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Chapter Text

Perhaps he should have seen this coming the moment he found out that Sirius Black was innocent. Once again, he was forced to face the mistake he had made by not paying closer attention to the boys' friendships in school.

Fourteen years ago, on that terrible evening, Albus had had to face the consequences of not realizing one of them may have been a traitor. Two years ago, he faced the terrible fate he had helped thrust on an innocent man - in his pain and rage, Albus had agreed to forgo Sirius's trial. This choice ultimately led to Voldemort's return.

Now, he had not realized that Sirius would defy him to protect his old friend. 

No, that wasn't quite right. 

Albus considered the two men before him. Sirius had his arms crossed and chest puffed, head tilted defiantly. Remus was more reserved, looking tired as always but his gaze determined. They stood together in a way that stirred Albus's memory to a time he had stood like that beside the man he loved, unable to openly show affection.

These two were standing on the right side, though. 

Albus gave each of them one last appraising look before speaking.

—

[ One week earlier ]

The nice thing about having money was how quickly things happened, so Remus was learning. Sirius had sent the letter to his solicitor regarding Harry just two days earlier, and now they were scheduled to meet. The appointment was to be held at Grimmauld Place. Remus's cottage had been serving as a safe haven and they both wanted to continue keeping the outside world out of it.

Unfortunately, this meant going to No. 12 Grimmauld Place. 

Sirius stepped through the floo and into the building for the first time since he was sixteen. Remus followed behind, and soon Sirius felt their fingers woven together. 

The place was a tip. Dust thickly coating every surface, black mould creeping up from the windows and ceilings. The curtains were closed, at least, preventing bleaching on the furniture and carpets from years of uninterrupted sun exposure. 

"It looks like no one's been here in years," Remus whispered as if they were in a mausoleum.

Sirius was about to make a crack about how the old house elf must have snuffed it when the cursed creature poked his ancient nose through the door. His wrinkled face soured upon seeing them.

"What's this?" the elf muttered, "The nasty, ungrateful swine is back, my poor mistress, how dare he sully her home with his presence…"

"Shut it, Kreacher!" Sirius bellowed before Remus gripped his shoulder, hard.

"Stop it, Padfoot," he hissed, casting a pitying gaze upon the house elf, who had immediately gone silent but was glaring petulantly at them. The werewolf sighed heavily, "At least we know the ownership transferred properly- looks like he's stuck obeying you, poor bloke."

Sirius shot him a glare, "Trust me, I'd much rather he didn't have to - I don't want anything to do with -"

"Then why not release him, Sirius?" Remus snapped, noticing how the elf cowered at the suggestion, "Send him to Narcissa or Bellatrix maybe? Didn't Harry cost the Malfoys their elf - let him serve a family he'd respect."

"He already knows too much," Sirius grumbled, "Dumbledore doesn't think it's safe - and on this I agree. I was hoping he'd died," he finished, glowering at the house elf who only met his eyes with a spiteful glare. 

Remus just scoffed and turned back to the sitting room, taking his wand out and beginning the cleaning charms. Sirius dismissed the elf grumpily before storming off, muttering about seeing if he could even cobble together a decent cuppa in this hellhole. 

By the time the solicitor was scheduled, the sitting room was looking somewhat habitable. It was a sunny summer day, and the open window at least allowed fresh air into the room and the sunlight brightened the space. The couch, arm chairs, and coffee table were at least clean - with a tea set laid out.

"It's alright, we'll be out of here soon," Remus said gently, rubbing Sirius's shoulder as they stood and waited for the solicitor to come through the floo.

"For now," Sirius growled, "But I'm going to be stuck here for the duration of this damn war…"

Thankfully, the fireplace turned green and Remus was spared from having to think of a response.

The solicitor was a dark-skinned woman with silvery grey hair fixed into tiny braids and then immaculately twisted around her head. She wore robes of kitenge in vibrant blue, indigo, and gold.

She looked around the room with warm chocolate eyes and shook her head, "This place has certainly seen better days, Mr. Black."

"It's been empty since my parents' death, Ms. Juma," Sirius said simply. He made the introductions between Remus and the solicitor, Ms. Anisa Juma, before inviting everyone to sit and offering the tea. At least the manners his parents had ingrained in him could sometimes be useful.

"I know you aren't terribly bothered about preserving the property," she mused, taking the cup as it levitated towards her, "then, your fortune is hardly tied up in it." Anisa leaned forwards, "I admit, I had expected this meeting ever since I heard about the alleged return of He Who Must Not Be Named."

She pulled a leather folder out of a pocket in her robes that was certainly too small to hold it.

"Now, you were finally able to provide me with the Potters' will - which you witnessed," she raised an eyebrow at Sirius, "Did you actually read it?"

"Er… no."

She sighed softly, "I thought not - I wish I had seen it fourteen years ago," she shook her head, "It explicitly states in the strictest legal terms that Harry James Potter was never to end up in the custody of a Mr Vernon Dursley, nor a Mrs Petunia Dursley nee Evans."

"Then can't we use that–?"

"No, they've had custody for too long. Also, I believe I know why Mr. Dumbledore was so adamant about him staying there," she pulled out a piece of parchment and passed it to Sirius, "There is an old blood magic that Lily may have unknowingly invoked, blessing Harry Potter with protection as long as he resides with someone who carries his mother's blood."

"His aunt," Remus said quietly, "That would explain why he wasn't more hunted, why they didn't need more protectors around Privet Drive after what happened, why Dumbledore let him go back there for the summer instead of keeping Harry under his protection."

"Precisely," Anisa agreed, "As such, it is unfortunately vital that he remain a resident of his aunt and uncle's house until his 17th birthday, when the protection will expire."

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

"The other point which I imagine you aren't aware of," she began, casting a sympathetic look at Remus, "Is that alongside Sirius Black - another guardian was named. One Remus John Lupin."

The werewolf froze, staring at her with wide eyes.

"There is also a fund specifically set aside to support Harry's upbringing, which would have more than supported a wizard and child to live comfortably without any other income," she added, handing the will to Remus, open to the pages she was referencing.

He took it with shaking hands, tears in his eyes as he read over it. 

"Unfortunately, we must tread carefully as the Dursleys would have an argument to access that fund," she said softly.

"Like hell! They had him sleeping in a goddamned cupboard!" Sirius growled.

Anisa shot him a warning look, "Unfortunately, Mr. Black, in muggle courts it is far easier to prove that they had full custody of Harry for fourteen years than it is to prove that abuse and neglect happened."

Sirius nodded and glared down at his hands.

"Do you have a solution?" Remus asked softly.

"That I do, Mr. Lupin," she said with a warm smile, "The easiest way to move forwards is to approach Mrs. Dursley directly and have her agree to share custody with you, Mr. Lupin. She would need to have primary residential custody, due to the protective magic, but you would have full rights to make educational and medical decisions for him. This agreement through the muggle courts is accepted as law in our world."

"Residence also can only mean staying the night, and thanks to magic I am confident we could arrange for you to have Harry most days of the summer even if he needs to spend his nights in Little Whinging," she finished.

"D'you think you can convince them?" Sirius asked skeptically, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch, "They're the worst kind of muggle."

"I assure you, I have dealt with far more stubborn types," she said with a wicked smile, "My staff are thoroughly trained to pass unnoticed in muggle society and I have the perfect partner in mind to convince them."

The rest of the meeting went quite quickly. There were a few estate issues that needed to be addressed, and then Anisa was bidding her farewells and disappearing back through the floo.

Before they left, Remus was even able to convince Sirius to thank Kreacher for his work. It was through clenched teeth, but it was something at least.

— 

Anisa Juma was proven to be a miracle worker, as within days of their meeting they received word that the paperwork was signed and a court hearing scheduled for right after Harry would be returning from school. Certified copies of everything were included. A silencing charm had been cast on Harry’s room, allowing Remus to apparate in and out without the noise being heard by the household or neighbors.

They wanted to be able to share the news, but were also wary about Dumbledore getting wind of it. While they would like to believe he'd appreciate that it was best for Harry, they both had a sinking feeling that he would most certainly not.

This meant just sending an owl was out of the question.  There were no more Hogsmeade trips for the year, either.

"We are not using the Floo to contact him," Remus said tersely over dinner of battered sausage from the village's chip shop. They'd spent the day out, with Sirius in dog form, doing their best to keep their minds off everything. 

Sirius grumbled for a moment before perking up with excitement, "The mirrors!"

Remus simply stared at him in confusion, so Sirius huffed and continued, "The two-way mirrors that James and I used to talk during detention."

"You did not tell me that you had two-way mirrors," Remus pointed out with a soft chuckle, "You've got both of them, then?"

Sirius chewed his lip for a moment, frowning, "James's will still be in Godric's Hollow," he looked up at Remus with big, puppy like eyes, "Could you find it for me, Moony?"

"Will it respond to 'accio two-way mirror'?"

"Can't see why not."

"Alright, after dinner, then - you'll need to fetch yours as well, Padfoot."

Sirius grimaced at having to return to his childhood home so soon, but simply nodded. It would be worth it.

—

The time after sending the parcel to Harry saw Sirius pacing the floor nervously while Remus read the newspaper. The two-way mirror was sat on the couch next to him, reflecting the ceiling and reminding him that it could do with a new coat of paint.

"It takes time for the owl to get there, Pads," Remus pointed out, "and he probably won't rush to use it."

Sirius just scowled at him without interrupting his pacing. 

"Sirius? Erm, how does-?"

The sound of Harry's voice sent Sirius pouncing like a dog after a ball, quickly settling himself against Remus and grinning at the boy who was staring at him in shock. 

"Hullo, mate, are you winning?" Sirius asked.

Harry continued to just stare owlishly for a moment before breaking into a relieved smile, "I'm alright, yeh, you?"

"Moony's keeping me well enough."

"Steady diet of dog biscuits," Remus agreed.

"Oh! Professor Lupin. That's right, Dumbledore told you to stay with him," Harry said. The angle on his mirror changed and Sirius realized he was trying to look for the man - he shifted so that Remus could be seen better. "You're both looking better than when I last saw you."

"You look like you've been through the ringer," Remus said gently, "You'll tell Madame Pomfrey if you're struggling?"

"It's fine," Harry mumbled, shrugging, then looked back to his godfather, "Did you want to talk to me? Why didn't you send this sooner?" 

"I didn't have them, had to send Remus to get the other one," Sirius explained, leaving off that he'd forgotten they existed, "I did want to talk to you - is now a good time? Are you somewhere private?"

"I should be in Charms…" Harry said with a lopsided grin, "So the dormitory is pretty empty," he held the mirror up to show the room was deserted, "What's going on?"

"Well, first of all, has anyone explained the protection against Voldemort that you have?" Sirius asked.

"Had, he can touch me now," Harry muttered darkly.

"Have - it may not be as strong, but it's still there."

Sirius explained the sacrificial protection, how it was tied to his mother's blood and required him to live with and return to the Dursleys each year.

After finishing the explanation, they waited in silence for Harry's response.

"That explains a lot, I suppose," he said dully, "I don't understand why Dumbledore didn't just tell me this…"

"He's not the most forthcoming person," Remus agreed with a sigh, "He believes it's protection, but I imagine knowing that being there keeps you safe would have done more good than harm."

"Probably worried you'd get reckless and do something daft," Sirius grumbled.

"Like running after Quirrel? Or going alone into the Chamber of Secrets? Or confronting a crazed mass murderer?" Remus asked mildly.

"Exactly, the boy might even end up dueling Voldemort himself if he knew!" Sirius admonished.

Harry snorted a small laugh.

"On that note… we have something to discuss with you that would probably be better if Dumbledore didn't find out," Sirius added firmly.  Harry just raised an eyebrow at that. "We believe it's in your best interests - and if you don't agree it doesn't have to happen - but it's possible Dumbledore will try to stop it."

"Also it's better to stay in his good graces right now," Remus agreed with a sigh, "And we really ought to have asked you before we started anything…"

"I did ask him!" Sirius objected, "Back when we met."

"I'll be able to live with you?" Harry asked eagerly. 

"Yes and no," Remus said, casting Sirius a withering glance before explaining the steps that the solicitor had taken to establish custody.

"Wait - you, Professor Lupin? You barely know me," Harry mumbled.

"He's spent more time with you than I have," Sirius pointed out, "He was closer to Lily, too."

"You were?"

"Yeah. Back when she couldn't stand James, she and Remus were good friends."

"Wait - my mum couldn't stand my dad?" 

"They met when they were very young, and took a few years to warm up to each other. Your dad had some growing up to do," Remus explained, his cheeks pink, "By seventh year they were inseparable. They loved each other, and you, very much."

"Oh," Harry said with a small smile, not entirely sure how to feel about it all but still glad to learn more about his parents.

"Remus is fairly convinced that you wouldn't want a werewolf for a guardian," Sirius added, rolling his eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because sometimes he's a numpty," his godfather said sagely, grinning at the sandy haired man whose face had gone even redder.

"We'll go ahead with the plan, then?" Remus asked nervously.

"Yes, please," Harry said with a smile, "I won't tell Dumbledore or anyone - but are Ron and Hermione alright?"

"To be safe - please don't tell anyone until after the court hearing," Sirius said gently, "And we'll keep the mirror on hand. So if you need anything, or just want to chat, we'll be here - alright?"

"Okay, thank you," Harry glanced over to the side of his bed, "It's nearly time for Defense Against the Dark Arts to start - we haven't got a teacher anymore so someone might come in. I should probably go."

"Make sure you catch up on the Charms lesson you missed!" Remus called through right before the glass turned back to a normal mirror. 

Sirius just looked at him with a smirk, "Staying on message there, professor."

Chapter Text

A few days later, they woke up to a regal looking owl sitting on their kitchen table. It was addressed to Sirius in Dumbledore's refined script. 

Sirius groaned after sending the owl back off, "I don't even want to open this. Why couldn't he send a howler?"

"Drink this first," Remus said, pushing a cup of coffee into his hand before returning to the counter to make toast, "You know if it were urgent he'd have used another method."

The next few minutes were quiet. The only sounds the hum and eventual pop of the toaster, followed by the light scraping of a knife over the toast. 

Sirius opened the envelope after finishing half a piece, chuckling bitterly, "I'm being summoned to the headmaster's office - portkey and everything," he gestured to the pen that had fallen out of the envelope.

"He may have noticed the Fidelius on Grimmauld's Place."

"Come with me, then?"

"Of course."

—

The portkey deposited them in the familiar Headmaster's office. The old wizard was sitting behind his desk and spent a few moments watching them before he gave an amused smile.

"I believe I had only extended an invitation to Sirius," he said lightly, glancing at Remus who only smiled amiably.

"I thought my instructions to keep him also meant keeping him out of trouble - make sure he doesn't go wandering into the student body."

"Of course," Albus shook his head heavily and gestured for them to sit down at the chairs across from him. He fixed his gaze on Sirius, "It would seem I no longer have the ability to visit No 12 Grimmauld Place."

"You did want me to set up a Fidelius Charm," he said cheerfully.

"With myself as the secret keeper," Albus said pointedly, raising an eyebrow. 

Sirius kept his confident grin in place, "We discussed that, sure, but there's really no one I trust more to keep my secrets than Lupin here."

Remus's cheeks went pink and a small smile crossed his face before he took a more neutral expression.  

"Ah, of course, I believe I should have expected that," Albus said, giving Remus an appraising look, "I trust you understand the target this may make you, and how vital it is that you take no unnecessary risks - you must stay alive."

"I wasn't planning on dying, Albus," he said with a soft chuckle.

"He's always been the most careful of us," Sirius pointed out, "and he's not exactly a stranger to being targeted."

"We will of course adjust your missions to take this into account," Albus said heavily then looked back to Sirius, "Will I be able to convince you to make me a second secret keeper? To make it easier to share with those who need to be informed?"

"Can't see the need for that, safer with one, innit?"

"Very well," Albus said, placing a hand to his forehead, "I do hope that you two won't make a habit out of subverting my orders."

"We will never knowingly take an action that will endanger Harry," Remus said solemnly, "Which means facilitating the Order."

"But," Sirius added, "We aren't 17 anymore and we aren't blindly following, either. That said - if you can give me a legitimate reason why Remus isn't an acceptable secret keeper or you need to be as well, I'll do it."

"Hmm, that sounds reasonable," the headmaster mused, leaning back in his chair and regarding them both. Then he chuckled, "Very well. Mr. Lupin has certainly earned our trust. I will concede to the value of only one secret keeper so long as you're willing to write the information down a few times so I may share it as I see fit."

Both men nodded their agreement to this, Remus reaching out a hand for a quill and parchment.

"Also if you would tell Minerva, Severus, and Rubeus before you go, Remus, I'd be most obliged," he added. Sirius made a face at the mention of Snape, and Remus shot him a warning glance. 

"Can we say hello to Harry as well?"

"No, he's had enough disruptions recently."

Soon they were in the stairwell outside Dumbledore's office, bickering very briefly, then walking out into the hallway as a man with a dog at his heel. 

This was noteworthy enough on its own when the man wasn't a former, slightly disgraced professor.  A few Slytherins sneered and made comments. Other students avoided him with wary whispers. Then, to his shock, a few students approached him with eager smiles to say hello and express how they missed his classes.

Padfoot also got some attention - a well behaved dog always did - and Remus casually described him as his emotional support animal. By the time they reached Professor McGonagall's office, they had a small gaggle of older students that were keen to ask his advice about OWLs and NEWTs or spend time petting the pleased dog.

"What is this ruckus?" Minerva asked, opening her door with irritation. Her face immediately changed to shock at the rather sheepish wizard and delighted dog standing outside her door.

"Lupin! I certainly wasn't expecting you, come in," she said, ushering both of them inside her office before shooing the students off.

"Sorry about that," Remus said, attempting to look contrite but sounding far too pleased, "Dumbledore asked us to see you quickly - to pass on the location of Order headquarters."

"Mr. Black's ancestral home, yes, I am aware," she said, casting a glance at the dog.

"Yes, but if I don't tell you that the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix are at No 12 Grimmauld Place - you won't be able to find it."

Minerva stopped in her tracks and cast him a scrutinizing gaze, "I'm sure Albus was delighted to find that out," she mused with a wry smile, "I am glad to see your friendship has survived everything - I still remember how close you all were." She shook her head, "I only hope you've developed the good sense to stay out of mischief!"

"I'd like to think that I have, professor," Remus said fondly, he glanced down at Sirius, "and he's developed the good sense to listen to me."

She snorted at that, then her face softened, "Be careful now, both of you."

"We will. Thank you, Minerva," Remus said, making his way out.

The next meeting was not likely to go nearly as pleasantly, and hopefully would be far shorter. The walk to Snape's office was fortunately emptier and they didn't end up with any followers this time. 

He rapped on the door with his knuckles and after a long pause the familiar voice drawled for him to enter. Remus did and gave Sirius a pointed look. 

"Professor Snape," he said mildly, "I'm afraid the headmaster has asked me to speak with you briefly."

The greasy haired man scowled at him, then sneered when he saw the dog at his side, "I see the monster has brought his pet. Don't you think you should be keeping him on a leash?"

Sirius began to snarl but Remus immediately nudged him with a knee to silence it. 

"Only when he's been good," Remus said with an amused chuckle, resulting in a look of loathing and revulsion. "The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix are at No 12 Grimmauld Place - you can visit now when needed."

Snape's face immediately contorted with outrage. "You?!" he spat, clenching the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white, "How dare you filthy mongrels go against Dumbledore's wishes?"

"Albus has agreed to it. Ta, Severus, pleasure as always," Remus replied, opening the door and using his leg to shove Sirius through it before quickly walking to the end of the hallway.

"Keep calm until we reach Hagrid's - or better yet until we get home," Remus told him sternly, to which the dog only huffed in response. 

The walk through the grounds cheered Padfoot immensely, soon the dog was bounding along. Hagrid was working in his garden, and looked up when the dog came over to him.

"Hullo again!" the large man said with delight, before noticing Remus coming through, "I weren't expectin' visitors - you can play out here a spell while I get the kettle on."

Padfoot barked with delight, wagging his tail as he trotted around the familiar area, bounding over to the edge of the forest and snuffling around until Remus was calling him over.

"This'll be Sirius Black, then?" Hagrid asked once they were both inside, "Dumbledore told me a bit - terrible business. Wish I'd'a known what you were 'bout to do when you gave me that bike…" the dog whined slightly at that and Hagrid closed the curtains, "Anyways, it's safe enough in here for a cuppa."

Sirius smiled sadly at the half-giant, "I don't think anyone could have stopped me from making that mistake back then."

"No, I s'pose not," Hagrid agreed heavily, "Now - what brings you both to my doorstep on this fine day?"

"Remus is secret keeper and needs to tell you where the headquarters for the Order is," Sirius said with a grin.

"He's just here for walkies," Remus added with a smirk. 

Hagrid laughed heartily, "Ah I remember you two from when you were yay high," he said, holding his hand up to indicate their height when they started Hogwarts and wiping away a tear, "It's good ter see you both doing so well."

They didn't stay for too long, but did have a cup of tea and caught up with Hagrid. Then they made their way to Hogsmeade, man and dog, where Remus got a takeaway from the Three Broomsticks before they apparated back to Remus’s cottage.

—

"Can you believe the bollocks that came out of Snivelllus's slimehole?" Sirius seethed the second they walked into the cottage.

Remus bit back his first response and sighed heavily, wishing they could have at least eaten before having this out. He cast a charm on the food to keep it hot before turning to Sirius. 

"Can I believe that he said the same shite he's been saying since the day we met?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"And you just take it! Calm as you like! As if it doesn't matter that he's insulting you and us ," Sirius snapped.

"It doesn't matter to me what Severus Snape thinks about anything," Remus said coolly, "Why the hell are you so worked up? What has he actually done to you in the last fifteen years?"

"He outed you to the entire school and made you resign!"

"No," Remus said sharply, "That is what he did to me and I get to decide how it is handled - aside from childish insults what has he actually done to you since we graduated?"

Sirius just glared at him, his face dark and contorted.

"Oh yes," Remus snarled, "You know what's coming - he wouldn't have been able to tell the Slytherins about me if you hadn't been a complete ponce and nearly gotten Snape killed and me executed. So I would kindly like you to drop this bullshit with him."

"I'll drop it when he does," Sirius spat.

"I do not give a shit what Snape does, Sirius, are you really going to make the quality of our relationship reliant on a certified tosser's behavior?"

Neither of them said anything for a long moment, just glaring at each other.  Sirius had his arms folded and was clearly not willing to dignify that question with a response.

Remus's anger passed first, as it usually did. His shoulders sagged and he ran a hand through his hair.

"It doesn't help anyone for you to be so nasty to him and I am the one who usually catches most of the flack from when you piss him off," he said softly, "I'd like to not have to worry about you riling him up for him to take it out on me."

Sirius grumbled and grimaced and sighed before crossing the distance and wrapping Remus up in a hug. 

"Why does he get under your skin so much?" Remus asked softly, "He's always made you irrational- hell I could imagine you fancied him for how intensely you felt."

"Eurgh, never say that again," he grimaced, "He's just the worst - literally slimy, he treated Lily and you horribly, was a Death Eater, now I'm out of Azkaban and suddenly he and Dumbledore are bezzie mates?" he shook his head, "It doesn't make sense."

"That I will agree with," Remus said heavily, "I'm not asking you to trust him or like him - just stop sinking to his level. Let him be a prat and let it go."

"I'm going to have to open my bloody home to him and he's just going to keep making snotty remarks…"

"Oh are you considering the miserable hellhole your home now?"

"That's my point, innit, it's bad enough without him sneering down that hook nose like he's better than us."

"And what do you get out of this grudge?" Remus asked, ruffling Sirius's hair, "We could have spent this conversation doing something nice together and instead you're huffing and puffing- you think he deserves that much attention? He'd probably be well chuffed to know he got under your skin so bad."

"Don't try to sell me on that 'best revenge is a life well lived' rubbish," Sirius whined, leaning into the touch, "It's not that easy!"

"No, it isn't," he agreed soothingly, "I'll do my best to help you with it, love, are you willing to try and stop reacting to him so much?"

"Fine," he huffed, "Only because you're asking so nicely."

—

The first official Order meeting saw Remus and Sirius not only at the house, but having to face everyone else as well. 

Most of the faces were familiar, many who had been there in the last war. A few new faces turned up, though, the youngest being a witch who managed to trip over three different things and set off Walburga's portrait between the door and her seat at the table. Sirius grinned when he saw her, whispering to Remus that she was his favorite cousin's daughter. 

"Is that favorite in the sense you like her - or favorite in that she's not quite as bad as Bellatrix or Narcissa?" Remus had replied, earning a laugh that resulted in many looks thrown their direction.

Dumbledore had arrived first, curtailing any mingling as he stood at the head of the table with a grave expression. 

"Thank you, friends, for being here. I know too well what each of you risks simply by attending," he began.

"We'd risk more by shoving our heads in the sand," Moody growled, to nods and murmurs of agreement.

Dumbledore gave a small smile to this, before returning to solemnity. "I agree, but as we know the Ministry does not. Unfortunately I, and all of Hogwarts, are now under intense scrutiny - whilst Lord Voldemort is free to rally his forces with relatively little fear of discovery.  We are here to change that."

"Right now our primary focus is intelligence - we must discover all that we can of any plans which Voldemort is creating. Some of you, I have already approached with my orders."

"I have good reason to believe that one of his most urgent focuses is Harry Potter. The boy's safety has been my priority since his birth, especially after that dreadful night." A hush filled the room, a moment of silence, many of them had known Lily and James personally. There were also strong reactions to hearing that he was targeting Harry, particularly from Minerva, Rubeus, and Sirius.

"At the end of term, Harry will again be returning to his aunt and uncle's residence. The purpose of today's meeting is to create a plan to have at least one Order member watching him at all times. We will also put together an emergency plan in case he needs urgent extraction."

With that introduction finished, they began discussing availability and options. There were a few grumbles about certain peoples' reliability, particularly Mundungus's. Though a few remarks were made about Remus that led the werewolf to again kick Sirius's shin to keep his mouth shut. Dumbledore dismissed all of these, and Remus was shocked to hear the old wizard firmly insist that Remus was vital for the guard to collect Harry - as he was the one Harry would most immediately trust.

By the end of the meeting, Sirius was digging his fingers into Remus's knee, feeling utterly useless to be unable to do more than sit around and hope. Not allowed to go and fight, to actively assist in protecting his godson or anyone that he cared about.

Chapter Text

Tonks, as she adamantly insisted she be called, pulled Remus to the side once the meeting ended.  In fact he was rather aggressively yanked from his chair moments after Dumbledore dismissed them, causing Sirius to laugh and wave them off. 

He frowned at her, particularly her hair which he had been rather certain was purple when she'd come in - yet had now gone pink. 

"You've got to tell me how to behave around Harry Potter," she said urgently once she'd gotten him cornered.

"Do I now?" he asked vaguely, still quite confused. He'd lost sight of Sirius which gave him an uneasy feeling, and he wasn't terribly keen to give a member of the Black family information on the boy. While Dumbledore and Sirius both seemed fond enough of her, that wasn't in itself proof enough for him.

"Oh, please, Siri said you know him best and I don't want to make a complete tit of myself in front of him," Tonks said, taking his hand in both of hers and shaking it. 

"Siri," Remus snorted, then stared as her hair went from bubblegum pink to a perwinkle blue, "what-?"

Tonks rolled her eyes and huffed, taking her hands back to cross her arms over her chest, "I'm a metamorphmagus. Honestly, hasn't my cousin told you anything about me?"

"Er, well, just that your mother is his favorite cousin," he said uncomfortably, "But, well, I know how he feels about his other cousins."

The young woman's face went bright red and her eyes widened with a mix of anger and horror before she clapped a hand to a forehead, "Well no wonder you're staring at me like I've got a second head! I've been helping with this place and he talks so much about you I've half called you uncle a few times- I can't believe he's not said anything about me."

"If he's your cousin, why do I get 'uncle'?" Remus asked with a chuckle, shaking his head, "He barely talks about anything going on over here - I imagine it isn't personal. He just, well, hates this house." 

"So do I, I can't believe mum’s from the same family as this lot," Tonks agreed, wrinkling her nose, "Wish headquarters could be somewhere more pleasant - like an active slaughterhouse."

"Alright, then, what do you mean about behaving around Harry?" he asked kindly, feeling more comfortable.

Tonks brightened at that, her hair returning to its shocking shade of pink, then she looked incredibly sheepish and scratched her hair nervously, "I'm just so clumsy and excitable and I don't know what he's like - do I have to be formal? I'm terrible at that, but he's practically wix royalty."

"I suggest telling him that when you get a chance, his response will be quite telling," Remus said, shaking his head with a smile, "He's just a teenage boy. I imagine, at your age, you're much more aware of what teenagers find cool than I am."

"You say that now - but how's he going to react when I accidentally knock over the most expensive thing in the house?" she groaned.

"That house? He'll be amused if not delighted, perhaps a bit disappointed when you repair it."

"Really?"

"I am sure that you and Sirius can come up with suitable repercussions if I'm proven to be lying," he suggested amiably, "Are you feeling better about meeting him now? I need to make sure your cousin isn't getting into trouble."

"From what my mum says - you'll have your hands full with that!" Tonks said with a hearty laugh, waving him off as she made her way to the hallway and out the door.

A few members of the Order were still milling around, discussing things quietly amongst themselves. The Hogwarts professors appeared to have left. Moody gave him an odd sort of smile, which was surprising. Most people responded to him politely, unaware that his hearing was amplified by lycanthropy and he could pick up their whispered remarks after he passed. He supposed it was progress.

Mundungus in particular seemed to be looking for an excuse to loiter, and Remus leaned over to softly remind him to return Sirius's belongings before he left. Something protective and territorial had flared in him when he'd noticed the thefts, although he imagined Sirius would have gifted the man nearly anything in the house just to get it away.

His stomach squirmed uneasily. He hadn't spent long with Tonks, and really there was no reason to think anything was amiss. There were plenty of people in the Order that Sirius would be delighted to catch up with, or at least have a good chat with.

Then he heard the familiar voices coming from behind the closed door of the sitting room. No one else would have noticed it, the Black family apparently valued privacy and voices didn't travel terribly well through a shut door.  It was only his enhanced ears that let him catch it. 

A grimace covered his face, irritated that Sirius had let himself be goaded so soon after their conversation. He took a few slow breaths and fixed back on a neutral expression before opening the door as quietly as he could.

It wasn't even a surprise when he found both men with wands out, looking about to duel.

Remus got their attention with a sharp Expelliarmus - catching the wands easily and giving them both a disappointed look.  Snape looked at him with a murderous glare. Several emotions passed over Sirius’s face - rage, recognition, shame, settling on irritation. 

"Lupin," Snape ground out between his teeth, smiling sinisterly, "After the anti-werewolf legislation I'm shocked you're brave enough to brandish a wand against me. Itching for a silver cage, are you?"

Remus ignored him. Thankfully Sirius was closer to the door, and before either man could say anything else - Remus had dropped Snape's wand to the floor and grabbed firm hold of Sirius, apparating him out of the room with a loud crack!

—

Once the sensation of apparition cleared, they were standing in the overgrown garden and facing the cottage door. The summer sun was still shining high in the sky despite the late hour, and the almost pastoral atmosphere was at such a stark contrast with their moods that it seemed nearly mocking.

Neither of them moved or spoke. Remus still had both his and Sirius's wands clutched in one hand, the other wrapped tightly around the man's arm. He hadn't looked at his face since he dropped Snape's wand, and he wasn't sure how to handle whatever he would find there. 

Finally, he slipped his own wand up his sleeve and held Sirius's out to him. When there was no move to take it, he glanced at the man's face. It was an expression he remembered from Hogwarts when they'd been caught in something that made McGonnagal particularly disappointed. Glaring ahead of him, a mixture of defiance and shame.

"I'll put the kettle on," Remus said heavily, feeling so very tired. 

Sirius made a jerky movement at that, glaring at him, "That's it? You nick my wand and drag me home like a naughty child, and all you've got is 'I'll put the kettle on'?"

"I would very much like some tea right now, yes."

"So we just sit there, drinking tea, pretending things are normal, when I know you want to scold me about how I should have let it go when the bastard threatens to put you in a bleeding cage!"

Remus shook his head, "I'm not afraid of Severus - I'm afraid of what you'll do if you let him goad you like this."

The rage was back in full force, "Because of one fuck up - and, yes, it was a collosal fuck up - it was also twenty years ago! When are you going to let that go?!"

"Sirius. I saw a man I don't trust pull a wand on you. I got you out safe then said I wanted a cup of tea and now you're shouting at me."

"You took my wand, too," he growled.

"You're a wanted criminal right now, so I'm not risking you hexing an unarmed man in the confusion." This felt like it would be easier with a warm cup in his hands. Sat down. Not standing outside in a glorious summer day that shining through Sirius’s hair. 

"My entire life is split between two safe houses right now - unless you're planning to invite the Ministry in-"

"There are aurors allowed in Grimmauld Place. Loyal to Dumbledore, not you."

"It's my house! I shouldn't have to put up with that tripe in a house I own!" Sirius snarled, ignoring the interruption, "We pulled our wands at the same time - should I just let him hex me?"

"You just walked in and he pointed his wand?" 

Sirius crossed his arms and glowered into the woods. 

A few minutes passed in silence and Remus sighed, rubbing his face, "I'm putting the kettle on."

— 

After the kettle boiled, Remus curled up on the couch and just breathed in the steam.  He gave himself a few minutes to just calm down, his nerves already frayed from the meeting and then smacked with yet another fight over Snape.  Maybe he should have just let them hex each other. The thought made him snort out a dark laugh. 

The cup was placed down, still full, and he stretched his limbs before making his way to the door.  He leaned against the frame and just watched the black haired man for amoment, still facing out to the woods and standing rigidly.

"Padfoot," Remus said sharply, "Come here."

Sirius glanced over his shoulder, "You can't just-"

Remus raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. Sirius glowered but walked over and leaned into Remus's shoulder.

They ended up curled up on opposite sides of the couch, legs overlapping. Remus had his tea and Sirius was still being too stubborn to take anything.

"Your cousin pulled me aside today," the werewolf said, "Think she'll be giving you an earful for not telling me about her." He sipped his tea, "I didn't expect Dumbledore to defend me like that, or to say I was someone Harry most trusted. Especially after what we did."

The rigidity finally left Sirius's shoulders and he looked down at his hands, "You really did just want to talk over tea."

"Mm," he replied, continuing to sip the tea, "I heard some remarks after Dumbledore left, but at least polite enough to think they were out of earshot."

"Think I'd have to go to Cornwall to get out of earshot from you," Sirius said with a chuckle, "Meeting alright, then?"

"Better than I expected, yeh."

"Aside from some tosser picking a fight and having to be dragged off by his boyfriend?" Sirius shifted now, leaning over and resting his head on Remus’s chest. Fingers carded through his long hair and he continued to relax more deeply.

"He also tried to crush my knee in his hand," he huffed out a laugh, "These meetings are going to be hard for you, aren't they?"

"I hate being useless, Moony. Spent twelve years in prison just to end up under house arrest - and in that nightmare of a house, may as well still be with the Dementors.”

They stayed there, curled up together in silence while they processed the events of the evening. The sun was finally setting, as much as it did at this time of year, casting long shadows across the room. 

"What were you going to say about what happened with Snape? If I hadn't snapped at you first?" Sirius finally asked, very quietly.

"I don't know," Remus said honestly, "I don't want to have the same argument - but every time you two have it out like that…" he took a shuddery breath and looked down into the dark grey eyes, "I'm afraid one day he'll goad you into destroying yourself, and this time I'll lose you for good."

“That won’t happen,” Sirius said firmly, kissing his jaw without getting in the way of the cup pressed to his lips.  Remus smiled sadly at him, thoroughly unconvinced but not willing to push the fight further.  There was already enough fighting ahead.

—

Ten days before the next full moon, Remus received a package of wolfsbane potion from Dumbledore. Specifically, it was signed off as “from Severus” in Dumbledore’s handwriting. This made Remus raise an eyebrow, somewhat amused by the old wizard’s attempts to force camradery.

“I don’t know how I feel about this, Pads,” Remus muttered, eyeing one of the vials.

“Think he’d poison it? Go get a bezoar, I’ll be on hand,” Sirius offered casually.

“No - I just don’t like feeling bribed,” he grimaced, “And I hate how inaccessible this is for nearly every other werewolf in Britain.”

“Bribed?”

“It doesn’t make up for the sort of things I had to go through last time - will likely have to go through again this time,” he grit his teeth, “It just feels like he’s buying absolution.”

“Does taking it help you feel better?”

“...yes…” Remus admitted reluctantly. The transformations were far easier and while he didn’t love feeling drugged, it was probably healthier to spend the night as a sleepy wolf rather than exhausting himself running through the night.

Sirius stood behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, “Alright, Moonbeam, if it’ll make you feel better about this whole mess - I can buy you an obscene amount of Wolfsbane to donate to whoever you think needs it and you can take some of that instead,” he grumbled, “I should have thought about getting it for you, really.”

Remus’s cheeks went pink, “It didn’t exist before you went to Azkaban - I don’t blame you for not realizing,” he cleared his throat, “It’s hard to get, anyways, you won’t be able to order any to arrive in time.”

“You’d be amazed what a Black can do,” Sirius smirked, then placed a kiss on his cheek, “But maybe you can just accept this as penance and we’ll figure out the donation options for next month?”

Remus sighed, “You’re right, pup, I shouldn’t read into it like that.”

“Hmm do we need to have a talk about your reaction to Dumbledore?” Sirius teased, “After all the grief you’ve given me about Snape?”

“I’m not daft enough to pull a wand on Albus Dumbledore!” Remus said with a laugh, “He could lay me out before I could even think of a spell.”

“No, you just get all broody and grumpy about it,” Sirius agreed, picking up a vial and looking at it, “Tell me how this works then - you still go furry, right?”

“Mhm, but the transformation is more mild and I keep most of my self control - it also makes me incredibly drowsy,” he explained.

“No running around then?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Warm enough to sleep outside, though,” Sirius mused, “might be nice.”

—

It was, in fact, very nice. After seeing dozens of the horrible, bone crunching and muscle tearing transformations that Remus usually went through - the wolfsbane potion seemed like a walk in the park. Not quite as easy as it was for an animagus, and Remus’s clothes didn’t transform with him.  He took them off just to avoid ripping and tangling them.

It was also the first time that Sirius had been able to safely be human around the wolf, something he quite delighted in. Moony wasn’t like Padfoot - not a happy, eager to please dog. The wolf exuded more wildness, not prone to wagging his tail or small happy noises.  Still, the wolf showed his affection, rubbing his muzzle and neck against Sirius and contenting himself to be petted and scratched under the chin and behind the ears.

The beast was clearly drowsy, though, looking half drugged and slightly woozy. While part of Sirius wanted to spend the entire night exploring this new situation, the wolf clearly needed rest and was soon curled up under the roots of a particularly large tree.  

Padfoot soon joined him, snuffling and nuzzling the friend he’d not been able to see in so, so very long. He hadn’t even been able to properly be there for Moony a year ago, too focused on ensuring the safety of the children to do more than chase the wolf back into the woods. It was the correct choice, of course, but he had also regretted not being able to run after Moony that night.

It was strange and new and lovely, to be able to curl up with the contented wolf and just sleep. No having to be alert in case somehow a person had wandered into the woods that evening, or stop the wolf from attacking himself, or have to patch the broken man back together after the transformation ended. 

Chapter Text

Since the initial conversation with Harry, they faced radio silence from the mirrors. They did manage to get a few short letters insisting everything was fine by owl. It left them both feeling slightly on edge, and the day of the court hearing saw them once again in Grimmauld Place's sitting room, filling it with nervous energy. 

"The filthy, traitorous son is back, bringing the werewolf scum with him," Kreacher muttered, causing both men to jump as they hadn't known he had come in, "what would my poor mistress-"

"Kreacher," Sirius interrupted with a harsh bark, glaring at him with fire, "Don't you ever-"

"Enough, Sirius," Remus insisted, quickly putting himself between his boyfriend and the house elf, placing a hand on either side of his face and holding his gaze.

"You can't defend…" Sirius growled, his face still contorted with rage.

"I can defend you from becoming the kind of bully you hate," Remus said firmly, continuing to look directly into the stormy grey eyes before softening, "We'll discuss this later, pup, just send him back on his way. He can't hurt either of us."

Sirius grimaced before tersely telling Kreacher not to come back into the sitting room until after they'd left. Fortunately the fireplace came alive with green flames before Sirius could say anything else on the matter.

Anisa was smiling warmly when she stepped out of the floo, and both Sirius and Remus finally relaxed.

"I won't stay long, I'm here to deliver the glad news that everything went perfectly," she held out a folder to Remus, "This contains all the legal documents you need to prove guardianship, with certified copies of each. I've also included the parchment versions that the Ministry prefers. Should you have any difficulties at all in practicing your rights as guardian in either the magical or muggle world, don't hesitate to contact my office."

With that she bid a quick farewell and disappeared back through the fireplace while Remus and Sirius were looking over the paperwork.  On top of the stack was a note with the visitation days Petunia had agreed to, and a note that Harry would be expecting to be picked up from his bedroom at 8am sharp the next day.

— 

They were both up quite early the next morning, after spending most of the night chiding each other about needing to sleep in between nervously discussing what it would mean to actually have Harry visiting for the day. 

Remus spent what Sirius considered a truly unreasonable amount of time fussing through his wardrobe, fretting over how Harry would respond to it being him instead of his godfather.

"Cor, Moonbeam, he's spent nearly a week in that miserable place - he'd probably be half relieved to have Voldemort himself show up," Sirius groused, picking a perfectly acceptable, slightly patched robe from the wardrobe and shoving it into the man's hands.

"That's not especially helpful, love," Remus snapped, begrudgingly pulling the clothes on.

"Telling you he'd be happy to see you hasn't worked, sugarbear, and I won't have you being late," Sirius drawled.

Remus glanced at the clock anxiously, it was still ten minutes before he was meant to pick up Harry, and he glowered back at Sirius. "I'm sorry we weren't all the star of the quidditch team."

"The first day we met, all he knew about me was I wasn't a murderer and he was eager to move in if it meant getting away from those muggles - you spent a year teaching him to do a patronus. You really think he likes me better?"

"Everyone has always liked you better," he grumbled. 

Sirius finally sighed heavily, taking him by the collar and pulling him close, "Well, you are my favorite and I am quite confident Harry will appreciate you very much. Now stop whining and go get our boy."

Remus grumbled slightly even as a kiss was placed to his cheek, watching the clock intently as the second hands counted down to the pick up time.

—

Harry Potter's bedroom was in a state. Nightmares had plagued his dreams ever since he'd left the hospital room, and the treatment by the Dursleys had only gotten even more dismal. Now cut off from the wix world, his only hope of catching any snippet of Voldemort was the muggle news, a desire which Vernon found particularly offensive.

This culminated in a lot of nervous energy and absolutely no desire to tidy anything.

