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Chapter Text

The Magic's swirled around the Old Kingdoms of the Isle of Albion communing with their follow-ers and strengthening their defences as best they might. Very few Wizard's realised the touch of their Masters, but the so called 'Creatures' heard the message and silently prepared for the inevita-ble show down not just between the Lords of Light and Dark, but for the clash between human and non-human kinds as they rallied to support the Grey Lord and the renewal of their world which was on the brink of destruction.

The two powers paused briefly at a certain Manor House with a brief flicker of satisfaction and apprehension as they looked upon the Boy-Who-Lived and his companion. The Grey Lord was growing up fast and was powerful but compared to his two counterparts he was still woefully un-derpowered even with the boost of having Basilisk poison and phoenix tears flowing through his veins connecting him closer to Magic than any one since Merlin had ever been. Gifted with the staff of Gwydion Gwinn the founder of the Evens line and the philosophers stone both powerful ob-jects gave them hope. After all they were not all powerful and this was the last chance for the Mag-ic of Albion to be revived.

…............................................................................................................................................................

Lord Harry Potter-Black was a highly unusual boy in many ways. Due to the years of abuse and neglect his Uncle and Aunt had heaped on him he had developed very little or no emotions, or feel-ings of empathy to any other person except one, Draco Malfoy. He also happened to be a very powerful wizard for his age.

It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed, an illuminated globe of light rest-ing on one shoulder and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathinda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, “Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless —discuss.”

The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Harry pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, moved his wand closer to the book, and read,

Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles)
were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times,
but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that
they did catch a real witch or wizard,
burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch
or wizard would perform a basic Flame- Freezing
Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while
enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed,
Wendel in the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that
she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises.

Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his ink bottle and a roll of parchment. The door suddenly slammed open and the pot of ink went flying covering Harry, His pillow and bed in a swathe of green ink,

“Caught you in the act!!! Mother told you to rest as you still need to recover from that awful snake bite even though a phoenix healed your wound.”

Harry blinked behind his ink covered glasses and sighed softly before muttering a banishing and cleaning spell to get rid of the ink that liberally adorned his person and his bed. Draco started for-ward towards the bed and sliding in next to Harry,

“You just ruined a perfectly good essay, and I would rather get it done now then have to worry about it later on. Anyway, your Mother says you should start sleeping in your own bed occasionally as we are now young adults and not children any more.”

Draco pouted and shivered slightly in the cool night air and snuggled closer to Harry's warm body, careful not to disturb the sleeping Whisper (in cat form) at the foot of Harry’s bed.

“Come on Harry don't be like that, both of us know as soon as we return to Hogwarts, I will be straight back in your bed again. Besides it is your Birthday in eight minutes and you don't want to be alone on your birthday. Anyway, you know you sleep better with me in the bed with you and it is my duty as your best friend and closest companion to make sure you get a good rest and to look after you.”

Harry sighed gently and turned off the globe bathing the room in darkness,

“If your mum yells at us I'll just claim I was already asleep when you snuck in.”

“Mmmm, warm. Good night Ry.”

“Good night Dray.”

Chapter Text

Dumbledore paced the deserted hall of the school of Hogwarts sucking on a sherbet lemon relish-ing the sour tasted in his mouth and thinking furiously. Thank goodness that Black had escaped ex-actly when he had. The political backlash against the school and especially the Headmaster from last year’s adventures had gone badly. The Governors of the school also had been questioned and were questioning him about the petrified children as well as the Chamber of Secrets being opened once again and had put more pressure on his shoulders.

Dumbledore had quickly jumped at the escape of Sirius Black making sure everyone forgot the incident as the new and more deadly threat had the Wizarding world once again looking to him for guidance and protection against Voldemort's right-hand man. This was the edge that he needed to get Harry Potter back under his thumb and out of the damned Malfoy's grasp. He could send the boy to Snape's cottage (for Harry's own protection of course) with instructions on how to beat the pest into submission, but the potion master had to close ties with the Malfoy's and they could still influence the boy against him. Or he could send the brat to the Weasley's, Molly would soon have him whipped in to shape. With that grand plan in mind he strode to his office to write Mrs Weasley a letter.

As he sat down at his desk he swore under his breath as an old newspaper reminded him that the Weasley's were not available at the moment:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE
SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet,

“We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a
curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.”

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school
year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

He sneered at the picture as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him,
standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump or he mentally added 'boarder line obese', little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn’t show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall, gan-gling with a smug look in his eye, his pet rat, Stabbers, squatting on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.

He sneered at the picture remembering how useless the whole family was and their failed to en-trap Harry in his web. They would be some of the first to pay when he had final control of this world.

…............................................................................................................................................................

Harry woke up with a familiar weight sprawled on top of him pinning him to his bed. He stayed still breathing gently as his brain switched from sleeping to awake. He frowned as his dreams from the night before came foggily back to him, making little sense. The weight on top of him shifted, an arm wrapped around him more securely and a leg tangled up with his. It shifted slightly moving up to press against a delicate part of Harry's anatomy. Harry stilled even more, unsure why his body was reacting to this stimulus as he had never felt any need to pay attention to this facet of his anatomy before. But the way his body was now reacting was......interesting.

Harry groaned softly as Draco's leg twitched slightly indicating the other was also slowly waking from his slumber. The blond head nuzzled Harry's neck slightly just under the Raven's chin filling Harry's nose with the scent that was uniquely Draco, making Harry's predicament all the more ob-vious and uncomfortable.

A pop sounded by the door and the curtains opened signalled the arrival of their morning wakeup call from a resident house elf,

“Mornings Masters, rises and shines. Mistress says breakfast is in 8.30's. So yous has half some hours to make readys for the day.”

Harry wondered absently if the House Elves had a different language they used when talking to each other, the way they mangled the correct forms of the English language was certainly not right if it truly was their first language.

The leg pressed against Harry straightened out and a disgruntled mumbling erupted from a slightly awake blond. A bleary eye opened and looked up in to the half-hooded eyes of his bed companion,

“Comfy, don't wanna move.”

Harry's mouth twitched upwards at the cuteness of the boy. It seemed that the house elves were not the only one to abuse the common tongue. But nature was now calling Harry to try and move the other boy off him and the other reluctantly shifted over to allow the Raven to slip out of bed and into the bathroom much to his relief.

Harry had just finished brushing his teeth when a yelp came from the bed room,

“BIRTHDAY!!!!”

Harry shrugged at his best friends’ antics. The blond got excited about the strangest of things.

' Must be one of Draco's friend’s special day.'

“Harry, Hurry up in there. We need to go down stair to open your presents. Quickly!!!!”

' Ah, forgot. My birthday.'

Chapter Text

Breakfast was a quiet family time of the day. It had been even quieter since Harry and Draco had returned from school. Lord Malfoy might be on paper the Lord and Master of all that he owns but in reality, even he will bow to the might of Lady Malfoy-Black when she is in a fury; the knowledge that Lucius had endangered not only the school by planting the possessed book but had gotten Harry and Draco involved in his ill thought out scheme to humiliate the Weasley family was in her eyes, unacceptable!! Lucius had taken to coming out of his office only when it was time for food or to visit the Ministry. Harry had also noticed the sofa in there had a distinct slept in look about it.

Today, breakfast had a warmer feel about it. The boys entered the breakfast room to be greeted by Lady Malfoy and the customary peck on her cheek and a polite greeting to Lord Malfoy, who had the Daily Prophet spread out before him open at the business section. Harry picked a light break-fast from the side board and sat down pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“Happy Birthday Harry. Did Draco allow you to sleep well after he got in to your bed?”

Draco's ears turned a shade of pink at his mother’s subtle rebuke and his fathers raised eyebrow but remained composed.

“Yes, thankyou Mrs Malfoy, my sleep was undisturbed by Draco.”

Harry hesitated for a second, His Uncle had taught him well never to ask questions but his dreams last night had struck a chord within him and he felt it was worth Lord Malfoy's displeasure if the question seemed impermanent.

“Lord Malfoy?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Who are 'The Lords'?”

Lord Malfoy's expression blanked in to the infamous Malfoy mask and a sharp hiss escaped from Lady Malfoy's mouth and her lips thinned. Draco feeling the sudden tension looked up from his eating and frowned,

“You know who the Lords are, Harry. It is people like us who have a ‘title’...”

Harry shook his head. He eyed the elder Malfoy's wearily. Lord Malfoy opened his mouth almost unwillingly,

“What do you want to know about them Harry?”

“I don't know?”

Lord Malfoy slowly folded his paper and handed it to a waiting House elf before taking a long drink from his Morning teacup. He looked at both boy’s making sure they were paying full atten-tion.

“In nature everything has an equal opposite. This is the same with magic. There are two sets of supposedly equal forces. The magic of the 'Light' and the magic of the 'Dark'. Each side must bal-ance for magic to work. Are you with me so far?”

Harry nodded as Draco listened with wrapped interest to his father’s story.

“To maintain this balance two beings are chosen to keep the balance in this country: these beings are 'The Lords,' they are answerable only to Magic as they are the supposed 'avatars' and 'will' of the Powers, according to the history books. Then about 700 years ago not that ‘the so-called Lords' will admit it, something went wrong. The opposites instead of working together began fighting, each trying to gain dominance over the other. Wizards were forced take sides either on the Light side or the Dark side to stop their families magic from weakening. The war that followed wiped many of the old families out and drove many species of magical animals nearly too extinction. It finally calmed down and the Ministry of Magic was formed to stop this from happening again.”

Draco opened his mouth,

“So, who are these Lords?”

Harry looked at his best friend exasperated. Maybe there was some truth in the myths about blonds. Mrs Malfoy also seemed to think the same as she shot a sharp look at her only son. Realising he’d asked a stupid question Draco took an embarrassed gulp from his cup. Mr Malfoy nodded slightly,

“Exactly, the most recent Lords are one Albus Dumbledore and the absent Lord Voldemort.”

Harry looked thoughtful, his mind working a mile a minute,

“So, where do I fit in to this? Both Lords seem to have a very unhealthy interest in me and I don't like it. One thing doesn't make sense though, where does Grey magic come from?”

Mr Malfoy suddenly looked tired.

“I do not know Harry. The only one who possibly knows is Albus and the chances that he would give up that information is next to nil. In answer to your second question. Grey magic is more the magic of none human species or children before their magic develops, a Wild or instinctive magic if you will, not really used by Witches or Wizards unless specifically trained, or family magic. For example, I believe one of Narcissa’s nieces is a natural meta-morph, a power that only runs in the Black family.”

“So actually, there are three powers instead of two then?”

“To be honest Harry, I am no expert on the history of Magic. If you wish to learn more you know where to look in the library. I have a meeting with my estate manager soon and would like to finish my tea before then so no more questions.”

Harry nodded silently and bowed his head to the Head of the House in thanks for the information. Draco shifted in his seat sending puppy dog eyes at the trio around the table,

“Father …. can Harry and I be excused from the table? Remember it is his birthday today and there are presents to open. Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle have already sent their presents and I told the house elf to add them to the pile that we are giving him.”

Harry looked blank at the mention of presents. Why would his fellow Slytherin's send presents to him for his birthday? Christmas was another matter because everyone sent presents to each other. But for a Birthday he'd never considered that anyone would send him presents. It was not like they were his friends. Harry didn't have friends, only people he had to tolerate. He supposed he more than tolerated Draco, but.... Draco was special.

His presents were...interesting. Pansy and Blaise had sent him a sneak-o scope to tell when his en-emies were near. Crabbe and Goyle had sent sweets of all kinds and Mr and Mrs Malfoy had brought him some new robes made of green silk with a silver lining that they said made his eyes flash even greener when he held it up to himself. Draco had also brought him a gift which Harry guarded carefully. It was a reptile cleaning kit for shiny scales and sharp claws to be used on Whisper when the shape shifter wanted to be pampered.

Chapter Text

The rest of the summer past quickly. Mr Malfoy seemed to spend a lot more time at the ministry. Harry guessed it was something to do with the escape of Sirius Black, the atrocious mass murderer.

When Draco had pestered his parents about information on his mother’s cousin, the older Mal-foy's were cagey at giving details or they had made an excuse not to say anything. Frustrated at the lack of answers Draco made up wild stories of what Sirius had actually done to deserve his time in the wizards’ worse prison, while Harry nose deep in a book of Wizard defensive charms and wards, only half listen to his companion as he had no interest at all in the topic.

“Hay Dray, I have just had a weird thought.”

“Yes?”

“In the Muggle world every school has a map of the United Kingdom on the wall. Well, I was just thinking…”

“Humph Muggles. What do they know?”

“Hush Draco, The Muggles are more advanced than you could imagine. Any way back to my point. In this book it is talking about muggle repelling charms and anti- muggle warded areas. Do you know how much of the UK has the Wizarding world actually hidden from the Muggles?”

Draco looked thoughtful for a minute thinking hard.

“I'm not sure. Even in the Wizarding World most maps are not very accurate. With a memory mod-ification spell and a secrecy ward whole islands have been known to vanish forever.”

Harry chewed his lip thoughtfully,

“Like Atlantis?”

Draco snorted,

“No Atlantis really did sink. It is believed that is where all those with magic blood originally came from. The magical 'cradle of life' as it were. I was thinking of Avalon actually.”

“Ah, right.”

…............................................................................................................................................................

BLACK STILL AT LARGE

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner
ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding
capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this
morning, and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International
Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,” said an irritable Fudge. “Black is mad.
He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle.
I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s
true identity to anyone. And let’s face it — who’d believe him if he did?”
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun
(a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in
fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when
Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive with madness. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his De-fence Against the Dark Arts class books, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.

'A single curse, hmm. I wonder which one he used, it would a useful spell to learn.'

Harry put down the newspaper and let out a gentle breath. He glanced at the clock and nodded to himself. He had roughly two hours before dinner and had been informed at breakfast that the Min-ister and his wife would be joining them to discuss some business with the older Malfoy. Best robes and behaviour were required tonight.

Dinner was tedious as Harry had expected. The Minister and his wife swapping meaningless pleasantries with the older Malfoy's keeping the tone light and away from anything interesting in Harry’s opinion. Over the evening Harry could not help but notice Fudges eyes kept on glancing at him and a half frown flashed across the portly man face each time he looked before a comment or question from the others around the dinner table re-caught his attention.

“Excellent dinner as always Lucius, your wife should be complimented on her dishes as well. Un-fortunately, duty calls and We must sadly leave you, early start tomorrow I am afraid. But before we go, I was wondering if I could have a quick word with young Harry in private? Don’t worry it will only take a couple of minutes?”

