the Bulstrodes. “But I cannot promise it will work. Even if I can link with Potter, which is a very large if, with only two we may not have the power we need despite the near vulgar levels the boy displays. He has yet to reach magical maturity and while my own power levels are not insignificant, the spell would be a challenge for most inexperienced triads.”

“We can try.” Harry nodded determinedly, putting aside the question of what Snape meant by ‘displays’. Was he really that strong? And why had no one ever said anything? “What do I need to do?”

Snape waved his wand and the bench flew over. “Sit down.” He commanded. “If I manage this, it may incapacitate you for a few hours. It won’t hurt you, but it will drain you considerably. Myself as well. It won’t register with the Ministry, however, so there is no need for concern over the underage trace. I will be channeling the magic for us both.” Harry hadn’t even thought of that but nodded anyway. “Hold out your hands.”

Snape’s hands were cold when he took Harry’s smaller ones in his, and shaking slightly. “Now close your eyes, Harry. I want you to focus inward. All magic flows from a wizard’s core like light from a single flame. It flickers and banks with each breath, drawing from you and from everything around you. I want you to picture that flame. Can you feel it, deep inside?”

Harry bit his lip and concentrated. He felt a flicker of something along his skin. “What?”

“It’s just my magic, Harry. I’m reaching out, seeking your flame with light from my own. It can’t hurt you.”

“It’s warm.” Harry admitted softly. “Like sunshine.”

Snape’s hands tightened momentarily on his. “That’s a good sign – it means you aren’t incompatible with me.” His voice sounded a little odd, strained. “Let it sink in, down towards your center. Yes, that’s it’s, Harry. Keep thinking about your flame, let it open and meet me.”

Harry imaged it, imagined a flame inside him brightening, stretching to meet the tendrils of warmth he felt flowing from Snape’s hands. Suddenly, like a magnet catching metal, the warmth from within connected with Snape’s and it was like a jolt of lightening passing through him.

“Merlin.” Her heard Millicent breath out. “Da, they actually connected.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it…” Mr. Bulstrode stated. “Look at that, Millie, they must both be almost as powerful as Dumbledore.”

Harry opened his eyes slowly to find Snape staring into his. There was a wild crackling energy around them both and Snape smiled, a real smile. “Well done, Harry. There’s quite a lot of Lily in you after all.” He released one hand but griped the other tighter. “Whatever you do, don’t let go. I have to channel the spell and I need to concentrate on that but there will be a huge backlash if you break the connection.”

“Yes sir.” Harry breathed in awe, watching as the raw magical power flickered under his skin, down into Snape’s arm. “Do I need to do anything but hold on?”

“Hope.” Snape muttered as he pointed his wand at Millicent’s mother.

There was no verbal spell, just a wash of energy, and it seemed to go on forever. Harry could feel magic flowing through him. As each wave crashed over him he could feel his flame weaken a tiny bit. The longer it went on the harder it was to keep the flow going, his natural instinct to cut it off and keep some for himself but he could literally see Snape pour both their magics into the spell that was now wrapped around the dying woman, lifting her off the bed and into the air as a mist slowly pulled itself from her skin to drip slowly out of her body. The more that dripped from her the better her color looked, the easier her breathing became, and Harry put all he had into sending more power into Snape’s work.

When the mist was nearly gone Snape’s wand wavered and with a harsh indrawn breath he dipped his arm. Agnes dropped to the bed with an undignified plop and Snape snagged back into Harry. The power drain was gone but Harry could feel their magics still swirling together and Snape opened tired eyes to Harry. “If we want to apparate out, may I?” He asked softly and Harry nodded, sending the very last of his energy into Snape. When he did he felt his own body drooping and it was Millicent that caught him as Snape finally let go and Harry’s body slumped off the bench. His last thought was how soft Millie's lips were when she pressed them gently to his with a whispered 'thank you'.

Chapter Text

When Harry regained consciousness it was daylight again.  The room he found himself in was small and neglected, the smell of dust and mildew pervasive around him.  The cot he was laying on was pushed against the wall under the window and when he sat up to look outside he was only slightly surprised to see the old mill stack outside.  Snape must have brought him back to his house, instead of to the Dursleys, and put him to bed in the spare room.  Snape’s cloak was under him, acting like a barrier between the ancient filthy mattress and him, and there was a clean if worn blanket laid over him in addition to the borrowed cloak from the night before. 

Harry found his shoes next to the bed and slowly pulled them on.  He was exhausted, but that was nothing new.  He climbed slowly out of the bed and managed to drag himself down the stairs and outside to the loo.  There was no sign of Snape, but the door to the other upstairs room was shut, so Harry assumed he was still sleeping.

The kitchen proved to have little in the way of food, but there were a few eggs and some bread in the cupboard.  Harry drew water from the well, and managed after a bit of a struggle to get the stove started in the kitchen.  A quick search located a tea pot and a good supply of strong black tea, but no sugar.  Harry put the pot on to boil and while he waited he looked for something to do.

The kitchen was spotless, but the front room had been rather dusty.  There wasn’t much he could do to thank Snape for everything, but a little light housework couldn’t possibly be a bad start. It certainly wouldn’t be enough, but Harry hoped it would at least show his good intentions.

There were plenty of cleaning rags in a bucket under the dry sink and Harry let the tea steep as he got to work. 

It was rather nice to clean something that actually needed cleaned, he thought as he gently dusted around the piles of books, careful not to move anything.  Given the small size of the room the dusting didn’t take long at all.  The tea was more than done by the time he finished and after a little bit of nervous consideration Harry risked a cup.  Snape had seemed to find the Dursley’s lack of feeding him to be a problem, and had bought Harry several cupcakes the day before, so hopefully he wouldn’t mind a cup of tea?

Harry was sweeping the floor in the sitting room when Snape came down the stairs.  At first the potion master looked confused to see him standing there, but then he blinked, made a gesture that seemed to indicate he’d deal with Harry later, and staggered out to the loo.

Harry put down the broom and quickly went into the kitchen to finish up breakfast.  By the time Snape had returned from the loo and checking his experiments in the basement, Harry had dippy eggs and soldiers laid out on the small table.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think I’d acquired a house-elf.” Snape muttered but made no complaints as he grabbed up the cup of tea.  It wasn’t until he was half way through his breakfast he realized Harry wasn’t eating.  Snape eyed the extra food on the serving platter.  “Aren’t you eating anything, Harry?”

“May I?” He asked, sliding hopefully down in the chair.  “There were only three eggs and I didn’t want to presume.”

Snape raised an eyebrow.  “Well I’m half way through the second so you take that last one, and the rest of the toast, and then we’ll see about getting you actual food before I return you to the Dursleys.  I was so involved with the potion last night I forgot to feed you. You must be starving.”

Harry shrugged as he carefully removed the top of his egg.  “You bought me two cupcakes in the afternoon, Sir, and that’s quite a lot more than I’m used to getting at the Dursleys.”

Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes slide shut at the wonderous flavor of dippy egg and warm toast, even if there wasn’t any butter. It was probably his favorite food, and Hogwarts never served anything so simple.  He’d shocked Mrs. Weasley when he’d happily eaten them at her house. 

Snape was eyeing him strangely when he opened his eyes.  Harry blushed and looked away.

A proper meal turned out to mean a trip into Muggle London, where Snape not only took Harry to an actual restaurant for something called ‘brunch’, but marched him into a department store where he unceremoniously ordered an amused saleswoman to ‘make the child presentable – full new wardrobe. His current one is offensive to civilization.’

By the time they arrived back at the Dursley’s Harry was in a state of utter shock.  At no point in his life that he could remember had anyone spent so much money on him.  He’d protested, of course, and offered to pay the professor back every cent once he got to his vault, but Snape had rolled his eyes. “If you feel you must, than fine. But it’s hardly a fortune, Potter, and it’s certainly not charity.  It’s a gift to myself so I won’t have to look at the hideousness your relatives dress you in for at least another year.”

It wasn’t until Snape had knocked loudly on the front door of the Dursley’s that Harry remembered it was Saturday.  His stomach fell.

Uncle Vernon answered the door with a large fake smile that dropped as soon as he saw Harry. “Petunia,” he bellowed, “the boy’s back.”  He moved away from the door and scowled as Snape entered the house, carrying two large shopping bags.

Snape turned to Harry and held them out. “Take these to your room, Harry, while I have a word with Petunia.” He ignored Vernon as he moved around the living room towards where his aunt was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Harry hastily did as he was told, running up the stairs to put the bags away before sneaking half way down the staircase to listen.

“I hoped you’d died.” His aunt complained with a scowl.  “Stealing my sister and making her a freak like you wasn’t enough. Now you’re going after the boy?”

Harry could almost hear Snape’s teeth grinding. “Listen to me you incomparable bitch,” Harry’s eyes widened at Snape’s language, “If I thought for one second I could kill you and not get sent to Azkaban for my trouble I’d have burst through that door with my wand in my hand and you’d have begged for mercy before Death finally found you.”  Vernon gave a mighty yell but Petunia only clutched her throat and backed as far into the wall as she could. “I see you remember what Lily told you of my <i>exploits</i>.” Even with his back turned to the stairs Harry could tell there was an evil sneer on his professor’s face. “Good.  Then you will listen to me carefully, Petunia.  That boy is to be fed three meals a day, full meals mind you, and two snacks. Three if he asks nicely.  You are to leave his things alone, including his school trunk and the new clothing I’ve purchased for him.  Once a week you will take him to the free library down the road and you will let him check out however many books he wants, as many as he can carry.  And when someone comes to take him for his school supplies you will thank them, and you will let Harry go without a single comment.  This will be the pattern for the rest of his summers here, unless I tell you otherwise.  If I find out you haven’t done these things, I will come back Petunia.  And I’ll be prepared.” There was dramatic pause.  “And if I’m prepared, I promise you no one will ever be able to trace your bodies back to me.  Understood?”

Vernon was yelling, and Dudley joined Harry on the stairs with a confused and frightened look on his face.

Petunia pulled herself up to her full height.  “Who are you to threaten us?”

Harry could have sworn the room got colder. “I’m a professor at Hogwarts, Petunia, and I swore an oath over the body of your sister that I would protect her child with my life. And I find out you are starving him?  Working him like a bloody house-elf?” There was a crash and Vernon flew backward into the sofa, going arse over teakettle and Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop a laugh. “And I’m out of patience.  The wards need you, Petunia, but they don’t need your husband or your son.  Do you want to try me further?”

His aunt shook her head frantically.  “I thought not.” Snape snapped before turning around and glaring at Vernon as he struggled to get back up. “Potter!” Snape bellowed.

Harry ran down the stairs to stand in front of his professor. “Yes sir?”

“If they touch a hair on you, or break a single one of the conditions I just laid out, use this.” He thrust a small chipped saucer into Harry’s hand. “It’s a portkey designed to take you to my home.  The password is the name of your friend.” Snape’s eyes softened slightly.  “It’s for emergencies, Harry, but do not hesitate to use it if you need to.”

Harry clutched it tightly. “Thank you, sir!”

Snape hesitated for a moment before he put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “You won’t have to stay here forever, Harry.  I know it doesn’t feel that way at your age, but you’ll be an adult soon enough and you can burn this place to the ground if you feel like it.”

The Dursley’s sputtered but Harry couldn’t help a slightly gleeful grin at the thought.  “That wouldn’t be right, Sir.”

Snape’s eyes glittered back at him.  “True.  But then, I assume you know enough ways not to get caught?”

They shared a significant look at that and then the professor whirled away and was out the door before Harry could thank him again. 

BREAK

Harry made a vow a week later that no matter how ugly Snape got in class, or in general, he would love the man for eternity. 

Life at the Dursley’s had made such a dramatic shift it was like walking through a dream.  No one talked to him, even Dudley avoided him, but his aunt handed him a plate of food, decent food, three times a day.  And there were apples and peanut butter and a package of crisps in a basket on the broken desk in his room, all purchased just for him that Dudley didn’t even try to take.  He had his trunk back, and as long as he stayed in his room no one did more than glare at his school books.  His chore list had been cut in half and he was finally able to get a little rest. 

But the best, the very best part, was the library.  He’d never been allowed to go before, and even though Petunia only accompanied him the first time, to sign for his library card, and he had to walk the two miles alone there and back, it was wonderful.  Snape had only demanded a weekly trip, but Aunt Petunia didn’t seem to care how often he’d go as long as he didn’t ask her to drive him.  Harry fell into a routine of spending the early hours of the morning on his chores before he’d cook breakfast for everyone and then pack himself a lunch.  The walk to the library was pleasant in the morning, not too hot yet, and the librarian at the small branch was much nicer than Ms. Pince.  In fact she seemed to like Harry, and when she realized he liked to read history books she ordered in copies of some popular titles from the larger branch in case he’d like to read them.

Harry had never had a lot of time to read, but with the Dursley’s leaving him alone he found that days spent at the library were much more pleasant than he’d have thought.  In fact, by the time his birthday was approaching Harry thought he’d probably miss it when he returned to school.  Not that Hogwart’s library wasn’t more impressive, but it was also not nearly as welcoming as the tiny little one room  branch, with Mrs. Giety and her flower dresses and neat as a pin desk. 

Everything was going so well that when his aunt and her horrible little dog showed up Harry was actually polite to her of his own free will.  He even volunteered to cook dinner for the family.  He should have known it was too good to last.

Harry stumbled slightly as he lugged his trunk down the street, the screams of his family behind him not nearly as upsetting as they probably should be. There was no way he was going to stick around for the Ministry to come snap his wand, especially if there was some weird new threat after him that Mr. Weasley had hinted at.  It wasn’t until he’d rounded the corner he remembered Snape’s portkey.  Did this count as an emergency, he wondered?  Harry paused to pull it out of his trunk before he sat down on the lid.  The chipped saucer matched the tea set he’d seen in the house. He’d looked up portkeys in one of his textbooks after Snape had left and the book had clearly said they were usually made of bits of trash, disposed of after a single use. This wasn’t exactly trash, and Harry had the mad desire to hold onto it whether he used it or not.  The way Snape talked his mum had probably had tea with this saucer at some point.

There was a rustle in the bushes and Harry looked up, wand at the ready, only to be greeted by a rather bedraggled looking dog.  While on the huge side, the black mutt seemed timid and Harry lowered his wand.   He’d seen the dog every now and then on his walks to the library, always from a distance.  Some of the kids in the neighborhood would taunt it but it never fought back. “What you doing out here boy?” Harry offered in a soft voice. “You running away too?”

The dog made a slight whining sound and crawled forward a few inches.  The more he came into the light the rougher he looked. Harry frowned and reached into his jacket. He had a bit of bread he’d snagged off the table during his mad dash and he held it out. The dog sniffed the air, his tongue lounging out of his mouth slightly but looked too scared to come forward. Harry tossed it gently in his direction. “I can’t stay here but you look like you need that more than I do.” Harry offered and smiled when the dog leapt forward to eat the bread in one bit.  “I’ve got to get out of here before the Ministry comes to get me. I’m pretty sure inflating my aunt is illegal.”

The dog’s head snapped up to look at him as if the dog understood what he’d just said.  “Well she deserved it!” Harry huffed angrily, standing up to grab the handle of his trunk. He started tugging it down the sidewalk again and the dog, surprisingly, followed him. “She called my parents drunks.  They weren’t drunks!  Even Snape admitted that and he hated my dad.” Harry missed the stumble in the dog’s steps at the professor’s name.  “Now what the hell am I going to do?  If I stay here they’ll snap my wand and expel me.  I’ve got who knows how many evil wizards out to kill me for no bloody good reason.  Mr. Weasley gave me some cryptic warning about some prison escape…” Harry grumbled as he labored to pull the trunk. “If Hedwig were here I could owl Mr. Weasley and he’d come, I think.” Harry looked at the saucer that he was still holding in his free hand. “I suppose I could go to Snape.”

The dog inched forward and Harry looked down in surprise as it butted his hand. “You think I should?” Harry looked between the dog and the saucer. “Do you want to come with me?  I don’t know if he likes dogs.  He doesn’t really like me, if I’m honest.  If I knew how to get to Millie’s...”

There was a whirling and pitching, and Harry yelped slightly when he felt the dog bite into his leg.  When the wild movement stopped Harry didn’t even manage to see where he was before he was throwing up.

“What the bloody…” Snape’s angry voice only made the situation worse as Harry heaved for another long moment before he managed to look up. 

He was in the middle of Snape’s kitchen, the disheveled dog growling slightly where it was crouching next to him, one paw sitting on the bite he’d left as if in apology. Snape stood in the doorway, a shocked look on his face, his faded dressing gown clashing terribly with a set of the most hideously gaudy socks Harry had ever seen.

Snape dropped his mug of coffee and was instantly on the floor in front of Harry, ignoring his sick up, his wand casting diagnostic spells so fast Harry couldn’t even hear the incantations. “What’s happened? What did those muggles do to you?”

“I’m sorry.” Harry managed faintly.  “I didn’t mean to do it.”  He looked down, his hand going to touch the dog for the first time, hoping the soft fur would calm him. It was matted and filthy but it gave his fingers something to do and the dog quieted at the first touch.  “She was just going on and on about mum and I couldn’t…”

Snape’s expression eased slightly. “What’s happened?”

“I couldn’t let them snap my wand!” Harry finally burst out, clutching the dog now with both hands, his trunk and the saucer forgotten.  “I didn’t even mean to come here, what if they look for me here?”

“No one in their right mind is going to look for you here, Potter. It’s probably the most unlikely place in all of the United Kingdom for you to be.” Snape stood up and with a wave of his wand cleaned up the evidence of Harry’s post port-key sick up.  “Now, start at the beginning.” Snape’s eyes traveled slowly over the dog. “And wherever did you find that disgusting creature?”

Harry haltingly told of his evening, making sure to include every one of Aunt Marge’s insults towards his mother hoping if nothing else Snape would at least get why Harry was angry.  The dog, probably sensing his mood, seemed to take equal offense as the story progressed, his too thin body tensing at each crucial moment.

“And then, this dog was there and I was half talking to it, and to myself, and said I wish I knew how to get to Millie’s…”  Harry finally realized what he’d done and sagged. “And I said the password on accident.”

“This actually does quality as an emergency you know.’ Snape sighed. “And the dog was touching you when you did it, which would explain how you brought him with you, and your trunk.”

Harry shifted slightly to look at his leg.  He’d felt the dog’s teeth but as he looked down he realized the dog hadn’t actually broken the skin.  There was only the slightest impression of teeth. “Yeah, he, he must have spoked when the portkey went off.” Harry petted him a little as the dog whined.  “I gave him a piece of bread. I think he’s as desperate as I am.”

“You are hardly desperate.” Snape sighed. “I’ll message the headmaster and let him know what has occurred. Explaining how I ended up with you will no doubt cause some angst.” Snape rubbed tiredly at his face. “Accidental magic, Harry, is not something the Ministry will prosecute you for.  You literally couldn’t help it. But clearly it would be in your best interests not to return there this summer.  The Weasley’s are back from their trip abroad, perhaps he will let you stay with them as you did last summer.”

Speaking before he could think better of it, Harry rushed forward. “Could I stay here?”  He swallowed at the astonished look on his professor’s face. “Please? I mean, the Weasleys are great, don’t get me wrong, but… but if there is some new threat I don’t want to put them at risk. And you said it yourself, this is the least likely place anyone would ever look for me.  I don’t take up much space.”

“That dog takes up more space than you, those muggles clearly never fed you properly.” Snape groused.  “I don’t even have plumbing in this rat hole, Potter. You can’t possibly want to stay here.   I don’t want stay here!” 

“I’ll cook.” Harry offered, “and clean! I’ll even pay you rent.  Just please, don’t make me go back to the Dursley’s.”

“If it were up to me you’d never set foot in that house again unless it was to hex your aunt and burn it to the ground.” Snape sat down heavily at the table. “You can’t really prefer to stay here rather than with your friends?”

Harry took a shaky breath. “Ron can’t tell me about my mum.” Harry finally admitted, his eyes trying and failing to make contact with his professor, instead shifting to look out the darkened window. 

Snape made an uncomfortable sound. “Are you that desperate for more stories of her?”

“I only have the pictures Hagrid gave me. And the book you found.”

Snape shifted slightly in his seat. “We neglected to put that into Gringotts before I returned you to the Dursley’s.  I intended to return it to you at the school.”

“It’s okay.” Harry smiled slightly. “I knew you’d take care of it for me.”

Snape looked like he’d eaten a lemon. “If you are determined to remain here,” He shook his head. “I cannot believe I’m offering this.  I have enough of children during the school year.”  His eyes flickered to the dog. “If you insist on keeping that mutt in this house, you will be responsible for him. He chews one book and I’ll turn him into potion ingredients.”

Harry scrunched his forehead. “There’s a potion that uses dog parts?”

“No but I’ll invent one.” Snape muttered, standing up.  “I’ll message Albus, and then,” He glared down at the dog. “We’ll find a way to clean that thing up. It smells like it was swimming in the river.” 

BREAK

The headmaster actually showed up after Snape sent whatever message. Harry stayed in the kitchen, but he could hear them arguing in the front room.

“Severus, this is utterly reckless of you.  You know the boy is better protected with his family…”

Snape interrupted with a huff.  “By protected you mean half starved, worked like a bloody house-elf, deprived of basic necessities, and bullied by a human troll.  The boy would be little better off if he was a house-elf to Malfoys.  I’m surprised they haven’t made him iron his hands – probably just because Tunny didn’t think of it yet.”

“Severus, this is not a joking mater.”

“Who said I was joking?  Did you ever even set foot in that house? Did you ever check on him?  My god Albus, the boy was scared to eat an egg!  A bloody egg!”

“You are in no position to take care of the boy, even for the few weeks left in summer.” The headmaster protested, sounding tired.  “I suppose the Burrow would be a good alternative.”

“He asked to stay here.” Snape’s voice softened. “Albus, I can’t turn him away.  He’s Lily’s boy.  I’ve stayed away all this time, done just as we’d planed, but I won’t turn him out when he’s seeking Sanctuary.” There was a weighted pause. “If I’d had a place to run to at his age, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“So now you are comparing him to yourself instead of James?”

“Hardly.  But once you get a close look at him the signs of abuse are clear.  If he’d been sorted into my house I would have known immediately. But we were set up to be enemies from our first encounter and he never dropped his guard till now.  He’s incredibly adapt at hiding it from people that don’t know him well, a survival tactic.”  The sofa creaked as Snape moved.  “the blood protections have been recharged, Albus. There’s no reason for him to stay with the Dursleys again till next year. If he wants to stay here I can’t think of a place less likely for Black to come looking for him.  And while my home isn’t exactly a palace, it’s slightly better than the Shrieking Shack.  He’ll be fine.”

The dog slide closer to Harry and nudged his hand. Harry reached down to pet him, ears still trained on the conversation in the other room.

“Just because you feel guilty for what happened with Lily does not mean you should feel obligated to care for the boy.  What about your research?”

“Oh don’t go trying to distract me. You don’t care one whit for my research, and if I can manage to find time in the middle of the school while taking care of a hundred needy Slytherins I’m sure one boy won’t pose that large of an obstacle.  And I am guilty for what happened and we both know it.  It doesn’t matter that I gave what was left of my soul to you to try and stop it, we failed.  He targeted the Potters because of me and despite all of our efforts they died.  I will never get the sight of her, dead on the floor of that nursery, out of my head for as long as I live.  I swore I’d protect him, and I’ve done everything I could since to make sure that when that bastard returns I’m in a position to undermine His plans.  But what good is all that if Harry is too broken to live a normal life? What is the point of all this, Albus, if we can’t even protect him from muggles?”

“So it’s Harry now?”

“It’s always been Harry.” Snape’s voice was so soft Harry had to strain to hear it.  “I only ever called him Potter because it was easier to hurl insults at a Potter.”  Snape paused. “Harry was Lily’s grandfather’s name you know.  He died in the Great War, somewhere in France.”

The headmaster cleared his throat. “No, I did not know that.”

“Lily’s mom wanted to name a son after the father she never knew.  But they only had Lily and Petunia.  Lily was named after her aunt instead, her mother’s twin sister. She died from polio when the girls were just seven, and Petunia was named after their father’s mother who had passed away from the Spanish Flu.  Lily’s parents wanted a whole gaggle of children- to make up for so much loss on both their sides, but after Lily the doctors told them it was too risky to try again.  Mrs. Evans almost died twice during the labor.  Sometimes I think the boy was cursed from both sides of his family tree.”

“Severus,” the headmaster tried to interrupt but Snape kept going.

“You shouldn’t have sold their house you know, the one here.  Lily wanted to keep it.  Harry should have had some of his grandparents things.  They were all gone to auction by the time I found out what you’d done.  Sadly this hovel is the closest he can ever get to knowing his mother or her parents.  Petunia Dursley certainly never…”

Albus cut him off.  “It could compromise everything if someone learns he’s here.  Is that a risk you really want to take?  Just so you can tell him sad stories about people long dead?” the headmaster asked finally, in a tired voice.

Snape’s reply was so soft Harry and the dog had to strain to hear it. “Albus, I vowed I’d protect the boy. I never specified how or from what.  With Black free, and the Dark Lord regaining strength, there’s no place safe for him.  Those muggles are abusive and you know it. After what’s just happened I doubt he will ever be taken back by them – if you were foul enough to try and send him back there. And sad stories of the dead are all he can have, and I won’t deny him that meager consideration.”

“I already spoke to the Dursleys and they’ve agreed to take him back next summer.  After I reminded them the protection from Lily’s sacrifice only holds for them as well as for Harry if he returns there for a time each year.  Even Petunia Dursley seems to understand the importance of the blood wards.”  The headmaster gave a great sigh.  “I don’t like this, Severus.  While I’m delighted that you and Harry have reached a truce, it will make your role harder if you should ever have to return to it.”

“We will deal with that eventuality when it happens.” Snape paused. “You didn’t see him, Albus.  He was so frightened, and angry.  His eyes…  I couldn’t say no.”

The talking continued, in more muted tones, and Harry leaned back against the dog. “You know, boy, I think this might be okay.  What do you think?”

The dog blinked at him, looking impossibly confused. “yeah me too.” Harry muttered, burying his face in the filthy flank despite the smell. 

Chapter Text

 “Harry?”  a warm hand settled on his shoulder and Harry jerked awake. Snape was kneeling next to him, a concerned look on his face. “How can you sleep with your face in that muck?” He asked, his tone lacking bite but still with the sarcastic bend to it Harry knew well from class.

Harry shrugged and sat up, righting his glasses. The dog seemed to smirk at him. “He makes a good pillow.”

“It’s gone midnight but there’s no possible way I’m letting you sleep on my kitchen floor with a filthy mutt for a pillow.” Snape pulled his wand and waved it at the dog.  Whatever cleaning spell he used took away the smell but left the poor thing looking even more bedraggled. “Well that’s apparently going to take a little more effort.” Snape sighed and pointed to the yard. “Harry, there’s a large tub leaning against the house. Can you bring it in here, while I get the soap?”

Harry nodded and ran to get the tub.  He pulled it into the center of the kitchen while Snape trudged down into his laboratory to get whatever cleaner he thought the job warranted. The dog looked at the tub and at Harry wearingly but never the less seemed to get that whatever was going on it was for his benefit.

Snape returned and filled the tub with a wave of his wand, the water streaming in the open door from the pump.  “No one awake to see us work.” He stated with a little hint of a smirk when Harry’s eyes flickered towards the windows of the one other row house still occupied.  The water in the tub started steaming as Snape heated it before adding a small scoop of some kind of powder that started the entire thing to bubbling.

The dog gave a happy yip and jumped straight into the bath, splashing water all over the kitchen floor.  To Harry’s shock Snape laughed. “Well now,” Snape smiled slightly as he leaned over to scrub some of the soap bubbles into the head of the dog.  The dog froze at the contact before, with a whimper, it pushed his head into the potion’s master’s hand.  “He’s a little timid but he’s obviously been around people.” Snape scrubbed him behind the ears and the dog’s leg started to thump. “That’s a good boy, aren’t you?” Snape actually cooed at the dog.

Harry watched with wide eyes for a moment before he jumped in to help. “I never took you for a dog person.”

Snape snorted. “You hardly know me, Potter.  I happen to like animals, far more than I like people if truth be told.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I understand that.  Hedwig used to be the only thing I could really talk to.” Harry paused in his scrubbing. “Do you think she can find me? She was delivering a letter when everything happened.”

“I’m sure your owl will find you without a problem, Harry.” Snape smiled slightly.  “Merlin this animal is covered in dirt.”  His smile dropped off slightly as he took in the true state of the creature. “He’s half-starved and covered in sores.” Snape sat back and eyed him thoughtfully. “He’s clearly some sort of hybrid animal, he seems too smart for a muggle dog but I do not know of any magical canine creature that can interbreed.”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe Hagrid would know?”

“Well assuming we can nurse this beast back to health you’ll have to ask when we return to Hogwarts.  The headmaster won’t let students have pets this size in the school proper, but something tells me Hagrid will probably leap at the chance to care for him for you.”

Harry looked at the tender way Snape was handling the dog, who clearly didn’t seem too terribly fond of the potion master given the way he was looking towards Harry as if to say ‘why can’t you be the one doing this?’.  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep him, sir?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Clearly he has already bonded with you.” Snape said without the usual bitterness such a  statement would have warranted from the man.  “But if he warms up to me I would not be adverse.  My quarters are large enough and there is president for professors having larger pets.”  The big dog’s tail started to wag slightly at that. “If I didn’t know better I’d say he understood us.”

“Who’s a smart puppy?” Harry asked in a high voice and giggled slightly when the dog gave a happy yip.

Snape shook his head.  “Clearly I’m suffering a head injury of some kind.” He stood up and brandished his wand.  The dirty water from the tub zoomed out of the room into the drain in the yard, causing the dog to bark and hop in astonishment before a fresh stream of hot water flew in to dump on the dog’s head.  This repeated three times, much to the displeasure of the dog, before Snape pronounced him rinsed.  Another wave of the wand and the wet floor was clean and the dog mostly dried.

Snape and Harry looked at the poor thing. “He looks really sick.” Harry said sadly.  “You can see every rib.”

“I think it’s mostly from lack of food.” Snape shook his head. “I’ll brew a nutrient potion in the morning. For now, there’s some rice in the cabinet.  Let’s make him a plate of that and we’ll see about proper dog food later.  There was disinfectant and a mild healing potion in the soap, the sores should heal overnight.  I can brew a dewormer if we need it.”

Harry set water to boil for the rice while Snape disappeared upstairs.  The dog, now clean and dry for the first time in who knew how long, blinked sleepily up at him from the floor next to the stove. “Do you like the heat? It’s not cold out.”  Harry asked but of course the dog only blinked at him wearily. 

Snape returned just as the rice came off the stove. Harry dished out a little for himself and the professor but put the majority of it into the old cauldron Snape set on the ground.  A matching one was filled with water and the poor mutt ate so fast Harry and Snape thought he fairly inhaled it.

“Should I make more?” Harry asked, watching as the dog scooted the cauldron cross the floor looking for every last grain. 

“No we don’t want to make him sick. You have to be careful with starvation cases.” Snape advised.  “Come on. I cast a few cleaning spells on my old room. It will have to do until we can get you proper things.”

Harry followed him up to the musty room he’d slept in on his previous visit. It was much cleaner, now that Snape wasn’t so exhausted from healing spells, but it still felt sad and unloved.  Snape shuffled slightly in the doorway, almost as if embarrassed. “I never was allowed to decorate as a child.  Since I returned as an adult I’ve barely stepped in the room.”

Harry shrugged. “Not much different than my room at the Dursley’s. Only no Dursleys.” Harry grinned. “Love it.”

Snape rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Be that as it may, Harry, it’s hardly a cheerful room for a teenager.  Feel free to hang up whatever horrible posters or whatnot you care to.  In fact, tomorrow, we can even charm the walls something other than dirty yellow.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” Harry advised softly.  “Thank you for this, Professor.”

Snape looked up and sighed. “Given the number of nights I slept on your grandparent’s couch to escape my father I can hardly deny you somewhere to go, Harry.  It’s basic hospitality.” Snape motioned towards the chest at the foot of the bed. “There should be some old blankets in there the dog can use as a bed.  He’s too huge to be allowed on the furniture.”

The dog, headless of either of them and clearly not expecting any padding, was already curled up in the corner on the hard floor. 

“We’ll be fine.” Harry advised, taking notice that his own trunk was now resting against the wall.  “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight Harry.”

Harry woke just before sunrise and was happy to see that while still pathetically stocked, there was at least a better selection for breakfast than the last time.  It was going on 10 by the time Snape stumbled bleary eyed through the kitchen towards the outdoor loo.  Harry shook his head, an exasperated fondness starting to settle over him, as he cracked two eggs and set the bread in the toaster rack on the stove.  By the time Snape came back inside, Harry had a hot breakfast waiting for him. Snape collapsed into his chair, his hand shooting out for the cup of strong black tea waiting for him.  He sneered slightly when he realized Harry didn’t have any food in front of himself and nodded meaningfully towards the frying pan. 

Harry turned to the dog, who was happily eating an egg on toast from the cauldron on the floor. “Forgive him, Scruffy.  He’s not a morning person.”  Never the less he retrieved the remaining egg from the pan and made himself a sandwich.

Snape scowled. “You named the dog scruffy?”

Harry swallowed.  “It’s a work in progress.  Nothing seems to fit so I keep tossing things out there.” He shrugged “I figure at some point he’ll perk up and whatever it is will stick.”

Snape snorted. “I’m surprised you don’t just name him something horrid and standard like Fido.”

“I tried Blackie but I swear he laughed at me.” Harry took the now empty plates to the sink and then retrieved a pan of hot water from the stove.  He started to prep to wash the dishes when Snape came up behind and plucked the dish cloth from his hand.

“You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.” Snape scowled and with a wave of his wand all the dishes cleaned themselves and flew into the cabinets.  “In fact, the entire house is unplottable by the Ministry. You can use your wand, so long as you aren’t foolish about it.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You’ll let me do magic outside of school?”

“All the pureblood students do. You might as well.” Snape shrugged. “I hated that my mother was a witch and I couldn’t lift my wand without a damn ministry owl landing on the window.  I won’t have you suffer the same indignation watching your pureblood friends come back with all sorts of new skills.”

“The Weasleys don’t let their kids do magic.” Harry scrunched his nose as he thought back. “But it would explain Malfoy.”

“Draco Malfoy has a contingent of private tutors every summer to try and beat Ms. Granger’s scores.” Snape looked oddly gleeful as he said it. “Little good it does him.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Careful, sir, it will sound like you want Hermione to beat out your favorite Slytherin student.”

Snape smirked. “What if I do?  It’s my secret pleasure in life, Potter, to watch that muggleborn witch do spell after spell better than Draco, on her first try, and him after months of tutors.  It’s like watching karma evolve before my eyes.”

“I thought he was like, your godson or something?” Harry asked, curious, as he followed the man into the front room.

Snape paused before he pulled a slim book off of one of the upper shelves.  “He is.  And I would do a great deal to aid that boy.  It does him good to have Ms. Granger best him.  His parents have done him no favors by catering to his every whim and excusing his every action.  The real world will not be as kind to him and he fails to listen to me anymore.  Of course, if you repeat any of this I will hex you to within in an inch of your life and deny every word.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Harry sat down on the couch and eyed the bookshelves with interest.  “Hermione would be going crazy if she saw this library.  She’s half mad every summer cut off from her supply at Hogwarts.  Her parents take her Diagon two or three times during the summer but she goes through things so quickly.”

Snape handed him the small book and took up the chair.  “If the world was different I would encourage you to invite her here. As it is, we will be giving everyone a false story of the headmaster moving you to a safe house for the summer.  The Ministry has already taken care of obliviating your aunt and the neighbors.  No one will question it, given Black’s escape from Azkaban.  I’m sure Weasley and Granger will press you for details.”

“I won’t tell them I was with you.” Harry promised, flipping through the book.  “I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Only just.” Snape ground out and Harry had to look up to see the hint of a smile in his eyes to know he was joking.  “That book is a basic primer on magical law.  I suggest you read it.  Given your penchant for finding trouble it would be best if you understood your rights, should you ever find yourself facing a Ministry hearing.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks.” He looked around the room and then at his professor. “Do you want me to go outside or upstairs, to get out of your way?”

Snape blinked at him. “You aren’t in the way. The dog is blocking the door, granted, but he seems sensible enough to move before I step on him. Why the devil should you go away?”

“The Dursley’s don’t like to see me or hear me.” Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know what you expect of me.”

“Don’t burn the place down.” Snape stood up, clearly a little distressed.  “I’m not going to make it my mission to amuse you, but you are welcome to read anything you find in here. Stay out of my bedroom, and don’t enter my lab unless you are accompanying me.” He turned to leave the room, stepping over the dog that growled slightly at him when he did so.  “I was thinking we could,” Snape paused a moment and then shook himself. “We’ll go to the city tonight and see about getting some proper furniture for that room. Even if you are only going to be here for a few weeks you should have some bed linens that are newer than your birth certificate.  Think about what color you’d like on the walls, and for the bedding.  I won’t want to spend forever in the store debating.  I’m going to step out to the store for a few essentials food wise. Is there anything you’d like?”

The dog made a weird sniffle/snort at that. Harry grinned. “Something for snuffles here.”

The dog’s head perked up and his tongue lagged out.  Snape shook his head. “Yes, food for the beast is a must, before he decides to eat us.  But anything you would like?  Beyond eggs of course.”

“Ahhh….” Harry didn’t know what to say. He’d never been asked that question.  “What do you normally get?”

“Minimal, as you have seen.” Snape leaned back against the doorframe.  “I don’t enjoy cooking.  I tend to pop over to the local for food now and then, if I desire something robust.  There’s usually some bread.  I have a cupboard with a cold status charm but frankly I never use it.”

“Oh, well I can cook.  I’m fairly good at it actually.” Harry perked up some.  “Aunt Petunia likes me to do a roast on Sundays, but that’s easy.  I’m pretty good with chicken and pork too.  Lamb is tricky, but I finally got the timing right on it, although with your stove it might be a bit difficult.  I can bake too. If you get some flour and sugar, eggs, butter, milk, that sort I can do just about anything. You have salt, so that’s covered, garlic, potatoes and onions maybe? Whatever meat looks promising.  I’ll work with whatever you decide on.  Some sort of veg, of course…”

Snape’s eyes widened slightly. “Dear Merlin you are a house-elf.”

Harry blushed slightly. “I like to keep busy.”

“If you enjoy it, by all means you are welcome to take possession of the kitchen.  But you are under no obligation.   I won’t have you slaving away out of some false sense of indebtedness.  You owe me nothing, Harry.  You owe no one anything.”

Harry shrugged and looked down, his fingers tangling in the dog’s coat.  Snape sighed.  “Alright, I’ll order up a pantry full of whatever the clerk thinks normal people stock.  Merlin knows this house won’t have ever seen it since my mother passed, but it will at least give you something to do putting it all away.  And old Franklin will be amused by it.  He’s always harping on me to eat something other than tea and eggs.”  Snape turned and waved his wand changing his robes into muggle style trousers and shirt.  “I won’t be gone long.  The wards will keep everyone but the headmaster and I out, but I haven’t added you yet, or the dog, so stay inside the house or the courtyard out back.  If you exit you won’t be able to get back in.”

“Thank you.” Harry supplied softly. “You don’t really need to go to extra trouble.”

Snape didn’t turn around, but his voice sounded slightly hollow and his back stiffened. “To my everlasting shock, you are not trouble, Harry.  In fact, you are shockingly un-irksome.” With that, Snape opened the door and stepped out.

Harry sat for a moment, his hand still tangled in the fur of the dog, before he sighed and stood up, setting the slim book down on the sofa.  “Well, Snuffles it is then since you didn’t bulk at it.” The dog looked startled for a second before it settled its head down on its paws and whined slightly. “Too late.” Harry advised him with a smirk.  “You let your stomach talk and now you’ll have to live with it. I’m tired of guessing.  But in the meantime, Snape’s gone.  Which means we can snoop.” 

That got the dog’s attention. His head shot up and he leaped to his feet, his nose to the floor as he started to sniff around.  Harry chuckled. “I don’t think he’d even mind but honestly I can’t not.” Harry started in the corner scanning book titles.  “The house is so tiny, Snuffles. I can’t imagine what it was like for him growing up here.  No wonder he’s so…. Snape.  I mean you smell that awful river every time you step outside.  It wasn’t that much better where mum grew up, but at least the view was a little nicer.”  Snuffles paused in his sniffing to look towards Harry with a quizzical expression on his doggy face. “Snape took me there when Mr. Weasley brought me to visit last month.” Harry supplied with a shrug.  “It’s a cupcake shop now.  They did a decent dreamsicle flavor but I think their icing is too sweet. It distracted from the cake. But then I haven’t a big sweet tooth.  I’m sure Ron would have loved it.” Harry turned back to the bookshelf.  “It’s nice having someone to talk too, Snuffles. I talk to Hedwig of course, but she isn’t always here.  She’s a good owl, and likes to be working.  Sometimes I write letters to Hermione and Ron just to give Hedwig something to do.” 

Snuffles finished sniffing out the room and pawed at the door to the upstairs. Harry nudged it open and the dog ran up.  Harry put down the book he’d been flipping through and followed him. Snape’s bedroom door was open, and Snuffles ran in and proceeded to sniff around. Harry waited on the tiny landing.  “I’m not going in there. He asked me not to.  But let me know if you sniff anything interesting.” 

The dog snorted, and seemed to double his sniffing efforts but eventually after he’d sniffed everything three times, including crawling under the bed, he reluctantly came back out onto the landing and padded down the stairs.  “Not sure what you expected to find.” Harry shook his head.  “He’s got less in there than I have in my trunk.  I think all he owns are books and potion supplies, and a few sets of robes.”

There were only four rooms in the house, and since one was apparently now Harry’s, and empty except for the cot and his trunk, that just left the book shelves in the sitting room he’d been scanning.  Snuffles turned around three times on the thread bare rug and laid down while Harry started to read the titles out loud. He was only about half way through when Snape returned, two very large shopping bags in his arms. Harry rushed forward to take one.

“Franklin is sending his boy around with the rest later.” Snape advised, shuffling into the kitchen with his purchases.  “But there’s enough here for us to have a decent lunch.  He sent over two sandwiches done up as well; he’s a thoughtful man.”  Snape pulled them out and set them on the table before he reached into the bag in Harry’s arms and pulled out a bag of dog food. “He’s sending a bigger bag over later, but for now I thought this might be sufficient.” He poured the food into the cauldron on the floor and Snuffles went over to sniff it.  The dog eyed it sideways before he stuck his head in and ate every crumb. 

“Franklin said he wanted to meet you at some point.” Snape continued, helping to unload the two bags and pointed out which cupboard was charmed to stay cold so Harry could put the milk away.  “When I told him Lily’s boy was staying with me he insisted.  He always liked your mum.  He and his wife Else used to play cards with your grandparents once a week.”

“Really?” Harry asked, a little shocked. He never thought about there being people that would know his family in the muggle world. Which was stupid – he knew his mother was muggleborn. 

“This isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, Harry.  Nearly everyone here worked in the mill, or supported the people that did.  Everyone in the neighborhood knows everyone else. Your grandparents were shop keepers, they had relationships with all the other small shops in town.  Franklin’s store was where everyone shopped, still shops.  He’s quite old now, his grandson is planning on taking it over, but you can’t get Franklin to leave his register.” Snape seemed oddly pleased by this.  “Now sit down and eat your sandwich.  Would you like tea or milk with it?”

“Milk would be lovely.” Harry replied, sliding into the chair half under the stair. They ate their lunch without conversation and when they finished Snape transfigured his clothes back into robes and then hesitated, his hand on the door.

“I need to work for a while in the lab. Will you be alright up here?”

“Sure.” Harry replied with a shrug. “I was only half way through reading the titles on your bookshelves.”

Snape snorted.  “I haven’t child proofed those. If something bites you scream.”

Harry laughed knowing he was only half joking. “I’ll be sure to stomp a few times too.”

That got a smile out of the dour man. “If you need me you know how to get to the lab.”

Chapter Text

The afternoon passed pleasantly, interrupted by a few trips outside for Snuffles, and the arrival of the rest of the groceries, but on the whole it was really nice to just relax somewhere he felt safe. Harry considered tiding up more, but given Snape’s insistently calling him a house-elf, he thought better of it.  Still, a new layer of dust had settled in the sitting room since he’d hastily cleaned it the last time, and he never did get the base boards, and there were some smudges on the wall… 

Dear lord he was a bloody house-elf.