The conversation he'd had with Sirius and Remus felt like a dream. Once it had ended and he'd gone back into the whispers and looks of the school, it had quickly felt distant. Then Ron and Hermione had given him almost no time to himself, which he appreciated but made it hard to find a chance to talk through the mirror. He'd heard rumors about Professor Lupin visiting the school with a black dog without taking the time to see Harry, and that only reaffirmed his suspicion it was too good to be true.

After the drive from King's Cross, the numbness that he first felt after returning from the cemetery had once again filled him. There were nothing from his friends and godfather except stilted letters with vague promises of 'soon' and gentle warnings that post may not be safe to share information in. The mirror lay forgotten at the bottom of his trunk.

The day before, his aunt had pulled him aside and shoved a sheet of paper into his hand while hissing threats about what would happen to him if his uncle ever found out. It was a visitation schedule - days that his aunt had agreed Professor Lupin could pick Harry up in the morning and return him in the evening. All days that Vernon was working, he noticed.

Even though he'd been told about it before, it still didn't feel real. Almost like a cruel joke. 

He had set his alarm for 7:50 and made the barest attempt to get dressed before the scheduled pick-up time and tried not to look at the clock.

Then a loud crack reverberated around the small room. He brandished his wand, before realizing that the wizard now standing in his room was, in fact, Remus Lupin, who he had seen through the mirror a few weeks ago. The man was dressed in robes that were just as shabby as ever, but he looked calm and even happy. It was strange to realize he'd never seen that before.

He lowered his wand, his hands shaking.

"No, Harry, that's a good instinct to have - in fact it's best if you could ask me something only I would know, as verification this isn't polyjuice," the professor said pleasantly.

"Um. Right," he looked down, feeling embarrassed about the state of his room and completely unable to formulate a question. Shame pricked at him.

"That's alright, we can work on it," Remus said gently as the silence began to stretch, "Ah, would it be alright if I gave you a hug?"

Harry looked at him in confusion then shrugged and nodded.  He was then wrapped in Remus's arms and he realized he hadn't been hugged like this since Mrs Weasley had left Hogwarts, since the night Cedric died and Voldemort came back and everything fell to ruin. No one had even touched him since he'd parted ways with Ron and Hermione at King's Cross. His whole body was shaking and his eyes were stinging and he internally cursed himself for being in such a state.

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

The words didn't make sense, what did Lupin have to apologize for?

"You never should have had to come back here right after what happened. Certainly not alone. Really you never should have been abandoned here, to these people. It's taken us far too long to figure out how to help you, and for that I hope you can forgive us," the man continued softly, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He refused to cry. At some point he realized that his arms had wrapped around the wizard, hands balled tightly in his robe as if he were the only lifeline left, and he hated himself for acting so foolish but couldn't stand to let go, either.

"Now, I would say that you don't have to come with me," Lupin said wryly, "but your godfather is currently pacing a hole in my rug and will storm in himself if he can't see you."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Harry grinned, pulling away and rubbing at his face. 

"Would you like me to tidy up this mess, or is this how you like it?" Remus asked airily, glancing at the room.

"Er," Harry said, his face hot, "I didn't think you'd actually come… or I would have…" he started grabbing up parchment until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand, Harry, let me handle it," he insisted gently, taking out his wand and beginning to tidy. Soon his schoolbooks and parchment were neatly packed in his trunk, his clothes were cleaned and put away, and Hedwig's cage was spotless. 

"Thanks," the boy mumbled. 

"You should bring your wand, Hedwig, and your broom, is there anything else you'd like to take with you?"

"My broom? Really?" Harry asked. Thanks to the tournament he had barely had a chance to fly even during the last year of Hogwarts.

"Yes, we're in a forest so not the ideal flying area, but will certainly do - and I daresay your owl will like to stretch her wings a bit."

Hedwig hooted her agreement. Harry tripped over himself, getting his things together.  Then he frowned, "How are we going to get there, professor, port key?"

"I'm not your professor anymore," Remus reminded him gently, "and side-along apparition. I imagine you haven't done it before." Harry shook his head. "It's an odd sensation. Here, give me Hedwig. Hold the Firebolt close to you, in a firm grip. Now take my arm."

Harry did, taking the offered arm uncertainly. He was excited, though, to be experiencing apparition after only seeing it. Then everything went back and he had the unpleasant experience of being forced through a very tight rubber tube.

—

The first thing Harry was aware of after the sensation passed was intense nausea. He didn't have time to do anything other than shove the Firebolt away from him as he doubled over and started vomiting. He hadn't even eaten yet, the contents of his stomach just a foul bile. 

A hand rubbed his back gently and he could feel a large dog leaning against his side. All he could do was continue retching up virtually nothing, feeling as if his body was trying to purge itself of the past weeks.

When it finally stopped, a cold glass of water was pressed to his hand and he drank it unsteadily as he collapsed against the black dog. By the time he opened his eyes there was no sign of the mess he'd just made, and Remus simply stood by with an understanding smile.

"The first time apparating can have that effect," he explained softly.

"Never seen it half as bad as that," Sirius grunted and Harry realized he was now leaning against the man's side and that his godfather had an arm wrapped around his shoulder.

"Yes, well, given everything he's been through recently, that's not surprising," Remus pointed out. He gave Harry a kind look, "If you think you can stomach it, I'll make you a cuppa, extra sugar."

Harry nodded, looking down at the glass in his hands, "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, mate," Sirius said with a chuckle, "Moony's had to clean up worse from your dad and I."

"Yes, like the time you thought it was a good idea to apparate while pissed - I had to deal with vomiting and splinching," Remus called over from the kitchen.

Harry snorted and shook his head. A cup of tea was offered to him. He took a sip of the hot, sweet liquid and felt his insides warm and his head clear.  

"Did you put a potion in this?" he asked, glancing at Remus.

"No, sometimes the muggle remedies are best," Remus replied lightly, giving him a strange look before shaking his head, "I had hoped that at least this simple kindness wasn't beyond your aunt and uncle."

Harry just grimaced at the reminder, wrapping his hands around the cup. It wasn't that he'd never had tea, of course, but was never allowed to put sugar in and only the barest amount of milk while Dudley would scoop spoonful after spoonful of sugar in. Making him a sweet cup of tea on a bad day was certainly beyond them.

"Mrs Weasley did this, and Madame Pomfrey, I always thought there was a potion in it when wix made it for someone upset," he mumbled. Sirius squeezed his shoulders gently at that.

As he continued sipping the tea, he finally looked around. He was sat in front of an old couch with a faded pattern, facing a fireplace. The room was open to the small kitchen, which had a table and two chairs pushed up against its wall. Every spare bit of wall was covered in tall shelves that were crammed with books and piles of parchment. Aside from the titles of the books, there was nothing that indicated a wizard lived there.

"Is this your house, then, professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it's an abandoned cottage I found some years ago and have so far successfully kept."

"He owns it now - and we've set up a Fidelius charm on it," Sirius added with a grin, letting go of Harry for the first time to stretch his back, "That's how I convinced him to get a fire going - prat used to just use warming charms all winter for fear of attracting attention."

Remus swatted him lightly and scowled, "Remind me again how many fires you sat around while running from the ministry for two years."

"I am wanted for escaping Azkaban, thank you very much, you're just a paranoid old goat," he replied with a huff, "As if werewolf hunters are skulking around the British countryside."

"There are werewolf hunters?" 

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance at Harry's question.  Sirius nodded sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, "Yeah… not officially or anything, but some wizards don't see werewolves as any better than wild animals and think they're doing the world a favor…"

"There's also dark magic that can be done with various werewolf body parts," Remus added bitterly.

"That's terrible," Harry said angrily, "Why doesn't the ministry stop it?"

"Officially it's illegal, but it's very easy for wix to convince the ministry it was self defense," the werewolf sighed heavily, "It's something Voldemort promises, that we'd be allowed to defend ourselves. At least against muggles and muggle borns and "blood traitors", which is more protection than we have now."

"Would it actually be better for werewolves, though?"

"Of course not. It's somewhat uncommon for purebloods to be bitten, which means most of us are what the Death Eaters consider undesirable - then any protection he offers is contingent on carrying out his orders. I'm quite confident that if Voldemort ever succeeded in taking over, werewolves would quickly find themselves being enslaved," Remus shook his head, "but when people are desperate- they'll accept any hope offered. And the Ministry has no interest in offering any."

"Do you know anything about what Voldemort has been up to? There hasn't been anything in the Prophet."

"You've been reading the Prophet?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow as Sirius made a jerky movement.

"Just the front page. It'd be front page news, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, I would hope so, there hasn't been anything worth reading really," Remus said, shaking his head.

"The Order'll know anything before the Prophet admits it," Sirius pointed out.

"The Order?" Harry asked, leaning forwards.

Remus rubbed a hand over his face and shot Sirius a look. "Fine, fine, but after breakfast. What would you like, Harry?"

—

Harry only asked for toast for breakfast, and was handed a plate piled with egg, sausage, tomato, and hash browns as well as a plate of toast and fruit bowl.

Remus casually remarked that if he really wasn't up to eating he shouldn't worry about it going to waste - "That's what we have a dog for," he said fondly, ruffling Sirius's hair.

Harry's godfather gave a bark-like laugh, "So that's why you keep me around, then!"

"You have been eating better," Harry remarked, "Your face is less, er…"

"Skull-like?" Sirius offered wryly and Harry nodded with a slight flush.

"It's thanks to his funds," Remus said, gesturing to Sirius, "These last few weeks, I think both of us have eaten better than we have since 1981." 

"You looked terrible on the train, when I first met you, professor," he looked down at his meal, "You said it can be hard to find work, because you're a werewolf."

"Aye, that's true," Remus agreed bitterly, "Not much to be done about it, though, and we've bigger things to worry about right now."

"Like snake-obsessed gits that want to kill off nearly everyone," Sirius agreed.

"Not to be indelicate."

"Me? Never," Sirius grinned broadly.

Harry just grimaced. 

"Sorry, mate, didn't mean to go too far," Sirius said gently, "I forgot how raw it must be for you."

"It's not that," the boy mumbled, "I just can't believe nothing is being done about it. Why isn't the Prophet publishing anything? Why isn't the Ministry taking steps to protect people? Don't they care?"

Remus rubbed his chin uncertainly, "You don't know what it was like during the war. People don't want to go through it again, and unfortunately… sometimes it's easier to believe a comfortable lie than to face a painful truth."

"Plus politicians aren't fond of upsetting the people who put them in power - they're holding off a mass panic as long as they can," Sirius said darkly, "Which is perfect for him - as long as he avoids any busy streets he can basically do what he likes, no one's looking out for him."

"Sometimes people make bad choices for what they believe to be good reasons," Remus said wearily. 

"But Cedric's dead - why isn't that enough? How many people have to die before they care?" 

"Too many."

The rest of breakfast was a quiet and somber affair. Harry still found himself cleaning his plate, the days of the Dursley's meager portions catching up with him, and he found he was feeling better than he had in what felt like a very long time.

"The Order, then," Harry insisted as Remus took his plate, "You promised."

"That you did, Moony!" Sirius called cheerily. 

"But first, we need to impress upon you how vital it is this information stays secret," the werewolf pointed out, "and how incredibly much trouble we'll be in with Dumbledore if he finds out about all of this."

"He's already mad that I made Remus secret keeper," Sirius said proudly.

"That's what Pettigrew was for my parents, right?"

Sirius's face soured at the reminder and he nodded, "To my eternal remorse, yes, but this isn't a repeat of that mistake."

"Then why is Dumbledore angry about it?"

"He'd wanted to be secret keeper for the order himself, but we went behind his back - see, if the secret keeper dies, then everyone they've told becomes a secret keeper, which means he now has a vested interest in keeping Remus alive."

"Do you really think that he'd just send Professor Lupin off to his death?"

"Most of the original Order didn't survive, and it's very easy to make the werewolf canon fodder."

"If it comes to it, we will lay down our lives to defeat Voldemort - and I believe Dumbledore would as well," Remus said gently, placing a hand on Sirius's shoulder.

"Ultimately, if he is prioritizing everyone's lives equally, it shouldn't matter that Remus is secret keeper," Sirius said with a forced casualness. 

Harry imagined for a moment how he would feel if he could do something to guarantee Ron and Hermione's safety. He wouldn't hesitate to do it, even if it meant defying Dumbledore. 

"I understand," he said firmly. The two men smiled at him.

"Alright, then, go ahead, Mr. Padfoot."

"With pleasure, Mr. Moony," Sirius said with a flourish of his hand before breaking into an explanation of the Order of the Phoenix- how it was a secret organization set up to fight Voldemort. It was tenuously being reestablished for a year, since Pettigrew's re-emergence and escape and the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup, and had been moving swiftly since Harry returned from the cemetery. 

"We aren't exactly being kept in the loop too much at the moment," Sirius finished, "My ancestral home is being used for the headquarters - so I imagine I'll end up hearing most of it."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's a bit like if you ended up under house arrest at Privet Drive after the Dursleys moved out," Remus explained.

"If the Dursleys were dark wizards whose family portraits could screech at you what a disappointment you are and had cursed objects that attacked people," Sirius grumbled.

Harry winced, "That sounds terrible."

"Just a bit."

"Which is why I've managed to convince Dumbledore that Sirius isn't needed there every single day right now, to give him a break and let the experienced aurors do the tougher clear outs without his griping," Remus mused.

"Forgetting half of everything in Azkaban helped with that," Sirius groused, "Nearly blew myself up mucking up a basic cleaning charm."

"So if you're interested in practicing remedial charms with your godfather…" Remus began before Sirius elbowed him.

"I can't practice magic during the summer, it's not allowed," Harry pointed out.

Remus and Sirius both chuckled at that before realizing he was being sincere. 

"The trace doesn't apply when there's adult wix in the near vicinity," Remus pointed out gently, "It's at their discretion whether to allow children to practice magic."

"I thought they just weren't allowed to," Harry said with a frown, "The Weasleys never do."

"I wouldn't allow Fred and George wand use in my home regardless of their age," Remus said, shaking his head. He caught Sirius's eye, "Imagine yourself and James at 15 - but identical twins."

Sirius broke into a broad grin and laughed at the thought, "Well I can't wait to meet them!"

"They're 17 now," Harry pointed out and Remus winced slightly at the thought. 

"Technically, no, you're not supposed to practice magic outside Hogwarts. You're also not supposed to be having tea with an escaped convict," Sirius pointed out with a smirk, "So we figured your obedience to Ministry law was… flexible."

"Is it safe?"

"We won't force you, but yes children in wix households have long practiced magic at home," Remus said before grimacing, "It's really an anti-muggle born law, which is likely part of why the Weasleys enforce it in their own home."

"So Malfoy probably spends his summers getting private tutoring to make sure he's on top of his lessons," Harry scowled.

"If he's anything like his father, that brat probably spends his summers hexing the house elf for fun," Sirius muttered, shaking his head, "They prefer throwing money at problems to doing actual work."

Harry thought back to Dobby and glowered. Then he glanced at Remus, "Professor - then you can actually teach me Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

"Er, yes?" Remus agreed, blushing, "Again - you can call me Remus, I'm not actually your professor anymore.

"I've been taught by a man with Voldemort in the back of his head, a fake who tried to wipe my memory, and a Death Eater who used the Imperius curse on us," Harry said, counting them off on his fingers impatiently, "You're the only competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher I've ever had, professor."

"He used what on you?" Sirius snapped.

"I actually did pretty well against it, and it came in handy against Voldemort," Harry said pleasantly, enjoying having an adult outraged for his well-being.

"Merlin…" Remus muttered, "What the hell is going on at that school?" He placed a hand on Sirius's arm to calm him down, "I do have the authority to intervene now, Harry, if something like that happens again."

"That might be nice," he said, "although I don't want to end up like Malfoy - he constantly threatens to tell his father about everything."

"'I'll sic a werewolf on you' does have a certain effectiveness," Remus laughed gently, "Don't say that of course, please."

"I won't," Harry said with a grin, "Although I'm tempted, just to see the shock when all you do is give them a stern lecture."

"I think I'd rather face down the wolf than deal with one of his 'I'm disappointed' speeches," Sirius said, pulling a face and Harry laughed.

"We also ought to teach him occlumency - unless we want Dumbledore to know everything we've done the second they're in the same room," Remus grimaced.  Harry tilted his head and Remus gave him a small smile. 

"There are two, related, kinds of magic - Legilimency, which is essentially mind reading, and Occlumency, which is essentially protection from Legilimency. Albus Dumbledore is one of the most skilled legilimens of our time."

"All those times it felt like he was seeing through me, then, he probably was?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"I hope not, he's also just quite skilled at reading people and has been working with teenagers for donkey's years," Sirius pointed out, clapping him reassuringly on the shoulder, "But, yeah, good to learn occlumency in general - it's wandless, too, so no risk. Helpful against Death Eaters as well."

Harry nodded, not feeling convinced but happy for the conversation to move on. His stomach lurched at the reminder of the looming war, that he had to seriously prepare to face Death Eaters and Voldemort himself coming after him. Before the conversation had felt like just a bit of mischief. He'd been sneaking behind Dumbledore's back since first year, after all. 

He wasn't sure how long he had sat there when Sirius finally got his attention, holding up the Firebolt and suggesting they go see outside.

—

Remus had not been exaggerating when he said they were in a forest. The cottage was situated in a small, slightly overgrown clearing but beyond that were trees. Harry quickly realized he couldn't hear the sounds of everyday life - no cars, no human activity whatsoever. Even when he'd made trips to the Forbidden Forest, he now realized that sounds from Hogwarts or Hogsmeade would sometimes reach him. This forest was alive with birdsong and the rustling of leaves and animals.

"It's a muggle forest so quite safe. You'll be able to tell when you come to our wards - they're like a semi-see through wall. Don't go any farther than that. We cannot guarantee your safety if you do," Remus had warned him severely.

"We've got enough space warded off for the wolf to run free," Sirius said with a grin, "Should be plenty."

Harry nodded and mumbled an awkward thanks before climbing on his broom. He hadn't ridden it since the first task, facing the Horntail. He had missed it, missed Quidditch, being on the team and able to laser focus in on the snitch. Flying through the forest wasn't the same as the thrill of the game, though it presented its own challenges.

He didn't dare go above the treetops too often, the risk of being seen was too great. Which meant having to weave around branches and trunks and the occasional boulder or abandoned stone building. The terrain was unfamiliar and ever changing, as soon as he felt confident enough to speed up he'd find himself in a denser area. 

Occasionally he would fret that he'd gotten himself lost, but a very quick peak above the trees and he'd easily be able to find the smoke curling from the cottage.  This also let him see just how large the forest was, how far they were from anything. It was a strange sensation. The Dursleys had certainly never taken him camping, he'd spent his life in and around London or at Hogwarts. 

The feeling of the wind in his hair, the broom underneath him, flying through the air was still as thrilling as it had been the first time. Then, when he got sufficiently far, he found himself screaming. Shouting and sobbing and cursing, landing and pummeling his fists against tree trunks.

There was no one to see him and look with pity in their eyes. No one to ask if he was okay - when it felt like he'd never be okay again. No one to offer some trite sympathy or comfort that he'd have to seem grateful for because otherwise guilt would gnaw at him as well.

At first it felt like a storm was ripping through his chest and skin and he might destroy himself trying to get it all out. He howled in fury and terror and grief, cursing the feelings and himself and Voldemort and the Dursleys and every single person he'd ever met. 

Then… the storm began to pass. The heaving sobs turned into more gentle tears and he found himself sitting on the ground, hugging his knees to his chest while he cried into them. 

Those tears dried as well and he leaned back against the tree, using his sleeves and shirt to wipe his face. He felt spent, but also a bit lighter. 

The glowing image of a dog bounded into his vision before he heard Sirius's voice. "Lunchtime, whenever you're ready, yeh?"

He gave a small smile as the patronus vanished, taking another moment to breathe in the summer air before picking up his Firebolt to head back.

—

The rest of the day was less eventful. Listening to music from Remus's record collection and occasionally chatting but mostly just chilling out. Harry found that there was a comfort in the easy banter between the two men. Molly and Arthur had sometimes had that, but often they were either busy dealing with something to do with their children or Molly was griping at him about his latest project of muggle technology.

He wondered if this were what life had been like when his parents were alive - did they have the same easy companionship? Just spend afternoons lounging with their friends? It reminded him of the time he spent with Ron and Hermione when they didn't have anything else to do and he'd listen to Ron and Hermione bicker over something or other. Rare but lovely.

The time to go back to Privet Drive came all too soon, vital as it apparently was that he be there before Vernon arrived. He was given sandwiches, Sirius remembered the letters last year about him being starved, and Remus left him in the small bedroom with an apology and promise to be back.

With a heavy sigh he crept out of the room and down the stairs, where Petunia was cooking dinner. She saw him and scoffed, quickly snapping at him to stop standing there and help.  

He managed to withhold a sigh, picking up the potato peeler as she continued complaining about him.

Chapter Text

The next morning was easier. They actually managed to get something resembling a respectable amount of sleep. Then Remus agreed to just let Sirius pick an outfit for him to avoid the agonizing.  They ended up spending about fifteen minutes just watching the clock hands move torturously slowly before it was finally time for him to pop off.

Fortunately Harry's room was still tidy, he'd even managed to make his bed with Remus took as a good sign. The boy still looked both surprised and relieved to see him, as if he wouldn't be there. It was a look that made Remus's stomach squirm with guilt and regret for what the boy's life had been for too long. He'd been born into both love and affluence, yet had known neither. 

"Ready, then?" Remus asked with a smile, taking Hedwig's cage in hand and offering his arm.  Harry smiled back, gripping his broomstick and a bag he'd packed, and soon they were back in front of the cottage's fireplace. His stomach churned again but there was no vomiting this time.

After a moment passed and he steadied himself, two paws pressed against his shoulder as Padfoot gently jumped up, tail happily wagging. He grinned back, petting the furry head. Every time he'd seen his godfather like this before, the dog had been filthy and matted. Now the fur was silky. Further proof of how much better he was doing now.

"Harry- I wanted to ask if there's muggle snacks you like. For the days you have to stay there, I want to make sure you have food and wix food can be a bit…" Remus waved his hand, his voice nervous.

Harry looked up at him with surprise, "You don't have to do that."

"Weren't asking if we had to, mate," Sirius insisted with a laugh, ruffling his hair. 

"Oh, er, I'm not sure, anything is fine."

Remus pursed his lips and a dark expression crossed Sirius's face. It was quickly replaced by a lopsided grin and he leaned into Remus.

"You know, Moony, the best way to make sure you get what you like is to just take him to the shop."

"Sirius, it's not safe… Dumbledore'll have our guts for garters if we get attacked by Death Eaters in a bleeding Tesco," Remus hissed.

"As if any self respecting Death Eater would be seen in a muggle shop! Just do some transfiguration, apparate to one well away from London, we'll only be gone an hour or two," Sirius insisted, pulling out the puppy dog eyes, "I haven't gotten the chance to properly spoil my godson in fourteen years…"

"You want to go, too?" Remus moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Can we?" Harry asked eagerly, "Transfiguration - with disguises it wouldn't be a big deal, right? No one else would know."

"Everyone thinks he's currently stuck with those ghastly people," Sirius added cheerily, "No way are Death Eaters going to be monitoring a muggle shop out in Leeds or summat."

Remus took a sharp breath through his nose and glowered at the both of them, "I will agree to this one outing if you both swear that you won't ask for another one." He fixed his gaze pointedly at Sirius. "It is not worth endangering Harry's safety."

"The boy needs food, Moony, they starve him!"

"Which is the only reason I'm agreeing- do you swear?" 

"Yes, blimey, need me to make an Unbreakable Vow over it?" Sirius huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't tempt me," Remus said mildly.

"It's alright if we can't," Harry said quietly, "Anything is fine, really, I'm used to worse over the summer."

At that Remus's face softened and he gave Harry a warm smile, "Have you ever had your looks transfigured before?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes again wide with excitement.

"It feels a bit tickly, Sirius will go first to show you."

—

By the time Remus was done, all of their looks had been changed. They weren't massive transformations, small tweaks were the least likely to fail, least likely to be noticed, and were enough to avoid recognition.

Sirius's hair was the most obvious change - short and an auburn brown. He was already quite different to his wanted photos thanks to a healthy diet and access to hygiene, but a few small changes to his bone structure left him looking quite unlike himself.

For Harry, his glasses were the biggest change. From the thin, round frames to chunky angular ones. Then Remus had taken more time on his face, which had been plastered all over the Daily Prophet thanks to the Triwizard Cup, and gave him curly, light brown hair that was just shaggy enough to get in his eyes.

"Wear this as well," Remus instructed, handing him a beanie style cap, "Keep it over your forehead. Glamours can fade and it's vital no one sees that scar."

For himself, Remus focused on removing the scars and darkening his hair. It was always odd for him to transfigure himself, it never came out in a way that felt right and it was unsettling to watch his face change in the mirror.  He grimaced as the spells took their effect.

"You might like to ask my cousin for some tips on transfiguring yourself," Sirius suggested with a smirk, stretching behind him to get a look at his new face in the small bedroom mirror, "This'll do, though, not too shabby."

"Yes I imagine she's quite proficient," Remus agreed with a sigh, scrunching his nose and turning away, "I don't recall you being any better with it."

"Why mess with perfection?" 

They both went out to the sitting area where Harry was waiting for them, brushing at the curls that kept tickling his eyebrows. 

"This is weird," Harry muttered, "We used polyjuice- but they both had short hair."

"Polyjuice?" Sirius asked brightly.

Harry flushed, "Oh, er, right, in second year Hermione made polyjuice potion so we could find out if Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin."

"Boy after my own heart, Moony," Sirius said, placing his hand to his chest dramatically.

"Your James's son alright," Remus said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head, and Harry grinned up at them.

"Ah - we need to discuss names. 'Remus' and 'Sirius' are simply too rare to safely use while out like this," Remus said, returning back to the matter at hand, "I usually go by John - it's my middle name and incredibly common."

"I can do 'Pat', sounds like Pads," Sirius said amiably. 

"I used 'Neville' when I ran away in third year, but that's not a common muggle name," Harry said with a thoughtful frown.

Remus rolled his lips together and hesitated for a moment as a memory came back.  "When you were very small," he said quietly, "We used to call you Haz."

"Really? Did my parents?"

"Course. Also Prongslet? Am I making that up?" Sirius asked, with a slightly lost expression. 

"That's right," Remus said with a small laugh, "That was your favorite nickname for him - I think Lily came up with Haz."

They were silent for a moment, Sirius and Remus remembering their lost friends and Harry marveling at this new piece of information. He had never had a nickname, the Dursleys had sneered at him about how horrible his name was - perfectly unsuitable for nicknames and nastily common. He remembered the ache of jealousy he used to feel when his aunt and uncle said 'Dudders' with such love.

His parents had had nicknames for him. Said with just as much love. The thought warmed him, although he was sure he'd be sobbing over it that night. 

"That'll be good, for today at least," he said finally, his cheeks pink, "Will we apparate there, then?"

"I think that's safest," Remus said with a nod, "I know a place that's safe to apparate to in Manchester, near the shops."

"Big city? Thought you'd want to stick somewhere quiet," Sirius mused, raising an eyebrow.

"It's easier to be invisible in a big city - somewhere small and it's easier to notice we're out of the ordinary," Remus explained, pulling a travel bag over his shoulder and offering an arm to each of them, "Shall we, then?"

—

Harry was getting much better with the side-along apparition, only stumbling slightly when the world reappeared around him. They were in an alley behind a restaurant that was already playing loud music. Remus motioned for them to walk and they were turning the corner and mingling into the street traffic when they heard a door open to check the noise.  

Once they'd gone a block, Remus touched both their shoulders to slow them down, "It's better to take a leisurely pace. Look into the shop windows, that kind of thing."

From the look on their faces, Christmas had come early. Remus smiled, hanging slightly back as Sirius led his godson in checking things out. 

Sirius was enamored with the music shops, of course, eyeing the instruments with longing and raising his eyebrows at the posters of Boyzone and New Kids On the Block. Harry tilted his head at them, never allowed to have his own music. Petunia kept the radio to some awful celebrity gossip and he'd occasionally hear Dudley blasting something in his own room that Harry could never really make out.

"No way, Prongslet, you are not making your ears bleed with that crap," Sirius had insisted when Harry asked about the boy bands, "John here has all the good ones, right?"

"I'm sure he'll appreciate being thoroughly indoctrinated into 70s music," Remus said with a chuckle, "I also have the half dozen or so albums Bowie's released since '81."

The noise Sirius made in response made Harry laugh in amusement.  

A block down was a comic book shop. This time Harry was the one to stop and look in with awe at the images of dynamic heroes in colorful costumes.  Another thing he hadn't really been allowed. Dudley certainly wouldn't engage in a hobby that required reading. The school library had had some, but not many. Occasionally, Harry would manage to make a friend who would share comics with him, before Dudley noticed and bullied them away.

Behind him, Sirius and Remus exchanged a look and were soon ushering him to the shop despite stammered objections that it really wasn't necessary.

"When I was a child, before secondary school, I used to read comics a lot," Remus said, looking over the titles with a fond smile, "With my condition, I kept to myself and these helped give me a place to escape."

Harry watched him for a few moments before turning back to the bright covers and nodding, "The Dursleys never let me have them, or books. The school librarian took pity on me - but I had to be so careful if I took anything with me because Dudley would rip them up."

"I am sorry. I didn't have the resources to be able to help you," Remus said, "I did try."

"Yeah?" He didn't look up.

The werewolf smiled sadly, "You saw the state I was in, back on the Hogwarts Express - I looked worse in the years after your parents died. The Dursleys of course assumed I was some vagrant. Had the police called on me the times I tried visiting you."

"I'm sorry."

"These were some of my favorite," Remus said, pulling out a cover, "They're a team of heroes with powers that make people see them as freaks, but they still save them."

Harry leaned over to look at the cover that boldly read 'X-Men'.  He took the book and flipped through it, curious about the different designs. 

"We can get that, and a few more, if you'd like, keep them safe at ours," Sirius reminded them both, looking over his godson's shoulder before leaning to whisper in Remus's ear, "Why have I never seen these?"

Remus flushed, "They're childish and muggle - I left them at my parents', and they ended up lost in a move."

Sirius frowned at him, before going and asking the young woman behind the counter if she knew which the best X-Men books were. 

They left the store with an enviable stack of books, which they ducked around the corner to shove into Remus's travel bag - which fortunately had an extension charm on it.

— 

The grocery store was only a block away, at the corner of a large intersection, and they made it in without any other interruptions. Of course, the supermarket itself was full of distractions. Sirius was delighted by all the new things to explore, and his enthusiasm quickly inspired Harry to look at it all with as much excitement.

Remus felt his stomach clench at the whole experience. A lifetime of having to carefully plan out every shop, adding up prices in his head and forgoing things he couldn't afford had made supermarkets a somewhat unpleasant experience. His mother had always done her best not to let it seem like a problem, and the lessons she taught him in budgeting had helped him survive. Still, he remembered her face when he would beg for some small indulgence that they simply couldn't afford.

It was unnerving to watch Sirius fill the cart with abandon, not even glancing at the prices because he knew he had more than enough in his pocket.

It was good, of course. Good that Harry would have more than enough to eat on the days that they couldn't help him. Good that Harry finally got to experience this, he should have spent his whole life with enjoyable and massive shops with Lily and James where his requests were never over budget. Good that Sirius was so insistent on helping Remus, and his own pantry was finally full.

It was good, really, he just felt a bit nauseous and guilty when he passed someone who was eyeing the prices the way he knew all too well.

A hand touching his shoulder made him jump, and he glanced up to realize Sirius was standing next to him with a questioning look.  

Remus just shook his head, “Later,” he nodded towards Harry, “This is too important, it can wait.”

“Alright, Moonbeam,” Sirius murmured softly, taking his arm and leading him over to where Harry was looking through all the different flavors of crisps.

Chapter Text

The trip back was thankfully less eventful. All three of them were focused on enjoying some of the sweets they'd bought and the shops were no longer as novel.  They ducked behind the same alley and soon were back in the cottage with Remus and Sirius undoing the transfigurations and explaining how to perform the spells as they did. 

After a good amount of their haul had been tasted, and the rest securely placed in Remus's travel bag for Privet Drive, Harry looked over at Remus.

"Professor? Can you tell me more about Occlumency? How do I learn it?"

Remus flushed slightly to be asked, sitting up straighter in his chair, "You mentioned that last year you had the Imperius curse used on you, it is somewhat similar to how you resist that."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the memory and frowned. Sirius shifted to sit next to Harry, putting a protective hand on his shoulder.

"While the Imperius takes away control of your actions, legilimency allows someone to access your thoughts and memories," Remus continued, "Occlumency is the practice of protecting yourself from these invasions. It can also help you resist Veritaserum."

"Legilimency can be used without you knowing," Sirius added bitterly, "When someone is proficient enough they can cast the spell silently and wandlessly. Practicing Occlumency helps build your defenses."

"Is that something you two can do? Legilimency?" Harry asked quietly.

"I've always been rubbish at it, Moony used to be pretty decent," Sirius replied, glancing over at the tawny haired man.

"It's been necessary for my survival, I mainly use it to tell if someone has realized my condition or intends me harm," he said quietly, meeting Harry's gaze, "I have never used it on you."

The boy let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay. Good. How do I do it, then?"

"The simplest explanation is to clear your mind of emotions," Remus explained with a lopsided smile.

"I keep feeling numb, so that shouldn't be hard," Harry muttered darkly.

"Oh, mate," Sirius murmured, his thumb rubbing a small circle on Harry’s arm. 

Remus's face softened and he shook his head, "That's not unexpected, after what you've been through, unfortunately it isn't a protection - the emotions are still underneath and those are what would need to be cleared."

Harry felt his hands tighten into fists as the last weeks played in his mind once again. The looks and mutters, the nightmares, the Dursleys' cruelty and his friends' refusal to write more than vagaries. Just clear his mind? Like it was that easy?

"I believe you've found a flaw in this teaching method?" Remus asked gently. Harry glowered, confused and feeling mocked.  "You see, Harry, the problem is that humans are meant to have our emotions - they do not take kindly to being bottled up and shoved away. When someone is going through an especially difficult time, as you are, attempting to do so will only cause more harm and leave the person more vulnerable."

With those words the rage seemed to deflate like a balloon.  He felt ashamed at reacting so strongly and looked down at his hands. 

"What should I do, then?"

"For attacks which you know are coming - your proficiency with the patronus will come in handy. Replacing the thoughts you wish to hide with a happy memory, similar to how you must respond to a dementor."

"Is that why I was able to resist the Imperius curse?"

"I believe so, yes," Remus replied with a fond smile, "It is also valuable to learn how to manage your emotions - not to control or hide or change, mind you. Sadly it is not possible to be happy all the time, attempting to do so will only cause more issues."

"I don't understand."

"Neither did I," Sirius said with a sheepish laugh, running a hand through his hair as he thought back, "When I was your age - I spent a lot of time angry. Lashing out at people and throwing myself into self destruction."

"We all did, to some degree, the first war was raging outside the castle walls," Remus agreed, shaking his head, "The things I've learned to handle my emotions, they took me many years and harsh lessons to master."

"Last year was hard - but ever since the cup-" Harry cut off and closed his eyes, his breathing becoming shuddery as he remembered. 

To his surprise, there was only silence.  The hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze, but beyond that there was nothing. No reassurances he was okay or requests for him to carry on.  He found himself waiting, certain that eventually one of them would clear their throat or otherwise prompt him. 

When that didn't happen, he felt his shoulders loosen and his breathing ease. 

"Ever since the cup - I keep having terrible nightmares, and I hated the way people looked at me with pity, and now the Dursleys…" he glared at the faded rug. Sirius made a strangled noise and stiffened next to him, but managed to otherwise stay still. "Then it just all goes numb and it's all pointless."

Sirius shot an irritated look at Remus, who responded with a pointed glare. He softened his expression before speaking again, "It's more than anyone should have to face. It's painful, of course, and anyone who has gone through that would be struggling."

"I don't know if I could even summon a patronus right now, even if it weren't for the trace, I just feel useless."

Sirius pulled him into a hug then, "You're not here to be useful," he said harshly, "You don't need a use, you don't need to earn your place here or prove anything."

Remus came over to stand behind the couch they were sat on, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Teaching you Occlumency is not about being of use - but keeping you safe."

"But I need to be able to do it to protect other people, too, you said if Dumbledore found out…"

Remus and Sirius exchanged a guilty look. 

"That isn't your burden to carry, we shouldn't have put it on you," Remus said, "It also is your choice to tell him, if you feel the need."

"What would happen if I did?"

"Well he will find a way to force you to stay with your aunt and uncle if he didn't feel it was safe enough," Sirius said, pulling away and scratching his cheek.

"Oh. Is it safe enough?"

"You wouldn't be here if we didn't think so."

"I don't fancy angering him if we can avoid it," Remus added, "He's a powerful man and times are difficult enough. If he considers us a risk and untrustworthy," he shook his head, "I don't know what would happen and am not keen to find out." He gave Harry a small smile, "And that is on us to figure out - if you feel Dumbledore needs to know, Sirius and I will handle the consequences and won't be angry with you."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Will it hurt? The Legilimency?"

"It can be unpleasant to have someone digging into your mind. Otherwise, no."

"Okay, I want to try, then."

— 

The summer weather was hot, but the shade of the forest made the temperature comfortable. There was a clearing not too far from them that Remus insisted would be perfect for teaching and practicing magic. Sirius laughed that Moony kept insisting the 'fresh air and sunlight would do him good' and was just making an excuse, but they still ended up in the clearing standing under an old oak. 

"This definitely cannot set off the trace, right?" Harry asked nervously, fiddling with his wand.

"It's practicing magical resistance, not casting, so it can't. If you'll feel better you can give the wand to Sirius," Remus assured him.  Harry bit his lip and decided any risk of his godfather being taken back to Azkaban wasn't worth it, handing the wand over. 

"Alright - Sirius, you can demonstrate so he knows what it looks like," Remus said.

Sirius smirked at him, and Remus just gave a long suffering sigh before taking his wand out and waving it with, "Legilimens!"

Nothing appeared to happen, aside from Remus's forehead creasing and a grimace crossing his face while his cheeks went pink. He shook his head and massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers, "Honestly, Padfoot."

Harry gave his godfather a questioning glance and the man gave a loud bark of laughter. 

"Like he said, with practice you can decide what to put at the forefront of your mind, throw them off," he said cheerfully.

"So that's it? I didn't see anything happen."

"I'm not really averse to Moony seeing into my mind, so it wasn't unpleasant. Then, yeah, it's just as easy as that, nothing to worry about here."

"Should I try to do that, then? Put something else at the front of my mind?" Harry asked, looking at Remus who had regained his composure.

Remus shook his head, "No, don't get in your head about it," his mouth twitched slightly at the pun, "Right now experiencing it will help you to recognize and react to the sensation - similar to the Imperius curse, focus on resisting. If you had your wand you could use spells against me, but for now focus on resisting."

Harry nodded, and then the same spell was cast - this time pointed towards him. 

It was an odd sensation. The clearing faded and he found himself falling into his memories. Setting the snake loose at the zoo… Hagrid taking him away from the Dursleys… Catching the snitch for the first time… The Sorting Hat telling him he would do well in Slytherin…

That reminded him of what was happening, someone was looking into these memories, he tried to focus on nothing, to identify the intruder and shove it out, to find some way to force this to end.

Another memory started tugging, he couldn't tell what it was and instead focused as hard as possible on the pages of muggle newspaper he had read that morning. There had been a bombing in France the day before, he'd paid particular attention to it in case there was any sign of magical interference. He did his best to remember the headline and photo, but it felt like a tug of war in his head - other memories were trying to come to the forefront while he tried to hold the news article. 

As the struggle continued his head began pounding, memories of the times his scar had hurt rushed in and he felt himself shouting and his knees hitting the ground roughly.

He became aware of the clearing again. The gentle, warm summer breeze and dappled sunlight filtering through lazily rustling leaves.

Sirius hand was on his shoulder again. "You alright?"

He nodded then looked up, they were both crouching next to where he had dropped to his knees. His head was in his hands and he pulled them away sheepishly, feeling embarrassed.

"You did quite well, especially for your first try," Remus told him with a warm smile.

"It took me a minute to remember what I was supposed to be doing," he admitted, looking away, "Then I didn't really know what to do."

"The process of resisting is very difficult to describe," Remus agreed.

"At the end - the memories of my scar hurting - was that you?"

Remus shook his head, "I did my best to stick to happier, casual memories. It seems resisting led to a headache, which triggered the strong memories of when your head had hurt in the past."

"Will that happen every time?" 

"That's just how our minds work - and a skilled legilimens will know how to use it to their advantage."

The process felt impossible, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. Resisting it would cause him to end up losing the ability to resist it. What could go wrong?

"How did you get the idea of remembering the newspaper article?" Remus asked, bringing his attention back to the present.

"It's what I did when Aunt Marge came to visit and I had to be on my best behavior so my uncle would sign the Hogsmeade permission slip," he said dully, then smiled bitterly, "It didn't work out great then, either."

Both of the men made the reaction that Harry was realizing was their response to his stories about life with the Dursleys. He appreciated it, the visceral kneejerk that confirmed things were as bad as, deep down, he'd always suspected they were. 

"It's not a terrible defence, really. Memorizing something boring may do better - a chapter from your History of Magic book, for example."

"I prefer to go for shock value, disturb them so they regret trying to get in," Sirius suggested with a wink. 

"Yes, which is why he's never been terribly successful with it," Remus drawled. Sirius gave an overly dramatic gasp in response.

"I'd like to try again. Is there anything else I can do to fight it?" Harry asked nervously.

Remus glanced over at the wand Sirius was still holding in his hand. "Really the best thing you could do would be to fight back - but I won't ask you to take that risk." He smiled at the determined head shake Harry gave in response, "It's better to learn this anyways, if you're disarmed you'll still need defenses."

They got back into position, and Harry did his best to brace himself. 

"Moony, I think we need to teach the boy to throw a punch next," Sirius called over from the sideline, raising an eyebrow.

"Focus, Harry," Remus said sternly, fixing Harry with a stern gaze, "Legilimens!"

Again the world swirled out of focus. He fell into a memory - the train compartment, his first time on the Hogwarts Express, opening chocolate frogs. 

'No… focus…' he heard a voice within say, the one he remembered from fighting the Imperius curse. 

'Something boring…' What about history could he remember? History of quidditch… the snitch had initially been introduced as the snidget, a small golden bird…

He felt his mind wandering to his own memories with the snitch. Firmly he tried to go back to the text, remembering the painting of the small, fluttering bird that he'd seen in Quidditch Through the Ages.

… resulting in a new position for players… centuries later the snidget became a protected species …

More memories tugged, of Hermione's response to the state of house elves and Hagrid's love for dangerous creatures, he felt himself grit his teeth.