Lord Malfoy's shut down slightly as if he had been dreading this particular question but gave a quick nod towards Harry as permission and a warning to the young man to be on his guard around the older man.

“Perhaps you would like to use my office for your conversation. I had the best of anti- eavesdrop-ping spells installed not long ago so it will be perfect for your private business.”

“Ahh, perfect, My thanks, Lucius. Come along Harry, I will not take long.”

Fudge, indicated a chair by the fire. Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms de-spite
the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.

“Well Harry boy it is good to finally good to talk to you. Nasty business with your relatives: wishes I could do more but out of my due restriction you know, only the Minister of Magic you know, can't legally do anything to those Muggles. The Malfoy’s have been treating you alright then, Har-ry?”

“Perfectly, thankyou Minister. I could not ask for better guardians.”

“Splendid, splendid, good family the Malfoy’s.”

Harry blinked slowly at the babbling politician waiting for the man to make his point.

“The thing is Harry, what with Sirius Black now loose in the general population there are fears that he might try to go after some important people in revenge for his master’s demise. So please don’t go wondering off into the Muggle world or anywhere other than Diagon Alley without Lord Mal-foy’s supervision. Not that you would of course, eh m’boy.”

Harry gave a slight nod of his head in acceptance of this restriction. He had no intention of going in to the Muggle world anyway. Minister Fudge continued sweating slightly,

“This does include Hogsmeade this year I am afraid. Dumbledore spoke of his concerns about this and I must agree with him on this matter. I’m sure your friends can bring you back anything you need. The Ministry can’t fully protect you outside of Hogwarts but with Albus there and a few ex-tra precautions made by the Ministry it is the safest place in the U.K at the moment. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed . . . and they are angrier than I’ve ever seen them, so it won’t be for long you are restricted. Well I’ll be off. Plenty to do you know…….”

He stood up gathered his cloak and held out his hand. Harry remembering his manners shook it coldly and waited until the Minister had left the room before wiping his hand on the back of his robe to get rid of the sweaty hand shake the Minister had given him grimacing slightly. There was more going on with this Sirius Black then people were telling him.

Chapter Text

Diagon Alley was as busy as usual, but even the busy hoards parted way allowing the Malfoy fam-ily and guest to traverse the Alley with ease, but not without a whisper and a point in Harry’s direc-tion which he pointedly ignored. Potions ingredients and paraphernalia for the new year at Hog-warts were quickly gathered before heading to their last stop at the book shop. A harried shop assis-tant looked at the family with a horrified despairing look,

“Hogwarts books I presume?”

Lord Malfoy gave an imperious nodded and the man seemed to shrink into himself before straightening up and pulling a large pair of reinforced gloves and marching off as if he were going to battle. Draco raised an eyebrow at his companion and the family moved to follow the assistant, bemused.

The assistant led them to a cage in the corner of the store. Draco moved forward to peer in and jerked back suddenly as a loud papery roar came from behind the bars. The assistant gestured to-wards the cage,

“Your books for the Care of Magical Creatures, the acclaimed, ‘Monster Book of Monsters’. Please tell me you only want one? This is my third pair of gloves today.”

The assistant whimpered as Lord Malfoy held up two fingers but resolutely move forward. There was more roaring and snapping as the assistant reached in and brought out a snapping book that was busy trying to bite off the poor man’s hand. Draco shrank back as the man offered the book to the blond. Lord Malfoy calmly pulled out his wand and ‘stupefied’ their new acquisition. He then lazily with all the drollness of an aristocrat sent another ‘stupefy’ at the cage rendering its inhabit-ancy harmless, levitating a second copy for Harry’s use.

The shop went silent at the display of magic and the worker in charge groaned in anguish before bursting into tears of relief at the simple solution the Lord had given him. They quickly paid for their books before Harry realised, he had one thing more to do,

“I need to go to the pet shop to buy some things for Whisper. He is shifting more often and getting bigger, I need a different variety of food to feed him. Is this acceptable Mr Malfoy?”

Lord Malfoy glanced at a nearby clock tower before nodding his assent,

“Draco, please escort Harry to the shop. Narcissa and I have some purchases that can be made to-day but try not to be too long as you still need to pack for tomorrow, no wondering off, go straight there and straight back.”

Both boys nodded and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie. There wasn’t much room in-side. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages and shelves. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry and Draco waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tor-toise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were also cats of every colour even one that Harry could swear was a bright pink, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-coloured furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails as rope.

Harry had moved to the food section and was looking at what was for sale, Whisper seemed to pre-fer his cat and snake shifts as well as his original lizard form to any others and Harry wondered if he should buy treats for all three forms, when Draco groaned,

“Just our luck. I was hoping not to see the wretched trio until well into the school year.”

Harry looked up already knowing whom his friend was referring too. Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and umm…. what was her name again? Ah, Gig…no? Anyway, Weasley’s little sister, the stalker. The trio looked around the store as Draco pulled Harry behind the shelves of sawdust to avoid detection. Harry found his body once again reacting to Draco’s close proximity as Draco’s scent wafted up his nose. He shifted slightly to get into a more comfortable position. The double-ended newt wizard left, and the Trio approached the counter.

“It’s my rat, Stabbers. He’s been a bit off-colour ever since I brought him back from Egypt.”

The witch, pulled a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

“Bang him on the counter,”

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took. Like nearly everything Ron owned, Stabbers the rat was second-hand (he had once belonged to Ron’s brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone. the witch, picked up Stabbers.

“Hmm. How old is this rat?”

“Dunne. Quite old. He used to belong to my brother.”

“What powers does he have?”

“Er —”

The witch, examining Scabbers closely. The witch’s eyes moved from Scabbers’s tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

“He’s been through the mill, this one.”

“He was like that when Percy gave him to me.”

“An ordinary common or garden rat like this can’t be expected to live longer than three years or so. Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these — Well, if you don’t want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic.”

“Okay, how much? Hermione could you loan — OUCH!”

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers. Draco sniggered at the painful cries emitting from the frightful red head.

“NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!”

Scabbers shot from between the witch’s hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

“Scabbers!”

Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him. Followed by his little sister yelling for the rat to stop and her brother to wait. Draco and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as two of the trio disappeared. Harry quickly grabbed his items and paid for them as quickly as possible. There was a sharp inha-lation behind them and Draco cringed in anticipation of the dirty muggle-blood trying to either abuse them or be sickly sweet. Harry quickly grabbed him and bolted before the ‘know-it-all’ opened her overly large mouth.

They made their way back down the crowded street from the Magical Menagerie to the pre-arranged meeting point and a floo home.

Chapter Text

Harry was halfway along one of the passages that lead to his bedroom, coming from the library when he heard another pair of quiet voices coming from the evening parlour. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. and Mrs Malfoy. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he’d heard them talking, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlour door.

“… makes no sense not to tell him. Harry’s got a right to know. I’ve tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. Blasted Dumbledore is sticking his nose where it does not be-long again as well. He’s thirteen years old, but he is like no teenager I have ever met before —”

“That is true, but if it were found out that we had told him especially when the Minister forbayed it. Harry could be taken away and place in a purely pro-light family where Dumbledore could do virtually what he like with the boy. Dumbledore will look for any reason to get at Harry, it was him after all that placed him with those Muggles and sealed the Potter’s will. One mistake and all we have worked for will be ruined, Lucius.”

“I know that. I…I don’t want to make him miserable; I want to put him on his guard! I’m pre-pared to bet he would have been dead with-in 5 years if we hadn’t him taken away from the Light faction. He has been in too many dangerous situations already. Yes, I know I didn’t help the situa-tion last year but the old goat is constantly testing him and our family.”

There was a clink of a glass being picked up and after a pause replaced on a side table.

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

“Narcissa, they say Sirius Black’s mad, after all he is a Black and the Black Madness is famous as well you know, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that’s supposed to be im-possible. It’s been three weeks, and no one’s seen hide nor hair of him, and I don’t care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, no one is nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black’s after —”

A sharp intake of breath was heard from Narcissus at her husband’s unspoken words.

“But Harry will be safer at Hogwarts then outside it even with that meddler. At the moment his reputation after last year is not as it was and Dumbledore needs to tread carefully. With the eyes of the press on this Dumbledore is surly would not be stupid enough to do something to blatant to the ‘boy-who-lived. Anyway no one’s absolutely sure that Black’s after Harry —”

“Narcissa, they didn’t report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: ‘He’s at Hogwarts… he’s at Hogwarts.’ Black is as deranged as your dear sister, whom if you remember was in the cell right next to Black’s.”

“We too lost a lot when the Dark Lord fell. Thank goodness that you were only an associate of his, handling his legal matters rather than one of his marked followers. The Malfoy have always been a Grey family never a Dark family even though my maiden family was firmly entrenched in the magic. We are called the Blacks for a reason. Regardless, you and I have special blood running through our veins, I thank my lucky stars daily that our fathers agreed to marry me to you and not some other Lord, it would have been unbearable to hide my magic and become corrupted.

There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, thinking hard. He knew there was more to it than just an escaped convict and the Ministers visit, but it was nice to get confirmation. He would have to be extra careful this year as he did not want any harm come to Draco because of him. He had also guessed that the Malfoy’s were not quiet human, Harry wondered which kind of creature blood ran through their family and how it would affect his friendship with Draco. As qui-etly as he could, he hurried down the passages and up the stairs to his bedroom and out of sight. The parlour door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were climbing the stairs.

Chapter Text

Dumbledore was slightly mollified by his latest plan to only allow the bare minimum of infor-mation to be leaked to his less than ideal pawn but that could be changed if he were careful enough. It was not much, but it was a start to lure the boy to his death. Any weakness he had found over the course of his long life could be used to his advantage and the more people were kept ignorant the more power he held over them. He had also confined the boy to the castle and while the pawn’s friends were happy in Hogsmeade doing Slytherin things, it would be his chance to work on the boy back to his original ideas and agenda.

Knowledge was power and he controlled that power being the Headmaster of the school and defacto ruler of the Wizarding Ministry as well as the International Representative of the country. He could silence and extend any information, good or bad, to anyone he wants and it was taken as truth. Ohhh, the secrets he knew. All for the ‘Greater Good’ of course. He would mould his little weapon in much the same way he had created Voldemort, by the manipulation of information and if needed a few subtle threats just to smooth the way.

Maybe he could get Harry to split his soul as well, just as a test of course. The only problem with that was he would have to regulate how many the boy made. It had taken the old man by surprise when he realised that Voldemort had made more than one Horcrux and annoyed him a little as now he would have to go looking for the other pieces of his old puppet’s soul. He absentmindedly popped another sweet into his mouth shuddering deliciously at the sour taste that went with it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry, Draco, Pansy, Blaise and of course Crabbe and Goyle set off down the corridor of the Hog-warts Express, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train. This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The Slytherins checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with grey. The Slytherins noses wricked in silent horror at the sight.

“Who d’you reckon he is?”

Pansy hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the win-dow and the unknown man.

“Professor R. J. Lupin.”

“How’d you know that?”

“It’s on his suitcase,”

She pointed at the luggage rack over the man’s head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters. They gingerly sat down trying to avoid the ill-dressed teacher. Draco’s sneer was epic, no Slytherin or Ravenclaw would be seen dead in such an appal-ling manner of dress and posture. Must be an ex- Hufflepuff or a Griffindor.

The train ride was a quiet one for Harry who had within five minutes of starting off pulled out a book and was ignoring everyone’s existence engrossed in his reading. Draco tried to drag him into conversation a few times with the others but Harry was not in the mood to pretend to be sociable and ignored the blond who went in to a snarky sulk. The others used to the two’s interactions made quiet conversation between themselves until Draco cheered up. The weather outside looked terri-ble and the Slytherins started looking through their books for a simple rain repellent charm for when they had to venture out side. Harry absentmindedly gave them the correct spell when Draco nagged him for it, not bothering to try and look it up.

“Harry should really have been in Ravenclaw with the amount he reads.”

Draco huffed,

“Don’t insult him. Harry is twice as sneaky as any Ravenclaw. If it weren’t for him none of us would have gotten the grades, we did last year and kept Granger from getting the best scores.”

Harry raised his eyes over the top of his book and smirked at the others before resuming to read.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

“We must be nearly there,”

Blaise leaned forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down. Pansy also lent over and looked out of the window.

“We can’t be there yet, so why’re we stopping?”

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Goyle, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

Harry muttered something under his breath and a small globe of light shot from his wand to hover above their heads. The others in the compartment quickly sorted themselves out after their initial surprise and Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last from his dark corner. Harry could hear movements in his corner.

None of them spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compart-ment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames which added to the light already hovering above them. They illuminated his tired, grey face, but his eyes looked alert and wary. He got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him and moved towards the door.

But the door slid slowly opened before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked fig-ure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes dart-ed downward, and what he saw made his scar and stomach tingle almost like pins and needles. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Har-ry’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as
though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest; it was inside his very heart…

Harry’s eyes bored into the humanoid shape, challenging it to make a move. Subtle power shifted between the being and Harry as the creature swayed in the door way icing up the widows with its mere presence. The other Slytherin’s were moaning pitifully as all their happiness felt like it was being drained from them and Harry shifted slightly to protect Draco if the thing decided to make a move. Professor Lupin walked toward the Dementor and pulled out his wand.

“None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go!!!!!”

But the Dementor didn’t move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away, Harry’s eyes following it. A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into piece hand-ing it out to his class mates then holding out a particularly large piece to Harry, his tawny eyes puzzled as his gaze lingered on the Raven’s face before dropping submissively.

“Eat it. It’ll help.”

Harry took the chocolate but didn’t eat it.

“What was that thing?”

“A Dementor, One of the Dementors of Azkaban.”

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

“Eat, it’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…”

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Harry?”

Draco, watched Harry anxiously. The Professor might not have noticed but the others in the cabin certainly had. When the Dementor had nearly entered the compartment, Harry’s eyes had started to glow as they fixed themselves on the beast and the deathly cold had subsided slightly as if Harry was shielding them from the full effects of the Dementor’s aura. Harry nodded curtly and pulled Draco down beside him an arm wrapped firmly around the blonde’s shoulders. The others straight-ened up and Crabbe and Goyle started to nibble on the chocolate,

“Eat, it really does help like the professor said.”