With that awful self-realization, Harry sighed and put down his book and went into the kitchen, Snuffles getting up to follow him.  “What do you think for dinner?” Harry asked, opening the cold cupboard and eyeing the packages from the butcher. “We have some sausages I see, or maybe a simple pie? I don’t know what he likes.” The dog snorted. “Right, he says he never cooks, so anything is probably better than tea and bread.  There’s a chicken but I think I’ll do that tomorrow, with a proper spread.” Harry pulled out the sausages and got to work making a potato and carrot bake to go with them.

 The little oven in the stove wasn’t large enough for him to do a dessert with the potatoes cooking,  but Harry figured if he made a fruit pie it could bake while they ate.  There were some lovely berries and a few apples that would do nicely along with a handful of rhubarb.  Harry hummed a little to himself as he started on the crust, using a fork to mix since he couldn’t find a proper pastry blender. He was just rolling out the crust when Snape returned from the lab.

The wizard stopped in the doorway, surprise on his face. “You are making a pie.”

“There’s a potato and carrot casserole in the oven right now.  I was going to fry the sausages.” Harry supplied, smiling as he turned the roller to spread the crust evenly.  “I was going to make berry pie with the rhubarb but if you want something sweeter I can make plain apple or just leave out the rhubarb.”

“I…” Snape shook his head. “rhubarb is a particular favorite, Harry. Thank you.”  He finally entered and closed the door behind him. “You have flour on your nose.”

Harry reached up and rubbed his nose. “Oh, thanks.”

Snape smirked. “You just got more flour on your nose.”  He chuckled slightly.  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, ah, no?” Harry flushed. He wasn’t used to anyone asking that.  “The casserole needs about an hour I think. I was going to put the pie in while we eat dinner.”

Snape nodded. “I messaged Arthur earlier and asked him to come round.  With you here it’s about time I did something about the state of the place, and he knows far more about building charms than I do.  Is there enough to invite him for dinner?”

“Yes.” Harry smiled happily.  “I can pull that little stool in from the sitting room, or we can set the table up in there, once I clean the flour off it?”

“I’ll get the stool. It used to be in here anyway.” Snape moved off to find the stool and Harry finished the pie, setting it on the drain board to wait it’s turn. He was just starting the sausages when there was a knock on the door. 

Arthur Weasley looked mildly surprised when he came into the kitchen. “Have you been missing Molly, Harry?” he asked, watching as Harry quickly washed down the table.

“I like to cook.” Harry supplied with a shrug. “Ron didn’t let me alone long enough to help when I visited or I’d have likely spent the entire time with Mrs. Weasley.”

“Well if the smells in here are anything to go by you’d give her a run for her money.” Arthur smiled and sat down.  “Severus is trying to decide where he wants the bathroom.  By the time we are done remodeling I’m sure we’ll need every crumb.  Building spells take a lot out of a person.”

“Can I watch?”

“You can help.” Snape supplied, walking into the kitchen.  He eyed the room, which seemed even smaller with three people and a dog in it. “Why don’t we start in here?  This place could use a few more feet at least, and we’ll want to run plumbing to the sink.”

Harry watched, fascinated, as Mr. Weasley explained that magic plumbing didn’t require laying pipes to a sewer like muggle plumbing, but worked with a cistern and a waste line with a magical “trap” at the end that simply banished the dirty water.  “We can put the clean water cistern in the basement in the corner of the lab if that works for you,” Mr. Weasley advised, “and charm it to refill from the pump easily enough.  The waste trap is a bit harder.  Normally you’d want that as far from the clean water as possible just in case the charms failed.  But, excuse me for saying this Severus, the house is not very large. Even with expansion charms we won’t get that much space out of it.”

The potion master made a dismissive sound. “Let’s put the cistern out in the courtyard. We can lift the tiles out there. There was an old one already – muggle – that failed when I was a boy. They just filled it in with rubble. We can probably repurpose the space.  That way we can put the trap in the lab.” 

Harry turned the sausages and moved them off the direct heat and followed them outside.  There was lots of wand waving to set up wards so the muggles couldn’t see what they were doing, a little rough language as they argued about what to do first, but about fifteen minutes later a solid little cistern was under the flagstones and the two wizards covered it back up.  Mr. Weasley then turned to look at the house.

“I suggest we bring the entire back out about say 10 feet?  That way we can get the cellar steps inside.” He suggested. 

Snape nodded. “That would be coinvent. We’ll have to put charms on it so the muggles don’t notice.”

“You said the two houses next door were empty?” Arthur eyed them with a gleam in his eye.

“Actually I bought them. I had a mind to combine the properties but I haven’t had a chance.” Snape gave a disgruntled sigh. “My idea was, if I combined three single room wide houses I might actually have what could pass for a decent home.”

“Well no time like the present.” Arthur rolled up his sleeves. 

“I need to check on dinner.” Harry advised, eyeing the two with  slight concern.  “Is it safe to be in there while you do whatever it is you’re planning?”

“Oh certainly.” Arthur waved him off. “We’ll need a third wand for the dangerous bit.”

Snuffles seemed to share the concern as they both slipped back inside.  He was just dishing up the dinner and slipping the pie into the oven with both men came inside.  “We need you, Harry, if you are wiling.” Arthur supplied slipping into his seat.  “Severus says you can do duel powered spells?”

“Yes.” Harry stroked the dog’s head when it bumped into the bottom of the table.  “We did a healing spell on Millie’s mum.”

“That’s incredible.” Mr. Weasley leaned forward and patted his shoulder.  “Severus said it should have been a triad.  Well, I don’t know if we can make a triad, but if you two could do a healing triad as a pair then the house expansion should be easy for you if we can’t.  Now, I should warn you, these expansion spells aren’t exactly perfect.”

“That would be why the Burrow looks like it’s cobbled together out of four other houses. It was.” Snape advised, pulling out the stool and leaving the second chair to Harry.  “This will result in a very similar aesthetic, but in brick.  Hopefully a little more regular since the houses here are all identical.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Harry asked.

Snape smiled softly. “I’ve wanted too for some time, it’s why I purchased the other houses when they came up for sale.  But I didn’t want to impose on Arthur for help and I wasn’t sure how to do it myself.  Expanding the lab was as much as I dared.  This is an excellent excuse.”

Both men seemed to enjoy the meal, and thanked him repeatedly. When they finished Harry checked the pie, and thought it needed a few minutes.  “Let’s go out back then and finish the expansion.” Arthur advised.  “We drew the runes we needed before we came in. So now we just have to power it.”

The three moved outside, Snuffles following them, and once they were gathered in the courtyard Arthur directed them to stand next to each other.  “Now Harry,” he began.  “There’s an incantation but Severus said the last time you did this sort of thing he just directed the magic for both of you. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Sure.” Harry shrugged. “Will I pass out again? I don’t want to burn the pie.”

Snape snorted. “Of course your main concern is dessert instead of magical exhaustion. No, Potter, you won’t be using enough energy for that.  If Arthur and I were to attempt this by ourselves yes, we’d be in a similar state. But there are three of us this time, and Arthur and I while not nearly as compatible magically, have done this once before, with Bill.”

“Severus helped us with the last Burrow expansion.” Arthur smiled. “We had a big party, the summer before you met Ron.  We added on the dining room. I’m happy to be able to pay him back.”

Snape held out his hand. “Just like last time?”

Harry took it, Snuffles moving agitatedly near his feet. “Just send you the waves, like before?”

“Exactly.” Snape smiled at him, a real smile, and Harry relaxed, closing his eyes. 

“Remarkable!” Arthur’s excited voice almost broke his concentration but Harry fought to keep his attention on the flickering flame at his core.  It was easier this time, and he felt the warmth from Snape even more keenly.  “You two are perfectly aligned!  If I didn’t know better…” he trailed off, then Harry felt a slight jolt.

“Arthur’s joining us.” Snape explained, squeezing Harry’s hand. “You are feeling him.”

Mr. Weasley’s magic wasn’t as warm as Snape’s. Not that it was cold, it just felt slightly off, distracting.  Harry’s forehead scrunched.  It was like a car with a wheel slightly underinflated.

“I’m afraid I’m not as good of a match.” Arthur apologized. “I suspect you two could do this by yourselves but I’ve more experience with the charms.  It won’t need to last long.” Arthur began chanting, Snape picking up the cadence, and Harry could feel the magic move between them, he and Snape feeding energy to Arthur and after a few minutes the dissidence between them seemed to steady and ease, as if they were getting used to each other.  When the chanting stopped Arthur pulled back from them slowly until it was just him and Snape again.  Harry opened his eyes and looked to where his hand was still clasped in the potion master’s.

Snape’s pale fingers curled around his own slightly tan ones, and a visible crackling energy seemed to pulse between them.  Slowly, he felt Snape pulling his own energy back and Harry matched the feeling, until he was his own flame again.  It felt rather lonely.

Snape cleared his throat and reluctantly let go of his hand, as if he too felt it.  “That seemed effective.” He finally managed and Harry turned to look up at the house. 

Instead of four separate row homes, there was now one small one on the end, the only one still occupied by a neighbor, and then one long bank of wall.  It wasn’t perfect, there were bricks laying at odd angles here and there, but it wasn’t nearly as disjointed as the burrow. The roof was the worst bit, dips and twists to the three chimneys making it look slightly comical.  The back of the house was much closer, the extra feet making the courtyard half the size it had been.  The remaining neighbor’s home now looked like it was dwarfed.

Snape made a couple complicated wand movements and the house flickered for a moment. “Charms so that muggles see exactly what it looked like before.  Can’t have anyone notice.” Arthur explained as he worked.

They all made for the door and when they entered the kitchen Harry did a double take.  The tiny room was now twice the size it had been, and there in the middle of the floor was the opening for the basement.

“Well that won’t’ do.” Arthur mumbled and made a complicated move with his wand, and the steps down into the cellar slowly slide to the side, tucking under the other staircase.  The little table migrated to where the stairs had been, and now the marks on the wall and the apron hung over the open space that lead down.  Another few flicks of the wand and a little conjured railing popped up to keep anyone from falling into the space.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Snape gestured to the table. “Do you think the pie is done?”

Harry pulled the pie out, and cut it into three large pieces – they’d been right, that much magic left him starving even though they’d just eaten.  “This is so weird.” Harry finally managed, and watched in awe as the two men did something else complicated and the sink suddenly had running water.

“How do muggles do this?” Arthur asked as they headed into the now expanded sitting room with their plates.

“Lots of people, lots of noise, and weeks of building.” Harry shook his head as he saw how much space there now was.  “This is really really weird.”

“I can do minor adjustments.” Snape surveyed the room, seeming to find it pleasing if the little quirk to his lips was any indication.  “Perhaps I can even add a proper fireplace – the original was built for a tiny coal stove before mother converted it.  You could fire call but it was too small for anything else.  It would be nice to be on the floo.”

The door to the stairs now had another door on the other side of it that opened up into what had been the next door houses and what was now a large empty cavern. A few minutes later it was turned into a study and a dining room, with a small washroom.  The stair case was opened up and what had been three tiny sad little houses looked for all the world like a proper respectable home.  Snape seemed very pleased and Arthur looked quite proud of their work. 

“This is incredible.” Harry couldn’t stop gawking as the two wizards made walls appear out of midair.  “How did you learn all this, Mr. Weasley?”

“Well, we haven’t a lot of money.” He confessed, blushing slightly.  “My father didn’t either.  He had to learn what he could to keep the house up himself and he taught me.  Of course, that house burned down in the war.  Molly and I, we had Bill and Charlie at that point, and we needed somewhere to live, and all we had was the empty lot.  But then we found out muggles just tore down houses they didn’t want anymore!  Well, we found a few that were going to get demolished, and Albus helped us buy them. The muggles thought we were taking the parts or something, but we just took the entire thing and remade it. You see, when you expand a house you aren’t conjuring materials out of nothing.  All the walls we are putting up we are taking down from somewhere – just moving things around.  Nothing is created, just repurposed.  I found a book in the Hogwarts library on theory and taught myself the rest.”

“it’s ingenious.” Harry was really truly impressed.

“Oh, it’s nothing like a real wizarding architect would do, but it gets you by in a pinch.” Mr. Weasley brushed off the praise.

“You are too modest, Arthur.  You are a master at this, truly.” Snape complimented him.  “And the offer stands. If you and Molly want to do another addition just ask. I’ll be glad to help.”

“Me too.” Harry jumped in. “I want to learn how to do this! It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!”

Arthur turned red. “Really, Harry, it’s not how proper wizarding folk does things. It’s considered a bit… low.”

“Well I don’t care. It’s brilliant. I’ve always loved the Burrow, and this is… this is even better.” Harry turned around several times in the new entry way. “What does it look like upstairs?”

A few minutes later and there was an entire hallway of bedrooms and Harry had his own bath for the first time in his life. “I don’t really need an ensuite,” he protested.

“Hush.” Snape advised, eyes twinkling.  “We have the space now and why not?  Let’s both be decadent.”

Snape’s idea of decant apparently involved his own bathroom, a small sitting area, and a large balcony to overlook the courtyard.  It was still modest, compared to the huge washroom and closet the Dursley’s had, but then Snape seemed to like things simple. 

“I’m afraid we are out of building material to spell.” Arthur sighed as they finished. “Just enough to put in a few more cupboards in the kitchen.  There isn’t enough for furniture.”

“Harry and I were going to go shopping this evening but it’s getting late. We can buy some tomorrow.” Snape glided down his new expansive staircase.  “I can’t thank you enough, Arthur.”

“No thanks needed, Severus, truly.  This has been fun!” Arthur nodded, as if satisfied with what they’d done. “I wish you’d asked sooner. I didn’t know you owned the other houses or I’d have offered ages ago.”

“I didn’t want to impose.”

“We Order members look out for one another, even in peace.” Arthur advised, clasping him on the shoulder. Snuffles whined slightly and moved closer to Harry. “Now, I’d best get back to Molly.  I have tomorrow off, which is good. This has been rather tiring, but she’ll want me to recount everything in case we had a good idea to copy.”

“The children are almost grown but if we get another house, we could do that pass through bathroom easily enough, make things a little easier for you.” Snape started to walk him out and Harry stood at the top of the new stairs and just tried to take all the changes in.

“This is just too much, Snuffles.” Harry could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “He’s doing all this, and he made a space…” Harry sat down and buried his face in the dog’s fluffy neck. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me.”

Snuffles whined slightly and curled closer.

Chapter Text

The next day Harry woke and it took a moment for him to get his bearings. The room had grown in size the night before but it was still completely empty except for the little cot and his trunk. Sometime in the night, Snuffles had had a nightmare, and Harry had crawled out of bed to sleep on the floor next to him. The dog was warm and it was kind of nice to have his comforting weight so solidly next to him even if they were on the floor. A hoot from the window drew his attention and Harry stood up quickly to let Hedwig in. “Hey girl.” He stroked her head gently and took the letter tied to her leg. The owl hooted fondly and then flew over to inspect the now awake Snuffles before moving to perch awkwardly on the window sill.

Harry looked around and sighed. He’d not grabbed her cage when he’d left the Dursleys and there wasn’t a good perch in sight. “I’ll find you something girl. Snape said we were going to go shopping today. There’s been a lot of changes since I sent you to deliver a letter to Hermione.” The owl made a soft sound, fluffing out her feathers as if to say it was alright, she’d make do. “It’s loads better here.” He said softly, stroking her again. “And you see we have a new friend. Hedwig this is Snuffles, Snuffles meet Hedwig.” The dog stood up and moved closer, before sitting down directly in front of the bird. The two eyed one another for a moment before Hedwig gave a hoot and started grooming her feathers. “I think that means you’re accepted.” Harry advised, going to sit on his bed and open his letter.

Hermione’s letter was short, as usual, but Harry appreciated the few stories she shared about her family’s trip to France. Her grandmother lived there and Hermione liked to visit whenever she could. She asked about their summer homework, happy to have heard that Harry had finished his during the few weeks after the Dursleys had been threatened. Harry hadn’t told her what had caused the change, but only mentioned how glad he was for it. She had sent several book recommendations, for his recreational reading at the library, and Harry smiled when he saw how extensive the list was. It would take him two summers to read all of it!

Harry took a quick shower when he was done with his letter, immensely glad that there was now indoor plumbing. He hadn’t been looking forward to washing in the tub like the dog. By the time he made it down to the kitchen Snape was actually awake and arguing with the stove, trying and apparently failing to get the toaster to heat. “Here,” harry offered, taking over. “Sit down and drink your tea. You aren’t awake enough to play with fire.”

Snape grunted but did as suggested, and by the time Harry slid a plate of toast and jam in front of him he’d drunk two cups of tea and at least seemed able to string words together coherently. “You are not a morning person are you?” Harry asked, amused.

“No.” Snape bit into his toast and sighed. “If left to my own devises I wouldn’t get out of bed till noon.”

“Well it is summer. Why don’t you?”

Snape huffed. “I have too much to do. I have some rather delicate experiments I run in the summer months that I cannot do at the school. They require too much attention and effort. I try to get as much done as I can while I have the luxury.”

“Oh.” Harry bit his lip, carrying the plates to the sink. “I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“You aren’t.” Snape stood up, his chair scraping the floor. “I need to do a bit of work but I’ll be free after lunch. Would you like to go shopping with me for some things for the house?”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble.” Harry started the water in the sink and frowned when it only ran cold. Apparently they’d only put heating charms on the bathrooms “Can you show me the charm to heat water?”

Snape did so and watched as Harry copied him. “We need to get you a book on household charms. You should know that already.”

“Hogwarts doesn’t exactly teach us this stuff you know.” Harry smiled as the water started to steam. “Hermione asked Mrs. Weasley to teach us, but she only showed Hermione a few things. She didn’t seem inclined to show me any.”

“Mrs. Weasley’s family were traditionalists. She probably doesn’t think a wizard will ever need them. I’ve argued for years to include a home magics class but the board of governors thinks it’s unnecessary – Purebloods the lot. Either they have elves or they learned from their parents and just can’t imagine anyone not knowing.” Snape waved his wand and spoke a different spell and the dishes started to wash themselves. He flicked his wand and they stopped. “Can you repeat that?”

Harry tried. It took watching Snape twice more before he got it but soon the dishes were happily washing themselves and Snape actually smiled at him. “Will you be alright again on your own? I won’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Of course.’ Harry looked around the much larger space. Everything had expanded yesterday, but the new materials were filthy from having come from the abandoned houses. “I might clean for a while.” At Snape’s look Harry shrugged. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“The rules of hospitality would dictate you NOT, but if you insist, at least use magic.” Snape quickly showed him a few other useful spells, had Harry repeat them, and then nodded in satisfaction. “There. Now go practice. At least if you are doing that it’s not like you won’t be getting something out of it.” Snape turned sharply and marched down the new stairs, muttering the entire way about odd boys that liked to do housework on their holidays.

Harry spent the morning cleaning, humming happily to himself as he did, while Snuffles watched him with a confused expression on his doggy face. “What?” Harry finally asked as he changed the water in the bucket for the fifth time. “I like to keep busy and I like things tidy.” The dog laid it’s head on its paws as if to say ‘I can see that- the what’s bothering me.’

Harry should have felt a fool taking to a dog, but Snuffles seemed to understand him rather like Hedwig did, and having spent a lot of time talking to an Owl it just seemed natural. So Harry kept up a steady stream of babble as he worked. He was just lamenting that without him he was sure the roses in Aunt Petunia’s garden would suffer when Snape returned.

The potion master surveyed the now gleaming kitchen with a somewhat pained expression. “I’m glad you found something to enjoy yourself with, but having a guest working is… I’m fairly certain my mother is turning in her grave.”

“But I like being busy.” Harry argued, for what felt like the 100th time.

“I know, which is why I’m letting you. But would you consent to taking a break to go shopping? We do need actual furniture to fill this space.”

Harry looked around and silently agreed. The tiny table looked ridiculously lonely in the now large kitchen. “At least let me help. You only did this because of me.”

Snape sneered. “I did this because it was past time to do it – you being here gave me the swift kick in the pants I apparently needed. My parents were dirt poor, Potter, I’ve just been too busy to do anything about it. Money was not the problem. Potions patents are fairly lucrative, I assure you. Now come on. Let’s see what’s available locally before we resort to some sort of muggle box store.”

Snape changed into muggle clothes and Harry put down some extra food for Snuffles before they left. Cokesworth was starting to grow on Harry, the dank depression of the streets was still there of course, but somehow it felt… familiar now, in a way it hadn’t before. Or maybe that was just him, feeling more connection now that he knew his mother had grown up there. The walk to the commercial section of the city was pretty short – the shops butting up to the old mill workers neighborhood. In the distance Harry could see more cars moving around, and lights, indicating there may be a more modern set of shops somewhere but Snape obviously had no desire to venture that far, or, more likely, not having a car and there being no readily visible public transit, it was just too far to walk.

The cupcake place that had replaced his grandparent’s shop was open, and Harry waved at the nice woman who was changing out the front display. She waved back. It was pleasant, Harry thought with a small smile, to have people recognize him as Harry, not as the Boy Who Lived. The little corner market that had sent the food around was about a block further into the old downtown and an elderly man was sweeping the stoop. Snape nodded in his direction and the man returned the gesture. People really all did know one another.

Most of the store fronts were closed, but there were a few stubborn souls still trying to eek out a living in the face of a collapsed economy. There was an auto repair place doing at least a little business if the two autos waiting out front were any indication. The veterinary office looked nice, with flowers out front and a little statue of a pointer poised next to the sidewalk. There was a dance studio on the second floor of one building that had a Chinese restaurant on the ground level. Harry couldn’t tell if either was still open or not, but the signs were still up at least and said they wouldn’t open till afternoon. The gym was closed, the machines looking sad and dusty behind the grimy glass, but the shoe repair place was surprisingly lively and open with its glowing neon boot tapping away. They rounded a corner and Snape led them over towards a rather large building with a green door and a faded metal sign, “Gabe’s Furniture,” Snape explained in a rather resigned tone of voice, “Has been the only furniture retailer in Cokesworth for decades until that vile Ikea opened up. I refuse to buy furniture from a cardboard box.”

Harry had no idea what an Ikea was but that was fine because as the door opened Harrys’ breath caught. This was not a store, not like the proper stores Aunt Petunia always talked about and that showed shinny adverts on the telle. No, this was a maze of treasures, half broken and in need of repair antiques, well-loved and well-worn heavy wooden monsters, and he was in love.

Snape froze in place. “What the… the last time I was in here it was all organized. This is, this is insane.”

“Tell me about it.” A voice complained from behind a large settee that was standing on its arm. “My uncle just can’t stop buying things at auction and now we have this.” A young woman came out from behind the piles and waved her arms dramatically. “Cokesworth started to go under and Uncle Gabe started buying expecting that someday things would look up and people would need furniture again and this is the result. Three decades of hoarded junk.”

“It’s not junk.” Harry argued softly, greens eyes wide at the wonder of forgotten items. “It’s perfect.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t my long lost cousin are you? You sound like uncle.” She shook her head. “Feel free to poke around. If something falls and crushes you we aren’t libel – I’ve warned you. Everything is 80% off. I’m trying to downsize this mess before Uncle gets back.”

“Where is Gabe?” Snape asked, poking at a side table that tilted alarmingly to the right.

“Hospital.” The woman leaned back against a positively hideous orange desk. Harry kind of liked it. “He had a small stroke but he’ll be alright. Finishing up his physical therapy.”

Snape nodded. “Tell him Eileen Snape’s son asked after him. He won’t know me by name, but my mother worked for him for a time years ago.”

Harry, not knowing Gabe and more interested in diving into the piles, lost sight of the two as they discussed the neighborhood, the fate of Cokesworth, and whatever else adults talked about when they had no idea who each other was but a shared history. Most of the front of the store was filled with colorful but dated pieces, things Harry suspected were from when Snape was a child, but the further back you got the older the items seemed to get and as he rounded a hat stand he saw it – the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It was dark, the stain starting to crackle slightly with age, and the feet were clawed like a bird holding a ball. Each leg was hand turned and the doors on the front were inlayed with lilies, the wood darker now but once probably close to white. The backboard came up to dainty little shelves that surrounded a large oval mirror with a delicate oil lamp hanging in front. Something about the piece called to him, like his wand or his broomstick, like it belonged with him.

“Harry, did you find something?” Snape called and Harry had to swallow before he could answer.

“Yeah.” He called out. “Left side, behind the hat stand with the stuffed eagle on it.”

Snape’s footsteps sounded loud as he made his way back only to stop abruptly behind Harry. “Merlin…”

“It’s beautiful.” Harry ran a hand over the sideboard, his fingers brushing the burnished brass of a door pull.

“How did Gabe get this?” Snape’s voice was slightly unsteady. “This was your grandparents’, Harry. Your grandmother’s father made it – he was a carpenter. They didn’t have room for it here but your grandmother had it in her bedroom instead of a dresser. She couldn’t bear to part with it. It had been her father’s wedding gift to her mother. There used to be…” Snape turned around in a circle, and made a noise, before moving quickly over to another pile of stuff and brushing a throw rug off the top of another piece of dark wood. Harry moved over to look at it.

“Is that…”

“Your mother’s Hogwarts trunk. It was the last thing your great-grandfather made before he passed, or least one of – he made a pair. Mum,” Snape cleared his throat. “My mother made the necessary modifications on them.” Snape trailed his fingers over the lid, then used his sleeve to clean the dust off the top. Beautiful purple and blond wood was inlayed in a matching pattern to the sideboard, but with ivy trailing around the flowers to spell out Lily Evans.

“He made two trunks?” Harry asked, already guessing at who had the second one. When he’d peaked into the professor’s bedroom from the doorway he’d seen a trunk pushed to one side and covered with a blanket. The bottom corner had had the same claw and ball foot, where the ball was a wheel.

“I looked for this at Godric’s Hallow, after.” Snape admitted in a strained voice. “It wasn’t there. I thought for sure she must have left it at Potter Manor. I never thought it would have been at her parent’s house, but then, I suppose it makes sense. She did go home for a time before she married.”

“Uncle got all that at auction.” The woman quietly informed them. “He said the family was old friends of his. He didn’t understand why the eldest daughter didn’t want any of it. The sideboard is huge and houses around here don’t have big dining rooms – nobody could fit it. And who wants a trunk with someone else’s name on it and with a lock and no key?”

“Did he get anything else from the Evans?” Snape asked, his eyes still glued to the trunk.

The woman shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m going to the hospital tonight, I can ask.”

“Whatever you have we’ll take.” Harry stated, and then made meaningful eye contact with the professor. “And you will let me help purchase it if need be. I don’t have anything…”

“Of course we’re buying it!” Snape interrupted, his eyes flashing. “Every last thing.”

Their enthusiasm, and the prospect of an easy sale, motivated the woman. Rather than wait till evening she left them in the shop to unearth the two known pieces and lug them to the front while she went to ask her uncle if there were more. With her gone, they were able to use magic to levitate the sideboard which was a good thing – Harry suspected it weighted a ton and he did not want to know how his grandparents had managed to lug it up the stairs to their second floor home. There were some scratches on it, likely from being moved, but overall it was in excellent shape. The trunk had clearly been used, with dings and scratches from seven years of Hogwarts showing on the surface but Harry did not care. It had been his mother’s!

Gabe’s niece returned with a bounce in her step. “Uncle says there’s a desk around here somewhere and a couple chairs. He sold the sofa and the coffee table years ago but they weren’t handmade stuff, out of a catalog he thought. And there should be a box of linens; he claims he wrote their name on the side.” She eyed the extracted sideboard and trunk. “You two worked pretty fast. I wasn’t sure how you’d get them all the way to door.”

“We had to move a few things.” Harry grinned at her. He turned to say something to the professor but he’d already disappeared back into the piles, clearly on the hunt for the other items.

The two chairs, once found, were ugly. They looked like wing backs that someone had chopped the upholstered arms off and replaced with bent wood. And they were covered in a shaggy fabric that couldn’t make up its mind if it was gold or green. Never the less, Snape carried them carefully to the front as if they were actually made of gold. Family heirloom material they were not, at least in Harry’s opinion, but he’d never seen his professor look so intense before so he did his best to lug the second one up without being too obvious in his opinion on them.

The desk was clearly not made by his great-grandfather -the workmanship was not in the same league at all. It was just square and utilitarian, and reminded Harry of his old teacher’s desk from primary. Yet it too went to the front along with a leather rolling chair that had clearly seen better days. Snape, seeming to realize the need to explain bit out, “They were in your grandfather’s office in the shop.”

The box of linen was under a very very ugly lamp that Harry was delighted to learn had nothing to do with his grandparents because he would have seriously questioned their taste it if had. Inside there were a lot of doilies. A LOT. Two tea cozies crocheted in truly eye watering colors, a few pillow cases with some fancy edging, and some sort of bed cover thingy rounded it out. The box went promptly to the front.

Harry eyed the growing pile and then turned back to look at the sea of unexplored stuff. “How are we getting all this back to the house?”

“Oh, I’ll have my man Reg drive it around.” The owner’s niece advised, looking up from the clip board where she was marking their selections. “You two need anything else?”

Snape nodded. “Yes, a kitchen hutch and maybe a prep table, and a dining room set. The boy requires an entirely new set of bedroom furniture with a wardrobe preferably.”

The girl smiled so wide Harry thought she might hurt herself. “We have a lovely antique dinning set that came from a big manor house out north – it’s just over here.” She bustled away and Snape motioned for Harry to dive back into the fray in search of his own things.

Eventually Harry decided on a rather plain bed set and wardrobe that looked sturdy. It had little acorns carved into the tops but was otherwise just a nice honey colored oak, aging towards the darker orange range that showed it’s age. Reg showed up and helped Harry start to pry it loose and drag it to the front. Snape, meanwhile, was working with the lady to pull a really heavy looking table up, complete with twelve chairs. Why Snape would ever need twelve chairs was a mystery but hey it was his money. Harry wasn’t going to argue with the man.

Harry found a little metal kitchen table with an enamel top with strawberries on it, that while it made Snape raise an eyebrow, was pronounced good enough to serve as a desk for his room. The matching chairs were missing but Gabe’s niece found two in the same style but with lemons. The professor marched up to the front carrying a large plant stand with a long arm on it that would be perfect for Hedwig, and Harry found a huge old wardrobe that just screamed Snape for the potion master’s bedroom. A few random bookshelves joined their mass purchase along with a few other odds and ends that caught either of their fancies – a lamp, a door stop shaped like a cat, and a library card catalog being the most memorable. (Snape wanted to catalog his books – Harry just liked the little cast iron cat.)

They spent far too long in the store and by the time they left it was getting dark and they had two truckloads of furniture following them back. “How exactly is Reg going to help us get this all inside without realizing the house isn’t exactly normal?” Harry asked quietly as they neared the house.

“The wards are charmed to keep muggles from noticing things out of the ordinary. He’ll go back and won’t be able to remember anything odd at all.” Snape explained.

Snuffles was pacing agitatedly inside the door when they got back and seemed angry for some reason. Harry patted him and let him out back and then helped Reg and Snape to unload the truck. While Reg went back for the second load, Harry washed potatoes for dinner and let Snuffles sniff him over twice. Clearly the dog had some form of separation anxiety.

“We still need a few rugs.” Snape announced as he came into the kitchen. “I levitated the sideboard into your room – it’s your family heirloom and there was space. So I need to get something else for the dinning room. It looks a little bare. Maybe we should replace the soft furniture in the sitting room, and the parlor is still empty, and new mattresses wouldn’t be amiss.”

Harry shrugged and dished up the fried potatoes and slid a pork chop onto his professor’s plate before turning to the stove to dish up the spinach. “How often will you even use the parlor?”

“I rarely get to have fun, Potter. Let me indulge without reminding me of reality.” Snape sat down at the table and eyed the new to him kitchen hutch and the long standing height table that now graced the once tiny room. “Now that the place doesn’t make me want to burn it to the ground, perhaps I will have someone over on occasion.”

Harry really wanted to ask who but wisely chose not to. It seemed that his professor wasn’t necessary as anti-social as the entire school thought. Underneath he was a little lonely if Harry had to guess. “You should invite Mr. Weasley back to see it when you are done.”

“We will.” Snape promised, and then gave his attention to his dinner and the growing list of items he wanted to purchase that he was jotting down on a scarp of parchment.

Snuffles just look back and forth between both of them as if he thought they’d lost their minds.

Chapter Text

After dinner, they transfigured their old beds into mattresses for the new ones, and Snape spent a few hours walking the house and making his list even longer. Harry was slightly disturbed by the sudden desire for domesticity his professor was displaying but then, if it was his house he’d have been replacing things too. Plus, he got the disturbing impression that it wasn’t natural, his professor’s distance from other people, that it wasn’t really what Snape wanted. He rather reminded Harry of a skittish cat, one that wanted petted but had been hurt too many times to risk it. Here Harry was, offering company and some form of support even if it was in a weird and twisted way, and Snape was opening up a little under the attention -being allowed, or allowing himself, to do things he never had the courage to do, or to let himself do, until he had a good enough excuse.

Clearly Harry was an excuse and not the cause but frankly he did not care one bit if they had a hall table or a runner – what exactly was a runner anyway?

The next day Snape spent the morning at his potions as usual and then Snape apparated them to Cardiff and Harry learned what an Ikea was. While the shop in Cokesworth had been a sea of used furniture chaos, Ikea was just… organized chaos. He preferred the shop in Cokesworth. Never the less they dutifully ordered new mattresses, and a couch, several rugs… Harry lost track. He got a set of new pans though, which he was actually mildly excited about though he tried to hide it. It was pretty clear from the saleswoman’s face that most teenage boys weren’t excited about cookware.

Honestly was there anything about him that wasn’t freakish?

They arranged for it all to be delivered later that evening, grabbed some lunch at a little curry shop, and were back in time for Snape to do his afternoon potion tending. When the stuff arrived Harry helped the muggles carry it in and then when they left he and Snape floated it all to the proper spots. The large dog bed he’d gotten Snuffles was, admittedly, a little much, more like a toddler bed than a dog bed, but given the happy yips it was worth it.

They fell into a sort of routine, with Harry puttering around the house and cooking meals, spending most of his day reading or playing in the park with Snuffles. Snape spent his time with cauldrons, or watching Harry with a slightly confused expression, as if he couldn’t figure the boy out. Nutrient and growth potions found their way next to Harry’s plate, and Snuffle’s food dish, and after a couple weeks they both started to fill out. Harry was, for once, content. Sure, it wasn’t as lively as time at the Burrow, but it was so much nicer than the Dursleys.

It was just a shame summer was short.

As the time for classes to resume approached, Snape seemed to grow moodier. “We need to arrange for you to get your school supplies.” Snape finally announced, just a few days before term would resume. “I cannot be seen with you in Diagon.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own supplies.” Harry smiled a little. “You know that right? I can shop unsupervised.”

“Not with Black out there and not if I have anything to say about it.” Snape glared down at his tea cup. “You aren’t safe.”

“When am I ever safe?” Harry asked, not really joking. Snape’s head snapped up and his dark eyes bore into Harry. “Except here. I’m perfectly safe here.”

When the professor didn’t say anything Harry sighed. “I usually go with the Weasleys.”

That just made Snape glower. “Molly is a capable witch but she has too much dividing her attention with that gaggle around her. No, Potter, you will have a personal escort. The Headmaster has arranged for the new defense professor to take you, as much as that pains me.”

It was Harry’s turn to slump into his chair. “I haven’t a very good track record with DADA professors. So far they’ve all tried to kill me.”

“Hence my displeasure.” Snape rubbed at his eyes. “I offered to Polyjuice myself but Dumbledore feels you should have fun on the trip and that somehow you would not with me.”

“You’re plenty of fun. We bought furniture!”

Snape snorted. “I doubt most children find furniture purchasing to be an activity to great with enthusiasm.” He stood up and moved their breakfast dishes to the sink. “I’m to apparate you to a neutral location in London in about two hours. Lupin will be taking you for your supplies. While I am not particularly fond of the man, I highly doubt he will try to kill you. At least not this part of the month,” Snape muttered under his breath. “He was friends with your father.” He added almost as an afterthought.

“Really?”

“The only one at all tolerable.” Snape grudgingly admitted. “A good student.”

“Hagrid got me an album with pictures of my parents in them. Could you point him out, if he’s in there?”

Snape nodded and Harry bounded up the staircase to get the album. It took several minutes, and several deep breaths from Snape before he finally settled on a photo. Harry’s parents were laughing, his mum in a white gown, holding a knife getting ready to cut the cake. “There,” Snape pointed at a man hovering at the edge of the photo. “This was their wedding I presume. That man there is Remus Lupin. And that,” he pointed at another laughing wizard, who was tugging on his father’s arm. “That is Sirius Black. I believe he was your father’s best man. They had a muggle ceremony, I’d forgotten that.” Snape’s finger traced the image before he slowly pushed it towards Harry. “The skittish fellow next to Lupin was Peter Pettigrew.”

The Sirius Black in the photo looked nothing like the wanted posters. It was hard to imagine the man laughing in that photo could have possibly been in league with Voldemort. Lupin looked ill and his photo self kept trying to scuttle off the page. “I can’t imagine Ron or Hermione…”

“I would not have thought Black capable either, and my intense dislike for him is legendary.” Snape’s voice was clipped and vibrated with emotion. “Hagrid had a hard time getting photos for this. Nearly every photo of your father had Black in it too. I remember him complaining that the only picture of them cutting the cake was this one.”

“I want to know what he looked like.” Harry admitted softly. “They must have been close.”

“They would call each other brother.” Snape paused and then turned away. “He was also your godfather. If any of them had been likely to betray you parents I would have suspected Pettigrew. He was always the weak one of the group, the tag along. If they hadn’t all shared a dorm I doubt they’d have paid him any mind at all. Pettigrew was never particularly bright, and he craved their attention in an almost unhealthy way. I would have expected Black to have died rather than… I am rarely so wrong about the character of a person.”

“Why didn’t Mr. Weasley tell me Black knew my father? He only said he was a supporter of Voldemort.”

Snape winced slightly at the name but shook it off. “He may not know the full story. Or, it could be Dumbledore told him not to say anything.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And did Dumbledore tell you not to say anything?”

“Not in those exact words.” Snape sat back down at the table and Harry closed the album. “He was worried that if you knew the truth about Black you’d go after him.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I can’t say I’m not angry and I don’t honestly know what I’d do if he was standing here in front of me. But I’m not crazy enough to go looking for him. I’ve only had two years of school. What would I do? Try to kill him with a tickling charm?”

That made Snape smile slightly. “If you could hold it long enough it might work.”

“Lumos him to death?” Harry offered with a small smirk.

“Your defense professors have been rather pathetic.” Snape replied back with a roll of his eyes. “I should have spent the summer catching you up. We’ll add it to the agenda for next year.”

Harry’s heart gave a lurch. “I can come back?”

Snape slowly turned to look at him. “You are never going back to the Dursleys, Harry. I can promise you that. If I have to burn that wretched house to the ground with them in it – whatever it takes.”

The casual offer of arson and murder should have made him leery. Instead, Harry couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in his eyes. When he leaned over the table to hug the man he wasn’t sure who more startled.

BREAK

Snuffles was not happy to be left behind but then the dog was never happy to let Harry out of his sight. They had to lock him in the kitchen so they could apparate out of the back garden in peace.

The park they arrived in was dingy, the sort of depressing public park that Aunt Petunia would turn her nose up at and that Uncle Vernon would angrily accuse of housing drug addicts and prostitutes. The man waiting for them just looked kind of homeless, if truth be told. His clothes were old and faded, visibly mended in several spots, but without wrinkles or dirt. He was wearing an extra layer on top of his shirt even though it was August and quite sunny. A nasty scar ran down one cheek and he looked far older than in the picture Harry had seen. Time had certainly not been kind to Mr. Lupin.

“Lupin.” Snape greeted with a sneer.

“Severus.” The man replied, his eyes looking a little droopy until they landed on Harry. “And Harry.”

“Prof. Lupin.” Harry held out his hand and tried to hold back his excitement. “Prof. Snape said you were to be our new Defense professor.”

“Yes.” Lupin smiled at that and shook Harry’s hand quickly before letting it go. There was a slight tremor in the older man’s arm and hand that he tried to hide by tucking it into his robe pocket. “Do you have your list?”

Harry patted his pocket. “Yup.” He turned to Snape and gave the man wide grin. “Anything you need from the Alley, Professor?”

Snape shook his head. “No but do be careful. I’ll meet you back here at 4pm sharp.” He paused. “Curry for dinner? I’ll order it in.”

“Or you can just get me coconut milk and I’ll make it.” Harry offered with a teasing tone. “You know you like mine better.”

Snape sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe you memorized recipes while at the public library.”

Harry shrugged. “I have many talents, Professor.”

“None of which involve your schoolwork.” It would have sounded biting if it wasn’t for the slight crinkle to the man’s eyes. “4pm.”

“4pm.” Harry agreed and waved as the professor turned to walk away.

Harry was smiling as he looked back towards Lupin only to find the man frowning at him. “Does he make you cook?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I have to argue with him to cook. It’s the least I can do for him what with getting me away from the Dursleys.”

Lupin grimaced slightly. “I tried to argue with Dumbledore about placing you there but he was insistent. And then I couldn’t even get through the wards to check on you.”

Harry froze. “You tried to check on me?”

Lupin blushed slightly. “Did Severus tell you anything about me?”

“Just that you were friends with my dad.”

Lupin nodded. “We were quite close. When I found out what happened I was overseas. By the time I got back you were already with the Dursleys and… I did try and make a claim for you but without a blood relation it did not even warrant a hearing. The mail redirect wards meant I couldn’t even get a letter to you.” He paused awkwardly. “I’m glad to see Severus is giving you a, a home?” It almost sounded like a question. “Dumbledore told me you were staying with him for the summer.”

Harry nodded and they started walking towards the tube station. “Yeah. I sort of ran away from the Dursleys. And Professor Snape said if I was ever in trouble I could go to him, so Snuffles and I did.”

“Snuffles?”

“My dog.” Harry brightened slightly. “He’s fantastic. Severus is going to take care of him for me during the school year. Snuffles still acts skittish around him but I think they are slowly getting used to each other.”

“Can’t separate a boy from his dog.” Lupin agreed with a smile. “We just need to hop on the tube for a bit and then we’ll walk to the Leaky.”

Harry shrugged. “Severus gave me muggle money in case. I need to stop at Gringotts though before we do any shopping.”

Once settled in for the short ride, Harry couldn’t help but ask. “So you knew my dad? Severus told me a lot about my mum but, I know he didn’t get on with my father so we haven’t really talked about him much.”

Lupin gave a harsh snort. “That is an understatement. Those two couldn’t be in the same room without curses flying. Sirius,” Lupin stopped what he was going to say, his expression crumpling.

“It’s okay.” Harry patted the man’s arm. “I know Sirius Black was one of your friends and my godfather. It’s okay to talk about him. I imagine it’s, it’s a little like the man you knew died with them.”

Lupin nodded, and swallowed thickly. “It rather is.” They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride.

When they reached the Leaky, Harry pulled his hat down lower and kept his gaze down as they walked through the pub. Lupin seemed to get the desire for anonymity and rather than call attention to them as Hagrid had done, he slipped easily through the light crowd and then deftly maneuvered them into the Alley. Gringotts stood tall and proud as they made their way towards it. Lupin, for some reason, hesitated on the steps.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“I just haven’t been in here in years. I, I don’t have a vault of my own.”

Given the shabby state of his robes Harry suspected he had nothing to put in a vault. “You can wait here.” He offered.

“No, no it’s fine. Last time I was here I was with your father actually.” Lupin smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was helping him sort out some of the Potter holdings.”

“Holdings?”

Lupin sighed. “I don’t suppose Albus has explained any of that to you?” Harry shook his head and Lupin rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “You are the heir to the Noble House of Potter, and because of, because of Black the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You could claim the Potter Lordship now, if you wanted, but the Black can’t be claimed till…” He trailed off.

“Right.” Harry sighed. “And I suppose there’s a lot of stuff that goes along with all that, stuff I probably should have learned as a kid and will now have to spend hours and hours reading about with Hermione telling me off for not asking questions earlier?”

That got a laugh out of the man. “Most of it you can’t do anything about till you are out of school anyway, like claiming the family seat on the Wizengamot. But you might as well claim the Lordship. It has a few perks.”

They walked up to the first free teller and then, rather than the carts, were lead into a back room. “Hand please.” The Goblin asked without inflection. Lupin nodded and Harry stuck out his hand. He winced slightly as the Goblin pricked his finger with a blade he seemed to make appear out of thin air. With a tug, his hand was turned over onto a piece of parchment.

“Lord Potter.” The goblin pronounced when the blood pooled into a ring. “Take the ring please.” He commanded.

Harry snatched it up and, after looking at Lupin for instruction on what to do, slipped it onto the finger the professor mimed.

“Do you wish to make a withdrawal?” the goblin asked, just as emotionlessly.

“Yes?” Harry answered, a little uncertain.

“Trust vault or main vault?”