… the golden snitch was invented to replace the bird … the first quidditch world cup was the most violent one on record…

The bludger smashing into his arm, dementors on the field, his mother's screams… these memories were harder to fight. Fear and anger and despair welled in his chest. The gillyweed starting to wear off, still so far below the surface, what if he couldn't save them?

The next thing he was aware of was a square of chocolate being pressed to his lips and a strong arm around his back, supporting him. As the sweet taste began melting over his tongue, he became aware of the wetness on his cheeks and how shaky his breath was. He was struggling for breath, small desperate gasps.

"...deeply, Harry," the firm voice of Remus filtered through, "Try to take a slow, deep breath."

His body shuddered and he tried to get his breaths to slow. It was difficult and that sent a new wave of panic through his mind.

"It's alright, we've got you," Sirius this time, worried murmurs into his ear, "You're safe, Harry."

He swallowed thickly, the chocolate square having fully melted, and his breathing finally slowed. With it his mind began to clear, the panic replaced by the dullness of disappointment. He had failed, again, and it had gone even worse this time.  Tears pricked his eyes but he refused to let them fall.

"Look at me, Harry," Remus said softly. Harry did, looking into the amber colored eyes and wishing he could hide.  

"You did very well. I pushed you harder - and you were able to maintain control for nearly the entire time," the wizard said firmly, holding his gaze, "You have experienced far greater pain than most adults - and once again you are handling it better than anyone could ever ask you to."

"I should've picked a better subject," he grumbled, looking away, "it kept bringing things up."

"You can't expect to know that on the first try," Sirius pointed out, still holding him.

"How are you feeling now?" Remus asked, handing him the rest of the chocolate bar. 

Harry gave a lopsided smile as he took it, "I only remembered dementors - do I really need all this?"

"It also helps with recovering from an emotional shock," he explained with a wry smile.

"I'm doing better. I can try again," he said firmly, wiping his face with a hand and willing his breathing to steady.

"Absolutely not," Sirius insisted, shooting a warning look at Remus.

"I agree," the werewolf replied, holding a hand up to Sirius, "You've been through enough today. Resting is important."

They led him back to the cottage. Sirius quickly began distracting him with jokes and stories, and once they got inside Remus again handed him a cup of extra sweet tea before getting started on dinner. Sirius rifled through the records on the bookshelf, pulling out the Ziggy Stardust album and rambling on about why David Bowie was the single greatest man who ever lived. Harry settled himself in the armchair with a comic book, half listening to his godfather.

Near the end of dinner, Harry found himself poking at his food uncertainly. His thoughts had been chaotic that day, and kept coming back to one feeling lurching in his gut.

"Professor," he said suddenly, speaking quickly so he wouldn't lose his nerve, "Legilimency without a wand or spell- did you say you can do that?"

"I can, yes," Remus said, looking startled. 

"I want you to use it on me, so I know what it feels like." 

Remus hesitated, his eyes quickly flicking to Sirius who looked concerned, before meeting Harry's determined gaze.  He nodded slowly, "It's less invasive or upsetting than the full spell. I simply need direct eye contact."

Harry nodded, not breaking Remus's gaze. Then, he felt the familiar searching feeling as if he were being x-rayed, as if Remus could see straight through him. He shut his eyes and grimaced, his fists tightening on the table.

"Moony," Sirius hissed, "He's been through too much-"

"He didn't do anything wrong," Harry snapped, irritated at feeling coddled. His godfather looked at him in shock then shrank back.  

"Sorry, mate," Sirius muttered, not looking at either of them. 

"He did exactly what I asked him to do - something that I now know Dumbledore and Snape have done to me," the boy spat, shaking with anger and a feeling of helplessness and violation.

"Snape has? That bastard," Sirius snarled. Remus caught his eye and they appeared to have a silent argument across the table.  Harry wondered briefly if they actually were arguing - legilimency seemed like it would allow that, after all. It ended with Sirius crossing his arms over his chest and sulking.

Remus pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his plate, "I do believe that Dumbledore has your best interests at heart, though I do not always agree with his methods," he shook his head, "I cannot agree with, er, professor Snape's intrusions." He used the man's title with a particular air of distaste before catching Harry's eyes again, this time there was absolutely no sensation of intrusion, "Snape's treatment of you is something I can try to help with now, though truthfully Dumbledore gives the man too much leeway and I don't want to make things worse for you."

"Yeah… I understand." The heat of anger was giving way to the sense of numbness and exhaustion. "Do you know why Dumbledore trusts him?"

"No damn clue," Sirius growled.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Remus said with a practiced calmness, "Unless we can prove Snape has ill intentions, unfortunately that is not a battle we can win." 

"It's not fair," Harry muttered.

Sirius and Remus both nodded their agreement.

Chapter Text

The days that Harry spent at the cottage still felt almost unreal. It was wonderful, although his godfather had been absent a few times and was quite grumpy and evasive about why. Harry knew it was something to do with the Order and his childhood home, a place which Remus had gently explained Sirius couldn't stand being in and was reluctant to acknowledge.

It still irritated him. Especially since he was starting to suspect that Ron and Hermione were at Grimmauld Place, yet Sirius said nothing about it or them. Part of him bristled - did they think he was an idiot? That he couldn't tell when people were hiding things from him? 

There were days that Harry was stuck at Privet Drive. It was Petunia's demands, if Vernon was off work then Harry couldn't go missing. This seemed ridiculous, as surely Vernon would be delighted to not have to see Harry on his days off. Yet his aunt had been adamant that no one, especially not her husband, find out and Harry wasn't willing to argue and risk losing the days to go period.

He spent that time trying to catch anything on the muggle news. No one would tell him anything otherwise.

In the pristinely organized Privet Drive, Harry found his thoughts got dark more readily. Dudley was still determined to mock him, and his uncle regarded every move he made with loudly voiced suspicion. 

It was hard to believe that being there brought any sort of protection. Especially protection related to his mother's love. It was clear the Dursleys did not love him and barely tolerated him. 

Yet another owl from Hermione with only the vaguest 'We're quite busy but can't give details here…' had set his blood boiling that morning. 

It was the third day in a row he'd been stuck at Privet Drive, and his birthday to boot. Vernon had decided to take this week off work, it almost felt as if it were intentional although Harry logically knew he had scheduled his vacation days well in advance of Harry's ability to leave.

He had managed to chat with Sirius on the mirror on Saturday, but by Sunday morning he was feeling too irritated and alone to even try. That certainly hadn't changed - he was too resentful to be able to stomach any cheeriness from someone who wasn't even there. 

Somewhere, deep down, he knew he wasn't being fair. A tiny voice that sounded perfectly reasonable nudged him and reminded him that everyone was doing their best and he should be grateful to get any time away from the Dursleys at all. 

That voice only seemed to make him angrier, though, as he lay in the sweltering heat under  the open window of the Dursley's living room, trying to catch something that hinted at what Voldemort was up to.

—

It was an understatement to say that things had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

The Order member assigned to guard Harry that day had left without telling anyone.

A dementor had arrived in Little Whinging of all places, and the only witnesses were a muggle and a squib.

Harry had to use magic illegally to save himself and his cousin, the chance the ministry had been waiting for since Harry had claimed Voldemort had returned.

Fortunately, the Order had been prepared. They convinced the Dursleys to leave the house and the assigned team assembled in Grimmauld Place. Remus had already been there, and did his best to soothe Sirius - who was in an absolute rage. Even the Weasley twins had made themselves scarce after the way his face darkened on hearing the news. Remus had quickly managed to shoo him back into his childhood bedroom, with an apologetic word to Molly who looked about ready to grab Sirius by the ear and give him a piece of her mind.

"This shouldn't have happened!" Sirius bellowed, thankfully after Remus had gotten the silencing charms up.

"No, it shouldn't have," he agreed darkly, "I would happily have been there but instead Albus sent that blasted Mundungus."

Sirius didn't acknowledge this, pacing irritably, "I can't stand this - I should be able to be there for him! If they'd just given me a proper goddamned trial…" he buried his hands into his hair, tugging it, "This fucking protection bullshit - why the hell is he putting up with that abuse when a goddamned dementor can attack him in broad daylight?!"

This continued for about ten full minutes, with Remus only offering the occasional noise of agreement or irritation.  There was no point in doing anything else, the anger would eventually burn itself out. 

Finally it ebbed and the pacing stopped. Sirius instead grabbed him by the arms and looked up into his eyes with a pleading expression, "We can't let the ministry do this to him, he didn't do anything wrong."

"Shhh, shh," Remus soothed, pulling him in, "No one is doing anything to Harry - except a group of people are going tonight to take him out of that miserable fucking place and then we've got nearly two weeks to sort out the hearing."

"He should have been here already. When we spoke on Saturday he was so angry, and he hasn't been in touch since," Sirius grumbled, shaking his head, "Now this. And we have to send him back next year!"

Remus grimaced at that reminder but shook his head, "Even Ms. Juma agrees the protection is worth keeping him there. We'll just… have to assume she's right."

Sirius growled low in his chest then let out a long, heavy sigh, "Alright, we've got company and all I can do is be presentable enough - so may as well," he looked up at Remus, "Be careful, yeh?"

"I will - we've got 8 of us going and the rear guard on standby," he gave the most reassuring smile he could manage before pressing a chaste kiss to Sirius's lips, trying to ignore the worry gnawing at him. 

After they left the room, Sirius went to mutter apologies to the Weasleys and Hermione while Remus met up with the Advance Guard. Most of them had already arrived.  Moody was looking over a map, growling to himself the places where they'd be most vulnerable and creating plans.

Tonks was soon by Remus's elbow, offering a bright smile, "Wotcher, Lupin."

"Evening, Tonks," he replied with a worn smile, "Looking forward to meeting wix royalty then?"

She laughed, looking slightly embarrassed, "Molly nearly chucked me out and told me to wait outside, I made such a ruckus getting in," she rolled her eyes, "Been doin' my best to stand still since."

"How's that going?"

She gestured to the corner where Kreacher was sweeping up broken crockery and muttering insults. 

Remus chuckled slightly, "We'll just have to have our repairing spells at the ready, then, I'm afraid the Dursleys won't take kindly to broken items."

"We won't be meeting them at least," she wrinkled her nose, "I've heard the most awful things about them."

"Mm, sadly I suspect you haven't even heard the worst of it."

"How'd they end up with the Boy Who Lived, then?" she shook her head and frowned.

"I believe it was Dumbledore's choice," he said softly.

"And I'm sure he has his reasons," Tonks added with an eye roll.  Her cheeks went bright pink, nearly the same color as her hair, and she gave him a sly smile, "Oh - not s'posed to say that out loud, am I?"

By then Emmeline Vance came in, apologizing for being late even though they still had over half an hour until they were scheduled to leave.  Moody still grumbled something about punctuality before calling everyone to order and going over the plan again as if it hadn't already been thoroughly ironed out ahead of time.

"We all know what we need to do!" Tonks pointed out, "We've been over it a dozen times by now - precisely so we'd know what to do if this happens!"

Moody fixed her with a harsh glare with his good eye, "Complacency like that will get you killed! Gotta take into account the weather, muggle traffic patterns at this time of night, plus we've had ruddy dementors showing up!"

Tonks pressed her lips into a straight line but didn't speak up for the rest of the meeting.

Dumbledore had created a portkey that would deliver them to Privet Drive after the Dursleys had left for the evening. Moody was barking out orders and warnings right up until the moment the portkey activated.

Remus took a moment to glance around the room. He knew Alastor was going to take the lead, despite Remus's insistence that Harry would be less distressed by seeing him. He would need to stay close to the hyper-vigilant man, but right now Moody was running a series of checks.

With his slightly enhanced vision he could make out the overall shape of the furniture in the dark. Pristine, nothing out of place. Nothing to indicate any personality or individuality. There were photos of the Dursleys - and absolutely no trace that Harry even lived there.  

It was unsurprising, but still sad to see. 

The sound of Tonks crashing something in the kitchen shook him out of his thoughts and he smiled slightly. Moody was making his way to the bottom of the stairs, and cast a charm to open Harry's door.  Remus pressed his lips together, would it have been so terrible to let him just run up to the room and knock politely? Rather than needlessly scaring him with these theatrics?

He shook his head, he had to focus on the mission and not ruffling too many feathers. Sirius's attitude had led to him butting heads with enough people and Remus was trying to keep things smooth. 

Soon he was reassuring Harry and confirming his identity, and they were flying out into the freezing night - led by Alastor, who was absolutely determined to take the most ridiculous route possible.

Once they'd gotten inside, Molly was hissing at them to hurry into the already ongoing meeting. Remus bit his tongue, deeply irritated they couldn't talk to Harry first, but let himself be shuffled into the meeting room. As they were late, he ended up sat nowhere near Sirius, who cast him a relieved look before returning to the stormy expression that was becoming his default in Grimmauld Place. 

He heard shouting from upstairs and jolted slightly - no one else noticed it, it must have been faint, and he soon recognized Harry's voice and a tone of rage he'd never heard in it.  It was completely understandable, of course, and his stomach squirmed with guilt at the situation.  He only managed to half listen to the discussion, fixated on needing to do the impossible - catch Albus Dumbledore before he disappeared at the end. 

This proved futile, and truthfully he was relieved. The day had wreaked havoc on his nerves and he had enough painful conversations facing him as it was.

Before he was able to slip away and quietly pull either Harry or Sirius aside, Tonks had managed to trip and set off Walburga's portrait again. The screams filled the house and of course brought the children running. Then they were being ushered in for dinner, with both Molly and Sirius already halfway to an argument. 

It boiled over into the debate over how much to tell Harry. At its heart was the same thing Molly and Sirius always fought over - Molly feeling motherly protection towards Harry that manifested itself with the desire to coddle, and Sirius feeling offended and coming off as a bit of an insensitive prat because that was how he handled difficult emotions. 

There were quite a few things that Remus could think to say on the subject, if he were feeling cruel. Molly had unwittingly housed the Death Eater responsible for the Potters' deaths, after all, if she'd been able to recognize the rat as an animagus - Sirius would have been a free man long, long ago.  Then her youngest child had been taken in by a cursed object of Voldemort's. Now one of her children had nearly cut ties with the family as he was siding against Dumbledore.

Clearly her approach of keeping them in the dark was working well. 

That would be cruel to say, of course, and he was too fond of Arthur to make such a blow. Molly's opinions had absolutely no sway on Remus's ability to share with Harry what he felt the boy needed to know.

A sentiment which Sirius had not embraced. No, instead Sirius rather threw gas on the fire and all but goaded Harry into asking questions.  Remus spent the time intending to spend the night convincing Sirius not to do this again, until something rather unprecedented happened.

Sirius won the argument. They were able to actually discuss with Harry, and his friends, what was going on in a moderately public forum.  It was a particularly pleasant experience, and he gave Sirius a fond smile for bringing it into existence. 

Of course, then Molly came back down and ordered the children to bed, an act which mildly irritated him but also finally provided the opportunity to speak with Harry.

He excused himself after Molly had gotten herself settled and only smiled amiably when she shot him a suspicious glance. As quietly as he could manage, he made his way up to Harry and Ron's room and knocked on the door.

Ron was the one to open it, which was unsurprising and slightly disappointing.

"Evening, Ron," he said softly, "Harry, can I please speak with you?"

Harry looked up from the bed he was sat on with a defiant expression. "I thought I had to go to bed - no talking."

Ron stepped aside to allow Remus in, and the man looked at Harry uneasily, "Harry - if you would like to follow Molly's rules, I won't stop you. However, you don't have to and I would very much like to apologize and speak with you privately."

Harry shuffled uneasily as Ron looked between the two of them in confusion.  With a huff, Harry nodded and stood up, walking over to the door without looking up at Remus.

"Yeh, alright then," he mumbled, "Night, Ron."

"Night…" Ron grumbled as he closed the door.

Remus led him into the sitting room that was attached to the floo network before magicking up a tea set.

"We're both livid with ourselves that this happened," Remus said quietly, "We're still figuring out the best way to handle this situation and that ended up putting you in danger."

"You're also still hiding things from me!" he snapped, glaring at Remus, "Why haven't either of you said anything about Ron or Hermione being here?! Or any of what you just told me about Voldemort?"

'You didn't ask,' was the first thought that came to mind, and he felt embarrassed by it. There didn't seem to be a good answer.

"I was being selfish," he said quietly. Harry raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, waiting for an elaboration.  Remus sighed heavily, "This isn't our first war. We know what's coming - and for Sirius there's also the pain of being in this house," he shook his head, "The cottage is a safe haven for us - we don't really discuss the hardest things there, because we want it to stay that way."

Remus grimaced, "Also what we know is frustratingly little, based heavily on speculation, and breaks down to how restricted nearly all of us are in our actions."

"You didn't even tell me about my friends! All they've been leaving me with was vague references to how they couldn't tell me anything!" Harry snapped.

"I have spent very little time here, aside from meetings, and while I can't speak for Sirius…" he rolled his lips together, "He doesn't like acknowledging his time in this house. He wouldn't speak to me about it, either."

Harry looked down at the floor after this. "When will we be able to go to the cottage again?" he asked in a small voice.

"Er," Remus ran a hand through his hair then shook himself. The instinct to run and hide had kept him alive, but was clearly not working here. If he'd been willing to be more confrontational, Harry wouldn't have had to face dementors alone and now be facing a ministry hearing.

"Alright.  Tomorrow morning I'll try to get in touch with Dumbledore," he smiled sheepishly, "I had tried tonight - he isn't terribly easy to get ahold of." Harry gave a small huff of a laugh. Remus sucked in a breath, "Then - you don't mind if I tell Molly about the arrangement? That I'm your guardian now?"

"Why would I mind that?" Harry asked incredulously. 

Remus felt his face heat up and bit his lip to try not to grin too widely. He nodded, "I want to make sure you're comfortable." Then he fidgeted slightly, "I don't know if you'd like Ron and Hermione to come - I'll need Molly's permission for Ron."

"Oh… yeah, I guess they could," the boy mumbled, looking away.

"They don't have to, truthfully I'd prefer as few people be able to find the cottage as possible," Remus said.

Harry perked up slightly, "Yeah, that's a good idea, because it has the, er, secret keeper charm on it, right?"

"The Fidelius charm, yes."

"So it's not that I don't want them around - it's about safety," Harry said with a small smile.

Remus bit back a chuckle, finally catching on, "Yes, precisely. Please wait for me to bring it up with you - but if I haven't by noon, well, I think it's fair for you to bring up however you feel appropriate - considering how your godfather and I have rather mucked things up handling it our way."

Harry gave a small chuckle at that, then a large yawn that he wasn't able to stifle. 

"You've had a hard day and I've kept you up late enough, off you go lad," Remus said, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment before motioning for him to head off.

—

Once Harry's footsteps faded, the door opened again and Remus glanced up to see Sirius standing in the doorway.  The man gave him a lopsided smile, "Heard you two in here - figured you were in a better place to handle it tonight."  He glowered, "Plus I wanted to stand guard in case Molly noticed and decided to start trouble again."

Remus sighed heavily and motioned towards the couch, "She was out of line with her comment about you being in Azkaban." 

The two men sat down on the sofa and Remus set a fire with a flick of his wand. It was too hot for it, really, but the sight calmed them both and Sirius seemed to do better with the extra warmth after the time in Azkaban.

"I'm going to contact Dumbledore about the guardianship tomorrow morning," Remus said quietly, wrapping an arm around Sirius's shoulder and pulling him close, "And I have Harry's blessing to tell Molly."

Sirius laughed bitterly, "That'll go well."

"Yes. Well. If we'd been more forthcoming, today wouldn't have happened."

"Suppose we've muddled it up a bit," Sirius agreed, rubbing a hand over his face, "I sent a letter to Ms Juma while you were out. She'll be able to help with the Ministry hearing."

"I assume Dumbledore has a plan for that. I want to discuss with him before confirming anything," Remus pursed his lips, "but she will be on standby in case his plan goes tits up."

"Now that I can get behind," the black haired man muttered, relaxing into Remus and nuzzling slightly into his neck. 

"I was going to tell you off for goading Harry into asking about everything," Remus said, his lips curling into a wry smile, "Then it worked. And I'm quite proud of you for that." He pressed a kiss to the top of Sirius's head.

"Admitting your wrong, Lupin? Thought they said old dogs don't learn new tricks."

"Apparently old wolves can," Remus pointed out, flicking his nose gently before looking back into the fire, "I'm having a hard time adjusting to this - so much has changed in the last two months, now the habits that used to keep me alive are causing problems for the people I love," he snorted, "Merlin, I'm still reeling over having people I love in my life again."

"Mmm, yeh, I know what you mean," Sirius hummed, "Now you gotta be a responsible, upstanding citizen, Moons."

"Urgh, how did that happen, Pads?" he asked, scrunching up his nose and then laughing.

"Next you're gonna be filing taxes…"

"Sirius, please tell me you filed taxes after you came of age."

"Buying a house…"

"We did that, this summer."

"Adopting a plucky orphan…"

"Plucky?" Remus snorted, "I dare you to call him that to his face."

"Easy enough," Sirius smirked. 

"We need to extend the cottage, don't we?" Remus asked quietly, "He needs his own space there."

"Accepting he actually likes it there, and isn't just taking it as 'less terrible than Privet Drive', then?"

"I think I'm getting there," he said, letting out a long breath, "He asked if we can still go there… and he doesn't want Ron or Hermione there just yet."

"Oh right? Well I'm all in favor of that," he stretched sleepily, not bothering to stifle a yawn, "Be nice to have something to focus on that isn't…" he waved his hand at the room around him.

"I still feel like an impostor. Someone else should have done it. You should have been able to," Remus muttered, sinking into the couch and glaring into the flickering light.

"You saw the will, mate, you were also their choice - and I'll bet those financial provisions were made with you in mind," Sirius pointed out sternly, kissing his temple before laughing softly, "Be honest - Lily would have insisted on your voice of reason. Probably didn't trust me to raise him on my own."

Remus gave a small smile at the reminder of his and Lily's friendship. In their past life, Sirius had predominantly just joked and rolled his eyes and insisted Remus was still a Marauder first.

"Now that I can believe," he murmured.

Chapter Text

The next morning found Remus pacing in Sirius's bedroom, trying to decide what was 'too early' to reach out to Dumbledore, while also attempting to talk himself up to the experience. Part of him still felt like that 11 year old who had found the wizard in his living room, offering him something he'd never dared believe possible - a chance to attend Hogwarts.

The degree of loyalty this created was hard to shake, and on some level he still associated Dumbledore's approval with his ability to move through the wix world.

Ultimately he decided that 8am was respectable enough. The rest of the house was still sleeping. The teenagers wouldn't be up for a few hours, and Molly and Arthur didn't usually head downstairs until 9. 

He waved his wand over the letter, silently casting the spell that would allow him to send the message to Dumbledore without risk of being traced. 

It was hardly surprising when the parchment flared with purple fire minutes later - now with a location to floo to meet him. Remus took a deep breath and cast a quick look at Sirius, who was still deep asleep. He went into the sitting room and grabbed a pinch of floo powder, stepping through to an unfamiliar room.

The windows were frosted, so even with the bright summer sun it wasn't possible to figure out their location.  The room itself seemed quite muggle, there were no signs of magical items within it.  Dumbledore was sat at a round table with a china tea set on it, and Remus soon realized he was standing in a kitchen.  It was a fairly unusual place to have a fireplace nowadays.

"Remus," Albus said pleasantly, "Just yourself today?"

"Afraid so, yes," he replied pleasantly, brushing the soot off his jacket. 

"Ah, I had prepared two places just in case - please, sit," the wizard gestured to the chairs across from him.  Remus sat down, and with a flick of his wand Dumbledore sent him a cup and saucer which the teapot then filled. "Milk and sugar?"

"Please," he replied with a nervous smile.  Looking over Dumbledore, he realized that his robes were in fact a dressing gown.  The crushed velvet fabric was a deep navy decorated with constellations, and would have quite fit in with his usual attire. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"When one reaches my age, you learn to expect disruptions at any time, think nothing of it," the man replied, and his eyes twinkled for a moment before he unrolled a piece of parchment, "Now - what is this regarding our Mr Potter's guardianship?"

Remus took a steadying breath and managed to keep an amiable smile on his face, "Am I correct that Harry is currently under sacrificial protection, and needs to remain living with his aunt until he turns 17?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him, "Yes, you've done your homework."

"Yes. And we have come up with a solution to allow Harry to have a wix guardian without disrupting that protection," he pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and passed it to Dumbledore.

"Is that so?" he asked, furrowing his brows as he read over the document. When he came to the name of the solicitor, he gave a small laugh and shook his head, "I did not expect Sirius to stay with his family's law firm - I am pleased to see I was mistaken." He returned the parchment to Remus with a wry smile, "And I see you withheld this information until well after it had gone through - did you think I would stop it?"

"I didn't feel it was worth taking the risk," Remus replied, taking a sip of the tea, "I suspect you have a plan for Harry's Ministry hearing. We will have a solicitor on standby, just to be safe, however I don't want to interfere with your plans."

"That's quite considerate of you," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle, "That is correct - I am confident that I will be able to get Harry off all charges, however I won't begrudge you the peace of mind of making your own arrangements."

"Good," Remus said, wishing he could feel relieved but the next step was the more difficult one, "Are you aware that my home has been placed under the Fidelius charm as well?"

"No, although I'm more surprised to hear you finally refer to it as a 'home'."

"We - Sirius, Harry, and I - will continue spending time there. Not loads, mind, but they both need the break sometimes."

"Grimmauld Place has more protections-" Dumbledore began sternly.

"Albus, your way resulted in him being portkeyed to Voldemort and attacked by dementors," Remus said sharply, "We're trying mine."

For a brief moment, rage flared in Dumbledore's face - but it was instantly doused and the man seemed to wither in front of him, looking terribly, terribly old.

He placed a hand over his eyes and took a long, shaky breath before looking up with a worn smile.

"Will you at least permit Alastor to check the location and confirm its suitability?" he asked softly, his voice weary. 

"I'll pass him the information next time I see him- he won't be able to visit the location itself but can check around it to his heart's desire," Remus said quietly, "I want as few people as possible able to access it."

Dumbledore nodded, "I'm sure he will admire your caution."  They sat in silence for a moment before the old wizard chuckled, "For a week or two, the reports had been that Harry was rarely leaving his room on some days - I don't suppose you had anything to do with this?"

Remus gave a wry smile, "After what we put you through in school - are you really surprised Sirius and I figured out how to spirit him away?" he let out a huff, "The muggles wouldn't let him leave each day - or else he wouldn't have been attacked."

"Yes, I have struggled with them," he gave Remus a searching look, and Remus responded by pushing back against the attempt at legilimency.  Dumbledore gave the worn smile again, "I don't know what you must think of me for sending Harry to that house alone for so many years," he said, "But please believe that I tried every means in my power to find a way to match the sacrificial protection - and came up empty handed."

He looked meaningfully into Remus's eyes, the bright blue piercing. The werewolf hesitated for a moment before pressing in with legilimency, something he had never attempted against Dumbledore. He was invited in, at least to a small portion of the man's mind, to the failed attempts and feelings of anguish whenever he received a report from Arabella Figg, the squib who had lived down the road and kept a close eye on the boy.

Remus pulled back before he could be shut out, knowing well that he was shown only what Dumbledore wanted him to see. He closed his eyes and took a moment to process everything that had just happened, sipping the last dregs of his tea. 

"I don't believe there has been any good way to handle the situation," Remus said diplomatically.

"Indeed. Now, I am afraid that I have prior engagements and must bring this delightful morning tea to an end," Dumbledore said pleasantly, his typical persona back into place, gesturing for Remus to return to the fireplace and clearing the table with a flick of his hand.

—

Rather than heading back to Grimmauld Place, Remus instead made his way to Diagon Alley. The shops would be opening soon, and he wanted some time alone with his thoughts before facing Molly. Or anyone else, really.

The meeting hadn't been the disaster he had feared, but he had learned in the first war that Dumbledore was a master strategist and what he saw on the surface was rarely the full story. The invitation to glance into the man's mind had only set his teeth on edge, rather than granting any reassurance. While he believed the memories were untampered, tiny glimpses weren't the whole story.

They were exactly what Dumbledore believed Remus needed to see to stay on his side.

It had also been the first time Remus had so brazenly used occlumency against him. He wasn't sure what the consequences of that might be.

Soon he made his way into Flourish & Blotts. The familiar smell of books was soothing, and this early it was quiet. It wasn't hard to find the section with building related spells. He was strict with himself, only allowing 15 minutes to browse and choose a selection to buy, which he placed in his travel bag. Then he made his way to the apparition point, heading back to the sitting room.

A few moments after he arrived, the door flew open to reveal Mrs Weasley - her hair dissheveled and face red. "FRED! GEORGE! WHAT HAVE I– oh! I beg your pardon, Remus, I thought you were the boys," she finished, the red of rage being replaced with an embarrassed pink and she ran a hand over the fly-away hairs, "They've been up to something this morning and now I can't find -" she shook her head, "Nevermind that, breakfast is ready if you'd like to help yourself, dear."

With that she disappeared back downstairs, leaving Remus to stare on in shock.  

He checked into Sirius's room on the way down, finding the bed empty and still rumpled, before continuing to the kitchen. Sirius, Hermione, and Arthur were in there - discussing something. It came as no surprise that Hermione had three books out in front of her.

Sirius looked up and tutted loudly when Remus stepped in, "No note, Moonymine, I thought you were the responsible one!"

"I am currently the frazzled one who expected you'd remember the plans I told you last night," Remus replied, placing a kiss on Sirius's head.

"Go alright, then?" he asked, passing an already made plate over to him.

"Mm, time will tell," Remus said, poking at the food until a frown from Sirius prompted him to actually start eating, "What are you three up to?"

"We're planning on tackling the bathrooms in more earnest," Arthur replied cheerfully, "With this many people in the house more need to be safe to use."

"Hermione is helping us find spells to identify any curses or enchantments we need to be aware of," Sirius added. 

"She's certainly up to the job, I'm sure she'll be a much needed help," Remus mused, causing the young witch to turn pink in the face at the praise.

"You're stuck helping as well," Sirius added, popping a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Yes, I remember having to clean up the messes you lot made with your bathroom-based pranks," Remus replied, rolling his eyes, "Especially when Lily got bloody sick of it and pranked ours."

Sirius's face lit up, "Oh that was brilliant! I think it was the day James properly fell in love with her, too, she even managed to spell the water so we couldn't dry things out - brilliant woman."

Hermione giggled, "Sounds like the Gryffindor dorms were more exciting when you were in school."

"You're just lucky you aren't in Fred & George's year," Arthur chimed in, "The owls I've gotten over those boys…"

At that point, the door opened again. Ron and Harry filed in and found seats, and Sirius passed a plate over to him. 

"Doing alright?" Sirius asked with a smile. Harry just nodded without looking at him and his godfather wilted.  They still needed to talk, then. 

"Did you get a response from Ms. Juma?" Remus asked him.

"Yeah, you talked to Dumbledore?"

Harry looked up at this. In fact, they had the attention of the entire table, which was for the best.

"Yes," Remus replied simply before turning to Harry, "Dumbledore will be assisting with the ministry hearing, and is confident he'll be able to get the charges dropped. Our solicitor is on standby just to be safe," he offered a warm smile, "I cannot promise this won't be an issue but we have every confidence it'll be smoothed over."

Harry smiled at that, "Okay, good, brilliant."

"How's Sirius going to send a solicitor in when he's a wanted criminal?" Ron asked between bites, resulting in the sound of a kick under the table and Hermione hissing 'Ronald!'.

"He won't be, she's acting under my authority as Harry's legal guardian," Remus replied mildly, "We were able to arrange it this summer."

"Oh, brilliant!" Ron said, nudging Harry with an elbow, "That means no more of those horrible muggles, yeh?"

Sirius winced, "Actually he still has to - it's joint custody."

"There's some magical protection tied to Harry's bloodline," Remus said with a heavy sigh.

"It's still quite helpful to have someone in our world to look out for him," Arthur said brightly, beaming at the boy, "Molly and I have done our best, and Dumbledore has let us stand in for his family to attend the Triwizard Tournament, but it certainly isn't a replacement for a proper guardian."

"I was able to do a little bit as godfather," Sirius said bitterly, "but my hands are rather tied."

"Why weren't you able to do it sooner?" Hermione asked with a frown, looking suspicious.

"I lacked the funds," Remus said simply.

"Which is one problem I can remedy," Sirius added with a smirk. 

Harry glanced up at him, "Is that really the only reason?" 

Remus looked at him for a moment and nodded. "The lycanthropy also gave me pause, but ultimately the reality was I could barely afford to feed and home myself - nevermind hiring legal support."

Harry nodded and looked back at his plate, frowning slightly.

"I suppose, in light of the conversation last night," Arthur said, looking over to Remus, "We'll need to get into the habit of deferring to you."

"I will still appreciate your advice, of course," Remus said with a smile, feeling relieved, "It's mostly a safeguard to ensure someone has the power to advocate for Harry's needs." His eyes flicked over to the boy, who still wasn't looking up. "And taking Harry's wishes into account as well."

"You still won't let me join the Order," Harry grumbled.

"No." 

"Why not?" Harry snapped, "I want to join- I want to fight!"

"Good - because you don't have a damn choice in the matter, do you?" Remus snapped back, and Harry looked absolutely startled. He had never seen Remus get angry. 

"You have come face to face with Voldemort four times in your life already, and the scene in the graveyard made it clear he is specifically targeting you," Remus continued, carefully keeping his voice level, "There is no question of whether you will have to fight, Harry."

There were a few murmurs around the table, Sirius and Arthur noting objections, but he just held eye contact with the green eyes that were now wide with alarm.

"Then why can't I just join? Wouldn't that keep me safer?" the boy asked quietly.

"No, mate," Sirius said with a strained smile.

"Being a full Order member would put you in greater danger," Arthur agreed gently.

Harry slipped down slightly into his chair, staring at his plate. Red was creeping up his face. Then he began shaking slightly and glared back at Remus.

"So what am I supposed to do?! Just sit here and wait for him to attack me?" Harry all but shouted.

"You were supposed to be getting training at school to protect yourself," Remus pointed out with a grimace, "That hasn't exactly panned out."

"No, no, letting one death eater sleep in his dorm for three years and another use Unforgivables on him is great preparation," Sirius said with a growl, "They certainly didn't spend that time getting ample intelligence on him right under the man's nose."

“Dumbledore had no way of knowing about that,” Hermione said pointedly, “He’s still the only person You-Know-Who was ever afraid of, and I for one think that we should trust his judgment. Harry does not need anyone putting wild ideas into his head. He runs into enough trouble and the last thing anyone needs is him running off and doing something stupid," she finished, pursing her lips.

"Hermione - do you really think I'd run off and face Voldemort myself?!" Harry demanded, irritated.

Ron spoke up now, his ears pink as he looked at absolutely no one, "You, er, kind of did in first and second year…"

"I thought it was Snape first year and we went with a professor in second year!" Harry objected, "Should I have just sat there after he attacked us and let Ginny die?!"

Arthur made a strangled noise at this, and Ron's face went even redder. 

"Harry was specifically targeted by Voldemort in both those times," Remus said, rubbing a hand over his brow with his eyes closed, "We can't underestimate his powers to manipulate a situation - even Dumbledore has not been able to keep Harry safe from him even before he had a physical form." 

Hermione huffed, "Which is precisely why he should practice being more cautious and keeping his head down - not being reminded how dangerous it is.”

"I already know how dangerous it is! I was the one who watched him kill Cedric!" Harry was on his feet now, pushing his chair out, "I carried his body back, Hermione! While you were in the ruddy grounds comforting Krum -"

"Don't you dare -" Hermione started.

"That's not on-" Ron snarled.

"Enough!" Arthur said with a loud clap of his hands, causing the three teenagers to jump slightly.

"I believe Molly has some doxies she would like our help with," Arthur continued calmly as he walked to the door and stood at it, gesturing for them to leave. Hermione was the first to go, stalking out with her head held high, Ron slunk after her, shooting a worried look at Harry who was still glaring after her. Arthur paused for a moment, watching Harry before sighing heavily.

"It may be best to let me tell Molly about the guardianship," Arthur said quietly. 

"If you don't mind," Remus said gratefully, "I am sorry for what a mess this is."

"We all are," Arthur agreed with a worn smile before heading off after them.

No one moved or spoke for a long moment, until Sirius cleared the table with a flick of his wand.

"It's this ruddy house," he said with a forced cheeriness, "I swear there's something in the air - gets under your skin."

"Merlin, that man needs a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year," Remus muttered, continuing to bury his face in his hand.

"He should just hire you back," Harry grumbled, throwing himself back into a chair, "I'd be worse than dead if you hadn't taught me the patronus. You weren't even supposed to do that."

"No, it's NEWTs level," Remus sighed, "At this point that's what you need to be studying."

"I suppose you're waiting until Dumbledore reveals who he's hired to interfere?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow at Remus.

"At this point I've half a mind to just homeschool…" Remus glowered before glancing over at Harry, "I won't force it, of course."

"I want to go back to Hogwarts," he said firmly.

"I understand," Remus said fondly, leaning back in his chair with a sigh, "Worst case scenario, I'll load you up with DADA books and a curriculum to practice and I can visit on Hogsmeade weekends."

Harry gave a jerky nod and crossed his arms.

"Do we have to stay today?" Sirius asked Remus with a whine. Harry looked over at this.

"Merlin, no," Remus huffed out a laugh, rubbing his brow before meeting Sirius's gaze, "I will stay, though, I think Arthur is already late for work - I should probably try and keep the peace with Molly," he grimaced, "Although she's adamant on using that blasted Lockhart book…"

"That's just for today, right?" Harry asked quietly, looking back at the table.

"I'd like to say so - but I think one of us may need to be here more often and I'd rather Sirius be the one getting out of here," Remus said with a sigh then he smiled softly, "Besides I had a few days with you to myself already, only fair your godfather gets a turn." Harry's lip turned up slightly at that.

"Bring Hedwig with you - it's up to you if you want to leave her there for a few days. I don't like you being unable to contact anyone if you need, but that really shouldn't be a problem with 6 adults in the house."

"Weird to think of Fred and George as adults," Harry said with a small huff of a laugh.

"Molly agrees with you," Sirius pointed out with a chuckle, giving Remus a kiss before standing up, "Let me borrow your broomstick, Moony?"

"I thought it was yours and I had borrowed it?" Remus asked, looking perplexed.  

"You two didn't realize you were at the 'joint ownership' point of the relationship?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes while trying to hide a chuckle.

Chapter Text

The summer heatwave was continuing, which meant the cottage continued to be bathed in sunlight and was absolutely pastoral. Harry could practically feel some of the anger that had been brewing inside him fall off like an old cloak, and his godfather also perked up considerably to be there. 

Hedwig was grateful to be free for the first time in the better part of a week, and Harry explained she'd be there on her own for a while because he couldn't stay.  He needed to offer the same to Ron's owl. Hopefully after today he'd feel calm enough to do it. 

Sirius had launched into an enthusiastic ramble about all the options of things they could do - and Harry just stood next to Hedwig's cage and watched out the window until it trailed off.

"You okay, Harry?" the man finally asked.

Harry shook his head - he wasn't. "Why didn't you tell me anything about what was happening at Grimmauld Place? That the Weasleys and Hermione were there?"

"I… I really don't like thinking about that place, or even the Order, when I don't have to," Sirius replied, walking over to stand next to him, also looking out into the forest, "and your friends - I didn't know how to handle that. I didn't know if you'd get angry they could live with me when you couldn't, or if you'd end up saying something to them…" he turned his head to Harry and waited for him to meet his gaze.

"We've been really afraid of something taking this, you, away from us again," Sirius said softly, "If we knew we were leaving you in danger like that," his face darkened for a moment and he shook his head, "But Dumbledore's proven for the last time he can't keep you safe."

Harry nodded and looked back out the window, not sure how to feel about everything.  It was hard to think badly of Dumbledore, but then when Remus or Sirius talked about the things Harry had gone through under his watch - maybe it was fair. 

"Would Remus actually have wanted custody of me?" he asked in a small voice, "If you could have done it - if anyone else could have…" Harry looked up at him and bit his lip.

Sirius looked at him and gave a small smile, ruffling his hair, "I honestly don't think he would have trusted me alone with you. But I also don't think he would ever have accepted he was worthy to be your guardian, he still hasn't."

"Sometimes he acts like he doesn't want to."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Sirius and a nod, "You should tell him that - might get him to pull his head out of his arse." 

Harry snorted in response and shook his head.

"One thing that helps Remus when he's feeling like shite is Padfoot," Sirius said, "Cuddling a dog, y'know?"

He could see the appeal of that and smiled, "Maybe later - you brought your broomstick, and I haven't played Quidditch in over a year."

"Absolutely!" Sirius said in delight, "You know- I used to play with your dad on the Gryffindor team.  Beater for a few years, Chaser til graduation."

"I saw the trophies!" Harry said with a laugh.  Then he sighed as he picked up his Firebolt, rubbing fond fingers over it, "I wish we had a snitch. I haven't even touched one since third year and this forest would be great for practicing."

Sirius nodded before looking over the bookshelves, "Moony used to have a book about enchanting things to play Quidditch at home… Wonder if your -" he paused and glanced over at Harry, "What do you want to call him? I'm your godfather, of course, and we've been going with 'guardian' for him…"

"For Remus? Can I call you both godfather?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Well, I certainly won't stop you - but I was appointed by a proper muggle baptism so I don't know what the rules are."

"I was baptized? " Harry asked blankly, "I thought wix weren't Christian."

"Most of us aren't - to us Jesus is some bloke who used his powers to get all these muggle followers," he rolled his eyes, "Muggle borns like your mum, if they were raised in it, tend to be fond of the traditions, though, Moony as well, church reminds him of his mum."

"Ah, your dad was a wreck before the baptism. Spent weeks going over what not to say," he smiled fondly which soon turned into a smirk, "Moony just kept me under a wandless silencing charm for most of it."

"Does that mean I have a godmother?" Harry asked quietly.

"Mary MacDonald. Your mum’s best friend from school," he looked away, "She didn't make it to see your first birthday."

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Sirius tried a summoning charm for the book and was startled when an old, dog eared volume with notes sticking out of it flew into his hands.  He stared at it in disbelief, shaking as he opened the book to the title page.

"I can't believe he kept it," Sirius murmured, eyes going wet.

Harry peered over his shoulder and immediately spotted a handwritten note - 

'Mr. M,

Now you can make yourself useful this summer whilst ogling us in our Quidditch kit.

Yours,

Mr. PF'

"Did he actually ogle my dad?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Sirius laughed, shaking his head, "He didn't ogle anyone - or if he did he was a damn master at hiding it. I don't think he figured out boys existed until well after graduation," he chuckled, "Had quite a few girls use him as a bit of a practice boyfriend. He'd go out if they asked him - be a perfect gentleman, but when they wanted anything more than a chaste kiss he'd find an excuse to end it, and always a dead kind one as well, so got a reputation as being someone to go out with to get comfortable before trying it with the bloke you really like."