The others excluding Harry, followed Goyle’s advice and immediately started to feel better. Harry was still holding his, looked thoughtful before handing it to Draco, still in his arms, to eat as the boy still looked horribly shaken. They didn’t talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville’s pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets. Fortunately, they had cast the rain repellent spell but the wind still drove icy blasts at them as they battled their pride not to run to-wards the warmth of the carriages.

Chapter Text

“Welcome!”

Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard, looked benevolently over the students,

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…”

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued,

“As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently play-ing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,”

His eyes flashed at Harry for a second, narrowing. Harry knew that Professor Lupin had run straight to the old man with the story of the incident on the train. He ignored the look as Dumble-dore continued to speak.

“It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors.”

Percy, who was sitting at the opposite table from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and no-body moved or made a sound.

“On a happier note. I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teach-er.”

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause.

“Look at Uncle Severus!”

Draco hissed in Harry’s ear.

Professor Severus Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lu-pin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even those who hated Snape, were startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression; it was the look Snape wore the first time he set eyes on Harry.

Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away.

“As to our second new appointment “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

Draco, Blaise and Pansy stared at one another, stunned.

“They are letting that great oaf teach!!! No wonder we were assigned those carnivorous books, the man is and idiot with no teaching skill at all. My father will be furious that this was not put in front of the school board. Merlin knows what useless things we will be taught this year.”

The other Slytherins close to Draco nodded silently in agreement.

Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping and looking smug as if they had personally hired the giant man for their personal pleasure this year, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

The feast was finally finished and it was time to adjourn, the Slytherins tiredly trooped down in to the dungeons and through the secret door (obtulit inmaculatum- unblemished) and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. They reached their fa-miliar dormitory with its two four-poster beds, and Harry looked around at the room He and Draco resided in. He lazily swished his wand and muttered a few spells to secure the room as Draco start-ed to unpack. Harry’s bed also grew slightly as He knew Draco would invertible find his way into Harry’s bed never mind the faint objections the other had.

Chapter Text

Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday’s rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale grey, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Draco was sneering and talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling and mak-ing valid remarks at the Gryffindor’s as Harry walked beside them in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid’s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

“C’mon, now, get a move on! Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson cumin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”

For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harry had had enough unpleasant experiences to last him a lifetime and had no wish to add to them this early in the year, especially if Draco was going to be involved as well. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

“Everyone gathers ‘round the fence here! That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

“How?”

The cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy echoed in the silence.

“Eh?”

“How do we open our books?”

Draco took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harry, had belted their book shut; oth-ers had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

Hasn’ — hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books.”

The class all shook their heads.

“Yeh’ve got ter stroke ‘em, Look —”

He took Hermione’s copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay
quiet in his hand. Draco sneered at giant man.

“Oh, how silly we’ve all been! We should have stroked them! Why didn’t we guess!”

“I — I thought they were funny,”

Hagrid looked uncertainly to Hermione at if wanting her approval. She glared at the Slytherin and then smiled sickly sweet at the teacher who brightened up as if he had been given a great treat.

“Righ’ then, so — so yeh’ve got yer books an’… an’… now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So, I’ll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on…”

Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

“God, this place is going to the dogs. That oaf teaching classes, my father will have a fit when I tell him —”

Harry gestured for Draco to be quiet for a second, He felt something against his magic but a warm-er feel then the Dementor’s. Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-coloured beaks and large, brilliantly, or-ange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

“Hippogriffs!” “Beau’iful, aren’ they?” reluctantly with the man.

Harry had to agree, he could sort of see what Hagrid meant. There was certainly a wildness about them that tugged at his magic and a look in their eyes that spoke of pride, arrogance and self-assurance much the same look as was in his only friends own eyes.

Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. Once you got over the first shock of seeing some-thing that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs’ gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different colour: stormy grey, bronze, pink-ish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

“So….”

Hagrid, rubbed his hands together and beaming around,

“…. if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer…”

No one seemed to want to. Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously glar-ing at any one to comment. Blaise quietly ask if anyone was making bets on if the duo got savaged, but he was ignored.

“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is, they’re proud. Easily offended, Hippo-griffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren’t listening; they were talking in an undertone and Harry had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson. He nudged the blond to pay atten-tion.

“Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move. It’s polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt.”

“Right — who wants ter go first?”

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this. Hagrid’s eyes fixed on his two Gryffindor students eyes pleading. Hermione suddenly looked panicky trying to find a way out without offending the teacher, she looked around wildly before resting on the Slytherin group,

“How about Harry-Wonder-boy-Potter. He just loves animals and is so brave as well.”

Hagrid smiled relieved at the instructions given to him by the Know-it-all. The rest of the class glared at the girl who looked smug at dodging the proverbial bullet along with Ron.

“’right, ‘Arry, step forward and enter the paddock.”

There was an intake of breath from behind him, Harry ignored them. He climbed over the pad-dock fence his magic humming gently, unafraid of the giant beasts.

“Good man, Harry! Right then — let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”

He untied one of the chains, pulled the grey Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Mal-foy’s eyes were narrowed in fear for his more than friend.

“Easy now, Harry. Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much…”

Harry’s eyes immediately began to glow slightly as he looked at the animal, but he didn’t shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye.

“Tha’s it, tha’s it, Harry… now, bow.”

Harry didn’t feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short incline of his head as a King would give a trusted servant.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him, didn’t move.

“Ah... Right — back away, now, Harry, easy does it —I did say ‘bow’ an’ they were prideful”

Hagrid, sounding worried. But then, to Hagrid’s enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow, beak almost touching the ground.

“Well done, Harry! Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!”

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times, gesturing it to rise and the Hippogriff did so closing its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for Ron and Hermione, who were looking deeply dis-appointed.

“Righ’ then, Harry. I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him!”

This was more than Harry had bargained for.

“Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint, an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that…”

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak’s wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn’t sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered with feathers.
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. The Hippogriff’s wings beat uncom-fortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just man-aged to hold on and push himself straight again.

Emboldened by Harry’s success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Ha-grid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the pad-dock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on Buckbeak. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over a beautiful chestnut. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking happy.

“This is very easy,”

Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to, hear him.

“I knew it must have been, if Harry could do it…

The Hippogriff glanced at the raven-haired boy, who looked ready to intervene if Draco looked like he was in trouble and butted the blond gently in reprimand. Ron who had been stroking Buck-beak glowed at the Slytherins next to him in dislike,

I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?”

He said to the Hippogriff.

“Are you, you great ugly brute?”

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Weasley let out a high-pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Weasley, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

“I’m dying! I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”

Hagrid, had gone very white.

“Yer not dyin’! Someone help me — gotta get him outta here —”

Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Weasley easily. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on Ron’s arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid as well as the Gryffindor’s trying to defend their accusations.

“They should sack him straight away!”

“It was Potters fault!”

Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

“I’m going to see if he’s okay!”

Hermione run up the marble staircase and out of sight quickly followed by the other Gryffindor’s’. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon com-mon room. Blaise slipped beside Harry,

“Should have made that bet about one of them getting savaged. Could have made a good bit of money there.”

Chapter Text

Harry loved the under-dungeons and catacombs that lay under the castle. This was the true heart of Hogwarts from when she was new. Dusty store rooms and age-old offices lay forgotten even by the busy house elves, the furniture long taken away or mouldering quietly behind closed doors. Odd rooms that their original purpose could to be only guessed at. Strange glowing plants grew from some of the walls and hung down from the ceilings. Sounds of water echoed down here as well, dripping and flowing from the lake above or from a disused pipe that once supplied water to this part of the castle.

Harry had one found an old well driven down in one of the rooms, its rope and bucket lost a long time ago or rotten into dust. He had dropped a stone down to see how deep it was but no sound had returned.

Whisper, in his cat form also like to explore this underground world not needing a lighted wand to see with and often showed Harry some of the more interesting places that hid in the bowls of Hog-warts. Most of all Harry could hear clearly down here. The whisper of the walls with memories of even before Hogwarts became a school still echoed clearly down in the shadows. He even occa-sionally caught glimpses of what life was like in the past and magics that had been lost or forgotten.

It was not often he came so far into this part of the castle for Draco had made it his mission to keep close to him, but Blaise and Pansy had dragged him off somewhere for an hour or two and Harry had slipped away needing some peace and quiet. Whisper curled around his legs, slowly morphing in to his second favourite shape of a serpent and sliding up his body to wrap around his shoulders. Harry absent mindedly stroked the scaled head and followed a cobwebbed passage back up into a more inhabited part of the castle, listening and learning.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Hey, Harry?”

Theodore Nott leaned over to borrow Harry’s brass scales,

“Have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted.”

“…and I care, why?”

On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely. Nott frowned impatiently.

“Because He is probably after you. He is not too far from here. It was a Muggle who saw him. ‘Course, she didn’t really understand. The Muggles think he’s just an ordinary criminal, don’t they? So, she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone.”

“So, not too far from here…”

Harry repeated, He turned around and saw the wretched Weasley (arm still in a sling) watching closely.

“What, Weasel? Need something?”

Ron’s eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He leaned across the table.

“Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?”

“Why should I bother doing that. I have no interest in chasing anybody or anything.

Weasley’s pudgy mouth was curving in a mean smile.

“Of course, you aren’t, your nothing but a coward and traitor, if it was me. I’d have done some-thing before now. I wouldn’t be staying in school like a good boy, I’d be out there looking for him.”

Draco started to glare at the spotty red head. Puberty was not treating the Gryffindor well at all.

“What are you talking about, Weasel?”

“Don’t you know, Potter?”

“Know what?”

Weasley let out a low, sneering laugh.

“Maybe you’d rather not risk your neck, typical slimy Slytherin. Want to leave it to the De-mentors, do you? But if it was me, I’d want revenge. I’d hunt him down myself.”

Harry just shrugged and turned away from the irritating little twerp. What did he care about getting revenge on a person that had not personally insulted him or Draco. His only interests were studying and Draco, the rest of the world could go hang its self as far as he was concerned.

But at that moment Snape called,

“You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we’ll test Longbottom’s potion…”

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn’t see. Harry and Draco packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and la-dles in the stone basin in the corner. The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

“Everyone gather ‘round…”

Snape, his black eyes glittering in anticipation of disaster,

“…and watch what happens to Longbottom’s toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking So-lution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don’t doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned.”

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville’s potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor’s throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape’s palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

“Five points from Gryffindor, I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”

Chapter Text

Their next class was Defence and they had to hurry to attend as it was a trek from the potion’s lab to the second floor. Fortunately, there was several secret passages that cut the time down but there was no time to dawdle.

Professor Lupin wasn’t there when they arrived at his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

“Good afternoon. Would you please put all your books back in your bags? Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.”

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defence Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

“Right then. If you’d follow me.”

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the class-room. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in mid-air and stuffing the nearest key-hole with chewing gum. Peeves didn’t look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

“Loony, loopy Lupin, Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —”

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

“This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely.”

He raised the wand to shoulder height and pointed it at Peeves.

“Waddiwasi!”

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight up Peeves’s left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

The staffroom, a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him. The Slytherin gave him a quick bow in unison and the potion professor nodded back at them before rapidly leaving the room.

“Now, then,”

Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about. There’s a Boggart in there.”

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Daphne Greengrass, gave Professor Lupin a look of pure distain, and eyed the now rattling doorknob.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yester-day afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

“So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?”

Daphne put up her hand.

“It’s a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most. You can-not seriously expect us to reveal our darkest secrets to just anyone surly. If you hadn’t noticed Pro-fessor, most of us are pure bloods’ and any sign of weakness is not acceptable”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself. So, the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will imme-diately become whatever each of us most fears. As for your complaint, Miss Greengrass if you wish to fail this year’s exam in exchange for your pride there is the door. This is a school, not the Ministry. Better to learn your fear now where it cannot harm you then when you are in a life or death situation. This means…”

Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Daphne’s small sputter of indignation,

“…that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Har-ry?”

“— because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?”

“Precisely. It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to as-sume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!”

“All right every one form a line in front of the wardrobe, and wands at the ready…”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hits the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Millicent Bulstrode, shook slightly as a figure appeared out of the darkness. The school nurse stood there staring evilly at the girl, holding a syringe big enough to make even a troll blanch. The syringe dripped liquid from its tip as the boggart advanced on the girl.

The syringe seemed to ‘pop’ and in its place a large red lollypop appeared. Bulstrode quickly made way for another student behind her. Gregory Goyle, was next and the nurse spasmed in to a large cockroach,

“Riddikulus!”

It struggled briefly, caught in a sticky substance much like glue. Lupin watched carefully,

“Next.”

Pansy leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Pansy, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Pansy had frozen. Then —

“Riddikulus!”

The spider’s legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Tracey Davis squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry’s feet. He raised his wand, ready, but —

“Here!”

Professor Lupin suddenly, hurried forward. Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin,

“Riddikulus!”

Crack!

“Forward, Mr Malfoy, and finish him off!”

Draco whimpered quietly and Harry felt a strong rush of protectiveness run through him. He instinctively stepped in between the boggart and his blond friend, arm raise in a sign of rejection and banishment towards the nightmare creature. It paused looking at the raven, it seemed to flicker through different forms, curling and twisting fast than the eyes could catch before throwing its self-backwards towards its place of refuge, the doors of the wardrobe slammed shut. The class gaped for a moment before bursting out into quiet whispers. Lupin opened and closed his mouth for sev-eral seconds before gathering his wits,

“Umm, very good class. Let me see… two points to Slytherin for every person to tackle the Bog-gart…and five points to Harry for driving the boggart back into hiding.”

Harry frowned, He did not like the unknown professor using his name with such familiarity espe-cially when the man was using surname for the others in the class.

“Alright class over. Everyone, go and collect your belongings from the classroom.”

Chapter Text

“Aren’t you going to Hogsmeade, Harry? Why not? Hey —”

Crabbe looked around at his friends —

“you can come with us, Harry!”

“Er — no, thanks, Crabbe, “I — I’ve got to go to the library, got to get some work done. I have been forbidden to leave the school until Sirius Black is caught, remember.”

Harry, who wasn’t in the mood at the moment to have a lot of people staring avidly at the scar on his forehead when he went out in public, so the ban did not really bother him as he knew there was a chance he would be mobbed in the village. It was so annoying when he was trying to get some-where to be mobbed and touched. The new first years were especially aggravating as well as those who had not yet had the privilege of Harry or another Slytherin snarl at them for staring, especially from the Hufflepuff and Griffindor house.