“Trust.” Lupin stepped in. “And Lord Potter would like a full accounting of all assets and holdings.”

The goblin eyed the man. “Are you returning to your role as Steward to the Potters?”

Lupin’s eyes flickered to Harry. “Yes, yes he is.” Harry answered quickly, vowing to find out later what exactly that meant.

The goblin huffed, seemingly pleased all of a sudden. “The House of Potter has been without stewardship since the last Lord’s death. I’ll have all the necessary papers sent to you, Steward Lupin.”

“Thank you” Lupin bowed just a bit. “Now, Harry should have a money pouch tied to his trust vault, pre-loaded with, say 200 gallons? Would that be sufficient, Harry? If you need more it will refill at the end of the month.”

“Like an allowance?” Harry’s eyes bulged. “I never spend that much in a whole year.”

“Well, if you don’t spend it, it will just return to the vault no harm.” Lupin nodded to himself. “And let’s see, about 1000 for school shopping. You’ll need new robes which are always pricey.”

“Another 1000 for the steward.” The goblin suggested, eyeing him up and down. “To present the proper image.”

“No,” Lupin shook is head. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Yes it is.” Harry insisted, getting a better idea of what was going on. “If you’re going to have an official role in my House, then you should look like we take care of you, right?” He turned to the goblin who nodded. “It would reflect badly on me if you weren’t kitted out.”

“I’m not offering to do this for money, Harry. James never liked to handle the business side of things, so I did this for him and things must be a mess without any oversight for so long I thought I’d just clean it up a little….”

“Did he do a good job?” Harry asked the goblin. “Before, for my father?”

“Mr. Lupin was an excellent steward. He increased the Potter holdings by over 35 percent in the three years he held the post before the war, and during an economic downturn.” The goblin supplied, his eyes glittering a little, likely at the prospect of more gold coming to the vaults. “And, forgive me for the presumption, but your holdings have diminished substantially without tending. It would be wise to have someone with experience provide direction until you are of age to oversee them yourself.”

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “But why did you stop?” He asked Lupin.

The man sighed. “When a Lord dies all such contracts are suspended. I couldn’t continue without your permission or the permission of your guardian.”

“Dursley’s would have taken every galleon I had.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “They aren’t dipping into my vaults are they?”

“No, only your magical guardian has had access.” The goblin’s eyes glittered dangerously.

Harry had a bad feeling. “And who is my magical guardian?”

“Albus Dumbledore.”

Chapter Text

“You’ve been quiet since you returned.” Snape stated in a careful voice while Harry dished up their curry later that night. “Did everything go alright in Diagon?” Snuffle’s head popped up at that.

Harry slid into his seat at the table and stared down at his plate. “I guess.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “That is not a sufficient answer.”

“Prof. Lupin was the steward for dad, taking care of stuff.” Harry explained while moving his rice around in a circle with his fork. Snuffles slide up to rub against his leg in support. “He had me claim the Potter Lordship at Gringotts, and the goblins got all excited, and we left with a mountain of paperwork. Apparently things haven’t been handled since…” he trailed off.

Snape took a slow bit of his food before asking, “And he has returned to the position of steward?”

“It seemed like a good idea. I have no idea what any of it means.” Harry twisted the ring on his finger nervously. “He asked me to call him Remus, and he got me a few books about stuff I should know.”

“Do you want to know if you can trust him?”

Harry shook his head. “The goblins like him, and they don’t like anybody. I think that’s reason enough to trust him with my money. It’s just, why didn’t I know about there being things that needed done? I would have at least tried to learn about it, and do something. Nobody ever mentioned it!” Harry’s voice raised at the end and he glared at nothing. “Why does everyone always keep secrets from me?”

“By everyone you mean the headmaster.” Snape clarified, pushing his plate away. “Albus is your legal magical guardian and it should have been him who took you to claim your Lordship when you turned 11 and entered our world. Prior to that, he could have authorized Lupin to continue as steward instead of letting the House flounder.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, crossing his arms and digging his nails into his palms, he clenched his fists so hard. “He’s always telling me half-truths and keeping secrets about me. Don’t I deserve to know about my own family!”

“Yes, you do.” Snape agreed calmly. “Albus has many motivations, Harry. Not all of them will coincide with your best interests.”

“He pretends to care about me.” Harry frowned. “I just don’t know why he bothers. The kindly grandfather act must have a purpose.”

“He does care, as much as he is able.” Snape gave a tired sighed. “Albus is not a normal man, Harry. He’s incapable of the kind of care and affection a child deserves. He means well, he intends to care, but he is constantly distracted by what he sees as the greater need, the greater good – and he will put anyone’s needs aside to aid what he feels is a more worthwhile goal, or a larger one.”

“How can abandoning me with the Dursley’s and hiding information about my family be for the greater good?”

“I do not know.” Snape admitted, his dark eyes gleaming with barely contained emotion. “But clearly something more than either of us is aware of is in play and has been since the night your parents died. What, I do not know. His actions in regards to you make little sense. In truth, many of his actions in the last few years are inscrutable. He is extremely upset that you are staying with me, for example, which is hardly unprecedented. Minerva has had several students spend summers with her when families were unable to care for them, Filius as well. As a Head of House it is not at all unusual to be called on for such.”

“But you’ve never done it before?”

Snape sighed softly. “I have, but not here. In the past when it was necessary I took the child to the Malfoy’s. They are always willing, and to a degree eager ,to have more children around. Narcissa always wanted a big family and when she could not, she compensated by extending hospitality to any in need. For a Pureblood family, the concept of Hospitality is sacred. The right of Sanctuary even more so. For obvious reasons it was unwise to ask for their assistance in your case.”

“I prefer breathing, thanks.” Harry only half joked. “You said something to the Headmaster about Sanctuary before. What does that mean?”

“It is complicated.” Snape motioned towards Harry’s plate. “Eat and I will explain.” He waited until the boy took a mouthful to continue. “To understand Sanctuary one must understand Hospitality. They are too entwined not to be considered related.” Snape settled back into his chair, his voice taking on a distinct air of lecture that Harry knew well. “Hospitality is tradition not law, but it requires that anyone who calls on a house be given certain curtsies. I believe many muggle cultures have similar rules about offering food or drink to a visitor, of assuring safety while anyone is accepting hospitality, that sort of general politeness is fairly universal. There are, however, a few meaningful differences. In the old days, before the Floo network and portkeys, weaker witches and wizards who did not have the power to apparate, or who had children, were confined to the same physical transport as muggles. Long journeys were especially dangerous because at any time muggles could realize there was a witch or wizard passing through their town. Children were particularly in danger with their accidental magic. Therefor it was considered the height of rudeness to not offer a place to sleep should evening fall while a guest was present. This was doubly so if there was a child involved. It was not uncommon during the witch trials for a child to be left in the company of strangers for days or weeks if a family was forced to move. The parents would continue on in their journey, scout out safe routes and other lodgings along the way, find a new home even, and then return for the child. During their absence the child was always extend the Right of Hospitality. It was understood that any village could turn on any of us at a moment’s notice, and so by extending the right to a stranger’s young one you would, it was hoped, be offered the same if you were ever in need. As certain Houses grew in wealth and stature, their homes became way stations along the refugee routes. The Black’s had a home in London, for example, that was often the first point a family in danger in the larger city could rest. They would then guide them onto the next stop and so forth. This was how the floo network was born. Several of the oldest families worked together to find a way to travel between their homes without anyone having to go outside the wards. The large fireplace in the Great Hall at Hogwarts was once the main way of reaching the school for most children. They would floo in from one of the old houses where they were either waiting under Hospitality, or as times darkened Sanctuary.”

“And what’s the difference between Hospitality and Sanctuary?” Harry asked, mentally starting to capitalize both words.

“Sanctuary is not temporary, as Hospitality generally is.” Snape shook his head as if the topic actually hurt. “It was not uncommon for parents to leave a child at a safe haven under Hospitality and never to return. Sanctuary was born out of the necessity for those children to be cared for and kept safe. The old families felt that they had made a promise with their extensions of Hospitality to keep the young ones from harm while under their roof. They would not abandon them or refuse them shelter. But with no hope for the parents to return, the child required legal and social protection as well as room and board. Sanctuary is not only custom but law. A House can extend Sanctuary to anyone, usually a child, and in doing so they fall within the protection of that House. To harm that child is to harm the House of Sanctuary. The child is considered a member of that House until they are of age, treated the same as any other child born into it. It is a sacred duty.” Snape paused as if weighting his next words carefully. “As time has moved on Sanctuary has become more than a way to protect orphans, but rather a way to protect anyone in desperate need. Nowadays it most often invoked in cases of abuse.”

Harry’s heart felt tight. “You told Dumbledore you wouldn’t turn me away, because I asked for Sanctuary. I didn’t know it existed so I couldn’t have asked.”

“Not in those words, but your arrival here was the intent needed.” Snape admitted. “According to the law I could not offer Sanctuary, it must be requested, and it must begin as Hospitality. So, when you were here the first time with Arthur and spent the night, that was under the rights of hospitality. You had indicated there was unpleasantness at the Dursley’s which I saw firsthand. When I offered you the portkey back, knowing you were returning to potential danger, and you took it, that was the first step to invoking Sanctuary. When you activated the portkey you, and that dog and your bird, all fell automatically under Sanctuary to the House of Prince.” Snape took a deep breath. “Not that the House of Prince is much to look at. My mother’s family squandered what money they had before I was born and nearly disowned us both. My grandfather had no other options for an heir so the title at least came to me. So far the only benefit I’ve seen from it is that I can, as Head of a House, offer you Sanctuary. Even if this house is the only dwelling in which we can reside, the great house long gone.”

Harry took a drink of water to try and think through what he’d just been told. “The laws sound really old. Are they still in use?”

“I received Sanctuary as a teen from the House of Malfoy.” Snape admitted, his eyes narrowing at the memory. “My mother died when I was late into my 6th year and my father refused to allow me to return home. I did not return to this house until he’d passed away around the time you were born. Your grandfather extended Sanctuary to Sirius Black under the House of Potter some time in his fifth year I believe. I know of at least three more cases during my tenure at Hogwarts.”

“Oh.” Harry stared down at his plate. “So when you told Dumbledore you’d invoked Sanctuary it, it meant…”

“That I was telling him to bugger off.” Snape smirked at the expression on Harry’s face. “I didn’t argue with him about you going back to the Dursley’s next summer because he has absolutely no legal ability to send you there now that you are under my protection. His guardianship of you was insufficient to keep you from requiring Sanctuary, so under the laws of magic his claim is now secondary to mine. Of course that won’t be official unless the Ministry tests the magic invoked, but Albus won’t go that far. He knows the Rights as well as I, and he knows they cannot be undone. So long as I continue to offer you the full Rights of Hospitality, you will remain under Sanctuary. Now that you’ve claimed your Lordship he would have an additional hurdle to returning you to your family.” Snape sneered the last word. “Technically you are able to extend Sanctuary to yourself if need be, as Lord Potter protecting a child.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That is magical law.”

“Why,” Harry started to ask but then stopped.

“You can ask me questions, Harry. I will always do my best to answer.”

“Why didn’t the Weasley’s ever…” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish the question.

“Because Arthur doesn’t have a Lordship.” Snape explained gently. “They are an old family but they were never aristocracy. The law of Sanctuary can only be invoked by the Lord of one of the noble houses. Prince is a minor house, but Noble. The Weasley’s aren’t.”

The fluttering in his chest eased slightly. “So it’s not that they didn’t want me?”

“They’ve tried to adopt you several times, Harry.” Snape reached a hand out and let it rest heavily on the boy’s shoulder. “I suspect that was one of the major reasons Arthur brought you to me, more than your desire to help your friend. He knew I could invoke Sanctuary while he could not.”

“So this means that I’m, I’m part of your family at least until I’m of age?” Harry finally asked, softly, unable to look at his professor as he painfully asked the question burning his throat.

“Always.” Snape promised, squeezing his shoulder. “I will always consider you family, Harry. And you will always be welcome in my home.”

BREAK

The day before they were to return to Hogwarts found Harry in the potions lab helping with a fairly large batch of the potion for Millie’s mum. A member of the family was supposed to be by that evening to pick it up. It was just as fascinating to watch Snape brew it for the second time as it had been the first.

“Why do you do that extra little stir?” He asked, peering down into the caldron as Snape did a particularly complicated movement with his stirring rod.

“It’s the rune for protection.” Snape explained. “You won’t get to that until NEWT level, but runes combine with many of the more advanced potions. There is a school of thought that says it is unnecessary…”

Harry snorted. “If it was unnecessary you wouldn’t be doing it. So the people that say that probably just don’t know how.”

Snape’s grin was feral. “I’d give you points but we haven’t started classes.”

Harry’s good mood dimmed. “I think this is the first time I’m not looking forward to going back. I mean, I miss everyone but it’s nice, you know. Being here.”

Snape set the potion to boil and motioned for them to go up the new staircase and back into the kitchen. Snuffles was waiting for them at the top, eager as usual to be reunited with his wandering boy. “I find I am equally unenthusiastic about our return.” Snape paused and then went to the sink to fill the kettle. “Normally I stay at Hogwarts over the holiday break, however, if you wish we could return here.”

“Really?” Harry asked, eagerly. “Ron and Hermione stayed last year to keep me company but I hate that they do that. They should spend time with their own families, you know?”

“I would have to be gone one evening. The Malfoy’s throw a Winter Solstice gathering that I cannot skip without being rude. However, it is only one night… you haven’t celebrated the solstice have you?”

“Nope.” Harry smiled and bounced to the cupboard to pick out cups for them both as Snape prepared the pot. “So I won’t know what I’m missing. You can fill me in all the culture stuff muggle raised me doesn’t know after the fact.”

“I’m starting to think Granger knows more about wizarding culture than you do.”

“Probably.” Harry admitted with a shrug. “She used to pester Ron to tell her about stuff, but he’s like the anti-culture person. Neville answered a few questions and then started hiding from her. She can get a little over enthusiastic.”

“Quite the perfect description of her.” Snape agreed with a sneer. “To make a slight change of subject, I have been corresponding with Ms. Bulstrode and we’ve agreed to meet Sunday evenings for me to teach her how to brew the necessary potion. Would you also be interested in attending?”

Harry froze. “You think I could?”

“I don’t see why not. You lack attention to detail in your brewing, and a base line of knowledge that would aid you in understanding the ingredient interactions but you aren’t a menace the way Longbottom is. The Potter’s have historically been quite adapt at brewing – it is in a way your heritage. You should know something more about it than the paltry elementary knowledge I am able to impart to the average dunderhead.”

“I’m going to choose to take that as some sort of twisted compliment.” Harry set the cups down at the table and slide into his chair.

Sometime later, while Snape was busy bottling up the potion, the doorbell rang. Harry peaked through the side window and then rushed to open the door. “Millie!” Harry grinned ear to ear.

His friend’s jaw dropped. “Harry? What are you doing here?” Never the less she returned his enthusiastic hug and stepped inside. An older man, not quite as tall as her father but clearly taller than the average wizard followed her inside.

“It’s a little complicated.” Harry shrugged off her questions. “Severus is finishing the potion. He’ll just be a minute.”

“Harry, this is my cousin Magnus.” Millie introduced.

“Hello.” Harry greeted the man with a smile. “Millie talks about you all the time in her letters.”

Magnus laughed softly. “When she told me she was friends with the Boy Who Lived I almost didn’t believe her. But then my uncle confirmed it.” He bent down and rubbed a hand gently over Snuffle’s head when he approached cautiously to sniff out the new people.

“Why don’t you come in and have some tea while we wait.” Harry offered, gesturing towards the new sitting room.

His friend and her cousin seemed nervous, as if unused to being invited into places, and Harry made special effort to make the tea tray up.

“They here?” Severus called up the staircase.

“Just making them tea.” Harry called back. “Millie came with her cousin Magnus.”

“I thought she might.” Snape appeared, carrying the crate full of potions, enough to last till summer. “Why don’t you take them the cupcakes we got yesterday? We leave tomorrow morning and won’t have time to finish them all ourselves. I need to finish bottling up the rest of this batch for the Flitwicks. Magnus offered to deliver it as well since they live on the other side of the village. I’m sure you know how to offer hospitality as well if not better than I.”

Harry nodded and added the cupcakes to the tray. “Take your time. They seem nervous enough with just me.”

“I doubt they are used to being welcomed into a wizarding home.” Severus admitted with a frown before turning and going back down into his lab.

Harry carried the tray in and set it down on the little table in front of the sofa. “Severus and I spent the summer redoing the house.” Harry was rather proud of their work and his friend and her cousin were the first to see it. “I didn’t know it, but my mum’s family was from here. We went to a local antique store and they had several of my grandparent’s things.”

“That’s amazing.” Millie looked around the room. “Anything in here?”

“The two really ugly chairs over there.” Harry pointed at them. “The rest of it is upstairs. It’s not much, but I haven’t ever had anything that belonged to mum.” He looked down at his cup of tea. “The cupcakes are from the little shop that opened up where my grandparent’s used to have their photo shop.”

“They are very good.” Magnus spoke softly, almost tentatively. “Millie said you were living with your mum’s sister…”

“Aunt Petunia.” Harry sipped his tea. “But not anymore. It’s, it’s a bit of a secret where I am now.”

“Professor Snape’s offered you Sanctuary, hasn’t he.” Millie stated rather than asked. “That’s why your letters changed half way through the summer, right after you visited me.”

Harry nodded, not looking up to see their reactions. “You can’t tell anyone. Severus says you two can be trusted, that we’ve already got secrets between us so this isn’t anything more, but it’s important nobody knows what he’s done for me.” He pitched his voice quieter and looked up at his friend. “I have to protect him, Millie. If people knew, if the Malfoy’s knew…”

She reached a hand out to squeeze his knee. “We won’t tell anyone. But I don’t think the Malfoy’s would cause you or the professor trouble, Harry. They follow the old ways, and Sanctuary is a pretty sacred concept to that lot. You need to be more worried about Parkinson and her crowd, the nouveau Pureblood crowd. They are the real fanatics.”

Magnus snorted. “They feel insecure in their status so they like to make trouble for others. Makes ‘em feel better about themselves, like people won’t possibly question their purity if they are constantly pointing fingers. The Malfoys, the Goyles, and the Crabbes won’t cause you trouble, the Blacks wouldn’t either if they were still extant.”

“I thought the Parkinsons were part of that silly 28 thing.” Harry frowned. “At last Pansy brags about it.”

“They are, but that list is pretty recent.” Magnus took a second cupcake when Harry motioned him towards the plate. “They barely made the cut and the older families have never let them forget it. They weren’t Noble at the time either. Now, Pansy’s dad managed to get himself a title – questionable means I hear – but it’s not a hereditary one. His seat on the Wizengamot was elected. He can get voted out like a commoner.”

“Oh.” Harry mulled that knowledge over. “I’m not sure I understand all that. I didn’t even know it was a thing until this summer.”

“I can explain more when we get to Hogwarts, or I’m sure Longbottom can. His family is Ancient and Noble.” Millie offered. “The Bulstrodes were never noble, but we’re an old family.”

“Old and poor as dirt.” Magnus offered with a shrug. “But frankly I think it’s better that way. Who wants to have to navigate all those politics?”

Harry shifted slightly, thinking about his lordship ring. “It all seems silly to me.”

“See, this is why I like him. He’s too ignorant to be arrogant.” Millie joked. Reading the lowered mood in her friend she changed the subject. “So, what electives did you finally decide on?”

“Ron wants us to take divination, says it’s easy. But I opted for Runes. Seemed more practical.” Harry latched onto the topic change. “Severus uses them for the potion for your mum, and they came in handy with the house. I just, I thought I might like to learn more. So I owled Professor McGonagall and asked to change. She seemed almost relieved in her letter back.”

“I’d suggest everyone should drop that blasted course.” Snape’s voice gruffly interrupted from the doorway. “Anything is preferable to that insipid nonsense.”

Millie, eyes wide, croaked out “Can I change too then?”

“I already got an extra rune’s textbook for you.” Harry offered with a grin. “Something told me you’d want it.”

Chapter Text

Prof. Lupin was asleep in one the back compartments on the train when Harry slid into place. Snuffles was going to Hogwarts with Prof. Snape, since travel by train with such a large dog would have been difficult. Harry was earlier than usual and could have grabbed an empty compartment, but he’d wanted a chance to talk to the Professor anyway, and this might keep his friends from being too aggressive questioning him.

Harry watched through the window as Millie’s dad and Magnus dropped her off. She looked sad, standing there on the platform saying goodbye, and if matters were different, if their world was different, Harry would have met her with a hug and some chocolate, and company. But it wasn’t safe for her to be seen with him, and so he watched sadly while she lugged her trunk into the train and then past his compartment towards one of the empty ones, with nothing but a quick guilty look in his direction. If she was lucky the other Slytherins would leave her alone with her books for the journey – if she was unlucky Harry knew she’d have to put up with hours of snide comments and belittling looks.

Before long, Neville appeared, looking relieved to be escaping his grandmother’s eagle eye, and Harry motioned for him to join him when he entered the train. “Who’s that?” Neville asked in a whisper and pointed at Lupin. “He’s got the Potter crest on his satchel.”

“Remus Lupin.” Harry answered back just as softly and with a smile. “He’s the Steward for my house and he’ll be our defense professor. I met him this summer. He’s really nice.”

Neville nodded. “I didn’t realize you had a steward, although it makes since. Gran takes care of all that stuff for me.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “My dad’s still alive, so we can’t do a lot. But with him not able to…”

Harry didn’t know the full story about Neville’s parents, he’d assumed they were dead until Malfoy had made a couple nasty comments last year. Whatever it was, his friend would tell him when he was ready. So Harry tossed an arm over Neville’s shoulders in support and nudged him onto a seat. “I didn’t even know Houses were a thing till this summer. Remus gave me some books to read. I feel like an idiot for not asking more questions.”

Neville shrugged. “Not like it means much while you’re still underage. You can’t really do much as Lord Potter,” He nodded towards the ring peeking out of Harry’s robe sleeve, “until you get your seat on the Wizengamot and you can’t claim that until you are 15 at least. There’s probably a big house somewhere under wards but it will keep until you claim it. There’s got to be at least one elf there to manage things if it’s like any of the other great houses.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that.” Harry glanced towards the still slumbering Lupin. “I’ll have to ask. I don’t want to leave any elves alone like that if there are any. I think they’d go a little crazy without anyone around.”

“Probably.” Neville agreed. “How was your summer?”

“Pretty good for a change.” Harry smiled widely. “Half way through I got to go to a safe house, you know because of Black? It was fantastic. I have an invite back for the holidays so I won’t have to stay at Hogwarts.”

Neville’s eyes widened slightly. “You got offered Sanctuary didn’t you?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about that.” Harry dropped his head. “For security reasons.”

“Gran wanted to, you know.” Neville admitted in a tight voice. “When she heard you were with muggles. But she can’t – she’s not the head of house, and dad isn’t able to. Not that you’d have liked it at Longbottom Keep but you’d have been welcome.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Harry bumped his shoulder. “I know the Weasley’s tried to adopt me but they didn’t have the option of Sanctuary and apparently nobody would let them. Even Remus tried. It’s nice to know I wasn’t just tossed to my aunt when nobody wanted me.”

“Gran says da and mum were petitioning the Ministry the minute they heard, but then they were attacked a few days later.” Neville gave a large sigh. “After that there wasn’t a point. They couldn’t care for me or themselves let alone you. The petition was dropped. Gran’s never forgiven the Ministry for that. She has a long rant every time she sees you at the station.”

“Tell her I appreciate it but I’m okay now.” Harry smiled extra wide. “It’s really great where I am, Neville. I didn’t expect it to be, but I’ve got my own room and I got to decorate it anyway I wanted. I got to pick out the furniture and everything. And the kitchen’s pretty old fashioned but it’s mine you know? They let me cook whatever I want. I bought a new set of pans even.”

“Oh. That’s, that’s great Harry.” Neville looked at him a little funny. “You like to cook?”

“Yes.’ Harry squirmed slightly. “Is that a problem?”

“I like plants, Harry, why would you cooking be an issue?” Neville grinned at him. “it’s just unexpected.”

Pretty soon Hermione appeared, her new orange cat protesting his cage with a steady low growl that made Neville back into the corner of the seat. Once she let him out, the cat bounced over to Lupin and promptly went to sleep against his leg. The professor mumbled something and shifted in his seat slightly, almost curling around the creature. It made Harry giggle slightly. He’d have to ask the professor if he liked cats later. Ron and the rest of the Weasley’s were late as usual, bumbling into the platform just minutes before the last warning whistle. Ron made such a clatter trying to pull his trunk into the compartment Lupin woke with a start.

“Oh!” The man shook his head and blinked tiredly. “Let me help you with that.” He offered, going to stand up only to fall back into his seat as the train lurched into life.

“I’ve got it.” Ron gave a mighty tug and managed to finally get the heavy thing over the slight bump and then leaned it against the side wall. “Darn luggage compartment was full.”

“Crookshanks, no!” Hermione screeched as the cat, disturbed by Lupin’s attempt to stand up, stretched and then launched itself at Ron’s pocket where a skinny limp tail was sticking out.

“Oh no.” Lupin reached out and quickly caught the cat. “No eating other pets, kitty.” The cat hissed at him but the man just smiled and held him tighter until it gave up with an indignant cat huff.

“Prof. Lupin,” Harry smiled and gestured to Hermione. “This is Hermione Granger,” he pointed to Ron, “Ronald Weasley and his sister Ginny, and Neville Longbottom.” He ended with the boy sitting next to him. “Guys, this is Remus Lupin. He’s going to be our DADA professor this year. And he’s the Steward for the House of Potter.”

“Oh.” Hermione stood up quickly and held out her hand. “Delighted to meet you, sir. You’ll have to tell us all about what a steward does. I’m afraid I’m still trying to learn about such things.”

Ron, looking slightly uncomfortable bowed slightly. “Ah, Steward Lupin, ah….” His nose scrunched up as if he was trying to remember something.

“Oh, no formal greetings please.” Lupin waved off whatever Ron was about to say. The older man smiled a little, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “I’ve never been big on the formalities, and really I’m just filling in until Harry finds someone more to his liking.”

“Dad picked you and the goblins like you. Unless you want to quit I don’t see a need to go looking.” Harry shook his head, the man clearly needed some self-confidence.

Lupin just looked more uncomfortable until he turned to look at Neville. “Are you Frank and Alice’s boy?” Neville gave a slight nod, his eyes widening at the question. “I knew your parents well.” Lupin gave the timid boy a real smile then and sat back down. “I used to visit them regularly until they put more restrictions on the ward. How are they?”

“Same.” Neville admitted, glancing at the others in the cabin as if unsure their reactions. “I suppose no change is better than a downgrade.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “When did they start restricting visitors?”

“A few years ago.” Lupin looked away and out the window. “I think your grandmother was worried that someone would try and take advantage of your father’s condition.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed with a sigh. “He could still sign his name if you asked just right, at least until last year. He fell and broke his wrist and since then he doesn’t hold a quill well.”

Ron, clearly confused, opened his mouth to ask what they were talking about but Hermione smacked him and gave him a look. She mouthed ‘later’, and the red head sat back reluctantly into the seat. Ginny, better able to sense the need for a new topic, cleared her throat. “So, professor, any plans for start of term we should be aware of? I want to be prepared for class.”

“Well, first thing I thought I’d do a little review, get a feel for where everyone is.” Lupin announced, looking contemplative. “What were your last professors like?”

The entire compartment groaned. “Bloody awful,” Ron answered with a wince. “So far they both tried to kill Harry.”

“Really Ron,” Hermione crossed her arms. “Lockhart may have been incompetent but he wasn’t out to get Harry.”

“He tried to Obliviate us both.” Harry argued indignantly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes but that wasn’t an attempt to kill you.”

“Wait, he tried to what?” Lupin asked, his voice rising in alarm. “And what happened first year?”

“Guys maybe we should just…” Harry was cut off by the rest of the compartment rather gleefully filling in the man on every detail of the last two years, much to his consternation. By the time they were done, it was starting to get dark and Lupin looked shell shocked.

“Harry,” the man turned large worried eyes to the teen. “Does, does…” he paused as if to search for how to ask the question in mixed company. “Does your new guardian know all of this?”

Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore knows.”

The new DADA professor frowned. “Somehow I don’t think that translates to the rest of the staff knowing. At least not the complete details or I imagine you’d be wrapped in cotton wool and hidden away. The man’s clearly paranoid about your safety.”

The others in the compartment look at each other confused but Harry just smiled. “He’s not so bad.”

Lupin, clearly unsure what to make of any of this, just shook his head. He started to say something else but the train lurched to a sudden stop. “It’s too early for Hogsmeade.” The professor observed and stood from his seat, his hand going towards his wand. The light in the cabin started to dim. “Stay here. I need to see what is going on.” Lupin advised and began to move towards the door. The air turned suddenly inexplicably cold, so cold their breath appeared.

Before Lupin could make it to the door, the handle turned and a figure cloaked in black and seeming to float filled the doorway. Harry didn’t get a good look at it before his vision was filled with mist and shadow, there was a scream, a flash of green light…

“Harry,” Lupin’s voice was soft and gentle, and Harry could feel the man’s warmth behind him, like he was leaning against him. “Harry, pup, you need to wake up now.”

Harry blinked, his eyes trying to focus. His glasses were slipped onto his face. The first thing he saw was the worried face of Snape hovering in front of him. “What happened?” He managed to choke out. Lupin shifted slightly behind him and a chocolate bar was thrust into his hand.

“Eat.” Lupin advised, running his hands quickly up and down Harry’s arms as if to increase the blood flow. “You gave us quite the scare.”

Harry looked to Severus who nodded before he took a bite of the chocolate. “What happened?”

“Dementors.” The potion master explained in a tight voice. “They stopped the train to search for Black. For some reason you had a terrible reaction to them.”

“I apparated us to the gates of Hogwarts,” Lupin explained, “as soon as the train was clear of them. Neville had a bad reaction as well but not nearly to your level. I sent Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster back to see to the rest.”

Harry blinked and took in his surroundings. “Where am I?” He was laying on a leather sofa of some kind in front of a large fire, with Lupin almost cradling him in his lap.

“My quarters.” Snape pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out over Harry. “Snuffles is out exploring with Hagrid or he’d be all over you.”

“Oh.” Harry blushed slightly and took another bite of chocolate. “Why is it freezing in here?”

“It’s not.” Lupin went back to rubbing his arms. “The dementors have that effect on people. The chocolate should help.”

“Who screamed?” Harry asked, stuffing another chunk of the chocolate into his mouth. If it helped he’d eat a ton of it – he couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

Severus froze, his hand hovering over another blanket he’d summoned. “You heard a scream?”

“And there was a flash of green before I passed out.”

The two wizards exchanged a look. “No one screamed.” Lupin admitted, his voice strained. “The dementors, Harry they…”

“They force you to relive your worst memories.” Snape held his gaze and Harry saw the pain in the dark eyes. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

His stomach rolled. “That, that was a memory? So that light…” He had to force the bile back from his throat. “Mum…” He took a shuddering breath. “That’s not fair.” He knew it sounded petty but as the moment stretched he didn’t care. “That’s… that’s just not fair! The only thing I remember about my mother is her dying scream?” Harry knew there were tears gathering in his eyes. “That’s, that’s just not fair!”

“No, it is not.” Snape admitted, moving to sit against Harry’s legs, his warm hands settling on his ankles as he tucked the second blanket around him. “And we will correct that as soon as we can. I’ll borrow the headmaster’s pensive and Lupin and I, we’ll share memories with you, so you have better ones. Of your father as well. I’ll even talk to Minerva. She was their head of house, I’m sure she can share a few as well.”

“What’s a pensive?”

Snape smiled softly. “It will let you relive our memories as if you were there. Like a muggle television but you get to be inside it.”

“Oh.” Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. “So I could get to see my mum? Like see her alive, in your memory?”

“Exactly as she was.” Snape promised. “But first finish that chocolate and let’s get you warmed up. The feast will be starting shortly. Will you feel up to it?”

“No but if I don’t go the others will make a huge deal out of it.” Harry sighed and nibbled more on his chocolate. “How long until the cold goes away?”

Lupin, still rubbing his arms, gave a soft sigh. “No idea, Harry. That dementor got much closer to you than I’ve ever heard of them doing when they weren’t about to… well, that’s a conversation for another time.”

“Did you drive it away?” Harry asked, turning to look at his steward.

“I cast a patronus, yes.” Lupin chuckled slightly at the expression on the boy’s face. “I take it you’d like to know how to do that?”

“Given my track record with dangerous things, if they are out looking for Black, and Black’s looking for me, then they are likely to be around me, and I don’t think I want to be unprotected.”
“He does have moments of logic.” Snape joked, standing up and going over to put another log on the fire. “Stay here, Harry. Warm up. I’ll go frighten the death out of your friends and tell them some rubbish about you causing trouble on the train and being given special treatment against my wishes. They’ll be too mad at me to cause you any grief.”

“You enjoy doing that don’t you?” Harry realized with a start. “Tormenting them amuses you!”

“Weasley is delightfully easy to rile.” Snape admitted with a smirk.

“Slytherins never change.” Lupin chuckled and rested back against the arm of the couch. “Can you at least send some food down here for us?”

“Oh, no. You have to go up with me. The new defense professor is always announced at the feast.” Snape looked slightly gleeful now. “In front of everyone.”

Lupin, a distressed expression on his face, slowly stood. “Who will stay with Harry?”

“Oh I’m fine.” Harry fluffed the blankets over his legs and smirked at them both. “Go on now- go hang out with all the people in the crowded hall. I’ll stay here, eat chocolate, take a nap.”

“He’s rubbing off on you.” Lupin accused, with a slight twinkle in his eye. “I’ll have the elves get you some food.”

“Thank you.” Harry leaned back and tried not to let how badly he was shivering be visible. “Now go on. I’m perfectly fine now.”

Snape, clearly not believing him, just shook his head. “Come on Lupin, the sooner we make an appearance the sooner I can return here and keep an eye on him.”

Once the two professors left, Harry huddled down into the blankets even further, pulling them up to his chin. He could hear echoes still, of that lingering scream, and something told him he’d never get that shade of green out from behind his eyelids. There was a shuffle by the door and Harry turned to see it creak open and Snuffles crept in, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The dog apparently realized something was the matter as soon as he saw Harry and moved quickly to climb up on the sofa to lay almost on top of the boy.

“For the record, Snuffles, I hate dementors.” Harry complained. The dog gave a whine and buried his nose in blankets. “Be glad you weren’t on the train. At least one got on and if it wasn’t for Prof. Lupin driving it off…” Harry shivered violently. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel warm.” Harry turned slightly to curl more around the dog and pulled the blanket up over his head.

He didn’t sleep, but he did lose track of time, and was slightly startled when the door opened again. He was just about to pull the blanket down to see who it was when the voice of the headmaster stopped him.

“Where is he?” The headmaster asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

“Asleep on the couch with the dog.” Snape replied, and Harry could almost feel where the man was as he moved around the furniture to put more wood on the fire. “Poppy was by earlier to look at him, before he woke. She said it was fine to keep him here. She’s got five others in the hospital wing and could use the help.”

“It isn’t proper to have a student in your quarters.”

Harry could almost hear the sneer in Snape’s voice when he replied. “Really, Albus, the boy lives with me during the summer and the holidays. If I had ill intentions I would have hardly waited to act on them until now.” Snape’s robes brushed against the blankets as he stalked past Harry. “His friends know he is safe and being cared for, if not the details of who, I suspect they believe it to be Lupin. He may as well stay the evening here. My quarters are warmer then the dormitories.”

“Severus, I realize you take matters of sanctuary seriously,” Albus started to argue but was cut off by a loud huff rom the potion master.

“Sanctuary is one of the fundamental principles of our society. Of course I take it seriously! What I take even more seriously is the fact that I had to extend it at all! What was that boy ever doing with the likes of Petunia Dursley? Why did you even insist on him being on the train to begin with today? It would have been safer if he came directly here. Seeing as I was also traveling right to Hogwarts it would have made more sense to just bring him with me, and it would have made the train less of a target for Black or the dementors.”

“Harry deserves to experience a normal childhood.” Albus argued back.

Snape snorted. “Harry deserves to survive his childhood. There’s nothing normal about the boy, or his life so far, and I highly doubt either of those is going to change no matter how much he desires otherwise. To pretend he is not the target that he is, to try and manufacture some sort of illusion of normalcy in the face of this unending cold war we find ourselves in is ridiculous. The Dark Lord will return, and that child is going to be a main target no matter what we do. Shuttling him off to muggles that hate him and then putting his life in danger whenever he tries to return to the only place he feels safe – a place where so far his life has been in danger at least three times that I know of so far in the two years he has spent here – is the height of stupidity.”

“There’s no reason to be insulting, Severus.”

“I disagree. Now is the perfect time to be insulting. I find that to be the case whenever I’m faced with the rabid idiocy of my fellow man.”

Albus ignored that in favor of returning to his argument. “It is imperative that Harry spends his summers with his aunt. It’s for his own safety.”

“Well then it is a very good thing that you no longer have a say in it, since that will not be happening.” Snape moved back towards the door and yanked it open. “And he’s not leaving my sight until morning. You may not take his safety seriously but I do. This argument is closed.”

“Severus,”

“Lord Prince when we are discussing matters of my House, of which Sanctuary is a fundamental one.” Severus ground out. “Furthermore, if you wish to continue to badger me over it, I will be forced to bring the matter to the attention of the Wizengamot.”

The Headmaster drew in a sharp breath. “Severus, you cannot…”

“I can and I will. I’ll sacrifice all our plans, toss out the last decade of work, because it won’t matter if the muggles starve him to death before the Dark Lord has even recovered his body.” Snuffles whined and buried his nose deeper into Harry’s side. “Now the matter is closed and I am off duty for the evening and wish to retire. Goodnight.” Severus slammed the door shut with finality and Harry heard him mutter something, a flash of magic filling the room.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep.” Severus’ amused voice started Harry. “I’ve warded the door. It will take Albus at least till morning to break that down. It’s Family Magic.”

Harry lowered the blanket to peer up at the Professor. “Family magic?”

Snape sat down heavily in the chair across from the couch. “Every old family has a list of spells that they have created that are specifically attuned to the hereditary magic that runs through their line. Think of it like muggle genetics – parents pass on their DNA to their children, so do parents pass on their magic. Of course people that aren’t blood relatives can almost always learn spells that are attuned to another’s family magic, but they will never work quite as well as they would for someone of the same blood. As such, families closely guard their spell grimoires. The Prince family was particularly fond of complex warding schemes. Albus, thankfully, has never been good with raising or breaking wards. He’s more the battle magic type than the infiltration or protection wizard.”

“Oh.” Harry sat up as Snuffles pulled away enough to allow him to. “So the Potters used to have something like that?”

“I’m sure they do. It’s probably locked in one of the vaults you haven’t been allowed access to yet.” Snape eyed the table that was covered in untouched food. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

“Not terribly hungry.” Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’m sorry I’m causing you to fight with the headmaster.”

“Don’t.” Snape reached out as if he wanted to touch Harry but then stopped, his hand falling onto his lap. “Albus does want what is best for you – he does care about you. He’s just blinded by what he sees as necessary and he’s not listening to any of us. I’m not the only one arguing with him about your care. Minerva has given him a earful several times that I know of. Filius too. Hagrid cried in his office after he picked you up first year, begged the headmaster to let you live at Hogwarts. I didn’t know the others had been arguing your case until today. Word spread quickly amongst the staff that I was insisting on caring for you and they quickly offered their support.”

Harry hung his head. “But won’t this affect your spying?”

“To hell with my spying. What’s the point of me retaining my ability to go back to the Dark Lord if you suffer in the mean time? If you are as critical to the war as Albus believes than its best if you reach adulthood without having more reason to join the Dark Lord than fight him.”

Harry was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. Spying sounds dangerous. But I also don’t want to be the cause of us losing the war.”

“We are all in danger, Harry. I won’t lie to you. It’s doubtful I will survive the coming conflict no matter what course we take.” Snape leaned forward and this time he risked a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But I swear to you that I won’t go down easily, and I will never leave you willingly. I will not abandon you.”

Harry couldn’t fight the tears that sprang up in his eyes. “You’re the closest thing I have to a parent, Severus. I can’t lose you too.”

Severus pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t think I could care any more about you if you were my son, Harry. I’m so sorry you are in the position you are in. But you are not alone, never alone.”

“I just want to be Harry, just Harry. I don’t want any of this.”

“I know.” Severus rested his head on the boy’s and just held him. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Harry was one of the first students to breakfast the next morning, wanting to get all the questions over with. Inevitability, the entire school was aware that he’d fainted on the train, and had to spend the night in observation, although thankfully most assumed he’d done so in the hospital wing. The other five students who had been impacted by the dementors were also there, looking shaky and pale, and disinclined to talk about what happened, so it took some of the pressure off of Harry. One of them, a little first year witch, had to be sorted at breakfast since she missed the feast. Harry felt particularly bad for her as the hat called out Slytherin loudly and she had to blink back tears as she shuffled her way slowly to the table only to have the others sneer at her. Snape, seeing what was happening, made it a point to glare at them until Draco Malfoy stood up and moved his plate over to her. Perhaps there was some slight hope for the ferret yet.

Neville and Hermione showed up fairly early as well and took up positions on either side of him to try and block some of the attention he was receiving, Colin Creevy took up the seat directly opposite him, his little brother next to him. Their cheerful chatter was a good distraction and when Ron and the twins joined them a few minutes later Harry was able to at least eat his toast while they kept the conversation going. Millicent kept glancing up at him from the Slytherin table but she made no other move towards him, her worried eyes just kept flickering between him and the rest of her house as if she wanted to do something but knew she couldn’t. Harry gave a small shake of his head to tell her to stay put. It wasn’t worth it.

McGonagall gave out the schedules and Harry glanced at his. Double defense was first, thankfully, which meant Lupin. Hermione pushed her empty plate away and stood up as soon as she’d read over the timetable. “Well, we’d best head to the tower and get your books, Harry. I’ll walk with you so you know the password.”

Ron, still eating his breakfast, made to stand up as well but Harry waved him off. “Finish your breakfast, Ron.” Harry gave him a tired smile. “I’ll grab your books for you and meet at the classroom, alright?”

“Thanks Harry!” Ron smiled at him and then gave him a serious look. “You alright?”

“Mostly.” Harry answered truthfully. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to get to class.”

Remus seemed a competent teacher, Harry was happy to discover, even if the review session he’d planned for the first day was rather disappointing. Apparently there were international standards for Defense education, for all the courses actually, and while Hogwarts never gave them the standardized tests the rest of the ICW used, the OWLS and the NEWTS were based on them. After getting a look at the material expected for a second year it was pretty clear they were all very underprepared. It was third year and many of them couldn’t even rate a passing grade for first!

Hermione was muttering creative expletives under her breath the entire way to charms.

“Oy,” Ron complained with a grimace. “You actually passed the second year material. I don’t know what’s got you so upset.”

“My education isn’t something I take lightly, Ronald.” Hermione huffed. “This is my future we are talking about! I’ve always planned to sit the international tests after Hogwarts, not just the British versions, and I knew they were harder and I was doing my best to independently study for them but the sheer gap between the standards being employed here and what I saw on that review practice test was insane. Is it like that for every subject or just Defense? Hogwarts markets itself as the premiere institution for magical education in Europe and I’m starting to question the validity of that claim.”

“Don’t make more work for us.” Ron moaned. “Nobody takes those international tests unless they want to work for the ICW – they are bloody hard. Bill sat them after Gringotts hired him and he swore his brain almost liquefied and dripped out his ears. He had to do a bunch of remedial courses and then re-sit them before they’d let his apprenticeship start.”

That was the wrong thing to tell Hermione. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes. “I need a good education. I can’t, I can’t do this without it. I won’t put up with having less.” She finally managed to warble out, her voice breaking on every other word. “Being muggleborn is bad enough, it closes enough doors, I can’t let a subpar education do even more damage to my prospects.”

“I can ask Remus for the practice tests to the other subjects.” Harry offered. “We can see how bad the problem is before we panic. I mean, other than Defense all the teachers seem to know what they are doing. And we caught this early so we have time to figure out a plan. Or where to transfer to.”

Hermione’s breath slowed slightly. “You are right, Harry. Let’s see how bad it is before we panic.”

“Who’s panicking?” Ron complained as he set down his bag. “What does it matter if the international tests are harder? Just sit the NEWTS like any sane witch and be done with it.”

“Oh, Mr. Weasley, there’s reason enough to take the international panel.” Flitwick informed them, having been listening to the conversation as they walked into his classroom. “Most people with subject masteries do – the apprentice programs for most of the Guild’s require it. You also need them to work outside Britain. Even the United States has signed onto their use. Britain and the Middle Eastern cohort are the only ones that have not.”