"That sounds terrible for him," Harry said with a frown, remembering how nervous he had been about trying to find a date for the Yule Ball. It had been a disaster in the end, of course. Having girls asking him out just for the experience of going on a few dates caused a leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

He could certainly imagine quiet, mild mannered Remus Lupin going along with it just to be polite while already juggling the stress and pain of being a werewolf.

"Your dad and I said as much plenty of times - but he insisted he didn't mind," Sirius grumbled, shaking his head, "You'd have to ask him what he thinks about it now."

Before they could discuss it any further, his godfather took a deep breath and flipped through a few of the pages. It came out shaky and he ran his fingers over a part of the page delicately.

"Here you go, Prongslet," he said quietly, turning the book and offering it to Harry, "That's your dad's handwriting - we weren't much older than you that summer."

Harry stared at the page in disbelief. On the page, the writer, his father, had crossed out one of the sentences and wrote in his own instructions.  He stared at it for a long time before flipping through the pages. 

The book itself focused on at home charms for quidditch, specifically for students during their holidays. The book was careful to note that adults would need to cast this, although it also wryly noted when to explain to your parents that the spells weren't working right. Spelling balls into a snitch and bludgers, with safety notes. Keeping score. Gameplay rules for various numbers of players. Then strategy suggestions for the game as a whole.

Nearly every page had been written or drawn in - a combination of three different handwritings.  There were some rude drawings that made him huff out a laugh, a few notes about the other Hogwarts teams or players. Things they tried that were scratched out and written under it. 

Many of his dad's notes reminded him of how Oliver Wood led the team, or were things Harry was eager to try in his next match.  

There were also quite a few doodles of the name 'Lily' with various adornments. He stopped at one that had a particularly well rendered lily flower next to it, animated to go from bud to bloom. He just watched it in awe before finally looking back up and holding the book out to Sirius.

"Will you tell me about this?"  

—

As soon as Sirius and Harry disappeared from the front step with a crack, Remus grimaced at the day ahead of him. He quickly made his way to the room where Molly and the children were dealing with doxies, and found that Arthur was still there.  It was definitely later than he should have left. 

Remus managed to make his way over to the man without drawing any attention, a skill he had mastered long ago.  Arthur gave him a tired smile.

"I haven't managed to tell her. She's, er, rather focused this morning."

Remus nodded, patting him on the shoulder once, "I'll handle it. You can head off."

"Thank you," Arthur said with visible relief, kissing his wife and wishing her well before rushing out of the room.

Molly was leaning over Lockhart's book and giving out orders to the children. Remus bit his tongue, Molly had made it clear that his suggestions weren't welcome and it was not worth the fight. There were considerably better ways to handle doxies, but it certainly wasn't worth rocking the boat right now.

"Oh, Remus, lovely, will Sirius and Harry be along soon?" she asked distractedly as Hermione passed him a tea towel and gestured to how her own was wrapped over her nose and mouth.

"No, but I'm sure we've enough hands among us to handle a doxy infestation," Remus replied easily. Molly pursed her lips and handed him a can of doxy spray before getting started, while Hermione shot him a suspicious glance.

The work kept them significantly distracted for the morning. The doorbell went a few times and he answered it, collecting reports from the various Order members checking in and causing Molly to raise an eyebrow at him.

She declared a break for lunch, and fortunately the doorbell went at the same time. He made his way to answer it, hoping it would be quick enough that he could catch Molly alone. Alastor Moody stood on the other side of the door and grunted slightly to see him.

"Lupin. Good. 'Spect you know what I'm here for," he said with a growl, pushing past him while Remus pulled the curtain back over the screaming portrait of Walburga Black. 

"Oh, Alastor, you're just in time for lunch if you'd like it," Molly said as he clomped into the kitchen, gesturing to the tray of sandwiches she was putting together.

"Thanks, Molly, I'm just here to get the location of this one's new safe house to make sure it's safe for our Mr. Potter," Moody replied, jerking a thumb at Remus.

"I beg your pardon?" she said sharply, fixing Remus with a stern look. Moody snorted.

"This is all the information you're getting off me," Remus said pleasantly, handing him a folded piece of parchment, "That's the general area.  The sale is public information under muggle law - however it was set up through a limited liability company for anonymity so it will take a bit to sort out the address should you want it."

Moody gave him a shrewd grin, "Good instincts, then, let you know if I find anything."

"If you somehow manage to find the cottage - feel free to knock on the door, Sirius and Harry are there today," Remus said, offering a hand to Alastor to shake.

"They're where?!" Molly snapped, grabbing Remus by the shoulder.

"Good luck with that," Alastor said with a gravelly chuckle, tilting the brim of his hat as he made his way out.

"Molly, I'm going to ask you to please hear me out before jumping to conclusions," he said mildly, "This is not how I had intended the information to be presented to you."

"Jumping to conclusions?" she snarled, "Is Harry in this house or not?"

"Harry is safe," Remus said sternly.

"Safe!" she gave a harsh laugh, "Running off Merlin knows where with an irresponsible reprobate- and under whose authority? Has Sirius lost his mind and decided being his godfather actually gives him any right to decide what that boy needs?"

Remus breathed in through his nose, trying to remember this was coming from a place of love and concern for Harry. His lip twitched slightly.

"Are you prepared to listen to me now, or would you like to continue your tirade?" he asked gently, clasping his hands in front of himself. 

"Save it for Dumbledore," she growled, grabbing the tray, "as soon as I've served lunch I'm contacting him about this."

"I spoke to him this morning and he does not, in fact, have the authority to overrule me on this," Remus said with a practiced calmness.  

Molly froze and glared at him, "Overrule you?"

"As Harry's legal guardian. I have the authority to allow him to leave Grimmauld Place. I have also set up a safe house which I have every confidence even Alastor Moody will be satisfied by - not that he'll ever get close to it thanks to the Fidelius charm over it."

Molly set the tray back down with a loud thunk and pulled her mouth into a thin line, "And are you really so cocky as to believe you can keep him safer than Dumbledore can? That defying Albus Dumbledore is in Harry's best interests?"

"I suppose we will simply have to see how many dementors he gets attacked by under my watch," Remus suggested pleasantly. 

She made a strangled noise, grabbing the tray and storming back upstairs. Remus watched her go and rubbed a hand over his face, wishing the situation didn't have to be so damn complicated. He owed Arthur an apology, that much was for sure. 

He drummed his fingers on the table. He still felt it was somehow important for either himself or Sirius to be at Grimmauld place, what with the stress in the air due to the dementors and pending ministry hearing.  A quick lunch break ought to be safe though, really.

—

The cottage was silent when he made his way inside. He smiled to himself, wondering if the two were off on broomsticks or just walking. Then a small whine caught his attention, and he looked over to see Padfoot curled up on the couch, Harry buried in his fur and fast asleep.

"Oh, lad…" Remus murmured, walking over quietly.  "Stay like that, love," he added, scratching behind the dog's ears before sitting down on the floor in front of the couch.

"Moody is checking the area - once he gives the all clear…" Remus looked up at the sleeping boy and set his jaw, "He's staying here - he can go to Grimmauld during the day if he needs to, or wants to, but the boy deserves some damn peace."

The dog nodded and Remus crumbled into him, burying his face into the other side of his neck and breathing in the familiar scent. 

"I hate this, Pads, everyone thinks we're taking too much of a risk and…" he sucked in a breath, "the consequences of them being right…" the dog growled softly and Remus pulled back looking at Harry again, "but I just - if they were here, right now, seeing what he'd been put through - they'd never have stood for it and I just can't bring myself to stand down." 

Padfoot offered a doggy grin and Remus chuckled, scratching under his chin. 

"I came here for lunch, I'll make something cold that'll keep in the fridge until he's up, but I'm going back after just…" he sighed, pushing himself off the floor with all reluctance, "Just to be safe." 

The dog huffed at him and he didn't need to look to know he was rolling his eyes. Remus chewed at the edge of his thumb as he looked through the cupboard and fridge, already well aware of what he intended to make but dragging his feet and giving his hands something to do.

He had expected to find Harry and Sirius doing something together. Even if it was just Harry reading while Sirius dug through Remus's record collection again. Or having a fight - which seemed like it was half needed, although maybe they'd sorted it out.

He did not expect to find a healthy teenager dead asleep and tightly clinging to a dog during the early afternoon. 

Which wasn't, in hindsight, surprising given what had happened the day before. It still left him feeling irritated that the plan had been to throw the boy into a miserable, filthy, pest infested house full of too many people and put him to work cleaning out semi-dangerous magical creatures.

Actually, it made his blood boil, but he couldn't let anger cloud his judgment and was working his way back down to irritated.

Finally he pulled down the crusty bread he had bought a few days ago and a few fixings from the fridge and put together sandwiches. He ate his sitting on the floor next to the couch again, staring into the fire that Sirius kept insisting they keep lit. It was good for today, if the smoke somehow caused an issue Moody would point it out during his inspection.

"He hasn't moved an inch," Remus murmured, looking back at Harry and sighing, "I wonder if, on some level, he remembers when he used to fall asleep like that…" he smiled fondly, "You'd complain you weren't a crib, but somehow every time he was cutting a tooth you'd find your way there and let him tangle himself in and drool all over your fur."

The dog let out a content sigh. Then Remus was standing up and insisting he had to go, earning a soft whine in response. 

—

Waking up was a slow process. It took him a long time to open his eyes, each breath taking in a scent that made him calm. Music he didn't recognize played in his head and blearily he realized there had been no nightmares, just vague dreams that left him feeling loved.

Then he became aware that his pillow was moving, the light rise and fall of breathing, and furry and he bolted upright feeling mortified. 

The dog jerked up at this and was swiftly replaced by his godfather rubbing his face and giving him a bleary smile. "Hey there, sleep well?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, shuffling as far to the side as he could, "I didn't mean to."

"Harry? Look at me a minute." When he did, Sirius was frowning with concern that was replaced with a soft smile when Harry finally looked into his grey eyes. "It's completely fine. I'm glad you were comfortable enough, you clearly needed the sleep." His eyes took on a far away look. "You used to do that as a baby, too."

"I'd fall asleep on you?" he asked quietly, his cheeks coloring.

"Yeh," the man replied, then chuckled, "You drool a lot less now."

Harry felt his blush deepen and he looked down at his lap, biting his lip as a warm smile formed on his face.  

"And the professor came by and made us lunch, so I'll grab that," Sirius added, standing up and stretching in a way that made his joints pop before making the short trip to the fridge.

"Remus? He saw me asleep?" Harry asked, the shame creeping back up.

Sirius gave him another concerned look, "You went through a lot, mate, he understands."

"I shouldn't be napping like a toddler," Harry muttered, wrinkling his nose. A plate with a sandwich on it was gently placed on his lap and his stomach growled in appreciation.

"No, you shouldn't need to, but you did so that means you've got needs which aren't being met and that's our job to sort out," Sirius pointed out with a raised eyebrow, sitting sideways on the couch so he was facing Harry and eating the sandwich one handed, apparently oblivious to the crumbs falling on the couch cushion beneath him. Seeing that made something inside Harry unclench and he found himself relaxing slightly.

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"Of course, absolutely peachy," Sirius agreed, raising his other eyebrow into a pointed look. Harry just grimaced and continued eating. His godfather didn't push, instead looking over at the clock with an expression of longing, "Moony might come back for dinner…"

Harry followed his gaze and then immediately looked back at his plate when he realized how long he must have been sleeping.  The night before had been difficult, and he wasn't looking forward to another night in the ancient, creaking house.

"When do we have to go back?" he asked glumly.

"You might not have to until you want to," Sirius said quietly, still watching the clock, "Moody is checking the area to see if it meets his standards of safety - which it will - and Remus said once that happens he wants you spending the nights here and only going to Grimmauld when you actually want to," he rolled his eyes, "Or when Dumbledore demands it."

"On my own?" He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea, although it was probably better than that damn house. Plus he had Hedwig and the mirrors if he needed anything.

"No, absolutely not," Sirius said, looking over at him in shock, "We wouldn't do that to you."

"Oh. Good," he said, "This couch is better than that room was - no offense."

Sirius continued staring at him in confusion before giving a loud bark of a laugh and burying his face in his hands, "Merlin's beard there is too much going on at once," he grinned at Harry, "Could you pass me your mirror? Moony's got the other."

"Sure, it's yours, anyways," Harry said, tilting his head to one side as he pulled the mirror out of his pocket and handed it to him.

"It was your father's so rightfully yours," Sirius corrected before turning to the mirror and calling for Remus. The other man appeared quickly, looking anxious. "Everything's fine!" Sirius said quickly, and Remus’s face visibly relaxed, "Get somewhere private real quick, yeh?"

"Fine, fine," Remus responded with a huff of a laugh and the mirror went dark for a moment as he held it against his chest. It wasn't long until he reappeared.

"Your ward's talking about sleeping on the couch - figured you'd want to field this one since it was your idea." With that the mirror was passed back to Harry, who looked at the mirror in confusion.

"Oh, I am sorry," Remus said, putting a hand to his brow, "I only thought of it last night and there were so many other things happening at once - we're going to build a space for you at the cottage. It doesn't have to be a bedroom, but I think that's for the best if it's alright with you."

Harry's eyes widened, "You're going to build me my own room? Here?"

"Of course, really I should have thought about it as soon as Padfoot first got in touch with the solicitor," he pursed his lips and shook his head, "Naught to be done about that now. I picked up some spell books this morning to help us. You can look through and let us know what you'd like."

Harry found himself shaking and was vaguely aware of the sound of drops hitting the metallic surface of the mirror, which he was no longer holding in front of him. Then Sirius's arms were wrapped around him and at some point Remus was there as well and he was still shaking while tears fell down his face and he just stared owlishly at the bookshelf across from him.

Sirius began humming, the noise rumbling in his chest and Harry came back to his senses.

"What- what's that song?"

"A wix lullaby?" Sirius asked, looking to Remus who nodded in confirmation, "I think James and your grandparents taught it to us…"

"I dreamed it," Harry said quietly, wiping his face with his hands before a box of tissues was pressed into his lap, "when I was sleeping on you…"

"Really?" Remus asked with a warm smile, "Scent is tied to memory, some part of you must remember all those times you'd fall asleep on Padfoot while Lily and James sang to you."

Harry's breath caught in his throat at the feeling of being loved he'd woken up to, and trying to reconcile a life where a roomful of adults had all come together to soothe him as a baby. He tried to hang onto the lullaby, to the first happy memory of his parents, but it felt like it slipped from his grasp and he shook his head sadly.

"I can't remember it anymore…"

"We'll teach the lullaby to you," Remus said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

"And you are more than welcome to hug Padfoot whenever you need," Sirius added firmly. 

"It does help," Remus added with a chuckle, stroking Sirius's hair and giving a small tilt of his head that prompted Sirius to turn back into the dog and nudge into Harry, who didn't need prompting to wrap his arms around the fluffy neck.

—

Remus stayed for dinner, using apparition to get take out after Sirius went on about how it was a crucial part of life that his godson had thus far been cruelly denied. This resulted in buying considerably more food than they could possibly eat and Sirius insisting everyone tried it all.

It seemed to do wonders for Harry's mood, as well. All too soon Remus was insisting he head back.

"Do we have to?" Harry asked in response, his face crumpling.

"You two don't- although I would like you to spend at least a few hours there tomorrow. At least to see Ron and Hermione," Remus replied with a fond smile, "And you aren't sleeping on the couch - the bed's clean."

"Not waiting for Mad-Eye's approval?" Sirius asked with a smirk, popping a chip in his mouth.

"If anyone has an issue they are welcome to come here themselves and raise it," Remus replied with a small growl, "Assuming they can find it."

Harry gave a small laugh at that, standing awkwardly near them with his hands in his pockets.

"Sleep well when you do, then, Harry," Remus said uncertainly, hugging him and relaxing when Harry leaned into it. 

"Yeah, night," Harry mumbled.

"See me out?" Remus asked, looking at Sirius who nodded. They headed out together and Remus set up a silencing spell.

"You don't really have to go, you know, what are they actually going to do?" Sirius pointed out, crossing his arms.

Remus shook his head, "I don't feel right leaving Molly and Arthur there alone. Molly is terrified and miserable and I know she's taking it out on us but I just feel like one of us needs to be there." Sirius grumbled at this and Remus cupped his cheek with a smile, "We started school when the last war started - I know how much we lost - and she was a new mum at the time, an adult for all of it, and now her kids have started joining the Order and one isn't speaking to her because of it."

Sirius finally softened and nodded, "She's still horrible," he grumbled, pulling Remus close and nuzzling into his neck. 

"She's also been the closest thing Harry's had to a mum for the last three years, I know you would have been there if you could - but you couldn't. So she's earned some patience from us," Remus reminded him, running a hand through the long black hair and kissing his temple. Sirius just grumbled again, holding him close.

Chapter Text

Remus apparated onto the front step, not wanting the sound to ripple through the house and took a moment to just stare at the door before making his way inside. He could hear the bustle of dinner and attempted to make his way upstairs without being noticed.  Unfortunately, the twins had apparently been keeping an eye out for him as with a loud crack one of the red haired young men appeared at his side with a “Ah, there you are Lupin!” followed by another crack and the other appearing to “Mum’s been going absolutely mental over you, mate.”

“So we’re confident you aren’t just sneaky sneaking off-”

“Since none of us are getting any peace until she gets her hands on you.”

They each had a hand on his shoulder and ended it with an easy smile.  Remus huffed out a small laugh and placed a hand to his brow, “No chance of meeting with her privately, then?”

“Not without asking her first,” Fred said cheerily and they bodily directed him into the dining area of the kitchen. Tonks was there, entertaining the teenagers with her transformations, and Arthur and Bill were sitting on either side of Molly, who was cutting into her meal as if it had insulted her mother. 

“Look who we’ve found!” George called out cheerfully and as quickly as they’d appeared they were both back at their seats, casually looking over as if they hadn’t been strong arming him into the lion’s den seconds ago. Remus couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips.

Molly placed her knife and fork on the plate with a sharp clink and looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “Where is Harry?” she asked, her voice clipped.

“Safe,” Remus replied affably, “Would you like to take this somewhere private after you’ve finished your meal?”

“No, I would not, I would like to know if you two are going to keep disappearing without any notice or consideration just because you feel like it,” she snapped.

“I told you I was leaving,” Remus pointed out, “And, yes, I have a legal and ethical responsibility to drop everything if there’s an emergency involving Harry.”

Her face went pale at that and all heads in the room jerked up with various expressions of concern and fear.  Remus held his hands up, “Not… He’s safe, he’s - he’s not fine, I don’t know when he’s going to be fine - but he’s in one piece and no worse than he left.”

“You can’t just keep him from me!” Molly growled, and Remus did feel a pang of sympathy at the tears in her eyes, “You won’t even tell us where he is!”

“Yes, that is rather the point of a safe house and the Fidelius charm - and I’m not keeping him anywhere. He asked to go, he’s asked to stay.”

“He’s also asking to join the Order! Are you just going to give into his every whim?! He’s a child!”

“Molly…” Arthur said softly, “Remus has already told Harry he won’t allow it - twice.”

“While also planning on Harry to end up fighting again,” Hermione pointed out, her lips pursed.

“Remus Lupin!” Molly gasped, “You can’t possibly - he’s just a boy!”

“He was just a baby in 1981, and he’s been just a child every year he’s come face to face with Voldemort, Death Eaters, or both,” Remus pointed out, keeping his voice steady, ignoring the flinch at the name, “Are you so naive as to believe he’ll be able to just avoid something that’s happened 4 out of the last 4 years?”

“He’s been through too much already,” her voice was starting to wobble now, although her gaze was still fiery, “It’s our job to protect him - not turn him into a soldier.”

“He spent the day discussing quidditch with Sirius and hearing about his parents - what part of that, exactly, is turning him into a soldier?” Remus asked.

“I don't see why they can't do that here," Hermione said curtly.

"We're all stuck here," Ron added bitterly.

Arthur gave his children an apologetic look, "It is difficult on everyone being here," he glanced over at Remus, "Though perhaps it would help for Harry to be among friends?"

"I've told him he's to visit here tomorrow for precisely that reason," Remus said and Arthur nodded glumly, leaning back in his chair.  

"Or- we could go there? Finally get out of here," Ron suggested hopefully. 

"Ronald," Hermione scolded, "You don't even know where 'there' is."

"Can't be worse than here," Ginny pointed out with a raised eyebrow, "I know I'd be happy for a break."

The twins perked up at this line of discussion. "Oh, absolutely!" "No hard feelings about before, right, Remus?" 

“Ginny, boys, we can’t just- “ Arthur started.

“That’s enough!” Molly barked, standing up and vanishing the plates with a wave of her wand, “Everyone is done- go to your rooms! Now!”

Remus moved himself to the edge of the room, not too far from where Tonks was sitting.  She pushed herself out of the chair, cursing under her breath when she half tripped over it, and sidled over to him during the ruckus created by the Weasley children arguing with their parents.

“You’ve certainly made some waves,” Tonks mused, raising an eyebrow at him, “Shacklebolt asked me to come over tonight, Dumbledore said things might be interesting around here.”  She tilted her head to the side, “Does he know Harry and Sirius aren’t here?”

“I told him that sometimes they wouldn’t be,” Remus said quietly, looking at the ancient, weathered wallpaper, “He asked for Moody to check my fortifications. I did not agree to wait until he finished.”

Tonks let out a low whistle, “Merlin, Lupin, didn’t peg you for the mutinous type.”

Remus gave her a small smile, “Neither did I,” he went back to analyzing the wallpaper, “Until my best friends’ son was attacked by dementors in broad daylight, and if I’d been a bit more mutinous - it wouldn’t have happened.”

“You don’t know that…” Tonks started. He glanced over at her and she huffed, “Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough,” she smiled, “Mum’ll be glad to hear her cousin’s getting a break from this place, she’s been in a tizzy ever since I told her he’s innocent and stuck here.”

“Did Dumbledore give you permission to tell your mother Order secrets?” Remus asked with a soft chuckle.

“Sirius gave me permission to tell his favorite cousin that he is not, in fact, death eater traitor scum,” Tonks said, crossing her arms and smirking at him, “You should come to dinner sometime - to mum’s I mean, no one needs to see the state of my flat - I know it’d just be you, but she’d love to meet you and hear how her cousin’s been.”

“Maybe in the fall, after Harry's back at school,” he suggested, flashing her a wry smile, “What’s your mum’s opinion on bringing pet dogs?”

Tonks snorted and they turned back to the room, where the Weasley children were finally, begrudgingly, filing out with an irate Molly following behind them.

Bill and Arthur walked over to them, and Remus gave Tonks a small nod. 

“Give Molly my thanks for dinner, fellas,” Tonks said to them with a small salute, “I think it’s time I’m off.”

The three men bid her farewell and waited quietly until the front door closed.

“Mum’s really upset,” Bill said quietly.

“I know,” Remus sighed, “I don’t want to make this worse on her than it already is - truly I don’t, but … he needs time. Harry has been through too much, and a house full of people is a lot.”

Arthur and Bill exchanged a look, and Bill nodded before heading out of the room, “I’ll say goodbye to mum.” 

“I know that Molly is scared, Arthur, I won’t pretend to know how much she’s suffering - but I know that no one wants to be here,” Remus said softly.

Arthur shook his head, “I wish she would let us set up protections at the Burrow and stay there, but she just can’t bear it with the children,” he sucked in a breath, “I think she held onto the belief that Harry would be here and we’d keep him safe and all be together…”

“And now I’m wrecking that,” Remus murmured.

“She sees him as one of ours, and I don’t disagree,” he rolled his lips together then gave a fond smile and clapped Remus on the shoulder, “but that boy certainly deserves all the love and support he can get.”

“Sirius hasn’t made it easy for Molly to get along with him."

“No, and Molly hasn’t made it easy, either.”

"On the children's requests tonight - visiting…" Remus shook his head, "I will very happily tell them that I’m not willing to allow it and be the bad guy - because it’s the truth. It isn't just the state of this place, he needs some peace and a safe place to process everything he's faced in his entire life."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and then smiled warmly, "Molly still imagines you two as the rather reckless children you were when you first joined the Order - I do think once she realizes you are putting his best interests first, she will come around."

"If I can do anything to help that, do let me know, within reason."

"Thank you, having the hearing over with should help. Then we should be able to move back home after the kids are safe in school," Arthur said, "We'll both do our best to keep everyone happy til then."

—

The next day, Sirius rather begrudgingly returned to his childhood home at about 10am. This had given them time for an early breakfast, a bit of Quidditch practice, something more substantial to eat, and then about five minutes of Sirius trying to find increasingly ludicrous excuses to stay while Harry laughed.

Harry bid farewell to Hedwig, who had quite enjoyed her night of freedom, and placed his hand on Sirius's arm for the side-along.

They reappeared in Sirius's bedroom, and Sirius realized a second too late he'd never let his godson see his altar to his teenage years and wasn't particularly sure that he wanted to. He'd been stubbornly refusing to let it be changed, the proof of how much he had rebelled against his upbringing, and fortunately Remus met this with amusement. The muggle pin up girls were the pinnacle of the whole thing, really, given he was already in love with a boy when he'd stubbornly put them up. Admitting he was gay to his family was too far even for the surly rebel he had been.

Before he had a chance to hastily direct Harry out of the room, though, Remus was calling them over to his desk - the drawers of which had been emptied and meticulously organized on top.

"I found a letter from Lily! With a photo!" he said, holding them out eagerly to Harry who had rushed to cross the room after hearing his mother's name. Sirius craned over Harry's shoulder, reading the letter she had written to him all those years ago and smiling at the photo of the young boy flying around on his broomstick while his mother laughed.

"It's… it's weird to see myself without the scar," Harry said hoarsely, running a finger over his own forehead then the unblemished one of the toddler in the photo before staring at his mother.

"It was strange seeing you with it," Remus said softly and Sirius nodded, "There weren't any photos in the papers, everyone heard the story but the first time we saw it was when you were 13."

Harry gave a vague nod to that, lost in the letter and photo. Sirius stepped back, pulling Remus with him and muttered into his ear, "You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong…"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "You organize when you're worried and trying to get back a sense of control."

"No I just organize," Remus huffed, pressing his lips together before sighing, "Dumbledore's given me a mission, I have to leave this evening. Only a few days this time."

"Great," Sirius grumbled, "Same rules, then?"

"Sirius, please don't…"

"I'm not, I learned my lesson, I don't have to like it."

"It's a war, only psychopaths like anything about it."

"What's going on?" Harry's voice cut in and they both looked over with some surprise. 

Remus gave a sad smile, "Dumbledore's sending me on a mission - I have to leave tonight."

"What mission?"

"He won't tell us," Sirius grumbled, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the carpet.

"Can't tell you," Remus snapped, before putting a hand to his forehead, "It's one reason you may not want to be so eager to join the Order - it can restrict your ability to make your own decisions."

"Oh…" Harry said quietly, looking between the two of them and tilting his head to the side, "Dumbledore wouldn't make you keep a secret without a good reason, right?"

"He always has his reasons," Remus noted bitterly and Sirius made an irritated noise in his throat. 

Harry tried to return the letter and photo to Sirius, who shook his head and insisted he keep it. The boy smiled and carefully tucked them back into the envelope, holding it close to his chest.

"If you're gone… what does that mean? Are we staying here until you're back?" 

"Is that what you want?" Remus asked gently, and Harry shook his head without looking at him. "I would suggest spending as much time here as you can, stay until after supper, but no you don't have to stay here," he picked up his travel bag and pulled the books out of it, "You two can look through these and come up with plans for Harry's bedroom as well."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Sirius said with a grin, taking the books, "Might have it finished before you're back."

"Pads, please don't wreck that house," Remus said flatly, shaking his head.

—

Remus spent that morning in Sirius's room, which Sirius insisted was simply to let him rest up but there had been an edge to their interactions since the mention of the mission. 

Hermione and the Weasley children were delighted to see Harry, and slightly disappointed when he refused to say more about what he'd done yesterday than that he read about Quidditch and asked questions about his parents. He felt a bit of vindictive pleasure in being the one keeping them in the dark, after the unbearably vague and useless letters from the first month of summer holiday. 

Still, he was in a better mood and happy to help with the cleaning efforts.  They were still working on the tapestry room, now going through all the old objects to try and figure out what they were before throwing out most of them. It was fascinating seeing the different magical objects even if their purposes were certainly nefarious.

It went alright, aside from Kreacher's expressions of horror and rage, until it came to Orion's ring - the disposal of which led Kreacher to run from the room sobbing. 

A moment later, Remus poked his head in to ask why the house elf was in such a state.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "I threw out dad's ring - ruddy elf is obsessed with him…"

"Why-" Remus started, then cut off, noticing the open cabinet. "What are you doing?"

"We're just going through some old rubbish and tossing it," the man replied with a shrug.

"You're having four underage wix, who aren't allowed to use magic, handle dark objects," Remus said slowly, stepping into the room and peering into the bag, "Then dumping them together haphazardly…" he looked up at Sirius, "Do you at least know for sure what all these do?"

"Er, well, no…"

"Did anyone notice this locket looks a lot like a Slytherin relic and we might want to see if Hogwarts wants it?" Remus added, using his wand to gingerly catch and raise the locket no one had been able to open.

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Oh! If you're right, then I'll bet I can open it with parseltongue, like the Chamber of Secrets.

The bespectacled boy moved to take the locket and Remus just gave him an exasperated look, "Please remind me what opening the chamber released?"

"A basilisk sent to kill muggle borns," Ginny said flatly, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at Harry, who flushed.  All the teenagers shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of what she'd been through in her first year, and Ron grabbed Hermione's arm protectively.

"Thank you, Ginny, perhaps we should leave this to a professional to evaluate before we attempt opening it around four defenseless children," Remus said, turning to Sirius with a pointed look.

To his credit, the black haired man looked sheepish and was avoiding his gaze, "I could have handled it…"

"Don't forget we can use magic as well!" Fred added helpfully. 

"We aren't all defenseless," George agreed with a wink.

"Remind me what spell is best against an unknown curse created by a racist wizard hundreds of years ago and sealed in a locket," Remus said flatly.

The adults in the room immediately deflated and mumbled various excuses and apologies. 

"Alright, alright, everyone out," Remus said sternly, grabbing Sirius’s collar as he attempted to slink away, "not you."

"Do I have to…?" Harry asked.

"No, no, you can stay," Remus said, massaging his forehead with his hand.

"Why does he get to?" Ron complained as Hermione continued shoving him towards the door.

"I am allowed to favor Harry!" Remus said, pushing them out the door and shutting it.  He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before turning back around.

"Okay. I'm contacting Dumbledore about the locket, since it may be tied to Hogwarts. If he doesn't care about the rest - I have contacts that would be delighted to study all of these artefacts. Safely." 

Sirius nodded sheepishly, "I, er, guess that's better than just chucking them in the bin."

"I wish I'd thought of it before you had gotten this bone headed idea," Remus said wryly, "Now - your father's ring? Is there actually any magic on it?"

"I mean, everything my family owns has at least a few protections…"

"Padfoot. Let me test it."

Sirius growled, retrieving the ring from the bag with a summoning charm and holding it in his palm for Remus to do so. The Black family favored silver heirlooms, so it wasn't safe for the werewolf to touch, another reason Sirius was particularly keen to be rid of the lot of them. With a wave of Remus’s wand and muttered spell, a few different balls of light were shot at the ring.

"It's harmless," Remus said firmly, "Go - apologize to Kreacher, properly, and give him permission to keep that ring safe."

"What? But Moony…" Sirius complained, his fist clenching around the ring in rage, "You know what-"

"I do," Remus said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I also know that Kreacher is an unfortunate being who has never had any true control over his life, and doesn't deserve your wrath."

Sirius's shoulders slumped and he leaned his forehead against Remus's shoulder. "I hate this," he grumbled quietly and Remus just nodded, stroking his hair until he was ready to leave.

"Sorry, professor," Harry mumbled when they were alone in the room, hands in his pockets.

Remus gave a small, rough laugh, "I suppose I really earned that title today…" he shook his head, "You didn't do anything wrong, per se… although we may need to have a talk about recognizing when an adult asks you to do something dangerous and when to refuse…"

"Can't Sirius handle it? If anything did go wrong? He's a great wizard and he fought in the first war, right?"

For a long moment, Remus studied the teenager in front of him and considered the question.  He touched a hand to his chin and answered slowly, "No amount of magical knowledge can fully protect a person - I don't believe that Albus Dumbledore himself would simply start handling cursed objects without taking precautions first."

Harry nodded, looking at the floor.

"As for Sirius… he is a great wizard, however he is also still recovering from twelve years with dementors and this was never his specialty," Remus sighed heavily, "He can be cocky, and he's desperate to feel useful."

"He can still do a patronus," Harry pointed out, "That's advanced, right?"

"I don't think he could against a dementor, much less a bogart," Remus said heavily, "Which should indicate how he is- considering you could even after the graveyard."

"What if you're wrong? Maybe he could and you're just being too hard on him?"

"Hm," the tawny haired man smiled at him, "Well, unless you have a dementor we can test it on- it is better to be safe than sorry, I'm afraid."

"There's a bogart in that drawer," Harry said, pointing to the drawer Sirius had indicated earlier, "Or, it might not be? Is there a way to tell?"

"I do have some experience with them," Remus chuckled, walking over and holding his wand out while carefully checking the drawer over, "Yes I believe you're correct." He leaned back on his heels and looked over at Harry with a smirk, "Well, then, Mr. Potter, how do you suggest we test this hypothesis?"

"Well… if it sees me first, it'll turn into a Dementor and if Sirius can do a patronus then you'll have to admit you were wrong and give him more credit for being able to protect us," Harry said with a grin.

“And if I’m right - you’ll accept this was foolhardy, and you two won’t do anything more onerous than Quidditch practice while I’m on missions,” Remus said, standing up and offering his hand.  They sealed their agreement with a firm handshake as Sirius made his way grumpily back into the room.

“I was going to ask why you were still in here when it’s apparently so dangerous, but now it looks like you’re plotting behind my back,” Sirius said wryly.

“We are!” Remus chuckled, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Your godson thinks I’m being overprotective and underestimating you-” Sirius grinned at the boy when he heard this “-so we’ve come up with a wager. If you can conjure a patronus against a boggart-dementor - I’ll agree that I’ve been too coddling.”

Sirius’s grin fell and his face went pale, though he recovered admirably by quickly running a hand over his face and chuckling.  Remus raised an eyebrow at him and the man managed a smirk, “Shouldn’t be too hard - I’ve been using them to send messages all summer, after all.”

“Fair enough, perhaps you should consider the wager won, Harry,” Remus mused, opening the drawer with a flick of the wand. 

The room filled with cold and fog. The atmosphere of No 12 Grimmauld Place was already quite dreary, and what little warmth or joy had been in the room was extinguished like a candle covered by a snuffer. The foreboding, hooded figure loomed, skeletal hands reaching towards the boy.  

Sirius ran forwards, shouting “Expecto Patronum!” a small wisp of silver puffed weakly from his wand tip. A few more attempts produced nothing more substantial than cursing. As he shoved Harry out of the way the bolgart changed - multiplying into a swarm.  Remus cast his own patronus, which quickly herded Harry and Sirius away from it and stood before the boggart, shaking slightly.  As expected, it turned into the moon and with an easy ‘Riddikulus' and Remus caught the deflating balloon in a matchbox that he pocketed before rushing over to Sirius. 

The man was gaunt, shaking, eyes wide and wild and lost. His wand was on the floor, fallen from his hand and rolled away. He was also crumpled on the floor, the silvery wolf patronus curled around him protectively. 

Harry was shaking as well, standing a few feet away and watching with horror, "I'm sorry - I didn't-" 

"You did nothing wrong," Remus said firmly, placing a hand on his cheek and gazing directly into the panicked green eyes. He placed a chocolate bar into his hands, "Eat this and sit down, I can handle Sirius."

Then he crouched down in front of the man who was still lost to the memories of fear. Remus cursed internally, he'd only ever heard of bogarts turning into swarms of small things like insects or maybe even birds, certainly not something as large as blasted dementors.

He took out another bar of chocolate, smiling grimly at the amount of ribbing he sometimes got for keeping so much on hand whenever he could, and broke a piece off - pressing it to Sirius's lips.  Then he wrapped one hand around the back of the man's head and leaned close so his cheek was resting against black hair and he could whisper directly into his ear.

"It's okay, you're alright, you're safe, Harry is safe, it's gone now, it can't hurt you," he murmured, gently rubbing a hand down his arm. It took a bit more comforting but eventually Sirius leaned into him, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and deepening his breaths.

Then he pulled away and sat up with a loud, slightly shaky laugh, "Where did that moon bollocks come from?"

Harry leaned over, relief visible on his face, "His bogart's always been a moon, hasn't it?"

"A moon?" he was still laughing, a bit hysterically and tears were forming at the edge of his eyes, "It used to be Greyback! The werewolf that turned him! Monstrous bugger even as a human. That lesson - this vicious, snarling, wizard burst out with blood dripping from his mouth and hands - I think half the class pissed themselves!"

Remus leaned back and bit his lip, smiling as he watched Sirius's retelling.

"And this one! Oh it was before we were animagi, so the moons were brutal and he was this tiny little thing - believe it or not - nearly the smallest one in our year and he just let loose the most impressive stream of hexes and curses I think any of us had ever seen," Sirius wiped his face, the laughter settling and his breathing steadying again.  He grinned up at Harry, who was leaning against the arm of the couch and watching them, "This man is not afraid of a goddamned moon."

Harry just turned to Remus and raised an eyebrow. Remus held up his hands and chuckled, "I couldn't very well have that coming out at the class - Occlumency, essentially, as long as I'm expecting it I can convince the bogart of what my deepest fear is."

"So you chose to have a bogart that basically shouted 'figure out I'm a werewolf'?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Yes, well…" he cleared his throat, "I suppose the secrecy was getting to me."

"Then… if you teach me how to do that… that would be a good way to practice occlumency, right?"

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Remus said cheerfully, finally standing up with some creaking of his joints. He helped Sirius to his feet as well, "Sirius and I can have our patroni at the ready just in case, there's no real danger, and I don't have to keep invading your mind." He smoothed the wrinkles on his pants, "Not today, of course, and I know you won't be trying anything whilst I'm away, because…?"

"Nothing more onerous than Quidditch," Harry agreed solemnly.

"You've made your point, Moonbeam, I was reckless, I'm not at my best," Sirius said softly before turning to Harry, "I'm sorry you had to see that, Haz."

"I think it helped," Harry admitted, "It's nice - knowing I'm not the only one feeling so bad…"

"Well, Prongslet," Sirius said with a shaky laugh, wrapping an arm around his godson, "If that's what you need you are in fine company!"

—

Less than an hour after Remus sent the message to Dumbledore, the floo in the sitting room came to life. Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped out. They greeted a rather confused Remus, who showed them to the tapestry room. The entire household peered out of doorways in curiosity, even Molly couldn't bring herself to chide her children and miss something, and a pair or two of Extendable Ears was surely in use. 

Sirius made his own greetings when they came into the room.

"The locket?" Dumbledore asked gravely, "Which Harry suspects could be opened using parseltongue?"

Sirius passed it over. An unreadable expression crossed the old wizard’s face and he nodded before turning to Remus, "I must express my gratitude that you were able to recognize the potential importance of these objects. I was severely remiss in not considering that this house could contain such specimens."

"I just wanted to make sure they were disposed of safely," Remus mumbled, feeling a bit overwhelmed, "If they can be useful, well, that's good."

Dumbledore nodded and placed the locket in his pocket. There was an irritated, growling noise and they all looked over to see a rather large ball of orange fluff twitching his tail in agitation.

"Sorry, that's Hermione's familiar," Sirius explained, walking over to the cat, "Dead intelligent, helped me when I was trying to catch Pettigrew…"

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked with an amused smile, meeting the beast's eyes over his half moon glasses, "I must apologize to Minerva, I once told her I'd never seen a real cat sit as stiffly as she does."

"Er, yes," Sirius agreed as the cat hissed. He crouched down at it with a frown, "C'mon, luv, if you're going to cause issues I'll have to shoo you out…"

"Now then, Kingsley and Alastor will be assisting me in collecting all of the other potentially dangerous objects in the house. I must apologize for my failure to recognize the importance of doing this before the children moved in," Dumbledore bowed his head before gesturing to the two men. 

Moody made a point of going by Remus and clapping him on the shoulder, "Good show - couldn't find a damn thing. No one has any idea wix are in the area, much less a werewolf, and my best tricks couldn't pick up a thing.  Half a mind to accuse you of sending me to the wrong forest if I didn't notice an area that just doesn't seem to exist."

Remus smiled, "Now that is high praise."

"You got my blessing - I'd ask how you did it if I thought you'd ever tell me."

"If I did - I think I'd lose your blessing."

Moody flashed him a grin before clomping to the bag of all the objects that had been binned, grumbling as he did about stupidity and foolishness and the need for vigilance.

—

"Hey," Remus said softly, touching Sirius's arm to make him hold back before they went down for dinner, "My bogart - when I'm not expecting it - it's your body after the dementor's kiss. It has been since you were taken to Azkaban. Catching the one I used for Harry's class nearly killed me."

Sirius met his eyes and let out a shaky breath, nodding, "I'll be more careful, Moonymine, I promise."

"So will I," Remus breathed, kissing him briefly before making their way downstairs.

Chapter Text

The sudden visit from Dumbledore with two Order members was all the talk of dinner that evening.  The teens were buzzing with theories, and Molly had set aside her disapproval of the Extendable Ears to find out anything they’d picked up. Hermione had three different books on historical cursed objects with her that were being passed around. 

The three wizards had done an incredibly thorough sweep of the house, complete with silencing charms and muffling spells to foil attempts to listen in. The focus on the locket was a subject of particular interest, since it seemed to be what had prompted Dumbledore to start the investigation. 

“If it is a relic from a Hogwarts founder, that ought to be a pretty rare find,” Bill was musing. This was particularly relevant to his experience working as a curse breaker for Gringotts. “I’m hoping Dumbledore’ll call me in to help - I’d love to see what they’ve put together, wish I’d thought of it before you lot decided to start chucking it.”

“We didn’t realize it was anything valuable,” Molly chided gently, “Just dangerous - getting it away from the kids was our top priority.”

Remus made a remark about the dangers under his breath that resulted in Sirius kicking his shin under the table. 

“I’ll bet Dumbledore has you into his office this year, Harry, to open that locket,” Ron said with an eager grin, “You’ll tell us about what’s in it, yeh? I bet it’s something dead cool - maybe some treasure.”

“This is the same founder who hid a Basilisk in the school,” Ginny pointed out coolly, “There aren’t enough galleons in all of Gringotts to make me want to be there when it’s opened.”

“I’m sure Albus will have protections in place for Harry’s safety,” Arthur pointed out, looking over at his daughter with soft eyes, “and everyone else’s as well. No one wants a repeat…”

There was a brief moment of silence before the conversation went back to the excited speculation and gossipping.