Harry wandered toward the library. He turned a corner and came face-to-face with Filch, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Hogsmeade visitors.

“What are you doing?”

“Library,”

“Library!”

Filch spat, his jowls quivering unpleasantly.

“A likely story! Sneaking around on your own — why aren’t you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pel-lets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?”

Harry shrugged.

“Well, get back to your common room where you belong!”

He stood glaring until Harry had passed out of sight. But Harry didn’t go back to the common room; he climbed a staircase, thinking vaguely of visiting the section on charms and conjuration, and was walking along another corridor when a voice from inside one of the rooms said,

“Harry?”

Harry doubled back to see who had spoken and met Professor Lupin, looking around his office door.

“What are you doing? Where is Ron and Hermione?”

“I have no idea where Miss Granger or Mr Weasley are, nor do I care. Try Hogsmeade maybe, now if you will excuse me Proffessor. I have to get to the library.”

“Ah,”

Lupin considered Harry for a moment. This was not what he was expecting. He knew the son of one of his best friends had been sorted in to Slytherin, but he still had the image of Harry as a hap-py burbling baby cradled in his arms. Something had gone terribly wrong and for the sake of his old friends he was determined to help. Dumbledore had not mentioned anything wrong with the child when he had mentioned him, but looking at this cold elegant mannequin of a boy, he felt a sense of terrible unease and worry well up in himself.

The reason he had mentioned the two Gryffindor’s was that Dumbledore had mentioned that they were friends about a year ago when He had come to give his annual report to the Leader of the Light. But with Harry’s blank response to their names he was beginning to doubt this was the case.

“Why don’t you come in? I’ve just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson.”

“A what?”

He followed Lupin into his office interested. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

“Water demon,”

Lupin, surveyed the Grindylow thoughtfully.

“We shouldn’t have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappa’s. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle.”

The Grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.

“Cup of tea? I was just thinking of making one.”

“No thank you.”

Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout, ig-noring the rejection. Lupin, took the lid off a dusty tin without looking at the boy stood in his of-fice.

“Sit down. I’ve only got teabags, but they should still make a good cup of tea.”

“No thank you, I really must be going.”

He thought for a moment of telling Lupin to go jump off a cliff and legging it, but Lord Malfoy had impressed the need to be polite to the teachers at Hogwart’s and not to antagonise them. He also wanted to know why this strange person seemed so familiar with him.

Something of Harry’s thoughts seemed to have shown on his face.

“Anything worrying you, Harry?”

“No.”

Lupin sighed quietly and took a sip of tea. Harry drank a bit of tea as well and made a slight face, Lupin had lied the tea was appalling. He quietly banished the awful concoction in to the tank and watched the Grindylow brandishing a fist at him.

Lupin raised his eyebrows.

“I am surprised that you haven’t asked about why I tried to keep you away from the boggart.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”

Harry stared. Not only was this the last answer he’d expected, but Lupin had said Voldemort’s name. The only person Harry had ever heard say the name aloud (apart from himself) was Profes-sor Dumbledore.

“Clearly, I was wrong,”

Lupin was still frowning at Harry. Harry face now was a perfect in the image of a Slytherin mask looked back unblinkingly.

“But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic.”

Harry shrugged slightly. Lupin plodded on,

“The boggart had a defiantly unexpected reaction to you, didn’t he Harry. Do you have an explana-tion to why you were able to drive the boggart off without facing your fear and considering you past encounters with Voldemort, the Dementors had very little effect on you as well?”

He was interrupted from answering by a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing. Harry looked back at his head of house and tried to communicated that he really did not like being here and could he please rescue him. Lupin was smiling but to Harry it seemed very brittle much like one of his own fake smiles.

“Ah, Severus, Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”

Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.

“I was just showing Harry my Grindylow.”

“Fascinating, you should drink that directly, Lupin.”

“Yes, Yes, I will,” said Lupin.

“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued. “If you need more.”

“I should probably have some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”

“Not at all.”

There was a look in his eye Harry didn’t like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful. Not helping Harry in the slightest, not that he had really any hope that the snarky professor would, but it had been worth a try.

‘Damn. It was up to him then. How to ‘politely’ excuse himself?

Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.

“Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me. I have never been much of a po-tion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.”

He picked up the goblet and sniffed it.

“Pity sugar makes it useless. I’ve been feeling a bit off-colour. This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.”

Harry stood up, at the end of his tether, politely bowing to the surprised teacher at his abrupt de-parture, opened the door and left, making his way determinedly to the library and peace and quiet. His patience for being sociable now well and truly used up. He sneaked back to his dorm just as everyone was returning from Hogsmeade and placed a silencing and stay-out ward charm around his bed so not even Draco could not disturb him there. He even missed the usual celebrations that happen during the Halloween feast and the rituals the more traditional students held each year.

Chapter Text

Harry had just settled down reading his third book of the night on charms, when he felt his ward being ripped apart. And a seventh-year prefect towered over his bed brandishing his wand, sweat-ing slightly at the effort of getting through the barriers. Draco was standing beside him looking pale with a hugely pissed off look on his face.

“All students are to go to the Great hall by orders of the Head Master. Impressive wards by the way, but please refrain from placing them as in an emergency it is difficult to get to you. If Mr Malfoy had not alerted me you your seclusion you could have been over looked.”

Harry sighed irritability and gathered up his book and followed the still bad-tempered Draco and prefect to the great hall. The hall was a mass of students all looking like lost sheep. Pansy sidled up to the duo.

“The Gryffindor’s are saying that ‘Black’ has entered the castle and destroyed the painting to their common room in a fit of rage.”

Draco turned white at the news and his lips thinned as he turned to Harry ready to give him what for. Harry took a step backwards at the blonde’s expression. Just then a loud bang echoed about the hall. Professor Dumbledore lowered his wand as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle. I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts.”

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall.

“Oh, yes, you’ll be needing…”

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood them-selves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

“Sleep well.”

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened, loving the attention. All around them, people were asking one an-other the same question:

“How did he get in?”

They had all finally settled for the night with only a few scuffles with prefects as some of the old-er students tried to sneak into each-others sleeping bags and had to be separated, when Harry heard the door of the hall creak open again, and almost silent footsteps.

“Headmaster?”

It was Snape. Harry kept quite still, listening hard.

“The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”

“What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”

“All searched…”

“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?”

Harry raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear.

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore’s back was to him and Snape’s profile was visible, he looked angry. He noticed that both were standing closed to him so it was almost impossible for him not to here. Dumbledore was not even bothering to be subtle.

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?”

“I do, Severus--”

There was something like warning in his voice.

“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —”

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,”

His tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply.

“I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.

Harry glanced sideways at Draco who even in a mood had elected to sleep next to Harry, just in case, eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling. Harry’s breath stilled at the beauty of them.

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who’d listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry was not stupid in fact he could be called a genius. Snape’s lesson on were wolves had con-firmed his suspicions of exactly what their regular defence Professor was. Only something effected by the moon could be someone’s greatest fear and he had a feeling that Lupin was not quite normal from a feeling he got when he had been in his office. Harry didn’t bother to tell anyone for he rec-ognized the potion his Head of House had given the man, after a small bit of research on the matter.

He also considered that Snape might have been talking about Lupin being the traitor that had let Black in to the castle. The more he found out about this new defence teacher, the more he did not trust the man. He had to many secrets and Harry from past experience did not like people keeping secrets unless it was his own.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Draco’s rant at Harry had the respect of Slytherin for weeks after a fully blown yelling match about safety, responsibility and being an anti-social bustard. He had also written to his father about the incident and was waiting for a reply. He had finally forgiven Harry the day before the first Quidditch match of the season (Gryffindor against Hufflepuff) and was forcing the Raven to go along with him as he had not let him out of sight since that night. Harry had to lock the bathroom door as Draco had followed him in more than once while he was doing his business.

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.

“That could have been us playing today, if one of the team members had not fallen and broken his leg in three places last week, so was unable to train.”

The game passed uneventfully even though for Harry it was torture as Draco had confiscated his book and was forcing the other to actually pay attention to the game. Harry made a silent promise to himself never to make Draco angry to this extent again if he could help it. Draco was truly sadistic when he was in a mood.

Chapter Text

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The
students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.

Draco had elected to stay with Harry at Hogwart’s much to his secret happiness as Draco had fi-nally calmed down and they were back to their usual equilibrium. Harry had been called to the Headmasters office a few days before and been told due to the interests of safety the Minister had spoken to Lord Malfoy and told him that Harry would be safer at Hogwart’s rather than at the fami-ly mansion for Christmas. After all, if Sirius Black had managed to enter Hogwart’s, the Manor would be easy to get into.

To everyone’s delight except Harry’s, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term. Draco had given Harry specific instructions what not to do while he was in the village and had even threatened to place a tracking charm on him permanently if Harry so much as thought about disobeying him. Harry just nodded, amused at his friends caring nature, hidden though it was under his imperious speech as they relaxed on one of the common room’s so-fas, legs tangled together.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry watched Draco quietly at dinner. Something had happened in Hogsmeade to make the Blonde Slytherin unusually quiet and unwilling to talk. Harry did not like this quiet aspect of the boy. When He had asked what was wrong, Draco had just shaken his head and muttered a few non-sensical sentences, looking scared. Crabbe and Goyle also were also looking shell shocked as they had gone along with Draco.

In the end, Harry concluded Draco would tell him when he was ready. Another thing Harry did not like was that was the sly looks the Head Master was giving the Slytherin table and the smirks from the Gryffindor table from his three least favourite people. If they had done anything to his only friend, Harry would make sure that the fear of Sirius Black would pale in comparison to what he would do to the three.

That night when they were both ensconced in Harry’s bed, Draco clutched at Harry as if it were the last time, they would ever see each other, pressing his body as close to the other boy as possible pinning him to the bed.

“Dray, what is the matter. This is not like you?”

Draco shook his head and buried his face into Harry’s neck. Harry still puzzled gently stroked Dra-co’s back and nuzzled his ear until the other started to relax.

“Please tell me what happened, Dray?”

Draco shifted until Harry was underneath him. In other circumstances this position would have been extremely provocative, but the look on the Blonde’s face was anything but sexy.

Harry, promise me something. Never mind what I have to tell you. You won’t do anything stupid and Griffindorish.”

Harry nodded, starting to get annoyed at his friends perceived drama queen act.

“I promise, now tell me what happened.”

Draco sniffed, still looking uncertain. But began to talk;

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Draco shivered at the cold; silently cursing his two companions who seemed to be enjoying the weather. Crabbe and Goyle headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind pointing out places of interest. Draco hated it.

“Tell you what, shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?”

The other two were more than willing; the wind was fierce and his hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy war-locks up at the bar. Draco made a sign and held up three fingers to the Bar maid who nodded at him. It was a standing arrangement that the Slytherin’s always booked a private room at the inn when a Hogsmeade day came up for any who wished to use it.

The boy’s made their way to the back of the room and up the stairs but not before they saw the Griffindor trio enter shivering, Draco pushed the door open to the reserved room where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree decked in green and silver, which stood next to the fireplace. The busty bar-owner came five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

“Merry Christmas!”

Feeling the call of Nature, Draco made his way down stairs to the washroom. He was preparing to go back up the stairs when Professors McGonagall and Flitwick entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

“Ah, Madam Rosmerta, A private room please for my companions and myself.”

“Certainly, minister you can have the one on the left. The Slytherin’s have booked their usual room so you will not be disturbed by loud noises. Can I get your drinks order now?”

Draco returned to his room and settled down with his friends. He could hear what being said in the other room quite clearly, as he placed an eve’s-dropping charm in there before the teachers had entered the room. He was a Slytherin after all and information was power.

“A small gill water —”

“Mine,”

Professor McGonagall’s voice.

“Four pints of mulled mead —”

“Ta, Rosmerta,”

That was Hagrid.

“A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —”

“Mmmm!”

Professor Flitwick, judging by the voice

“So, you’ll be the red currant rum, Minister.”

“Thank you, Rosmerta, m’dear. Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won’t you? Come and join us…”

“Well, thank you very much, Minister. I’ll just nip down and tell my assistant to take over and grab myself a drink as well.”

Draco heard the glittering heels march away and back again.

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?”

“What else, m’dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?”

“I did hear a rumour. You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice? Scared all my customers away… It’s very bad for business, Minister.”

“Rosmerta, dear, I don’t like them any more than you do. Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are…We all know what Black’s capable of…”

Madam Rosmerta sounded thoughtful,

“Do you know, I still have trouble believing it. Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you’d told me then what he was going to become, I’d have said you’d had too much mead.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Rosmerta. The worst he did isn’t widely known.”

“I can’t believe that. What could possibly be worse?”

“Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.”

“Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?”

“Worse even than that, m’dear…”

Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble and Draco carefully turned up the spell to hear what was being said. Trembling at what was being said, Crabbe and Goyle were also listening in opened mouthed in shock at the tale being told.

“Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn’t an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.”

Flitwick spoke up squeakily,

“An immensely complex spell, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Se-cret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!”

“So, Black was the Potters’ Secret-Keeper?”

“Naturally, James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters’ Secret-Keeper himself.”

“He suspected Black?”

“He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,” said Professor McGonagall darkly. “Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.”

“But James Potter insisted on using Black?”

“He did, and then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —”

Madam Rosmerta was breathing heavily.

“Black betrayed them. Then you caught him in the act?”

“It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters’ friends. Mad-dened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper, he went af-ter Black himself.”

Professor McGonagall’s voice spoke up sounding clogged,

“Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?”

“There, now, Minerva. Pettigrew died a hero’s death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, ‘Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?’ And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…”

Draco sobbed quietly, unable to take it any more, turned the spell off. He had to tell Harry, but how? He looked in despair at his two oldest friends who looked back at him in misery. There is no way even Harry with his legendary disinterest would take this news calmly.

They did not notice a certain couple was watching them from a table in the common area in the pub and were smirking evilly. Hermione had to really admire the Head masters plan, placing a subtle compulsion on the Minister, inviting the other teachers for a drink and a chat knowing there would be at least one Slytherin could not help listening in and reporting all that was said back to Harry. It was in their slimy nature after all.

Their job was to see who had taken the bait and report it back to the Head Master. In the headmaster’s opinion the plan could not gone better if the gods had planned it themselves. With Malfoy over hearing it was a sure-fire guarantee that Harry would hear about Sirius Black and his crimes before bed tonight. He wondered how Potter would react to this information. Dumbledore really did not want the Potter and Black to meet on amicable terms and he wanted Potter to kill or at least capture Black before any questions were asked.