“So all the other classes here are taught to that standard?” Hermione asked hopefully.

Flitwick shook his head. “Sadly no. Because Britain lacks a primary school system for magical children there’s a lot of remedial education that goes into the first three years here. We make up for what we can during the 4th-5th years, and try to get as much crammed into 6th and 7th as possible but we usually recommend at least a year of extra study between graduation and sitting for the internationals. I can have study packets made up that cover the weak points if you’d like to see them. I usually hand them out to my Ravenclaws after their OWLS.”

“Yes.” Hermione nodded vigorously. “Please, we’d like to see them. I can’t abide the thought of being behind.”

Ron, looking bewildered, shook his head. “Leave me out of this.”

“I’d like them.” Harry stated with a grim expression. “I want to know the scope of what’s expected.”

Flitwick looked pleased. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. I expect both of you will do just fine on the internationals for Charms. While I don’t cover all the material you both have a good solid basis. You’ll just need to pick up the extra spells and I have full confidence you can. Hogwarts might not give you the spell repertoire of the other schools, but we give you a much better theoretical foundation and that, I promise you, is better in the long run.”

“See, nothing to worry about.” Ron complained. “No reason to get excited.”

Hermione, turning purple, moved to a different table. Flitwick just shook his head. “Mr. Weasley, a piece of advice. If you wish to remain friends with a witch, do not discount something they consider important as trivial.” The little man turned away to start the lesson.

Later that night Harry met with Millicent in their greenhouse. “Are you okay?” She asked, quickly, her hands running up and down his arms as if checking for injury.

“Yeah,” Harry blushed slightly and then took her hands in his own to stop her fretting. “Really, I’m okay. I think Severus had me stay with him more for his own peace of mind than mine.”

Millicent didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know why you attract trouble. I can’t even be mad at you – you were just sitting in your compartment minding your own business and the living embodiment of depression decides to try and eat your soul.”

“That’s a little melodramatic, Millie.”

“That’s the truth!” She huffed and then pulled him down onto her transfigured pile of pillows in the corner. “There’s a betting pool on what life threatening situation will land you in the infirmary at the end of term. The consensus seems to be something to do with Black. Personally, I figure a dragon.”

“I had a dragon thing first year – not a life threatening situation at all.” Harry laughed and reached into his pocket. “Put five gallons on random Death Eater for me would you? With an extra side of dementor.”

“Potter, that’s mental.” Millicent complained but took the money. “Not sure how you can joke about it let alone bet on it.” She sighed heavily and leaned against him. “It’s just not fair, us having to be so secretive all the time.”

Harry put his arm around her and drew her closer. “I wish I could just plop down next to you in the Great Hall and have a nice meal, chat. I wish I could sit with you during Quidditch games when I’m not playing, and be your potion’s partner. We could have tea on the lawn in good weather and huddle up by the fire in one of our common rooms when it wasn’t.”

“Study in the library together and practice spells in empty classrooms with your friends. Granger could point out everything we do wrong and set all our study schedules so we don’t have to.” Millicent smiled wistfully. “I could visit you in the summer without having to be all cloak and dagger.”

“I could get to know your parents, everyone could come to my birthday party. The Weasleys could go overboard and your cousin could make out with Charlie in the shed.”

“Harry!” Millicent laughed.

Harry grinned. “We could pit you against the twins in a beaters game, pretty sure Ginny would partner with you. It would be great.”

“It would.” Millicent’s smile died. “If we could do any of it at all.”

“It’s not safe.” Harry reminded her gently. “I don’t want you or your family to have it even worse because of me.”

Millicent closed her eyes as she buried further into the pillows and Harry’s side. “Would it be worse? I’m not so sure. I have no friends, Harry, not a single one but you. Da can’t get work, at least nothing legal, and mum is only alive because of you and the professor. Magnus ekes out a living collecting dangerous potions ingredients in the wild, most of it black market. We aren’t welcome in most shops in Diagon Alley. St. Mungos won’t treat us. The village gets attacked by one hate group or another every couple years and they burn down whatever they can. What do we really have to lose?”

That was a question that plagued Harry all through the next day. It kept leaping back up in his mind and it ate at him. Ron, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice how distracted Harry was, but Hermione, bless her overly observant soul took notice. She cornered him in the common room after dinner. Most of the rest of the house was out either in the library or lingering over their dessert in the Great Hall. Harry, not feeling up to the start of the year joviality, had grabbed a simple tart and left. Hermione must have followed him.

“Alright, spill.” She advised, plopping down into the chair opposite him. They were tucked into one of the corners, and the only other person in the room was a seventh year, nose buried in their books on the far side.

Harry sighed. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” He glanced up at Hermione and then back down. “What you said yesterday, about it being hard for muggleborns, it’s, it’s not something we really talk about. And it’s pretty bad for anyone with creature blood too – nobody talks about it but you can tell, you know? In the silences, in what nobody does say. Flitwick and Hagrid, they should be able to talk about their families, and stuff. And they can’t.”

“Oh Harry.” Hermione shook her head, a fond, tired smile twitching on her lips. “You just now noticing all of that?”

“No,” Harry rubbed his eyes. “I noticed it, but I didn’t want to notice it, if you know what I mean? The Dursleys were so terrible, and getting to come here, getting to learn magic, I wanted it to be magical, you know? Like, like it could be perfect, a complete opposite of where I grew up. Like all the bad was in the muggle world, and this world could be everything that one wasn’t. But all the same stuff is here too, all the hatred and bigotry and ignorance… I wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, so I could keep my perfect magical little bubble but I can’t.”

“I don’t think Ron sees any of it.” Hermione admitted, her voice strained. “Like he notices when I’m called a name, but all the little slights, I think they just breeze right past him. Massive pureblood privilege.”

Harry chuckled darkly. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I let myself be so willfully ignorant. I just, I never meant to hurt you.”

“You never have.” Hermione reached out and took his hand in hers, their fingers curling together. “You’d never think less of me, or less of Professor Flitwick, or Hagrid, anybody else. One day, when you take your place in that stuffy Pureblood world your father was from, you’ll do what you can to fix it. I know you, Harry. You can’t stand a bully and those bastards are bullies.”

Harry hesitated a moment, clutching her hand a little tighter. “Would you be upset if you found I had another friend? Someone, someone people wouldn’t…”

“If you are talking about Millicent Bulstrode I’m well aware.” Hermione’s eye’s twinkled in amusement. “You two are hardly the most subtle. She keeps looking at you with this pinched worried look in her eyes and you never relax till you can spot her safe and sound in the Great Hall at every meal.”

“Oh.” Harry blushed scarlet. “I, I hope nobody else noticed.”

Hermione snorted. “Those Slytherins don’t pay her any attention at all. Doubt they’d notice if she burst into flames unless it caught them on fire. One or two of the older one’s might have pieced it together but they clearly don’t think there’s anything in for them to point it out. Ron, let’s face it, he won’t notice anything until he walks in on you two naked in the same bed.”

“Hermione!”

She smirked. “Oh don’t even pretend that’s not where it’s heading. We’re thirteen not three.”

“You, you seem okay with it?”

Hermione patted his hand and let it go, leaning back into her chair. “I’d like to meet her, if she’s okay with it. We used to do some revising together in first year but then drifted apart. It would be nice to have another female to temper you and Ron.”

“We have to be secret about it. Her family, they might be in danger…” Harry sighed. “They are already in danger. Millie said, she said there’s been attacks on her village before. Because they have some many people with creature blood living there.”

“That’s terrible.” Hermione shuddered. “That’s just… and the Ministry doesn’t’ do anything?”

“They probably participate.” Harry muttered, his eyes flashing in anger. “We’ve got to do something about it, Hermione. I can’t, I just can’t…”

She nodded silently and then turned to look into the flames in the fireplace, a dark look in her own eye.

Chapter Text

The first Sunday rolled around without further incident and Harry made his way cautiously down to the potion’s classroom. Severus had said to meet him there for extra lessons with Millie.

The room was dark when he arrived but Harry kept his cloak on until Millie slipped inside. “Harry?” She asked, a little hesitantly, and he took it off with a frown.

“Where’s Professor Snape?”

“Waiting on you.” The professor’s voice made them both jump. They turned to find him standing in a shadowed corner a smirk on his face. “Can you both fit under the cloak?”

“Yes.” Harry held it up and motioned Millie forward, carefully arranging it around them. Snape brandished his wand and put a silencing charm on their feet.

“Follow me.” He swept out of the room and down the corridor towards his personal quarters. Rather than take the right hand turn that Harry knew lead to the man’s rooms they took a left and then down another long dark hallway. The door at the far end was blackened with age and had a large lock on it. Rather than that one, they instead went to a more modern door next to it, with a simple standard looking lock that appeared like all the rest down the corridor. Severus pulled the key out from his robes and unlocked it, ushering them inside.

“The other door is a diversion isn’t it?” Harry asked with a smile as he whipped off the cloak.

Severus just smirked instead of answering. “This is my private lab. We’ll meet here each Sunday. It’s more warded than the classroom and we won’t be interrupted. Millicent may arrive without the cloak, no one will question me giving extra lessons to one of my Slytherins, but Harry you’ll need to make your way here under stealth.”

Millicent looked around the room with wide eyes. “This is magnificent.”

“Not quite as well done as my home lab.” Severus admitted. “I haven’t as much time to experiment during the school year so I leave a great deal of the less used equipment behind unless I’m planning something specific. This is really just the fundamentals.”

Fundamentals apparently meant at least one cauldron of each size and material all lined up on one wall. The doorway to what had to be the ingredients cupboard was shimmering with wards and the five tables that made up the bulk of the space were gleamingly clean in the light of the candles Snape lite. Where the potion’s classroom was dark and gloomy, often filled with smoke and fumes, everything slightly yellow with residue and time, this lab was white washed and sterile.

“Now, before we get started, I think it best if we have a little conversation about the fundamentals.” Snape went to the warded cupboard and returned with a tray of ingredients. “I think what’s hampering you both is a lack of understanding of a few of the base skills. This is how you crush and this is how you powder…” Snape set about demonstrating and having them copy out the method for the next two hours. It was not the most exciting of lessons but it did explain why Harry’s potions were always off just the slightest bit. He hadn’t been preparing anything right!

“How come we don’t do this in class?” Millie asked, as they were cleaning up. “That was really helpful.”

Snape hesitated for a moment before sighing. “I wanted to include an entire month worth of prep lessons before we ever brewed a potion but the school budget won’t allow for the extra ingredients and I couldn’t in good conscious ask the students to bring them. Even the cheapest ingredients would be a burden on some families and it takes quite a lot to practice with. Thankfully I needed these ingredients prepared for the infirmary potions so they’ll be used before they expire. But I couldn’t possibly use up what an entire first year class would be prepping.”

“Why don’t you use kitchen ingredients?” Harry proposed, scrapping the last of the trash into the bin before starting to sterilize the table. “I mean, you can practice all day on chopping onions and potatoes and the house-elves could just use the results for soup or something.”

Millie and Snape froze. “That’s….” Millicent started to say and then shook her head.

Snape finally broke his silence. “Potter, there are times you annoy the hell out of me. Usually when you are right.”

Harry grinned, ignoring the slight gibe “See, I keep thinking potions is like really fancy cooking. And it is, really, with extra bits here or there. Makes sense to use whatever is cheaper for practice. The Dursleys never asked me to do anything fancy but I’ve been trying to figure out how to julienne veg all summer at your place and you never noticed or complained about it.”

“Because you always ended up cooking the experiments.” Snape nodded along. “Yes, that does explain all the stews I suppose… but you managed it by the end. And that skill will help you with potions. I’ll have a chat with the elves.”

Harry and Millie finished cleaning, chatting amicably and just generally enjoying being in each other’s company without the fear of discovery. When they finished, Snape checked the hall. “You’re in the clear, Ms. Bulstrode. Off to the common room. We’ll see you here again next Sunday, same time?”

Millie nodded and slide out of the room. Snape and Harry waited so they wouldn’t all be seen leaving together “Sir,” Harry started and then stopped.

“Go on.” Snape offered.

“I know it’s close to curfew, but I haven’t seen Snuffles all week…”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Get under the cloak then.”

Snuffles was enthusiastic, to say the least, and started barking and jumping around as soon as Harry entered the potion master’s quarters, clearly able to smell Harry through the cloak. “Hey boy,” Harry knelt down, pulling the cloak off as he did, and opened his arms for the excited dog. “How is it living at Hogwarts?”

“He’s peed twice on my rug.” Snape groused and the dog looked slightly smug. Harry raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “I did perhaps forget to let him out.” Snape admitted after a long look. “I’m having the elves take him out twice a day now while I’m in class.”

“Good.” Harry rubbed the dog’s ears. “He’s starting to put on more weight, and look like a normal dog.”

“Starvation takes time to heal.” Snape replied back, his dark eyes going up and down Harry’s form. “How are you finding things?”

Harry pulled himself up off the floor and over to the sofa, Snuffles coming with him to lie at his feet. “It’s weird, being back. Ron’s the same old Ron, but Neville, he’s… he’s acting a bit different. I think he thought I was snubbing him or something. He found out on the train that I hadn’t even known that there was a House of Potter. Apparently there’s some sort of long standing agreement between his House and mine and I had no idea. And his gran was trying to get custody of me, his mum was my godmother! So when I didn’t say anything first year he thought I was saying I didn’t think him worthy or something. He’s got self-esteem issues.”

Snape snorted. “That boy has so much potential if he would just apply it.”

“He’s always scared.” Harry admitted, hand curling into Snuffle’s hair. “His great uncle is awful to him. He was always doing nasty things to try and force Neville’s magic out and his gran let it happen. Neville’s convinced the entire family just wants him to die or something so his cousin can take the Lordship. I don’t think he can relax at home at all.”

Snape’s dark eyes glittered slightly in the lamplight. “I hear stories like that mostly from Slytherin families.”

“Pretty sure Slytherin doesn’t have the market on asshole cornered.” Harry muttered, thinking about some Hufflepuff’s and how they’d treated him last year. “And Neville’s family is as old and pureblood as any of that lot. Stands to reason they’d share some of the same ideas if only because they’ve all been inbreeding for so long.”

Snuffles coughed loudly and Harry spent a moment fussing over him. When his attention turned back to the professor it was to find the man eyeing him with a great deal of contemplation. “What?” Harry asked.

“I’m trying to imagine what it is going to be like when you take your hereditary seat in the Wizengamot. It will be glorious.” Snape took a sip of his tea. “You are going to tear into that crowd like a vengeful lion aren’t you?”

Harry’s eyes flickered to the fire. “I’m tired of learning that all my friends are being hurt by this world, Professor. I’m tired of seeing Millie shunned for no good reason, Hermione worrying she won’t get any apprenticeship offers no matter how hard she studies, or Neville nearly being disowned just because his uncle thinks he doesn’t have enough magic. Voldemort isn’t the problem in the wizarding world, he’s a symptom of the real issue. And I have no idea how to fix that.”

“You’ve got years before you need to worry about it. Enjoy the time you have now, Harry, before you take on the entire wizarding world.”

“Not sure they are going to give me a choice, professor. Not sure I want them to either.” Snuffles made a loud whine and pushed is head into Harry’s knee. “But, I don’t think I’ll be alone.” Harry admitted softly, absentmindedly petting the dog. “I think there’s a lot of folks just as unhappy about things as me.”

“Don’t let people hear you talking like that, Harry.” Snape advised gently. “It sounds like revolution. It makes people uncomfortable. The Ministry is already watching you. After last year, and the Parseltongue…”

“You don’t need to be Dark Lord to change things do you?” Harry joked, still paying more attention to the dog than the potion master

When Snape didn’t answer Harry turned to look at him. The man looked grim as he met his eyes. “I think that is a question we do not have an answer to.” He admitted tightly. “Most Dark Lords don’t start out that way, Harry. They try to do things differently and eventually out of frustration they end up what they are. You should ask Dumbledore about Grindelwald sometime. He wasn’t always what he became.”

“Grindelwald? Or Dumbledore?”

Snape just shook his head. “I heard a rumor today and I think you’d best prepare for it.” He was clearly trying to change the subject. Harry let him and gave a nod for him to go on. “Lupin has found a boggart in the staff lounge. He intends to show it to your class. I’m slightly concerned.”

They talked for a while after that, Harry’s mind going over and over what exactly his boggart might be. For a moment he thought it could be something to do with Ron and Hermione, perhaps something bad happening to them? Or Millie, Merlin the idea of Millie hurt, because of her association to him. Even the idea of Snape, being exposed and hurt because of him all flashed through his mind. But there was something darker lurking under all that and Harry swallowed his tea as if it was cement, the realization hitting him like a truck, a common thread through all his concerns. “I think,” He finally admitted in a tight voice, “I think it’ll have something to do with people getting hurt… because of me. To protect me.”

Snape had thought perhaps Voldemort, or even the dementors from the train. There was something extra pained in his expression as he looked at the boy. “You don’t have to face it. We can tell Lupin not to do the lesson.”

“It’s a good lesson, in theory.” Harry considered what Millie’s might be. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to have us all face it as a group. Fears are personal.”

“The staff discussed it and most felt you were too young to have any real pressing terrors.”

Harry snorted “Yeah, I wish.” Snuffles made another whine, a longer one this time, and Harry buried his face in the soft warm fur of the dog’s neck. “I’ll manage, Severus. I always do.”

The next day dawned clear and crisp, the autumn having settled with all its damp glory on the Scottish countryside. The castle was damp in this weather, in most weather actually, and Harry was grateful to have finally purchased some much needed wool socks. He’d always been afraid to buy nice things when he lived with the Dursleys, not wanting them to suspect he had any money stashed away. Ron was making due with his slightly too short robes and Harry felt a pang of guilt that he couldn’t do more for his friend. But if he tried to buy Ron new robes the redhead would get angry and Harry did not want him to feel like he was somehow less just because the Weasleys didn’t have a lot of money to spare. Harry would give everything he owned to have a real proper family like Ron had.

Defense was a double and Harry braced himself as they walked into the room. He hadn’t wanted to worry anyone, so he hadn’t told them about the boggart. Hopefully Snape had managed to talk Lupin into a slight change to his lesson plans.

“Good morning!” Lupin called, cheerfully stepping up to the front of the room. “Please keep your books and wands away. I have something special for you today. Follow me!” He started off out of the room and Harry and the rest followed. Hermione was cheerfully pondering what they could be doing, and where they were going, and Harry had to swallow heavily not to say something to give away how nervous he was for what had to be coming. Ron, seeming to realize that Harry wasn’t his usual self, loyally kept their bushy haired friend entertained while Neville sidled up to Harry’s side like the silent slightly chubby pillar of support that he was turning out to be.

Lupin took them to the staff room. The only person inside was Severus, who sneered with his typical I’m-in-the-company-of-children-whose-parents-like-white-masks-and-Potter-is-in-the-room smile. It was bone chilling. Harry really rather wanted to applaud the acting. “Lupin,” Snape drawled, stalking towards the DADA professor. “You sure you want to do this lesson with this lot? Longbottom there is more likely to injure himself than actually manage anything.”

That was apparently a step too far, and Snape knew if it the slight tightening around his eyes was anything. Harry suspected that most of the really cruel things Snape said happened in the throes of him acting, like lines getting away from him. He was learning to tell when Snape regretted one of his barbs, and when he thought they were funny. It was all in his eyes, the subtle movements just at the corners.

The lesson passed in something of a blur. Lupin, apparently taking Snape’s suggestion personally, used Neville to conduct the opening part of the lesson. Watching Snape turn into an odd mishmash of Neville’s gran and the potion master was not as funny as it probably would have been last year. Harry barely managed to laugh with the rest even though it was fake. Hermione gave him an odd look, clearly recognizing how out of it he was, but she made no comment. Neville looked so proud of himself that Harry tried to muster up some sort of supportive smile, which must have worked because Neville moved back to his side with a genuine smile on his own face.

Once the laughter died down, Lupin had them all line up. Harry’s heart sank when it looked like they were all going to face the boggart one by one in front of everyone but then, something in his face must have tipped off Lupin because the man hesitated, his amber colored eyes boring into Harry’s. “Anybody that wants to face the boggart, move to the front of the line.” Lupin finally instructed and Harry was able to wiggle his way to the back of the line and watch as Ron turned a spider’s feet into roller skates and as Hermione fended of McGonagall with what was apparently a stack of failed exams. There were a few looks, everyone clearly wondering why he wasn't going to the front of the line like he usually does, but Harry let them wonder.

By the time the lesson was over Harry and Lavender were the only two who didn’t have a go. “You two, if you’d like to try alone please stay after.” Lupin whispered to them both and then dismissed the class. Lavender was gone in a flash but Harry stayed.

“You won’t tell anyone?” Harry asked. “Please?”

“Stewarts honor.” Lupin’s eyes were surprisingly gentle as he spoke. “Severus said this would be hard for you.” The man paused, as if considering what to say for a long moment. “You’ve had enough things in your life that can cause fear.”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

Whatever Lupin had expected the boggart to become it was clearly not the sucking emptiness that took hold of the staff room. The inky darkness spread out from the cupboard like slow moving mist, a silence born of death, the absolute absence of life trailing with it. As it passed over the floor of the room shapes started to form from the mist, bodies strewn over the ground in heaps and piles. A hint of red hair there, a dark black professor’s cloak next to it. A rumbled and broken mound of black fur, a hand clutching Millie’s wand but not attached to a body next to it. The sight stretched out as far as the eye could see, an endless battlefield of death and pain, not a soul left to even mourn the fallen.

They died for you. A raspy voice breathed out into the mist and Harry shivered, recognizing the Parseltongue voice of Voldemort. They wanted to save you and this is what your friendship has reaped. You are no better than I am, Harry Potter. The mist shuddered as it stopped, just shy of touching Harry’s feet. In the swirling mass was one last body, Tom Riddle from the diary flickering between his 16 year old self and the mess that had been attached to the back of Quirrell’s head. But the worst part was that Voldemort too was dead, sightless eyes staring up at Harry in accusation. You’ve killed us all, enemy and friend alike. You took the power, Potter, as I knew you would.

“Riddikulus,” Harry stuttered out, wand shaking in his hand. The mist lurched slightly but kept its shape, the bodies unmoving.

Lupin was staring at the sight from the far side of the room, still holding open the cupboard door. The shock was palpable on his face and he made no move to help. The mist was curling near his toes too and that was what finally pushed Harry to action.

“Riddikulus!” Harry shouted with all his might, trying desperately to think of something funny about the devastation in front of him. The only thing he could come up with was a scene from an old movie they’d watched in his muggle school as a treat. It wasn’t funny exactly, but the sea of red flowers that grew up suddenly around the bodies and the golden road that weaved through them was at least tied to something amusing. The Dursley’s had been apoplectic with rage when they found out that their son Dudley had watched a movie with a wizard in it.

It wasn’t the best spell he’d ever cast, but it was enough to give the boggart a nudge, and that was enough to snap Lupin out of his shock. His spell combined with Harry’s and soon enough the boggart was pushed back into the cupboard and the door slammed. Lupin leaned against it heavily and Harry felt his knees give out and the floor rise to meet him.

“Really glad you didn’t volunteer in class.” The man finally managed, eyes closed and head still touching the cupboard door.

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, shivering. “Don’t suppose you can give me a note to get out of transfiguration?”

Lupin’s laugh was genuine and only slightly hysterical.

Chapter Text

Snuffles was not there when Lupin dropped him off at Snape’s quarters. Harry could have really used the comfort of his dog, but it’s wasn’t like anybody expected him to be hiding in his professor’s personal quarters before noon on a school day. He could hardly blame the pup. Apparently Lupin wasn’t much experienced with traumatized kids, because he left as soon as Harry had given the perfunctory “I’m alright, you can go back to work”. Harry wasn’t alright.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat alone on the couch, staring at the empty fireplace, before a loud pop greeted the return of Snuffles with the elf that apparently had been assigned to walkies. Normally Harry would introduce himself and ask the house-elf’s name but he was just… rather numb. If he’d been paying attention he’d have seen a rather odd exchange between the elf and the dog, but as it happens he was not and so the first thing he really noticed was the cold wet nose that pressed itself against his cheek and the tongue that followed. Oh. He’s crying, Harry noticed before the sobs started in earnest.

He was too distracted to hear the elf pop away, or notice the door opening and shutting quickly. But he did notice the sharp smell of first year failed potion experiments, and the strong arms that were suddenly around him, trapping him between the potion master and Snuffles. Harry cried himself to sleep like that. He did not wake up again until there was a bang and a curse.

“He’s in there!” Ron’s voice sounded panicked. “With Snape and Sirius Black!”

“Give me that.” Hermione’s irritated voice followed. “Are you sure this isn’t a trick of the twins? How can this be accurate?”

“We’ve got to help him!” Ron replied back before there was another loud bang on the door. Harry opened his eyes and stiffened slightly.

Snuffles was growling softly and backing up off the couch, clearly scared. Severus was awake and narrowing his eyes. Without a word he stood up and moved to the door, unlatching it so quickly both Gryffindors on the other side tumbled into his quarters. Snape sneered down at them, grabbed the piece of paper that was clutched in Ron’s hand, and then slammed the door shut behind them and locked it with a brilliant flash of red warding.

“Harry?” Hermione managed to ask, voice trembling from her sprawled position on the floor. “Are you alright? You missed classes and dinner…”

“Yeah.” Harry replied, still watching the tense set of Severus’ shoulders and the weird way he was looking at the dog and back to the paper in his hand. Snuffles was crouched in the corner, hackles up and eyes wide. “Guys, can you come back later? I… I need to talk to the professor alone.”

“But Harry,” Ron started to complain but the light of comprehension had dawned in Hermione’s eyes. She clapped a hand onto Ron’s arm and pulled him to his feet.
“He’s fine, Ronald. We’d best, best leave it. For now.” Hermione backed them up to the door.

“Hey, he’s got the map!”

“Not NOW Ron.” Hermione hissed. “The summer!” She tried to explain, but Ron clearly didn’t understand. Her hand tried the handle on the door but it wouldn’t budge.

“Severus?” Harry asked, softly.

“I think…” Snape took a deep slow breath. “I think there’s more to Snuffles appearance in Surrey than you realized, Harry. Isn’t that right, Sirius Black?” His dark eyes focused on the dog as he said it and Harry watched in astonishment as Snuffles morphed into a man.

A very familiar man.

Hermione and Ron both let out matching shouts and pulled out their wands but Snape just kept his eyes trained on the man, hand twitching but making no move towards his wand. He did, however, motion for the two children to get behind him.

“I don’t mean him harm.” Black managed to stutter out, hands up as if to prove he was harmless. “Please, I… I just wanted to make sure he was safe. He wasn’t, with the muggles, and then we were with you and I was so confused! But I swear I don’t mean him harm, Snape.”

“Of course you don’t or he’d be dead.” Snape’s tone was dismissive but he finally drew his wand and pointed right at the man’s heart. “What game are you playing?”

“Sirius Black?” Harry breathed out, not quite understanding everything that was happening. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah, pup.” The man lowed his hands slightly and turned to the boy. “You’re probably too young to remember me.”

“Severus showed me pictures of you.” Harry blushed. “Of course you probably know that. You were at the house.”

The two men share a pointed look. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was, but I didn’t know if it was safe and… Snape and I don’t exactly have the best history. I wasn’t sure, I wasn’t sure what he was doing with you. Once I figured it out, well, I didn’t want to risk losing contact with you. Not after all that time.” Black sounded devastated, his voice hitching on the last words. “I hadn’t realized how long had passed, and then the paper…”

“I think you’d better start at the beginning.” Snape sneered and motioned with his wand for Black to take up the empty chair by the heart. “With a cup of veritaserum tea.”

Harry was somewhat shocked when Black nodded and fumbled his way into the chair. “Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

Harry took up a seat on the couch, with Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their wands still out and protective somewhat skeptical looks on their faces. “I don’t suppose you’d let me obliviate these two and send them on their way first?” Severus asked Harry with a resigned tone.

“I’d just tell them everything later.” Harry admitted with a shrug. “You might as well just let them stay.”

“I should learn to never answer my door when a Gryffindor knocks on it.” Snape muttered but then gave the two a pointed look, as if asking them to keep an eye on Black. Hermione gave a solemn nod back. Snape turned away just long enough to retrieve a bottle of vertiserum and the now lukewarm tea. He poured the required drops in and then levitated the cup to Black rather than risking getting within grapping distance. Black took the cup and downed it without question.

The story wasn’t long but it was… gut wrenching. Harry couldn’t look at Black as he told it, the monotone voice and glazed eyes from the potion were hard to witness. But Severus’ face as the entire plot was explained was even worse. The man looked like he was reliving his cruelest nightmare. His voice was firm when he asked clarifying questions but it was the sort of even that Harry had come to recognize as his professor struggling to contain his true emotions be they good or bad.

“And then Hagrid showed up and took Harry and I thought, I thought he’s safe. He’s safe with Hagrid, but not if Peter was out there. Peter had, Peter could… I had to protect Harry!” Black’s voice went frantic even through the numbing effects of the potion. “So I tracked him down and he tricked me, blew up those muggles and cut off his finger and I just, I just lost it.” The potion was starting to wear off in the face of Black’s emotions, and his frankly unstable magic if the small tremors in the knickknacks on the mantel were anything to go by, but Snape made no move to reapply it. “By the time I realized what was happening I was already in Azkaban. Was there,” Black shook his head as if to clear out cobwebs. “Was there a trial? I don’t remember a trial.”

“No.” Harry answered gently back. “There wasn’t. I checked.” Snape raised an eyebrow in question and Harry blushed. “After Mr. Weasley told me about Black, I got curious. In your sitting room there was a book, some sort of special edition of the Profit, had all these pages where you could ask it about old back issues. You know the one?” When Snape nodded Harry continued. “So I looked up any that mentioned Sirius Black. There wasn’t much there, but one of the last articles mentioned he’d been given a life sentence as part of some sort of mass incarceration. There were a lot of names there and the reporter said they were concerned that none of them had had a full trial.”

“Oh.” Black blinked and licked his parched lips. “I kept waiting. Then when it didn’t happen I thought they must have done it while I was a little insane.”

“You’ve always been insane.” Snape bit out, anger now replacing his heartbreak. “What were you thinking going after a Death Eater alone, without even telling the Order what had happened! They all thought it was you!”

“Might as well have been.” Black hung his head low. “It’s my fault they’re dead.”

Snape snorted. “I think there’s a great many people that lay claim to that guilt, Black. You’ll have to get in line.”

“I think,” Harry cut in, “that the only person who is responsible for their deaths is Voldemort.” Everyone else in the room flinched. “Peter Pettigrew may have sold them out, but Voldemort dealt the curse so let’s stop blaming ourselves shall we? I mean, clearly he wanted to kill me, so is it my fault they died?”

“No!” Both men shouted at the same time and Harry smiled slightly.

“Exactly. So let’s sit down and figure this out.”

“How did you get out of Azkaban?” Ron asked finally after seemingly recovering enough to regain higher brain function. “That’s supposed to be impossible!”

“I’m an animagus. Apparently nobody warded against it.” Black admitted with a tired shrug. “I was starving, we all are in there, and when I saw the paper, saw that picture of you with the rat, with Peter, I knew I had to get out. I had to protect Harry! I, I slipped right through the bars.”

“Oh Merlin, Scabbors is…” Ron looked green. “Fucking hell.”

“You were pretty skinny.” Harry, letting Hermione deal with Ron for now, sat forward slightly on the couch. “How did you find me in Surrey?”

Black’s eyes burned brightly. “I’m your godfather, Harry. That’s, that’s not just a word for a wizard. I could find you anywhere.”

That was rather disturbing. Something of his discomfort with that idea must have shown on his face because Severus’ hand landed firm and warm on his shoulder. “It’s normal, Harry. I can locate Draco just the same way. If Black meant you harm it wouldn’t work, the vows would be broken. It’s meant as a form of protection. There’s a magical contract that happens when someone takes on being a godparent in our world. It’s one of the reasons I had started to suspect there was more to the story about Black. Having you at the house this summer made me think more about that night, about what must have happened. If Black had betrayed your parents to the Dark Lord, it would have broken his vow as a godparent and your father and mother would have felt that breach instantly. They would have had time to run, or notify the Order. They did not, which means they didn’t feel that breach. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that before.” Snape’s eyes were hollow with pain.

“Oh.” Harry shivered slightly. “How come nobody ever explains this stuff? How am I supposed to know?”

Snape and Black exchanged a look. “I’ll teach you,” Severus finally offered. “This summer, when you come home for the break we’ll start in on the things you would have learned if you’d been raised in the wizarding world. I can’t teach you anything the Potters would have, House secrets and such, but the main things.” He gave a huge sigh and continued before Hermione could ask the question that was clearly dancing on the tip of her tongue. “And yes, Granger, you might as well attend too. I’d have to put the bloody house under a Fidelius to keep your nose out of something once you decide you want to learn it.”

“I can get you the Potter grimoire.” Black offered in a tight voice. “I, I can’t say what will happen to me and I won’t ask you for mercy, Snape. But you’ve sworn Harry Sanctuary – you, you’ll take care of him?”

“With my life.” Snape vowed in an equally tight voice. “And I’m not turning you in you ugly mongrel. If you’re here, and you survived the hundred wards I placed on my house, then you aren’t a threat to me or to Harry. I don’t like you, I’ll never like you, but you clearly didn’t betray the Potters.” Snape paused and a dark sneer bloomed on his face. “And if it wasn’t for Harry I’d gladly kill you where you stand innocent of that crime or not. Just so we’re clear.”

“Crystal.” Black sneered right back.

Snape looked like he swallowed a whole basket of lemons. “Besides, when I extended Sanctuary to Harry, it included his dog. I can’t betray you without breaking my own House’s sanctuary rights.”

Black’s eyes widened and for a moment Harry thought he was going to laugh but something about the nature of the situation must have filtered through because slowly that look passed and a serious expression settled on the ragged wizard’s face. He nodded, solemnly, and then gave a complicated bow of some sort, that Snape answered with a slow deliberate nod of his head.

“So,” Harry began, fidgetingly slightly where he sat with Snape’s hand still grasping his shoulder. “What do we do exactly? I mean, there are dementors out there trying to suck out his soul. How do we get him a trial?”

“We can’t.” Snape admitted with a put out expression, finally letting go of Harry’s shoulder to flop rather ungracefully into the other empty chair. “The Ministry is never going to admit that he’s innocent. It would be political suicide for the Minister. They’ll have him Kissed faster than you can say Quidditch.”

“Well he can’t keep living here as Snuffles. You two hate each other!” Harry’s jaw dropped as he suddenly realized, and he stood up in shock. “You peed on his rug! And you’re a human being!”

Black didn’t look at all embarrassed by this fact. “He deserved it.”

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” Harry sat down heavily onto the couch and put his head in his hands. Hermione rested a comforting hand on his leg. “You slept on the foot of my bed.” Going back over the conversation in his mind Harry froze. “You said the rat – the rat was Pettigrew and you saw him in the photo with Ron… Scabbors is Pettigrew? He sleeps IN Ron’s bed! What kind of perverted psychopath is that guy!”

“Oy, mate, don’t remind me.” Ron muttered under his breath. “I’m going to have to burn everything I own with Fiendfire and scrub myself raw.” Ron froze. “Hold on, the twins have had the map for ages. Didn’t they ever notice a strange man in my bed!”

“We need a plan.” Severus tiredly bit out, ignoring Ron. “And first thing on that plan has to be capturing Pettigrew. Second, we need to find a place for Black to hide that isn’t Hogwarts. Clearly we need to do something to improve the wards if we’ve got two unregistered animagus’ living here with no one the wiser. It’s too dangerous to leave it like that which means we have to relocate him. Under Sanctuary he can return to Spinner’s End but he can’t be seen in public or the muggles will report him and without us there bringing him supplies…”

“Not to mention it can’t be healthy to be alone in a house for an entire year when you can’t even go outside.” Harry supplied with a sigh. “Should we tell Lupin?”

Hermione finally put her wand away. “I take it Prof. Lupin knew Black as well then, since they were both friends with your father?” Harry nodded in response and Hermione smiled slightly. “Well, you’re incredibly lucky he hasn’t figured out Snuffles there already. If he knew about all of you being animagi than he’d have figured that out pretty quickly. Of course Ron and I will help you,” Ron squeaked at that and Hermione smacked him causally in the shoulder without even turning her head. “But having another adult in on this will be necessary. Prof. Snape has done fantastic at keeping his involvement in protecting Harry a secret – we had no idea until the twins gave us that map that this is where Harry was disappearing off to. But if he actively helps Black or Harry in public than he’s outed. Prof. Lupin could easily do a lot of things under the guise as Steward to the House of Potter, if I’m understanding that role correctly.”

Snape’s mouth pinched. “Granger is not incorrect. And we will be discussing that map, do not for instant think I’ve forgotten it. Right now, however, we will need to make some sort of arrangement. It’s gone midnight, far too late for me to pull Lupin here without it causing notice.” His dark eyes narrowed in on the two Gryffindors still flanking Harry. “I realize you both have a ridiculously strong attachment to Potter and for some reason have given him unquestioned loyalty. In his interests I must insist that this is kept private. Other than Albus Dumbledore and the staff here, the only person who knows where Mr. Potter has been living is Arthur Weasley. It should be kept that way.”

“Well and Millie and Magnus.” Harry interjected. “If we’re doing a proper conspiracy we should enlist them as well. Nobody would expect it.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because yes, Harry, this isn’t already a large enough group of people who could possibly accidently let something lose that costs one or more of us our lives. Let’s just add a another half dozen to the list. Gryffindors.”

Everyone ignored that comment.
“Wait, who’s Millie?” Ron asked confused and Hermione groaned.

“I’ll explain it later.” She offered with a tired sigh. “Somewhere you can scream and it won’t make the professor hex you.”

Chapter Text

Hermione and Ron did not want to leave for Gryffindor tower without Harry, but Harry wasn’t about to leave his newly discovered godfather alone with Severus. It was painfully clear that Snape hated Sirius Black, for some reason that Harry wasn’t sure he even wanted to know, and that Sirius, while not feeling the same burning desire to murder the man, was not a fan of the potion master. If at some point the animagus’ dislike for the potion master had been as harsh and unforgiving as the professor’s towards him, either the time in Azkaban had tempered it or living in hiding under his roof had demonstrated some sort of redeemable qualities.

Normally Harry would have expected Hermione to be the one most unwilling to leave a mystery but the witch was surprisingly accommodating to Snape’s barked out order to leave. But then Hermione had always been much better at picking up on people’s emotions than Ron, and the potion master was very nearly at the end of his rope. Harry too was not up for much more, not after the revelations of the day, on top of the boggart. He really just wanted to curl up with Snuffles and sleep, safe in the potion mater’s quarters but, now that he knew who or really what Snuffles was, Harry was somewhat in mourning on top of it all. Gaining a godfather would possibly prove to be a good thing but right now he just sort of wanted his dog. Alright, more than sort of.

Ron, however, wanted more answers, particularly about why his father knew about Harry’s summer arrangements and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Hermione finally clamped a hand over his mouth and physically hauled him to his feet. “We can find out more later, Ron. Harry needs rest and we will be leaving him here because if he goes back to the tower you’ll be interrogating him all night. He needs rest and we do not need Neville, Seamus, and Dean overhearing anything they ought not. Prof. Snape is right, there’s enough people already knowing more than they should.”

“But Hermione,” Ron started to protest, the sound muffled by her hand.

“Either you come willingly or I’m going to put you in a body bind and lean you against the wall in the corner.” Hermione threatened. “I’m exhausted too and completely out of patience.”

“She’d curse him in front of a professor?” Black hissed in question and Harry could only grin and nod.

“I think Snape would just help her anyway.” Harry advised under his breath. “In fact, I think Hermione and him will get along famously once he doesn’t have to pretend to be the giant bat of the dungeons he usually behaves like during the year. They are a lot alike.” The smirk that was blooming on Snape’s face as he listened to the witch threaten the boy pretty much clinched this observation.

“I can’t go back to the dorm. Pettigrew is there.” Ron finally settled on, his shoulders slumping and Hermione let him go with a sigh.

“That is a legitimate concern.” She conceded. “And you are a horrible actor. He’ll know something’s wrong right away.”

“I cannot believe I am doing this.” Snape muttered but walked to a bit of blank wall next to the door to the kitchen. “If I let you stay in the Slytherin guest quarters you will play no pranks, you will not leave them until I come to get you, and you will not fornicate with each other while staying here. I do not want to handle the paperwork for brewing an abortifacient.”

“Honestly,” Hermione huffed, clearly no longer intimated by the man after learning of his role in Harry’s life. “I think we can manage, professor.”

Ron turned bright red. “Ah…”

“Oh get in there and out of my sight.” Snape tapped the wall with his wand and a door appeared. “I’ll have to explain to Dumbledore in the morning why I activated this so think up a good excuse while you’re in there. There must be some measure of cunning in you both for you to have survived Potter’s company this long.”

“You aren’t going to tell him?” Ron asked, hesitating on the threshold.

“I hadn’t decided.” Snape bit out angrily. “I’m sure you are aware that it is sometimes easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

Of all the possible explanations for not telling the headmaster something that was probably the best one to use with a Weasley. Ron’s jaw dropped slightly but his eyes lit up with understanding and he slowly smiled. “Yeah, yeah I am.” He turned and went inside, an exclamation of dismay at all the green flowing out through the open door only to be cut off when Hermione entered and shut it with a decided bang.

Alone, the three wizards eyed each other. “I only have one guest room.” Snape finally settled on with a sneer. “And only one couch.”

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor just fine.” Sirius shrugged and ungracefully sank to the rug and leaned against the bookcase. “Still loads better than Azkaban.”

“Fairly certain a muggle cesspit is better than Azkaban.” Snape admitted with a tired sigh before sinking back down into his chair. “I have no idea what we do from here.” That admission was, Harry thought, incredibly brave.

“We get some sleep.” Harry advised, his green eyes flashing. “In the morning, we tell the headmaster about the boggart. I was hysterical, and demanded my friends were close. A calming drought wasn’t enough so you sent an elf to get them. Dobby will lie for us I’m pretty sure.” Harry rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “The Headmaster will possibly suspect there’s more to it but he’s good about biding his time. He’ll let it go for now and then just pick at us for a while.”

“You are disturbingly well versed in how Albus Dumbledore gets information from reluctant allies.” Snape observed.

“Not exactly the first time I’ve done this sort of thing. I haven’t really trusted him since I met him.” Harry admitted tiredly.

“What about the rat?” Sirius broke in, looking a little disturbed as he said it, his finger nails digging into what was left of his prison robes.

“He’s Ron’s rat right? So, Ron just goes to the dorm and gets him. Can we conjure an animagus proof cage?” Harry postulated. “Do we have any Polyjuice, Severus? Ron really can’t lie but if one of us went in as Ron, Pettigrew wouldn’t be able to tell unless we said anything.”

“If that boy is incapable of walking into a room, picking up his own pet, and stuffing it in a cage than your choice in friends is severely lacking.” Snape complained. “But yes I have Polyjuice. No I will not be taking it. If you honestly think he can’t do this we’ll send you in. You’re the most familiar with his mannerisms.”

“Alright.” Harry nodded. “I’ll get the rat and bring him back here. You get Millie while I’m gone, and Hermione can go get Prof. Lupin. Your quarters are about the only place I’m sure Dumbledore can’t get other than the Chamber of Secrets and he’d be an idiot if he didn’t have that second floor bathroom on constant surveillance.”

Sirius’ head swiveled around. “What are you talking about? You know where the Chamber of Secrets is?”

“Been there done that.” Harry shrugged with a small grimace. “Left a rotting basilisk down there. Not a great hide out spot at the moment.”

“We should harvest that for potions.” Severus muttered before visibly sagging. “Although one crisis at a time. If this is what your life is like on a regular basis, Harry, no wonder you are the way you are.”

“Cheers.” Harry lifted his tea and drank the last of the lukewarm liquid before continuing to think out loud. “Once we get everyone here, we explain the situation to Lupin and Millie.” Harry paused. “Is there any way we can get Arthur Weasley here? If he takes Pettigrew the rat into the Ministry, says something about getting suspicious of it since it was alive so long or something, we can keep us out of it and keep Sirius hidden.”

“It would have to be the right person in the Ministry. We need Pettigrew’s arrest to go public if there’s ever any hope of having the Ministry clear Black.” Snape’s tone told Harry that hope was pretty slim even then.

“So we tip off a journalist that they need to be outside so in so’s office at such and such time.” Sirius suggested with a shrug. “Granddad did that all the time. The paper prints the story before the Ministry even has time to think up the cover story.”

“One of my former students is working at the Profit, a minor journalist but I think she’d be interested in anything that could further her reputation.” Snape nodded. “Yes, that would be the simplest course. I can use the same excuse to get Arthur here as we use for the rest. The Boggart upset you significantly and I’m trying to rally the people around you that you find most comforting.”