—

The farewell was brief.  Harry wasn’t really sure what he had expected of it. He’d never had someone he cared about go away like this.  It wasn’t the same as waving goodbye to Ron and Hermione at King’s Cross station. On some level, it felt like he was seeing Remus’s scars for the first time, remembering he was about to go into potential danger, the risk there that he might not come back. His worn coat and old travel bag didn’t seem like nearly enough to keep him safe. Sirius had an arm firmly around Harry’s shoulder the whole time, and he suspected it was more for his godfather’s comfort than his own.

“It’s only short, love,” Remus insisted after kissing Sirius, “I’ll be back - in one piece, no less - before you know it.” He hugged them quickly and gave a fond smile to both of them, “Stay out of trouble, lads.”

Then the door closed behind him and he was gone.  Harry blinked, surprised by the urge to pull the door open and ask him to stay. For a moment he thought Sirius had noticed it, since the grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, but a look at his face told him that the man was feeling the same way.

Sirius closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before smiling at his godson, “Ready to head back to the cottage for the night?”

“We should probably say goodbye first,” Harry pointed out quietly, leaning against him.

Sirius nodded his agreement, or at least acceptance, of this. Everyone was still at the dining room table and Arthur seemed to be keeping an eye out for them as he quietly came over as soon as they appeared in the doorway.

"He's off, then?" the red haired man asked gently. Harry simply nodded in response, as Sirius remained stony. "You'll be off as well, but back in the morning?" Another nod and Arthur turned to the table, hesitating for a moment before smiling, "Everyone, Harry and Sirius are off for the night - we'll see them tomorrow."

Ideally, this would have been a non issue with farewells and everyone going back to what they were doing. Instead, the Weasley children expressed how unfair this was, Hermione scoffed her disapproval, and Molly was out of her chair and hurrying to the pantry insisting that they needed to take something with them. Sirius ran a hand through his hair and Harry just huddled into himself while Arthur argued with the kids.

"We could let some of them come with us tomorrow I guess," Harry said quietly.

"Not our call - boss already said no," Sirius pointed out, "and I'm not going against him while he's off, already pissed him off enough today."

Harry was visibly relieved and gave a small smile, "Oh, that's too bad…"

"Yes, Remus Lupin is a veritable slave driver," Sirius agreed mildly before scowling at Molly, "does she really think we don't have food?"

Harry elbowed him, "It's how she shows she cares."

"I-" Sirius blinked at him, genuinely startled, then nodded slowly, "Okay, yeah, that's- that's fair, sorry." He cleared his throat, "I'll go help Arthur."

With that he did make his way over to the table, where the Weasley children were still grousing at their father. 

"Mad-eye said it's safe! Mum can't ask for more than that!" Fred was insisting.

"It's not fair that we're all stuck here and Harry gets to leave," Ginny added, irritated, "Doesn't he need the most safety?"

"Who told you life's fair?" Sirius inserted himself, raising an eyebrow, "Because I've got more than a few ways life's not been fair in your favor over that kid."

"But why do we have to be stuck here?" Ron grumbled, "If other places can be safe?"

"Well you can always track down somewhere else with the same level of security and plead your case to the owner - then convince your mum to let you - bottom line is it's Remus's house, he hasn't agreed, so you're not allowed and there's no sense taking it out on your father," Sirius crossed his arms firmly.

Ron's ears went red and he sank down into his chair, something that was getting more difficult with every growth spurt. The teenagers did mumble apologies, although Fred and George also started muttering about how they could convince Remus. Sirius snorted at that, fairly certain they'd fail but also interested to see them try.

He and Arthur went back to the hallway, where Harry was being loaded up with food by a fussing Molly.  Arthur nodded to him, "Thank you - if nothing else it may give me a few days' peace."

"We have to figure out how to get them out. This place'll do anyone's head in," Sirius said quietly, looking warily at Molly.

Arthur ran a hand over his forehead and gave a worn sigh, "I would love that… I just can't imagine how…"

Sirius tilted his head to the side, "Well with you, me and Remus - that's already three Order members - if Bill and Tonks have a day off that's five Order members plus three trusted adults… Remus ought to know some secluded places out in the wilderness, shouldn't need to go to the same place twice. Not a trip to Diagon Alley, but get these kids some fresh air at least."

"That… almost sounds like it could be manageable each weekend," Arthur said with a crack of a smile, "Only wish we'd thought of it sooner. Just need portkeys set up. I'll talk to Molly about it then we can approach Dumbledore."

—

“Is it bad… that I don’t really want anyone else to come here?”  It was the next day. The heat wave that was sending droughts across the south of the country was still in force, but it meant the northern forest was still enjoying bright and sunny mornings.  Harry and Sirius were sat at the small table in the cottage kitchen, eating a combination of meats Sirius had cooked that morning and the muffins and fruit Molly had sent with them.  

Sirius tilted his head to one side and had a sip of coffee to wash down the mouthful of bacon before asking, “Why would it be bad?”

“I should want to see them more, want them to have a break from that place,” Harry replied, poking his fork at a sausage on his plate and not looking up.

“Mm,” Sirius nodded, taking another sip of coffee before resting his chin on his hand, “I’ve told you that I moved in with your grandparents when I ran away from home at 16,” he paused until his godson nodded, “That first summer- I didn’t really want anyone to visit. If I could’ve gotten your dad to leave, I think I might’ve,” at this, Harry finally looked up at his godfather and Sirius smiled, “It was the first time I’d ever had a place that felt like home and people I felt loved me and I didn’t want to share that.” He finished the cup and placed it down, “Ron and Hermione - they had their whole childhoods in loving homes. It’s alright to want some time to yourself.”

It seemed to be the right thing to say, as the boy just gave a small smile and went back to eating his breakfast. 

—

The clear out of the magical artefacts had left very little housekeeping to do. The three wizards had dispelled any unpleasant creatures they came across and also the absolute worst of the mess. It was quite appreciated, really, aside from the grumbling about why they couldn't have done it before anyone moved in.

While it didn't completely change the atmosphere of the dreary house, it at least gave the teenagers time and safety to actually enjoy themselves. Fred and George were mostly willing to use their magic for the others' entertainment, with pranks of course mixed in. While there wasn't space for broom riding, they could throw quaffles across parts of the house. Molly had finally accepted that it wasn't worth maintaining the usual manners when the children couldn't go outside and the owner of the house was genuinely okay with the behavior. That combined with the massive decrease in dangerous creatures and objects meant a considerably greater amount of freedom.

The sound of teenagers laughing, shouting, and running rang through the house like fresh air, even overpowering the screeching portrait that kept getting set off.  By the afternoon, Sirius just left her wailing, grinning to see his mother's sheer horror at children enjoying themselves in this Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Tonks came over that evening, arriving with Arthur as they had both left the Ministry at roughly the same time. They were both delighted to see the shift in mood. 

"It is so nice not having to worry about anything leaping out at you for opening the wrong drawer," Molly said with a happy sigh as she greeted her husband and noticed his surprise, "Still needs a bit of tidying, of course…"

"You have certainly earned a break from tidying, dear," Arthur chuckled, kissing her and pulling her into an embrace, "I'm so glad everyone is doing better."

"I wish I could have mum over," Tonks said wistfully, "It would do her heart good to see children actually enjoying themselves in this place."

"Unfortunately I'm not really allowed company," Sirius remarked with only a hint of bitterness, joining them and ruffling his cousin’s hair. She swatted his hand away in response and rolled her eyes. "Never realized how much those precious family heirlooms were weighing down the atmosphere. Still have to deal with the blasted portraits and elf heads - but it's better already."

"You're looking better than I expected, cuz," Tonks pointed out with a grin, "Thought you'd be sobbing over a pint of ice cream with Lupin gone."

"So glad your mother has told you about my teen years," Sirius said sarcastically, "Remind me to send her a ‘thank you’ bouquet - she still allergic to nettles?”

Tonks stuck out her tongue at him before turning to Molly and grinning eagerly, “I really appreciate you having me over again- is there any way I can help with dinner?”

“Oh, Tonks!” Molly said with a slightly strained smile, memories of Tonks’s last attempt to help coming to mind, “That is so kind of you, but really you’ve done enough and just gotten off work…” she said, touching the young witch’s arm.

“I don’t mind!” she chirped brightly.

“I’m sure the children would love to see you, why don’t you go and say hello?” Molly insisted, shooing her on.

—

The children were always quite delighted to see Tonks, of course, and Ron and Hermione used the ensuing chaos to pull Harry away into the bedroom he was supposed to be sharing with Ron. They had been trying to get him away from the others all day, but he had proved quite capable at making sure he was always engaged with Ginny or the twins.

When they got into the room, Ron and Hermione stood in front of the door and Harry just huffed and rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, mate, how long’re you going to avoid us?” Ron asked, sounding more hurt than anything else.  That helped melt some of Harry’s anger, and he just ran a hand through his unruly hair and sat on Ron’s bed.

“Okay, yeah, sorry, I know you were just doing what you were told…” he said, still sounding quite bitter.

“We really were, Harry,” Hermione said pleadingly, “We wanted to tell you more - everyone really wanted you to be here, too - Dumbledore kept insisting it wasn’t safe.”

“Would have been absolutely terrible if something happened like me being attacked by dementors,” Harry pointed out, rolling his eyes, “Good thing you all worked so hard to protect me.”

“Nobody could have known that would happen…” 

“Y’know mum would kill me if I went against Dumbledore’s orders…”

Their explanations and excuses started getting under his skin, so Harry just held up his hands and closed his eyes until they went quiet again. He had heard it all already and it hadn’t helped at all. 

After a moment of silence, when the only sounds were the laughter and banging from the others, Ron spoke quietly, “You really won’t tell us anything? About where you go off to with Sirius and Lupin?”

Harry rolled his lips together and for a moment sincerely considered saying no, but he’d spent enough time refusing to talk to them. It wasn’t like he had imagined from the letters, they weren’t having some grand adventurous holiday - they had been trapped in this miserable, dangerous, dirty place with nothing to do but try to eavesdrop in on how bad the war was.  He let out a sigh and then gave his friends a lopsided smile.

“It’s nothing that fancy, really, just a safe house Remus’s been using for awhile - a small cottage - and Sirius moved in after the…” he cleared his throat around the lump that formed when he remembered what had happened, “this summer. They’re just letting me go there to have somewhere calm and quiet after, well, everything that happened.” He finished sheepishly, looking down and feeling a bit foolish for needing that.

“Where is it?” Ron asked eagerly, “Is there anything cool nearby? Is it in a village?”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know-” he grinned and held his hands up again when his friends shared a look, “No, really! It’s in the middle of a massive forest - No one for miles around. There’s some farms at the edges and I think a village but nowhere near us.  I’m pretty sure Remus uses it for full moons, so it’s nowhere near anyone, and it was already warded to keep people out for that.”

“Oh, of course, I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that,” Hermione said, touching her cheek, “The wolfsbane potion isn’t cheap, he must have had to go without it after leaving Hogwarts.”

“That sounds terrible,” Ron said, shaking his head, “Sometimes I still have nightmares about his transformation that night…”

“I’m sure he has the potion again now, at least, surely Dumbledore would make sure he’s safe…” Hermione said nervously, looking at Harry for confirmation.

“I haven’t asked,” Harry admitted.

“The full moon was right before you were attacked, he may just not want to think about it yet,” Hermione said sensibly.  

“I wouldn't want to think about that, either, not if I didn’t have to,” Ron agreed, nodding before looking back over at Harry, “You said it’s in the forest - so is it all trees then? Not really great for flying, is it?”

“It’s better than here,” Harry chuckled, “I’m a seeker so it’s really useful, actually - wish I had a proper snitch, but Remus has an old book about how to charm balls into like snitches and bludgers so I’ve been able to do a little.”

“I’d love to get on a broom,” Ron moaned, throwing himself back on the bed, “I want to try out for the Quidditch Team this year, but I haven’t even touched a broom since last summer!”

“It would be nice to get out…” Hermione added quietly, “Poor Crookshanks has been especially stir crazy, maybe hunting mice in the forest would help his mood…”

Harry bit his lip at that, feeling a stirring of guilt in his stomach. He just shrugged, “It’s not up to me.”

“Yeh, it’s up to Lupin,” Ron said with a sigh, propping himself up on his elbows, “Hope his mission goes well - so he’s in a good mood when he gets back.”

“It might not be safe to have so many people go,” Hermione pointed out worriedly, “It’s really different having to hide loads of people compared to just hiding two.”

“Hiding a werewolf has to be worth a lot,” Ron pointed out with a grin, “Not like we’re going to be running around howling!”

“I would hardly put that past you, Ronald,” Hermione said coolly, though she was smiling.

—

It wasn’t long until they were being called down for dinner. As usually happened, this announcement was followed by the loud clambering of teenage feet coming down the stairs. Molly rolled her eyes and shook her head at the noise, smiling fondly as she finished getting the table sorted. 

Once everyone had gotten seated, Arthur placed a hand on Molly’s arm to stop her from serving dinner and then stood up. The usual chattering stopped and everyone looked up at him, with quite a bit of concern.  He smiled brightly.

“I’ve got good news,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Sirius and I came up with an idea yesterday - and I was able to contact Dumbledore and get permission. Tonks has agreed to help,” he gestured to her and she grinned brightly, “This Sunday, we’ll be able to have a small outing - all of us. Nothing terribly fancy, I’m afraid, but fresh air and a day out of this house. Myself, Remus, Sirius, Bill, and Tonks will be going as Order members for the purpose of defense. Remus should be getting back on Saturday to give a good location for it- although we’re looking into back up ideas to be safe. Dumbledore will arrange portkeys.”

The silence held for another moment, during which Arthur looked worriedly at his wife, before the room erupted with cheering. As all of the Weasley children, as well as Harry and Sirius, were Quidditch enthusiasts - this quickly turned into pleading to ensure it was somewhere that they’d all be able to practice. It was certainly the happiest meal any of them had had in what felt like a very, very long time.

Chapter Text

The news about being able to get a proper trip had brought an actual cheer to the house. If the happy ruckus of children was unexpected, the positively giddy atmosphere of the house was utterly surreal. Molly did get a bit teary when she realized Percy wouldn't be there, but was otherwise delighted to have a day out with her family. Even Kreacher seemed to have reduced his insults, possibly relieved to get a day's break from them all.

On Friday night, Sirius ended up finding Harry and Ron both asleep on Ron’s bed over an open quidditch book and a few empty crisp packets. He chuckled softly and placed Harry's glasses on the side table, making peace with spending the night in his old bedroom.

The next morning was Saturday, which meant the teenagers were allowed to sleep in - giving the adults a few hours of peace before the pestering would start again. The main question was when Remus would be back, as his intel was needed to finalize the plans. They quickly figured out not to bring this up anywhere near Sirius, as the man got fidgety and irritable. 

As Molly started dinner, the teenagers had settled into the sitting room with exploding snap and the radio. 

The easy lull was broken by the sound of barking and scrabbling of clawed toes on hardwood, followed quickly by a heavy thud and "Argh, Padfoot!".

No one came into the hallway or stairwell, although doors were opened and peeked through. In the kitchen, where Arthur was keeping his wife company although she refused his help, Arthur mused that he remembered when Molly used to greet him like that after missions - earning a playful swat and fond smile.

They got about two minutes before the teenagers were coming up with excuses to go down to the entryway. By then Remus had managed to mostly push the exuberant dog off and stand up, smoothing his clothes. He eyed the group with some trepidation before glancing over at the dog.

"Have I missed something?" he asked warily.

"Yes, and it can wait," Sirius said pointedly, eyeing the young wix who didn't even bother trying to look sheepish, "Let him have a bit of a rest and tea first."

"But we've been waiting for ages," Ron mumbled.

"It's just one question, really," Hermione offered hopefully.

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Alright then, if someone would care to tell me what’s going on.”

"We've managed to convince Dumbledore to have a day out tomorrow," Arthur explained as he joined the group.

"Out in the middle of nowhere, of course, but we're hoping you know a good safe place where we could practice Quidditch," George agreed eagerly.

"A good place for Quidditch?" Remus repeated.

"Thought it might be a stre-," Ron started with a sigh.

"Beach or grass?"

The teenagers shared a quick look before Fred piped up, "Grass."

"Wales or Scotland?"

"Wait - what would the options be for beach?" George asked.

Remus glanced over at Arthur with a frown before looking at George, "Wales - unless we can convince Dumbledore to do France."

"Next time," Arthur said firmly over the excited chattering this brought on, "Let's prove this can work in Britain before going abroad, eh?"

"I've never been to Wales," Harry commented.

"Oh, it's lovely, my parents took me camping in Pembrokeshire a few times," Hermione added.

"The weather'll be better there," Ron pointed out. 

"Are there going to be sheep?" Ginny asked, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"There were before Moony got to them," Sirius chuckled under his breath, and Remus elbowed him. He cleared his throat and spoke over the growing noise, "Alright, we've got the basic plan - now let him have a cuppa in peace."

—

The weather was agreeable, bright and sunny. It was a perfect day to go out, really, and Remus had found a large clearing in the middle of a Welsh forest that was not only fully secluded but perfect for practicing Quidditch.  It wasn’t long until nearly all of the teenagers, as well as Bill and Tonks, were in the sky. Padfoot was bounding around, enjoying the freedom, pausing occasionally to watch the game with wagging tail and enthusiastic barks.  Arthur and Molly mostly sat in the shade, or took walks around the perimeter hand in hand. Remus and Hermione, for the most part, simply read quietly, offering affection whenever Padfoot came back with some new find. Crookshanks mostly lounged in the sun, although did occasionally join the dog on his explorations. 

The flyers were overjoyed and particularly delighted by the spellbook Harry had brought with him. Fred and George eagerly took on enchanting the various balls - under sharp supervision by Bill - and they were able to cobble together a paired down version of the game that would work with so few players. The Weasleys were already used to this, practicing Quidditch on the school holidays had been a tradition since Charlie had first made the Gryffindor team.  The sounds of whoops and shouts soon filled the clearing. Molly had rung her hands over this at first, until Arthur and Remus went to confirm their alarms and repelling charms were working, and set up a few more noise-dampening charms for good measure. 

As the sun continued traveling in the sky, the game settled down. Eventually Molly called everyone back for dinner, a picnic that she had packed. As she handed food out, Remus did another check of the perimeter in earnest, confirming the wards held and there was no sign of any danger. Sirius went with him, performing his own tests and mostly enjoying the opportunity to stroll lazily without fear of being caught or attacked.

They all returned to Grimmauld Place with varying levels of sunburn, considerably less stir crazy.  By all accounts it was a complete success, and that evening Arthur was writing to Dumbledore about arrangements to visit a French beach next week.

—

The passing of the weekend meant that the Hearing loomed closer. There were only a few days left, and it brought some of the tension back to the house. As much as Harry wanted to put on a brave face, and knew that he had multiple people fighting for him, it weighed on him.  Even though he wasn’t allowed to use it, he still found himself clenching his wand - remembering the command to surrender it, knowing it could still be taken and broken if the Ministry chose to.  He grew quiet and sullen by Tuesday, the day before the hearing.

“I’ve asked Dumbledore if I can go to the hearing with you,” Sirius told Harry over breakfast that morning, “As Padfoot, of course, for moral support.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at this, nudging Sirius’s knee with his own, “If you miss Azkaban that much - I’m sure I can catch a dementor to keep around.”

Sirius scowled at him, “I’m not registered - no one knows I’m an animagus. It’s safe.”

“No one except all of the people who do?”

“Order members!” 

“And Peter Pettigrew.”

Sirius’s face darkened at that.  Harry cast him a sympathetic glance before looking up hopefully at Remus, “He won’t be at the Ministry, though, so it should be safe.”

“Death Eaters work at the ministry, Harry,” Remus explained kindly, rubbing Sirius’s shoulder and looking at the boy, “They also visit it - Malfoy in particular spends an irritating amount of time there.  You remember the spell we used to reveal Pettigrew? That forced him to become human?”  Harry nodded and Remus smiled grimly, “All it takes is one person to know - or guess - to use that spell on him in the wrong place and he’ll be back in Azkaban.”

Harry looked down at his plate.

“Will you at least let me see him off to Hogwarts?” Sirius grumbled.

Remus nodded, “It’s full of muggles - so it’s less likely anyone would risk the spell - and full of people so easy enough to get you out of there if needed.”

“Is it worth the risk, though?” Harry asked, chewing his lip.

“Yes,” they both agreed emphatically.  

“You’ll be going with a full guard from the Order and it’s muggle territory, he’ll be safe - he just can’t walk into the Ministry of Magic,” Remus explained with a fond smile.

“That’s something to look forward to at least,” Sirius offered Harry with a lopsided smile.

—

After Harry left with Arthur for the hearing, you could hear a pin drop in No 12 Grimmauld Place. Everyone was sitting around the dining room table, just waiting to hear something. Occasionally there would be the rustle of paper as someone attempted to read, or someone would try to start a conversation, but it quickly turned back into the tense silence. They were certain Harry was in the right, that if justice prevailed he would be back and happily planning his return to Hogwarts.  

They were also certain the Ministry was already being underhanded, and would pull out every trick in the books. They were already doing so. Dumbledore would be there to defend him, and had arrived at Grimmauld Place late the night before to discuss the plans for the day with Mr Weasley - who would be accompanying Harry to the Ministry. They decided to have Harry arrive in the least magical way possible, which unfortunately meant Harry and Arthur had to leave early enough to get the Tube to the closest stop and then walk the rest of the way.  If they’d been able to go by apparition, there would have been less time waiting. At least he would be apparated back, a small blessing.  

Remus was not attending.  Both Dumbledore and their solicitor agreed that Harry arriving with a werewolf would not help matters, as the anti-lycanthrope sentiment of the Ministry had been increasing in recent years.  He was thoroughly assured that Harry had all the support he needed and would certainly be cleared of his charges, but it still left him and Sirius brooding at the unfairness of it all. 

Finally, the front door opened. Ron and Hermione were the first ones into the hall, the first ones to hear the good news, which was repeated in a joyful shout and soon had the teenagers chanting a rousing chorus of "He got off! He got off!".

Harry found himself shuffled into the room with many celebratory back pats and hugs, and a roomful of people who were genuinely delighted to share in his good news.

—

For the first time since leaving the Dursley’s, Harry was able to fully look forward to going back to Hogwarts. His friends weren't keeping secrets from him anymore, either. Sometimes he'd get a stab of guilt that he was enjoying things while Cedric would never do anything again, but it was easier to move past now. 

The next morning found all three of them at Remus's cottage. Some of the lines that had creased his godparents' faces were gone and Harry realized how much the looming hearing had weighed on their mind.

As much as he wanted to just enjoy the moment, Dumbledore’s actions the day before were weighing on him. While they were relaxing after breakfast, music on the record player while Harry and Remus read and Sirius looked through the record collection, he closed his book and bit his lip.

"Do either of you know if Dumbledore is upset with me?" he asked quietly.

Both men shared a look before looking at him with confused frowns. 

"He certainly shouldn't be - why do you think he is?" Remus said.

Harry shrugged, looking down, "He didn't see me the night before my hearing - even though he was at Grimmauld Place - and then he barely looked at me after the hearing today."

"Well he really ought to have said well done or something," Sirius agreed, "But he's never seemed to have much time for individual students - I don't really remember seeing him much when we were in school. Minnie handled everything."

"Minnie?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. Sirius's face brightened and Remus placed a hand over his mouth to cover his smile.

"Padfoot - don't - she'll never -" Remus insisted, doing his best to sound serious while shaking with laughter.

"Professor McGonnagall, of course!" Sirius said with a broad grin, "We called her Minnie - she absolutely loved us!"

"Your father and Sirius spent so much time in her office, being disciplined, that they decided they were on first name terms with her," Remus explained.

"Professor McGonnagall? You called her Minnie?" Harry asked, incredulous, before laughing himself. 

"No one else dared, of course," Remus said with a fond smile.

"See? She wouldn't have let us get away with it if she didn't love us!" Sirius said smugly before looking at Harry, "And now it's your turn, young Prongslet, to carry on the mantle."

"I couldn't!" he laughed even harder.

"In fairness to the boy, Pads, Hermione is considerably better at keeping the lads in check than I ever was," Remus pointed out with a chuckle.

Sirius smirked, "The young witch who brewed polyjuice potion in second year? Oh, I think she's much more trouble than you were - just better at not getting caught!"

"That is true," Harry agreed with a grin, "Or what she does is so clever that the professors can't help but award points for it."

"You've got really good friends, Haz," Sirius said with a slightly sad smile.

An owl arriving in the window distracted them, with Remus rushing over to receive the letter. 

"Oh, I didn't expect her to be so quick," he said, looking slightly worried. He took the letter and sent the owl off with a word of thanks, his eyes brightening once he read the contents.

"Going to share with the class, Mr. Moony?" Sirius asked, raising a curious eyebrow. 

Remus nodded, not looking up from the letter as he walked back over to them, before holding it out so they could both read it.

It was paperwork from the Ministry of Magic, confirming that Remus J Lupin had been granted permission to train Harry J Potter in magic at home. This was a reflection, the letter stated, of the right all parents and guardians have in the United Kingdom to choose the form of schooling most appropriate for their wix children. It did not, the letter specified, impact the child’s eligibility to enroll in any wix schools as combination learning was an option protected under the Office for Standards in Education, Children’s Services, and Skills. 

Harry frowned at the paper in confusion, “If I’m reading this right - I can still go to Hogwarts, right?”

“Yes, but it’s formal acknowledgement of your right to practice magic as long as we’re supervising,” Remus explained with a small smile.

“Wait - if you’d sorted that out sooner, then this whole ministry hearing wouldn’t have had to happen?” Sirius asked with a groan, leaning his head back.

“Unfortunately, it wouldn’t have helped - and in fact could have caused quite a few problems for us,” Remus said with a grimace, “It’s only valid if an adult wix is supervising - and if there were an adult watching Harry that night, like there was supposed to be, they would have cast the patronus themself.”

“Damn,” Sirius grumbled, “Utter bollocks, making Harry go through that whole three ring circus. He’d been attacked by a dementor! It’s a patronus! What else would he have been doing with it?”

“Sending a message,” Remus reminded him gravely.

“What do you mean - sending a message?” Harry asked in confusion, “I’ve got an owl, why would the ministry care if I were contacting someone?”

Sirius shook his head, “The Ministry is able to monitor owls in a way they can’t monitor patroni - and Fudge has gone utterly mental, probably thought you were plotting his downfall with Dumbledore.”

Harry thought back to the Minister’s behavior during the hearing with a grimace. While Harry was quite biased, Fudge had seemed almost unhinged as he tried to blow every instance of Harry’s life into some sort of conspiracy and became enraged when there was a witness and perfectly reasonable explanation for it.  By the end, many members of the Wizengamot had looked genuinely embarrassed to have been a part of it.  At the time he was too terrified and nervous and then relieved to notice any of it, but looking back on everything - surely that wasn’t normal procedure for a bit of underage magic?

“You’re probably right. He was practically howling with fury during the hearing when Dumbledore was able to produce witnesses,” Harry said bitterly, then he shook his head to clear his thoughts because he had spent enough time already stewing on the Minister’s actions.  He turned to Remus hopefully, “So this means I can use magic outside school - with your supervision - I can actually practice spells? I know I can’t join the Order, but I can train to fight?”

“For the purpose of protecting yourself,” Remus said sternly, then gave him a warm smile, “And yes, that was rather the intent behind it.  I hadn’t thought we needed anything formal until you expressed concern about it being okay - and then the hearing,” he pressed his lips together for a moment before the smile returned to his face, “It wasn’t appropriate to put the request in until you had been cleared of all charges, so I’m quite impressed that our solicitor was able to get it sorted so quickly - she must have had everything ready to go as soon as the judgement was made.”

“That’s brilliant!” Harry said with a grin. 

Sirius was leaning forwards, grinning as well, “It really is - after the hearing nonsense I was sure we’d never be able to convince you to practice magic with us, Haz,” then he smirked at Remus, “And I’m sure you’ve already got a curriculum ready to go.”

Remus’s cheeks turned pink and he waved away the implication, “You say that like there’s something wrong with being prepared, Pads.”

“You have? Really?” Harry asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Of course I have - it’s been on my mind since I found out what happened in that graveyard,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair, “You’ve faced Voldemort 4 times now - Dumbledore is the only other person on this planet who can say that - no one needs Defense Against the Dark Arts more than you, and it’s absolutely negligent that I’m the only teacher who’s given you extra lessons.”

“Lockheart did,” Harry said with a smirk.

“That hack?” Remus asked with a disgruntled look.

“Yep - every time I had detention, he took over it and made me sign his fan mail while he lectured me about how to handle fame,” he was grinning now, suppressing a laugh at the expression this brought to Remus’s face.

Remus made a strangled noise in his throat before insisting that if anything like that happens again, Harry use the mirrors to let them know so they can fix it.

Chapter Text

By the morning before the full moon, the combination of the looming transformation and the potion had left Remus fairly exhausted. They'd all stayed at the cottage the night before and Sirius spent the day fussing over Remus, who mostly read or napped on the couch.

"I thought Snape was poisoning him that year - because he gave Remus that potion and he got worse," Harry said over lunch, frowning at him, "Is this really better than normal?"

Sirius gave a laugh, "Can't blame you for thinking Snape would poison him - I've been ordering these myself just for my own peace of mind," then he looked over Remus and frowned slightly before returning to his sandwich, "It makes him safe. And if he has to be locked up alone - it stops him from tearing himself apart."

Harry grimaced at the visual, but said nothing.

"I think it hurts a bit less as well, the actual transformation. But…" he shook his head, "The nights we were able to run free in the forest - your dad, the wolf, and me - Moony never tried to hurt himself or anyone else and I swear there was a wild joy in those eyes," Sirius's face was dark and he shrugged, "He doesn't think it's worth the risk. I won't argue."

"Wolves don't do well in small spaces, do they?" Harry asked quietly, "Real wolves, I mean."

"Even dogs don't- big ones, at least. Stick a big dog in a small space and it'll go stir crazy, tearing apart the furniture, and get aggressive as well," Sirius agreed.

Harry nodded, chewing thoughtfully.

"It's not the same and you know it, Padfoot - a dog or wolf bite isn't as serious as a werewolf bite, it's not safe," Remus called over. 

"I'm not saying you should transform in the middle of Trafalgar Square - just that it should be more normalized to have a safe, appropriately sized outdoor area with a healthy pack!" Sirius shouted back irritably.

"Sedating and removing the risk is a perfectly reasonable course of action."

"I still think we could get the positive side effects of the wolfsbane potion without the fatigue."

"Then study potions and get on it, because no one else thinks it's worth the effort," Remus growled. 

Sirius glowered at that response but went silent.

—

That evening, Remus took the last potion of the month and Harry’s godfathers wished him goodnight with some amount of fussing to make sure he had everything he needed and reminding him Sirius would be available in case of emergency. Considering he was 15 years old in a fully stocked house with ample magical safeguards, their concern was slightly over the top. It was still endearing considering the years he'd spent being locked away with brusque orders to keep quiet and pretend he didn't exist.

Harry settled into his new room, something that felt surprisingly natural. While he technically had had a "proper" bedroom in Privet Drive since his first summer out of Hogwarts, the Dursleys had made it clear that he was only there for the summers and was to leave no mark of his existence when he left. While he dearly appreciated his time with the Weasleys, he'd always shared Ron's room which was decorated with Chudley Cannons memorabilia and family photos.  It was lovely, really, it just wasn't… his.

They'd ended up creating an upstairs to place the room in, giving him a better view of the forest and avoiding disrupting any of the overgrown garden that Remus had become attached to. The wooden steps were fresh and had silencing charms to avoid creaks and covered with a runner of plush, sable carpet. 

At the top of the stairwell was a small hallway with a wide window and Harry’s door. His door had his name carved into it as well as a snitch whose wings fluttered when the door opened or closed. Sometimes he would spend time just standing in front of it, running his fingers over it. 

There had been some debate over the room itself. Ultimately it all boiled down to the same argument - Sirius wanting to lavish everything on his godson, Harry feeling utterly overwhelmed and muttering he didn't need much, Remus getting Sirius to settle down before coaxing Harry into allowing himself to want things.  Which was good, as if Sirius had had his way the room likely would have been quite like the Gryffindor common room with a bed - grand, ornate, large - and as much as he would have appreciated it, it wouldn't have been his. At the same time, if Harry had been asked to design his room it likely would have come out looking quite a lot like the one in Privet Drive. Practical, simple, just with a poster and some photos. 

In the end the room was on the smaller side, it felt cozy and homey and like it belonged in the small cottage. The carpet was a deep, warm, red and one wall was quite dedicated to Gryffindor flags and a poster, featuring hooks to display his Firebolt - but that was as far as the house pride went. For once he let himself think about what actually made him comfortable. 

The walls were painted a pale blue that reminded him of flying. He had a desk set up facing the window so he could sit at it and watch the outdoors, with a perch for Hedwig rather than her cage. His bed had a canopy of heavy draped fabric like the beds in his dorm, but the inside was a deep navy blue and the top charmed to show the stars of the night sky above him - even during the day. 

At first he had worried that the walls would be plain, since he'd had so little of his own. Then Remus and Sirius had surprised him with a box full of photos. They'd asked the Weasleys and Hermione if they had any photos, as well as Professor McGonagall for anything taken of him during Quidditch, and had also selected ones of his parents and himself as a baby. 

The room ended up rather covered with the smiling faces of all the people who loved him. 

It was perfect.

Yet, that night, he found himself completely unable to get settled. He tried reading a few different books, tossing around a few small spells just for the thrill of now being able to, doodled on a piece of parchment. Time ticked gradually by and he closed the curtains around his bed and willed himself to sleep. 

Eventually he looked up at the stars on his canopy. Only stars - it never showed the moon, which he knew was full and bright tonight. 

He had heard nothing from downstairs, which was unsurprising because of course two adult wizards could manage a solid silencing charm. Still, he couldn't help but hope it meant the transformation had gone smoothly. It was safe. He'd seen Sirius’s dog form loads of times. Was it so strange to want to see the wolf? 

He bit his lip and tapped his fingers against his blanket. No one had told him not to… But it had felt implied, and this would be the first time he really defied either Remus or Sirius. He wasn't sure how that would go, especially over this.

It was also his only chance until maybe Christmas - maybe next summer. Maybe never.

That thought tilted the scales and he was out of bed, toeing on his slippers and padding down the stairwell. The burst of certainty got him as far as the bedroom door before doubt clawed at him again.

It was his last chance to pretend this hadn't happened. Make himself a drink or something to justify being downstairs. Go back up, go to bed, do what he was told to do. 

Nervously he gripped the handle, knocking on the door as he pushed it open. 

It was brighter in the room than he'd expected, the curtains fully open and the moonlight shining in. His eyes had adjusted to the dark house and he could clearly see the wolf drowsing on the bed, face fully in the moonlight. 

Padfoot, however, was a shadow that practically disappeared. For a split second, Harry could see that the dog had been sleeping with his head over Moony's neck, then silver eyes were open and staring right at Harry. Seconds later, his godfather was at the door, standing to block Harry from seeing in. 

"Everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft and worried.

Harry swallowed thickly, nodding before managing to get out, "Can I see him? Please?"

Sirius’s face lit up immediately with a massive grin, though it quickly softened again and his eyes flickered behind him, "Course, gis a minute."

He left the door open slightly, but Harry still took a step back. It felt intrusive and he had already pushed enough. A moment later, Sirius was back, pulling the door open and placing a hand on Harry’s arm to guide him inside. The wolf was up now, stretching before settling into a seated position. Yellow eyes were open and watching.

Harry felt his breath catch. It wasn't like Padfoot - for all his size, he was still a dog. There was a domestication to the form that the wolf completely lacked. It registered on a deep level, like his bones still remembered what it meant to stare into the eyes of a wolf. 

"Woah," he whispered, frozen in place.

Then the wolf cowered slightly and Sirius was running a hand over the animal’s head and neck, murmuring reassurances and he remembered that underneath was still Remus. He looked at Sirius, who gestured him over while continuing to keep his attention on reassuring the wolf. 

"He's worried he'll scare you," Sirius said fondly, patting the bed for Harry to sit - with a huff of indignation from the wolf. "That tomorrow morning, you'll just see the monster."

"I saw him transform, at the end of third year," he pointed out softly and Moony gave a pained whine at the reminder.

"Oh, hush, you daft old thing," Sirius cooed before looking at Harry with a small chuckle, "I didn't say he was being sensible - I said he was scared."

"Can I pet him?" 

"Yeah, it's like a dog. Stay away from his muzzle. Even though his bite isn't dangerous, he'll get antsy if he's worried he'll cut you," Sirius said, taking his hand and guiding it to a spot behind the wolf's ears. The fur was rough, but it was enough like a dog's that he just automatically started scratching the area, earning a contented sigh from the wolf. Again, Sirius beamed at him, ruffling his hair.

—

The morning after the full moon, Remus woke up groggy and achy as usual. The aches weren't as bad with the potion, the grogginess was worse. 

As with the last full moon, he also woke up partially underneath a mass of black fur. It was summer, so too warm for it, but the emotional comfort outweighed the downsides. He pulled himself to sit up, his mouth and throat parched, and was startled to see the teenager curled up on the other side of the dog, fists wrapped in his fur.  Padfoot just opened a groggy eye and gave what could only be called a smirk.

—

The rest of the month passed too quickly. The last few weekends of the summer saw the household taking a day out. Each time was somewhere different, and while this was a necessity due to safety it only felt like a luxury in practice. They even managed to get to a French beach, the first time any of the teenagers had left Britain. 

The trips were absolutely lovely. While they couldn't fully make up for the dreariness of being stuck inside No 12 Grimmauld Place, they certainly made it considerably more bearable and meant everyone would have at least a few fond memories of the summer.

Hermione and Ron had been made prefects, to the delight and pride of everyone. It had been difficult, at first, for Harry to feel passed over - but being reminded that James hadn't been, either, helped him get over himself and remember that Ron deserved the recognition that he too rarely received.  

Molly and Arthur were overjoyed. It was desperately needed good news. Sirius had overheard Ron’s conversation with his mother about getting a broomstick in celebration. He'd pulled Molly aside and convinced her to let him cover the difference in cost between a Cleansweep and a higher range Nimbus - adamantly insisting she not tell anyone other than Arthur that he had helped. 

Ron was, of course, over the moon when he received it, falling over himself to express his gratitude to his parents.

Then, all too soon, the books were bought and the trunks were packed. The guard had been arranged and Sirius found himself standing on four legs outside his childhood home, preparing to say goodbye to his godson again. The goodbyes had already been made, really, there wouldn’t be time for anything formal - but it was the proper seeing off. For the journey he stuck as close to Harry’s side as he was allowed, and was deeply grateful for Remus’s gentle nudges and touches to help him stay settled. 

Handshakes and hugs were shared all around, Sirius leaping up on Harry to Molly’s protests, then the children were on the train. The Molly, Remus, and Sirius stayed until the last whistle blew and the gleaming red engine chuffed out of sight.

Chapter Text

Now that the children had gone off to school, Molly and Arthur were returning to the Burrow. As promised, Remus went with them to ensure adequate protections were set up to help them feel safe. Despite some argument from Molly, Sirius went as well - keeping in dog form and just lying in front of the fireplace. By the time Remus had finished assisting with the wards, Molly was insisting both of them stay for tea and scones and was placing a reassuring hand on Sirius’s shoulder.

“It’s not easy, the first time they go off to Hogwarts,” she said fondly, waving away their attempts to object, “And this really is your first time seeing him off. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.” 

They both gave a tired smile in response, and Sirius tapped his fingers against the pocket where he carried the two way mirror.

—

The rest of the day was spent curled up in their bed at the cottage. To Remus’s surprise, this time Sirius didn't retreat into his dog form. The silence of the house felt strange, as did the long stretch before Christmas where they'd be mostly isolated again. The start of the summer together, just the two of them, had felt like a blessing. Now there was an empty space.

It was hard to believe Harry had been sent off to safety, given the track record of his time at Hogwarts. The best they could hold onto was that he'd been sent off to good friends and the comfort of routine. He didn't have to be hidden away and isolated, free to move about the castle and visit Hogsmeade and be around people. That mattered. A lot.

Late that evening, the two way mirror activated and Sirius grabbed it hastily and looked in with a smile. He could just see the red of the curtains that surrounded Gryffindor dorm's beds behind Harry. 

"Settled back in, then?" he asked pleasantly, leaning back against the headboard. 

Harry nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah - er - yeh the feast was…" he trailed off, "The new DADA professor is the woman from my Hearing, Umbridge, Hermione thinks the ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

"That toad of a witch?" Remus asked scathingly, and Harry smiled slightly, "Merlin, that explains the book for this year…"

"You know her, professor?" Harry asked, glancing over as if it would move the scene to remind Sirius to adjust it.

"She introduced a lot of anti-werewolf restrictions a few years back," Sirius supplied gravely, shaking his head in disgust.

Harry wrinkled his nose and frowned to hear that. 

"Aside from that - is everything alright?" Remus asked gently.

"Course. It's the first day. Not like anything could really happen," he replied with a smile that looked decidedly forced, "Oh - Malfoy recognized you, Sirius. And his dad was at the ministry for my hearing, so it is good you didn't go."

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically, "Ugh, great, now I have to put up with Moony saying 'I told you so'!"

"No, you have to put up with me saying 'You're welcome for keeping your stubborn arse out of Azkaban'," Remus corrected with a smirk before looking back at the mirror, "Harry - I need you to understand this is not a problem. I promise you that Voldemort was already well aware how much Sirius cares about you and that he'd be as close to you as possible. If anything, it tipped their hand by proving that they can recognize Sirius’s animagus form. Seeing you off was not an unreasonable risk, and I'll make sure your godfather doesn't do anything daft."

Harry let out a long breath and nodded, his shoulders softening, "Good. Thank you."

"You don't have to worry about me, Haz, I can take care of myself," Sirius pointed out.

Remus chuckled slightly, "The boy saw you living in a cave, eating rats, forgive him if he questions your survival instincts."

"I'm really glad you're not alone anymore, Sirius," Harry added quietly. Sirius simply looked startled and blinked at him a few times, while Remus’s cheeks turned pink. Harry wasn't looking at them, though, and after a moment of silence he blurted out, "Seamus thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore is mad to believe me about Voldemort - we got into a fight about it."

"Is that someone in your dorm?" Remus asked and Harry nodded. "That must be very difficult."

"He's not going to be the only one," Harry said hollowly, "I don't know how many people are going to have a go at me for it."

"With the way the Prophet has been going after you all summer…" Sirius agreed bitterly. Harry nodded.

"It's not nearly the same, I know, because most people didn't know about it - but having my friends' support about my furry little problem made a world of difference. There are people who believe you - keep them close," Remus said.

They were all quiet for a moment, then Harry smiled slightly, "Okay, yeah, I can do that, that makes sense. Thanks."