Chapter Text

“Harry?”

Harry looked at the teenage in his arms and sighed gently. It was admittedly a lot to take in and Harry could well understand intellectually Draco’s shock and fear. If he had been normal Harry was sure that he would have had all the reactions Draco feared he would have, but there was noth-ing, no emotion about his father’s best-friend’s betrayal. The Dursley’s had really done a number on his emotional development. He had gotten better at faking his emotions, but his feelings for an-yone besides the boy in his arms was absent.

“Thank you for telling me Dray. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid. You are the only one who could ever make me do something stupid. At least we know why Sirius Black is after me and we can take precautions.

He tightened his arms around the other and dropped a quick kiss on the others forehead. Draco saw a definite softness in the Raven’s icy gaze that was only for him and him alone. Draco was still terrified that Black would find a way to his Raven, but the fear lessened as he listened to Harry’s voice reassuring him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

On Christmas morning, Harry was woken by Draco bouncing on his stomach. He groaned and pulled the hyperactive teen down in to a smoothing hug and prepared to go back to sleep. Draco was having none of it. He wriggled against the body below him causing an interesting reaction that Harry now had come to realise was now going to be a normal thing when Draco wriggled against him.

“Oy! Presents!”

Harry reached for his glasses and put them on, squinting through the semi-darkness to the foot of his bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Draco was already ripping the paper off his own presents.

“Another spider silk cloak from Mum… green and silver again… see if you’ve got one.”

Harry hadn’t. Mrs Malfoy had sent him a green tunic with a sliver neck line in the depiction of a snake, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle. Lord Malfoy had sent him an enamelled cloak fastener with the Potter and Black crest on it. As he moved all these things aside, he saw a long, thin package lying underneath. As well as the usual knickknacks from Draco’s friends.

“What’s that?”.

“Dunno…”

Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread. Draco dropped his new hair products from Pansy and jumped off his bed for a closer look.

“I don’t believe it.”

It was a Firebolt, its handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in mid-air, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, stream-lined birch twigs that made up the tail.

“Who sent it to you?”

“Look and see if there’s a card,”

Draco ripped apart the Firebolt’s wrappings, then looked at Harry with suspicion and jealousy.

“Nothing, except a printed card that says; ‘To Harry Potter.’! Who’d spend that much on you, be-sides me?”

“Well. I’m betting it wasn’t the Dursleys. Other than that, I have no idea? You know I hate flying, and everyone who knows me knows that too. You know I don’t like expensive presents I have no need for them.”

Draco looked thoughtful, Harry’s logic disappearing his jealousy and a seed of worry replacing it.

“It could be someone trying to gain your favour or a trap. Perhaps we should take it to Uncle Seve-rus. He can check to see if there are any spells that should not be on it.”

Harry shrugged uninterestedly and placed the Firebolt down. Draco’s eyes followed it hungerly. Harry’s mouth twitched up at the possessive look in his companion’s eyes. He knew that if he were to claim the broom and it was clean from spells Draco would demand to be the first on it and show off outrageously at their next Quidditch match.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

At lunchtime they went up to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather mouldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sul-len-faced Slytherin fifth year.

“Merry Christmas! As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables… Sit down, sit down!”

Harry and Draco sat down side by side at the end of the table.

“Crackers!”

Dumbledore enthusiastically, offered the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture. Harry had to admire the old man; he was a fantastic actor. But neither he nor Draco was fooled for a seconded by the act and were constantly on guard around the man.

Snape’s mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wiz-ard’s hat at once.

“Dig in!”

As Harry was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green se-quined dress in honour of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

“Sybil, this is a pleasant surprise!”

“I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…”

“Certainly, certainly, let me draw you up a chair —”

And he did indeed draw a chair in mid-air with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds be-fore falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.

“I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be unluckier! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die! There is also the one who has been touched by the Grimm sitting at the table. I have done my best to warn him all year but he never came to my tower for advice about his terrible future. This could be fatal to the poor boy.”

Every-bodies eyes rested on Harry sitting there ignoring the old bat. His eyes frosted at her speech as he muttered to Draco.

“Best decision I made not taking her class if that’s her attitude.”

Draco snickered as Professor McGonagall gestured impatiently.

“We’ll risk it, Sybil. Do sit down, the turkey’s getting stone cold.”

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

“Tripe, Sybil?”

Draco and Harry mainly kept conversation to themselves until the end of dinner were Draco in-dicated he was going to talk to the Head of House about the broom. Harry nodded and walked down to the common room by himself to retrieve the article in question.

Chapter Text

Though Professor Snape was Head of Slytherin House, Harry had only seen him in the common room only in emergencies, or to make a very grave announcement. Professor Snape beadily looked over, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt.

“So that’s it, is it? Mr Malfoy, has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter. May I?””

He didn’t wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of his hands. He examined it care-fully from handle to twig-ends.

“Hmm. And there was no signature, Potter? Nothing but your name? No message of any kind?”

“No.”

“I see…Well, I’m afraid I will have to take this, Potter. It will need to be checked for jinxes. Of course, I’m no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down —”

“Strip it down?!!!!!”

Draco almost shrieked and looked at his god father as if he were mad.

“Don’t shout Draco, you were the one who brought this to my attention after all. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks. You will have it back, if we are sure it is jinx-free.”

Draco visibly made himself calm down and gave his Uncle an apologetic look. The older man’s eyes softened and he nodded slightly, understanding who would really be getting the broom and silently gloating at his god-sons good fortune at having a chance at such a fine broom, if it were safe.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, Draco was looking like a kicked puppy. He was now asking Professor Snape for news of the Firebolt after every potions lesson, Flint (Captain of the Slytherin team) standing hopefully at his shoulder.

“No, Malfoy, you can’t have it back yet,”

Professor Snape told him the twelfth time this happened, before he’d even opened his mouth.

“We’ve checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we’ve finished checking it. Now, please stop badger-ing me.”

A few days before the match it finally happened. Professor Snape glided into the library and placed a long bundle on the table,

“Potter, I am happy to return this item to your possession, as it is yours, despite my god-son laying claim to it. It was hex, curse and ill intent free and it is ready to be ridden. Please return to the common room post-haste for if those two Slytherin’s come bugging me again about this blasted broom I will be morally obliged to hex them and then we would have no chance of winning the championship cup.”

Both Professor’s and student’s lips twisted slightly at the imagination of Draco’s reaction when he was presented with the coveted broom. Both of them unhurriedly but with deliberation headed to-wards the dungeon at a respectable pace.

Draco’s jaw dropped and he jumped from his reclined position on Harry’s bed as he saw both people come into the dorm. Harry held out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

“I can have it back? Seriously?”

“Seriously. I daresay you’ll need to get the feel of it before Saturday’s match, won’t you? And Draco—do try and win, won’t you? Or we’ll be out of the running for the first time eight years, as Professor McGonagall was kind enough to remind me only last night…”

Speechless, Draco carried the Firebolt back toward the common room. As he turned a corner, he saw Flint dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear.

“He gave it to you? Excellent! Can I have a go on it tomorrow?”

Both Harry and Professor Snape snorted in mock derision. It seemed even the best masks of Pure- bred culture crumbled under the excitement of a prize top of the range broom when Quid-ditch nuts were involved. There was a burst of loud noise from the common room and Harry rolled his eyes as Snape departed to resume what-ever he had planned. Harry curled up on his bed ignor-ing the sounds of celebration from his house mates and pulled out a book on astronomy.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next morning Harry and a sleepy, but happy Draco made their usual way to breakfast. Draco had been late back to the Dorm last night and had immediately wrapped himself around Harry’s sleeping form and had fallen asleep, a genuine smile on his face.

Not expecting any drama that morning Harry fell into his usual routine not noticing anything strange until Draco nudged him and subtly pointed to the Gryffindor table.

“Pansy says that the trio is now a duo. Apparently, the Mud-blood and the Blood-traitor had a huge row last night because her cat ate his rat or something. Remember the one he took to be looked at in the shop.”

Harry studied the table and saw Weasley and his sister were seated as far away from Granger as possible and were sending the girl hateful looks, as the other seemed to ignore the two. But her face was pale and her lips were drawn. She reminded Harry of his Aunt Petunia when she was in a mood, what was the term? Bracket faced?

The younger Weasley looked up and saw Harry looking her way and she blushed, fluttering her eye lashes at him provocatively. Harry quickly turned his head away not wanting to lose his appe-tite as Draco growled angerly under his breath and shooting the girl a killer glare. The girl had no morals at all and was constantly trying to flirt with Harry. Harry mainly ignored her but it riled up Draco to think that a worthless slut thought she had a glimmer of a chance with what was his.

Chapter Text

They walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Cho Chang, was the only girl on their team. She was shorter than Draco by about a head, and Harry couldn’t help noticing, she was send-ing nasty looks at Draco. She glared at Draco as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and he felt a slight lurch in the region of his stomach that he didn’t think had anything to do with nerves.

“Flint, Davies, shake hands,”

Flint shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain both trying their best to break each other’s hands.

“Mount your brooms… on my whistle… three — two — one —”

Harry tuned out after watching Draco fly on his new broom as if he were born to it. It was not long before Draco had spotted the snitch and was flying rings around the Ravenclaw seeker and beaters who were looking murderous and frazzled as Draco dived catching the golden orb in a double roll before souring up above the pitch holding aloft his prize.

The stadium went crazy at Draco’s superb flying and the Slytherin’s lifted their hero up on their shoulders in a victory dance. Draco looked over the tops of the crowd trying to spot Harry. He sighed slightly as he saw his companion nose deep in a book. Draco could have bet any amount of money there was a silencing charm around him to block out the annoying noise. He really hoped Harry would never change. His eyes were just turning away when he saw Harry looking over his book directly at him and gave a slight nod in approval which Draco cherished more than the revel-ry of the whole house.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

On the edge of the forest a black shape whined in puzzlement,

‘Why was his god-sons broom being used in a game for Slytherin? Not only that, why was baby Malfoy on it and not Harry, it did not make sense. Harry was supposed to be in Gryffindor and be a flying fanatic just as James and he had planned while watching little Harry dreaming in his cot.
He would get it all sorted out after he gave Pettigrew his just desserts.

Sirius Black slipped back in to the forbidden forest and down in to Hogsmeade to find some food from the bins left out for the next morning. He needed energy for his next attempt to kill that mur-derous little rat tonight.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Pansy, Harry had to admit had true talent at getting information. She had gotten the latest news just 3.2 minutes after it had happened. Harry suspected house elves, but Pansy never gave away her sources. She barged in to their dorm, rousing them and alerted them that Sirius Black had once again infiltrated the castle and nearly assassinated Ron Weasley. He had missed, much to Draco’s disappointment and had escaped again with-out a trace. More was heard over breakfast the next morning.

Neville Longbottom was in total disgrace for losing his common rooms passwords that he had written on a piece of paper. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Neville was forced (according to Pansy) to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black’s break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once — Ron had got one from his mother the year before.

“Run for it, Neville,”

Ron advised, pretending to look sympathetic. Inside he was smirking as now he had power, real power over another student and he could not have asked for better candidate than the Heir of Longbottom.

Neville didn’t need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Neville’s grandmother’s voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry really wished he had not been banned from Hogsmeade it probably would have been better for his sanity. Why did professors like to pick on him when the rest of the school was out in the vil-lage? He stood in Professor’s Snape’s office with the Professor behind his desk looking at him with a slight sneer.

Harry didn’t say anything. Snape’s thin mouth curled into a horrible smile.

“So!! Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary peo-ple worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences.”

Harry stayed silent, puzzled.

“How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,”

Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting.

“He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers… The resemblance between you is uncanny.”

“I beg your pardon? I am unsure what exactly you are accusing me of. How could I emulate someone whom I have no knowledge about as he was killed when I was less than a year old?”

“Blood will out, Mr Potter. Don’t lie Potter, I have been lenient with you due to your unfortunate up- bringing and your relationship with my god son, but please don’t lie to me. Your father didn’t set much store by rules either,”

Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice and hate.

“Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen —”

Harry stared unblinkingly at the professor and walked towards the office door. He didn’t care that Snape’s face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously.

“Where do you think you are going, Mr Potter?”

“Until you start talking to me sensibly and rationally, I do not see any point of this conversation. You have an obvious dislike for me and to be honest I could not care in the slightest about it, so I ignored it. But, to call me here and go on about something I have no idea about is irrational. So, I will leave until you have come to your senses.”

“What did you say to me, Potter?”

Snape’s sallow skin had gone the colour of sour milk and took a visible breath to calm down,

“Mr. Longbottom has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and cocked his head in silent question.

“He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley — apparently alone.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“Mr. Longbottom states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit Mr Weasley in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?”

Harry’s face blanked but his mind was working fast trying to understand what the Professor was insinuating.

“I don’t know, Professor.”

Snape’s eyes were boring into Harry’s. It was exactly like trying to stare down a Hippogriff. Harry didn’t even bother to blink.

“Mr. Longbottom and Mr Weasley then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?”

“No,”

“It was your head, Potter. Floating in mid-air and don’t think I don’t know about your damned fathers’ invisibility cloak. I saw him use it often enough to get him and his friends out of trouble.”

There was a long silence.

“Maybe he’d better go to Madam Pomphrey. If he’s seeing things like —”

“What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter? Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade.”

“I know that. It sounds like they were having hallucin —”

“Longbottom is not having hallucinations. If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you. That boy is too stupid and too scared of me to lie to my face. What reason could he have to possibly lie? If it were just Mr Weasley, I would have thought he was lying, but Mr. Longbottom for all his numerous faults is honest and has no reason to lie.”

“I’ve been up in Library.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“Ask Madam Pince if you don’t believe me.”

Snape’s thin mouth curled into a horrible smile.

“Oh. I will Mr Potter and I will be reporting this to your guardian. This will prove what I have been saying about you being like your father and I would rather see you dead then any harm come to Draco, because of your arrogance and recklessness. Like your dear father and his friends did to me when his best friend sent me in to a den of a were wolf. Bet no one told you, did they Potter? I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter. I bet Lupin has been giving you all kinds of stories about his old friends.”

A terrible grin twisting his face.

“Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you — your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn’t got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts.”

Snape’s uneven, yellowish teeth were bared and he rubbed his left arm subconsciously.