“Happy to play the damsel in distress.” Harry scowled at the idea but then went one step further. “Get Mrs. Weasley then too. It would look funny if you don’t and once she learns who that rat is and that he’s been sleeping in the same bed with her little Ronikins she’ll burn the earth and salt it all the way to London and cause a riot.”

“Molly Weasley never changes.” Sirius grinned. “She was always a firecracker.”

“Yes, well,” Snape grimaced. “Having them all in my living quarters is starting to sound unpleasant.”

“Starting?” Harry laughed softly. “I’d think you were already feeling invaded by Gryffindor’s.”

Snape just glared. “Go to bed.”

Harry snuggled down into the blankets on the couch. “Where will he sleep?” and pointed over his shoulder at Black.

With a soft whish Sirius turned back into a dog and then circled three times on the hearth rug before laying back down.

“You know I vastly prefer him like that.” Snape observed.

Harry, not wanting to hurt his godfather’s feelings, agreed silently in his own head.

BREAK

Harry didn’t sleep well that night, but then it didn’t seem like Snuffles or Snape did either. Eventually Snuffles moved so his head was resting on Harry’s knee, and man or dog, it was comforting. Eventually he dosed off with his hand tangled in the fur around the dog’s ears and when he woke up, Snuffles was still there and Snape was lightly dosing in the armchair. It took him a moment to realize what exactly had woken him.

Hermione was in the tiny kitchen that Snape’s quarters sported, making a pot of tea by the looks of it. Dobby was watching her with a look of utter confusion on his tiny elf face, a plate of eggs steaming in midair next to him. Hermione turned when she heard the couch creak and put her finger to her lips and then pointed towards the professor. Snuffles, disturbed by Harry moving, stretched and yawned but made no move to turn back into a human. Harry stood up carefully and plucked the plate of eggs out of the air, he would never get used to floating food, and then carefully maneuvered it to the mantel where it was out of the way. Snuffles made a soft sound, eyes tracking it, and not for the first time since the reveal Harry wondered how much was man and how much dog in his godfather’s head.

“Where’s Ron?” Harry whispered. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Still asleep.” She responded. “Dobby came by this morning. Apparently the Headmaster had the idea to send an elf in to do recognizance for him since the door won’t open to him. Dobby took it upon himself to volunteer.”

Dobby nodded his head so hard his ears smacked his own nose. “Oh yes, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Dobby heard the plans and thought Harry Potter sir and Snuffles need their privacy.”

“Thanks Dobby.” Harry smiled at the little elf, a new idea forming in his head. “If the Headmasters asks you, can you tell him that Prof Snape gathered my friends because I was so upset over the boggart in class? We need to have a little meeting and it would be best if he didn’t question why everyone was gathered here.”

Dobby’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Oh yes, sir, Dobby be happy to help the great Harry Potter. Does sir need Dobby to bring people here?”

“I will but not just yet.” Harry nodded towards the sleeping professor. “he’s exhausted. I don’t want to cut his sleep short.”

“Harry Potter is kind to the professor.” Dobby looked like he might cry. “And kind to his Snuffles even when Snuffles hides.”

The dog made a soft whine and looked up at Harry with sad eyes. “I think,” Harry started and then paused to bend down so he was eye level with his godfather. “I think if I’d lost everyone, and had to live with dementors, I might like to be a dog for a while too.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed in a tight voice. “I think it’s a rather relatable choice.”

Harry smiled sadly and petted his godfather’s head. “You’ll have to turn back when everyone gets here later but for now this is fine.”

“Dobby,” Hermione questioned softly, still trying to keep their voices down, “do you think you could find some clothes that would fit Mr. Black? It might be a good idea to get him cleaned up some before everyone arrives.”

“Oh yes, Miss Hermione. Dobby be finding some proper robes. Dobby knows all the tailors and how to order robes.”

“We need them pretty quickly.” Hermione reminded the elf. “And we need you back here. If we give you some gold…”

“There’s some in my trunk.” Harry offered. “Should be enough to get a few things. Doesn’t need to be fancy.”

Snuffles moved reluctantly away and with a soft pop was back into human form. “There’s no need. Dobby, can you get through my family wards if I give you permission?”

“Oh yes, sir, Lord Black sir.”

“Go to Grimmauld place in London. There was an elf there, don’t know if he’s still living or not, but otherwise the house should be empty. There should be some clothes that will fit me well enough in my brother’s room. Probably dusty.”

Dobby smiled a little too widely at being given a task. “Dobby will be quick.” The elf eyed the wizard up and down. “Miss Hermione and sir will wash Lord Black while Dobby is going.”

“Of course.” Hermione agreed. “The guest bathroom was quite nice actually, and the professor stocked it with all sorts of lovely soaps. Why don’t you just come on through then, Mr. Black.”

“Sirius.” He insisted, still looking a little wild eyed. “Lord Black was my grandfather and I haven’t been a mister since I was a student here.”

“Sirius then.” Hermione held open the door to the guest room. “I’ll get you sorted and Harry can finish breakfast.” As soon as Hermione pulled Sirius into the guest room and the door closed, Dobby snapped his fingers and the plate of eggs on the mantle was joined by sausages and toast, and the tea on the stove found itself finished properly in its pot.

“Thanks.” Harry grinned at the little elf. “You be okay getting to his house and back?”

“Oh yes, sir. Dobby was a Malfoy elf, and Lady Malfoy was a Black. She be going often to Grimmauld place before Lady Black died. Lady Black was her aunt.” The little elf added almost as an afterthought. “Blacks and Malfoys and Potter all tied up in blood.”

“That is utterly disturbing.” Snape’s tired voice answered back. “I knew it, but to hear it stated so bluntly….” He yawned.

“I’ll take care of feeding everyone, Dobby. You go on and get the clothes for Sirius and I’ll have some more for you to do after that if you are up for it.”

With a rather odd salute the little elf popped away. “Been plotting before breakfast?” Snape asked as he stumbled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. He downed it and then poured another.

“Headmaster sent Dobby in to spy on us. Didn’t quite work to his advantage. Dobby’s gone to get Sirius some proper clothes from some old house, Hermione is scrubbing my godfather in the shower in the guestroom – which I’m sure is more traumatizing for him than it is her, I’ve seen her on a hygiene binge – and I’ve figured out how to get the rat and everyone here without any of us leaving this room.” Harry grinned and took a plate to fill it from the impromptu buffet that had come to be the mantle.

“I still don’t think we should be involving this many people.” Snape argued. “I don’t like including anyone in a conspiracy.”

“You can’t have a conspiracy just with yourself, Severus.” Harry argued, pointing with his fork and the bit of egg on it. “Besides, Hermione and Ron are already in the thick of it. It’s about time Ron found out about Millie anyway. He’s been asking some rather pointed questions lately and he might be a bit slow on the uptake but he’s not an idiot. If Millie intends to be my friend long term, which she claims she does, than best to ease her into the sort of thing I do on a regular basis.”

“And we need the Weasleys.” Snape admitted reluctantly. “But do we really need Lupin?”

“How long till Sirius breaks down and contacts him anyway?” Harry asked honestly.

“Why was I deluded that it was just lack of adult supervision that lead you into all your past exploits? You get into the most impossible situations even when you are living under my own roof.” Snape made up his own plate, heavy on the sausage and light on the egg.

There was a pop and Dobby reappeared, arms full of clothes, and then trotted with a nod towards the guest room. “I was going to have Dobby go get the rest and bring them here. Or at least take them a message to come here. And I’m wondering if he can’t bag the rat too.”

Snape froze, sausage half way to his mouth. He slowly lowered it. “House elves can apparate through the Hogwarts wards.”

“Through any wards it seems like.” Harry agreed with a shrug. “Rather large holes in security it seems like. Animagus and elves just coming and going willy nilly.”

“I’ve warded my rooms against house-elves that do not belong in them. They have to be linked to me by oath or to you – Dobby must have sworn himself to you in some way for him to get through.”

“You have an elf?”

“No,” Severus took a bite of his sausage and chewed before continuing. “Helca is an elf here at Hogwarts that is bound to me specifically over the rest of the school. Filius also has an elf he’s specifically oath bound. It’s considered old fashioned but we both thought it a bad idea to have just any elf in and out. Helca does all the cleaning in here and in the potion rooms. I trained her myself.”

At the mention of her name a little elf in a violently purple tea cozy with the Hogwarts crest popped into the room. “Professor Snape call for Helca?”

“Were you aware that another elf, Dobby, was able to come and go from my rooms?” he asked.

Helca nodded. “Dobby bound to Professor Snape’s son of choice, so Dobby can come and go. But Dobby and Helca never harm the professor.” Her big eyes were wide and pleading. “It is honor, sir, to serve a Head of House. No elf would take such duties lightly.”

“Helca,” Harry got down to eye level with her. “Dobby said the headmaster asked for an elf to come spy on us?”

She got a strange little smile on her face. “Oh yes, Master Harry, sir. But he not know Dobby is bound to Harry Potter sir. He thinks Dobby has no oath because Dobby is free. He knows Helca has oath to Professor so he not trust Helca. But he not understanding oaths, really. He thinks Dobby loyal to Hogwarts more than Dobby’s Harry Potter because Hogwarts is Dobby’s new home. He not know Harry Potter is Dobby’s friend like Professor is Helca’s friend.”

“And we won’t be telling him any different will we?” Snape asked softly. “He is a wise man, the headmaster, but he does not always see the best in all his charges.”

“No.” Helca’s ears drooped. “Headmaster forgets school for the world and not elves place to remind him. But we are bound to school, not headmaster, and Helca has oath only to Professor Snape and his kin inside these walls. Headmaster has no oaths with elves and no elf friends so he is not that wise. Few wizards remember how to be elf friend – only how to bind. Darks times for elveses and wizards.” The little elf slumped dejectedly. “Binding is new way, and oaths old way, and Helca does not know why wizards have forgotten old way. But elves remember. Not same, not good.” She shook her head.

“If I give you a message can you carry it to someone for me? If they are outside the walls?” Snape asked, motioning for Harry to hold his questions.

“Oh yes, Professor sir. Helca be happy to take a message.” She nodded eagerly.

“Then I have two. I need you got go to Professor Lupin and tell him to come to my chambers in one hour. It is urgent. Then I need you to go to the Weasleys and tell Molly and Arthur the same. If either should be intercepted by Dumbledore they are to inform him that Harry has reacted badly to the boggart in his class and is very upset. I’ve asked them to come to comfort him.”

Helca’s eyes flickered to Harry and then back. “Oh poor Master Harry Potter, sir, he is so very upset. Nasty boggart make him see terrible things, oh yes. Helca get people to comfort poor Harry Potter.” She then did the single most disturbing thing Harry had ever seen from an elf and winked.

Snape gave a feral grin. “Yes, Helca, that is exactly right. I need them all here in exactly one hour.”

“Helca see they get here.” The elf agreed just as Dobby, Sirius, Hermione, and a half asleep Ron exited the guest room. “Helca happy to be elf friend to Harry Potter and her Professor.” With that she popped away.

“What does that mean, elf friend?” Hermione asked the question that had been plaguing Harry through the entire last conversation. Ron, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, collapsed into one of the armchairs and closed his eyes.

“Oh that.” Sirius waved his hand dismissively which earned him a glare from Dobby. “Don’t pay any attention to that. It’s just new age rubbish.” He pulled slightly on his robes trying to make the fabric lay a little better. He looked a great deal more presentable clean, even if the clothing was ill fitted and his cheeks still gray and slightly sunk in from malnutrition.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared. “It seemed rather important.”

“It is.” Severus agreed and motioned them all to sit. Dobby, at Harry’s nod, crossed over to sit next to him on the couch. “House elves were not always bound to proprieties and families as they are today. They used to serve through choice, free to go to anyone they considered a friend. Oaths were used to bind the wizard and the elf to each other – a mutual protection pact if you will. You see elves need the magic of established magical households to thrive. Family magic, after a time, starts to seep into the very stones of the buildings the family inhabits, suffusing them with their particular sort of magic. Elves are attracted to it. They can survive without but it leaves them vulnerable to predators like boggarts and dementors who think elves are particularly tasty.”

Dobby bobbed his head. “So many elveses go to old houses, to Ancient and Noble Houses with lots of magics that we nest in. Elves stay safe and cozy where nothing bad can eats us. In old times, Heads of Houses lets elves in if they be friends, lets us stay and we’s clean and cook and garden and watch the little wizards so family magics grows and grows and gets stronger and stronger. House of the House gets stronger and stronger and magics bloom and get wide.” The elf spread his hands as far apart as he could. “The stronger the House’s house magics, the more elves can hide inside, the more elves are safe. Elves want family magics strong and wide so elves work hard for Houses with potential.” The little elves ears drooped. “But wizards start to forget their oaths. Elves live long time. Wizards not. We’s not know in the old days the price of staying hidden.”

“What price?” Harry asked softly, his hand resting gently on the little elf’s shoulder.

“Elves hid too long in family magics they be bound to it.” At Hermione’s’ fierce growl he clarified. “Not wizards fault, Miss Hermione. They not know either. Family magics connect all the family in a House, one to each other. Elveses connected too if stay long enough but not just to wizards in the House but to the House’s house. It hurts elves to leave. So we stays even when wizards no longer our friends. The family magics know the oaths but the wizards forget. But what elves do? Wizards not listen. Wizards take and take and elves gets cast out if we make wizards unhappy. Old oaths say wizards must let elves stay so long as elf serves the House. If elves stop serving, elf oath is broken. If wizards cast out elf, oath is broken. Most elves fear the pain of leaving a House more than they fear the wizards.”

“Not you though.” Harry hugged the elf to his side. “You were brave.”

Dobby slumped slightly. “Dobby may not have told Harry Potter entire truth. Harry Potter tricked old master into freeing Dobby from his oath and then Harry Potter said he was Dobby’s friend.” The little elf looked up tears in his eyes. “New oath – equal oath. Dobby is friends with Harry Potter sir, like elfs of old. Dobby hear tales of being friends with wizards from Dobby’s grandfather. Dobby never suffered pain of leaving a House because Dobby go right to Harry Potter sir.”

“But doesn’t that mean Harry needs to have a house to have a House?” Hermione looked terribly confused.

“Harry Potter’s House has a house.” Dobby shook his head. “Dobby cannot get there but feels it. Other elves there. And Harry Potter sir lives here at school for now, and school is like a house and all safe for elves not like wilds. So Dobby stays close to his friend and stays safe. Potter magics weak now, but Dobby thinks they be strong one day. Dobby can wait.”

Sirius looked slightly pained. “Do you mean to tell me, that sometime in the distant past, my ancestors made an actual magical oath to protect our elves? And were actually friends with them?” He said it like he couldn’t believe anyone in his family could ever be friends with anyone or anything.

Dobby nodded. “All the oldest families were once elf friends. House of Black not all forgot. Lady Narcissa remember and Master Regulus, and Lord Arcturus. They be friends to elves all their lives. Elves serve them happily and magics get big and happy.” Dobby sighed. “But Dobby was Malfoy elf, not Black elf, and tied to Malfoy magics. Dobby could not go to Lady Narcissa until Lord Malfoy free Dobby. It made Lady Narcissa sad to see Malfoy elves not be friends.”

“So the clothes is just symbolic?” Hermione asked.

“Yes.” Dobby agreed with a head bob. “Wizards like ritual. Elves not care.”

“So, if an elf is a friend and the oaths are all done willingly, than that’s good.” Hermione stated slowly. “It’s equal. Help for help.”

“Oh yes miss.” Dobby agreed happily. “Elves and wizards happy and magics grow.”

“Right.” Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “So the problem is just wizards are manipulative selfish idiots.”

Dobby shrugged. “Yes miss.”

“So,” Harry started slowly. “So Helca has an oath to Severus, but she’s been at Hogwarts so long her magics are sort of wound up in the schools? So it would hurt her to leave? But is she bound by an oath to the school?”

“Hogwarts elveses come to school when families end, no more babies. No more babies, family magics start dying and houses of Houses not safe. School has lots of magics that help hide elves but it’s not like having families.” Dobby sighed. “Helca born here but knows stories of families. Oath to professor makes her a Prince elf but House of Prince has little magics left. Not enough to keep Helca safe, not yet. So she stay here. But she help Professor and Harry Potter and maybe, someday, House of Prince magics be strong again and Helca can make a house for the House like old days.”

Something like dread settled in Harry’s stomach. “Dobby, you said you could feel that there are elves somewhere bound into the Potter family magics. There’s just me. There can’t be that much magic – are they safe?”

Sirius shook his head. “Probably not, Harry, but you can’t get to them and they can’t get out. The Potter mansion is under Ministry quarantine for another ten years. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for them right now.”

“Quarantine?” Severus asked, setting down his tea cup with a bang. “Why is the Potter mansion under Ministry quarantine?”

“it’s a rather long story.” Sirius rubbed a tired hand over his face. “The Black Mansion and Potter Mansion were both put under quarantine at the same time. It’s why my parents were living in Grimmauld place even after my father became Lord. Do you remember reading about Lord Potter’s death?”

“It was our seventh year was it not? I vaguely recall there being some gossip about it.”

Sirius looked devastated. “James and I were at school or we’d have likely caught it too. You see, the Potters and the Blacks weren’t exactly friends but all the old families know one another. My grandfather Arcturus was holding a dinner and your grandparents were invited, Harry. There were others there but mostly business associates, lower classes not Lords of Houses. One of them, Jacob Bickly, was apparently holding a grudge over a patent your grandfather held for Skelgrow. Bickly wanted to buy the patent and make some sort of improvements but your grandda was determined to let it run out. The Potters had already made a fortune off it, there wasn’t any reason to keep it going. If Bickly bought it and improved it, he could file a new patent and then extend the rights another 100 years. If it wasn’t improved, the patent would run out, well, right about now.”

“Next year.” Severus supplied. “We’ve all been waiting eagerly for it to happen. If the patent runs out without the holder selling it or filing an improvement, than it becomes public domain and any potion master can brew it or experiment on it without the royalties. It will mean a lot to poor families to not have to pay for the more expensive potion. The Potters had already set the price fairly low but this will help even more.”

“Exactly.” Sirius agreed with a small frown. “So your grandda had no intentions of selling it to someone who wanted to extend the patent. Now if Bickly had just asked for rights to experiment, he’d have gotten them, but he wanted to make money.”

“What did he do?” Hermione asked in a tight voice.

“He broke a vial of dragon pox at the dinner.” Sirius shuddered slightly. “Arcturus had had it as a boy, so he didn’t die, but most of the rest of the dinner party didn’t survive the month. Nobody realized it either until they’d gotten home. The virus takes years to die off -so once it was realized what happened all the homes of the afflicted were put under quarantine just in case and sealed by the Ministry. James couldn’t go home ever again and it cost him his life. If he’d had the family manor to live in when Voldemort came for him the wards would have held. But the small summer cottage wasn’t as well protected. But it was all he had- all we had. I was under Sanctuary to the House of Potter still when this happened and even though my grandfather was spitting mad at my parents for making it necessary for another House to offer me Sanctuary he was equally mad at me for asking for it instead of going to him. So James and I spent the holidays of our seventh year all alone in his families half-forgotten cottage. It was almost falling down when we first moved in. Took us until the wedding to get it livable. James tried several times to get to the elves but the Ministry had actually done a proper job of it for once and we couldn’t get through without sounding an alarm.”

“Oh the poor things!” Hermione held a hand up to her mouth. “All alone in that house!”

Sirius looked slightly grim. “We couldn’t even burry his parents. Lord and Lady Potter are still in there somewhere too.”

“Elves would have laid family to rest.” Helca stated softly, her ears drooping sadly. “Elves not let family down. Poor Potter elves.”

“Another ten years.” Harry breathed out in a whoosh. “And there’s nothing I can do for them?”

“Make Potter magic strong.” Dobby insisted with a sever nod of his head. “Make lots of Potter babies.”

Harry blushed scarlet. “That’s not happening for a while Dobby. I’m… still a little young for that sort of thing.”

Ron, who must have been paying attention even with his eyes closed snorted. “Technically it’s probably possible but you can’t have Ginny, even if she offers.”

“What?” Harry’s voice went slightly shrill. “She’s like my little sister!”

“Count me out too.” Hermione teased with a bit of a grin. “I want to finish school and you know actually be attracted to someone before I consider mating with them.” Everyone was snickering quietly.

“Wise, miss.” Helca agreed as if this was somehow an actual discussion. “Make better babies if witches be full grown.” She eyed Harry and Hermione with speculation. “Miss Hermione’s magic and Mr. Potter’s not best match either. Miss Hermione be better with Lord Prince.”

All the quiet snickering stopped. “That’s… good to know.” Hermione finally offered, her face scarlet. “But how about for now we stop talking about anybody making babies? We need to get everyone here.”

“Helca delivered messages. Everyone on way.” She nodded and then sat down carefully next to Dobby. “Helca stay so Helca can plot with wizards like old stories?”

“Yes you can stay.” Severus seemed resigned to having so many new people in on his plot. “Dobby, I do have something for you if you feel up to it…”

Chapter Text

The Weasleys were less than enthusiastic to find themselves in a room with a wanted criminal, a disgruntled defense professor, several children, and two house-elves. However, the addition of one animagus rat, as fetched by an eager Dobby, was what finally pushed Mrs. Weasley over the edge.

“You mean that man, THAT MAN, has been living in my house, with MY children!” She screeched, her face purple.

Lupin, looking green, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the cage. “All this time.” He whispered, devastated.

Millicent, having discovered the depth of the conspiracy at the same time as the others seemed to absorb the information far more easily. “So you want Mr. Weasley to take the rat in? Is that it?”

“We can’t let anyone know where Sirius is hiding.” Harry advised, his voice hard causing his two Gryffindor friends to sit up in notice. This was Harry in planning mode, something that always spelled danger and adventure in equal measure. “He’s safe enough here, at least until the headmaster does something about the wards to block animagi. Maybe by then the Ministry will at least be willing to hear about a trial.”

Arthur looked old as he sat down heavily. “Amelia Bones will call for one but I doubt Fudge will let it stand. He’ll be too worried about it reflecting badly on him. He’ll likely redouble efforts to have Black kissed on sight just to avoid the media.”

“We aren’t giving him the option.” Severus stated grimly. “I’ve already made contact with someone I know, a reporter. They will be stationed outside Madam Bones’ office in exactly half an hour. I need you to make sure the door doesn’t latch when you go in. That will be enough.”

“How exactly is he supposed to know that’s Pettigrew?” Mrs. Weasley argued. “It’s just a rat as far as we could tell.”

“An especially long lived on.” Hermione interjected. “And we use the map, the one the twins had that shows everyone in Hogwarts. Ron got it from them just yesterday and he noticed a name he didn’t recognize in the dorm. Worried that the map might be something like the diary last year, he contacted his parents. You realized the map was just that, but the name – that was something worth doing something about.”

Severus and Hermione took the planning from there and Harry let them, watching instead the reunion happening between his godfather and his steward. There were tears on both their faces as they hovered awkwardly around each other before Sirius finally collapsed into his friend and nearly hung off the other man. Lupin took his weight easily, his eyes falling closed as he held the other man up.

“They love each other.” Millicent whispered from her seat next to Harry. “You can almost feel it.”

“Yes.” Harry whispered back, his words slipping into Parseltongue to make them all the more quiet. “I didn’t realize it was that deep. Sirius only said they were friends.”

“It’s not entirely accepted, especially given…” Millicent trailed for a moment before sighing. “You do know Lupin is a werewolf don’t you?”

“No.” Harry eyed his steward. “Does it matter?”

She snorted. “To everyone but you.”

“Even you?” He asked.

Her eyes twitched over to Lupin and back again. “No, not to me. We get werewolves through the village on occasion. They are just like anybody else except for the full moonl”

“Good.” Harry took her hand and held it lightly in his lap. “I’m starting to think after this is over I should move to an island somewhere so I don’t have to deal with people.” He stroked her fingers and without looking up quietly asked, “would you consider joining me?”

“I don’t count as people?” She teased.

“My friends are always an exception.”

Ron’s irritated voice cut in. “Can the two love birds stop creepy whispering to each other and get us back to the point?” Ron gestured to the stunned rat in the cage. “Dad’s got to take that thing into the Ministry and then we’ve got to figure out what to do about Black.”

“Not much else we can do.” Arthur let out a long tired breath. “We’ll have to keep him hidden until we can force a trial. If the Profit runs the story it will help, but if they won’t take it and it ends up in a smaller publication it could still take months.”

“I can hide at Grimmauld.” Sirius finally spoke, not quite letting go of Lupin to do it. “I hate that place but it’s unplottable and the wards are…deadly.” He finally settled on after a long moment. “It won’t be comfortable but it would be safe.”

“Bad house.” Dobby interjected, his head wagging so hard his ears flopped. “Bad house with bad elf. Not good for wizards with dark things in their heads. House will feed.”

Everyone was silent for a long moment before Millicent snorted. “Yeah, let’s not feed a semi-sentient dark house a guy that’s been in Azkaban for over a decade. THAT won’t end well.”

“I’m open to ideas.” Snape bit out, clearly still not happy about having so many people in on plotting.

“He can stay with us.” Molly interjected, with a firm rise to her chin and a flash of something in her eye. “The Burrow is rural, the Lovegoods are the closest neighbor and old Xeno never bothers to visit. If someone pops around, Sirius can just transform.”

“Oh yes,” Dobby nodded emphatically. “Much better house. No bad things to feed.”

“No.” Helca argued, her tiny elf nose scrunched in distaste. “Ministry knows rat came from there. The Ministry send wizards to search red hair’s places. Needs to be far away, where Ministry never look.”

“Tent in the woods?” Hermione proposed. “Just pick a random spot?”

“We don’t know how long he’ll need to hide.” Lupin’s voice was slightly broken when he finally found words. “It needs to be something we can properly ward and where he’s not totally isolated. Where we can…visit.”

“The village.” Millicent spoke up. “The Ministry never goes there unless they have to and we have bolt holes just in case. Half of us are wanted anyway for something or other, usually for just existing. He’d fit right in. My parents will do it gladly, especially if Harry considers their debt paid.”

“They don’t owe me anything.” Harry started to argue but Snape held up a hand.

“If your family will consider sheltering Sirius Black, the House of Prince will consider the family of Bulstrode not only in good standing, but as friends.”

“As will the House of Black.” Sirius spoke gravely. “Whatever aid or protection may require, the House of Black will answer to the call of Bulstrode.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Weasley’s hand clutched at her chest. “That’s… do you realize what you are offering, Sirius?”

Harry and Hermione shared a confused look, but when Hermione started to open her mouth to ask, Ron put his hand on her arm to stop her and shook his head.

“Yes.” Grey eyes looked seriously at Millicent. “I will bring her entire family under my protection and the protection of my heirs.” His gaze flickered to Harry and back. “I have nothing to offer today, Miss Bulstrode, I am in dire need and no riches or name can protect me. If I should at any time have a reversal of fortune I will share that boon with you and yours.”

Millicent stood up and smoothed down her school robes before taking a shaky breath and speaking slowly, a slight crinkle appearing between her eyebrows as if she had to think very hard about each word. “The family of Bulstrode, minor as it is, recognizes the worth in House of Black, diminished though it may be, and wishes also to repay the kindness shown by Lord Prince. I will take your case to my father, although the debt we owe Lord Prince and Lord Potter are so great I cannot imagine a refusal even should you not wish to put your own House into such a situation. You do not yet know the status of those who may be offering you aid. I doubt you would wish to so align if you did.”

“Agnes Bulstrode was a friend in my youth, before her marriage.” Sirius stated grimly. “And her husband was always a kind man, as was your grandfather. I’ve known your family since I was a toddler, Miss Bulstrode, and I sent a gift when notice of your birth came. The village of which you speak is on Black lands, my great-grandfather had offered your people a stipend a century ago and my grandfather continued on with the agreement they would perform certain distasteful duties for him. I have no desire to continue such an exploitive arrangement. I will gladly seed the land to the village itself if my name is ever cleared and I may take up the lordship in a more public capacity.” His serious look faded then, to be replaced by a roguish grin. “Now can we drop all the formal crap? I’m pants at it and we’re confusing the muggle raised in the room.”

“But if it’s on Black property, won’t the Ministry look there?” Hermione questioned softly, eyes narrowing on Sirius as if to say she would be having more questions later. Which Harry was pretty sure she would.

“No.” Lupin shook his head. “They wouldn’t imagine a Black would ever lower himself to stay with half breeds.” His tone was bitter. “They don’t know Sirius, and they don’t think anyone with non-wizard blood would ever do something as noble as shelter another. Moody might check the werewolf packs, because he knows Sirius was friends with me and he might think him desperate enough to willingly turn for sanctuary, but he won’t think to check the village. No one goes there that doesn’t have to, unless it’s to harass the people.”

“I didn’t think it was bad. It had a good feeling to the place.” Harry muttered.

“You’re a werewolf!” Ron spluttered and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Ron, his name is Remus Lupin.” She huffed. “Honestly, do you ever pay attention?”

“I should get going.” Arthur cut in, picking up the cage with the stunned rat in it, tucking it into his robes so it wasn’t visible. “Albus wasn’t too keen on Molly and I being here, and when he saw Lupin and Miss Bulstrode enter just ahead of us he was practically vibrating he was so agitated. It may take me a while to get to the apparition point.” Arthur turned to Harry and hugged him, hard. “You should not have to dealing with all of this.”

“I’m okay.” Harry hugged him back. “Really, Arthur I’m okay. Severus has, he’s been fantastic really. Thank you.” Arthur smiled and his eyes said a lot more back than words could have. “Your family has done so much for me.” Harry whispered.

“Blood or not, you’re family Harry. You are always welcome at our home and I’ll help you however I can.” Arthur promised. “I just wish I could do more.”

“Get that rat to prison.” Millicent grumbled “That’s the best thing anybody in this room can do at this point.”

Arthur patted his pocket. “Molly, why don’t you come with me to see Amelia? You can keep her distracted while I make sure Severus’ journalist can listen at the door.”

Molly, eyes still narrowed at the pocket in her husband’s robes that contained the rat, sneered. “Gladly.” The two moved towards the door but Millicent called out.

“Wait.” She said, pulling her wand. “The headmaster is going to be out there. Best if we just let him in as you go. Harry,” She turned to her friend and narrowed her eyes. “This is going to sting a little but it’s totally necessary. lacrimas ”.

Harry’s eyes tingled and he could feel tears weaving down his cheek. “What was that!”

“Crying spell.” Millicent pocketed her wand. “Makes you look like you’ve been crying for hours. Headmaster needs to believe you were distressed.”

“Oh! Can you teach me that?” Hermione asked, eyes wide. “That sounds very useful.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a pained look. “I don’t want to know how she’d use that.” Harry admitted.

“Me either, mate.” Ron shuddered slightly. “What if she teaches Ginny?”

“Ginny knows it.” Molly admitted with a shrug. “It’s a useful spell for a witch.” She eyed everyone. “Sirius, best turn back and look like you’re being a proper dog now. And the elves had best depart. Ron, Hermione, Millicent, you lot come with me. Now that we’ve got Harry calm we thought it best to leave him with his family.” There was a bit of wicked gleam in her eye leaving no doubt in Harry’s mind where the twins got their mischievousness from.

Sirius transformed obediently and took up a spot at Harry’s feet and Lupin moved towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea shall I? Severus, why don’t you sit next to Harry as if you’re holding him up?”

“Not sure if that will make this more or less believable.” Snape groused but did as suggested. “It’s like we’re orchestrating a bloody play. Marks everyone.”

Helca eyed the arraignment and then snapped her fingers and a blanket smoothed itself over Harry’s lap and the fire kicked up a notch. “There. Dobby and Helca go now. Headmaster just outside.”

“Thank you.” Snape nodded at her and the two elves popped away. “Well, let’s get this over with.” He flicked his wand at the door and the red wards dropped. “Harry, why don’t you look half asleep? It might help the image if you look exhausted.”

“Not much to fake. That spell takes it out of you.” Harry complained but laid his head on Severus’ shoulder to make it look even more like the professor was comforting him.

“I’ll owl you tonight to give an update.” Arthur promised. “Stay safe, Sirius, Harry.” The others opened the door and stepped outside.

Lupin was just setting the tea pot on the side table when the door opened again and the Headmaster hustled in.

“What’s going on?” Albus asked, his blue eyes flickering around the room. “The house-elves said Harry was distressed?”

“It was my fault.” Lupin’s shoulders dropped and he looked devastated. “I didn’t think about how my lesson with the boggart might affect Harry. It was, well, I’ve never even read about one doing what it did. I knew Harry was upset, so I brought him here so he could have a break to recover, and like an idiot I just left him when he said he was fine. Severus’ elf pulled him out of classes when she found Harry crying.”

“He’s been a wreck all evening and most of the morning.” Severus ran a hand gently down Harry’s head, which had the added benefit of keeping Harry’s face angled away from the headmaster. “He fell asleep for a few hours and woke up screaming. Even my best calming draught wasn’t enough. I called Lupin first, to find out exactly what happened, and then we thought it best to get some of the others here.”

“The bogart turned into all of them dead, Albus.” Lupin whispered, collapsing heavily into the chair, head falling into his hands. “He couldn’t calm down till he saw they were all alive and well.”

“I dreamed about it again.” Harry cut in, pitching his voice to be quiet, and to his secret delight it sounded warn out and broken, thanks to Millicent’s spell. “I woke up and I just…”

Severus’ arms tightened. “I told you he wasn’t qualified to teach! How many other students have suffered like this?”

“I’m so sorry.” Lupin’s breath hitched. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Albus came around the sofa and took up the other chair. “It wasn’t your fault, Remus. You ran your lesson plans past the entire faculty and none of us predicated anything like this. And so far no one else has been upset enough to warrant intervention. In fact most students seem to have enjoyed the lesson.” The headmaster actually looked concerned when his gaze turned back to Harry. “Are you alright now, Harry?”

Harry closed his eyes and leaned heavier into Severus. “I don’t know, Headmaster. I…I’m so tired.”

“I’m going to give him some dreamless sleep and keep him here for another day.” Severus stated grimly. “And I’d appreciate it if you could send Poppy down?”

“Of course.” Albus looked properly concerned now. “I got your note this morning about needing the day and I already made arrangements for your classes. I’m sure Harry’s friends can take notes for him, and I’ll excuse them from missing their morning classes.” The headmaster paused. “I was unaware he and Miss Bulstrode were particularly close.”

“They’ve kept it quiet, for obvious reasons.” Snape admitted. “I’m sure you remember Agnus spoke Parseltongue? It wasn’t well known that her great-grandmother was from India where it’s much more common, but I assume you knew?”

“No, I was not aware. And her daughter shares the gift?”

Snape’s hand passed gently over Harry’s head once more. “Indeed. I do wonder if that is not how Harry acquired it as well. Did the Potter’s not have some Indian blood?”

“Euphemia Potter’s mother was from India, an old family of some local importance but I do not recall the name.” Albus admitted, reluctantly by the tone of his voice. “It is possible, although typically the gift would been passed directly down the line and I do not believe Euphemia had the ability, and I know James did not.”

“Millie says folks hide it.” Harry stated, and opened his eyes to slightly glare at the headmaster for a second before shutting them again as if exhausted. “Gets you in trouble in Britain. They don’t need any extra attention.”

“Indeed they do not.” Albus gave a slow sigh. “I have tried all my adult life to bring equality to people like the Bulstrodes. It is difficult when so much our world carries such biased beliefs. I’m sorry, Harry, that I did not think of that possible explanation for your gift.”

“Yes, like it is so much easier to believe he somehow acquired a magical language accidently from a wizard that cursed him instead of his own grandmother.” Snape sneered. “Now if you are done interrogating us, can you please send Poppy down here? I’d like to make sure Harry’s alright and then get him to bed properly.”

“Yes, yes of course. That must be why the guest room…” The headmaster nodded as if he’d answered his own question, and turned to leave. “Should I send his friends back?”

“I’m going to give him the potion right after Poppy checks him, Albus. He’ll be asleep soon enough.” Snape let his tone drift from angry to exhausted. “Just take Lupin with you. I can’t stand this many Gryffindors in my rooms at once.”

Harry was half asleep by the time Madam Pomfrey arrived and the witch just shook her head at him. “I don’t know what you two were up to that you had to hit him with a crying hex just to get Albus out of your rooms but next time just call me first. I’ll make up some excuse or another. Honestly, boys, you are terrible at this.” She waved her wand and Harry immediately felt better. “You are supposed to apply the counter as soon as possible.”

“I didn’t even know that was a hex.” Snape muttered. “Apparently it’s a secret witches only share with each other.”

Pomphrey smiled a little wickedly. “It’s a useful one too.” She turned her attention back to Harry. “Now, I’m not stupid. I know you used the bogart as an excuse for some sort of mischief but that was still a very traumatizing event, Mr. Potter. I do think a round of Dreamless Sleep and a good rest is the best thing.”

“While you are here,” Snape started, “I’d like to know why I haven’t gotten a copy of his medical history as I requested? Since he is in my care I should have gotten a copy of his chart from St. Mungos.”

“He hasn’t got one.” Pomfrey slipped her wand back into her sleeve. “I get copies for all the students when they start and he didn’t have anything on record with the hospital which makes sense. He was born at home, while the Potters were in hiding after all. Didn’t even have a proper midwife, poor girl. Albus only sent in that Meadowes girl who was in training. Lucky nothing went wrong.”

“What about his muggle records?” Snape frowned. “And his pre-Hogwarts notes?”

Harry yawned. “I never saw a doctor until Madam Pomfrey, not that I can remember. Dursleys didn’t like to spend money on me and apparently, because I didn’t have a proper birth record, they couldn’t get me an NIH card. Uncle Vernon went on and on about how he had to jump through hoops to get me into school without the documentation.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “But you did see a healer before you started Hogwarts didn’t you? For your immunizations?”

“No.” Harry was suddenly feeling more awake. “Should I have?”

“Albus told me,” Pomfrey frowned. “He said Harry’s guardians were against vaccinations, it was part of their religion.”

“Dudley got all his shots.” Harry grimaced. “He got really mad that I never had to have any.”

Snape made a sound in his throat that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “As I am his current guardian I want a full immunization panel, Poppy. Everything. And a complete work up.”

“Yes, yes of course.” She shook herself. “I wanted to do that from the start, but Albus convinced me to abide by his guardians wishes until Harry was of age and could ask for them himself. I should have pressed more, but it’s not the only time we’ve had muggle born or muggle raised students in that situation.”

“His grandparents died of dragon pox.” Snape grimaced as he said it. “I didn’t spent three summers helping develop that immunization only to have Harry follow in their footsteps.”

Snuffles whined loudly at that. Harry reached down and petted his head. “Can we do that tomorrow? Sleep is really sounding better and better. I honestly didn’t get much rest last night.”

“Of course dear, I need to owl St. Mungos anyway. I don’t carry all the necessary ones in stock.” Madam Pomfrey bent down and tucked the blanket back around him snuggly. “I’m so glad Severus has taken you in. You look so much healthier this year than usual. You’ve actually put on a little weight.”

“I was giving him nutrient potions all summer.” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was going to ask you for a complete work up on him anyway, once things calmed down after the start of the year.”

“We’ll sort it all out.” She promised, and stood back up. “Now, I’ll leave you boys to get some rest.” With one last pat on the shoulder to both Harry and Severus she bustled out of the room.

Snape waved his wand and the door flashed red. Sirius only hesitated a moment before transforming back to his human form.

“Dorcus Meadowes was a nightmare.” Sirius flopped onto the chair next to the couch. “She was only in her first year of training and passed out when she went to check Lily’s dilatation. I ended up delivering you, Harry, while Remus read me out directions from a book.”

“Merlin preserve us.” Snape pinched his eyes shut. “How did any of us survive that last war with this level of incompetence.”

Sirius sighed. “Very few of us did.”

On that somber note the two wizards grew quiet and Harry contemplated the fire for a long moment. “What’s wrong with me that the headmaster wouldn’t want me to see a healer?” He finally asked, voice tight. “There’s got to be something, or he wouldn’t have bothered to stop Madam Pomfrey doing her normal work, right?”

That made both men sit up. “He wouldn’t have.” Snape admitted, voice hard. “Forcing you to stay with the Dursleys he could feel was legitimately for your safety. The blood wards there did protect you. There’s no good reason to withhold medical care. Hagrid should have taken you to St. Mungos when he got you that first night, or at least brought you here to Hogwarts where Dumbledore could have had Madam Pomfrey see to you.”

“But he didn’t.” Harry replied back with a frown. “Hagrid said he drove me around for hours before Dumbledore had him drop me off at the Dursleys.”

“Get her back here.” Sirius interrupted. “If there’s something wrong with Harry…”

“Then it’s been wrong for a very long time and a few hours is not going to make a difference.” Snape cut in. “We are all exhausted, Black. We won’t know till tomorrow if Arthur’s trip to the Ministry was a success and it will take that long at least for Miss Bulstrode to hear back from her family. There’s nothing more we can do today.”

“I don’t like this.” Sirius argued. “There’s too many unanswered questions. What in Merlin’s name is the Headmaster up to? He’s always been secretive, James and I never did trust him completely. He had to know I was innocent, and he’s done nothing to help get me a trial or even look into the matter in all the years since James and Lily died. He hires Remus, knowing eventually people will have to figure out he’s a werewolf and the public will go insane. Now, I find out he’s been keeping Harry away from St. Mungos? What’s he trying to hide?”

Snape shook his head. “I wish I knew, Black. His behavior in regards to Harry has been erratic for years. I thought it had to do with the prophecy, but I do not know what it could have said that would warrant this.”

“What prophecy?” Harry asked.

Sirius waved it off. “There was this prophecy, it was why your parents went into hiding. But it was stupid, some gibberish about a child born in the 7th month blah blah blah. Anyway, like most prophecies it was self-fulfilling. Dark Lord hears it, thinks he’s got to defeat this infant, and ends up getting defeated in the process just like the prophecy said. If he’d ignored it, it wouldn’t have come about, but by trying to outsmart it he walked right into it. Classic prophecy behavior. But it’s been fulfilled. He marked you, you defeated him, and it closed the loop.”

“Perhaps not.” Snape tilted his head in thought. “Perhaps there is more to it, and the headmaster believes the prophecy is still in play.”

“Only an idiot tries to do anything because of a prophecy. They only have the power you give them.” Sirius insisted.

“Yes, but not everyone is born into an ancient House with a history for divination and such a casual disregard for the more dramatic of its manifestations. The Blacks have always been experts at Seeing, but what does Albus really know about prophecy?”

“He tried to get me to put him in touch with my Aunt Cassie.” Sirius admitted. “Shortly after James and Lily went into hiding. But she wouldn’t take my owl. When James told me about the prophecy I figured it had to do with that. Only reason James went into hiding was because we had intel that the Dark Lord actually took the prophetic bait.”

Harry bit his lip and thought back to all his interactions with the headmaster. “He thinks I’ve got something, something that makes it possible for me to defeat Voldemort that nobody else has. He told me it was my mother’s love, but lots of folks have their mothers love. It didn’t make any sense to me, it still doesn’t.”

“I’ve spent the last few months trying to figure it out.” Sirius admitted with a tired shake of his head. “I’m not exactly on top of my game, I admit. But all the proper food and rest I had hiding with you two I feel like I can finely think again, at least somewhat clearly. And it’s just not adding up. When I left that house I never thought for a second you’d survived the Killing Curse. I didn’t know what happened, but that wasn’t where my mind immediately went. How did anyone come to that conclusion anyway? Priori Incantatem on the bastard’s wand?”

“They never found his wand, only his clothes.” Severus admitted, eyes narrowing. “It was Albus that perpetuated the story of what transpired.”

Harry, suddenly feeling wide awake, sat up. “Wait, so maybe I’m not really the Boy-Who-Lived? Maybe I didn’t get hit with the curse at all?”

“You were clearly on the wrong end of something.” Snape muttered, eyes flickering to the scar peaking out from under the boy’s fringe. “There is a residue left behind by the Killing Curse, a magical taint if you will. It lingers in the place it is cast for an hour or so after. Lily hadn’t a mark on her, and the taint was there so I felt it was most likely that she’d been killed that way. Any residue could have been from the curse that killed her as easily as it could have come from whatever struck you.”

Sirius was looking at Harry’s forehead and he reached out to grab his chin to bring him closer. “Are we sure this is a curse mark? It looks like a rune. Could it have been cut in as part of a ritual?”

“What exactly do you remember when the dementors attack you?” Severus asked softly, leaning forward himself to peer at the scar.

Harry’s stomach was turning in unpleasant ways. “I hear a woman, she’s pleading, and then a scream and a flash of green, a man’s voice shouting something and then everything gets cold, like all the energy I have is gone.”