"We're here whenever you need us - I'll let Moony keep hold of the mirror so if you can't get somewhere private you don't have to worry about anyone seeing me," Sirius said.

The boy flashed them a grin before the image faded and it returned to being a regular mirror. Remus and Sirius both leaned their heads back against the wall.

"Umbridge. The woman doesn't have an iota of relevant experience," Remus muttered.

Sirius snorted, "Would you be okay with this if she was a legitimate professional?"

"Before I was bitten, my dad was a raging tosser about werewolves - but he knew his defense," Remus pointed out, "Most defense experts hate werewolves, I was absolutely mad to pursue the career. Right now I'm more concerned about whether Harry is being properly trained."

Sirius kissed his cheek, "You always were the best of us."

—

Minerva McGonagall had a rather full plate, thank you very much. She was more than accustomed to a demanding schedule and heavy workload, of course, but this year was really taking the cake. The Ministry was breathing down Dumbledore’s neck more than usual, the Order was in full swing, the Prophet was running a smear campaign, and on top of everything she had to deal with that pompous pink puffball as a colleague.

Owls had poured in over the summer expressing concern for the students' wellbeing and disdain for Dumbledore’s claims that You-Know-Who was back. Then there were the ones who believed him and were afraid for the students' safety. The amount of time the Heads of Houses had had to spend reassuring fretting parents - it was a miracle they’d had any time to prepare for their lessons.

Suffice to say, the last thing she needed at the moment was meeting with a disgruntled, demanding guardian. Yet, that was what faced her on the very first evening of classes.

"I must say, Remus, when Draco Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin I had believed I'd dodged these sort of meetings," she said wearily as the man came through the floo, gesturing for him to take a seat on the other side of her desk. She pressed her lips into a thin line, "And then this summer happened and I do suspect you are about to cause me even more of a headache than you had as a student!"

Remus smiled wryly at her, "Yes, but I'm afraid this time I'm doing everything by the book."

"Of course you could make that sound even worse!" 

He chuckled slightly before clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "As you're aware - I'm legally Harry’s guardian. Specifically I have the right to make educational decisions for him, which includes being allowed to either replace or supplement the lessons he has at Hogwarts."

"Yes, something not many take advantage of, but there is precedence," she agreed warily, "May I assume this is regarding our new defense professor?"

"Truthfully - no. She's why I'm pestering you at the start of term, but we would have had this conversation by Halloween even if he'd had an incredible professor. You know the risks he faces - he needs extra, higher level training."

"Yes, and I am aware that was something you provided Harry during your year here," she said stiffly, then she softened and her lip twitched up ever so slightly, "Without which - Harry may not be here today."

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a fond smile, "If you had a competent professor - I would have been willing to offer for either myself to train him, or leave it with them…"

"But instead we've got a government pencil pusher with no formal training or experience in advanced defensive magic," McGonnagal said with a smirk, "Of course you didn't hear that from me."

"Certainly not," Remus agreed conspiratorially.

Minerva looked over him for a minute before sighing heavily, "You're aware of the scrutiny against Harry. What you may suspect, given the appointment of Dolores, is that the Ministry is throwing its weight around at Hogwarts. Due to this - I must ask you to please keep Harry in her class and keep this under the radar."

"As long as she doesn't mistreat him and we're able to arrange weekly supplemental lessons, I can accept that," Remus said with a nod.

"Lessons that it would be best no one knows about. I am hoping you have a solution to that - rather than having a known werewolf strolling into the front door each week?" 

"Well now I want to do that," he said with a grin, "We've got two options - either you facilitate me arriving in a fully above board fashion that would likely garner some attention…"

"Or you do something that I'd rather not know about. Don't think Hogsmeade didn't report you lot showing up outside the permitted weekends. Didn't even change out of your uniforms!" she said, shaking her head, "You understand the risk to Harry if he's caught - so I’m choosing to trust that you’ve gotten considerably better at hiding your tracks since your misguided youth.”

“You know I have,” he pointed out pleasantly and again the corner of her mouth twitched up slightly. “I’m afraid I do have one more demand - which I know will make things harder for you.”

Minerva closed her eyes and placed a hand to her forehead, her nostrils flaring for a moment before she waved her other hand in a gesture for him to get on with it.

“He doesn’t do detention with Dolores Umbridge,” Remus said firmly.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and took a sharp breath before opening her eyes again, “As you know, professors are typically allowed to assign the punishment they feel appropriate for detention.”

“Yes - and I also know you allowed that hack Lockhart to take over Harry’s detentions,” he pointed out with a toothy grin, “I don’t want him spending a second longer with her than he has to - and certainly not alone.”

“This is a different circumstance - the ministry is already looking for excuses to be paranoid about the boy, I really don’t think it’s appropriate,” she insisted tersely.

“I understand,” he said gently, “But I need you to understand that right now I have more money than I know what to do with, time on my hands, and a fantastic legal team that knows how to handle things while covering up certain indiscretions. I do not trust Harry’s safety when it comes to that woman - and I’m even being generous and not insisting no detentions with Severus.”

“Yes, I’m aware you three haven’t gotten over your grudges. He still looks at that boy as if he were James - when he’s frankly got much more of his mother in him,” she grimaced, shaking her head, “You’re lucky I know you so well and ultimately agree with you. I don’t appreciate threats.”

“I don’t like having to make them,” he replied, “I also appreciate that you aren’t trying to convince me Harry won’t possibly get any detentions with her.”

“Yes, well, he’s in his first one as we speak,” Minerva replied with a resigned sigh, “I suspect Filch is going to be getting a lot of help with his caretaking duties this year…”

Remus’s face darkened slightly and he just nodded, “That is exactly what I was afraid of.  Thank you, Minerva, and do let me know if there’s something I can do to help.”

“I will, Remus, it’s quite the relief to finally have family I can contact for Mr Potter. I don’t need to remind you that owls are being tracked so you can’t tell Harry about the situation by post?”

He just winked at her, “Don’t worry - we’ve got it sorted.”

Minerva simply bit back a groan and waved him away. The less she knew about that, the better.

—

“Mr. Potter, stay back and see me after class.”

The first transfiguration lesson of the term had just ended and a few people cast curious looks. Some were sympathetic, others suspicious.

"D'you know what that's about?" Ron muttered, glancing towards the front of the room where McGonagall was shuffling papers.

Hermione frowned, "You'll tell her about your hand, right? What Umbridge is doing to you in detention?"

"I'll talk to you about it later, alright?" Harry said, keeping his head down as he shoved his things into his bag and biting his lip. He was pretty sure he knew what this was about, and hadn't had the chance to tell his friends yet.

Ron and Hermione gave him one last concerned look before leaving, and Harry made his way to the front of the room.

"'Lo, Minnie, have a good summer?" Harry asked with a lopsided grin.  

Professor McGonagall stilled and gave him a pointed look over her glasses before shaking her head, "Those boys…" Fondness slipped into her voice.

"Now, then, Mr Potter - I spoke with your guardian yesterday evening," she began, straightening herself.

"Remus? I know. He told me you'd agreed to let him train me in defense," Harry said hopefully.

"You know already?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Well that is correct. Friday evening, after classes but before curfew, each week. I left the exact details of the time and location to his discretion," McGonagall explained before fixing Harry with a stern look, "You've already managed to get on Professor Umbridge's bad side, and from this summer I'm sure you're aware of the ministry's feelings towards you - it is in your best interests to keep these lessons close to the chest. I'm aware you'll tell Miss Granger and Mr Weasley, but I would not share it beyond them."

"I know, professor, Remus said the same thing last night."

McGonagall nodded her head, "As he should."

"He also said… about detention…" Harry added, rubbing the back of his hand that was still sore from the previous night's detention with Umbridge and the quill that cut into his hand. 

"As your head of house, I must stress that you ought to be avoiding detention and particularly ought to be keeping your temper when it comes to Dolores Umbridge," she said, giving him a stern look, "However, yes, should Professor Umbridge feel the need to assign you detention - it will be under my authority. Most likely you will be doing tasks for Mr Filch."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and McGonagall frowned in response. His cheeks flushed slightly and he made sure his hand was hidden behind his back. He had already made up his mind not to let anyone know about the punishment, he didn't want to risk Remus or Sirius doing something drastic. Ron and Hermione had noticed the marks, though, and were pestering him to tell someone. Now he could say that he wouldn’t be doing it again. Not having to endure another evening like that was a massive weight of his shoulders.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said with a small smile.

Her face softened slightly, "Run along now, Potter, best not be late for your next class."

—

"You cannot dictate what detention I give during my lessons!" The shrill voice echoed in the pink, doily and cat plate covered room that was Dolores Umbridge's office.

"This is out of my hands, Dolores, parents and guardians do have a right - protected by the ministry - to make such requests," Minerva reminded her curtly, "You may give Mr Potter as much detention as you feel is appropriate for his behavior, however it will be up to myself to decide how it is to be spent."

"We shall see what Cornelius has to say about that," she snapped testily.

"Indeed. Be sure to pass this on to him when you do," Minerva said, handing over a small card. Dolores gaped at it. "That would be the contact information for the solicitors that handle Mr Potter's guardianship - I have been informed they are prepared to take action should this request be denied."

Dolores's face had gone an ugly purple with fury and she snatched the card out of Minerva's hand, her eyes bulging out of her face when she read it, "That boy was raised by muggles! His hearing was handled by Dumbledore! You can't expect me to believe he suddenly has magical representation."

"Do consider contacting them to confirm, Dolores," Minerva replied coolly.

"Who is his guardian?" she demanded through gritted teeth.

"I'm quite sure it is not my discretion to reveal students' private information. Now as enjoyable as this conversation has been, I must be off," Minerva replied, tilting her head in the smallest semblance of a nod before sweeping out of the room. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passed in a fog of essays and lessons. OWLs were that year and the professors had clearly increased the workload in response. Harry had never had so much homework. The DADA lessons did not improve although Harry had managed to bite his tongue in them. He still had the detentions she had already assigned, which he was now serving with Filch - scrubbing things by hand while the bitter old man snarled insults at him. By the time he made it back to his dorm, he struggled to keep up with the homework that was already piling up.

He reached the end of lessons on Friday very nearly forgetting that he still had the additional defense with Remus. This meant he had not spent the rest of the week worrying about the problems it may cause, and also that about halfway through dinner he had groaned at the realization he technically still had more work to do. 

If Remus expected him to write essays as well, he just might cry.

Hermione and Ron were both on prefect rounds that evening. Harry couldn't help but wonder if the timing had been on purpose, McGonagall ensuring the two not sneak into the lessons. He had his cloak in his bag so he wouldn't have to return to the dorm and risk running into anyone - and with the looks he was getting in the hallways he was considering using it more often.

As he stepped out of the massive front doors, he noticed Crookshanks stretched across the stone step to catch the last rays of sunlight of the day. He smiled slightly, "Snuffles said you helped him get under the willow - don't suppose you want to save me the trouble of finding a branch?"

He had already started draping the cloak over himself and walking away, not expecting any response. He certainly had not expected the cat to start off at a trot, orange tail high in the air.  Under the cloak, Harry frowned in confusion before rushing off after him.

With practiced ease, the cat dodged the Whomping Willow's branches and pressed the knot that froze it. Again, Harry paused in disbelief before the cat yowled irritably and he rushed into the hidden tunnel. Crookshanks quickly disappeared ahead of him and Harry heard a familiar, bark-like laugh. His heart pounded in his chest and he ripped the cloak off, clinging to it this time, as he rushed into the familiar room.

Only, it was not familiar. For the third time since leaving the Great Hall, he stopped in surprise. This time his mouth gaped open.

The decrepit, abandoned, battered building he had visited at the end of third year had, at least in this one room, been completely transformed. The floors were a gleaming hardwood stained dark, the walls draped with a warm taupe fabric, and lamps provided a warm glow throughout the room. There were about a dozen targets arranged somewhat haphazardly as well, which Remus was shifting with his wand.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted in delight, pulling him into a one armed hug, Crookshanks comfortably nestled in the other. Noticing Harry gawping at the room he grinned, "Decided not to let our newfound design skills fall to disuse."

"There's cushioning charms on all the walls," Remus added, giving him a quick hug as well.

"Should he be here? Is it safe?" Harry asked, looking at his godfather and worrying his lip.

"Perfectly. There are plenty of wards still up to ensure no one wanders in. It's why it's still abandoned and the local kids haven't taken over it," Remus assured him, "And I've added a few more - including silencing - to be safe."

Harry nodded warily.

"It's useful to have him here - first, he needs to study defense as well, he's gotten terribly rusty," Remus continued and Sirius rolled his eyes, "He's also experienced with the dark arts thanks to his upbringing - not today, but you'll be able to duel him for practice."

"Perks of being a Black," Sirius said with a dark smile that was quite offset by his continued cuddling of the ginger cat.

"And you swear that he won't be caught? It's not worth the risk if he could be," Harry said, crossing his arms.

Sirius scowled at this but Remus just smiled fondly. "I'm glad you're being cautious. I solemnly swear that I won’t let him endanger himself - I would also be a bit distraught if he got himself back into Azkaban.”

“Just a bit,” Sirius echoed wryly, smirking at Remus. Then he turned his attention to Harry, “You said your scar hurt during your detention with Umbridge.”

“Yeh - you said that would probably just keep happening now that he’s back,” Harry agreed.

“It was late, and we had this to plan so I didn’t say it then, but that may not be all it is,” Remus said, tilting his head to one side, “Especially given the timing of it - what emotions were you feeling at the time?”

Harry grimaced as he remembered the detention, rubbing the thankfully healed skin on his hand. Remus and Sirius exchanged a concerned look but said nothing. His scar had specifically hurt when Umbridge had taken his hand to look at the wounds her quill had inflicted - it was some of the strongest hate, disgust, and rage he’d ever felt towards a person. Eventually Harry just shrugged, “I was pretty angry.”

Remus nodded, “My scar from the bite  - when I get particularly angry it’ll ache. It’s not impossible that yours is the same, or perhaps when your own temper flares it makes it easier to access his emotions," he smiled grimly, "and this school year will likely be rather enraging.”

“Great, so on top of everything else my head’s going to feel like it’s about to split open,” he said blandly. 

“I’ve found meditation helps - it also helps with occlumency - and considering everything that’s going on, I think it’s a good place for today. Something a bit easier after the excitement of the week," Remus said.

"But first you get to blow things up, if you'd like," Sirius added with a grin, nodding towards the targets. Harry grinned back, dropping his bag onto the floor and taking aim with his wand.

—

The lesson left his spirits considerably lifted. The meditation seemed like a bit of faff, but it had come with a cassette player Remus and Sirius swore had been spelled to play in Hogwarts - a relic from their own time at school. If it did work, Harry wasn't sure if he should tell Hermione or not. She was quite attached to the idea this wasn't possible.

He was to sit on his bed and listen to a ten minute meditation tape each night before going to sleep. That was the 'homework', and it certainly seemed doable. Wasn't much excuse not to, although he doubted it would help. It had also come with a few tapes of the music that he'd most enjoyed that summer. There were also two mix tapes - 'Rage Screaming (set a silencing charm)' in Remus's careful hand and 'Ultimate Dance Mix' in Sirius’s messy scrawl.

On his way back to the common room, he ran into Hermione and Ron - back from their rounds as prefects. 

"How'd it go?" he asked, noticing Ron looked a bit miserable.

Hermione, however, looked quite proud, "Mine went rather well. 

"Fred and George had some fun at my expense," Ron said gloomily.

"You are a prefect, Ron, you don't have to stand for it!" Hermione reminded him.

"They're my brothers!" Ron shot back, "Things are already bad enough with Percy being an absolute prat and turning on the whole family - I don't want them to think I'm doing the same!"

Hermione looked shocked, then her face softened - but not before Ron had stormed off. 

"Maybe… maybe if he writes to Bill it would help?" Hermione asked, worrying her lip, "He was prefect and Head Boy…"

"Yeah, but he wasn't a stuck up git," Fred said breezily, as the twins made their way past.

"Neither is Ron!" Hermione objected.

"What is your problem with him being a prefect, anyways?" Harry asked. Both of them were quick to follow the twins, who rolled their eyes.

"We can't have our little brother giving us detentions," George pointed out.

"And we've got business operations going on, last thing we need is him sticking his nose in," Fred added.

"He wouldn't be able to give you detentions if you'd just behave!" Hermione pointed out, annoyed.

"It's not like you can't be a prefect and get up to mischief - you know Remus was one," Harry added, tilting his head in confusion.

"Remus?" Fred laughed, "What mischief has he ever gotten up to? Not folding his socks?"

"He's the most straight-laced man we've ever met," George agreed, chuckling, "Probably would've been just like Percy."

"You think Percy would have made the Marauders Map?" Harry asked, perplexed, while Hermione just scowled.

Fred and George exchanged a series of looks before crossing their arms and facing Harry with a deadly serious look on their faces.

"You cannot mean to tell us-"

"That Remus John Lupin-"

"Who owns more cardigans than anyone has a right to-"

"Was involved in that map."

"He's Moony - Sirius is Padfoot. They call each other by their nicknames all the time, hell Sirius even calls me Prongslet, how did you not notice?" Harry asked.

"Prongslet?!" Fred gaped at him. 

"To be fair, Harry, Sirius always uses some variation like Moons or Moonbeam - and Remus usually sticks to Pads," Hermione added helpfully.

"She knew? And you didn't tell us!" George cried.

"Honestly I thought you'd figured it out," Harry said with a shrug.

George and Fred looked at each other despairingly, "We spent all summer with Messrs Moony and Padfoot and had no idea."

"An egregious missed opportunity, we'll certainly have to make up for it."

"So you'll lay off Ron, then?" Harry said, circling it back. 

"Fair enough, as long as you make sure we get a chance to chat with Moony and Padfoot without mum hanging around come Christmas," Fred said with a wink.

Hermione just rolled her eyes as they made their way into the common room.

—

Angelina Johnson, the new Quidditch Captain for the Gryffindor Team, was on Harry all weekend about making sure he didn't get more detention because he needed to make practice. As if he wouldn't rather be on his Firebolt than scrubbing out cauldrons by hand. 

Still, he ducked into an empty classroom after Potions to go through the meditation tape before DADA. While he was somewhat reluctant to admit it, it did help him calm down. Maybe it would help him hold his temper against Umbridge. Do what everyone kept telling him - keep his head down, don't make trouble. He sighed heavily as the tape reached the end, gathering himself up for another mind numbing lesson.

This time was Hermione’s fault, really. Everyone was begrudgingly reading in silence until Hermione stuck her hand up, again, and antagonized Umbridge. Again. Something that no one told her off for.

Then Umbridge started on about their past teachers and brought up how good Professor Quirrell was and the words were just out of his mouth - "Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head."

Another week's detentions. Hermione shot him an exasperated look, which he returned. 

Harry pressed his lips together as he went back to staring at the book they were supposed to be reading. He hadn't even gotten particularly angry, really, it was just so bloody hard to hold his tongue against such tripe.

—

McGonagall had him come to her office for detention that evening, looking considerably ticked off. She took five points from Gryffindor for this, chiding him for losing his temper again. It probably wasn't worth pointing out he hadn't gotten angry, so he didn't. 

"Now, our new High Inquisitor," her nostrils flared as she said the word, "has been able to make it so she is able to dictate what your punishment is even if she is not able to supervise. As it is not aligned with Mr Filch's job, you shall be doing it in my office. You shall be doing the same thing as you did with Professor Umbridge last week."

"Yes, professor," he said quietly.

"You will be writing lines," McGonagall said, laying the parchment in front of him. Her mouth pressed into a tight line for a long moment before she specified, "You will be writing 'I must not tell lies' for the next two hours."

"And the quill?" he asked flatly.

"Really, Potter, I expect a fifth year to have quill and ink in their bag," she said with a pointed glance at his bag.

"You said it would be the same as Umbridge's detention. So I have to use her quill," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her. 

Professor McGonagall went very still for a moment, her eyebrows raising and then narrowing almost imperceptibly. With a very measured voice she asked, "What kind of quill did she have you use?"

"I don't know what it's called. It doesn't use ink and carved the words into the back of my hand as I wrote," he replied, meeting her gaze evenly, "She kept me from 5 until past midnight."

"I see," she replied quietly, her face slightly pale, "I shall assume, because they are not in Azkaban, that you did not tell either your guardian or godfather about this," he shook his head and she sighed, "Why did you not tell me?"

"Well, I didn't have to do it again - did I?" Harry asked with a lopsided smile, then he grimaced, "There's enough trouble going on. Besides - my last four DADA professors? Two tried to kill me, one tried to obliviate me, and one turned into a wolf and nearly attacked me - this isn't exactly unusual."

Professor McGonagall let out a small snort at that, shaking her head, "Perhaps Hogwarts does need to be reevaluated - by someone competent for the job, that is!" She stood up, walking over to a cupboard and digging around in it before returning with a red quill in hand.

"Alright, Potter, I'm going to trust that you understand the need for discretion in what I am about to do," she said sternly, placing a jar of ink on the table and handing him the quill, "You are to write the lines three times. I will then charm this self writing quill to copy your handwriting and continue the lines."

Harry nodded, quickly taking the quill and writing the lines out as she requested. He then handed it back and with a wave of the professor's wand it began dancing across the page.

"You will spend the next two hours writing an essay on the cost of antagonizing Dolores Umbridge - to yourself, your house, your quidditch team, your friends, and your guardians," McGonagall said firmly, "For the rest of the week you will use this time on your studies - I sincerely hope this is the last of it."

"Thank you, Professor," he said, feeling genuine relief and gratitude. He dug parchment and a quill out of his bag and got started on the essay. 

—

It was late Friday evening, Harry and Sirius were both sweating from the exertion of the defense lesson and all three of them had a bottle of butterbeer in hand. The week had gone better. While Angelina was furious with him for missing practice, McGonagall allowing him to use detention for study meant he was nearly caught up with his homework. He still got stares and remarks, but people were overall losing interest and going about their days.

The defense lesson had been good, too, and made Harry yearn for the days when he had a competent DADA professor. Something he frequently vocalized and which never failed to make Remus’s cheeks go pink as he tried to hide a small smile and brush it off with some nonsense about Dumbledore knowing best for the school. After these deflections, Harry and Sirius would simply share a smirk before continuing on. 

"How are things at school? Is Umbridge at least leaving you alone now?" Remus asked after the conversation fell into a natural lull.

Harry grimaced, taking a long drink, "I don't know what to do - I thought I was keeping my temper better, but then she said some nonsense about Quirrell and it's like the words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them."

"Ah, so you're James's son," Remus said with a wise nod while Sirius chortled slightly. Harry just frowned at them.

"Prongs never had the best filter between his brain and mouth," Sirius explained with a fond grin, "Tended to voice his opinion even when it got him in trouble," he held up his bottle in a small toast, "Especially when he felt something was unjust.  Laid into our DADA professor over the lesson on werewolves."

"It was quite sweet… although I believe it tipped a few people off to my secret," Remus agreed with a chuckle. 

"Yeah, I think that's when Lily figured it out - and Snape came close," Sirius agreed, wrinkling his nose.

"Then I really need to get better at stopping it," Harry said with a sigh, "I don't want anyone getting put in danger just because I snapped at the wrong person."

"I am the wrong person to give advice about this," Sirius said with a soft laugh.

"Mm, fortunately it isn't your main temperament, Harry, I've never seen that kind of behavior from you personally. Hardly surprising that Umbridge might bring it out," Remus said, tapping his bottle thoughtfully, "With Umbridge - you can work on bracing yourself for it. You know being around her can set you off. Practice the techniques to guard your mind. They help mind your tongue as well."

Harry had watched him while he spoke, taking in what he was saying. He frowned slightly, mulling it over in his head. It was a lot like trying to hold it together with Aunt Marge. That hadn't been successful, but he'd been younger and stuck with both her and the Dursleys. This time, there were also things considerably more important than Hogsmeade visits on the line.

"Also, for class, keep an eye on the clock - counting down the minutes can help get you through it," Sirius added with a wink.

"Oh, that's true, something else to focus on," Remus agreed cheerfully, and the two men tapped their bottles together.

"If this advice works then maybe I'll finally be able to go a week without detention," Harry said, trying to smile but not quite managing it. He tilted his bottle back to finish his drink, aware that curfew was coming up and he'd need to leave soon.

—

For the second week in a row, Harry ran into Hermione and Ron on the way back from his defense lesson. This time Ron grinned when he saw him, asked if he was using the map to make sure he ran into them. Harry just grinned back, confirming nothing.

Hermione however, gave him an odd sort of smile before nervously looking around and shooing them both over to an alcove.

"Harry. Ron and I-" she began, and Ron cleared his throat aggressively, "Oh, very well! I had a thought about the situation with DADA. We need a competent teacher, which is not Umbridge, and we need to start learning it - both for our OWLs and also to help us against… V-voldemort." With the final word she stuttered and went pink, biting her lip while Ron made a noise at the name.

"Erm… Yeah, yeah of course," Harry agreed, running a hand through his hair, a touch of guilt squirming in his gut, "Remus can't, though."

"No, he's too busy with the Order," Hermione agreed and Harry bit his cheek, "But, Harry, you have done so much-"

"I really haven't," he insisted, "I've accidentally stumbled into bad situations and barely got out alive, mostly through luck."

"But you did get out alive," Ron pointed out with a smirk, "Plus you can do things like the patronus - you've always been good in Defense."

The argument went on, Harry getting increasingly irritated because it felt like his friends didn't appreciate what he'd gone through. It wasn't impressive, it was horrible. Almost every time he had only escaped by something incredibly unlikely happening. 

If Quirrell had been able to touch him, Harry would be dead right now. If Fawkes hadn't come into the Chamber of Secrets, Harry would be dead right now. If Remus hadn't been there the year they had dementors, if no one had taught him the patronus, he would be a soulless husk. If his wand didn't share a core with Voldemort's, he would be dead right now.

He couldn't teach that, and he wasn't happy with anyone thinking it was impressive that he would have died five times over by now if not for sheer, dumb luck.

By the end of the conversation he was gripping the strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles were white and his friends finally seemed to realize they may have pushed too far.

"Just - think about it? Please?" Hermione said softly while Ron scuffed his foot into the floor and looked down, his ears pink.

"I- yeah, okay. I'll think about it, if you promise to drop it for now," he grumbled.

Chapter Text

The week after the Hogwarts term started, Remus finally took Tonks up on the offer to have dinner at the Tonks's residence. After confirming it with Ted and Andromeda, of course. He went over first and, after confirming it was safe, Sirius came along as well. 

Sirius was overjoyed to see his cousin after so long. She had been a bright spot in his childhood and had helped give him the courage to finally leave when he did. They quickly fell into catching up, leaving Remus and Ted to potter in the kitchen.

"I hear you've gotten yourself a teenager," Ted mused, offering Remus a glass of wine.

"It would seem so, yes," he said with a soft chuckle, "I'm not sure when it's going to feel completely real, though."

"From what I've heard, that's not a surprise. Give yourself time," Ted mused, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "It wasn't long ago Tonks was that age, tough time even without a looming war. Those hormones are terrible. If you need advice, or just to vent, we're here."

Remus smiled at him, "I think I'll take you up on that," then he paused, "Do you mind if I ask why you two haven't joined the Order?"

Ted snorted and shook his head, "Never agreed with Dumbledore. We help where we can, focusing more on networking with other muggle borns and wix who live around muggles to set up protections without violating that blasted Statute of Secrecy," he fixed Remus with a look and raised an eyebrow, "This isn't going to be a recruiting effort?"

"God, no," he replied with a laugh, feeling relieved, "I was mostly curious because your daughter joined," something flashed in Ted's eyes when he said that, "I'm glad to hear there are efforts outside Dumbledore. That sounds dreadfully useful as well, I've been doing that with the wolf packs as well - not that he knows that."

"Wolf packs?" Ted asked, tilting his head to the side.

Remus's eyes widened and for a brief moment his instinct was to retreat, grab Sirius and go home, but he steadied his breathing and cleared his throat uncertainly, "Er, sorry. I'm used to everyone around me knowing - I'm a werewolf. Dumbledore sends me to the wolf packs and this time around I'm taking… liberties when he sends me on missions."

Ted stared at him for a moment. It felt like it was an eternity, although it was likely just seconds. Remus's senses were on high alert. Then Ted started laughing - loud, body shaking laughter. He clapped Remus on the back again, "Oh, Walburga is absolutely spinning in her grave!" he said, grinning broadly.

Remus just nodded mutely as the adrenaline started draining out of his body. He took a long sip of wine. 

"I can't tell you how much it meant to Dromeda to find out Sirius was innocent - she'd had such hopes for him when he got out of that house, and just couldn't understand how he could have betrayed Lily and James like that," Ted said with a long sigh, shaking his head.

They set the table and Remus went into the sitting room to call the cousins in. Andromeda and Sirius were sat together on the couch, looking over a photo book. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, watching them, it was clear both had been crying and they were also laughing, going over Tonks’s exploits and some of the things that Sirius had missed. It was bittersweet.

Eventually he knocked on the door frame and gave them both a sheepish smile, letting them know that dinner was ready.

Andromeda passed him with a warm smile, then Sirius came over and leaned on him. "Harry should have been able to grow up with Tonks - she was so young and I barely saw her because of the war…"

"I know," Remus said gently, "There's been so much lost time for all of us."

They stood together, reflecting on the ghosts, for just a few seconds before going over and taking their places at the table. 

Andromeda was delightful. She had embraced far more of her upbringing than Sirius had, maintaining the poise and grace of a highbred woman. She carried the air of someone not to be trifled with, as well as the warmth of a doting wife and mother. After all their years together, Ted was still entirely smitten with her and it reminded Remus of the way that James had looked at Lily so much his chest ached.

The conversation was carefully managed by their hostess. She did not allow it to go into the wars, the Order, or Sirius’s time in Azkaban. This was never explicitly stated, rather she deftly maneuvered the topics to keep them light hearted. It was fascinating to watch and became one of the most enjoyable social experiences he had been to in a very, very long time.

—

"Cousin." Andromeda's voice was quiet, her hand on his arm soft, but he caught the edge in it as well and tried to avoid her eyes. It had overall been a lovely evening, they'd both cried but it had been wonderful seeing the photos of his little cousin growing. Sirius didn't want to leave on a bitter note.

"Can this wait?" he asked with a sigh, finally bringing himself to meet her gaze. 

She smiled at him, kindly, and raised an eyebrow. He scowled at her then nodded.

"You've looked into the options to clear your name?" 

"Yes, but the current climate," he waved his hand. 

"Good. That climate will change soon. We both know he cannot stay under the radar for too long, and the Ministry will be disgraced," Andromeda said firmly.

Sirius sucked in a breath, not prepared for his cousin's certainty. He had forgotten just how much Andromeda was still a Black. Most of the time, she was very much Andromeda Tonks - no nonsense, but kind and prone to easy laughter and warm smiles. It had been a very long time since Sirius had seen her step into her role as Andromeda Black - formidable and calculating.

For the first time since he had been sentenced without a trial, he truly believed that there was a future where his name was cleared. And soon.

"When that day comes, cousin," she gave him a pointed look, "You will become the head of the Black Family."

"Here I thought mother dearest prevented that by blasting my name off the tapestry," he scoffed, glowering at her and crossing his arms. Despite having a good few inches of height on her, he still felt like a petulant child under her gaze.

Andromeda gave his arm a squeeze and smiled softly, "I understand," she chuckled then, warm and joyful, "If anyone understands, it's me!" her gaze hardened again, "The best way you can protect your family is to step into your role and reclaim that power for good - you know the weight that name holds."

Sirius stared at her for a long moment, searching her eyes. He felt the weight that he had been born under, nearly crushed under, and spent so long trying to escape. It was a lot to ask, to believe that after centuries of 'Black' being a name of cruelty it could be used to protect those he loved.

"You don't have to decide anything now. I can help you, once you're free, to establish a name that will help you to keep them safe," she said firmly before pulling him into a hug.

Sirius laughed softly, hugging her back, "This isn't how Black family talks end, Andy."

"It's about time the family got some new traditions," she said with a smirk.

—

After the first war ended, Remus had stopped subscribing to the Daily Prophet. This meant that at the beginning of their summer together, there was no daily newspaper first thing in the morning. Remus would usually end up getting it eventually, at least once every few days, or turn the radio on - but the mornings were always calm and pleasant.

Sirius was musing over how lovely those days had been. Unfortunately, they had renewed their subscription, Remus insisting they needed to keep tabs on things. Now, Sirius was sipping his coffee at the kitchen table and watching the werewolf pace the length of the small living room. The news had come out today that Umbridge had been made 'High Inquisitor' of Hogwarts. This announcement just had to come with a small jab about Dumbledore’s previous hiring practices - including 'werewolf Remus Lupin'.

To compound things, Remus had been given a mission he needed to leave for that evening. Two weeks long and something he actually believed would be beneficial. As usual, he wouldn't tell Sirius more than that, but the animagus was doing better at making peace with this. 

Sirius couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore had tried to time it so Remus left before the article went out. That might have been wishful thinking, though.

Whatever the enigmatic old man's thought process, Sirius was now watching his boyfriend go through quite the spiral. Chewing at his thumb, fretting that he'd pushed too far with teaching Harry each week, growling that Harry needed more than that, worrying that Umbridge would now somehow do something worse to Harry than endless detentions, snarling about how anyone could be allowing this to happen, agonizing over whether it would harm Harry for it to get out he had a werewolf for a guardian, all punctuated by the occasional demand for reassurance that Sirius wouldn't do anything daft or dangerous while he was gone.

Sirius had tried to stop it before it reached this point, attempted to derail and soothe, but he seemed to need this time to process everything that was going on. As long as he didn't try to actually do anything, it seemed harmless enough to let him pace for a bit. Which was why Sirius was now settled down with a cup of coffee, reminiscing over gentle mornings.

Occasionally he wondered how he'd know when to step in. This was more Remus’s specialty, the man seemed to have a sixth sense for handling mental distress. Then the man let out a howl of rage and ah, there it was.

He placed the coffee down and walked over, calmly pulling him into a hug and just holding him close while Remus finished the last of his venting, gradually trailing off until he wrapped his fingers into the back of Sirius's shirt.

"This shouldn't be so damned hard," Remus finally said, somewhere between a growl and a whine, "Hogwarts wasn't like this for us - when did it stop being safe?"

Sirius sucked in a breath and shook his head, remembering their own 7 years. Every year a new DADA teacher, sure, but they were all pretty decent at the job. Students were never in danger. And that was during the war - it had properly started in earnest right before their first year started. "No idea, Moonlight, it wasn't like this for us. Or for Molly and Arthur - hell it wasn't even like this for Tonks, and she graduated right before Harry started."

Somehow, that was what he had needed to hear as he seemed to deflate and lean more deeply into Sirius. He took a long, deep breath before nodding, "Okay. Okay- everything is in order. You and Harry will be fine. The article doesn't matter. It's not a dangerous mission, it really isn't that long."

"There you are, welcome back," Sirius said with a small huff of a laugh, "We've survived worse."

Remus glowered at the newspaper, "Given what the ministry is pulling - I'm not so sure you're right about that."

—

For the first time in his fifth year, Harry got through a week without detention. Hermione continued raising her hand and pestering Umbridge. When she did, everyone looked over to Harry, who simply stared ahead and, in his head, practiced the wand movements Remus had shown him last Friday or went over techniques for catching the snitch. 

Umbridge was visibly irritated by this. Her wide, frog like smile stretched across her face while her left eye twitched at Harry’s silence. At one point, Umbridge made a rule that students were not to look at the clock during her lessons when she realized he was using it to distract himself. By Friday she even outright asked, "Nothing to say, Mr Potter?"

"No, Professor Umbridge," he replied blandly. 

"Hm, it seems the punishment has really sunk in," she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

If he clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails dug into his palm, well, that wasn't really anyone's business.

Ron had made the quidditch team and unfortunately needed all the help he could get, so it was good that Harry was finally making quidditch practice. McGonagall had even given him back the five points she had taken last week. Hermione had dropped the question of Harry teaching them defense, though still asked him questions on the readings and essays Umbridge had them do. Umbridge's class was becoming very similar to how Harry got through Trelawney's divination - blagging what the teacher wanted to hear. This was something that Hermione struggled deeply with.

The one biggest downside of the week had been Umbridge's inspections during their classes. While it had been enjoyable to watch McGonagall put the toad in her place, and to watch Umbridge irritate Snape - it also meant Harry had had to see her far more this week. It was also a painful reminder of how much power Umbridge was being given over the school. 

On top of everything, Remus was off on Order business which meant no extra lesson that Friday. It wasn’t safe for Sirius to make the trip alone, just in case. He stayed in the Great Hall until the very end of dinner, after Ron and Hermione had to leave for their prefect rounds. This was the first time he’d be spending his Friday evening alone.

About ten minutes before dinner ended, a Hufflepuff boy sat down next to him. It wasn’t someone he knew, likely a 7th year, with spikey brown hair and his tie undone around his neck. Harry just looked at him in confusion.

“Wotcher, Harry,” the boy said with a wink, his eyes changing from brown to bright pink. Harry gawped, but the boy just grabbed a roll and custard tart, “Blimey the protections on this castle are terrible. All sorts can just walk in,” he chuckled before raising an eyebrow at Harry, “You’re late for your lesson.”

“Tonks?!" he hissed, glancing around nervously even though the hall was very nearly empty, “What are you doing here?”

“Toldja - You’re late for your defense lesson,” Tonks replied, standing up and tugging gently on his arm to do the same.

“But - Remus…?” Harry said weakly, following after Tonks who had begun striding out of the Great Hall, nicking a croissant as he went.

“Explain when we get there, cousin said you’ve got an invisibility cloak?” 

“I- yeh, right here,” Harry said awkwardly, nodding over to a private alcove where he could pull it over the both of them. Once the cloak was on, Tonks put a finger to his lips and winked before they started making their way to the tree.

“It’s amazing that the willow was planted for Lupin,” Tonks whispered as they made their way across the grounds, looking around eagerly, “Hard to imagine the place without it!”

Harry made a strange noise that he hoped sounded like agreement, still quite reeling over what was currently happening. As they approached the tree, the large orange cat that was stretched out in the sun twitched its ears and stretched lazily before darting off to freeze the tree for them.

“Oh, wow!” Tonks said, barely keeping his voice hushed, “I had a cat in school but she never did anything like that!”

“That’s Hermione’s cat,” Harry muttered with a smirk.

“Ah, yeah, that tracks,” Tonks chuckled before they rushed over to make their way into the tunnel before the tree began moving again.

When they had gotten into the Shack, Tonks’s hair was again bubblegum pink but otherwise no changes had been made. Sirius was there, grinning at him, “You weren’t answering the mirror.”

“Sorry, it’s in my trunk,” Harry admitted sheepishly, hugging his godfather, “Thought you couldn’t do this without Remus.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Tonks said with a grin, “Good thing I still had the uniform - thought I might have to grab you, since we made the plan last minute."

“That really shouldn’t have worked, can’t believe Dumbledore gets on us for our protections,” Sirius said with a loud laugh.

"Erm, can I ask?" Harry said to Tonks.

"Bout the boy mode? Not my usual, I know, useful disguise,” Tonks said with a grin.

“Oh,” he said, his cheeks heating slightly, “I just thought - Remus got me some books - erm I just wondered if it was an identity thing or-” he trailed off awkwardly.

Tonks frowned slightly, “Can I borrow those books?”

—

The next Friday, Harry rushed to the willow. Hanging out with Tonks was always fun, and he had the books they’d asked for on hand as well. The ‘lesson’, it hardly seemed fair to call it that, had been full of raucous laughter and stories of Tonks’s mishaps during auror training. 

He made his way through the tunnel, and was startled to be greeted not with a cheerful ‘Wotcher’ but a gravelly, “Alright, then, Harry?”

Alastor Moody was sat on the couch, leaning forwards against his walking stick, while Sirius and Harry greeted each other as usual. He managed not to blurt out that he’d expected Tonks - that seemed rude - but struggled slightly to stay calm. Intellectually, he knew that his fourth year had been taught by a death eater in disguise. At the same time, Moody still had a very aggressive attitude and Harry found himself beyond intimidated. 

“Professor Moody,” he greeted with a nod. Sirius had a hand on his shoulder, apparently noticing how nervous he was.

“Never had a chance to be much of a professor,” he muttered bitterly, then gave a harsh laugh, “S’pose it’s accurate enough for today.”

Harry bit his lip, “Er, is it alright, can I ask you - just… I don’t know how much of what Crouch did…” 

The man grimaced and nodded heavily, “Go ‘ead, ask if I’d’ve done whatever it is you’re worrying on.” 

“Would you have trained us to resist the Imperius curse by using it on us?” he asked quietly, looking at his feet.

“Not at your age, Potter, Might have offered it to some who’d come of age and were looking to become aurors - part of auror training. Done it with Tonks,” Moody replied gravely.

“Okay, good,” he mumbled, looking up at him with a nervous smile, “Everyone speaks really highly of you - thank you for coming to teach me today.”

Moody gave him a grin in return, and Sirius squeezed his shoulder once. Then they got to work.

That training was one of the most intense experiences of Harry’s life. Considering what Harry’s life had entailed, that was saying a lot. By the end of it, both Harry and Sirius were drenched in sweat, panting, and barely able to still hold up their wands. Alastor had spent nearly the entire time on his feet, dueling them both, and had barely ended up short of breath. For the first time, Harry truly appreciated what a skilled auror the man was.

“Lupin’s taking it easy on you, Black,” Moody growled, conjuring drinks for them all before settling himself back on the couch, “I remember when you could fight for hours and come out of it still laughing.”

“We don’t have a healer, makes him nervous for dueling,” Sirius panted, wiping the sweat off his brow, “He’s still cautious with me.”

“Hrmf, thought he’d know better. As if the Death Eaters would go easy on you,” Alastor muttered, shaking his head, “Then, s’pose your magic is still recovering. I’ll get on him. He can’t rely on keeping you hidden.”

Sirius shrugged, not meeting Harry’s eyes when the boy looked over at him. 

“You alright, then, Potter? Wouldn’t normally push a kid that hard - but you aren’t a normal kid.”

Harry nodded, still catching his breath, “I’m fine - that was hard as hell, though, I’ve had an easier time fighting Voldemort.”

Moody laughed, a sharp sound that pierced the space, then grinned broadly at the boy, “You’ve got a good spirit. You’ve trained well, too. Can’t have too much training when he’s targetin’ you, but you fared better than I expected.” 

He offered a hand to Harry, who shook it with as much strength as he could muster.

—

Hermione left the idea of Harry teaching them defense for nearly three weeks since the first time she brought it up.

In that time, Harry had managed to avoid detention again and was able to focus more of his time on helping Ron with his quidditch practice. The twins had laid off on their teasing and jabs and were helping more as well, taking turns with the beater bat while one of the twins and Harry tried to score goals against Ron. He was improving, at least a bit, although when he wasn’t around the entire team begged Harry to focus on his own skills because they’d likely need the snitch to win - and quickly.