“That stupidity cost me everything. I will not let you corrupt Draco in the same way. For your stupidity Potter, detention with me for the rest of the term. I will be removing Draco from you Dormitory and I will personally make sure the only interaction with him will be when you two are in class. Have I made my self, clear?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. A swirl of something heated up this chest. Draco had been brought in to the conversation again. That was a bad idea. Years of practice stopped Harry from doing anything rash. He needed to get out of the office.

“Talk to Madam Pince. She will confirm where I was. If you will excuse me, I believe all future conversations will be handled with the presence of my guardian. Congratulations, you have just confirmed that all adults are the same. Have a good day Professor.”

Chapter Text

The next teacher to accost him was Professor Lupin who looked very disappointed,

“Professor, I —”

“I don’t want to hear explanations. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near a person, would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to re-pay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.”

He walked away, leaving Harry feeling nothing. A coldness he had known all his life settling over his heart once again. He had not realised it had been lifting until it settled back again. Slowly, he climbed the marble staircase. Humans they were all the same, show any weakness and they will betray you at the first hint of something they want to believe. He would sort out his emotions later, but for now he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Harry placed his palm on a wall and opened his connection to Hogwart’s. Images flashed behind his eyes as his consciousness was drawn into communication with the castle. He envisaged the form of his victims and sent a question along the link. An image came back and Harry silently thanked the edifies for the information.

A passage way opened in front of him and he stalked down it the tip of his wand glowing slight to illuminate the way. He came out on the quidditch pitch and saw Longbottom huddled under the Gryffindor stadium. Harry quietly stalked up behind the huddled figure and quietly shot a leg lock-ing charm at the boy. The other squeaked in terror and tried to crawl away,

“Longbottom, you have some explaining to do.”

The Gryffindor turned white and began to shake.

“Please, please don’t hurt me it was not my fault. Ron made me do it. He called in my Wizard debt as I almost got him killed, he said I owed him a favour. Hermione said ‘if you were seen in Hogsmeade everyone would be angry at you and you would lose your protection and Dumbledore could finally put you in to Gryffindor where you should have gone.”

Harry’s eyebrow rose slightly,

“I thought those two were not on speaking terms after Granger’s cat ate Weasley’s rat?”

Longbottom shook his head dismally,

“They found it again. Hagrid invited them for tea and they found Scabbers hiding in a teapot in his hut. They had also been called to the Headmasters office and Ron came back bragging that soon he would be getting an owl. I think that Professor Dumbledore promised him one if they made up. Ron has not let the rat out of his sight since then.”

“I see, what else did Granger or Weasley say?”

“He said, he could not do it himself as no one would believe him, but they would believe me. Please just leave I will go to a teacher and tell the truth, just don’t hurt me.”

Harry sneered at the cowardly Lion but released him,

“You can also tell your Grandmother, Heir Longbottom, why the alliance between the Potter and Longbottom houses has been severed after nearly three centuries.”

Harry’s eyes bored in to the weak-willed boy. An aura of power enveloped the Raven,

“If you ever go against me again Longbottom, I will make you pay more than you had ever dreamed. Now this is what you are going to do in repentance. Get that snivelling rat of an accom-plice out here, he is hiding in your common room. I want to have a talk with him as well.”

Longbottom gulped and nodded, shaking in fear.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Draco had returned from Hogsmeade and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. He moaned in frustration as a sixth sense told him something bad had happened again. He dropped his purchases’ off in the dorm and made his way to this god-father’s rooms to find out the bad news. He knocked on the door and was granted entrance. He found his god-father sitting by his fire place with a bottle of honey whiskey on the table next to him looking blank.

“Uncle, what happened?”

His Uncle turned towards him, his eyes at first were blank but years of studying his uncle Draco noticed, rage and guilt dwelt in their depths.

“Uncle….?”

Snape let out a quiet breath and gesture Draco to sit,

“Before I tell you Dragon, please remember that I will do all in my power to protect you. You are as close to me as the child I will never have. Since Potter has come in to your life you have been and will be in more danger than you can ever imagine. All I have done is try and protect you from that. Sirius Black IS after Potter he will not hesitate to kill you to if you get in his way. It is only a matter of time before he figures Potter is in Slytherin and not in Gryffindor. In my fear I might have made a small miscalculation. Longbottom and Weasley came to me in the staffroom earlier today and claimed that they had seen Potter in Hogsmeade in front of some other teachers as well.”

Draco’s sixth sense was pounding now, making the hairs on his arms stand up. He stood up and stalked over to his Uncle’s seat towering over the man.

“What did you do?!!!”

Severus would have gulped if he were not so Slytherin. Draco looked terrifying.

“I called him in to my office and accused him of being like his father and breaking the rules. I might have threatened him and said I rather him dead. He told me their story was not true, but I didn’t believe him. I check after to see if he was telling the truth and it turned out to be true. He said one last thing before he left that I cannot get out of my head; ‘Congratulations, you have just confirmed that all adults are the same.’ I have ruined any chance of that boy trusting any one ever again or making friends even. Draco, that boy is horribly broken and there is no knowing what he will do when he is older. I could not bear to see a rise of another Dark lord.”

Draco studied his god-father dispassionately. The Slytherin side could see where his uncle was coming from. He was not blind to Harry’s faults and had slowly been working on them to try and bring his future mate back to a semblance of normal behaviour. One the other hand, all his hard work and careful manipulation had turned to dust in just one afternoon. His still locked creature side screamed in frustration and fury at his uncle’s stupidity. Draco took a deep breath trying to get his priorities in order and not rip his uncle a new one.

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. Probably with Professor Lupin, after all Lupin is one of his parent’s closest friends and I am sure he has wasted no time in latching on to Potter and trying to turn him in to a noble Gryffindor like his parents.”

Draco snorted,

‘Harry, a noble Gryffindor. If that were true then Draco would willingly resort himself in to Hufflepuff.’

“Well don’t just sit there, Uncle. Let’s go and find him and try and sort out the damage that you have made. I seriously doubt that Harry would take it, but you had better have a damned good apology ready for him when we do find him.”

Chapter Text

The next teacher to accost him was Professor Lupin who looked very disappointed,

“Professor, I —”

“I don’t want to hear explanations. I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near a person, would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to re-pay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks.”

He walked away, leaving Harry feeling nothing. A coldness he had known all his life settling over his heart once again. He had not realised it had been lifting until it settled back again. Slowly, he climbed the marble staircase. Humans they were all the same, show any weakness and they will betray you at the first hint of something they want to believe. He would sort out his emotions later, but for now he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Harry placed his palm on a wall and opened his connection to Hogwart’s. Images flashed behind his eyes as his consciousness was drawn into communication with the castle. He envisaged the form of his victims and sent a question along the link. An image came back and Harry silently thanked the edifies for the information.

A passage way opened in front of him and he stalked down it the tip of his wand glowing slight to illuminate the way. He came out on the quidditch pitch and saw Longbottom huddled under the Gryffindor stadium. Harry quietly stalked up behind the huddled figure and quietly shot a leg lock-ing charm at the boy. The other squeaked in terror and tried to crawl away,

“Longbottom, you have some explaining to do.”

The Gryffindor turned white and began to shake.

“Please, please don’t hurt me it was not my fault. Ron made me do it. He called in my Wizard debt as I almost got him killed, he said I owed him a favour. Hermione said ‘if you were seen in Hogsmeade everyone would be angry at you and you would lose your protection and Dumbledore could finally put you in to Gryffindor where you should have gone.”

Harry’s eyebrow rose slightly,

“I thought those two were not on speaking terms after Granger’s cat ate Weasley’s rat?”

Longbottom shook his head dismally,

“They found it again. Hagrid invited them for tea and they found Scabbers hiding in a teapot in his hut. They had also been called to the Headmasters office and Ron came back bragging that soon he would be getting an owl. I think that Professor Dumbledore promised him one if they made up. Ron has not let the rat out of his sight since then.”

“I see, what else did Granger or Weasley say?”

“He said, he could not do it himself as no one would believe him, but they would believe me. Please just leave I will go to a teacher and tell the truth, just don’t hurt me.”

Harry sneered at the cowardly Lion but released him,

“You can also tell your Grandmother, Heir Longbottom, why the alliance between the Potter and Longbottom houses has been severed after nearly three centuries.”

Harry’s eyes bored in to the weak-willed boy. An aura of power enveloped the Raven,

“If you ever go against me again Longbottom, I will make you pay more than you had ever dreamed. Now this is what you are going to do in repentance. Get that snivelling rat of an accom-plice out here, he is hiding in your common room. I want to have a talk with him as well.”

Longbottom gulped and nodded, shaking in fear.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Draco had returned from Hogsmeade and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. He moaned in frustration as a sixth sense told him something bad had happened again. He dropped his purchases’ off in the dorm and made his way to this god-father’s rooms to find out the bad news. He knocked on the door and was granted entrance. He found his god-father sitting by his fire place with a bottle of honey whiskey on the table next to him looking blank.

“Uncle, what happened?”

His Uncle turned towards him, his eyes at first were blank but years of studying his uncle Draco noticed, rage and guilt dwelt in their depths.

“Uncle….?”

Snape let out a quiet breath and gesture Draco to sit,

“Before I tell you Dragon, please remember that I will do all in my power to protect you. You are as close to me as the child I will never have. Since Potter has come in to your life you have been and will be in more danger than you can ever imagine. All I have done is try and protect you from that. Sirius Black IS after Potter he will not hesitate to kill you to if you get in his way. It is only a matter of time before he figures Potter is in Slytherin and not in Gryffindor. In my fear I might have made a small miscalculation. Longbottom and Weasley came to me in the staffroom earlier today and claimed that they had seen Potter in Hogsmeade in front of some other teachers as well.”

Draco’s sixth sense was pounding now, making the hairs on his arms stand up. He stood up and stalked over to his Uncle’s seat towering over the man.

“What did you do?!!!”

Severus would have gulped if he were not so Slytherin. Draco looked terrifying.

“I called him in to my office and accused him of being like his father and breaking the rules. I might have threatened him and said I rather him dead. He told me their story was not true, but I didn’t believe him. I check after to see if he was telling the truth and it turned out to be true. He said one last thing before he left that I cannot get out of my head; ‘Congratulations, you have just confirmed that all adults are the same.’ I have ruined any chance of that boy trusting any one ever again or making friends even. Draco, that boy is horribly broken and there is no knowing what he will do when he is older. I could not bear to see a rise of another Dark lord.”

Draco studied his god-father dispassionately. The Slytherin side could see where his uncle was coming from. He was not blind to Harry’s faults and had slowly been working on them to try and bring his future mate back to a semblance of normal behaviour. One the other hand, all his hard work and careful manipulation had turned to dust in just one afternoon. His still locked creature side screamed in frustration and fury at his uncle’s stupidity. Draco took a deep breath trying to get his priorities in order and not rip his uncle a new one.

“Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. Probably with Professor Lupin, after all Lupin is one of his parent’s closest friends and I am sure he has wasted no time in latching on to Potter and trying to turn him in to a noble Gryffindor like his parents.”

Draco snorted,

‘Harry, a noble Gryffindor. If that were true then Draco would willingly resort himself in to Hufflepuff.’

“Well don’t just sit there, Uncle. Let’s go and find him and try and sort out the damage that you have made. I seriously doubt that Harry would take it, but you had better have a damned good apology ready for him when we do find him.”

Chapter Text

Lupin was grading paperwork in his office when suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at his chamber door. he heard a taping on his chamber door,

"'Tis some visitor,"

He muttered,

"tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more."

So that now, to still the beating of his heart, he stood repeating,

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir, or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was grading, and so gently you came rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-
here He opened wide the door; - Draco and Snape were there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no to-ken, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,

"Severus?"

This I whispered, and a figure snarled back these words,

"Where is Potter?!"

Merely this, and nothing more. Lupin blinked,

‘Merlin, he really had to stop reading Poe, it was effecting his everyday life.’ The question finally penetrated his head,

“I have no idea where he is? I have not seen him since before I berated him for sneaking off to Hogsmeade and risking his life.”

Snape winced as Draco growled deep in his throat.

“Potter was innocent. I checked; he was in the library the whole time.”

Draco was beginning to hate this school and the incompetent teachers that ran the place. Professor Lupin’s face went pale and he looked about to faint, but he seemed to pull himself together but the shock on his face was plain to see. He gestured the professor and student in to his office and rum-maged through his paper work.

“I have something to help locate Harry. I confiscated it from the Weasley twins. It is a map of the school that The Marauders made when they were here. I was afraid that Sirius would get his hands on it. It is linked to the wards so it can also tell us the location of any one in the school.”

Draco saw his Uncle twitch violently at the word ‘Marauders’ but did not question him. There were more important things to worry about at the moment. Lupin muttered a few words over a rat-ty piece of parchment and Draco saw a map etched in ink spread out over it.

All three scanned the document trying to find Harry’s name. Draco found it first by the quidditch pitch with the name, R. Weasley also close to the dot with Harry’s name. Another name was there as well but it was covered by the other two names, he could just make out a Pete…grew. Suddenly Snape hissed a quick in drawn breath in pointed at the map the name Sirius Black was quickly making its way over the school grounds and was on a convergence course with the two boys.

The two teachers bolted. Draco right behind them,

“Draco, stay in the office!!!! You are not following us!!!”

“Like hell I will, that is my future mate out there and you both have screwed him over enough. I am not letting either of you with in ten meters of him without my say so. Besides Harry can take care of himself, he is the strongest in our year.”

The three picked up speed as they hit the entrance doors and out into the school grounds.

“Head for the Whomping Willow, that is where they will be headed. There is a secret passage way to the Shrieking Shack under it.”

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry curled up under the stadium and waited for Longbottom to do his part. He was to report to Ron that Harry was alone and crying miserably. Ron would predictably jump at the chance to see Harry at his weakest. Harry smiled evilly; He had not placed himself in Slytherin for nothing.

It was not long until the red head came in to view. Harry tensed in anticipation, but Ron suddenly stopped and seemed to be struggling with something

“Scabbers, keep still,”

Ron clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket.

“What’s the matter with you, You, stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!”

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron’s grip.

“What’s the matter with you, you stupid rat?”

But Harry had just seen — stinking toward them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks, Grangers cat looked positively evil. Whether he could see them or was following the sound of Scabbers’s squeaks, Harry couldn’t tell. Ron realised he was losing the plot and tried to put on a smug look.

“Hello Potter, finally seen the error of your ways. All alone outside. No friends to help you. All be-cause you were sorted in to Slytherin? I told you being friends with slimy snakes was a bad idea.”