“Just the one flash? And in that order?”

“Yeah.” Harry couldn’t turn his head to look at Severus, Sirius’ grip was too tight. “What does that mean?”

“There was only one curse.” Sirius finally let go and sat back stunned. “Only one curse.”

“If these memories are accurate. He was an infant.”

“Dementors only bring out true memories, unfortunately.” Sirius shuddered. “If the scar isn’t from anything Voldemort did…”

“Lily.” Severus breathed out. “She did something.”

“Blood magic?” Sirius shook his head. “It would have to be some sort of ward or shield. Something that reacted to the Killing Curse being cast so close.”

“Oh dear Merlin.” Severus shot to his feet and went for the bookshelf. “It was just a theory! She couldn’t have staked everything on the small chance it would work.”

“What?” Sirius stood up and moved closer. “Is that your family grimoire?”

“Yes, of a sort” Snape bit out, flipping through it rapidly. “My mother ran away from home and was disinherited. She took with her a few of the private books that weren’t restricted to the manor when she left. This was one. Not a complete grimoire, more a lab notebook if you will, but it contains my great-great-grandfather’s writings on warding. Here it is.” Snape stared down at the page. “I let Lily read it once, before we had a falling out.”

“You let her read your family grimoire?” Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Exactly how close were you two?”

“Close enough this worked.” Snape muttered, setting the book down on the table. Harry leaned over to look at it. The page was covered in a spider like scrawl of old handwriting he’d need much better light to read, but in the corner of the page was a perfect lightning bolt. “Sowilo,” Snape explained in a tight voice. “Is the Nordic rune for the sun. It stands in opposition to death and destruction. This entire book was my great-great-grandfather’s attempt to find a way to block the Killing Curse. He never found one. The closest he came was a runic sacrificial blood ward. He deemed it too impractical to use, and never tested it.”

Sirius almost fell into his chair. “She did it. I know she was looking into ways to better ward the cottage. She wanted to try and recreate the type of blood wards that are on the old manner houses but James and I told her that was impossible. They only get that strong because of how many of the family die inside the house, and will their lives to the protection of their decedents. Generations of deaths tied into the wards. You can’t duplicate that.”

“No but she didn’t need to. She just needed to anchor one death, willingly given, to one single person, against one single enemy.” Snape stared down at the book. “It didn’t block the Killing Curse at all. The curse anchored her death to Harry’s blood, tied the power of her sacrifice onto the runic array, the final point of which she carved at the last moment in her own son’s forehead. The rest must be in the cottage, possibly the nursey itself, drawn onto the very foundations perhaps. When it activated it lashed out at the threat and eliminated it before he could fire a second curse.”

“My mother gave me this scar?” Harry’s fingers brushed against it. “To protect me?”

“That’s why he doesn’t want Harry to go to St. Mungos.” Sirius realized, his grey eyes going wide. “That kind of blood ward doesn’t just disappear. Death magic like that, it will be with him forever, it may even be passed on to his children.”

“It will also open him to wielding magics the headmaster would never approve of, and the Ministry would send him to Azkaban for.” Snape replied grimily. “Necromancy, soul magics, all of it. Exposure to this type of ritual at that young of an age will leave more than a scar on the forehead. And given the Potter family’s history…”

“The Peverell’s.” Sirius reached a shaking hand up to brush hair way from his face. “James and I always thought the cloak might be THE cloak, you know. No way to prove it.”

“You’ve lost me.” Harry admitted, gazing flickering between the two men. “What does any of this mean?”

“In practical terms, little.” Snape reached out and closed the book a little harder than necessary. “Albus clearly believes you still have a role to play in the fight against the Dark Lord. He’s been shielding you from examination because he fears that if you are found out measures might be taken to contain you before you’ve fulfilled what he sees as your destiny.”

“Contain me?” Harry did not like the sound of that.

“Poppy would never do such a thing, but it may be best if we can keep you away from St. Mungos.” Snape did not explain, just pushed forward. “If you do end up there, we will have to have a carefully crafted plan to keep whatever they learn private. I’ll see if I can find the names of a few healers we can trust to do what is best for you over what is best for the Ministry. The Healers Oaths should prevent that, but then I do not think all of them have actually sworn the oath on their magic rather than give it lip service alone.”

“At least this explains why he’s been so admit about Harry returning to the Dursleys. He thinks the blood ward is tied into the Evans family.” Sirius shook his head. “But that was a Prince spell, based on Prince family magics. How did she even manage it? She was good, but it takes years to learn to wield magics from another House when a witch marries in and you hadn’t’ even spoken to her in years…” Sirius trailed off, a funny look on his face. “How did you two mange to power those spells over the summer, at the house? I get the fact that Snape worked with Weasley before, you two mentioned that, but Harry? How could you combine magics that easily that quickly?” Black’s eyes narrowed. “That’s nearly impossible outside relatives. It takes a triad quite a while to cast like that.”

Snape’s eyes snapped to Harry’s. “Harry and I had cast a dual powered spell once before. I wasn’t sure it would work at the time, but Mrs. Bulstrude’s health was failing quickly and Lily and I had been successful in a few attempts in our youth. I hoped Harry’s magic was similar enough.”

“Why does this matter? What’s so important about that?” Harry asked, still not understanding why his godfather looked so upset.

“This is important.” Sirius insisted. “You don’t understand these things yet, Harry, but duel or tri powered spells are Old Magic. It’s… got a mind of its own, tied into Family Magics and oaths and you don’t just DO them, not without a lot of effort to align power cores. James and I were actually related and we had to work very hard to form a triad with Remus back in the day.”

“Arthur’s grandmother was a Prince, so there’s a bit of a familial magic connection there.” Snape admitted tightly. “And Lily, when we were very young, before we knew better, before Hogwarts….”

“Oh Merlin.” Sirius’ gaunt face paled further. “You two used to mingle didn’t you? You let your cores…”

“Like brother and sister.” Snape admitted tightly. “It was instinctual. We didn’t know it wasn’t proper until years later.”

Harry cleared his throat. “While I’m sure this is all wonderfully scandalous and fascinating, what does it have to do with my mum and what’s going on now? We still don’t know you’ll be safe!”

“Actually, this is part of it.” Sirius insisted. “He’s extended Sanctuary to you, and vaguely to me I suppose but since I wasn’t open about my identity I don’t think it applies magically. Sanctuary has to be a bond of trust and if one party is being deceptive it breaks that trust. But if your cores recognize one another as familial, that’s an even bigger claim. It could bring House Prince and House Potter into alignment. I haven’t claimed the Black Lordship, but I am magically the Lord Black, all the familial magics are resting on me – it’s why I was able to survive Azkaban as well as I did. As your godfather that has already brought the House of Black and the House of Potter into an alliance. I named you my heir until and unless I have a natural born child, so our magics are already twinning. Your grandmother was a Black as well, which makes that mingling even more powerful.”

“Merlin, Black, you can’t be serious.” Snape shook his head. “Harry’s only thirteen.”

“Thirteen and Lord of one House and heir to two others that we know of.” Sirius insisted with a wild look to his eye. “You haven’t an heir, Snape, unless you’ve stashed them in another country. So if your magic and Lily’s were mingled that young, the Prince family magics would have recognized her as your sister. Her son would be the only Prince extant other than you.”

“And how does this help us?” Harry asked, getting increasingly frustrated at his lack of understanding.

“If Black is correct, and magically you are my nephew, than that makes the Houses of Black, Potter, and Prince a triad.” Snape explained, pacing in front of his hearth. “An alliance of three in one. The Wizengamot works incredibly hard to keep that from happening. It’s why they act so quickly to retire extinct Houses from the body rather than letting them lay dormant until claimed. Having such familial magic concentrated in one person gives them a chance of claiming Merlin’s Seat.”

“You have totally lost me here.”

“Merlin’s Seat is the actual chair that presides over the Wizengamot. The person holding it goes by the title Chief Warlock these days. Right now it’s an elected position but it can also be claimed by magical rite of power.” Sirius explained, falling into a heap on the chair opposite the couch. “Nobody’s done that since Magnus Selwyn in 1532. It’s a very big deal.”

“Whoever has Merlin’s Seat is the one that can introduce new legislation, or call old into question. They can force a trial.” Snape’s eyes flickered to Black’s. “But in order to do that, you’d have to claim your hereditary seats which you cannot do until you are 15 at least. I would have to relinquish the Lordship of House Prince to you, and Black his as well. Then and only then could you even attempt to claim the seat. The Rites are not pleasant and many who have attempted them have died.”

“I’m not saying he should do it.” Sirius shook his wild mane of hair. “I’m not putting him at that kind of risk. I’m saying he would have the option. That is often enough to scare the shit out of purebloods. If someone claims the Seat by Rite it is for life. They cannot be voted out or removed unless another bests them in the Rite. It’s old old magic and woven into the very fabric of wizarding governance, of Britain itself. Merlin was so famous because he was the first to ever survive the attempt. Legend has it the Seat was created by Lady Magic herself to be a direct extension of Her will. Until he sat it in it, and lived, no one had ever managed it. His last act before his death was to spell the seat to allow for an elected official to take it when there was no one who could by rite.” Black rubbed a tired hand over his gaunt face. “Harry doesn’t have to even try to claim the seat, but if it becomes public knowledge that the three Houses are in triad, and that he could, nobody is going to work too hard to bring in a fugitive that’s under Sanctuary from the two brother houses aligned with his.”

Snape sank slowly onto the sofa next to Harry. “Dumbledore will not take such actions lightly. His plans hinge on Harry.”

“Plans I’m starting to suspect are not in the boy’s best interests.” Black leaned forward. “You said it, if I’d betrayed James he would have known. Most of the Order are half-bloods, or muggleborns, they haven’t been raised in the Old Ways. Albus’ father made damn sure his kids were. You figured it out. You want to tell me that in the decade I rotted in there the great Albus Dumbledore never once wondered about it? He’s sitting in Merlin’s Seat – elected but nevertheless there. He could have called for a trial. He knew, Snape. He knew about you and Lily, and he knew what kind of power Harry could wield between her sacrifice and the Triad.”

Harry’s heart thudded loudly in his chest. “You are saying the Headmaster knew you were innocent and left you in Azkaban? Why would he do that?”

Black’s eyes were piercing as he met Harry’s. “Because he knew that if I was alive and free I’d never let you out of my sight. He knew I’d raise you to know your heritage and your birthright and with control of Potter and Black seats in the Wizengamot we’d have been a formidable political alliance even if we never acknowledged the connection to the Princes.”

“But you were part of the Order. Didn’t he know he could trust you?”

Snape shook his head. “Black was part of the Order, yes, but politically he and Albus have never been in the same faction. Despite going against his family, Black has always remained a bit of a traditionalist, adamite in defending the Old Ways from regulation.”

“So was your father.” Black took a deep slow breath. “Dumbledore often liked to pretend that the Old Ways were Dark, that those two things were one and the same. James and I, we both knew better than that. Family magics, old magics, they aren’t evil. People are evil. And there’s no reason a muggleborn can’t learn them. Your mother proved that. She took to the Potter magics after her marriage just as if she’d been born to them.” His eyes flickered to Snape. “And if she’d mingled with Snape, it explains how well she could ward. She’d already taken to the Prince magics.”

“Most of the old families hoard their magic and their knowledge and would never willingly share it. Even when a muggleborn is married into an old line, they usually do not bond magically so the family magics cannot pass.” Snape explained with a grimace. “It’s considered something sacred, to be shared only between two purebloods or at least that’s the general consensus among most old families.”

“James said to hell with that.” Sirius smirked before the look fell off his face. “If we’d been able to hide them in Potter Manor they’d still be alive. Between the Potter family magics and Lily’s wards even with a broken Fidelius they’d have been safe enough. The cottage in Godric’s Hallow wasn’t tied to the Potter magics, and Lily tried to ward it but it she had no personal connection there. The wards need to anchor to attachment and she didn’t have any. They were much weaker than usual. We’d hoped after a while living there things would improve but she hated that place.”

“Too quiet.” Snape sneered as he said. “To provincial. Lily always liked being in the center of the city.”

Sirius’ eyes were wild as he took the explanation one step further. “All of this, each step of this, he has to know. You and I, we figured it out in one afternoon. He’s had years. What better way to keep control than to create a symbol, lift up this innocent child as the savior, then make him miserable, make it so that he’s so desperate for kindness and connection that when he enters the wizarding world he’ll cling to whatever mentor offers him a kind word, or a lemon drop. He gets his symbol in his fight against darkness and he can have Harry for his puppet. I’d eventually have died in Azkaban, and you don’t seem to be too eager to have a child. If we both died, Harry would automatically inherit even if he had no idea what exactly he was inheriting.”

“Yeah, but for that to work I’d have to be close to him, and I’m not.” Harry frowned. “He’s given me advice a few times, and I used to really like him but I wasn’t fangirling on him.”

“You defended him publicly more than once.” Snape replied back, eyes glittering with calculations. “It needn’t be anything dramatic, not now. But what would another four or five years in his presence have done for your relationship? What if he’d offered you an apprenticeship after you were finished with school? Would you have been honored? Would you have taken it?”

“So he’s just after more power? He’s got loads. What more could he want?” Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. “Not power, not for himself. He doesn’t scheme for selfish goals. No, he wants you for the greater good. He knows he’s not going to live forever. He needs a new symbol to carry on his work. Someone people consider to be just as impressive and as unshakingly Light as he is. And if he molded you, trained you, he could be sure of what you knew and didn’t know. He’s kept you ignorant of your heritage and your role on purpose. He would have revealed it at some point, at least the Lordship, but only after you were so firmly in his grasp that you’d use your seat and your political capital in whatever way he told you. A weapon in his life’s work.”

Harry contemplated that for a moment. “But what is his goal? What is it he wants?”

“Equality for all magic users. A ministry that isn’t rife with corruption and nepotism.” Snape explained gently. “A free press and a minimal standard of life.”

“But those are good things.” Harry shook his head. “Doesn’t he have to be after something bad to do all this?”

“Ah, but that is the problem, Harry. Everything he wants is reasonable, and things you’d have wanted too, do want.” Snape smiled but it held no warmth, only sadness. “The best way to manipulate someone is to use their very desires against them. You want the same things, so he can argue that none of what he is doing is wrong, it’s all a means to an end. And end you both want.”

Harry felt so confused, and his chest ached. “But why didn’t he just trust me to do the right thing? Why does he have to try and trick me?”

“Trust isn’t something most wizards have a lot of, Harry.” Sirius said it gently, with regret. “Especially not wizards that have survived wars. Your dad and I, we knew we couldn’t completely trust him, but we worked with him anyway because that’s what you have to do sometimes. Enemy of my enemy and all that, although, I admit we never thought of him in that bad of a light. We just thought, well, his brother Aberforth always said he was a manipulative son of a bitch that used people. We just, well, we thought we were prepared for that.”

Harry rubbed at his scar, a new horrifying realization settling on him. “Does this mean, that if Dumbledore knows what mum did, and you said it could, it could mean things for me, that if I don’t do what he wants he could make people think I’m bad? It was horrible in second year when everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. I don’t want to live through that again.”

“If he tried that he’d be tainting his own symbol. As long as we don’t work actively against him he’ll not go that far.” Severus speculated, reaching out to take Harry’s hand to stop him rubbing at the scar. “We just have to position ourselves as his allies rather than his pawns. He wont be happy but he’s pragmatic. He won’t undermine the cause just because we want a little more freedom.” Severus paused and then chuckled darkly. “At least now I know why he was so against you staying with me. He knew we’d eventually realize the connection between us, and that you have a claim to the Prince magics.”

“Honestly it took you long enough.” Sirius complained. “I had to point it out for Merlin’s sake!”

Severus grimaced. “I hadn’t realized the long term ramifications of our childhood, Black. It’s a time I try not to dwell on for obvious reasons.”

Harry listened to them bicker for several more minutes, staring into the fire, until sleep finally did claim him.

Chapter Text

“Harry?” Ron’s voice called out softly and Harry stopped, broom over his shoulder. It was windy and rather cold, which meant the pitch was empty and Harry had been hoping for some time to himself. In the three weeks since finding out about Sirius Black, and forming their conspiracy group, there hadn’t been a lot of time for solitary activities. The newspaper had helpfully run the story two days after Mr. Weasley turned Pettigrew over to Madam Bones and the backlash had been harsh. A trial was set for just before school let out, and while he’d initially been hopeful it didn’t seem like the tide of public opinion was on their side. Not if the comments from fellow students were anything to go by.

“Yeah Ron.” Harry sighed and turned. The redhead looked sheepish, standing on the side of the pitch.

“Can we talk?” He asked, hesitantly, shuffling his feet. “It seems like we haven’t talked all year.”

They really hadn’t.

“Yeah.” Harry agreed and reluctantly followed Ron to the stands. The Hufflepuff were closest and they took a seat on the floor boards of bottom row, behind the cloth banner to block out the wind. Harry looked at his friend expectantly.

Ron shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He glanced up and then back at his lap. “You’ve got a girlfriend, and Sanctuary and you never said…”

“Millie is my friend and a girl, but not my girlfriend.” Harry winced slightly. “At least, not that we’ve actually said.”

“You want her to be.” Ron stated grimly. “it’s pretty obvious, mate.”

I want to marry her, Harry thought to himself, not yet ready to admit that out loud. They were just kids, he knew that, it couldn’t be normal to latch onto the first girl that paid you any real attention at 12 and… never let go. That didn’t sound exactly healthy. So he changed the subject. “I couldn’t tell you about the Sanctuary. It’s supposed to be a secret. And Dumbledore isn’t happy about it.”

Ron sighed. “That’s what bothers me most. Dad, he took you to Snape right? So dad must have known, or hoped… why didn’t he take you to Dumbledore?”

“Did you know your parents tried to adopt me?” Harry asked softly. “Dumbledore turned them away. I think Arthur wanted me away from the Dursleys and he knew it would take a Head of House. There aren’t a lot of those left these days and Snape’s about the only one he knew that he could trust not to kill me. I’ve got my own room, Ron, and food, and it’s safe. He told me about my mum.” Harry blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. “He’s going to put together a pensive for me. I’m supposed to meet him and Lupin tomorrow night to see them.”

“That’s good.” Ron didn’t look happy but he seemed resigned. “I’m glad you are going to get to see them, I am. I just… I’m still your friend right?”

“My Best Friend.” Harry bumped his shoulder. “Just because I’m not living with the Dursleys and I’ve got another friend doesn’t mean you get replaced. You, me, Hermione, we are inseparable.” Harry paused and then took a deep breath. “I hated keeping secrets. It’s… now you know everything and it’s better.”

“Once when I was seven I tried to steal Charlie’s wand so I could turn Ginny into a boy. I thought she got too much attention. It backfired and it took a week for St. Mungos to turn me back.” Ron admitted in a tight voice. “There. That’s my last secret. Now you know everything.”

“It’s not a contest.” Harry laughed. “Does Ginny remember that?”

“She was too little. I think Charlie’s the only one who knew exactly what had had happened. He had to go into the Ministry and get the underage magic use off his record.” Ron blushed scarlet. “You, you won’t tell anyone?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Just Hermione.”

“She knows. I told her before I came out here. I don’t think we should have secrets anymore. It sucks, mate.”

“Yeah, it does.” Harry nodded. “Now, will you come fly with me? I can’t take any more of this girly today.”

“yeah,” Ron grinned. “Will you lob a few quaffles at me? I want to practice a new move I read about.”

“Sure.” Harry agreed easily. “Let’s get you a broom out of the shed.”

They spent several hours on the pitch, until they lost light. It wasn’t quite the solitary activity Harry had been craving but it was nice. They put Ron’s borrowed school broom away and were heading back when a figure detached itself from the shadows by a tree. It took a few seconds for Harry to recognize her.

“Millie?” Harry asked, jogging to get closer, Ron on his heels. “What’s wrong?”

Millicent’s face was puffy from tears and she held a letter in one shaking hand. “He actually did it.”

“What?” Harry asked, reaching for the letter but Ron beat him to it, snatching it from her. “What’s wrong?”

“The crazy bastard actually did it.” Millicent repeated, awe and shock in her voice. “He actually made Bulstrode a minor House to…to Black. He…he gave us one of the titles, Harry. Just, just signed it over.”

“Merlin’s balls,” Ron hissed, his own hand shaking as he read the letter. “Harry, your godfather is one stand-up guy. This is, this is major.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry looked between the two, confused. “How can he just sign over a title?”

“It’s not like the muggle world.” Ron handed the letter back to Millicent who tucked it into her pocket. “Magic and titles are bound in blood, but a Head of House can choose how they flow. So family magics, while always sort of there for anybody with the right blood, they aren’t really concentrated enough to mean much until a Head of House sort of wills it. With so few purebloods anymore, most of the Ancient Houses are gone in fact, most of the Noble Houses have several titles clustered under them. The Wizengamot passed a rule that once a line goes more than a generation without a distinct heir they lose their seat, so if you are Black’s heir, and the Potter heir, you could end up with both seats in the Wizengamot but if you only have one son, he’s going to have to pick which seat to keep and the other will go away unless the Wizengamot votes to reactive it. They haven’t done that in centuries. But even without the seat, the title still exists inside the family magics, waiting. He’s gone and activated the family magics from a distant blood relation and handed them over to Millicent’s dad. He’s recognized him as a son of the House of Black. Not only that, he’s passed on one of those dormant titles. It’s, it’s a big deal, Harry. Like really big.”

Millicent nodded, tears in her eyes. “We always knew we were an illegitimate off branch but nobody ever recognizes those. I know you don’t know much about how the wizarding world works, Harry, but, if you don’t have a family name behind you it’s hard to get a good job and even if you do land one they are likely going to pay you less and you won’t get promoted. Add in creature blood and it’s, it’s nearly impossible. Just by recognizing da as a legitimate son of the House of Black means there’s a chance folks will hire him. They’ll be scared to turn him away, afraid to anger the Lord Black. And with a title, even without the seat…” She trailed off a stunned look on her face. “Da said he gave us the vault too, and there’s enough there to build a proper house and give me a dowry.”

“You don’t need a dowry.” Harry bit out, and then blushed at the look both his friends gave him. “I’m just saying, anybody worthy of you won’t care about that.”

“I care.” Millicent stated softly. “It means something to a witch to go into a marriage with a dowry. That’s her insurance. If the marriage fails that’s all she’s entitled to take with her. It’s hers to spend or save. Her husband can’t touch it. I read once that muggles did it differently, but for a witch, that’s her lifeline.”

“Yeah, mate, it, it’s really important.” Ron grimaced slightly. “My parents don’t have much but they put back some every month for Ginny. Bill and Charlie they send some home too, just for that. We aren’t a House, nobody expects us to have a lot of resources, but Ginny is a pureblood. They’ve been turning away marriage contracts since she was born. Some with titles and seats. If Ginny, well, she can marry whoever she likes of course but it’s tempting, I expect, to have all that wealth dangled in front of her and if she chooses badly… we have to give her a way out.”

“It’s different if you are bonded of course.” Millicent explained. “A magical bonding can’t be broken as easily as a marriage. The lesser magical is absorbed into the greater’s magical heritage, and if the family magics accept them, that means it’s a good match. The two’s magic starts to entwine. You can’t just pull it apart again after that. But hardly anybody does a bonding these days. You can’t just arrange a bonding, it has to be chosen and.. well it has to work. Magical adoptions and bonded marriages are just not predictable and if you try it and it doesn’t work, it can damage the family magic of both lines.”

“It’s really rare to risk it.” Ron explained with a grim expression. “Dad said once that his and mum’s bonding was one of only two in a generation – at least that anybody talked about. Your parents were the other one, Harry. Potter’s always bond.”

Potters always bond. That felt ominous. But Harry rather liked the thought of it, liked the idea of his magic getting so tangled up in his love’s that nobody could separate them into two ever again. Sure, it sounded like it could get really messy but if you were sure, really sure, than why would you not?

“Of course there’s different types of bonds.” Millicent continued, clearly not having noticed the longing that flashed over Harry’s face for the briefest of moments, or choosing not to comment on it if she had. “Marriage and adoption are only two. You find siblings can often bond, those of blood or those of choice.”

“Siblings of choice?” Harry paused and turned to look at her, thinking about the conversation between Sirius and Severus, about what his mum and Severus had done as children. “What is that?”

“Mate,” Ron looked a little uncomfortable. “It’s, it’s not done, not anymore, or I’d have said something…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not upset we haven’t done it, Ron. I want to know what it is.”

“Oh.” Ron looked slightly sheepish. “Well, the twins have mingled so much their magical cores are, well, pretty much one core. Apparently mum and dad tried to get them to stop but it just kept happening. See, there’s a regular bond you get with just being siblings but that’s like just the family magics, nothing special. Then there’s bonds like the twins, where they’ve let their magics merge, and that’s a sibling of choice. Technically it can happen between any two kids but you have to be around each other a lot, when you are really young, and your magic has to be super compatible. It’s a form of accidental magic. So it’s sort of rare for it happen to anybody that’s not already related, like blood siblings or cousins.”

“That’s one way.” Millicent agreed. “There is a ritual. It basically brings someone into your house at the level of a sibling, and confers on them some of the family magic. Technically it’s very similar to a magical adoption. It’s also called a sibling of choice, although you can’t get a stronger bond than what Ronald was talking about with his brothers. That’s sort of the epic kind, and the ritual is like the run of the mill kind I suppose.”

Harry frowned, thinking again about his mum and Severus. He knew, from his mum’s book and from the stories Severus told, that they’d been really close as children before Hogwarts. Sirius had mentioned something about cores. They hadn’t mentioned a bond, but thinking back it had been rather implied, if you knew what a bond was. Once again Harry was missing key information because he just didn’t know enough about the things purebloods just knew. “But people don’t do the ritual anymore?” he finally settled on, Ron’s earlier worry making sense.

“People don’t do bonds much anymore.” Ron shrugged. “Family magics aren’t exactly well understood and they can react pretty violently if you try to invoke them and they don’t approve. Why risk it? I mean, you’re my best friend I don’t need a complicated bloody ritual to know that.”

Harry smiled and bumped his shoulder into Ron’s. “Still it sounds like something folks ought to know about. Why don’t they teach this stuff?”

Millicent gave a pout upon sigh. “Because it’s Old Magic, and it only works if you have family magics. Most of the halfbloods don’t have much if any access, and of course muggleborns haven’t got it at all. A Head of Family has to will the magics into each child of the House, or you’ve got to be the last option alive in which cases the Family Magics sort of just flow that way. Very few of the old families would will any magic to anybody that they considered unworthy.”

“Stingy bastards.” Ron huffed. “Dad always says that’s why the old families are dying off. They got too picky about who to pass the family magics onto and it all started to get too limited. You heard the elves the other day. Family magics thrive when there’s lots of members, but a lot of the old purebloods wanted to have it super concentrated in just a few. Well, when you do that it’s real easy to end a line.”

“I can’t imagine not wanting to recognize a baby.” Harry frowned and shook his head. “I mean, I don’t want to recognize the Dursley’s as family but they are like adults. If Dudley ever has a child, and for some reason I end up with custody, I wouldn’t hesitate to consider them family. They would be totally innocent. How can anybody look at a little baby and not want it?”

Ron didn’t seem to get what he was saying but Millie’s eyes grew suspiciously bright. “Oh Harry,” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “That’s because you are a decent human being, and the Dursleys are the worst sort of muggles.” She paused and sighed. “Not that there aren’t some spectacularly bad examples of wizards too.”

Harry was quiet for a while, but he didn’t let go of her hand, and Ron looked at him with a strange expression on his face but just shook his head when Harry glanced at him. They separated as they neared the castle, Millicent taking an extra lap around the outer courtyard so they wouldn’t be seen going in together, and Harry and Ron set of for Gryffindor tower. They were only a short corridor away when Ron pulled him into an alcove.

“You are such a Potter.” He stated, with a slight chuckle in his voice. “Dad told me, as a joke after first year, that I should watch for this and I thought he was pulling my leg.”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The Potter Curse.” Ron shrugged and leaned back against the wall. “Apparently it’s an inside joke around Purebloods that you guys always fall, and fall hard, for some witch in like first year.”

Lupin and Sirius had told him his father had declared on the train in first year that he was going to marry that red head. Harry had thought it was romantic. But it was part of some kind of a joke? “How often has that happened for it to be so… well known?”

“Mate,” Ron patted his shoulder. “I forget sometimes that you don’t know this stuff. Lupin told you about your dad, but your grandfather apparently met your grandmother at some house party or something the summer before Hogwarts and then followed her around like a puppy for the next seven years. Then there was your uncle - Dorea Black had been promised to some guy in France, if I remember right, and it was a huge scandal when she broke it off and eloped with Charlus and the story goes that they’d started planning it in second year. Henry, your great-grandfather made a complete fool of himself trying to propose in the second week of classes to a first year when he was in seventh because he said he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone beating him to it if he waited. He’d only known her since the train.” Ron shook his head. “Even if you hadn’t been famous everyone would have been waiting to see if you did the same thing.”

Harry’s stomach lurched. “You know my Great-Grandfather’s name? I… I didn’t even know.”

“His mum was a Weasley and Percy went on this genealogy kick when I was like seven. He made me memorize all of it.” Ron pulled a face. “It was terrible but mum thought it was cute or something so she let him get away with drilling me on it. And the thing with Dorea Black is still apparently getting gossiped about. My Aunt Muriel wouldn’t stop talking about it at Yule last year when she heard we were friends. Apparently they had a son who left England and nobody knows where he went. Some people think the Black’s had him killed to get back at her for breaking off her betrothal contract. But mum says that’s rubbish. That he probably left because of the war and is in America or something sensible for the ‘young unattached wizard who doesn’t want to risk his neck’. But dad says…” he trailed doff. “You look a little pale.” He mumbled.

Harry sat down and leaned against the back of the alcove. “How can you know so much about my family and I didn’t even know I was part Indian until like a month ago.”

Ron sat down slowly. “I’m sorry. I… I would have told you if you’d asked.”

Harry laughed, bitterly. “I never thought anybody would know. My Aunt Petunia doesn’t even talk about her parents. I didn’t know anything about them until this summer. It’s like my past is this giant black hole and I, I gave up knowing.” Harry hung his head. “When I was little we had this class assignment. We were supposed to fill out this family history chart back like three generations and write a little essay about someone on it. I didn’t know how to do it so I asked. Aunt Petunia hit me with a spatula and locked me in the cupboard for the entire weekend. The teacher was going to fail me on it until Dudley made a crack about me being an orphan and she realized that I couldn’t do it. She gave me half credit because Dudley had a full chart so she said I should have been able to do at least half. But he’d refused to show me his and I’d been too scared to ask a second time.”

“That’s messed up, mate.” Ron was quiet for a long minute. “There’s books on this stuff in the library. Purebloods love writing up directories and things. I’m sure we could get your dad’s side fleshed out. Probably back to like the dark ages or something. Your family is really old.”

Harry laughed, a little bitterly. “Great. Hermione did say she read about me in a book. I just, I just don’t want to learn about them like that. You know?” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have to learn about myself out of some bloody history book.”

Ron was quiet for a long time before he finally, hesitantly spoke. “I know you are… funny, sometimes, about asking questions. I figure the muggles must have not reacted well. But you know, Snape seemed, well, not like he was going to turn you into a potion ingredient the other day. You could ask him things. Lupin, he’s your steward, so you are supposed to talk to him. I know I’m not the best at this pureblood stuff, Percy was the one who cared about it the most, and Bill had to learn some things since he’s the oldest, but you can ask me too. Oh and there’s Neville. He knows all about it since he’s set to be Lord Longbottom one day.”

“I didn’t even know that until this year.” Harry hung his head. “I just haven’t been paying attention I guess.”

“What between the dark lord on the back of a teachers head you dealt with first year, and you know the giant murderous snake last year, you had loads of time.” Ron rolled his eyes. “This is really the first time you’ve had a chance to worry about something other than surviving.” Ron’s nose scrunched. “That’s really depressing.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah tell me about it.”

Chapter Text

When he met up with Severus later that evening he found that Sirius had sent him a letter too, via Lupin, along with a box full of silver vials. “Memories.” Lupin explained with a smile. “He wanted to share some for the pensive as well. He…” Lupin gave a tired sigh. “This was hard for him, Harry. The dementors amplify negative memories and it can be hard to recall anything happy. After a while they start to sort of fade. He’s clinging to what he can remember and sometimes it’s difficult for him to be truly present, as a human. To extract a memory makes it feel oddly dull while it’s not in your head so he’d like these back. He doesn’t have as many as he used to.”

“That’s horrifying.” Harry muttered, eyeing the vials with more distrust now. “You didn’t tell me this would hurt you guys.”

Snape shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt, Harry. And the memories are not removed, exactly, just copied. The process does make them less… there, in a way, but it is temporary. So long as the memory is returned the feeling dissipates. If not, it does become less noticeable as you think on it less.”

Lupin poured a vile into the ornate bowl. “Let’s do Sirius’ first shall we? We’ll wait out here so you can view them in private.”

BREAK

Harry headed to dinner that night in something of a daze. The memory viewing had been… difficult, in a way he hadn’t expected. Sirius’ memories were mostly about his dad and seemed to have a lot to do with pranks and jokes, many of which Harry didn’t find particularly funny. They clearly were enjoying themselves at the expense of others, and it made the vague notion that he would probably not have gotten along with his father even more real. Apparently unable to resist, Sirius had even added in a memory of the day they’d tormented Severus so badly that he’d lashed out at Lily. All but two were focused on their school years. The letter had been different, mostly small stories about the village and a note about what he’d done to give the Bulstrodes more status. Something of his anger at the memories must have been present on his face because Lupin had hastily told him that “all boys grow up”. Severus had been tellingly silent.

Lupin’s memories, on the other hand, had a lot more of his mother in them and seemed to be mostly concentrated on the short time they’d all had together after Hogwarts and before Lupin had been sent off on Order business. There was one of them all together the night after graduation, Sirius and James lost without school or family to turn to, with Lupin and Lily trying to cheer them up. Lily had apparently dragged Lupin along with a witch named Mary to shop for her wedding robes. Lupin had barely made the wedding on time, having gotten caught in an Order mission, but he managed and James just laughed at seeing him skid into the room with twigs in his hair. The last memory was when Harry was three months old and Sirius was twirling him in the air while Lily fussed with something in the kitchen and James was, for some strange reason, resting as a stag on the hearth rug in the living room.

Severus’ first memory was meeting Lily in a play park. She seemed angelic, hair floating in the magic she unknowingly cast as she flew on the swing. There was one with his grandparents, and Aunt Petunia, a family dinner where Severus sat awkwardly at the table unsure what to do – he’d never had a meal at a table like a family before. Another when they got their Hogwarts letters, and another on the boats going up to the castle. Severus seemed to concentrate on summer memories, many having his grandparents in them as well, until they abruptly ended just before the incident that his mother had hinted at in her journal, and that Sirius had so callously included.

Harry thanked them both, and told Lupin to give Sirius a hug from him, and feeling a little numb had made a vague statement about dinner. He wasn’t really hungry but he didn’t feel like staying in Severus’ quarters to discuss any of what he saw. He was to likely to scream at Lupin and he didn’t need to have spent the summer in Severus’ company to know the man would be mortified if he knew the content of Sirus’ memories – and Harry didn’t feel like having his new guardian end up in Azkaban for killing his godfather anytime soon.

At dinner, Hermione and Ron took up station one on either side and kept anyone from approaching. Apparently Hermione must have warned Ron not to ask questions because while his redheaded friend kept starting to ask something he’d freeze mid word and then revert to quidditch. For her part, Hermione just offered up her usual banter related to assignments and speculation on the next round of exams they might face. Harry could feel Severus’ eyes on him from the staff table at several points but apparently the desire to be left alone to brood was one the potion master understood because he made no move to intercept the trio as they left the Great Hall. Lupin looked like he might but then trailed off to talk to the Weasley twins about something.

“Look mate,” Ron started in as soon as they rounded the corner and left the throng of students behind. No one had mentioned a destination so by some sort of unconscious consent they’d started to wander to one of the lesser used 6th floor corridors that lead away from the dormitories and towards the owlery. It was close enough to the Gryffindor common room they could get back in a hurry but far enough from common paths it would give them a chance to talk without having to fend off over eager Creeveys. Ron sighed as they found a large window seat and all three piled on. “Look, I’m not going to ask you anything specific. If you want to share we’ll listen, you know we will, but if you don’t I understand.” Ron looked slightly ill as he said it. “But I just want to make sure you are okay.”

Harry picked at the edge of his robe. “It’s just hard, trying to get to know people that are gone. It’s like, everyone who talks about them only knew one piece. Or they only care to remember that piece. Even with the memories it’s, it’s hard, to know what’s what.”

“Nobody ever really knows their parents.” Hermione stated with a sad smile. “They have roles to play and I think they hide parts of themselves from us, at least while we are kids. If you asked me what my mum was like when she was my age, I’d have no real idea. I’ve heard one or two stories, mostly from my grandparents meant to embarrass mum but that doesn’t tell me who she was. Or is. I know what she does for a living, and her favorite food, and what color she likes to wear and I know the type of person she is but I’m her daughter, not her best friend. And that’s okay, Harry. You don’t need that pensive to know the most important things about your parents.”

Harry closed his eyes tightly. “What are those?”

“That they loved you.” Ron stated in a soft voice. “They wanted you safe enough that they gave up their lives to take you into hiding.”

“Your mum was sentimental – she kept her parents’ home, and that journal, I bet she had all your baby clothes tucked away in a box.” Hermione sounded like she was smiling and Harry opened his eyes to find he was right, but it was a sad sort of smile. “She loved deeply, and never really stopped even when she was mad at someone, she still cared. That sounds like a very warm person, like you are.”

“And your dad, he was brave alright – your mum too really.” Ron continued. “But not stupid about it either. They went up against You-Know-Who but they didn’t take risks they didn’t need to. They were planners, careful.”

“We know they didn’t get along at first, because James wasn’t always the nicest.” Hermione gently stated, reaching for Harry’s hand. “You’ve shared that much already. But he grew up, Harry. He grew up and Lily saw that, and they had you and he probably looked down at your tiny wrinkled little new born face and vowed he’d be a better man. I have it on good authority that all dad’s do that that are worth the having.”

Harry huffed. “Who told you that?”

“My own father.” Hermione bit her lip. “My uncle, he’s… not a great person. We don’t let him come around because dad’s worried about him bringing drugs into the house. When my cousin was born, dad went up to the hospital to help Melanie out – she was my uncle’s girlfriend. It was short notice so dad couldn’t get a sitter and I went with. My uncle, when he held his son, he didn’t say it. He just went on and on about the baby’s nose. Dad was livid. He told Melanie that was her proof, that she needed to cut him loss, because if holding his son wasn’t enough to convince my uncle to get sober nothing ever would be.”

“I didn’t know you have an uncle.” Harry admitted sheepishly. “You know all about my family and I don’t think I’ve ever really asked about yours.”

Hermione sighed. “I don’t have an uncle, not anymore. He died of an overdose a few months before I came to Hogwarts. Melanie won’t talk to us, or let us see my cousin. She thinks it was dad’s fault that his brother died, because dad wouldn’t give him money for the ‘good stuff’ as she called it. Mum was an only child. Not a big family.”

Ron looked slightly sheepish. “Honestly I don’t know how many cousins there are. I mean mum’s brothers both died in the war, and dad was an only child but my grandfather had 14 siblings and THEY all had at least one kid a piece. A lot of them left too, got out of Britain after Grindelwald fell. I think dad stopped trying to keep track after Gramps died.”

Harry couldn’t imagine wasting family, but then, for all he knew, his grandparents had had 14 siblings too. He had no way to know.

“Look,” Hermione stated with a sad sort of determination settling on her. “It doesn’t matter really, what you saw, at least not about who your parents were. It’s nice you got to see it but it’s just snippets, tiny little home movies, not much better than photographs. What it really says is what the people are like who picked them out. They must have selected things they thought you’d like to see and that says more about them than it does your mum and dad.”

“Great,” Harry sighed. “So Sirius is a bully, Snape clearly loved my mum, and Lupin… really wants a family?” He quickly filed them in on the general content of the memories.

Hermione shook her head. “Or, Sirius has a very juvenile since of humor and is probably stunted from over a decade in prison and had very few good memories to choose – likely the dementors only left alone the memories that are sort of good and bad at the same time. Ask him to do this again in a year or so and I bet the tone is completely different. And Professor Snape did love your mum, like I love you and Ron loves you. I doubt he was in love with her in a romantic sense – most of those memories were before Hogwarts or in the first two years. Their great fight, and what happened afterwards, probably just makes it sharper for him. Here’s his only friend from childhood, in danger, and he can’t stop it. Imagine if something happened to Neville and you blamed yourself and 12 years later his son asks you for memories of him?” Harry grimaced and Hermione nodded before continuing. “And Lupin, he knows that what you want is a family, Harry, so he showed you what that looked like. I imagine he, he probably just wanted to remember what it felt like to belong somewhere. Unquestioningly.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He sat, staring at his hands in his lap, until Ron broke the silence finally.

“Merlin you both are depressing.” Ron muttered and thumped his head against the glass of the window. “Can’t we talk about something a little less loaded?”

“Like the transfiguration essay we have due in two days?” Hermione supplied and both boys groaned.

BREAK

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were walking to DADA the next day and before they rounded the corner they stopped short at the sneering tones of Draco Malfoy in full bluster. Hermione put her arm out to stop the boys from moving, likely wanting to hear exactly what was being said. The rest of Gryffindor were somewhere behind them, and with a look Harry sent Ron back a ways down the corridor to make sure they didn’t come any closer. This was likely to get ugly.

“I’d like to know,” Draco’s pompous voice rang out clear, the sounds of chuckling and shifting feet telling them that the rest of the Slytherins were all gathered at the door. “…what it is that you promised Lord Black to get him to announce a title transfer. Father says he sent a letter to the Wizengamot, while on the run! You certainly didn’t bribe him, and there’s no way he’d have taken you in trade. Even 12 years in Azkaban wouldn’t make a wizard that desperate.” The last was said with a distinct hint of disgust.

Hermione paled at the implication but Harry saw red. Hermione had to grab onto his robe to stop him from charging around the corner.

“Maybe they gave him shelter.” A feminine voice offered up, amusement clear in the cultured but harsh tones. “A half breed shack is probably better than a muggle cardboard box, barely.”

“The Ministry searched their hovel last night.” Malfoy scuffed. “Nothing but a single room, my father said, with a dirt floor. No way does a Lord stay there, even a disgraced one.”

“I heard he gave them a vault, for a dowery.” Pansy Parkinson spoke up, laugher in her tone. “As if you’d ever need one.”

Harry finally broke away from Hermione’s grasp and shot around the corner. Millicent was backed up against the wall, trying to look unaffected, but he could see tears almost ready to fall. Malfoy and Parkinson were hemming her in on both sides and the rest of their year was standing in a cluster across the way, watching with amusement. Millie’s eyes met his and Harry’s hand twitched for his wand.

“Malfoy,” He stated calmly, coldly, breaking eye contact to focus on his rival. “I thought Slytherins stuck together. Wasn’t that a primary rule of your House, no fighting in public?”

Malfoy sneered. “This wasn’t a fight, Potter. We were just reminding someone of their place.”

“Oh,” Harry blinked in mock confusion. “So you were congratulating your housemate on her family’s good fortune? I must have misheard. Or were you wishing her luck on Lord Black’s acquittal at the upcoming trial?” Harry turned his attention back to Millicent. “My godfather, Lord Black, wrote me yesterday to tell me how highly he thinks of your father, Miss Bulstrode. I was delighted to know he had some family left after all.”

It was a low blow, discounting the Malfoy ties to the Black family, and one Harry wouldn’t have even thought to employ a few months ago. But conversations with Neville and Snape had taught him quite a bit about how to insult a Pureblood and while the Malfoy’s had money, there were not anywhere in social prestige like the Blacks. Lucius Malfoy marrying a daughter of the House of Black had actually been considered marrying down for Narcissa in the day.

Malfoy’s face turned purple, but Harry ignored him. Lupin’s head had appeared in the classroom door, a concerned expression making his eyebrows bunch, and Harry took a chance and held out his arm. “May I escort you in, Miss Bulstrode? We have an extra seat at our table if you’d like to sit with us.”

Millicent blinked and then smiled, slyly, and took his arm. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Potter.” She put an emphasis on the title and stuck her head up high. They brushed past a fuming Malfoy and settled at the usual table near the front, Hermione and Ron taking up the two outer seats without a word to keep Harry and Millicent protected in the center.

“This may not be a good idea.” Hermione hissed. “This could make her more of a target.”

“It was this or I murder two people in the hallway.” Harry insisted, venom dripping from his words. “That is still a realistic option.”

Ron chuckled slightly. “I was sooo right.”