Which was part of the reason he was so irritated by Hermione continuing to bring up the need to study defense and specifically the need for Harry to be the one to lead them. 

“It’s just you and Ron, right?” Harry asked, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

“Well,” Hermione started nervously, “I really think you should teach anyone who wants to learn, since we’re talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort.”

Harry grimaced and looked over at Ron who just shrugged. “I thought it was a good idea from the start, mate,” his friend said with a sheepish grin.

“Y’know what - fine - I know what’ll settle this,” Harry snapped, exasperated, ducking into a corner of the hallway and yanking the mirror out of his pocket, “Remus!”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance before both peering over his shoulder as the mirror changed, revealing the man’s face.

“Harry - oh, with Ron and Hermione, I trust you’re all well?” he said, looking mildly surprised and just a touch concerned.

“Yeh, we’re great - is Si -er- Snuffles with you?” Ron asked, watching with fascination.

“Well-” he began before turning his attention off screen, “No  you heard how he asked - it’s not safe, you daft thing…”

The three giggled quietly as Remus simply turned back to face them with a wry smile, the question had been quite answered.

“I’m trying to convince Harry to teach us defense,” Hermione explained, biting her lip, “Because we aren’t learning anything in class.”

“And, among other things, your OWLs are coming up this year,” Remus said, nodding sagely.

Hermione grinned, “Exactly!”

“But I don’t know that much,” Harry snapped at her, “Most of what I’ve done has just been luck.”

Hermione just frowned at him, looking expectantly at the mirror.

“Harry - is that really what you believe?” Remus asked gently. Harry looked back at him and just nodded defiantly. For a moment the man was silent, “I’ve been teaching you advanced defense since you were 13. Most NEWT level students who graduate Hogwarts can’t manage a corporeal patronus - while an element of luck can exist in every battle, the reality is you are capable of advanced defensive magic your classmates are not - and I include seventh years in that statement."

To their credit, both Ron and Hermione bit back 'I told you so's.

"Oh," Harry said in a small voice, biting his cheek and not sure how to feel about it, "So you think it's a good idea? They want me to offer to teach anyone who's interested in learning."

"That's a study group, Haz," Remus pointed out kindly, "Yes, I think it makes perfect sense for you to head a study group in a subject you're doing well in. It will help your own skills, too."

"When you put it like that it seems innocent," Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

Remus chuckled, "I'm quite certain that Umbridge won't think so, but I suspect you knew that."

"Yes, I was planning to have everyone meet up in Hogsmeade to discuss it," Hermione agreed. 

"Excellent, do you need anything else right now?" The trio shook their heads. "Good, I'll let you go, then. Please do call for us when you're somewhere safe, this one is about to bite his knuckle off he's so desperate to put his two cents in," Remus said, nodding towards off screen. 

Once again the mirror returned to being a plain, reflective surface and Hermione and Ron both stepped aside and looked at him eagerly.

Harry gave them a small smile, still feeling quite overwhelmed by the praise he'd just received, "Alright then. I guess we're doing this."

—

The meeting in Hogsmeade went far better than Harry had feared. While some people had clearly been there just to hear Harry’s retelling of the graveyard, something he refused to share, they were predominately interested in learning defense. It was the first time that year that he actually believed people were on his side, aside from his friends. 

Having people listen to him and want him to teach them - it was still overwhelming. He felt like a terrible fraud, despite all the reassurance he’d received. Part of him was worried that the first lesson would be a disaster, everyone would realize he didn’t know what he was doing, and they’d all either storm out or make the smart move and beg Hermione to teach them instead. 

Fortunately, he had time to get used to the idea. They had to figure out a good place for it. Remus and Sirius didn’t have any good suggestions - a few of the spaces that may have worked had been destroyed since they’d graduated.

It was Neville who ended up with the solution - stumbling on a room that only appeared when a person was in need of it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione went with him to check it and were amazed by the space that appeared - a massive chamber with more than enough space for everyone interested to practice. It even had a bookshelf full of volumes with defensive magic. Many of them Harry recognized - either from ones Remus had bought him (his trunk had been rather filled with defense books) or the man’s bookshelf - but there were also many unfamiliar ones. 

It seemed to have absolutely everything they needed to practice defensive magic.

They got the word out for the first lesson, and Hermione had come up with a rather ingenious way to communicate the dates to meet - using numbers on the side of fake galleons to represent a date and time. This allowed them to work around the multiple houses' quidditch schedules and also make it harder for Umbridge to track. 

Everything was coming together. It was exciting. Quidditch had been something to look forward to, of course, but the looming OWLs and everything else going on had put a massive damper. 

Remus had been surprisingly aloof about it, insisting that having the experience of planning things out himself was more important. Well, he was aiming for surprisingly aloof - but the way his leg jiggled and fingers tapped whenever the subject came up made it obvious that a part of him wanted to offer considerably more.

Initially, Harry had expected to basically be a stand-in for Remus - ask Remus what to teach and how then carry it out only because the werewolf couldn't do it himself. The first time Remus had calmly side stepped this assumption and instead insisted Harry already had everything he needed to do the job, Harry had panicked. 

After he’d settled into the idea, he appreciated it. He wasn’t being left to fend for himself - Remus was still assisting him with defense itself after all - but being given a vote of confidence. It felt like they’d actually be able to do it, he’d actually be able to do it.

—

The group finally had a name, courtesy of the suggestion of one Ginny Weasley - Dumbledore's Army, the DA for short. It was going to be the far subtler 'Defense Association', but seeing as Umbridge had banned all clubs and study groups under an educational decree, nearly refusing to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch Team to continue practicing - the students were feeling a bit rebellious. It felt good to be thumbing their nose at the paranoia of the government and the teacher who treated them like 5 year olds.

The first DA lesson was nerve-wracking. He knew he was going to be asking for a bit of trust, asking them to practice a simple disarming charm. Harry also could not deny the value that it had had for him, though, and it was also an easy win to get everyone - himself included - used to the experience. 

There was grumbling, as he expected, but once he explained that he had actually used the spell to help escape Voldemort, the participants were considerably more willing to give it a go. His own experiences seemed to bring on more motivation than he had expected. He still wasn't sure how much he wanted to share, and he certainly didn't want to come off like Lockhart in bragging about his accomplishments, but somehow it felt good to know that sharing what he had faced could help the other students want to learn to defend themselves. Maybe even feel like they actually had the power to do so.

Chapter Text

The two weeks without Remus were not nearly as terrible as Sirius had feared. He visited his cousin a fair few times, and thanks to Tonks and Mad-Eye he was able to see Harry for defense lessons each week without breaking his promise not to go on his own. He even had dinner at the Burrow, finding it easier to get along with Molly now that they were no longer trying to share living space and she felt secure in her own home. He had parent friends, now, it was quite surreal.

It had been 14 years since he had a social life, he was quite relieved to have one again.

Still, it wasn't easy. The nights were lonely and uneasy. The sheer lack of information irritated old wounds - the sense of doubt and betrayal and abandonment that had destroyed them during the first war. He knew better now, wouldn't allow those phantoms to destroy them again, but on his own they burned. 

Why was Remus hiding things from him? Were the missions so dangerous Remus knew Sirius would either stop him or demand to go with him - and if so how the hell could he take that risk when Harry was relying on him? Were they so immoral that Remus honestly thought it could change the way he, Sirius Freaking Black, looked at him? 

Did he just not trust him? 

It was easier to bury these thoughts when they were together. They were still cobbling together their new life, raising Harry, and navigating the incoming war. Plenty of distractions.

Remus came back a few days early, there when Sirius got back from training Harry. He greeted Sirius to a wry smile, just raising an eyebrow while sipping tea and waiting for the explanation. 

“I figured there’s no reason for Harry to miss out on training - so I got Tonks to help out last week and Moody this week,” Sirius replied easily, flushing slightly and kissing him, “You’re early.”

“One of the pack leaders wasn’t available, so I made arrangements to see her next week - should only be two or three days,” Remus explained with an apologetic look.

Sirius frowned and tilted his head, “Let me go with you.”

“To the wolf pack?” Remus asked, confused.

“Yeah. You’ve made arrangements to meet her - probably one of the more amiable ones, right? Or is that another thing you can’t do?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

Remus sighed heavily, rubbing his brow for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Only because it’s one of the most peaceful and settled packs. If anything goes wrong, you can just turn into Padfoot and they’ll probably love you.”

“Oh- so you keep everything about them secret from me, but they can know I’m an animagus?” he asked, crossing his arms and scowling.

“They’re werewolves, pet, they’ll likely be able to smell it on you,” Remus pointed out, shaking his head, “You never quite lose that canine smell - anyways it's two days you'll probably be fine."

"Two days transfigured," Sirius muttered, running a hand over his face, "Could be worse."

"Right. About that," Remus said somewhat uncomfortably, "The leader will know who you are - and glamor magic sets them on edge."

"You've told the leader about me?" 

"No - I worked with her to make a map using the same identification spells as the Marauders Map. She'll see your name on it."

"That feels like more of a betrayal," he muttered, "If it's so useful - why didn't you ever suggest it to the Order?"

Remus rolled his eyes, "I did. Frankly I begged you and James to share what you'd invented - lives could have been saved! But you two had your heads up your arses with your own cleverness and no one else wanted to listen to the half breed."

Sirius just scowled, irritated that he didn't have a better come back. Time before Azkaban was still foggy, but it did remind him of a few heated arguments both while they were creating the map and after graduation. It certainly would have saved a lot of grief if Dumbledore had been able to see 'Peter Pettigrew' in the boy's dormitory or 'Barty Crouch' in Moody's office, or possibly 'Voldemort' attached to Quirrell.

"So you trust them to know who I am? Why? They miraculously aren't interested in giant bounties?"

"First- Because I'll be there, Second- because, and Godric I wish the Order would get this through their skulls - to werewolves there is no difference between an auror and a Death Eater," Remus snapped, "They have families - children - and you are asking me why they won't bring undo attention on them from people who see them as dangerous monsters!"

Remus stalked over to the kitchen, and Sirius threw himself onto the couch, flicking his wand to turn the record player on. 

—

Truthfully, Sirius wasn't sure what visiting a pack would entail. It was something he had imagined for the better part of 20 years. Varying scenarios had come to mind. Ancient pagan ritual grounds. Tents made of furs. Dilapidated, abandoned mansions. He felt he had considered nearly every possibility.

A quaint village situated on an island in the Hebrides - he had not considered that. It was unnervingly not unlike Hogsmeade. Thatched roof houses, cobblestone paths, smoke curling from chimneys. The sea breeze brushed through their hair and nearly everywhere had a view of the ocean. 

Once they arrived by apparition, Sirius simply stared in disbelief. They had arrived towards the top of a hill, able to look over a good chunk of the village. Children ran and played, adults in thick boots and wool jackets walked around. There were quite a few dogs as well, none smaller than a German Shepherd.

Remus just laughed softly at Sirius’s expression and kissed his cheek, altered slightly by transfiguration, before looping their fingers together and gently tugging him to walk down. They received a few curious glances, several people nodded to Remus in recognition, most eyed Sirius warily. Given that they were on an island, newcomers were likely a rarity. 

The road led down to a circle that was likely the village center. A few shops, a restaurant, and a pub surrounded it as well as a somewhat grander building that was likely some sort of town hall.

An old woman with wild grey hair and sharp green eyes was standing on the steps, leaning on a cane that had various birds carved into the handle. Once she caught sight of them, her eyebrows shot up and she went over to them as quickly as she was able, smiling broadly.

"Ah ha, I did not think I would live to see this day!" she crowed joyfully, placing her hands on Sirius’s cheeks and pulling him down slightly to look at him, "Our wandering wolf has brought his mate!"

Remus coughed slightly, "This is Olivia Kerr, the pack leader."

"Hang on - that name has nothing to do with wolves, so you and Fenrir honestly just got insanely unlucky?" Sirius asked with a laugh.

Olivia patted his cheeks and let go of him with a wry smile, "Yes, lad, to this day I don't know if he at first went by 'John' with us to hide his identity - or to avoid the jokes!"

"It was the jokes, honestly," Remus replied mildly. 

The woman chortled appreciatively and shook her head. She eyed Sirius for a moment, "I imagine you've been warned about glamors here - set folk on edge. I'll assume you have your reason, but don't wander. You'll cause a fright."

"I think I'd cause more of a fright without it," Sirius pointed out bitterly, shooting a look at Remus, "He told me your map would tell you who I am."

Olivia shrugged, "Tells your name - rang a bell, I suppose you got into some trouble with the Ministry. I trust Remus here not to bring problems to our doorstep. Most of us do by now, known him for some 19 years."

"Oh," Sirius said quietly, frowning. The name was, potentially, less damning than his face so not worth the risk. It was still a strange reaction. 

"I'll need to speak with you privately, Olivia, as always," Remus reminded her with a sigh.

"Yes, yes, get that old goat's orders out of the way," she replied airily, shaking her head, "Your lad will be safe while we do."

"Really? You won't let me be there for it?" Sirius grumbled, "It doesn't seem like Olivia'd be bothered."

"I can't, Padfoot," Remus said, rubbing his forehead.

Olivia tapped her cane on the ground, looking out over the village and all the way to the sea. 

"Remus- I need you to check the wards around us. Didn't alarm properly when you two arrived, fortunately I was waiting," she said sharply, placing a firm hand on Sirius’s arm and giving him a crooked smile, "I'm sure your lad won't mind helping an old woman make a cuppa."

Remus looked grateful, which only caused Sirius to scowl all the more at him. As if it weren't clearly some sort of contrived plot, getting Sirius out of the way so he could do whatever it was he did with the damn packs. Because, after everything, Sirius apparently was not trustworthy.

"You're grinding your teeth, dearie," Olivia said easily as they walked through the doors of the town hall. The atrium was well lit. The left wall had corkboard covered with various community events and notices. The right wall had a door and a series of muggle photographs next to it - noting the various figures in the town and their roles. 

"Are most here muggle?" Sirius asked, curiosity overcoming his bitterness as he was led down a hallway.

She shook her head and sighed, "Be easier if we were, I sometimes think. Ministry keeps tight control over wands and magical knowledge. We face scrutiny from wixen as well. Safer to rely on muggle resources when we can."

"I… I thought that was just a Remus thing," Sirius said quietly.

The old woman simply hummed in response, ushering him into a rather plain looking break room and asking him to get the kettle on. A few minutes later and they were sat at the vinyl covered table with hot mugs of tea and a plate of shortbread biscuits in front of them. Manners were apparently something Sirius had lost in Azkaban as he was openly scowling at the confections. 

"Have a biscuit, dearie," Olivia said firmly, her eyes were closed and she was sitting back in her chair and breathing in the steam from the cup with a content smile. 

Sirius simply crossed his arms. Without opening an eye, she chuckled softly at this. It did not improve his mood.

"What the hell is he up to that he won't tell me about?" he growled, not bothering to keep his voice down. It wasn't like she wouldn't hear him just fine. Ruddy werewolves. 

"Your scent is somewhat familiar - you're part of his lost pack, aren't you?" Olivia asked quietly. She opened her eyes halfway to look at him and her voice was soothing, the earlier amusement gone.

Something about hearing it put that way - Remus’s lost pack - caused the hollow feeling that never fully left his chest to ache with fresh pain. He closed his eyes and practiced the breathing Remus had taught him, remembering wild full moon nights as cocky teenagers and the feeling of family and warmth at Lily and James’s wedding. 

"Is there anything he doesn't tell you?" he spat out. 

Olivia placed an arm on his shoulder, "He tells us precious little - my senses tell me most of it. You were the only reason I didn't try harder to keep him here when he first showed up. So young, had never had a proper pack, over a decade of transforming alone and restrained torn out of his skin."

Sirius closed his eyes and smiled sadly, "If you'd have tried to keep him, we would have tracked him down to take him home."

"Ah, we would have loved that," she said with a fond sigh, "A handful of children showing up to protect their wolf."

He felt himself blushing at the compliment, tried to hide the pleased smile by taking a sip of his tea. 

"For his sake, it was a good thing he was so young - young men tend to be the worst for causing trouble, but he was still a pup, just barely. A strange werewolf showing up in the packs, clearly never spent a day around civilized wolves in his life," she shook her head, taking another biscuit off of the plate and finishing it before she continued, "Deflecting and dodging questions."

Sirius grunted at that statement, finally relenting and taking one of the buttery biscuits.

"You lot were so young, I can imagine how difficult it was when he started behaving like that with you. War going on, friend disappearing only to come back with exhausted pleas of 'I can't'."

"Hrmf."

"Our pack has been settled and strong for generations. The war worried us, of course, but more for our loved ones who had gone to the mainland than our own safety. Made it easier to stay calm and curious about the boy," she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, "He was so relieved when we finally realized it was an Unbreakable Vow."

Sirius’s mouth went dry and the crumbs in his mouth turned to ash. His hands shook as he managed a large swig of tea that left him coughing and spluttering. A laugh bubbled out of his throat, loud and wild and broken. 

Olivia remained completely unphased. For the first time she took out a wand, tapping both of their cups to refill them, then sat in silence. It reminded him of Remus - the Remus now, not the twitchy teenager who he got into regular shouting matches when the moon was too full or Sirius was raw and angry from something his parents did. 

It broke something in him. That day, in the Shack, when he had met Remus - sad but stable, teaching at Hogwarts - he had imagined their allies had reached out to him. Helped him. Had always brushed off Remus’s allusions to isolation as the man catastrophizing.

It hadn't been the Order that had held him together, had it?

"That fucking bastard," Sirius snarled, still half laughing, "Selfish fucking bastard ruined us all for his sick games."

"To this day, I don't know if Dumbledore was trying to ensure we didn't join or if he's that delusional," she growled softly and Sirius saw the wolf in her. Aged and wise, prepared to protect her pack and not taking kindly to those that might harm it.

"When did you meet him?" he asked rather abruptly, not sure he was prepared for the answer. Calling him pup and child - well, it wasn't impossible he'd just graduated but something about it stuck in him.

"Sometime in July of 76."

They really hadn't had a chance. Months after the blasted prank on Snape. Sirius vulnerable and broken after running to the Potters. Remus silent, Sirius feeling both guilty and abandoned, James uncertain and Pettigrew - hand wringing with conspiracy theories. Returning to school at the start of 6th year, Remus worn and tight lipped and they just buried it all to fester.

They had trusted Dumbledore, well Sirius and James had, would have followed him to their deaths. Of course they never grew suspicious of him. It wasn't until the barmy old wizard had let 14 year old Harry compete in the Triwizard Tournament that Sirius first had doubts.

"I was never supposed to meet him," Olivia murmured, breaking him out of his memories, "Our pack had stayed too firmly under the radar for him to be sent here by any wixen. Greyback hasn't even graced these shores," she said with a smug, toothy grin. Sirius looked over at her curiously, cocking his head to the side, "That old goat was, of course, sending him off to the young packs - groups of teenagers and young adults who fancy themselves independent and no longer needing elders. Most likely to be swayed to the dark side."

"Most likely to take unkindly to an awkward teenager trying to convince them to join Dumbledore’s army," she grimaced and shook her head, "There's always a few wolves who check on those young packs - some of the less violent members had gotten cold feet after seeing what their friends did, got an adult who brought him to me for healing."

"Does Dumbledore actually send him here? Does he know now?" Sirius asked quietly, not in any mood to think about the details she was avoiding.

Olivia nodded, "I can't blame him, of course. Not after what he was put through at that school," her nostrils flared, "The git showed up here himself once - tried convincing us to let some of our young in. Hasn't tried it again."

"What he was put through at school?" Sirius winced slightly. It had been soon after the prank - surely Sirius’s screw up hadn't been so bad to convince an entire culture to shun Hogwarts.

"Wolves are pack animals," she said gently, "Werewolves as well. Locking him in that," she frowned, "shack… whatever it was called. Not having him interact with others like him. Having to keep who he was a secret, live in fear of being discovered. It wasn't just the schooling, his father's to blame for plenty, but what he went through confirmed our worst fears about what "integrating into wix society" would look like."

When it was put like that, it did sound truly terrible. The privilege of attending Hogwarts had been worth it, they'd all agreed. All the texts treated werewolves even worse. 

"Is everyone on the island a werewolf?"

"No," Olivia said with a pleased, surprised smile, "We have a few Non-werewolf mates. A few children as well, most will end up moving to the mainland for schooling - although there's a non-werewold elder who was born here and has stayed his whole life."

"Do you use wolfsbane for fulls?" he asked thoughtfully, and was unsettled when she made a look of distaste.

"I know, it's a wonderful advancement that makes wix just a little less scared of us," she said impatiently, "It's good for city wolves and lone wolves - I've helped advocate for making it more accessible to them - but out here… goodness it saps the energy from your bones."

That was true. While full moons had never been easy, the potion seemed to knock Remus out well before the moon used to rattle his bones. There had to be a way to make it less fatiguing. 

Two more taps of the wand, the cups refilled and reemptied, the biscuits finally properly appreciated. Then a pleasant stroll to find Remus, who had honestly just been checking the wards so Olivia could speak with Sirius. They found him chatting with a farmer and watching a field of sheep. Which raised many questions about how they handled full moons - although the large guardian dogs were likely part of it. There were at least 5 that were as large as Padfoot strolling calmly through the flock.

Dogs that big weren't found in cities, and for a moment Sirius felt a ridiculous desire to bound over to them as Padfoot. 

Maybe they should get a dog like that - would they do well in the woods? 

Finally he met Remus's eyes. The man was chewing at his cheek, Sirius could tell, looking nervous and apologetic and hopeful. Sirius walked over and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him from behind and watching the sheep. 

"I'm an idiot," Sirius muttered. 

"We all were," Remus said wistfully. 

"Can we come here for the full someday?" he asked it softly, and Remus stiffened in his arms. He could just make out the corner's of the man's mouth pressing into a terse line. 

Finally he nodded, sighing heavily, "We'll talk about it."

"He's had an open invitation since '76," Olivia called over, smirking slightly. 

—

There weren't many werewolf packs on the British Isles, compared to many other places. Wolves, proper animal wolves, went extinct around the 18th century. After that, full moons became more dangerous. A stray hiker hearing howls could bring scrutiny and werewolf hunters. 

On the continent, werewolves could stick to areas that you expected to hear or see wolves. Many would integrate with wolves, living and hunting among them even during the rest of the month. Quite a few "muggle" naturalists and conservationists around the world secretly went furry once a month.

The packs were also splintering. This was true everywhere - natural habitat being paved over, technology rising, younger generations wanting to explore more career opportunities and travel to the cities. It was harder to keep a larger community safe.

The British Wizarding War certainly did not help at all. It had spread fear and anti-lycanthrope sentiments throughout the globe, and it made it particularly unsafe in Britain and drove many of the more peaceful packs to flee.

Which meant the majority of the packs left were not peaceful. Made up largely of those like Greyback, who wanted to be able to attack without restraint. Some members had been turned violently as children and raised in it. Some were bitter and angry youths who had faced too much ostracism and hatred and turned to the one offering an outlet. 

This did not help the overall opinion of werewolves. The peaceful packs went by without notice because, well, they weren't hurting anyone. The violent packs made the news and became the bogeyman parents warned their children about.

Voldemort, of course, was quite happy to use this to his advantage - sending wolves off to cause mayhem in one area so no one noticed what his real forces, his good pureblood supremacist wix, were up to.

In the first war - too young, too naive, too idealistic, too stupid, too inexperienced - Remus had tried currying favor for Dumbledore. Being the only werewolf in Britain attending Hogwarts set off jealous rages in many of the wolves his age. It set off suspicion and distrust in many of the established packs, who were afraid their own children would be pushed into substandard conditions and trained to be child soldiers.

At the time, he had been angry with them. Used it to reinforce the bigotry that he had still believed was truth. 

Now - he was bitter, jaded, and didn't believe a damn word Dumbledore had to say about how he could help werewolves. He went on the Order missions entirely to make sure Dumbledore didn't try sending anyone else. His focus was entirely on dissuading them from Voldemort, who used werewolves as cannon fodder. 

It wasn't difficult to dissuade the more stable packs. Attacking innocent people was horrifying to them. They had the comfort to keep the perspective, to see through Voldemort’s lies and the long term cost to their own kind.  He helped those packs secure their protections and stock up on provisions - two things they had already learned from the first war.

No, it was the lone wolves and packs of disgruntled youth that he had to worry about. They were also the hardest to find and most likely to attack. Thanks to the funds Sirius had set up for him, he was able to bring food and supplies to at least help. Tried to help the ones who were more scared than angry find a healthier place to settle - ideally a secure pack they'd fit well in. A few times he helped them out of Britain, not caring if Dumbledore would be happy to have "potential allies" assisted in fleeing. 

If his mission reports were particularly… edited, well, no one had said anything yet. 

Chapter Text

The DA sessions were going well. Even Neville was starting to make more progress than Harry had ever expected. It was amazing to watch his friends and schoolmates not only mastering spells, but also growing in confidence. Harry still struggled to fully accept credit for any of it, sheepishly insisting it was everyone else’s hard work whenever someone thanked him, but a sense of pride grew in his chest.

It made it easier to make it through Umbridge’s lessons as well. The toad seemed to find this quite irritating, unable to dole out her usual punishments she instead was spending her time putting out more of her Educational Decrees - rules she could instate apparently without restriction. Hermione questioned how allowed this was, but no one pushed against it. She had even banned all clubs, including quidditch teams, without Umbridge's express permission. Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor Captain, was particularly down Harry’s throat to behave and give Umbridge no excuse to shut the team down. 

Unfortunately, potions was not going well. Snape had never particularly liked him, but from the start of the year it seemed impossible for Harry to get a passing grade on a single assignment. Hermione tried tutoring him, watching him like a hawk during class to ensure he did everything properly and scrutinizing his essays. After weeks of this, she finally had to admit that Snape wasn’t grading him fairly. 

This was easy enough to dismiss. He might not be able to continue potions after his OWLs year - but was less time with Snape a loss?

After one of his Friday defense lessons, where Tonks was standing in for Remus again due to a mission, he found himself venting about Snape with them. To his surprise, Tonks shut Sirius’s complaints up quickly- “You’ve never had him as a teacher!” they’d insisted, “This isn’t about your teenage grudge. Let the kids vent!". Sirius turned into Padfoot and sulked.

“Merlin,” Tonks groaned, throwing their head back, “I had so, so wanted to be done with him after OWLs - but, no, I had to want to be an auror…”

Harry made a strangled noise, “I need potions to be an auror?”

“Uh huh. And Snape only takes O on the OWLs or higher,” Tonks said ruefully, shaking their head, “With as clumsy as I am - you can imagine how much of a mess I tended to be. Mum helped me a lot, and ugh I spent so much time cramming for the exam…”

The room felt like it was spinning slightly. Harry hadn’t fully committed to the idea of being an auror, it was hard to think about a life after Hogwarts that didn’t include war, but it had felt right to pursue as a career. Hearing Tonks and Moody and Shacklebolt discuss their work - that was what he wanted to do. 

When he was younger, with the Dursleys, everything he had done was a failure. Being a failure had been something that had just been a fact of his life. Since coming to Hogwarts, well, it felt like he could do things. Succeed. Be someone worth being - and not just “The Boy Who Lived”, either.

Now he was failing, again, the first dream he’d really dared to have died before he even had a chance to pursue it.

“Harry?” Tonks asked, worried. They placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and the wet nose of Padfoot nudged his hand. 

He cleared his throat, shaking his head and staring across the room, “I just - I want to be an auror, but I’m failing potions. Even Hermione can’t get my grades up.”

The dog growled, but the canine instinct to comfort meant he just nuzzled the boy’s chest until Harry started running a hand over the coat, relaxing into the warmth.  

Tonks, however, squawked, “You’re what?!”

Harry grimaced at this, wincing at the accusation.

“No- absolutely not, that slimy git. There is no way that you’ve got Hermione Granger tutoring you and you’re still failing,” Tonks insisted, scowling and their hair going a fiery red, “You’d be an amazing auror and that miserable prat is not going to stop you!”

“Oh!” Harry said softly, flushing. He still wasn’t used to adults standing up for him like this. “But- is there anything you can do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Sirius said firmly, back to human and with a protective arm around Harry’s shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at Tonks, “Your mum still in touch with Slughorn?”

Tonks blinked and then grinned broadly, “Oh - absolutely.”

—

Fancy dinner parties were not something that Remus Lupin had very much experience in. He wasn’t exactly high on the list to be invited to them. Yet, here he was.

After a particularly draining mission of trying to convince teenagers who had been thrown out by their parents that it wasn’t worth joining Voldemort, that attacking the world wouldn’t heal their pain - he had come home to discover that Harry was failing potions and the Blacks in his life had a plan.

A plan which had included being taken to an exclusive robe maker by Andromeda, potions to improve his skin and hair, a week of etiquette lessons, and culminated in a goddamned dinner party. It was intimidating to realize the number of people that Sirius’s cousin was on a first name basis with. Amelia Bones and Elphias Doge from the Wizengamot, Head of the Auror Department Rufus Scrimgeour, a few quidditch players, a senior healer from St Mungo’s and, of course, an incredibly pleased looking Horace Slughorn. 

Thankfully, Remus did not have to do much more than pretend to be charming and that he belonged there as Andromeda did most of the work. Remus found himself seated between a healer and a quidditch player, two people who were rather neutral and the conversations stayed in areas that were quite safe. It was an almost pleasant experience.

The subject of Harry Potter did not come up until after the dinner itself - when everyone was mingling. Andromeda had rather masterfully navigated to be speaking privately to Horace not far from Remus - who had continued his discussion with the healer, who was quite interested to hear about his experiences with healing in the field both during the war and in his travels since. Andromeda then led the conversation quite organically to the subject of Harry.

“I confess, I had no idea you knew the boy!” Horace said amiably, his cheeks red with good wine and pleasant conversation.

“Like most of our world, I was in the dark for his childhood, but I have the good fortune to be old friends with his magical guardian," she replied pleasantly, "He's been getting along quite well with Dora, of course, aspires to be an auror like she is…"

Slughorn's eyes twinkled in a way that reminded Remus very much of a Niffler who had spotted gold. "Goodness, Andromeda, you have such a knack for knowing the finest people. I must confess I had not yet heard about a guardian situation, but of course the dear boy simply must have one!"

"Yes, of course, it's an old friend of Lily’s- you taught him in school," Andromeda said easily. 

Horace furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before he caught sight of Remus and they shot up. He nudged his glass towards the werewolf and gave Andromeda a questioning look.

She chuckled, touching his arm briefly, "Ah, you never did miss a trick, Horace! Shall I reintroduce you?"

"If you would be so kind," he replied with a small bow.

Having kept tabs on the conversation, Remus had already wrapped up his discussion with the healer and began moving away, pretending to be pleasantly surprise when Andromeda caught his attention.

"Lupin, my dear boy!" Horace cried, clapping him on the shoulder, "Ah it seems like just yesterday I was catching you and your friends pilfering my supplies," he gave a wink, "Always to fantastic results, mind, but I certainly couldn't show I was proud of such mischief."

Remus gave a laugh at that, thinking of the fond memories, "It's a pleasure to see you again, Horace, retirement is certainly treating you well."

"Oh, yes, of course one does miss the thrill of inspiring young minds…" he replied. 

"We were just discussing your ward," Andromeda supplied, "Dora was telling me that he's aspiring to be an auror."

"Yes, that's right, hardly surprising considering Harry’s history," Remus said, taking a sip of his wine. 

"I confess I was initially surprised to hear you had taken on the role," Horace mused, "Then I remembered how close you and Lily had been - one of my favorite students, I don't mind telling you now. If he has an ounce of his mother's talent in potions he'll do quite well in his pursuits of auror training."

It took a moment for him to remember the plan, his eyes had gone misty with the memory of potions classes with Lily. She had been his first friend, before he had trusted James or Sirius, and they often worked together when "Sev" was too proud to be seen with a muggle born.

Andromeda shifted slightly, managing to stomp on his toes in a way no one could possibly notice.

"Oh, I agree - unfortunately, he seems to be having trouble with the current potions master at Hogwarts," Remus said, thankful that Horace's greed for an opportunity would overlook many missteps.

The retired professor's face darkened and he nodded solemnly, "I try not to question Albus's judgements, of course, but…" he pressed his lips into a thin line, "That would not be my first choice to teach students in general, and certainly not the son of Lily and James."

"I'm looking to arrange a tutor for him, it is his OWLs year of course," Remus said, keeping his face stoic as an eager glint came into Slughorn's eyes, "Do you know anyone who might be available? It's hard to imagine anyone could match your skills, but of course I know you're retired."

"Retired? Yes, of course…" he said, somewhat distracted, "Though I have been feeling restless and it is quite important to keep one's mind sharp."

"You'll certainly never be dull, Horace," Andromeda practically purred. 

"You are too kind, as always, Andromeda," he said with a chuckle before his expression turned more serious, "Now, of course I do know some tutors - but if the boy has already had his confidence knocked, and surely he has been through quite enough, why I simply could not in good conscience suggest anyone other than myself take the role."

"That would be incredibly generous of you - although you will, of course, be well compensated," Remus remarked.

That sealed it. Remus soon found himself with Horace's contact details and an appointment to meet with him and discuss the details and his conditions. If all went well, Harry would be out of Snape's classes within the week.

—

Minerva was not delighted to have another meeting with Remus, given how the last one had gone. The aged brandy and clanachan he brought did help, though. Remus's etiquette lessons were certainly coming along.

This meeting also was considerably easier. The ministry was unlikely to be bothered by Slughorn's presence at the school, he was well liked by the government, and Umbridge was hardly fond of Snape. Perhaps the small gesture might be seen as a break in confidence with Dumbledore on Harry’s part, potentially playing into the ministry's narrative and making them lay off Harry. At least as long as he kept his mouth shut about Voldemort. 

While he never joined the Order, Slughorn had also made his opinion on Voldemort and Death Eaters known - and was trusted by Dumbledore. Albus was surprisingly pleased by the development, in fact.

Snape might not appreciate being undermined, but it was hardly as though he wanted Harry’s presence. 

They were even, at Harry’s request, able to arrange it so Neville would receive the tutoring as well. The years of bullying during potions would end for both of them. Given the Longbottom family's long standing reputation it hadn't been terribly difficult to convince Slughorn to double his income on this venture, and he'd insisted it was best for students to learn in pairs.

Potions lessons with Slughorn were absolutely nothing like lessons with Snape. While it was still held in a dungeon classroom, with Dumbledore’s blessing Slughorn had decorated it to his liking. He clearly appreciated the creature comforts in life, the room was full of warm tapestries and his table was an elegant carved mahogany. It felt cozy.

Slughorn also taught quite differently. He possessed a remarkable knack for bringing up the various famous students he had had over the years. Including Lily Evans and Frank Longbottom, meaning that on top of learning potions they also got to hear stories about their parents. It was slightly bittersweet, but ultimately quite appreciated. After Remus, Slughorn was the first to so openly compare Harry to his mother. 

The man was affable and encouraging. Rather than spending the time in potions tense and waiting to be insulted, they both found it easier to ask for clarification and the sense of comfort meant fewer mistakes. He asked them for the essays Snape had already assigned them, which neither of them had scraped passing grades on. When they saw him next they were given higher scores, and marked with genuinely helpful corrections. 

After 4 years of lessons with Snape, it was incredibly gratifying. Neville showed a great improvement not just in potions, but in his overall mood. He stood straighter, raised his hand in more lessons, and was making greater strides in the DA meetings. Harry noticed him spending more time studying with Ginny and Luna, and realized he hadn’t really seen Neville with friends before. He felt slightly guilty for not trying harder before, he knew well what it was like to be the awkward kid without friends.

—

The match between Gryffindor and Slytherin came a few weeks after Harry had stopped having lessons with Snape. Unfortunately, this meant that Ron had faced extra bullying from the Slytherins without Harry there to intervene. Ron had managed to get chosen as Gryffindor Keeper, narrowly beating out his competition, and his confidence had been wobbly in their practices and only seemed to be sinking with every horrible remark from the Slytherins.

Harry and Hermione did their best to keep his spirits up. Fred and George even tried to help, although their attempts may have done more harm than good. Ginny reminded him of how well he had done over the summer, that his broom was every bit as good as the Slytherins’ and he had the talent to back it up.

The day of the match came to find Ron looking absolutely peaky. Pale and sweaty. Harry could only hope that a bit of breakfast would improve his mood. 

It did not.

The Slytherins had gone so far as to create a jaunty little song celebrating Ron’s ineptitude. They'd clearly spotted his nerves and smelled blood in the water, it infuriated Harry. This was far beyond dressing up as Dementors to freak Harry out.

He caught the snitch as quickly as possible, securing Gryffindor's victory and saving his friend from further torment.

That couldn't be the end of it, of course. Sore loser that he was, Malfoy had to keep goading Ron - now jeering insults about his parents and home.

The twins caught on to this as well, and turned murderous looks on the pale haired boy. The chasers began to physically restrain them.

"Let me handle this," Harry snarled. Angelina Johnson shot him a warning look which he summarily ignored, stalking over to Malfoy.

"Lay off, Malfoy," he spat, knowing full well it wouldn't make a difference - but he could say he had tried deescalating. 

Malfoy just smirked, "I'm surprised you can stand the stench of their home, then I suppose after being raised by muggles…"

"Malfoy," Harry said venomously, standing close enough that their noses were nearly touching, "Lucius was there. You know he's back. You know you're on the losing side. How long until your spineless coward of a father ends up in Azkaban?"

Malfoy's eye twitched, his face managing to become even paler, "Watch your tongue, Potter."

"You're just Voldemort's little pet, just like your father, next year you'll get the dark mark and when this war is over you'll join dear Auntie Bella in Azkaban," Harry growled, "Don't worry - I know your mum is too smart for that, I'm sure she'll visit, though."

" Don't talk about my mother," Draco hissed, baring his teeth.

"Cissy must be so proud you're following in cousin Regulus's footsteps."

A fist connected with his face. His first thought was genuine surprise, he hadn't thought Draco had it in him. Then, he had seen Lucius and Arthur brawl three years ago. Before he could put another thought together, his own fist was smacking into the boy's jaw. Teeth grazed his knuckles and he thought he felt one give way.

Soon Madam Hooch had stepped in, both boys immobilized, and Harry found himself dragged off by an irate Professor McGonagall. 

"I have never seen anything like this in all my years!" she raged, and Harry managed to bite his tongue to avoid bringing up the time Sirius and his brother had started throwing punches after a match. 

"Muggle dueling!" 

"That wasn't dueling."

Her cheeks were red and Harry closed his eyes as he berated himself.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and deadly, "I beg your pardon?"

"Muggles duel with swords or guns, it's like wizard duelling," he muttered, "That was just a brawl. It's worse." He could not bring himself to meet her eyes, "I'm sorry, Professor. He did throw the first punch."

"And yet, you have barely a scratch on you while he’s got a black eye and lost a tooth - oh, stop looking pleased with yourself! Have you any idea what you've done?"

Harry looked up at her. He bit his lip as he registered the worry in her eyes. Between his tutoring and extracurricular defense, Harry had managed to almost forget the looming threat of Umbridge and the Ministry. He wasn't bothering to read the paper, Hermione did so religiously and told him whenever anything warranted his attention. 

"I am sorry, Professor," he said quietly, "I didn't think."

"That," said McGonagall, "is obvious."

"Hem hem."

They both looked over at the door, which had opened to reveal an incredibly smug looking Dolores Umbridge, holding up yet another educational decree. She made a few inflammatory remarks about Harry’s temper, ignoring that Draco threw the first punch, and handed out a "lifetime ban" from Quidditch. For the first time, Harry wondered how enforceable these educational decrees actually were. Probably not very.

She insisted on confiscating his Firebolt. That almost got enough of a rise out of him, but for over two months he had practiced biting his tongue and keeping a stoic attitude against Umbridge. He would not give her the satisfaction.

After Umbridge left, the office was silent for a long moment. Harry just stared out the window, thinking about what had just happened. Rage had flared but then abated not long after the poor excuse for a professor had left the room. He rubbed his knuckles, slightly sore from punching Malfoy.

"Professor? Please don't write home about this," Harry said quietly.

McGonagall scowled at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know if they'd try to fight it - but I don't think it's worth fighting. I… I honestly did forget how dangerous Umbridge was, and I've got enough going on. It's probably worth staying off the team this year," he explained, looking at his hands and feeling fairly ashamed. McGonagall had been the one to choose him for the team in the first place. Bending the rules to let him join in his first year, getting him his first broom. She'd also tried very hard to express to Harry how vital it was that he not antagonize Umbridge. 

He had done a rather sorry job of repaying her support.

"Have a biscuit, Potter," she said gently to him, offering a tin of shortbread. He simply blinked at her, took one, and waited. Professor McGonagall considered him for a moment, "That is a rather mature conclusion. I've watched you closely since your first day here, and while Remus can be a bit of a thorn in my side - it's clear the positive impact a proper guardian is having on you."

For a moment her nostrils flared, and Harry wondered if she was thinking about the Dursleys.

"I won't write home about this, nor was I planning to. I agree that sitting this year out is a wise idea," she nodded, "Now then, off you go, you've got a transfiguration essay due on Monday."

He smiled at her and thanked her before heading out of the office. As he did, he pulled the mirror out of his bag - he wanted to explain what happened, just in case it somehow made it back to his godfathers, and possibly owed Sirius an apology for what he'd said about his family.

There was an alcove not far from McGonagall's office that Harry ducked into, already calling into the mirror. As usual, it took seconds for Remus's face to appear.

"Are you, erm, alone?" Harry blurted out, heat creeping up his cheeks as he felt like he was handling this terribly.

Remus blinked at him, "Yes - I'm out in the woods. I can head back if you need him."

"No, er, I need to speak to you - I might need your help telling him," he sucked in a breath, as Remus simply frowned slightly and waited for him to speak, "I… I'm not playing quidditch for the rest of the year."

"Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"Well… Malfoy punched me after their team lost the match, I punched back, and Umbridge banned me from Quidditch," Harry said with a slight wince, "But I don't think it's a terrible idea to sit this year out, I don't want you pushing against it or Pads getting angry about it."

"I see," Remus said, "You've been healed up, at least."

Harry bit back a grin, "Actually, no, I didn't say he threw a good punch."

For a moment the scene changed, Remus had moved the mirror so it showed the colorful display of autumn leaves above him and Harry was fairly sure he could recognize a muffliato.

"I… I have to say that violence is wrong and the Malfoys are a powerful family not to be trifled with," Remus said after he moved the mirror back. He was clearly attempting to keep a straight face but his lips kept twitching with mirth. Finally he chuckled properly, "I wish I'd seen that. You'll have to tell us both the full story later."

"That's the thing - so the Slytherins were horrible to Ron, and Malfoy started insulting his parents and his home… so I insulted Malfoy's family, which I know is sort of his family, and I don't know if I crossed a line that'd upset Pads," Harry said gloomily. 

"Ah," Remus said with an understanding nod, "It is complicated - he rejects them, but he's also quite protective. Go on, tell me."