But the cat was getting nearer — Harry watch it out of the corner of his eye. Ron struggled briefly with the rat, who was ruining his speech.

“Scabbers — NO!”

Too late — the rat had slipped between Ron’s clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Ron could stop him. Ron swore and bolted after him. Harry cursed silently as his prey escaped. He drew his wand and started to follow his fleeing victim, following the other boy’s shouts.

“Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —”

There was a loud thud.

“Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —”

Harry stalked over to Ron and stop right in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in his pocket; he had both hands held tight over the quivering lump. He looked up at Harry’s cold glowing eyes and whimpered in fear. There something inhuman in Harry’s eyes, they promised pain and death.

“please don’t…have mercy, it was only a prank.”

Harry lips turned down and his face twisted in to something horrifying,

“Mercy? There is only one person who could ask me that and do you know who that is? The one person in this entire world who I care about. The only person who made me stay in this world and not just take my money and leave. Thanks to your actions and lies, that person is now forbidden to me. I have lived in hell and so shall you for taking the only thing I treasure from me.”

He raised his wand, magic cracked around him preparing to strike. But before any spells could be cast, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws… Something was bounding toward them, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.
Harry pointed his wand, but too late — the dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit him on the chest; he keeled over backward in a whirl of hair; he felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth —

But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off him. Dazed, feeling as though his ribs were broken, Harry tried to stand up; he could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack. Ron was on his feet. As the dog sprang back toward them and Ron tried to pushed Harry in front of him, too late; the dog’s jaws fastened instead around Ron’s outstretched arm. Harry lunged forward, he seized a handful of the brute’s hair, Ron was his prey, but it was dragging Ron away as easily as though he were a rag doll, dragging Harry with them.

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harry so hard across the face he was knocked off his feet again. Harry groped for his wand, blinking blood out of his eyes, moving backwards from what ever hit him.

“Lumos!”

Chapter Text

The wand-light showed him the trunk of a thick tree; they had been dragged into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop him going near, and there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ron backward into a large gap in the roots — Ron was fighting furiously, but his head and torso were slipping out of sight —

Harry screamed in fury at losing his prey. All he could see now was one of Ron’s legs, which he had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling him farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot and a shrill scream, and a moment later, his foot vanished from sight.

“HARRY!!!!! STOP!!!! DON’T DO IT.”

A body collided with Harry’s knocking him to the ground. Harry struggled for a few second before he realised who it was.

“Dray?”

The other did not reply just wrapped his arms around him more securely, pinning him farther. Twin sounds of gasping breath made him look up. He snarled as he saw his two least favourite Profes-sor’s standing over them gasping for breath. He struggled again trying to reach for his wand, but Draco had him securely pinned.

“Dray, let me go.”

“No, I am never letting go. You are mine. Nothing and no one will ever force us apart. I will fight for you every day of my life if any one tried.”

Harry relaxed slightly no longer straining to get to his wand in order to protect them from the pro-fessor’s. A cough signalled that the Professor’s had recovered their breaths,

“Potter, there will be a full apology later from my colleague and I for our assumptions and behav-iour earlier today, but at this moment there is a more pressing matter to attend to. Where is Sirius Black and Mr Weasley?”

Harry bared his teeth looking hatefully at his head of house. Before pointing to the gap in the wil-low. Professor Lupin was already pointing his wand to a point near the roots.

“Stupefy!!!”

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook. Both teachers quickly ducked under the still branches and in to the hole. Draco and Harry hesitated for a second and followed the two teachers their wands out in front of them.

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots. Harry went first, he crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Professor Lupin was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry’s wand. He glanced back at the boys but quickly moved forward not alerting his fellow teacher to their stalkers. Draco seemed to only now be having second thoughts.

“Where does this tunnel come out?”
Both boys moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, the teacher were having a more difficult time. Twice Lupin swore softly as he banged his head on the low ceiling. Shape hissing though his teeth as the other blundered into his back as well. On and on went the passage; All Harry could think of was Ron and what the enormous dog might be doing to him and hoping he arrived before the final moments so he could witness that little pricks final end.

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and the back of Lupin was gone from their sight. Ahead Harry could see a patch of dim light through a small opening. He and Dra-co paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.
It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.

Harry glanced at Draco, who looked very frightened but nodded and muttered.

“Father will kill us when he hears about this. We are Slytherin not bloody Griffindor rushing in to dangerous situations like this.”

Harry put his finger on his friend’s lips to quieten him, then pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Draco suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm again. His wide eyes were traveling around the boarded win-dows.

“Harry…. I think we’re in the Shrieking Shack.”

Harry looked around. His eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

“Ghosts didn’t do that.”

At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. There was a loud bang and a what sounded like several spells being set off.

“Expelliarmus!!!”

“Stupefy!!!!”

“Incararus!!!!!!”

“Silencio!!!”

“Petrify!!!!”

Then silence.
Draco’s grip on Harry’s arm was so tight he was losing feeling in his fingers. He raised his eye-brows at him; He nodded again and let go. Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs and the marks of the profes-sor’s feet.

They reached the dark landing. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod. Wand held tightly before him, Harry slid the door wide open and peeked inside.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron with what looked like an incumbent figure next to him dressed in black. Ron moan in pain and Harry suddenly felt a lot better. He was not too late.

“Potter, it’s a trap, I don’t want to die —help me.”

“What —”

“He’s the dog… he’s an Animagus.”

Ron was staring over Harry’s shoulder. Harry wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them. A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black pointing Ron’s wand at them.

“Expelliarmus!”

A shield sprang up deflecting the spell from Sirius. Harry twirled his wand and stepped in front of Draco’s shield ready to attack as Draco defended. Just then another shape moved from the shadows.

“Expelliarmus!”

Harry’s and Draco’s wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Lupin stepped forward to catch them and blocking their only means of exit. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry. Both boys back away from the two men who seemed to be in partnership. Harry could feel Draco shaking but his face was firmly arranged in a pure blood mask.

“Harry, Draco, please keep calm there is nothing to worry about. There has been a huge mistake.”

Sirius Black finally opened his mouth spoke his voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it.

“Loyalty to a stinking Slytherin, your father would have been so disappointed. The stories I could tell you what your father and I did to the dirty scum just ask Snivel’s over there tied up.”

Lupin suddenly look most uncomfortable and made to interrupt in a very tense voice.

“Where is he, Sirius?”

Harry looked quickly at Lupin. He didn’t understand what Lupin meant. Who was Lupin talking about? He turned to look at Black again. Black’s face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. Mystified, Harry glanced around at Draco, who looked bewildered. Harry twitched his fingers gesturing subtly towards the bed and Professor Snape tied up form.

Chapter Text

“But then…”

Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind,

“… why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless….”

Lupin’s eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see,

“— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?”

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin’s face, Black nodded. Both of the men seemed to have forgotten both the boys as they stared at each other. Harry slowly moved towards the bed and to the rope bound unconscious teacher. Draco slowly moved next to him.

Ron made a valiant whimper and a sharp smell filled the air making the others in the room wrinkle their noses in disgust. Lupin moved his wand towards the red head concerned, but Ron gasped,

“Hermione told me what you were you. Get away from me, werewolf!”

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort,

“How long have you known?”

“Ages. Since we did Professor Snape’s essay…Hermione told me then, but Professor Dumble-dore ordered us to keep it quiet when we told him about you. Why are you after me? Look, Potter is right there, kill him quickly just let me go and I won’t say a word. Please Professor let me go.”

Both Harry and Draco looked murderously at the horrible little bastard on the bed. Harry’s hands twitched wanting to hit the ginger coward.

Lupin looked horrified and disappointed at the boy on the bed and looked at the other two boys now close to where Professor Snape was lying. He looked directly at Harry pleading him to under-stand. Harry just looked stonily back

“I have not been helping Sirius. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —”

He separated Harry’s and Draco’s wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, easily. Lupin, stuck his own wand back into his belt.

“There, you’re armed. Now will you listen?”

Harry didn’t know what to think. Was it a trick? Draco nudged him reminding him that Black still had Ron’s wand and even if Harry was top of his year, they were still no match for a werewolf and a mass murderer even if he did not seem particularly interested in killing at the moment.

“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black… I saw him collide
with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —” He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

“Do you think I could have a look at the rat?”

“What? What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

“Everything. Could I see him, please?”

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately, slightly damp; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

“What?”

Ron held Scabbers close to him, looking scared.

“What’s my rat got to do with anything?”

“That’s not a rat,”

“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —”

Lupin moved back unable to hold his breath any longer.

“No, he’s not. He’s a wizard. An Animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

“You’re nutters, both of you,”

Ron shakily, looked round at Harry and Draco for support. Both boys sneered at the idiot. Who in their right mind would insult two very dangerous men especially with no backup and a broken leg? Typical Gryffindor.

“I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

“You’re going to hear me out, Ron. Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen.”

“HE’S NOT PETER, HE’S SCABBERS!”

Ron tried to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Lupin caught him and pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ig-noring Black, Harry turned to Lupin his mind working hard to try and figure out how to free Snape and protect his mate. He needed more information.

“There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die. A whole street full of them…”

Black never talking his eyes of Scabbers struggling in Ron’s hands spoke.

“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!”

Lupin nodded

“Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter. I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Be-cause the Marauder’s map never lies… Peter’s alive. Ron’s holding him, Harry.”

Harry looked down at Draco, and as their eyes met, they agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Petti-grew? Azkaban must have unhinged Black after all — but why was Lupin playing along with him?

“If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus. I’ve waited twelve years; I’m not going to wait much longer.”

“All right… but you’ll need to help me, Sirius. I only know how it began…”

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the land-ing.

“No one there…”

Harry quickly tucked his wand back up his sleeve not want the adult to see that he could do some wordless magic. Black eyes flicked to the door as well giving Harry a split second to cast a muttered spell at his unconscious head of house.

“Enervate.”

Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way moved back into the room missing the still bound teachers eye flick open and closed quickly essaying the situation. Lupin pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment.

“People will soon realise that the children are missing and we owe Harry the truth.”

Black growled in agreement and the wand in his hand twitched violently towards the rat. Lupin nodded and fixed Harry with his gaze.

“It all started when we were in Hogwarts. Dumbledore allowed me to attend even though I was a werewolf and they are usually treated with hate by the Wizard community. This shack was made to hold me on night when the moon was full. I made three wonderful friends, later a fourth joined our group. There was James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew who did something incredible. To keep me company when I was a wolf, they also changed into animal form in secret.

Draco took a sharp breath in.

“I read about that ability it’s called Animagus. It can only be done by a power wizard and only if they are good at transfiguration. Professor McGonagall is a cat Animagus remember in the first year.”

Lupin’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice.

“All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me… and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so, I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

Black took his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. His mouth twisted cruelly at the name.

“Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the De-fence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trust-ed. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —”

Black made a derisive noise. Lupin just shook his head at the convict making the other grin wildly.

“Professor Snape already told me what you did to him. When we were in his office.”

“Oh right, not one of our proudest moments I admit.”

Harry had to admire his potions master for not ripping these two arse holes to bits. Draco was practically foaming at the mouth wanting to curse the two men for tormenting his god father and ruining his life so badly with very little or no regret. Something bleeped in Lupin’s robes and he frowned slightly.

“It’s time we offered you some proof. You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now.”

Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest. Draco sniggered softly even through his fear and mutter under his breath to Harry.

“There seems to be a love affair between the two. I wonder what a weasel and a rat baby look like?”

Harry shuddered at the thought, his eyes darting around the scene waiting for a chance to get away from these lunatics, free Professor Snape and keep Draco safe.

“Enough of this. Ron, give me that rat.”

“What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?”

“Force him to show himself. If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.”

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

“Ready, Sirius?”

Chapter Text

He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his already crazed eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

“Together?”

“I think so. On the count of three. One — two — THREE!”

Harry saw his chance. His wand flicked and the bonds holding Professor Snape immobile came apart allowing him to free his hands when it was time to run.

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small grey form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers’s fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

“Well, hello, Peter,”

Lupin’s voice was pleasant, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him.

“Long time, no see.”

“S—Sirius… R—Remus…”

Even Pettigrew’s voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door.

“My friends… my old friends…Harry my dear boy, please don’t let them hurt me. I am the inno-cent one they are both mad.”

Black’s wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took. Harry moved closer to Draco ready to escape as quickly as possible. All of this sounded like something Shakespeare would write and he had no interest in being a part of it.

“I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,”

“Innocent, but scared! If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!”

Black’s face contorted.

“How dare you,”

He growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been.

“I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more power-ful than myself? But you, Peter — I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…”

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

“Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don’t know how you can say such a —”

“Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,”

Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward.

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like “far-fetched” and “lunacy,” but he couldn’t help paying more attention to the ashen colour of Pettigrew’s face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door, before looking desperately at Harry and Draco as if they would be the ones to save him. Both boys stared coldly back.

“Sirius — it’s me… it’s Peter… your friend… you wouldn’t —”

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

“There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them.”

Lupin started rolling up his sleeves getting ready to cast all the curses that he had learnt Black, the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face also began rolling up his sleeves.

“Shall we kill him together?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You wouldn’t… you won’t…”

Pettigrew scrambled around to Ron.

“Ron… haven’t I been a good friend… a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ron, will you… you’re on my side, aren’t you?”

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with a blank expression his brain seeming over loaded with all the new information that he seen.

“I let you sleep in my bed!”

“Kind boy… kind master…”

Pettigrew crawled toward Ron.

“You won’t let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…”

Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew’s reach. A sudden though coming to him. He looked at Lupin and licked his lips.

“I want compensation for you killing my pet. Give me 30 Gallons and I’ll give him to you.”

Lupin gave the greedy boy a look of disgust before opting to ignore the boy.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

“Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him… Harry, James wouldn’t have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…”

Harry’s eyes glowed with power and malice at one of the main people who had led to his being abandoned and abused by his relatives. Draco also had a look of hate and revulsion on his face. Harry pointed his wand at the snivelling rat and uttered a curse making the rat like being scream in agony as his finger and toenails ripped themselves out of their sockets. The rest of the room cringed at the piercing scream that came from the buck toothed wretch and Ron’s face went white at the realisation that the person he had been antagonising all these years was nothing like the hero he had once read about.

“I am nothing like my father.”

Lupin looked nauseous and shocked at the viciousness of Harry’s attack. Black on the other hand was grinning manically and almost dancing on the spot at the pained screams that came from the former rat, he spat on the writhing figure.