Millicent, confused, eyed him but didn’t ask. Malfoy and his group had pushed Neville out of the seat behind them and taken up a spot there, probably just to sneer at their backs, but they couldn’t afford to be overheard.

Lupin, seeming to realize something of what must have happened outside his classroom, started the lecture immediately and when class dismissed made it a point to hold Malfoy and Parkinson back to talk about something on their essays, thus giving the group time to depart. Without a word, Millicent walked with them to the end of the hall where their paths diverged and she walked as fast as she could away without looking like she was running. The rest of the Slytherins seemed to be hesitant to leave without Malfoy and Parkinson and the Golden Trio left them lingering in the hallway.

BREAK

“Millie?” Harry asked softly, stepping into the greenhouse. She hadn’t been at dinner and a little careful use of the map had pinpointed her alone in the greenhouse. “Are you okay?” Soft sobs reached his ears before he rounded the corner and saw her.

She was sitting on the bench they often transfigured, her cloak wrapped around her and her cat sitting next to her, one paw on her leg as if trying to offer comfort. Millicent’s face was blotchy and red, like she’d spent the last few hours crying in all likelihood. Harry moved forward and sat on her other side and shared a strangely meaningful look with the cat. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you today.” He offered, memories of the fight that Snape and his mum had shared flashing before his eyes, but Millie just shook her head. When she didn’t say anything Harry held up a handkerchief. “What’s wrong?”

“Pansy was right.” Millicent admitted, dabbing at her eyes as fresh tears started to leak out. “Sirius giving da the title, it’s really nice, and we can use the money for sure but what’s the point in giving me a dowry? If anybody ever does want to marry me it’s going to be another half-bred and we’ll use it up on food and medicine soon enough and I won’t have it if I need it later. I’ll never be able to save it like a proper witch, or invest it, or whatever it is Pansy will do with hers. My kind don’t get dowries. Merlin I’ll be lucky if I even get a husband instead of getting knocked up by some birk. Nobody would ever want me for a wife.”

“I would.” Harry spoke before he thought about it and when Millicent froze next to him Harry knew he couldn’t take it back. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do with my life than spend it with you.”

“Friends, right?” Millicent’s tone was bitter and she turned to stand up, knocking her cat off the bench accidentally.

Harry reached down and picked up the cat and held it gently on his lap. It started purring right away. “If that was all I could have but it’s not all I want.” He admitted softly, eyes on the cat rather than her face. “Look, I know we are young, and you probably don’t feel that way and it’s okay. I mean, we kissed and it was great and I know I’m probably not normal. What thirteen year old boy… but I just know, Millie. I just know.”

She snorted. “You just say that because you heard about that stupid Potter curse malarky. It’s a joke, Harry, not a life plan you have to follow.”

Harry looked up at her. She seemed fragile, like she was ready for someone to hit her. “I didn’t know about that until after I’d already realized it. Ron told me it as a joke and I didn’t know how to tell him for me it was true. I think I fell in love with you that first time we sat here and talked, and you shared that cake with me. I spent the entire summer thinking about you and missing you and now, this year, Millicent I know what I feel. You don’t have to say it back. But please, don’t ever think nobody would want you. I want you. I will always want you.”

Chapter Text

“I want to be there.” Harry insisted, softly, his hand clenched into a fist. The Headmaster had called him up to his office after dinner to discuss Sirius’ case, and Harry was thankful that Severus had seen the message arrive that morning and held him back to ask later in class. If Harry had had to come alone he was sure by now he would have done something unforgivable. “I have a right to be there for the trial. Both as his godson and as Lord Potter.”

“Harry,” The headmaster looked slightly ill. “You are far too young to worry about claiming your title.”

“He was too young when he was orphaned; he’s too old to just be learning about it now.” Snape supplied with a scowl, his hand shooting out to hold onto Harry’s shoulder. “And that is beside the point. Harry cannot yet claim his familiar seat in the Wizengamot but he has the right to attend any and all meetings he so wishes. Provisions have been made for heir’s in the past to attend the court as witness. As the current Lord Potter, and the heir to the House of Black, he would be remiss in his duties were he not in attendance. Tongues would wag. The Lords and Ladies of the court have long memories. You do not wish to put him at a disadvantage for when he can take up his seat do you?”

Dumbledore looked angry for a split second before his expression morphed into sadness with a practiced ease. “Severus, I assure you I want Harry to be in the best possible position politically when it comes time for him to enter that particular battle field. However, while I am sure Sirius’ case is of great personal concern to Harry, there are other matters before the court in the next few weeks. Lord Malfoy has proposed several troubling bills and I cannot do my best to fight against them if Harry is in the court and attracting undue attention to our cause at the wrong time, and in the wrong way. I am sure that if he understood the matter the way I do he would agree with me fully. Personal needs must give way to the greater good.”

“Our cause?” Harry leaned forward slightly. “And what cause would that be exactly? Because right now I have one single cause on my mind, Headmaster, and that is the cause of justice. What good is a high court if they cannot oversee the trial of one man? Sirius has waited over a decade for his day in court and I intend to see he has it and to take note of every single man or woman who stands in the way of truth. I may not be able to take my seat now, but one day I will, and it is not only the Lords and Ladies of the court that have a long memory.” Harry put every ounce of his anger into his look as he stared down the headmaster. “You do not want to be in the wrong column on my ledger, Headmaster.” Severus’ hand tightened on his shoulder but Harry did not let up his glare. “Now what cause of yours do think is greater than mine? And if you say defeating Voldemort I walk away. What good is winning against a Dark Lord if the side that wins has no sense of justice either?”

Dumbledore’s blue eyes hardened. “You are a child.”

“True.” Harry conceded with a tiny shrug. “But I am also Lord Potter and Heir Black and the Boy Who Lived. While I’ve never particularly cared for attention or titles I have rather a lot of both. Plenty of gallons too. So if there’s some cause I should be investing my time and money on, please Headmaster enlighten me. Where our goals align I have no issues working with you, but considering we’ve never once had a discussion about anything beyond the walls of this school I find it particularly difficult to trust that all our aims are in alignment on nothing but your say so.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Slytherins, Harry. You are starting to sound like them.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve spent nearly enough time actually and I intend to remedy that. In the meantime, I will be attending my godfather’s trial. After his release, I will be returning with Professor Snape to his home for the summer while Sirius receives the best of care somewhere safe and way from the British media. These are non-negotiable.”

Dumbledore was doing his best to tamp down his anger but the air in the office was heavy with tension and the set of the elderly wizard’s shoulders betrayed exactly how he felt. “I do not care for ultimatums, Harry, and you are hardly in a position to make demands.”

“Actually, those are my terms.” Severus spoke quietly but his tone held no room for argument. “As Harry is under my protection via Sanctuary until he is of age, his summer placement is up to my discretion and I will not be allowing him out of sight. I have made arrangements for Black’s treatment already. I cannot deny them access to one another but I will not have Harry around that man while he is in the precarious mental state he is currently in. Not that he was ever particularly stable, but Azkaban has done him no favors.”

Albus sighed. “My boys, there are other matters that will be put forward in this session. Some of the traditionalist set has decided to reintroduce a rather old and ill-advised piece of legislation that I have no doubt you both will understand the necessity of defeating.”

“And you think my presence will somehow undermine those efforts?”

The headmaster looked older as he nodded. “Yes, I do. Nothing galvanizes that set more than a reminder of their failure under their Lord. Some of them who might have voted against it out of spite to old blood feuds or an attempt to seem more neutral will flock to the banner if I wave the Boy Who Lived in their faces. And sadly, some of the Light have been duped to think it a good thing.”

“And what,” Snape sneered, “Is this piece of legislation?”

“A muggle born registration. It is disguised as a way to protect them, make it easier for magical help to arrive if there’s an accident or injury. But it is much more sinister than that. Should Voldemort ever rise, a registration with tracking abilities would allow his followers to locate and murder every muggleborn in the country in hours.”

Harry’s heart froze. “You can’t be serious.”

“Your godfather’s trial is the perfect opportunity. Those who believe him guilty think the Dark Lord is behind his escape and has bought off the Ministry. Or worse, that he himself is a rising Dark Lord. In protest many have announced they will not be in attendance. Which means they will not be in the session to vote against the legislation. It was a last minute addition to the agenda, no doubt done after the protest was announced. If they were to attend now, after so publicly stating they would not, they would lose face. We cannot afford to rile up the traditionalist set any more than they already are.” Albus looked weary as he explained. “At my best guess we are three votes short of stopping passage. Unless I can convince three of the protest faction to attend, or swing three of the traditionalist our way…”

Severus launched into some sort of argument but Harry’s mind had already turned to the dark pictures from history he’d seen in his muggles schooling. This registration sounded like the first step to a genocide. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let people like Hermione and Dean…

“What does the law say about who exactly is muggleborn?” Harry asked softly, but Severus stopped arguing with the headmaster immediately at the underlying tone. Harry looked up him, “What exactly is the definition?”

Severus cocked his head to the side and regarded him for a long moment. “Do you have an exact copy of the legislation?”

“yes,” Dumbledore shuffled papers on his desk and eventually retrieved a purple tinted sheaf of parchment. “It’s rather antiquated language, I’m afraid. It was originally introduced in 1745. It has never managed to pass, although it has been brought forward with only minor revisions at least once a century ever since.”

Harry took the parchment and scanned it. “It’s not about ancestry.” He couldn’t help a slight feeling of triumph as he read it. “They’ve defined it all along House lines, and bloodlines, but the language gives greater preference to House affiliation.”

Snape grabbed the parchment out of his hands and read it, his dark eyes latching onto Harry’s with a gleam of equal dark amusement in them. “Those pompous idiots.” He intoned, a near smile turning up his lip. “They talk so greatly of the importance of the Old Ways they haven’t even understood their own bill.” Severus tossed the parchment towards Dumbledore absently. “Take Harry with you to the session, Albus. We can defeat them at their own game easily enough and in grand enough fashion to keep them muzzled for a good long while.”

Dumbledore picked the parchment up and scanned again. “I do not see what you two are seeing. The language is antiquated…”

“But still completely relevant.” Harry leaned forward in his chair. “The registration is for anyone not affiliated with a House, by marriage, birth, or oath. Technically we could argue that just getting sorted here puts you in oath to one of the Founders’ Houses, but beyond that we just need to offer House Affiliation. Neville and Severus have been explaining all this to me. Affiliation doesn’t even require any real promises on either side beyond a sort of tenant/landlord situation. I can easily extend affiliation to ANY muggleborn in Great Britain that wants it. The only thing I have to promise to do is represent their interests in the Wizengamot, and vote in ways I think would be in their best interests. They promise to not actively attempt to cheat, murder, or generally harm my family, or side with our stated enemies without renouncing the Affiliation first.” Harry shrugged. “It’s not even the level of fealty or being a vassal. It’s literally just a… just a mutual aid pact. Even better, it’s just for that witch or wizard, it doesn’t carry over into their children, and they can back out of it without penalty. But what I doubt they realize, is this doesn’t just apply to muggleborn. It’s ANYONE not connected to an actual House. Let it pass – we move publicly to protect anyone that needs it… and bang. You have most of Wizarding Britain having to either register with the Ministry or Affiliate with a House. If we can talk House Longbottom into making the offer as well, and I know Sirius will, and Severus can offer up House Prince, we’ll have four options that historically cover the full political spectrum. They get protected from the registry, and at the same time, it would be extremely difficult for them to work actively against us with Voldemort without violating the magic of the Affiliation oath. Nobody or next to nobody gets registered and it’s a laughing stock.”

“And,” Severus smirked darkly. “The irony of the progressive side rallying around Old House rules and utilizing them to their fullest will not please the dark traditionalist faction in the least.” Severus sounded like he would enjoy that more than anything.

Dumbledore looked shocked and uncomfortable. “But the idea of Houses is so limiting and exclusionary…”

“We aren’t suggesting they swear loyalty oaths.” Severus sneered. “It’s an affiliation! Barely more significant than picking a Quidditch team to support. Potter sends them a nice scarf for Christmas and earns their everlasting loyalty without any binds on their soul I promise you.”

Dumbledore took off his spectacles and rubbed at his nose. “Severus, please. You cannot buy loyalty with a Christmas scarf.”

“But you can gain a fuck you to the Ministry.” Harry replied with a shrug, enjoying the shocked look on the Headmaster’s face at his use of language. “Between Neville and I we can get every muggleborn in Hogwarts and good deal of the halfbloods to sign on in 48hrs I’d wager. So I will be going to the trial.” Harry leaned back in his chair and couldn’t help but glare at the headmaster. “And next time you plan on using me for something I’d recommend you talk to me about it first because right now I’m feeling fairly petty.”

The headmaster hung his head slightly. “I appreciate the warning.”

“Don’t appreciate it, do something with it.” Snape bit out and with a tug to Harry’s arm pulled them both out of the office. Thankfully the halls were empty as the potion master stormed to the dungeons with a quiet Harry Potter trailing him. Once safely in the potion master’s quarters something of the weight of the day seemed to pull Snape down into his chair where he sighed before looking up with dark eyes to regard his charge.

“You do understand that the little plan we just concocted up there is going to make you even more of a target.” Severus grimaced. “And will pull Longbottom in as well. I cannot actually offer up the House of Prince without being revealed. It will be down to the two of you unless you can pull in any of the other great houses.”

“That would be the Bones and Abbotts right now within Hogwarts?”

Severus shook his head. “The Abbotts are under the umbrella of the House of Longbottom. Not a terribly close relation but the house swore fealty sometime in the 1500s. Currently the Bones heir, Longbottom, Malfoy, and Nott are in Hogwarts with you. The Greengrass sisters are a side branch, but may be able to talk their uncle into doing so. They remained neutral in the last war. I doubt the Bones will. Amelia is the acting head after her brother was killed in the war, and Susan is the only remaining member of the main branch. I doubt she will want to risk the political fallout or her niece’s safety. Last I heard she was trying to arrange a marriage contract with Nott, with a clause that Susan would produce two heirs, one for each House and would have a choice of remaining in residence at her own Manor and not cohabitate with Theo.” Severus hesitated. “The House of Diggory is also Most Noble although they have not been seen to act as such for many generations. There was some sort of a scandal in the 1800s and their fortunes were diminished and they have yet to recover. I would think Cedric would agree but I doubt his father would. I do not understand how that House functions but it seems to be bent on remaining as separate from House duties as it can perhaps out of spite.”

“And we can’t use any of the Noble houses unless they stand alone, right? If they’ve sworn fealty to any of the Great Houses, then they can’t operate separately for something like this.” Harry asked.

“They could, actually, but I would advise against it.” Snape rubbed at his brow. “A Noble house, like Prince, is fully capable of an affiliation but it will not carry the full weight that a Most Noble and Ancient House would. Or at least not without some general public sentiment. House of Potter currently has a great deal more influence than it had under your father, for example, regardless of its Nobility simply for your fame. But I am unaware of a Noble house that is carrying that kind of popularity at the moment. I’m sure one or two might offer but it would be in the best interests of the muggleborns involved to stick with the handful of Most Noble if at all possible.” Snape took a deep measured breath. “Most Noble houses are in some ways designed for this, and culturally used to it. They will be less likely to breach the agreement or attempt to leverage it for their own gain. Most heirs at that level are brought up on the idea of public service, if with a healthy dose of politics.”

Harry sat for a long moment. “Hermione is going to be a holly terror.”

BREAK

“YOU WHAT!”

Harry grimaced and glanced over to Neville for support. The other boy shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. Hermione’s glare was piercing and Harry took a shuddering breath and a quick glance around the common room before he dared continue. The rest of Gryffindor’s muggleborn and a carefully curated group of purebloods and halfbloods were assembled and Harry had just explained the new law. “I told Dumbledore we’d offer House Affiliation to anyone that needed it, to escape the Ministry lists.”

“How could you go along with this, this,… “Hermione clearly couldn’t think of a word bad enough and threw her hands up in exacerbation.

Harry hung his head. “It was going to happen no matter what I did. I can’t take my seat until I’m 15, Hermione. There’s nothing I can do to stop it and Dumbledore said he thought they were three votes short of blocking it. I can’t exactly cancel Sirius’ trial, and if I sit out the trial it still won’t get Dumbledore the three votes he needs, and it will damage my reputation moving forward.” Harry looked up and met the shocked eyes of his housemates. “The only thing I can do is try to protect anyone that needs it. I’m hoping some of the other Houses, particularly the Ancient and Noble but any that can really, will do so too. It’s better if we can spread out the Affiliations so it’s not as easy down the road for any one House to get too much power.”

Neville stood up, looking slightly shaky. “House Longbottom stands with House Potter once more.” He made a solemn bow, somehow keeping his balance even though he looked like he might lose his lunch at any moment. “My grandmother has been extremely vocal about her distaste for this law.”

“The vote’s tomorrow morning.” Harry explained. “If it passes like we expect, there’s a three month window before it becomes active. That’s how long we will have to get everyone Affiliated, here in Hogwarts but also out there.” He waved his hand to encompass the rest of the wizarding world. “Neville and I are only two people, and I have very few connections. We’ll need you to help spread the word, to get everyone protected.”

A grim Percy cleared his throat. “How many of the Great Houses have agreed to this plan?”

“So far, you are looking at them.” Harry nodded towards Neville. “I thought it best to talk to Gryffindor first. As minors, this will hit our age hardest first since we are all under the trace and somewhat stuck here at school. Registrations will likely start here. And we have the highest concentration of muggleborn and halfbloods of all the houses. If this plan isn’t going to work, I need to know so I can try and figure an alternative out.”

“How do we know you aren’t doing this just to force us into swearing to you?” One of the first years asked, and Harry winced when he realized he had no idea what his name was.

Neville stepped forward to answer. “A House Affiliation isn’t like an oath. It’s just, it’s just a minor thing, like saying you like the Falcons more than the Cannons.” Harry smiled at the same quidditch analogy being used by both Snape and Neville with neither of them the wiser. “You are only promising not to intentionally harm the House you are Affiliated with. And the House is promising to act as your, your…” he fumbled for a word and surprisingly it was Percy who filled in the rest.

“The House is honor bound to be your petitioner in Court, to carry forth your interests and opinions to the Wizengamot.” He straighten his robe as the rest of the house turned to look at him. “It really was quite everyday not that long ago, and it only fell out of favor when the common seats of the Wizengamot were established and elected members were put into place. Prior to that, the only hope a commoner had of getting a hearing for justice, or having their opinions or concerns heard was if a Lord brought them forward. You had to petition a House and hope they felt inclined to do you a favor, unless you had an Affiliation, in which case the Lord had already promised to do so if you were ever in need. The Weasley family had a long standing Affiliation with the House of Montague until 1823, for example. Now if we want something brought up we have to go through the Ministry or petition one of the common seats. Gran often complains that it’s much harder to do now.”

“It’s barbaric. This entire system is exclusionary and designed to retain power into an elite and male dominated class of inbred idiots.” Hermione crossed her arms and glared. “I won’t be a part of it.”

“Sadly, while correct, you already are.” Fred offered with a grimace of his own. “Harry’s not lying. If Dumbledore is short the votes to stop this bill, than the best chance everyone’s got is to go into an Affiliation as fast as they can. There aren’t a lot of Great Houses left. Not even a lot of Noble ones. But it’s better than the Ministry.”

Neville nodded. “And I bet you Nott and Malfoy are going to offer as well.”

“What in the hell would they do that for? They are both racists!” Angelina spit out.

Neville shook his head. “Maybe, but they both take their rolls as Great Houses very seriously. If there’s going to be a revival in Affiliation they will feel obligated to do so. A lot of halfbloods that want to stay neutral in any growing conflicts will head to them. The affiliation will give them an accuse not to fight against You-Know-Who’s people without having to actually join them.”

“But You-Know-Who is gone.” Someone shouted.

“Maybe.” Padma replied, her dark eyes boring into Harry’s. “But the Death Eaters aren’t and it’s only a matter of time before they find a new leader. This bill, it seems like something they would push for if they didn’t see the flaw in it.”

“Dumbledore didn’t until I pointed it out. But the language is really old and hard to pick out. If I hadn’t been spending my spare time trying to read up on Houses I doubt I would have realized what it meant.” Harry admitted.

Hermione’s hair was fluffed up to twice it’s normal size. “I cannot believe this…this…” she growled in frustration and would have stumped up the stairs if Padma hadn’t blocked her.

“Hermione,” the girl sighed and slumped where she stood. “Nobody is happy about this but don’t you already have more than an Affiliation with Harry? After all you’ve done for each other, I’d think just taking an oath not to harm him would be rather ridiculous.”

“I’d die for him.” Hermione stated, in a firm but tired voice. “But that doesn’t change the barbarity of requiring that I put it into an oath.”

“Then swear to Neville.” Harry offered, serious and tired. “Just protect yourself, Hermione. I don’t care who everyone goes into an Affiliation with.” He made sure to rake the crowd with his eyes, making contact with everyone that was willing to look at him. “Just don’t let the Ministry tag you like an animal.”

There was a great deal more debating, a lot of arguing, but then by the time Gryffindor finally went up to their beds everyone that needed to had sworn an Affiliation to either Longbottom or Potter, everyone except Hermione. She was left alone, sitting in front of the fire, staring at it. Harry motioned for Neville to leave them alone and went to sit next to her. It took several minutes for her to speak.

“My grandmother was a major part of my life until she died three months before I got my Hogwarts letter.” Hermione whispered, arms wrapped around herself. “She was my world, Harry. My parents aren’t particularly involved.” This, Harry thought, explained a great deal about his friend. “They love me, don’t, don’t think I’m abused or something.” Hermione’s eyes glinted in the light of the fire. “But they have their practice and they both volunteer for the WHO and I was mostly just, just left behind. Me and Gran.”

Harry didn’t say anything but took one of the throws laying across the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. She buried her face in the soft wool and sighed. “I used to trace the number on her arm when we curled up together. She’d hold me and read to me every night. And I’d run my finger over the number and she never once let it bother her. It took me ages to realize what it was.”

Harry closed his eyes. “I didn’t know you were Jewish. I’m so sorry I didn’t… and we keep getting you Christmas presents.”

“I’m not.” Hermione reached a hand out of her blanket cocoon and took his. “Gran never even talked about religion. I don’t think her family really practiced and she didn’t… I don’t think she believed in god at all. Grandfather was catholic, and he drug my mum to services but Gran never went with them. Mum stopped going when she was a teenager. My dad was raised in the parish church but never really believed either. I had a fairly religious free childhood. But ethnically, culturally…”

Harry squeezed her hand. “The law wants to put tracking bracelets on everyone. Like, like a radio tag only magical. We can’t let them do that, Hermione. I know you hate the idea of affiliation…”

She cut him off with a grunt, dropping his hand and stand up angerly, the blanket falling to the ground in a heap. She made to storm off but her foot caught in it and she nearly pitched into the fire but Harry reached out and grabbed her arm. He pulled her down onto the couch next to him instead. “Why is the wizarding world so terrible?” Hermione finally chocked out, in tears. Harry hugged her tightly.

“I don’t know.” He whispered into her wild hair. “I don’t know, Hermione. But I know this time this one time, I can do something about it. And I’m trying to. I won’t let them stick a number on you, I promise.”

She cried herself to sleep there on the couch and Harry didn’t dare close his eyes all night.

Chapter Text

Severus eyed Harry, inspecting him from head to toe. The new robes the potion master had ordered for him were nothing like the school uniform and it took concentration for Harry not to fidget in them under the harsh gaze. Instead of trousers, they were actual robes, that went all the way to his ankles and were done up with a long line of tiny of buttons that thankfully responded to a tap of his wand and a passcode. The thick belt was made of some sort of heavy metal with the Potter crest hanging from one long end, and the Black the other. Under it was just a set of hose of all things, in white, to contrast with the midnight blue of the robe. Tiny silver threads created a pattern of thestrals around the bottom of the sleeves and hem – a traditional pattern for the Potter family he’d been assured. On his head was a flattened hat that felt a lot like wearing a pancake, from which two very large raven feathers dangled.

“I look ridiculous.” Harry groused and Severus smirked slightly.

“You look like the heir to two noble houses. Be glad you aren’t in this get up.” Snape waved a hand down his own ridiculous attire. The Wizengamot official robes were a frankly terrible shade of plum, embroidered with an equally terrible W over the left breast. They had multiple pleats at the waist that made them flare out and lacked a belt of any kind. And the sleeves were huge! To make matters worse the oddly box like hat had flaps of cloth that trailed down to his shoulders. Severus had only worn them once before, he’d confessed, when he’d claimed his seat. After that he’d never bothered to attend another session.

“Yeah.” Harry agreed wrinkling his nose. “That’s, that’s something alright.”

“Indeed.” Snape agreed with a long suffering sigh. “Did you finish the book I gave you on etiquette?” At Harry’s nod he smiled slightly. They’d spent the last two Sundays going over Wizengamot procedures instead of brewing and the book had been a last minute addition to the unofficial curriculum at Hermione’s suggestion. She’d been joining him and Millie since the great revelation and so far she’d been a great help. She seemed to know what questions to ask when Harry hadn’t thought to ask any at all. “Good. Then, we’d best be going. We’re supposed to meet the headmaster in the entrance hall. The three of us will go by special portkey to the Ministry.”

Snape left first, and Harry waited exactly three minutes before he donned his cloak and followed, slipping into a side hall to remove it before causally walking into the entranceway as if he’d come from the Tower. The headmaster was waiting, in his even more garish robes – the same plum as Snape’s but embellished with an odd twisting pattern in gold and crowned with a hat of peacock feathers. But what made Harry freeze in is tracks was the cluster of people that had joined the two.

Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom, Theodore Nott, and Hannah Abbot were waiting in robes as equally bad as Harry’s. Seeing him, Neville made a very formal bow. “Lord Potter,” he stated before stepping forward and offering his hand. “We heirs of Hogwarts will attend with you in solidarity.” This pronouncement was met with very solemn head nods from the rest, even Nott, and a barely concealed scowl from the headmaster.

“Uh… thanks?” Harry offered, returning Neville’s handshake. Hannah giggled slightly, hiding her mouth behind her hand and Susan just sighed.

“Potter, the proper response would be something along the lines of “Your support is appreciated and acknowledged, Heir Longbottom.” She coached.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” Harry explained blushing. “But why?”

Nott stepped forward and offered a small dip of his head. “Today’s trial is long overdue and the vote that is set to happen…” he grimaced slightly, “I tried to warn my father what the wording would mean but he seems convinced that no one would even attempt to revive Affiliations or if they did they wouldn’t be able to sway anyone. I’m not a fool. I know what you and Longbottom have started. If the Old Ways will be returning to politics I would prefer to be part of it.”

Neville looked rather smug about that, Harry thought. “What will your father think?”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “He’s been hounding me to attend more sessions for the last two years. He’s going to be quite pleased I assure you. It’s not as if I could vote anyway.”

Right. This was purely symbolic. Given the pinched expression on the headmaster’s face it was rather a big symbolic statement, one Severus seemed to be quite happy about if the dark amusement in his eyes was anything to go by.

Harry half expected the headmaster to argue with them, but the elderly wizard just turned to lead the way out of the castle without making a comment. His silence alone said volumes but Neville and Nott were unfazed and the girls seemed to find it rather exciting if their nervous energy was any indication.

Portkeys, Harry remembered too late, were not at all a good way to travel. Neville had to snag him to keep him from falling flat on his face. When he finally gathered his balance and looked up it was to catch sight of a really ugly statue in the middle of a fountain. “Hermione would be so mad,” he muttered under his breath which caused Neville to snicker.

The Ministry was not at all what Harry had been expecting. Wizards, Harry decided, should never be allowed to decorate anything. It was both gaudy and completely without purpose – every single thing they saw seemed to be carved or fluted, or some other kind of random decorative style. Nothing matched. Nothing.

The Wizengamot meeting room was even worse – a combination of bare gray stone and black marble, with garishly carved seats done up in about twenty clashing shades of velvet. The seats for the members were set into tiers, clearly based on some sort of hierarchy, and cast in light or shadow to various degrees. Dumbledore made his way towards a dais in the center of the hall, on the lowest tier, and Severus went for a seat in one of the middle tiers that bore the Prince crest. The other kids broke off to take up their own seats, with Hannah joining Severus’ tier and Susan, Neville, and Nott walking with Harry up towards the highest one. Neville’s’ grandmother looked displeased when she noticed them but made no move to stop Neville from taking a seat on the short stool that appeared next to her chair. Susan’s aunt just smiled at her, clearly used to her niece coming to the meetings, and Nott’s father – who looked old enough to be his grandfather – just nodded at his son. Harry, feeling the loss of his father even more deeply than usual, took up his own stool next to the eerily empty chair he couldn’t even sit in yet. As he watched it, the figure carved into the back flickered for a moment from the stag it had been when he first walked up, to a thestral, and then back again as if winking at him. Sirius had told him the Potters were once the Peverells, and that sometimes the old name peaked through. He hadn’t realized that was literal.

When the hour for the opening came, the doors to the hall banged shut by themselves with an ominous clang. Everyone stood up, Harry a second slower than the rest, and stood there silently. There were a lot of empty chairs. Some were swathed in black – which Severus had told him was the traditional drape of an unclaimed chair, to mark a mourning. The Potter seat had a black mantel, as did the Black and Longbottom ones, but some were not only draped in the swath of fabric but cast in shadow. These, Harry knew, were seats that had no one to claim them. Fudge and the Ministry could move to have them closed, but the hall itself would not remove a seat. Magic defying authority. “Merlin created the Hall as it is now,” Snape had explained tersely. “The Hall will only change for someone who has earned the seat. No elected head can remove the original lines, only add to the lowest tiers.” It was clear adding had been done. For the top tiers were spaced with large gaps between seats and the bottom were packed nearly elbow to elbow.

There were also a handful of empty seats still lit, without a drape, and Harry knew they were the protest votes, and they were all on the lowest tiers. The Longbottoms were supposed to have sat the vote out, but Neville had apparently demanded his gran attend. Their chair, black draped, was an oddity. Normally a seat could not be filled by proxy, only by the Lord or heir. Since Frank Longbottom was incapacitated and not dead, and Neville had been just an infant, it had left them in limbo. The Wizengamot had voted to let the dowager Lady Longbottom fill the seat until Neville was of age, but the hall itself would not accept the absence of the normal passage of the seat no matter what the members decided. The best they’d managed was to force the actual chair not to chuck her out. Even then, she had to drape a sheet over the cushions and arms or risk being burned by the indigent magic of the hall itself, upset that someone outside the normal passage of the seat was sitting in it. Neville had confessed that this was a sore point with his grandmother, who thought she should have a right to the seat, but it was Neville as heir who had the best legal claim, and the only magical one. In theory he could will her out of the seat using the family magics if she did not do what he wanted, even being underage. It was the first time he’d ever demanded anything, he’d confessed to Harry in a whisper the night before. He hadn’t been sure she’d do it. He’d been less sure if he was brave enough to act if she didn’t.

She didn’t look pleased about being there, and very annoyed that Neville had joined her, Harry noted. She looked anything but happy in general, sitting on her hostile sheet draped chair. But she was there and Neville was reasonably sure she’d vote against the muggle registration. It was Sirius’ trial he wasn’t sure about.d

Dumbledore stepped up onto the dais and the Wizengamot lords sat down nearly as one. Harry awkwardly slammed himself down onto the stool, once again a second behind the rest.

Dumbledore looked more solemn than Harry could remember ever seeing him. “Let this session of the Wizengamot commence.” He banged a large staff on the ground three times slowly and a slightly purple mist rose from the floor and spread up and over the seats. A blanketing spell, Harry reminded himself, to bare anyone from discussing what happened except with those who had a right to attend. Decisions could be shared but the deliberations were always done in secret. “Our first order of business comes from the remaining items on last month’s agenda…”

It took forever to go through the past items, and Harry was seriously worried they’d run out of time before they even got to the trial. Finally, the registration bill came up and Harry was expecting a great deal of debate on it. Apparently so was Dumbledore. To both their shock, Lord Abbot stood before it could even begin.

“I move for a direct vote.” He stated grimly. Harry looked quickly towards Hannah, who seemed to be fairly smug if Harry had to guess. Neville, when he looked to him was definitely smug.

“I second.” Lord Nott barked out after his son had whispered something in his ear. This caused an odd titter to flutter through the room. Nott and Abbott never agreed on anything. And Theodore looked very smug. What was going on? Harry wondered. Severus was right in front of him and he couldn’t see his face but Harry had the vague sense the man was as curious as he was. Whatever was happening, Neville had arranged it without telling a soul.

They voted on taking a vote. Harry knew his jaw had to have dropped at that, but really? A vote to take a vote? Was this really his future? Dumbledore, looking utterly perplexed, led the chamber through the winding road of a 2/3 majority vote about the vote, then did the actual vote…

He was short way more than three votes, Harry thought with a sinking heart. The bill passed with only five voting against it. The Longbottoms were the only one of the upper tears to vote no, with Bones, Abbott, and Nott all voting together for it. When Harry caught site of Neville’s face, his friend did not look at all surprised or concerned. When he caught Harry looking, Neville smiled at him gently and mouthed ‘it’s all right’ to him. Clearly Neville had some sort of plan.

Dumbledore’s voice was slightly shaking when he finished the tally. “The bill passes.” His shoulders dropped as he said it and it took him a moment to move on to the next item on the agenda. Something to do with taxes on farm livestock, which did include a rather lively debate with two of the lower tier members almost drawing their wands before Neville’s gran shouted them both down. That bill did not pass. Nor did the next two, both having to do with something about some sort of treaty renegotiations. The last item on the regular agenda was a resolution to, if Harry understood it right, censure a minor Ministry employee for wearing the wrong color of purple to the office, since that shade of purple was reserved for official Wizengamot members. That one passed with only Dumbledore voting against it. Even Severus voted for the censure.

Clearly that etiquette book hadn’t been kidding about that.

“Thus ends the legislative portion of the meeting.” Dumbledore sounded much more confident, if a little disappointed, as he continued. “Now we have one item on the judicial docket. Please bring in the accused.”

The small door on the side creaked open. Sirius had explained in his last letter that he had to turn himself in the night before the trial, an arrangement made through Madam Bones and the apparently horrible house-elf that had still been attached to Grimmauld Place. Sirius had had to vacate the village to go to his family home for the few days it took to hash out the agreement so the elf could be the go between. The few days there had not done the man favors, nor had the evening in Ministry custody. He looked tired and weary, but still much more in health than when Harry had last seen him before he’d gone to hide. The robes he wore had clearly been slept in, but were a fine cut and clean if rumpled. He looked like a Lord who had spent a night in jail, rather than the escaped convict on the wanted posters. He was lead over to a chair in the middle of the floor and sat carefully in it. Chains immediately wrapped around him but he pretended not to notice them. A carefully crafted image, Harry suspected.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore started but a cough stopped him.

An elderly man rose from the tier just below Harry and pointed a long knobby finger at the headmaster. “That’s Lord Black, boy. I know you don’t believe in the Old Ways, fool you are, but you will show the proper respect in this body.” Harry couldn’t make out what the crest was on the man’s chair but his robes told enough. They were far from new, but clearly of very expensive make, and meticulously cared for. Some spots showed the slightly off coloring of magical repair. Clearly an older family, on hard times but still believing very strongly in the traditions.

“My apologies, Lord Cloke.” Dumbledore didn’t seem very sorry, if his tone was anything to go by. “Lord Black,” he turned towards Sirius again. “You stand accused of the betrayal of James Potter and his family. What evidence do you submit to your innocence?”

Sirius sat incredibly tall. “I am a sworn godfather to Harry Potter, by oath, by magic, by blood. That is all the evidence that should be required.” The entire hall burst into noise at that.

“Sacrilege!” Someone cried. “A Lord and blood bond godfather could never betray his own child!”

“Magic would have killed him instantly!” Someone else yelled.

Voices rose higher and Harry noticed that it was only the lower tiers yelling back and forth. The upper two were oddly silent. Only Neville’s gran seemed to be letting her displeasure be noticeable. Her glare at Sirius could have melted steel.

“Remember yourselves!” a dark low voice finally called out and Harry once again turned his attention to Lord Nott. “This is an august body, not a village fete!” The man looked vaguely unsteady on his feet, one hand holding onto the side of his chair for balance. His hand shook slightly, Harry noticed with a frown.

“Do you have a question for the accused?” Dumbledore asked, looking oddly serine in the face of the chaos.

“Of course I do.” Nott spit. “Lord Black, the traitor Pettigrew was already before this body. Your innocence is well established as far as anyone with wits could tell. You offer additional evidence to prove your loyalty to the fallen Potters. What more can you tell us of that faithful night?”

Sirius gave a slow and deliberate dip of his head toward the elderly Lord, and presumable enemy, before he answered in quiet steady voice, outlining in detail every moment he could remember of that Halloween. When he finished the hall was deathly quiet.

“Poppycock.” Neville’s gran broke the silence with a dismissive snort. “He’s a Black. How can we believe him? The House of Potter deserves his life as payment for his crimes.”

Lord Cloke and Lord Nott turned slightly in their seats. But it was Neville that spoke. “Gran, I think you are confusing Lord Black with his cousin. Harry Potter himself has confirmed to me that Lord Black is his godfather and innocent of any crime against his House. If the heir to the House of Potter is satisfied with Lord Black’s innocence, than I do not think it is the place of House Longbottom to demand payment on their behalf.”

Nods from nearly all the seats followed this statement. But Neville’s grandmother had clearly had enough of her grandson making demands. “Who are you to say what the House of Longbottom should or should not do? You are a child! I’ve had enough of pandering to your ridiculous whims. You are a disgrace to this House and my poor Frank would be appalled at your audacity!” She lifted her hand, as if to slap Neville, but at the last moment clearly thought better of doing so in front of witnesses. “You will return home immediately.” She hissed instead, her fingers clinched tightly on the arm rest of the sheet covered chair.

“Who are you to make demands on the legitimate Heir?” Harry’s eyes widened at the sound of Lucius Malfoy’s voice, cold and harsh in the large hall. “Even the hall itself does not recognize you, Madam.”

“I am the only adult capable of filling this House’s seat.” She replied back, eyes flashing. “The House of Longbottom has a duty to see to its place in our world. Would you have a seat left empty when there is a ready and willing person to fill it?”

“I would see it filled when it is right to do so.” Malfoy replied, his own anger clear in tone but his outer visage calm. “Many seats sit here, draped in mourning, waiting for the rightful heir to appear and claim them. Why should the House of Longbottom have proxy when the Houses of Potter, Black, and Lestrange do not – three of many that have been so denied. You claim to wish to uphold the duty and sanctity of this body, madam, when your very presence defiles it.”

“I hardly think,” Dumbledore started to argue but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a tide of voices arguing in the lower tiers. Once again the upper two were silent. It took several minutes for Dumbledore to gain control again and quiet the packed lower seats. “Now, let us return to the matter at hand, and the trial for Lord Black.”

“Not until my grandson returns home as I have instructed.” Madam Longbottom bellowed. She reached out to tug on Neville’s arm, dragging him up and off his stool even from her seated position. “Get out.” She hissed.

Neville looked incredibly sad, Harry thought, but then his shoulders firmed and his spine straightened. “It is my right to attend the Wizengamot. I may not yet be able to claim the main seat but you cannot deny me the heir’s. Neither is yours to command.”

“You impertinent boy, I’ll…” she started to argue back but Neville raised a hand and for some reason she stopped mid-sentence. Harry realized, as he watched, that the heir’s ring on Neville’s hand was not only visible but glowing.

“I do not want to do this, grandmother.” He warned, so softly Harry doubted anyone further away could hear it. “If you keep fighting me I’ll have no choice.”

“You haven’t the courage.” She stared at him, and Harry felt a knot form in his throat. It was a very similar expression to Aunt Petunia right before she’d do something terribly mean. “You aren’t enough of a man to do anything at all. The House is in dire straights and it requires a firm hand.”

Neville closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them, a determined expression settling on his round face. “You are right, grandmother. The House of Longbottom has great need, and I shall answer it. I as heir to the House of Longbottom and no other have the right of Judgement.”

That caused another burst of noise from the lower tiers and a rather raspy laugh from Nott. Dumbledore banged his staff several times but it wasn’t until Neville, eyes trained with sadness on his grandmother, touched the back of her chair that the hall quieted. The purple mist that had been floating near the floor of the chamber rose up and swirled, gathering around the Longbottom seat and when it disappeared the chair was empty. Neville bowed his head and then with great care, sat in the empty chair.

A roar, like a giant bear, sounded across the hall. The black mantel that had been on the back of the seat floated up and off, disappearing into the ceiling and the shadowed light turned bright and golden. Susan, Hannah, and Theodore all stood and lowered themselves onto the floor bowing, and Lord Nott unsteady as he was followed his son down. Severus glanced up at him and then did the same. Harry followed without hesitation. Eyes down he couldn’t see what the rest did but heard the rustling of robes almost in a wave.

“The Wizengamot recognizes the passing of Lord Longbottom.” Dumbledore sounded like he was a second from tears. “And welcomes the new Lord.”

After that the vote on Sirius’ trial seemed anticlimactic.

Chapter Text

The vote went quickly, everyone speedily voting to free Sirius, mostly as far as Harry could tell, so that they could get out of the formal session to go gossip with each other about what Neville had done. Dumbledore hastily ended the session and went to collect the students. Neville looked like he was about to keel over and Susan and the younger Nott were actually holding onto his arms. The Headmaster had an expression on his face Harry had no idea what it meant but Severus looked concerned. Nevertheless he waved Harry off when he made to join them.

Harry reluctantly peeled off from the group and made his way to Sirius’ side. Neville and the others heirs would have to go with Severus and the headmaster back to Hogwarts but Harry had a portkey to return to the Hogwarts gates in five hours. It had been a major argument the night before to get the potion master to agree to even that short of an unsupervised outing, but Remus was waiting at the muggle exit of the Ministry to provide extra security. All they had to do was make it from the Chambers to the exit and there was a convenient direct tunnel just off the same hallway if you knew where to look. It was exit only, not entry, but that would work fine for their purposes. They’d get to have a short visit together before Remus was set to take Sirius to some sort of healing center Severus had arranged.

“What happened?” Harry asked, hugging Sirius tightly. “What was all that?” While most of the Wizengamot seemed intent on gossip they were at least keeping a distance from the newly freed Lord Black, probably out of fear Harry thought bitterly. They freed him because they felt they had to, but they weren’t exactly trusting.

Sirius had real tears in his eyes. “Frank…” His voice broke at the name and he rested his weight slightly on Harry before he visibly made an effort to stand straight again. Harry turned his head and caught sight of a single Wizengamot member slowly making his way towards them. The elderly Lord Nott waited until Sirius gave a small nod before he stepped forward.

“Family magics are often misunderstood.” Nott explained, his voice strong even if his body wasn’t. “What young Lord Longbottom has done is… a very difficult thing.” Lord Nott leaned on his cane and looked up, as if remembering something painful. “When a seat is left empty because a Lord is incapable of filling it, but still alive, it diminishes the House and this body. The magic of the chamber knows, and the family magic knows. It’s custom to wait till 15, after OWLS, to take a seat but it is not hard law. However, no one would dare ask a child to do so before he is ready. In the old days a child as young as four was known to the take the seat at their father’s passing, but never would someone Judge until it was absolutely necessary. You see, there can be only one Lord, child, one Lord for the family magics to rest on. Doing what he did, young Neville invoked his family magics to Judge the state of his father, and the magics…”

“Frank Longbottom died the moment Neville touched that chair.” Sirius finished softly. “His grandmother never held that seat by right – it was only Neville’s indulgence that allowed her to sit in it. Once he found her lacking, the seat expelled her from the chamber – no spell of Dumbledore’s enough to keep her there against the rightful Lord, and the family magics moved from Frank to Neville. Once a Lord only death or very specific rituals can transfer the magics and you have to be in your right mind to preform them. A Judgement is a mercy killing but also a very dangerous thing. If the family magics found his father competent they’d have struck down young Neville instead.”

“Taking a seat so young,” Nott shook his head. “He risked his own life just from that without Judgement. Family magics are heavy. In the young they lay asleep, untapped, but when invoked the full weight falls. Not everyone can withstand the pressure and lesser men have suffocated under it. The real reason for the age restriction is how many children have died trying to take their places before they had the strength for it. The Longbottoms are an old and proud family, but with little of them left the weight would be twice the normal. A weight you will one day have to endure.” Lord Nott looked down at Harry with an odd light in his eyes. “Theodore tells me he thinks you will bear it well. Time will tell I suppose, but I would not hurry to take your seat, young Lord Potter. Enjoy your youth. There is time enough for old men and politics. Let sleeping dragons lay.” His eyes drifted from Harry to Sirius. “I am pleased to see a new Lord Black returned to us. I considered your grandfather a true Lord, even when our politics did not always align we trusted one another for an honest opinion and to have the best interests of our world in mind before all else. That is something sorely lacking in this body these days. I hope we can work together, Lord Black, in the coming days.” With that he bowed to Sirius and started a slow hobble out of the chamber.

“Someone’s been practicing dark arts.” Sirius muttered under his breath. ”That man is normally a damn fast draw, Harry, don’t let the white hair fool you. He’s done some serious magic within the week, and he’s paid the price for it in pain and magical exhaustion but give him a month and he’ll be a damn powerhouse again.”

“What kind of magic could do that?” Harry eyed the retreating form of the Lord Nott with, despite himself, a small degree of concern.

“Blood scrying I expect.” Sirius shook his head. “He’s coming down with us, and with House Longbottom, not something I’d have ever expected from Nott. He was one of the original followers of Voldemort. If he’s jumping ship he’s got a reason to.”

“Theo told him something.” Harry frowned. “Neville’s gotten most of the heirs to… to side with him.”

“He’ll need the support.” Sirius sighed heavily as a group of started towards them. “Why don’t we go find some dinner? Before this mob works up the courage to actually talk to us.”
They beat a hasty retreat into Muggle London.

They couldn’t tell Remus exactly what happened in the chamber because of the secrecy wards, only that Neville had taken his seat. But that must have conveyed enough because Remus hung his head.

“Is Augusta alright?” he asked and Sirius snorted.

“That old battle axe is just fine I’d wager. The seat expelled her from the chamber so she’s probably a little bruised but she should have landed in the rubbish tip. It’s where the chamber always dumps anyone found to be in contempt of the body. Merlin must have had a sense of humor. It’ll take a few days to wash off the stench but she’ll be fine.” Sirius’ expression clouded over. “It’s Neville I’m worried about. I doubt Augusta is going to take his actions likely. He’ll have to either block her from the Manor or not return home.”

“Especially not with Frank…” Remus grimaced, unable to even finish his sentence. “That was no way to live.” He finally settled on instead.

“Pup, if that ever happens to me don’t wait just Judge and get it over with.” Sirius shuddered. “I have no desire to live like that.”

Harry frowned into his chips. “What exactly did happen?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance. “It’s not a fun story.” Remus offered in a tight voice. “Sirius was already in Azkaban when it happened and things were chaotic.” Remus filled Harry, and most likely Sirius, in on what he knew and Harry’s heart broke.

“So Neville doesn’t even really remember his parents?” And he just killed his father. Harry’s brain supplied unhelpfully. “He’s… I have to be nicer to him.”

Sirius’ arm came up over his shoulders. “Pup, that boy is going to need every ally he can get, but a friend would probably be much more appreciated.”

That, Harry thought with a sinking heart, was an understatement.

Later that night after he’d returned to Hogwarts, Harry entered the dormitory to find everyone blissfully asleep except Neville. The other boy was huddled in the corner of his bed with the curtains closed but Harry could hear the muffled sobs. A tiny house elf wearing a tea towel with the Longbottom crest on it was wringing his hands next to the bed. Harry bent down to be eye level with the little elf.

“Can you bring us some tea?” Harry suggested in a soft voice. “I’m going in there,” he pointed at the curtains. “Something calming?”

“Neps was ordered to leave him alone.” The little elf’s big eyes were full of his own tears. “Neps wants to be with his master, help master…”

Harry nodded. “You are a good elf, Neps, Neville is just very very sad. Even if he yells at us we’ll help him won’t we?”

“Brave master.” Neps agreed with a head wabble. “Brave master doing what he must, poor master.” The little elf popped away and Harry took a deep breath before he pushed the curtain back enough to see Neville.

The other boy was a wreck, huddled under his blankets and his tears soaking his pillow. Harry thought back to the few time someone had comforted him – there weren’t that many – and slid into the bed beside him and carefully wrapped Neville in his arms. The other boy was bigger than he was, everyone was bigger than Harry, but he clung to him never the less. Neps popped back in with two mugs of tea and set them on the stand before, with a look from Harry, he carefully joined them squeezing Neville from the other side.

Eventually the tears turned into shaky breaths. Neps kept petting Neville’s head and eventually the boy turned from Harry to the little elf and buried his face in the tea towel covered creature. “Poor master.” Neps tried his best to wrap his little arms around the boy, but wasn’t able to given their sizes. Harry got the feeling that Neps probably spent a great deal of time in Neville’s early years comforting the boy given the expression on his face. “Neps knows how hard that was. Neps sorry poor master must do so but Neps is thankful yes.” Neville made a pained sound but Neps continued a little louder. “Neps is thankful because Neps knows his old Master Frank was gone. Neps felt Master Frank leave so long ago. Master Neville do what he must and now Master Frank can rest, yes he can.” Neps pressed his head against Neville’s, his large ears rubbing back and forth on Neville’s head. “Neps come as soon as he could. Neps not leave Master alone, Neps always be there for master.”

Harry rubbed his hand on Neville’s back. “You aren’t alone, Neville. Never alone. I won’t let you be either.”

Neville’s breath hitched more but no more tears came. Probably because he didn’t have any left. It took another long moment before Neville was able to pull away from Neps far enough for Harry to slip the mug of tea into his hands. Neville sipped it automatically and Harry suspected it was laced with a calming drought given the slightly glazed look that entered Neville’s eyes. “That’s it,” Neps seamlessly moved the cup from Neville’s hands to his own and blinked it out of being. “Neps stay and master sleeps.” He eased the boy down and between one breath and the next Neville was asleep. Neps then turned his attention to Harry.

“Other elves say you have plans, good plans. Neps thinks you is kind boy, and kind boys should not have to make such plans.” His eyes drifted to Neville and back. “Neps is only one to comfort Master since he was a baby. Neps is only one.” He said it with anger in his voice, and Harry was once again reminded that an angry elf was a very scary thing. “Master deserves more than Neps. Neps not enough to protect his master.”

“I’ll do what I can. He’s my friend.” Harry swallowed heavily. “He didn’t tell me what he was planning.”

Neps shook his head, his ears flapping sadly. “Master did not tell Neps either. Neps knows because Angry Mistress come home smelly and yell. Neps not belong to her, Neps is Longbottom elf, belong to Master Neville since Master Frank go away. Neps leave Angry Mistress with her own elf. Angry Mistress deserve to stink.”

Harry had to blink back his own tears. “Does she really not love him?” All the stories about Neville’s family trying to force magic came back to him in a rush.

Neps ears drooped. “Angry Mistress forget how to love without condition. Master Neville used to try but, Angry Mistress is so very angry. Her heart not big enough.”

Harry tucked Neville’s blanket around him and sat down on top of the covers. Neps did the same on the other side. The least they could do was keep him company.

Chapter Text

“There are options.” Millicent stroked her cat as she looked at Harry, her eyes dark in the dusk light that filtered into their greenhouse. “If she won’t take an Affiliation, you can offer her something better.”

Harry sighed and flopped backwards onto the pile of straw mulch behind him. “Sirius even wrote her and offered and she burned it. I don’t think she’s going to do it on principle, and will probably make some sort of grand stand at the Ministry. She was talking to that Ravenclaw, the one whose father owns that weird paper. I think she’s planning a public protest.”

Millicent snorted. “Right because getting tagged by the Ministry and then publicly calling them out sounds like a valid healthy plan for long term prosperity.” Her cat hissed and jumped down at that to pad over to the corner to try and catch a fly. “I know she’s stubborn but you can bring her around. What is it she really wants?”

Harry frowned. “Elvish freedom, more NEWTS than is sane, and right now Fudge’s head on a pike.”

“We all want that.” Milly joked and poked his side with her foot. “What does she want personally? Like, not jobs and general goodness for the world, but like for herself.”

Harry turned onto his side and looked at Milly. “What is it you want, for yourself?”

Millicent dropped her gaze to her lap. “I don’t want much really.”

He reached out and snagged her hand and pulled her down off the bench onto the pile of straw next to him. “Then it will be easy to get it. What is it?”

She fiddled with his fingers in her hand for a long moment. When she finally spoke there were tears in her voice if not her eyes. “I’ve always wanted someone that appreciated me. That didn’t care if I wasn’t, if I wasn’t entirely human. Someone that would just, just let me be me.”

Harry regarded her for long moment before he reached over and gently turned her chin to look at him. “See, totally easy for me to give you. I adore you, Millicent Bulstrode, and I rather like that you aren’t entirely human.” He copied her phrasing and smiled gently when she winced just a bit, but didn’t let go of her chin. “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you and I have no intention of ever leaving your side for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Harry…”

He cut her off with a gentle chaste kiss before resting his forehead against hers. “I know we are complicated, Millie, I know that. But I have no intentions of letting that stop me.”

“You’re a prat, Potter.” She muttered but made no move to pull away.

BREAK

Neville pushed a large ugly book towards Harry. “You need to read the section on bonds.” In the days following the Wizengamot meeting Neville had taken to doubling down on his attempts to educate Harry on everything he’d need to know as a Lord. As word had traveled through the school of what had happened, the nervous boy had been an unwelcome center of attention but rather than folding or breaking under the pressure, Neville had instead hardened. Harry was rather embarrassed at how much he’d underestimated his friend. Whatever it is that Neville was working towards with Nott, Bones, and Abbott, it was giving him a dose of confidence he’d been missing since their first year. That is chose to consistently manifest in demanding Harry read things was less welcome.

Harry eyed the book dubiously. “The stuff you and Ron were trying to explain? How’s that going to help me?”

Neville took a quick look around the common room and seemed to find they were being properly ignored. He sat down across the little table and nudged the book again. “Hermione. We can’t let her get registered. She’s turned down every offer of affiliation. Even Nott offered her and she politely thanked him but said no. We’ve only got two days left.” When Harry still didn’t’ pick up the book Neville actually glared at him. “She won’t do it unless it’s something that means something. You can give her more than Nott or I.” With that Neville stood up and walked away, clearly frustrated that his attempts at subtlety weren’t working but unwilling to spell it out directly.

Harry picked the book up.

Much later, after reading and re-reading the section, Harry closed the book and leaned back in his chair. The fire had died down in the common room fireplace and there were only a handful of students left. Hermione was curled up in the far corner, her arithmancy homework spread out around her, the bags under her eyes even darker and more pronounced than they’d been the previous night. She wasn’t getting enough rest, worn out from trying to find a loop hole in the new law, and her ridiculous class schedule. Harry tucked the book into his bag and slide into the seat next to her.

“You need to get some sleep.” He advised, gently prying the quill out of her hand where she was taking increasingly illegible notes. “You are dead on your feet.”

Hermione turned to look at him, fear and determination mixed equally in her eyes. “I can’t. There’s not time.”

Harry ignored her and started to pack up her things, casting a quick drying charm on her notes before he tucked them into their designated spot in her usually carefully organized folder system. He knew he was overdue on saying something when he found papers haphazardly stuffed into it without their usual obsessive order. “Hermione,” he started, unsure how to even broach the subject but knowing he had to. Neville, bless him, had found the answer. “What is it you want?”

“What?” She asked, aggravated, making a lunge for the book before he could stow it in her bag.

He snatched it away and tucked it in before closing the top of the satchel and moving it out of her reach with his foot. “What is it you want, like if you could have anything.”

Hermione’s eyed narrowed. “What kind of question is that?”

“I want a family.” Harry said it softly but firmly. “If I could have anything at all, I’d want a slew of siblings, in too small a house, and family dinners, and staycations, and then get married and have twelve kids…”He cut off at her weak laugh. “I know, predictable right?”

“Twelve kids sounds a bit much.” Hermione deflated slightly. “Does Millie know how terribly domestic you are?”

“I think she’s a little too lacking in self-esteem to believe I’d want domestic with her.” Harry shrugged. “I’m working on it.”

“Of course you are.” Hermione smiled, an actual real smile, something Harry hadn’t seen on her face in far too long. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“Well I asked Ron the same question and he wants to be his own person, I think. I mean he talked a lot about quidditch and being an auror, but it sounded mostly like he wants to be known as Ron, not just another Weasley.” Harry explained. “I asked Ginny and she said she wants to beat the daylights out of Malfoy so I expect she’s got a crush.” Hermione giggled slightly at that. “What is it you want?”

Hermione eyed her bag that Harry was still carefully keeping out of her reach. “I want to be the best I can be, to prove that… that I’m just as good.”

Harry frowned. “Do you think if you swear Affiliation that it will somehow make your accomplishments less? Hermione, you’re brilliant! With or without a House.”

“I need to get there on my own.” Hermione stiffened her spine and clinched her fist, eyes hard and focused on the almost dead fire. It flared suddenly and then sputtered. “I just can’t let them do this, Harry. I can’t.”

“You aren’t.” Harry insisted, and reached over to take her hand. He flipped it palm up and pointed to the center. “You, this is your hand. It holds your wand. It slapped Malfoy.” This caused another small chuckle from the witch. “Your hand, Hermione. It doesn’t matter if you are affiliated with every House there is, it’s still your hand. What you accomplish with it is yours. You aren’t giving up or letting them win if you do something to protect yourself. It won’t diminish who you are or lesson what you do.”

Hermione tugged her hand away from his and curled it back into a fist in her lap. “How many have done it?”

“Near as we can tell almost all the muggleborns in Britain. Only about a half of the halfbloods. There’s a lot that seem to think the Ministry won’t bother with them, no matter the wording in the law.” Harry sighed and pulled his own hand back into his lap. “They are probably right. If the Ministry tried there’d be a huge outcry. Of course, everyone’s already aghast at what’s happening. Dumbledore told me there’s already a plan in the works to resend the law but he’s not sure if it will work or not. Apparently some of the great houses are enjoying this.”

Hermione snorted. “Nott seemed particularly pleased.”

“Neville says he’s always wanted to be a posh bastard.” Harry paraphrased. Nott had seemed to enjoy offering and accepting Affiliations and hadn’t even tried to work any additional restrictions in. Malfoy, however, had acted like the entire thing was ridiculous until his mother’s owl had dropped an ominous envelop into his morning oatmeal. Now there seemed to be an odd sort of competition happening in the heirs of the great houses about who could get the most people to swear. So far Neville was winning mostly because he didn’t seem to be trying and he probably seemed less controversial than Harry himself.

Hermione bit her lip. “You aren’t going to stop until I agree to this are you?”

“Nope.” Harry popped the p and grinned. “I promised you I wouldn’t let them tag you, and I meant it. Even if that means I have to strong arm you into.”

Hermione huffed. “Fine, you win. I can’t find a single thing to fight this with and, I suppose, there are worse things I could do than swear to not intentionally do you harm. If I read this right, harm is a fairly significant injury so punching you is still within the limits.”

Harry laughed. “Good. So, what would you think about maybe doing something slightly more personal?”

“You get me to agree to an Affiliation and now you want more?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

Harry picked the book up Neville had given him and opened it to a specific page. He held it out to her.

“Sibling bonds?” She gently took the book from his hands. “Harry?”

“I want a family.” He said it with conviction, if softly. “I’ll never have a real brother or sister. But, if I could pick,” He blushed and looked down before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I always thought, if I had a big sister I’d want her to be like you. Well, I know it would sort of be more than affiliation, but… you don’t have any siblings either and…” Hermione cut him off with a swift and brutal hug.

“Harry Potter, you are the most amazing boy I’ve ever met.”

“So you’ll be my sister?” He asked, confused, his face buried in her wild curls.

“Of course I will you prat. If you’d asked me to do this to start with I’d have said yes the first night.” She pulled back far enough to punch him rather hard on the shoulder. “But this doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I’m still going to protest this horrible law. And I’m going to fight the Ministry tooth and nail wherever I can.”

“Okay.” Harry agreed, grinning. “You can do it with the Potter name too, if you want. I’ll help every step.” At her look he shrugged. “Technically this would make you a Potter. Not that you have to change your name, or anything, but you’ll get access to my family magic I think.” He glanced at the book. “We might want to research it a bit more. I’m slightly confused about some parts of it. Well, everything except the part where you’d be my sister. I kind of got stuck on that part.” He grinned, knowing it probably was a little too wide. “You’ll be the best sister ever.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Even if I decide to campaign for elvish rights? And use you as a poster boy for it?”

“Hey, I’m a paid member of SPEW too, a founding member.” Harry reminded her, his tone suddenly serious. “I know you want to do everything yourself, and that’s, that’s really impressive. But nobody changes the world by themselves. Not Ghandi, or, or Churchill, or…”

Hermione shook her head. “We really need to get you more history lessons. That was a rather pathetic list.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think wizards even know who they were anyway.”

Hermione sighed. “I know. Everyone’s so terribly ignorant.”

“You’ll fix them.” He put his arm around her shoulder and rested his head against hers. “And I’ll cheer you on.”

“You’ll help.” She muttered darkly. “I won’t have my little brother being a lazy entitled arse.”

“I love you.” He blurted out, into her hair.

“I love you to, prat.” Hermione agreed, already turning her attention to the new book.

Chapter Text

The end of the school year was anticlimactic in that nobody tried to kill Harry but in all other ways it was a mess. Neville’s grandmother was trying to keep hold of the Longbottom estates, arguing to the Ministry that even though Neville had taken on the mantle of Lord, and claimed his seat, he was too young to be in charge of finances and the like. Privately, Harry thought Neville was more than ready, given the amount of correspondence with Gringotts that had been flowing in and out of the Great Hall every morning for the boy. McGonagall had taken him three times to the bank in person to do something or other and Severus had even commented that he had the makings of a good Lord. Harry on the other hand was pretty sure he was going to hire Remus for life rather than even try.

And whatever the hell was going on with Nott was getting increasingly serious. Harry wasn’t an idiot. Some sort of alliance shift was happening with Slytherin and it was putting Malfoy out of the lead and Nott into it. Where usually it was the blond seeker leading the packs in the halls and causing trouble, with the rest following along in their wake, now it was just Malfoy and his two goons. Even Parkinson was hanging back, even if it looked like she’d rather be doing the opposite. Greengrass and Zabini were staying quiet for a different reason, at least according to Millicent. “They are traditionally neutral.” Millicent had explained after their last lesson with Snape. “But everyone can sense that change is on the air. They just don’t know why yet. Until they do they don’t want to risk looking like they picked a side.”

Snape seemed to have some idea of what was going on and it was making the potion master happy for once. When Harry asked he got a head shake in response. “Let it be, Harry.” Severus advised with a small smile. “If you got involved it would only disrupt what they are doing and we want this to work. Trust me.” Trusting Snape was surprisingly easy to do after everything that had happened over the last year, but the idea of trusting Nott was much more difficult. Neville, yes, Nott no. Sirius was still at the treatment center and thus unavailable to comment, and Remus seemed to be of the opinion that anything to do with Slytherin politics was best left to Slytherins and could not possibly have any long term or further reaching ramifications than Hogwarts. For some reason that made Snape snort tea out his nose but Harry wasn’t sure if it was because he thought Remus was lying badly or that Remus was actually that stupid.

Hermione, however, had that calculating look in her eye that usually ended up with the risk of death or massive detentions. More surprisingly, she was found more than once in the company of Greengrass in the library, being annoyingly and confusingly polite to each other while they pretended they weren’t slipping some sort of notes back and forth. Ron wouldn’t go near the table when they were together and advised Harry to do the same. “I don’t know what she’s doing, Harry, but she’s been talking to Neville too and I’m too young to worry about all this.” When Harry tried to ask her she just smiled at him, a dark smile that instinctively made him back up three feet.

Conspiracies were a lot less fun when you weren’t involved with them.

Although, he and Hermione were having their own conspiracy of sorts. Neville’s not so subtle suggestion of doing a sibling bond was a good one, but they needed time to prepare the ritual and according to Severus it couldn’t be rushed. So in the meantime she’d sworn an Affiliation to the House of Longbottom to keep her off the Ministry lists. She couldn’t swear to Potter and then be brought in as a sibling and Neville was the next best choice. Since Harry was the heir to the House of Black, the adaption would add her not just to the House of Potter but also to Sirius’. And the House of Black required extra steps or something, because their family magics were more aggressive. Harry was still rather confused by most of it. He just wanted her safe, and the idea of having a sister was… a very good one.

They’d preform the actual ritual over the summer. While the Potter and Black ancestorial manors were still quarantined, the secondary home for the Black’s wasn’t and Sirius said in his last letter they could use the ritual room. The house was a mess, but it would be secure and have all the necessary things – whatever they were. In the meantime, Hermione was going home to see her parents before joining him at Severus’ in two weeks

Harry packed the last of his robes in his trunk and clipped the lid closed. A small shuffle behind him caused him to turn. Neville, looking sheepish at startling him, stood nervously in the middle of the room. “Neville?” Harry asked.

The other boy looked down. “Harry, I need to ask a favor.”

Neville never asked for help. Harry nodded but then realized he couldn’t see him with his head hung that low. “Sure, mate. What is it?”

“I can’t go home.” Neville admitted, his eyes still trained on his shoes. “Gran’s at the Manor and I could have her removed, but Harry it’s her home, and I’ve already done enough… But I can’t go back there. Her and my uncle have had all year to plan…”

Neville was shaking slightly and Harry moved over to him and put a hand on his arm, guiding him over to sit on the bed. “What can I do?”

Neville took a deep shacky breath. “I know you have Sanctuary but I don’t…I don’t know where. Your Godfather, would he, would he consider…”

Harry frowned. “You have to have hospitality first, right? Sirius isn’t in the country. Prof. Lupin took him to a place to get well after the prison.” Harry paused and then swelled heavily himself. “As Lord Potter I could offer, but I haven’t anywhere to take you to. I don’t have my own home right now.”

Neville’s shoulders slumped. “Nott offered, of course, but things are complicated there. Hermione said I could stay with her normally but she said she’s not going to be home for long and it would be awkward with your ritual happening. She hasn’t figured out how to explain that yet to her family. Susan asked her aunt and Madam Bones said no – she didn’t want to risk their safe house. Hannah’s father would, of course, but since they are a lesser House to Longbottom it’s politically a bad idea, making myself beholden to them would give them more power than the other lesser houses and long term it’s a bad idea. I don’t know what to do.”

Harry eyed his friend. “I can ask the Lord that gave me sanctuary. But Neville, it’s … it’s a nice place, and I really like him, but you will probably have a hard time adjusting. But it’s safe, and he’s wonderful really once you get to know him.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.” Neville looked tired as he said it, the weight of everything that had happened clearly showing as he slumped dejectedly into Harry. “I just, I can’t go home. I can offer myself sanctuary and stay at an inn but… ” Neville hesitated for a moment before his shoulders dropped more. “But caring for my parents has taken up a lot of our savings. The House doesn’t have anything to spare. I’ve routed what I can into safer investments and put Gran on a budget but if I’m not careful there won’t be enough there to last until I can start a career.”

“Let me handle it.” Harry nodded to himself and stood up. “Give me an hour. I have an idea. And If that doesn’t work, I know we can come up with something even if I just loan you the money.”

“Harry, I can’t ask you for that!” Neville blushed red. “Great Houses don’t make loans to one another.”

“It’s not a loan from a House, it’s a loan to a friend.” Harry clasped his shoulder tightly. “You’ve always had my back, let me have yours. Just give me an hour.”

Neville held his gaze for a long moment before he slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Sliding on the cloak Harry made his way carefully to the dungeon and slipped into Severus’ quarters. The potion master was packing a box in his sitting room, transferring books he would want over the summer, with Helca unpacking everything he did and rearranging it to meet her more exacting house-elf standards. He looked up as Harry’s invisible form entered and snorted. “We leave in the morning. You had to sneak down here one last time?”

Harry slipped the cloak off. “We have a problem and I need your help.”

Severus set the book down he was holding quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Harry ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Neville. He’s basically asked for Sanctuary but I can’t give it to him – I have nowhere to take him to.”

Severus closed his eyes briefly. “I feared it might come to that. I’d hoped the Bones would do the right thing but Amelia is scared. Between her position and the family stance in the last war, she’s gotten paranoid. The entire manor is under Fidelius and only she and Susan know where it is. They won’t break it even in peace. She knows the Dark Lord isn’t truly dead.”

“We have to be able to do something.” Harry fretted. Helca, overhearing, nodded so frantically she nearly tipped over.

“Nips be telling me all about Angry Mistress. Master Neville can’t go back there. Bad as Master Sirius in dark house. Angry things eats.” She informed them solemnly.

Harry and Severus traded a look. Whatever the house elves meant by houses eating people still didn’t sound good. “I can’t offer.” Severus finally admitted sounding tired. “It’s too great a risk to my position.”

Helca gave a rather large snort. “Master Snape has more important things to worry about than silly sneaking.” She aggressively snapped a throw and it folded itself with an angry flutter and plopped down into the waiting trunk. “Silly wizards with all their sneaking. Sneaking makes Master unhappy, makes his magic all wibbly. Wizards should not do things that make magics go wibble wobble.” Her eyes narrowed on Severus. “If silly wizards listen to their magics everything be much better.”

Apparently this must be an old argument if the expression on Severus’ face was anything to go by. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Helca, but if I don’t do it we won’t have any idea what the Dark Lord is planning if he returns.”

“Helca knows what nasty snake man planning.” She grumbled and smacked a throw pillow until it shrunk down and she stuck it into the corner of the trunk. “nasty snake man planning pain and death and bad things and that’s no place for Helca’s friendster.” She held out her hand and another pillow zoomed into it, getting the same treatment. The loud smacks made both Severus and Harry flinch. “No need to sneak to know whats he’s about, no needs.” She almost yelled the last word, her big eyes gathering large tears in them. “What can Helca’s master find out from crazy man with crazy no good ideas? No good ideas come from no good ideas!”

Severus stared at her in shock, clearly unused to being yelled at by the tiny elf. Harry grimaced. “She does have a point.”

Helca whirled to look at him, pointing a long nobby finger at him. “Master Harry smart. Listen to Master Harry! HE KNOWS NOT TO WIBBLE WOBBLE HIS MAGICS!” with that the elf popped out of the room, the last pillow falling to the floor with a plop.

Severus took a long slow breath. “I have no idea at all what just happened.”

“I think you got told off by a house elf.” Harry bent down and picked up the pillow. “As for the wibble wobble,” he shrunk the pillow with his wand and placed it next to the others. “I think what she means is not fighting your magics. When it tells you go right, you go right. When it tells you to run, you run. In this case, when it tells you something makes you really really unhappy you should probably not do the thing.”

“You sound like a cross between a divination text and a how to guide for seekers.” Snape sat down heavily onto the sofa and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “I don’t disagree that it seems rather pointless to worry about spying right now but he Dark Lord could return any day and we do not have another spy in His inner circle. I have to do this.”

“Do you?” Harry asked softly. “This isn’t about Neville. I’m living with you, Severus. You helped Sirius get a trial. You helped Millie and her family. How many other little things have you done, or big things, that if anyone finds out could blow your cover? Just being nasty to Gryffindors in your class can’t cover all your good deeds can it?”

“You are operating under the assumption that I have any more good deeds that you haven’t just listed. Until you came along I was doing just fine being the mistempered bat of the dungeons who practiced dark arts and tortured children for fun.”

Harry snorted. “That’s just because you only spend time around imaginative children. What do Nott and Malfoy think of you?”

“It’s complicated.”

Harry sat down next to him. “Is it? You are a Lord, Severus. So are they. You haven’t been attending to your duties, letting Dumbledore handle the Wizengamot how he saw fit, staying in the shadows. It’s been years. As far as any of you know Old Moldy isn’t coming back. You’ve done your duty, kept too your position as a spy on the Headmaster, sacrificing everything you might have wanted personally because it doesn’t take a genius to see you did not want to spend your life teaching at Hogwarts, you didn’t earn that Mastery just to yell at us. After all this time, would it really be that odd that you’d start to act like a real Lord? Would it hurt your position in the Death Eaters if you did? Nott seems to be doing something.”

“Lord Nott is complicated.” Severus sighed. “He was one of the Dark Lord’s original followers and was always given more freedom than the rest of us. He would argue with him, refuse orders. Once I overheard a conversation that lead me to believe that in their youth Nott may have offered the Dark Lord sanctuary.”

“It would make sense.” Harry replied softly. “Tom Riddle grew up in a muggle orphanage in the middle of a war. He was desperate to not go home.”

The fire popped in the grate. “It doesn’t matter.” Severus muttered darkly. “The Dark Lord is not one to hold with tradition, no matter how much he tries to pretend when in the presence of his followers. The House of Nott should, by tradition, be held in great esteem by the House of Slytherin, an alliance brought by protection having given the heir Sanctuary in his need. Even if the House of Nott were to break with the movement, The Dark Lord should according to tradition make no move against them unless they actively tried to bring the House harm. But it is not magic that controls that relationship. I cannot see that tradition being honored. Nott risks everything when he defies the Dark Lord.”

Harry contemplated the fire. “Does he? Or is it deeper?” Harry thought back to what he knew of the elderly lord that Sirius had shared over their long lunch. “Nott is not just a traditionalist. The house is Ancient and Noble. Theo believes in it. Which means it’s likely his father does too. They believe, to their bones, that they have a duty to the wizarding world. That they are responsible to uphold the safety and well-being of all their people. Riddle probably twisted that, when Lord Nott was young. Convinced him that they needed to do something drastic to try and save the Old Ways. But he’s no longer a teenager. He’s seen too much, learned too much. You said it yourself, Riddle is after Riddle’s goals. He doesn’t really care about the Old Ways.”

“But Nott does.” Severus agreed, his voice turning contemplative. “There were many meetings where Nott was absent, some he even stood up and left. The only time we really saw him was if there was a ritual involved, a true one, at the high holidays. Nott always officiated them, with Abracus Malfoy as his second. Those were increasingly rare towards the end.”

Harry shifted to look at the potion master. “Nott wants the Houses to rise again, to take up their rightful place. He wants the Old Ways, the old traditions, to be kept alive. When Riddle stopped doing more than lip serve to that, Nott had to start on it himself. He’s got a counter movement going – based on the traditions. It’s not about blood purity to him, it’s about the traditions.” Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he put it all together. “That’s what’s going on in Slytherin! Nott and Neville both believe in the Old Ways. They are trying to force a revival. This law played right into their hands. Affiliations get all these new wizards and witches into a House however weakly. They can start easing them into the traditions. Instead of fighting with all the halfbloods and new purebloods who all think they know enough, and don’t care to learn more, they can try and snag as many muggleborns as they can who don’t have any of that baggage. Mille told me ages ago that it was the Parkenson’s and the like I had to watch out for. That Malfoy and Nott were old school and would respect Sanctuary. It’s the, the, new bloods that are the problem. Like Riddle.”

Severus nodded slowly. “I had surmised that the new alliance was based on the idea of returning the Traditions. It’s a potentially powerful movement, crossing all the political lines.”

“On purpose.” Harry nodded, the idea growing in his head. “Dark, Light, Grey all the Houses coming together on one thing. It’s actually beautiful. And it can be your protection.”

Severus raised an eyebrow and turned to face him on the sofa at last. “What is it you’ve concocted?”

“Nott is leading this, with Neville, as equals.” Harry smiled widely. “It’s a movement to return the Old Ways. And that’s what Voldemort has always claimed he wanted right? We know it’s a lie, that he wants power for himself, but he publicly proclaimed for years that he wanted to save Wizarding tradition. How can he object to any of his followers continuing his work? If you offer Neville sanctuary you’d be helping the movement. I’m publicly backing Neville- and Sirius will as soon as he’s back. You can be around us all you like and it just makes sense. You are propping us up, letting us get on with the overall goal, while you wait for him to return. You can’t let on that you’ve given me Sanctuary, of course, but Neville? That would play right into your role as Dumbledore’s man AND a commitment to tradition.”

“I can’t exactly go public.” Severus slowly considered it. “But I can go to Lord Nott. Tell him exactly what I’m doing.”

“House Prince isn’t Ancient and Noble. But offering Sanctuary to a House that is makes you the most well protected Noble House there is.” Harry agreed softly. “If you can get Nott in on the plan, so he knows we are all working together…”

“We eliminate that section of the Death Eaters as an enemy.” Snape muttered, eyes deep and contemplative. “If the Dark Lord returns, Nott will inform him of our work. The Dark Lord can’t afford to have Nott break off, and he will if the Dark Lord abandons that portion of his great plan.” Severus thought hard for a moment before shaking his head. “If Nott pushes too hard, the Dark Lord will kill him.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I think he knows.” Something about that day in the Wizengamot had stuck with Harry, something in the way the Lord had looked at him. “I think Nott knows it’s just a matter of time. He’s risking his life, his son’s life, because the goal is so important to him. It’s his DUTY to do this, the reason for the Houses existing. It’s sacred. He will do whatever he can to protect us, all of us. We don’t need you to spy, Severus. Nott will.”

“You think he’s fully turned?”

Harry nodded slowly, something in his gut wibbled. “Yeah, I think he has. Or that he will, when the time is right at least.”

“The ritual – before the last session, that took so much from him….” Severus stood up suddenly. “He was scrying. Looking for the best path.”

“And he decided it was with us.” Harry agreed softly, looking up at the potion master. “He walked up to me in public, held a conversation. It was a declaration.”

“Albus won’t settle for this.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Harry stood up as well. “This isn’t about what the Headmaster wants, or Voldemort wants. This is something else. Something bigger.”

“A third side.” Severus muttered.

Harry’s magic gave a tingle. “The right side.”

Chapter Text

Neville looked small on the platform, wrapped in his cloak as he waited with his trunk. The Weasleys had descended in mass, once again, and the clatter from the exuberant red heads made that side of the station platform seem more crowded than it was, half hiding the Gryffindor boy. Hermione waved at them once before jogging over to her parents and Harry sat down next to Neville once he lost sight of her.

“Mr. Weasley will be taking me to my summer accommodations.” Harry offered in a whisper. “My host has bid me extend an invitation to you to join us, if it is convenient. While I cannot reveal his name at this time, you have my word that you will be treated with respect and befitting your station.”

Neville’s back straightened. “I would be delighted to accept, Lord Potter.” He replied back, eyes flickering up to Harry’s and then away again. “Will I be meeting our host at arrival?”

“Shortly after.” Harry struggled with what to say, the formality of the situation foreign despite a year’s worth of lessons with Snape and Remus. “Mr. Weasley will side along me first, and I’ll wait for you to arrive. It is a short walk to the house through muggle streets. I can help carry your trunk. Mine’s going directly there from the school so I’ll have my hands free.”

Neville glanced down. “Is my attire acceptable?” He sounded worried and pulled nervously at his over robe.

“Just lose the robe and you’ll be fine.” Harry offered, unable to come up with a rote response to cover the situation. “If anyone asks we’re coming from our boarding school and this is just our uniform.” While it wasn’t technically polite to be outside of private areas without an over robe, it was common enough to hang around the common room without, and on the weekends only the most traditional of students wore them at all. Even Neville went without on most occasions so Harry knew that while his under layer was very formal for muggle standards it wasn’t that much different from trousers and a button down. The waist coat was a little much but public school boys were always considered odd. Thankfully Hogwarts had stopped requiring full robes a few years before they started. Severus and Remus both insisted he’d have to get used to them at some point, but not wearing trousers was just a weird feeling. And the under layer for a full robe would make going into muggle areas impossible. Even Slytherins like Malfoy tended to opt for the more modern style these days. The only wizard that wore the older style with regularity at the school was Dumbledore, ironically.

Neville relaxed slightly, dropping the formalities as well. “Oh. That, that’s okay then.” He brightened. “I’ve never been to a muggle town. Is the house just outside one?”

“Right in the middle of one.” Harry admitted. “But it’s private once we’re inside. You can have as much or as little exposure as you want.” He hesitated for a second. “I’d be happy to show you around. Maybe we could go to the movies?”

Neville’s eyes widened. “You’d do that for me?”

“With you, I’d do that with you. You’re my friend, Neville.” Harry frowned at how surprised the boy seemed at the suggestion. “I’ve never gotten to have a friend over before. But isn’t that what friends do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a friend over either.” The two sat there for a long moment. “I think we must sound rather pathetic.” Neville finally admitted, tightly. “Nearly 14 years old and never…”

“We have all summer to make up for it.” Harry announced with determination. “You and I have two solid weeks to ourselves, and then Hermione is joining us. I have another friend that will likely come over too, that I’m sure you’ll like. We’ll, we’ll have a normal summer. With staying up late, and watching telly, and eating junk food, and… well whatever it is normal kids do.” Harry shrugged at that, out of ideas. Using Dudley as an example was probably not wise, especially since Harry had no desire to beat up other children or otherwise terrorize the neighborhood. “I’m sure Hermione can tell us more.”

“Harry,” Neville grimaced before finding his words. “I don’t think she’s ever had anyone over either. I don’t think she’s any happier at her home than we ever were, if for different reasons.”

No, Harry didn’t think she was either, although the exact reasons for that had always seemed somewhat murky. No one spent so little time at home if they were happy, or at least that was what he had been able to glean from watching their fellow Gryffindors. Hermione seemed to be as eager to visit the Weasleys as Harry had ever been. “I think,” Harry started quietly, watching as Mr. Weasley tried to pry himself away from Mrs. Weasley in order to head towards them with little success. “I think she’s had a hard time fitting in.” Harry settled on. “She’s very smart, too smart for most people to know what to do with, I think. And magic, in the muggle world, it makes things hard. You don’t really fit in, and they can tell I think, the muggles. She was bullied a lot in school. Her parents have a lot of money too, and they had a nanny when she was little. I think she’s spent more time with the help then with them. By what little she’s said I don’t think any of them stayed long and by the time she was in school I think her parents just decided she was mature enough she didn’t need much minding. She’s been fairly alone. I know she loves her parents, and they love her. They were nice when I met them. Just, very muggle. She’s cut off from everything at home, and with her parents at work, and nobody to talk about magic with, it’s got to be isolating.”

“She’s not alone now.” Neville vowed, with determination. “She’s going to be your sister, part of your House. You’ll have each other.”

Harry couldn’t help smiling at that. He was still smiling when Mr. Weasley left him briefly at the edge of the dirty river and he was still smiling when Neville arrived a few minutes later. The smile dimmed, however, when it came time to explain.

“This is Cokesworth.” Mr. Weasley explained, eyeing Harry critically. “I’m supposed to leave you two now to go the rest of the way on your own. It will be less suspicious that way. Are you sure you can do this, Harry?”

“I know the way.” Harry ruffled, slightly offended at the notion that he couldn’t find his way to Severus’ house after having spent nearly the entire summer there last year.

Arthur sighed. “I know you can find your way, Harry. I meant… the rest of it.”

Harry nodded, solemnly. “Better if it comes from me, but thank you.”

“Alright.” Arthur put a hand briefly on both their shoulders. “I know you both have a safe place here, and I’m not a Lord, but if you ever need a place to stay the Burrow is always open.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley.” Neville gave something of a little bow which made Mr. Weasley blush but Harry gave him a brief hug that was returned with force before the man backed away and disaparated.

Alone, Harry took a deep breath. “So, the house we’re going to doesn’t look like much outside. The inside is wizarding but the outside has to look muggle. But don’t worry, we did a bunch of work over last summer and there’s plenty of space inside. It’s not a mansion but it’s home.” Harry grabbed one of the handles on Neville’s trunk and they started off with Harry pointing out a few of the landmarks. Neville, eyes wide, trotted along asking a few questions here or there. Harry waved at the nephew of the grocery store owner, out on a delivery, and pointed out the little corner store when it came in view. The neighborhood was as poor as ever but it felt a thousand times more welcoming than Surrey ever had and Harry happily exchanged greetings with several people as they walked, introducing Neville along the way. Having no idea about the muggle world, Neville seemed to take it all in at face value, clearly having no idea that the worn down streets were anything out of the norm. Compared to the ever present dirt that seemed to cling to most wizarding public spaces it actually wasn’t that much different. It was only in comparison to the more well to do muggle suburbs that Cokesworth looked so very decrepit.

It didn’t take long at all to reach Spinner’s End and Harry hesitated on the step. “Look, I know this is going to be a shock but trust me okay? This is a good place and he’s a good man.”

Neville, looking serious, nodded. “I trust you, Harry. There’s a lot going on right now. If you say the Lord that lives here is someone we can trust I believe you.”

“I’ll remind you of that.” Harry muttered, opening the door. By agreement Severus was waiting for them in the kitchen and Harry eased Neville inside before shutting the door. “Bedrooms are upstairs.” Harry pointed out. “You can leave your trunk here.” Harry took a deep breath and then turned to face his friend before they entered the kitchen. “Who I’m staying with needs to be a secret. I need you to swear you won’t let on that I’m here to anybody.”

Neville frowned. “You told me that already. It’s a good safety precaution. I can swear an actual oath if it will help. Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Neville. If I didn’t trust you we wouldn’t be here.” Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Whatever you got going on with Nott? It’s not the only cloak and daggers situation, Neville. This is… complicated, okay? His life is on the line if the wrong people find out I’m here. He’s too good a man to turn either of us away but he’s got to make people think the opposite. Nothing can change about how he treats me. You’ve got some wiggle room, because of Nott, but I’m still enemy number one.”

Neville frowned. “Who is it we’re talking about?”

Harry could hear Severus moving around in the kitchen just behind the door and he took one last deep breath. “Professor Snape.” He pushed the door open and watched Neville’s eyes widen.

“Harry, could you possibly be more dramatic?” Severus intoned, humor clear in his tone.

For a second Harry thought Neville was going to pass out but some sort of resolve hardened in the other boy. After a few seconds he pulled himself together and made a bow. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Prince.” He offered, his voice only slightly shaky. “I believe we have much to discuss.”

“That we do, Lord Longbottom.” Severus replied, his own voice steady but warm. “Why don’t you come inside. Harry, I brought some cupcakes from the bakery on my way in.”

Later that night, after a rather tense dinner, Harry made sure Neville was safe in his room and made his way back downstairs to the sitting room. Severus was staring into the fire, a cup of tea at his elbow, and Harry slid into his usual seat across from him. “That went well.” he settled on finally, to break the silence.

Severus snorted. “Your mother is laughing at me from the underworld.” He ran a tired hand over his eyes and through his hair before letting out a long sigh. “He took it better than I feared.”

“Neville’s got a spine of steel. I know you don’t always see it, in class…” Harry stopped at the expression on the older man’s face.

“That boy is one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, Harry.” Severus admitted, his eyes dark and sad. “What he did in the Wizengamot, what he’s doing with Nott, his friendship with you, those things were not easy and would have broken many full grown men. I do not doubt his bravery or his integrity, I am only saddened that his life has come to such a state of turmoil that he would land here, under Sanctuary, and that I would be the best option he would have from a frightfully short list of available households. The last war decimated the Noble Houses. For a Longbottom and a Potter to need sanctuary from the disgraced halfblood Lord Prince is tragic.”

Harry considered what to say, his eyes mapping the contours of his mentors face and the way the stress of the last year had increased the premature lines on it. Severus was by wizarding standards still a young man, so was Remus, and Sirius, yet they all looked well past their prime. The last war had taken its toll on their very flesh and it would appear that the next would do more damage even before it could properly start. “I think,” Harry began earnestly, “that you give yourself too little credit. Neville is brave, and loyal, and a great friend, but the bravest man I know is sitting here in this room and it most certainly isn’t me.” Severus opened his mouth to say something but Harry held a hand up to stop him. “I’m not finished,” he stated calmly, his resolve firming at the way Severus looked at him, a little broken on the edges and trying desperately not to hope. “What you do, Severus, every day, is not only brave but heroic. You go out there and let the world think the worst of you, belittle you, underestimate you, day after day after day. You give up your own happiness and safety, knowing that if you succeed all it will ultimately do is give you a chance to put your life at even greater risk one day. There’s no one else doing what you are doing, nobody capable, and even if this gambit with Nott works, you know you’ll still end up having to prove your worth to that madman, still risk your life bringing us whatever drabbles of information you can because no matter how I argue with you I know you won’t give up. Neville and I, we don’t have a choice. We were born into this nightmare. We’re underage and can’t escape it even if we wanted to. You’re an adult, a Lord, and a Potion Master. You could up and move to California tomorrow and there’s nothing stopping you. But here you are.”

“I’d hate the sunny weather.” He responded, before shaking his head. “I do what I do because of the horrors of my past, Harry. I’m trying to atone.”

Harry shook his head. “You atoned the minute you went to Dumbledore and tried to save my mother and I. You paid your debt years ago, Severus. This, now, this is not atonement. This is something more.”

“You told Neville I was a good man.” Severus looked away, back at the fire. “You shouldn’t lie, Harry, not to your friends.”

Harry eyed him carefully before he stood up and started to leave the room. He paused just behind the man’s chair. “If you had any veritaserum I’d take it but then you’d just consider me delusional. I just want you to know I believe you are a good man. We’ll keep working on making you believe it too.”

“I don’t think the summer is long enough.” Severus picked up the book from the side table and made a point to open it as noisily as possible. “It’s been a long school year. Get some rest, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Severus.”