“You sold Lily and James to Voldemort. Do you deny it?”

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor. His fear over riding his pain as he pleaded for his life.

“Sirius, Remus, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can’t imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you two and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —”

Sirius made a jerking movement with his hands as if he wanted place them around the man’s neck and slowly squeeze the life out of him.

“You don’t understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

“You should have realized, if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter.”

“Stupefy.”

Sirius gave a barking laugh at the look frozen on Pettigrew’s face and Lupin gave a credible Slytherin smirk. Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and moved back towards Dra-co who gripped his hand hard once he was in reach.

Lupin, suddenly business-like and twirled his wand in his and before pointing at the red head on the bed.

“Right, Ron, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomphrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing and then we might see about getting you some compensation if you co-operate with us in getting Sirius freed, understood?”

Ron nodded and they could all see the pound signs glittering in his eyes at the realisation that Sir-ius would be indebted to him if he did as he was told. Lupin, bent down, tapped Ron’s leg with his wand, and muttered,

“Ferula.”

Bandages spun up Ron’s leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn’t wince.

“What about Snape? Can we leave him here to rot the greasy wanker?”

Draco snarled at the brat and raised his wand ready to curse the red head. Lupin quickly inter-vened.

“There’s nothing seriously wrong with him. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive him until we’re safety back in the castle. We can take him like this…”

Draco opened his mouth to reject the plan, but Harry quickly squeezed his hand. Snape had not moved at Lupin touch so Harry figured out that He had a plan and exposing him would not work in their favour if thing turned ugly.

“Mobilicorpus.”

As though invisible strings were tied to Snape’s wrists, neck he hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Harry really had to admire the man’s acting skills as the position he was in looked most uncomfortable. Black then conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to his own and a quick levitation charm allowed the convict to pull the stupefied man along with him much like a heavy balloon.

Chapter Text

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Sirius, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to man-age it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. Harry could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harry went right after Black with Draco crowding just behind him, Lupin was still making Snape drift along ahead of them trying to subtly move his head so it didn’t bang on the ceiling.

“You know what this means?”

Black said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel.

“Turning Pettigrew in?”

Harry trying to concentrate moving through the cramped tunnel answered him shortly.

“You’re free.”

“Yes… But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godfather.”

Harry wondered why the man was trying to talk to him and stating something he already knew.

“Yeah, I already knew that.”

Sirius suddenly looked nervous at the disinterest in Harry’s voice.

“Well… your parents appointed me your guardian. If anything happened to them…”

Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

“Once my names cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…”

“What — live with you? No thank you, Mr Black, I am quite content to stay where I am at the moment. The Malfoy’s take more than adequate care of me and Draco is my future soul mate. It would be a very unwise idea to separate us.”

Sirius’ face darkened at the Malfoy name but did not press the issue as Draco was in hearing dis-tance and he wanted to get Harry alone before he raised the question again. He needed Harry to trust him more before he made any demands of him. He cringed inside slightly at the thought of what James would say if he were alive about Harry associating with such scum as the Malfoy’s.

“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to. I understand, I just thought I’d —”

Harry just nodded shortly and they lapsed back in to silence. Harry felt Draco’s body almost pressed into the back of his and one of the blonde’s hands gripping the back of his shirt tightly as if vowing never to let him go.

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Black darted up first trail-ing a stunned Peter; he had evidently pressed his hand to the knot on the trunk, because Ron clam-bered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Lupin saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry and Draco to pass. At last, all of them were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Harry’s mind was buzzing. He was not going to leave the Malfoy’s never mind what anyone else said. But what was He going to do with Sirius Black, his parents’ best friend…? He felt frazzled and drained.

Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Lupin, his chin bumping on his chest, but Harry could see the others eyes were half open surveying the situation. And then -

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry and Draco stop.

Harry could see Lupin’s silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake. Draco whimpered in fear.

“He didn’t take his potion tonight! He’s not safe!”

Black tensed.

“Run, Run. Now!!!”

But Harry didn’t run, Draco was too scared to move and had to be protected. He took a step forward but Black caught him around the chest and threw him back.

“Leave it to me — RUN!”

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin’s head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry’s side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other.

Harry stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Ron’s scream that alerted him —

Severus had dived for Lupin’s dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. Severus rose and shouted a spell at the struggling animals.

“Nes argento.” (Silver confines)

Silver shot out of the wand towards the struggling figures. There was a yelp as Sirius in his Grimm form hurled the raging beast out of the path of the spell before it hit him in the side, wrapping him in a silver net. Snape cursed under his breath at the now ensnared dog who had tried to save the werewolf from the spell. The wolf quickly shook off being thrown and looked around for his near-est target. His amber eyes glowed with madness, his muzzle dripped with drool and blood where he had bitten Sirius in their fight.

Draco moaned in fear as his legs collapsed beneath him behind Harry as the golden, red eyes fixed on them. Snape readied his wand and took another shot at the beast. The spell missed as the wolf started to move almost tauntingly towards the two boys. Snape watched in horror as the carnivore picked up speed running at full tilt at the helpless prey in front of him.

“RUN!!!!!”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

Harry stood there watching the battle scene as if it were in slow motion. Thoughts and memories surged in his head and an icy, cold calm gripped him pulling all emotions away. Everything seemed so distant and yet so close. He felt cold, but was burning, light as a cloud, but as heavy as lead. The skin on his body could feel the caress of the smallest of touches but as numb as a sheet of armour. He took a breath of the cold night air as if it were his first breath and slowly let it out as the beast slowly flew towards them.

If anyone had been looking his eyes had turned a solid green and green lightening rippled around his face. Almost on its own accord his left arm rose into a stop position, the air instantly solidified in front of the boys creating a barrier, almost invisible, yet impenetrable. Unable to stop the were-wolf slammed in it temporally stunning its self from the head long charge.

“Foolish creature. Do you not know whom you attack?”

The great beast stilled sniffing around the barrier growling and whining at being denied its prey. It howled a challenge at the puny thing that tried to command it. He had only one Mistress and that was the Moon who set him free as she shone. He was a creature of the light and dark, a true animal of the Grey. He sniffed hungry and froze.

‘Master?’

“You shall not harm my vessel or his mate, be gone!!!”

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Snape saw the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest. His gaze followed the retreating figure before flicking back to where the boys were. He watched as Harry stood tall from a couple of seconds and watched as the boy slowly fell back-wards, passed out, Draco cushioning his fall before also passing out with stress.

“What the bloody hell just happened?”

Snape stiffened; he had forgotten about the annoying red head that had also been watching. His mind still in over drive pointed his borrowed wand at the boy whose eyes opened in horror. The boy had seen too much and was a danger to his godson.

“No, wait….”

“Obliviate.”

Chapter Text

“Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape…”

“Thank you, Minister.”

“Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, if I can wangle it!”

“Thank you very much indeed, Minister.”

“Nasty bruise you’ve got there… Black’s work, I suppose?”

“As a matter of fact, it was Lupin, Minister…”

“No!”

“Black had bewitched them; I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their be-haviour. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren’t responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape… They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They’ve got away with a great deal before now… I’m afraid it’s given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster —”

“Ah, well, Snape… Harry Potter, you know… we’ve all got a bit of a blind spot where he’s concerned.”

“And yet — is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for his protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer —”

“Well, well… we shall see, Snape, we shall see… The boy has undoubtedly been foolish…Ah, hello Headmaster, I trust the prisoner is secure.”

Harry lay listening with his eyes tight shut. He felt very groggy. The words he was hearing seemed to be traveling very slowly from his ears to his brain, so that it was difficult to understand… His limbs felt like lead; his eyelids too heavy to lift… He wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, forever…

“What amazes me most is the behaviour of the were-wolf… you’ve really no idea what made it retreat, Snape?”

“Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harry, and the other boy, Wesley?”

“Weasley, Minister. All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle.”

“It’s an interesting story Severus, but I took the liberty of questing the prisoner as I was securing him and he also had an interesting story as well. One that might be worth looking into, Minister. I have found out in my vast experience that both sides of the story show a greater insight into what really happened. I would suggest that until Mr Potter and Mr Weasley are up and about and capa-ble of speaking, judgement might be withheld until then?”

There was a pause. Harry’s brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of his stomach…

He opened his eyes.

Everything was slightly blurred. He was lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward, he could make out Madam Pomphrey with her back to him, bending over a bed. Harry squinted. Ron’s red hair was visible beneath Madam Pomphrey’s arm.

Harry moved his head over on the pillow, the hospital wing door. It was ajar, and the voices of Cornelius Fudge and Snape were coming through it from the corridor outside.

Madam Pomphrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Harry’s bed. He turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest bottle of Medication he had ever seen in his life. It looked like a small barrel.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

She placed the small barrel on Harry’s bedside table and began breaking the seal on it apart with a small hammer.

“It is not often I get a patient so severely drained of magic, Mr Potter. You are lucky to still be alive. By rights you should be in a coma.”

She pulled a mug out and dipped it in to the medicine.

“Here drink this. It’s a magical replenisher and stabiliser draft. With how bad you are drained you will be drinking all of this over the next couple of hours.”

She shoved the mug at him as he struggled to sit up as the voices got closer. The door opened. It was Dumbledore, Snape and Fudge. Harry swallowed his mouthful of medicine with great difficul-ty and tried to get up. He was pushed back down by an irritated nurse.

“For heaven’s sake. Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —”

“My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter and Mr Weasley if they are awake? I have just been talking to Sirius Black —”

“I suppose he’s told you the same fairy tale he’s planted in Potter’s mind? Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —”

“That, indeed, is Black’s story.”

Dumbledore, surveyed Snape closely. This could ruin his plans if the fool talked too much, the Minister could quite easily become inconveniently stubborn if things didn’t go his own way. He caught the potion master’s eye and stared piercingly at him before turning to the other man.

“Quiet Severus, before any action is taken, we must find the truth of the matter. I am sure the Min-ister is capable and just in his dealing with this matter. You must forgive Professor Snape. He and Sirius Black had some what of a childish rivalry at school and it seems that not all is forgiven judg-ing by both their stories.”

Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behaviour, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape bared his teeth in fury before whirling about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. Fudge stared after him.

“Fellow seems slightly unbalanced. I’d watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore.”

“Oh, he’s not unbalanced. He’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”

“He’s not the only one! The Daily Prophet’s going to have a field day! We had
Black thrown in Azkaban without a trial even if his is guilty of Murder. If this get out, and I’ll be a laughingstock or worse! This can not get out to the population it will cause to much instability amongst the population and their trust in the government will fail in these hard times.”

Dumbledore hummed slightly looking deep in thought and wise. Harry narrowed his eyes at the two but kept quiet observing the pair who had seemed to have forgotten that his was awake and listening in on their conversation. Dumbledore hummed again for good measure and spoke slowly a well concealed crafty look entering his eyes.

“Black’s unfortunate circumstances can’t be blamed on you Minister as you were not in power at the time. As a strong up standing leader of the people you have gone to great lengths already to help and protect our children only to find to your horror of this great misjustice of the law. If Black is truly innocent you are righting a great wrong, if he is guilty you are making sure that the escape prisoner has been captured and now is legally sentenced by the proper authorities.”

Fudges eyes glazed over a second as he processed these words and a foolish smirk flittered across his face.

“Brilliant idea Albus, either way I can’t lose. Keep Black here until I can arrange transport and a trial as soon as possible.”

“And the Dementors? They’ll be removed from the school, I trust?”

Fudge, ran his fingers distractedly through his hair.

“Oh yes, they’ll have to go. I’ll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight… Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…”

Dumbledore steered the man towards the door his plans already in motion forgetting Harry who was frowning deep in thought. He did not like where this was going in the slightest as he and Fudge left the dormitory, Madam Pomphrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering an-grily to herself, she headed back to her office.

When Harry and Ron left the hospital wing at noon the next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering, heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full ad-vantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Draco had been hovering out side the hospital wing after his godfather had told him the time of Harry’s release. Apparently, Snape had dropped the unconscious boy off in his own rooms to avoid any one trying to manipulate his godson when he was at his weakest. Harry totally approved of this action as it kept Draco out of harm’s way.

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry and Draco had passed every subject top of their year, which made Hermione if rumours are to be believed throw a massive screaming fit in the girl’s dorm. Harry was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that he being in Slytherin and best friends with Draco, might have stopped Snape failing him on pur-pose as well as a kind of an apology for his previous actions. This didn’t stop Snape’s behaviour toward Harry, over the past week Snape’s attitude had been quite alarming. Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible that Snape’s dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape’s thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry’s throat. Even Draco looked slightly worried at his godfather actions and quietly wrote to his father about his atti-tude.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Harry breathed a small sigh of relief as the headmaster seemed to have not carried out his plan, whatever it was and he was on his way back to the Malfoy’s with out any difficulty. Draco had his head on his lap and Harry was gently stroking his hair as some of the other Slytherin’s in his year joined them in the carriage and were talking quietly about their plans for the holidays. Pansy suddenly pointed at the window.

“Harry. What’s that thing outside your window?”

Harry turned to look outside. Something very small and grey was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. He stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffet-ed this way and that in the train’s slipstream. Harry quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm, and caught it. It felt like a very fluffy Snitch. He brought it carefully inside.

The owl dropped its letter onto Harry’s seat and began zooming around their compartment, ap-parently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Whisper made a half- hearted swipe at it in cat form in dignified disapproval. Blaise, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm’s way.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter, and muttered,

“It’s from Mr Black.”

Dear Harry,

I hope this finds you before you reach the station. I don’t know whether you have heard, I have finally had my trial and been found innocent, all thanks to Dumbledore. There is something I nev-er got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt. Crookshanks that is that nice girl Hermione Grangers cat, took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godfather.

As I am now free, I can take up my duties as your God-father and you will be coming to live with me instead of the Malfoy’s. Dumbledore has organised it all so you don’t have to worry about of-fending those pure blood snobs. By the way some of the Weasley’s might be stopping at our house as Dumbledore seems to think you need some positive influences in your life. Dumbledore ex-plained to me Ron’s attitude was because that damned rat had him under some dark spells which are now removed and he is truly sorry for his actions. In light of this, I am sure you two will be-come great friends when he comes to stay with us.
I’ll see you soon at the station.

Sirius

Harry felt a coldness creep into his body and a burst of intense pain shoot though his head at the letter. They were taking him away from his Draco. There is going to be hell to pay.