"Well I brought up Bellatrix…"

"There are no words in the English language that are crossing a line when describing her," Remus said flatly and Harry smiled.

"But I also brought up Narcissa. I said she was too smart to be a death eater but would visit Draco in Azkaban."

Remus raised his eyebrows then frowned thoughtfully, "Well you're not wrong."

"...aannddd I said Narcissa must be so proud of Draco for following in Regulus's footsteps."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Okay," Remus said, placing a hand to his lips and tapping a finger against them gently, "Do not bring Reg up around him lightly," he warned and Harry nodded, "I don't think that crossed much of a line - but, yes, I think his knee jerk reaction would be anger."

"That's what I thought," Harry said glumly, then hesitated, "It's still just you, right?"

Remus gave a wry smile, "Regrettably I always smell a bit wolfish so the local wildlife avoid me."

Harry nodded, "The way you said 'Reg' - did you know him?"

"Yes, we were friends in school," he replied quietly, his eyes distant, "I don't agree with your godfather's assessment of him as a coward, but I suppose we'll never know." He took a long breath, closed his eyes, and shook his head, "I do believe you're right about Draco following in his footsteps - which is more heartbreaking than you realize."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, feeling unexpectedly guilty.

"Your situation isn't the same - I'd been friends with him for four years before he took the mark," Remus said kindly, then his face darkened, "I hope you never understand the coercion that goes on in those families, though, I do not envy any of them."

Harry nodded, considering the state of No 12 Grimmauld Place when he first saw it. Not the dust, no, the hordes of dark artifacts. And that was after Sirius and some of the Order members had spent weeks making it more hospitable. He thought about what he had seen in Knockturn Alley, when he had ended up there after a floo powder related accident before his second year.

The Dursleys were terrible, but they were muggle. It wasn't hard to imagine what his life would have been like if they had access to dark magic.

"I never thought I'd pity Malfoy," Harry said glumly.

Remus smiled at him, "I'm afraid you get that from your mother - massive heart, she was always kind to a fault. I'm just glad you've had the good sense not to waste years trying to reform a slimy git who's adamant about becoming a death eater."

Harry let the familiar warmth and ache of hearing about his mother pass over him, before he processed the rest of the statement.

"She wasn't friends with Snape," he gasped, mouth falling open.

"Oh yes," Remus said with a grimace, "Much to his deep irritation - he was after her for himself. I'll eat my hat if his attitude towards you isn't because you're a walking reminder that Lily chose James."

Harry laughed. A bit too loudly, it echoed in the hall he had ducked out of and he put his hand over his mouth before glancing out nervously. The hallway was empty. Years of wondering what he'd done to make the man hate him finally melted away. All the memories he had of Snape now framed in the light of a bitter sod who couldn't accept the girl he liked rejecting him. 

It was pathetic.

"Why wasn't I told this before?" Harry demanded playfully.

Remus smirked, "Because I figured you'd end up with detention every time you saw the tosser if you had that taunt up your sleeve. He's not your professor anymore."

"And thank Merlin for that," Harry sniggered.

—

The mood in the common room was a bit gloomier than it usually would be after winning a match. Somehow the news that Harry had been banned managed to reach the Gryffindors before Harry himself could.

They were going to have to replace him, something Angelina Johnson was quite bitter over. 

"At least my behavior won't impact the team anymore, yeah?" Harry offered and she just groaned and walked away. 

Ron and Harry ended up sitting by the fireplace, Crookshanks stretched over their laps, just watching it sadly. Ron was still mortified by his poor performance. Harry felt like he was letting everyone down, and couldn't get Remus’s comments about Regulus and Draco out of his head. Harry hadn't expected to ever truly get under the boy's skin - yet for a moment, he had looked scared.

"What did you say that got Malfoy to punch you?" Ron asked, nudging Harry with his elbow and managing to put on a bit of a smile. Likely hoping for some really clever insult.

Harry shook his head and said darkly, "I told him that his mother must be proud that he's following in his cousin Regulus's footsteps?"

"Regulus… isn't he the one who You-Know-Who offed at 18?" Ron asked, eyes wide, "Blimey… that's a low blow."

Crookshanks grumbled, repositioning himself and they both watched the great, orange cat for a few minutes.

"Remus thinks it's true, though, he told me this afternoon," Harry said softly, "And I realized - I never thought about what those families might be willing to do to keep their kids in line."

"I guess," Ron grumbled, "But he's still an absolutely spoiled prat. His dad gives him everything he wants and makes everyone's life miserable. So don't go feeling too sorry for him - Padfoot got out when he was our age, right? Not your fault Malfoy chose to sink himself in with a bad crowd."

Harry leaned back, the movement irritating Crookshanks enough for the cat to stalk off. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Chapter Text

The last DA meeting of the term felt like it came too soon. Everyone was continuing to make wonderful progress - particularly Neville. He'd come along so well with the impediment jinx that he was able to freeze Harry three times in a row before Harry set him up with another pair so he could walk around the room to check on everyone else.

When he walked past Cho, she beamed at him and he managed a shy smile back. A year ago he had wanted to invite her to the Yule Ball. Had managed to ask, even, and maybe he was imagining it but she had seemed sad to say no. 

Then she had started dating Cedric, and, well, Harry had been the one to watch him die and drag his body back. 

Now he wasn't quite sure how he felt about her. She had been smiling at him more, which sent butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But he also caught sight of her crying sometimes, which he knew was due to Cedric. 

It almost wasn't a surprise when Harry found that Cho was the last one to leave after the room had emptied. Hermione had noticed this, too, finding an excuse to drag Ron off when the numbers had dwindled down so only Cho and Marietta were left. Not long after he caught sight of Cho sending her own friend off.

His stomach gave a little leap, then he looked over and tears were streaming down her cheeks. His heart sank.

"I'm sorry," Cho said, wiping her eyes. She half laughed, but it came out as a sob, "I just… learning all this… if Cedric had known it… would he still be alive?"

Harry hesitated, "I never told you what happened, did I?" His voice was glum, this certainly wasn't how he had wanted to end his evening.

She looked up at him with wide, shining eyes, and shook her head slightly. Harry nodded and began sharing the story. How they had run into each other in the maze. Krum had attacked Cedric - which they know knew was under the Imperius Curse. Learning a Death Eater had been in the maze made Cho gasp in horror.

Then, finding the cup. Both of them refusing to take it. Cho gave a small laugh at that, remarking on how selfless he had always been. Harry choked slightly when he recounted how he had convinced Cedric to take it with him - if only he hadn't…

Cho set an understanding hand on his arm, giving him a sad smile. 

"Before we even knew where we were, before we could even see anyone, a cold voice said 'Kill the spare' and the curse came out of nowhere," Harry said tersely, "Cedric knew all of this - but we'd just been grabbed by an unexpected port key and thrown at Voldemort's feet. Very, very few could survive that."

Cho took a shuddery breath, wiping her face, "Thank you."

She looked up and gave a watery laugh, shaking her head, "I'm sorry, Harry. I- I think I've been after you this year because I wanted to feel the way I used to with Cedric. But that's not fair. You aren't him, and I know you aren't, I don't know when I'll be ready to move on."

Harry followed her gaze, spotting the mistletoe and flushing. They both looked back at each other. Cho leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

"You're a really good teacher, Harry, thank you," she said with a small smile before walking out of the room.

He stared after her, not sure how to feel. Part of him was quite heartbroken, part of him was relieved. It was also the first time he'd discussed what had happened in about 6 months. It was a bit easier, but it still ached. 

He picked up his bag to pull out the mirror. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to talk to his godfathers about this, maybe just confirming plans for Christmas would put him back in the good spirits he'd been in ten minutes ago.

Only, it wasn't there. He frowned, digging through it. Eventually he pulled everything out, emptying it and shaking it. He checked the lining for holes. There was nothing. The mirror wasn't there. Quickly he threw everything back into the bag and dashed out the door. He raced through the Common Room, ignoring Ron and Hermione who were waiting for him - looking eager to hear how things had gone with Cho.

Ron came into the dorm a few minutes after Harry arrived. He had already torn all the bedding off his bed and was throwing things out of his trunk, desperately searching for the mirror.

"Harry? Mate, what the hell?" Ron asked, perplexed.

"I can't find the mirror!" Harry said tersely, reaching the bottom of his trunk and cursing.  With a flick of his wand he packed his things back. It was messy, but everything was at least in his trunk and his bedding was at least piled on the bed.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing, "It can't have fallen out. I never put it down outside my bag…"

Ron looked around the room in alarm, "When did you have it last?"

"I-" Harry stopped, cringing as he tried to remember. Everything had been so busy. He hadn't been using it that often, he saw at least one of his godfathers every week. 

"I heard you on it a couple nights ago," Ron offered helpfully.

Harry flushed, "I forgot the silencing spell."

"Yeh…" Ron agreed with a strangled smile, "Good thing Seamus can't exactly recognize Sirius’s voice, eh?"

"Okay… I at least had it three days ago. And in the dorm. I haven't taken it out since then…" he felt his face go pale, "It may have been stolen."

"Last time someone stole something from our dorm they made a right mess of it," Ron pointed out hopefully.

Harry shook his head, "Ginny had done that when she was panicking- but there's someone who could send a house elf in to knick something."

Ron’s face went pale, "You don't think… Umbridge wouldn't?"

"That's exactly what I think," Harry said grimly, "I need to go to the owlery - the best I can do is send a heavily coded letter to warn them."

—

Sirius’s mirror tended to live in one of two places - Remus’s pocket, or laying on the nearest end table. When it was laying out, Remus fussed that it had to be placed somewhere with no identifiable features just to be safe. Which resulted in grumbling from Sirius over the man’s paranoia.

Paranoia that turned out to be fully justified when the mirror activated not to reveal their godson's smiling face, but instead a rather lurid pink ceiling and a high pitched voice.

"Sirius Black," the voice piped up, "I know that this mirror has been used to contact-"

Remus had cast a wordless silencing charm over the mirror, staring up above it to confirm it would pick up nothing but his rather nondescript ceiling. 

Across the sofa, Sirius’s face had drained of what little color it had. Remus grimaced, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the front door. He wasn't risking anything, even with the silencing charm up.

"Is that-?"

"Umbridge," Remus spat, recognizing her voice from radio shows when she had been pushing for anti-werewolf legislation.

"Harry-" Sirius croaked.

"Should be fine, the old bat probably just stole it, he may not have even noticed yet," Remus said firmly, though he was speaking through gritted teeth and desperately wanted to storm the castle, "I'll contact Minerva - but I trust her to have told is if something were wrong."

Sirius did not look convinced, looking warily into the window. He could just make out the mirror, which now was showing an ugly, toad-like face. She appeared to be shouting into the mirror, getting more aggravated. 

"Can you use that mirror to trace the other?" Remus asked after sending the message off.

"I don't- not normally but Merlin knows what kind of spells and gadgets the Ministry could have," Sirius grunted, rubbing a hand over his face, "Fuck. It was some family heirloom of James's. I don't think he even understood the magic on it."

Remus nodded, relaxing slightly, "Okay. That's probably good, then, a lot of old pureblood heirlooms are either forgotten magic or so well protected ot isn't worth trying."

"We just gonna avoid the cottage until she gives up?" Sirius asked, shivering slightly in the cold, winter air. 

"That's my first instinct," Remus admitted sheepishly, "We can go to the village for dinner if you'd like - Padfoot is well enough liked, we could even go into a restaurant." 

Sirius just shrugged, scowling at the mirror.  The old hag was poking at it with her wand, sending flashes of light. 

"The mirror's gone off," Sirius muttered, "I'll set it so it can't be reached again." 

"Did you show Harry how to do that?" Remus asked, following Sirius back into the cottage. The animagus took out his wand and muttered a simple spell. The mirror looked cloudier than usual.

"'Course," Sirius said warily, flipping the mirror upside down and shaking his head, "Can't promise he's remembered how to do it."

They ended up staying in, cooking dinner together. Eventually Minerva sent a reply back, somewhat tersely, insisting that yes Mr Potter was just fine and they would not make a habit of asking.

The timing wasn't terrible, at least. The term was nearly over and it wouldn't be long until they'd be picking Harry up from King's Cross.

—

After returning from the Owlery and getting ready for bed, a silvery mist came into the dorm.

"The toad has your mirror, we're staying at mum's if you need to call," it said in Sirius’s voice. Harry almost laughed at the bitter tone he used when describing it as 'staying at mum's'.

This, of course, drew the attention of all of his dorm mates. Ron looked a bit green, knowing exactly what was being talked about. Neville looked concerned. Seamus, who still believed the Daily Prophet's lies glared suspiciously.

Dean, however, simply looked fascinated, "Was that a patronus? I thought they were usually animal shaped."

"Er, yeh, but you can choose not to. Remus - Professor Lupin - doesn't like using a corporeal patronus, just the mist," Harry explained uncomfortably, which was true, "Because it's a wolf and he's…" he waved his hand, it was hardly a secret.

"Oh that makes sense! He's the one you've been talking to with that mirror all year, right? Sorry that hag got her mitts on it," Dean said pleasantly as he went back to making his bed. 

Seamus muttered something under his breath that Harry was quite glad he hadn't heard. Neville still looked doubtful but got himself settled for bed as well, and Ron’s face was turning back to its normal color. 

If any of them had noticed the patronus did not sound like Remus, well, they didn't say anything. Harry closed the curtains around his bed and pulled a pillow over his head, groaning into it. That confirmed his suspicions - Umbridge had gotten into his things and stolen the mirror. Which meant his own school bag wasn't even private. 

After a great deal of tossing and turning, he fell into a fitful sleep.

–

"Oh, good, you're actually where you're supposed to be!"

Sirius scowled up at Phineas Nigellus, who had barged into one of the sitting room portraits and shouted at them until they woke up. Between Remus’s extra strong hearing and both men's anxiety over the evening's events - as evidenced by them nodding off on the sofa instead of bothering with bed - it had taken very little to rouse them.

"What does Albus need?" Remus grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Your godson and the Weasley children will be here shortly. Their father was attacked," Phineas replied haughtily. 

Sirius and Remus jumped up at that. Sirius tried interrogating the portrait for more information while Remus hurried to make sure the bedrooms were ready. The former headmaster scoffed at his great great grandson and stormed off back to Hogwarts.

Minutes later, a portkey brought a gaggle of bedraggled and panicked teenagers into the house. Their arrival was met with a cruel remark from Kreacher, “Back again, the blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father’s dying?”

“Get out!” roared Sirius, closing the kitchen door behind him before turning to the kids worriedly. Remus was at the stove preparing hot chocolate, and Sirius soon found himself having to explain why they couldn't storm into the hospital at 3am. 

"They won't even let you visit! It is the middle of the night. All you'll do is get underfoot and distract people from what they need to do to save him,” Sirius explained, exasperated.

"He's our dad!" Fred shouted.

"Who you can see during visiting hours!"

"He could be dying!" Ron growled.

"If he were, you'd be invited to see him," Remus said firmly, placing mugs of hot chocolate in everyone's hands, "Being here means that he is not dying."

"You don't know that!" Fred roared, "This is all just to protect the fucking Order - which is the only reason he may be dying!"

"It's more to protect Harry - and unless you have some heretofore undisclosed healing abilities, there is nothing you can do that the healers at St Mungo’s can't," Sirius pointed out loudly.

Ginny had sunk into one of the chairs, drinking the hot chocolate with glazed eyes. Harry was sat next to her, stirring his drink and staring numbly into space for a few moments. The bickering continued without them.

Eventually he leaned over, "Erm - this may be a bad time, but can I ask about your first year? With Riddle?"

Ginny gave a hollow laugh and nodded, "Think you might be possessed by him?"

"Yeah…" he said quietly, "When I had the vision - I felt like I was the snake, I…" he squeezed his eyes shut, "I wanted to hurt, to kill, like the snake did."

Ginny placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, "That wasn't you, Harry."

"I know…" he sucked the air in through his teeth, "Just… what if he could make me feel like that? Could make me hurt people?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said with a bitter smile, drinking some more of the hot chocolate and grimacing, "When he was possessing me - I was losing time. I'd, like, wake up and have no idea how I got somewhere. I'd be covered in feathers or paint or…" she shuddered, "...or blood and I wouldn't know how. I'd have no idea what I'd been doing when someone was attacked. I felt like I was going insane."

Harry looked at her, "I'm sorry. That you went through it. That I haven't asked before now."

Ginny shrugged, "Everyone wants to forget it happened," she said darkly, "I sure wish I could."

"Yeah, I know what that's like," he agreed with a lopsided smile. 

The argument over rushing to the hospital didn't seem likely to settle until a message from Molly came through. Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, burst into the room in flash of fire before disappearing again, leaving a single feather and a note in Molly’s handwriting.

‘Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. All my love, Mum.’

This did not improve the mood, ‘still alive’ making them think he was at risk of dying, but it at least placated them enough to stop demanding to go to the hospital. They weren’t willing to even try heading for bed, not wanting to miss even a second when news of Mr Weasley’s condition finally came. After the hot chocolate was gone, Sirius managed to get toast into them. Otherwise he and Remus sat in grim silence, occasionally making eye contact with each other or Harry, leaving the Weasley family space for their shared grief. 

—

It was two hours later when Molly finally arrived. They had been the longest two hours of Harry’s life. She walked into the kitchen and all eyes were on her.

“He's going to be alright,” she said in a shaky voice, offering a worn smile, “We’ll all visit him later. Bill’s sitting with him now, will be all morning.”

Relief flooded the room. The Weasley children rushed over to hug their mother. Sirius began cooking breakfast for them all, and Harry went over to help him. Molly went over to thank Harry - if not for his vision, Arthur wouldn’t have made it. She also thanked Sirius for taking care of her children that night, and he was quite pleased to have been helpful.

After breakfast was cooked, Harry pulled Sirius to the side, wanting to talk about what had happened. They brought three plates up to the sitting room, giving the Weasleys privacy p. Remus was curled up on the armchair, watching the fire with far away eyes, having slipped out after hearing Arthur was alive and would be well. He looked up when they came in with a tired smile.

“I want to tell you about the vision - and ask what you think,” Harry explained nervously, before going into detail about his vision. How he had the point of view of the snake, had felt the urge to attack and kill, had felt ‘his’ fangs sinking into Arthur. 

He paused for breath, and both men were watching him thoughtfully. 

“Then - after… I think I’m going mad,” he whispered, “In Dumbledore’s office, just before we took the Portkey - when I looked at Dumbledore, for a couple of seconds I felt like a snake - my scar really hurt and I wanted to attack him!”

“That makes two of us,” Remus muttered. Sirius elbowed him, hard, and he held up his hands.

“It must have been the aftermath of the vision, what happened in Dumbledore’s office,” Sirius said firmly.

“It wasn’t that,” Harry said, shaking his head, “It felt like there is a snake inside me.”

“Can I look?” Remus asked, frowning slightly. Harry nodded. Remus rubbed his forehead, “Dumbledore will be here later, if I find anything I can ask him about it.”

The rage flared up in his stomach again. For a moment he considered, maybe, he should try to hide that but as Remus leaned forward and locked eyes with Harry, he felt a vindictive desire for someone to see. The sensation of legilimency was familiar, too familiar considering the precious few times he had agreed to it. The gentle probing, not having to look far to dig up Harry’s experience from just a few hours ago. The vision, the time in Dumbledore’s office, even the rage he felt now.

Then it passed, Harry felt his plate pressed into his hands and Remus was frowning at the fire.

“I have to apologize - I lied before,” Remus said, “I have no reason to believe Dumbledore will be here, I was making sure that the feelings towards him were at the forefront.”

Harry nodded, feeling a bit numb, “He’s barely acknowledged me all year.”

“Which is strange for you,” Remus said, “I hadn’t realized how closely he had worked with you before now.”

Sirius glanced at him in alarm, “He’d been working closely with Harry - then just dropped that after he went through something incredibly traumatic?”

“It is Dumbledore,” Remus said bitterly. He poked at his own plate, shaking his head, “I am not an expert - I use legilimency sparingly, when it will help me survive, I’m not sure what I found but something is there. It was there this summer, when we started practicing occlumency and you got the headache, but I didn’t realize it at the time.”

Harry sat up straighter, eager to learn more. Sirius chided them both to eat first, which Harry did with some difficulty.

“Let me check something, love,” Remus said to Sirius after he’d placed his plate on the coffee table. Sirius gave a small huff but obliged, meeting his gaze. Remus examined him in a way that reminded Harry of a doctor checking the eyes for a concussion. Soon he pulled away, nodding to himself.

“Are you familiar with how being an animagus works, Harry?” he asked, and Harry just shook his head, “The process creates the sensation of two heartbeats - in a sense, your spirit bonds with the animal's spirit, so it can result in a feeling such as having a snake in you.” He glanced over at Sirius for confirmation, who nodded. “Being a werewolf is somewhat similar - however the animal is far more separate, I always have the sense of the wolf being inside of me, and it often feels at odds with my human self. Particularly when I was your age, or near the full moon - it can bring out great rage and a desire to attack.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not quite able to meet Harry’s eyes.

Harry leaned forwards, “That sounds like what I’ve been feeling.”

Remus nodded, rolling his lips together and glancing at Sirius again before taking a deep breath and continuing, “You did not transform into the snake, of course, and the vision - the snake sensation - seems to have a similar origin to the way your scar hurts when Voldemort is near or feeling a strong emotion.”

“Hang on - Harry, the snake? I don’t suppose you have a sense of how large it was?” Sirius asked suddenly, sitting up straight and looking at the boy.

“Er - massive.”

“Nagini,” Sirius said with a shudder, “I’d hoped that damn serpent had died…” Both Harry and Remus were giving him a questioning look and Sirius grimaced. “When I was growing up - well, you know what my family was like. Voldemort was an honored guest. Almost always showed up with this great, monstrous snake,” he chuckled darkly, “Bella would tell Reggie and me that if we didn’t behave, we’d get fed to it. Looks like she wasn’t bluffing.”

“I’ve heard about that snake,” Remus said, “There’ve been reports of it for as long as there’ve been reports of Voldemort.”

“Of course… the snake from the graveyard, and the visions from last year…” Harry murmured, shaking his head in disbelief that it had taken so long for him to put that together, “But the snake is completely separate to Voldemort - how could I see through its eyes?”

“Maybe he can possess it?” Sirius suggested.

“I’ve never heard of anything like it…” Remus frowned, “Have you ever had a vision from the perspective of the snake before?” he asked and Harry shook his head again. Remus nodded grimly, “Well - it’s hardly surprising that the Dark Lord has powers we’ve never heard of. Sirius - you can check the family library?”

“Sure, worth a try,” he replied, stretching, “I think Kreacher messes with it sometimes. All summer, I kept glancing in and finding different books out. Could just be haunted, wouldn’t put it past this place.”

Harry snorted slightly at the suggestion, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Sirius watched him attempt to stifle a yawn and gave a small chuckle, “Alright, that’s enough - we’re all safe now. You’ll see Arthur soon. Time for all of us to grab some sleep.”

Chapter Text

Harry did not sleep. Despite the reassurance from Ginny, he still felt like something evil was inside him and could attack at any moment. The comparison to lycanthropy at least helped him feel understood - but also made his skin crawl to imagine he could transform into the snake. That wasn’t what happened. There was no reason to think it would happen. There was also no way he was getting any sleep.

Maybe he’d ask about being allowed to stay at the cottage alone for the next few nights, just to be safe. It was warded to keep outsiders safe from dangerous creatures, after all.

Everyone’s trunks from school had been delivered by the time they needed to leave for the hospital. The Weasleys were all excited, in far better spirits after some sleep and eager to see their dad alive and on the mend. They would be taking the London underground, which meant dressing in muggle clothing. Harry and Remus found themselves the experts on this part of the venture.  Tonks and Moody would be guarding them as well, and Harry actually managed a smile at the thought of Mad-Eye Moody on the muggle underground.

They made their way to St Mungo’s without incident. Tonks and Moody left the children and Molly to speak with Arthur, and Remus made his way over to another bed after Arthur had pointed it out to him - the man there had been bitten by a werewolf.

"You're the one who finds the condition quite easy to manage?" the man asked with a look of intense disdain when Remus introduced himself.

Remus raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Merlin, is that how he described me?" The man nodded somewhat warily and Remus glanced over at Arthur with a fond smile, "He means well…"

The man scowled, "How would you put it, then?"

Remus magiced a chair over so he could sit down, looking over the man’s face for a moment and kept his face grave, "This? Sucks."

The man blinked at him in surprise, then laughed. It was a loud, hearty noise that earned some dirty looks from other patients and curious glances from the Weasleys. Gradually he shook his head and wiped his eyes dry, looking back up at Remus with a much brighter expression. 

"What are the transformations like?" 

Remus grinned, "Awful. Whatever you're imagining? It's worse."

The other man gave a softer laugh, shaking his head. He placed his hands over his face for a moment, "Do you ever stop feeling like you can't be angry? If I so much as show discomfort during a procedure - the whole room jumps."

"You can find people it's safe to be angry around," he replied with a sigh, "But no - you'll spend the rest of your life having to be mild mannered."

"Damn."

"You get used to the new senses, though, and they're quite useful. Need to develop a good poker face, though, a lot of people go on edge when they realize how much we can pick up," he added pleasantly, although he dropped his voice. 

"Have to take your word for it - in this place there's absolutely nothing pleasant to hear or smell," the man muttered quietly. 

The sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention, although an observer may not have realized as neither looked up. Remus watched the man flinch and curl into himself ever so slightly at the approach of another person, knew that feeling well, and his chest ached. 

"Er, hello, is it alright if I join your chat?" a nervous voice said. Remus glanced over long enough to give Harry a fond smile, and the man finally looked up - then realization crossed his face and he was stunned. Harry reached his hand out to him, "I'm Harry."

"Lewis," the man said, his hand shaking as he reached out to take Harry’s hand, his face pale and eyes still wide.

Harry gave him a warm smile and placed his other hand on the man’s. 

Remus felt his heart swell and then break at everyone who should be here to see how amazing this child had become. James and Lily deserved to see this. Sirius should have been able to be here, not hidden away as penance for someone else's sins.

He steadied his breathing.

"Has your family been able to visit?" Harry asked.

The man, Lewis, dropped his hand and looked at his lap, shaking his head.

"Being bitten can…" Remus explained, rolling his lips together. Harry frowned at that. 

"Have you heard from them at all?" Remus asked quietly. 

Lewis nodded jerkily, "Wife's already filed for divorce," he squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with a hand, "I don't fancy my chances of ever seeing my kids again."

"But - that's horrible," Harry said, looking at Remus in horror.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, placing a hand on Lewis's shoulder, "There's places you can go where you'll be safe at least - but the courts right now…"

"You got custody of me!" Harry objected, "Why wouldn't they let him?"

"Through the muggle courts," Remus reminded him.

Lewis looked up in surprise at that, looking between Remus and Harry, "But - you're Harry Potter, and he… he's a half breed."

"He's one of the best wizards I've ever met," Harry said coolly, crossing his arms.

"You really are as barmy as the Prophet says," Lewis said in disbelief.

Remus cuffed him softly on the ear, and Harry just rolled his eyes and pulled up a chair, nodding at his godfather, "It's been 30 years since he was bitten and he's still just as self deprecating."

Lewis sat up straighter, “You’ve survived 30 years of this?”

They had a fairly pleasant chat after that. Lewis fairly quickly realized that Harry wasn’t looking to be put on a pedestal and settled into the conversation, grateful for the company. Before they left, Remus had made sure to exchange contact information, ask Lewis to confirm with the healers if he could have wolfsbane potion that month, and assured him there were options - not necessarily great options, but his life wasn’t over, either.

—

Not long after they returned from the hospital, Ginny pulled Harry aside. He was somewhat alarmed by this, as she’d never done anything like it before and for the last three years had rather consistently gone pink and silent every time Harry was around. 

“While you were talking to the fella, with the bite,” Ginny explained nervously, “Mum sent us out and we used the Extendable Ears to listen in.”

Harry stared at her, biting his cheek and nodding to go on. It couldn’t be anything terrible, surely they wouldn’t be discussing private Order business in the middle of a ward?

“They said…” she closed her eyes to remember, “They said there was no sign of the snake, and that it seemed like Dumbledore had been waiting for you to have a vision like this - and Moody said he thinks You-Know-Who’s possessing you.”

“But you said-!” Harry cried in alarm.

“I know!” Ginny snapped, frowning at him and crossing her arms, “You really think that paranoid old goat knows more than someone who has actually been possessed by him?” Harry shook his head sheepishly and Ginny gave him a small smile, “I’m letting you know because the others heard it - I don’t want you to be blindsided if they ask. And also to make sure you weren’t going to be daft and get it in your head that you’ve been possessed!”

Harry scratched his cheek and gave a small smile, “I didn’t realize you knew me so well.”

“Apparently surviving a basilisk and evil diary together has that effect,” she replied wryly, and Harry laughed.

She went to leave and Harry stopped her, “Hey - over the summer, when we played Quidditch, you took seeker a few times and did pretty well. Have you considered trying out for the team? Now that I’ve gotten myself banned?”

Ginny looked startled. Her ears turned pink the way Ron’s often did and she gave a small shrug, “Well, er, yeah… I would really like to. I haven’t got a broom, though.”

“I’d let you use mine, but that hag’s confiscated it,” Harry said with a sigh before offering another smile, “You should give it a go, anyways.” 

She tilted her head at him and grinned, “You know - I just might.”

—

That afternoon, Harry finally dozed off on the couch in the tapestry room. Padfoot was draped over his lap and also snoring softly. He slept through until the early hours of the next morning, waking up sore from the awkward angle. When he finally stirred, Sirius brought him downstairs and put together some food to fill his growling stomach. He’d missed dinner the night before.

“Moody thinks I’m being possessed by Voldemort,” Harry mumbled halfway through a bowl of porridge with brown sugar and butter. Sirius gave him a confused look and he shrugged, “The others used extendable ears - Ginny told me what they heard.”

“Well that sounds like Alastor,” Sirius said with a nod, sipping a mug of hot chocolate. He had made it for the both of them. The man leaned back in his chair, “I want to say ‘of course you aren’t’, but Moony would ask you how you feel about that - so I guess you can pick which response you prefer.”

Harry snorted, “Ginny insists that I’m not, and she’d know. But I don’t think anyone knows what is happening - and I’m worried everyone’s going to be scared of me, or that I am dangerous.”

“Dumbledore may know, or have some ideas,” he said, then sighed, “But he’s not exactly forthcoming.” Harry grimaced at that and Sirius gave him a sad smile before placing a hand on his arm, “You wouldn’t be here if we thought you could do harm - we’ve had some experience in making sure the people we love don’t hurt anyone even if they do turn into great monstrous beasts.”

“That is true,” he said with a small laugh, then he bit his lip, “I couldn’t fall asleep - last night, well, this morning, in the room with Ron. I’m really scared I’ll hurt him. I almost - maybe it’d be better for me to stay at the cottage alone?”

Sirius raised both his eyebrows and brought his mug to his lips. His other hand tensed into a fist for a moment before relaxing and he nodded, “Okay, we’ll figure out how you can feel comfortable sleeping. Moony’ll have some ideas for that.”

Harry let out a long breath and smiled, “Thanks, Padfoot.”

“‘Course, Prongslet.”

—

That day was spent decorating the house for Christmas. Sirius was in a better mood than Harry had ever seen him, wearing a santa hat and belting out carols.  Remus was wearing a trapper hat with thick leather flaps over his ears - which initially had Harry concerned, as it was quite warm with every fireplace in the house roaring, until the werewolf explained it was to help with the noise. By dinner, every surface seemed to be covered with tinsel. Each room had at least one Christmas tree. The majority of the decorations were muggle, it wasn’t like the decorations in Hogwarts that often featured live fairies and floating baubles or candles. 

One room had been spared this treatment, the sitting room, which had one relatively sparsely decorated tree and a radio set to a classical music station. While Harry quite appreciated the cheer of the rest of the house, it was nice to have a place that was more calm. 

That evening brought with it a great surprise - Hermione. After hearing about the attack, and that everyone was going to spend the holidays in Grimmauld Place, she had convinced her parents to go skiing without her. Ron, Harry, and Ginny were absolutely delighted to have her there. 

The house was unrecognizable from the dank, grim homage to dark magic that Harry had first visited during the summer.

That evening again found him on the couch in the tapestry room. This time, he was sitting with Ron and Hermione. Padfoot was laying on the floor in front of the fire, Crookshanks curled up next to him.  Hermione was watching the two of them thoughtfully.

“They were our age when they managed that,” she mused, cocking her head to one side, “Becoming animagi, I mean,” she explained to Ron and Harry’s confused look.

Harry nodded, “That’s right- they were in fifth year, I think that’s what Remus said. I haven’t asked about it much.”

“If that wanker Pettigrew could manage it, surely we could,” Ron muttered, he had never fully recovered from discovering his beloved family pet was a death eater - not that Harry could blame him for the sentiment.

The dog snorted in response to that, though he had shown no signs of listening in before then. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well, the ministry certainly won’t be keen on me registering to be an animagus,” Harry pointed out wryly. 

“No…” Hermione agreed, tapping her chin, “Although it won’t be the first illegal potion you’ve ever taken…”

“Or the only thing you’re doing right now that the ministry doesn’t approve of,” Ron agreed, looking at Hermione with fascination.

“It’s a good way to stay safe,” he admitted, “I get the feeling we’ll have to convince Remus, though - I don’t think Sirius’ll go behind his back on it.” Harry picked a throw pillow off the couch and tossed it at the dog, “Stop pretending you aren’t eavesdropping, already!”

“Oy!” Sirius said with a laugh, transforming back to a human and pulling the slightly disgruntled Crookshanks onto his lap, “You were doing great, anyways, I didn’t have anything to add.”

“You think we could do it, then?” Ron asked.

Sirius nodded, “You’ll have help - we didn’t - so I can’t see why not. That’s not to be taken lightly, though, it is incredibly dangerous if it goes wrong. So no going off and trying to make it happen in the Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, alright?”

Hermione blushed and Ron grinned brightly. 

“And Remus…?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“It’s too late to try and do it over this holiday, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to try while you’re in school - what with Umbridge squawking out imperial decrees every other day - so he’s got about 6 months to get used to the idea,” he replied with a shrug.

“We’re actually going to do it, then?” Hermione asked, placing a hand over her mouth. She was not accustomed to having adult approval to her more ambitious schemes, “The species you become - how does that work? Do you get to decide at all?”

Sirius shook his head, “It’s like the patronus - it’s a reflection of who you are. Based on our experience, I think that what you need at the time makes a difference. I might’ve been a more reasonably sized dog if I didn’t need to keep a wolf at bay.”

“I might be a stag, then, like my dad - I’ve got the same patronus as him,” Harry said somewhat hopefully.

“I’ve never really thought about what kind of animal I’d become,” Ron mused.

“You’d probably be something strong and dependable, Ronald,” Hermione said very matter of factly - until she realized what she’d said and her cheeks and Ron’s ears both went pink at the same time. Neither looked at the other. Harry and Sirius caught each other’s eyes and smirked.

—

That night, Harry slept with Padfoot curled up at the foot of his bed. He’d been well assured that the dog would awaken if Harry were to get up, change into a giant snake, or otherwise do anything that could put others’ safety at risk. Part of him felt somewhat childish for needing it, but neither of his guardians seemed to regard this as remotely unusual behavior and it was the first time in two nights he had been able to sleep properly. 

As he sank into sleep, he found himself drifting through darkness and then walking through an empty corridor. The walls on either side were rough stone, lit by torches, with a plain black door at the end. Something about the door was important. Something important was behind it, his heart’s deepest desire, if only he could get it open… His scar prickled in the dream, if only it would stop so he could think more clearly… 

He woke up feeling restless. This close to the solstice, the darkness outside gave him no sense of time - although Ron’s snoring and the stillness in the rest of the house suggested it was quite early. He looked down the bed, and saw Padfoot looking up at him, silver eyes gleaming. Well, that at least confirmed that the dog would be aware of any issues.

He glanced at the clock, it was about 7 am. That wasn’t terrible. He looked back at the dog and asked quietly, “Is it too early to wake up Remus?”

Padfoot shook his head and trotted off, opening the door with his paws as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Harry climbed out of bed, putting his slippers and dressing gown on then hesitated. The dream he’d just had had felt off - not nearly in the way as the vision, though. The hallway was, surely, the same as the one the snake had been in. Only, seen through human eyes this time.

What if it was just a coincidence? 

Even if it was, though, he wanted answers - and he wasn’t going to be getting them out of Dumbledore. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, hoping Sirius and Remus would be more obliging. 

Sirius was coming back up the stairs when Harry left the room and gave him a smile, “He was already up - there’s tea and toast for you in the kitchen.” 

Harry nodded, relieved that he at least hadn’t dragged anyone out of bed for this. He followed his godfather downstairs and took a seat at the end of the table where Remus had laid out three cups and three plates for them. He looked up with concern but gave Harry a warm smile.

“I dreamed about the corridor, the one from the attack, last night,” he said when he sat down. He clenched his fists on the table and met their eyed defiantly, “It wasn’t a normal dream - I saw it from the perspective of a human. My scar was hurting. The door that Arthur had been guarding, I felt such an intense yearning to open it. I want to know what’s going on."

“We’re certainly guarding the right place, then,” Sirius mused, although he was frowning, “I’m not being told as much as you think - Dumbledore’s always kept secrets even among Order members. Thinks it keeps things safer or something.”

“As proven by the rousing success of Sirius deciding Pettigrew was trustworthy,” Remus added with a dark chuckle, “You may be able to figure it out. I suspect Phineas Nigelus wasn’t the only portrait Dumbledore sent off, the night you were in his office?”

Harry shook his head and furrowed his brow for a moment, trying to remember the names and what was said, “Everard and Dilys. Dilys was the one from St Mungo’s. And Everard couldn’t see Arthur, had to say he heard something from downstairs so there must not be portraits wherever the attack happened.  Everard said he ran along to… Elfrida Cragg’s portrait to see Arthur as they left.”

“That’s the Ministry,” Sirius said, sitting back in the chair, “What did the hallway look like?”

Harry described it, explaining that the snake sensed things differently - something that the animagus and werewolf understood well. It had come through metal bars, slid across a dark stone floor, there was a single door at the end of the corridor which was what the snake seemed to be seeking out. During the dream, he added, he could tell that the hallway was lit with torches and the walls were made of rough stone.

As he described it, Remus simply looked utterly perplexed but Sirius was frowning and drumming his fingers on the table. “I think that’s the Department of Mysteries,” he muttered, looking over to Remus who just threw his hands up in a gesture that made clear he had no idea.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“Well, it’s a bit of a mystery,” Sirius said with a laugh, running a hand through his hair, “No one who doesn’t work there really knows - even the Minister of Magic. The people who work there are called Unspeakables because they’re held to such strict confidentiality,” he frowned again, bouncing his knee, “I know they keep time turners there, hate to think what he could do with those… I think they study love, but Voldy won’t care about that… think there’s something about death, might be up his alley…"

"I never knew what it looked like but da told me a bit about it," Remus mused, "They're also studying space, can't imagine he cares about that, and also the mind. I suppose he could do damage but he's already so skilled at legilimency and occlumency. Then there's the prophecies…"

"Oh, Merlin, this had better not be about that goddamned prophecy!” Sirius barked.

“What prophecy?” Harry asked.

Remus tilted his head to the side, “Is this related to why the Potters and Longbottoms had to go into hiding? I’ve always wondered about that.”

Sirius gave a broken laugh at the question, burying his head in his hands for a moment, “Godric we really didn’t trust you at all…” he took a shuddery breath and shook his head, looking at Harry, “I never heard the actual thing. A kid born at the end of July of that year, likely to an Order member, would have the power to vanquish Voldemort. And… there was something how Voldemort would ‘mark’ them, which James got especially obsessed with - hated the idea that he’d force the dark mark on a baby, or find a way to groom you into a death eater,” Sirius grimaced, “Probably meant the scar, not that we could have known back then. Dumbledore was told the prophecy, he’d be the one to ask.”

“You said the Longbottoms,” Harry said quietly, looking over at Remus, “Neville’s family went into hiding as well?” Both of his godfathers nodded and Harry frowned, “Do you know why Voldemort attacked my parents instead of his?”

“For one thing,” Sirius said bitterly, “We served them up on a silver platter by trusting that rat.”

“Not that it made a tremendous difference for the poor boy,” Remus added grimly, “Given what Bellatrix did to them as soon as they came out of hiding…”

Silence fell after that statement and Harry stared off into space while he imagined how much different his life could have been. For some reason he had always thought his parents were specifically targeted, just them. Even after finding out about their friend’s betrayal, he had imagined that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort attacked them.

Maybe that wasn’t true, maybe Voldemort just took the easier option. He rubbed the scar on his forehead, briefly wishing that Voldemort had chosen Neville - who grew up without his parents either way - then felt sick with himself for the thought.

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Did you tell Pettigrew about the prophecy?” Remus asked quietly.

Sirius glowered, closing his eyes and thinking back. He rapped his knuckles against the table before finally shaking his head, “My memory’s not the greatest, and it’s possible James told him when I wasn’t there - but I only ever remember talking about it with James and Lily. I don’t think we told him any details.”

Remus gave a pleased smile then coughed lightly and went back to a more serious expression, “I’d assume that Voldemort believes - whether or not it’s true - there’s details in the prophecy that impact his ability to succeed this time,” Remus chewed his lip for a moment, “Da heard that only people the prophecy is about can take it - which is a ridiculous system - if that’s right then he may be trying to lure you, specifically, there, Harry.”

“So… if I just don’t go to the Department of Mysteries, then as long as Voldemort isn’t keen to waltz into the Ministry of Magic to pick up a prophecy then he’s thwarted?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“Precisely. Just like how, if you’d just followed the rules and not gone through those trials in first year - Quirrell had no hope of obtaining the Philosopher’s Stone,” Remus agreed, lifting his teacup to his lips to hide the smile.

Harry groaned, rolling his eyes, “I was 11…”

“Yes, Moony, he’s a far more mature 15,” Sirius chuckled. Then he grimaced again, “Merlin, I hope we’re missing something. If it’s true that just not letting Harry go is all that needs to happen, then there’s no need to risk anyone’s bloody lives sitting in front of a door. Half the Order is dead on their feet from sleep exhaustion.”

“Are you alright with us telling Dumbledore what you’ve shared here, Harry? At least that you’ve dreamt about the corridor again? It may help if he knows his suspicions are correct,” Remus asked.

Harry blinked at him. First, he had a flare of irritation that they just took it for granted Dumbledore wouldn’t speak to Harry himself. Then, he felt somewhat surprised he was being given the option. He hadn’t considered that any of the adults in his life wouldn’t just tell Dumbledore anything about Harry they felt he needed to know.

“Oh, er, yeh. That’s fine,” he said uncomfortably, finally picking up a piece of toast off his plate.

Chapter Text

Christmas day itself was strange. Upon waking up he discovered that the Hogwarts tradition of placing presents at the end of the bed was, apparently, a wix thing. Ron had already half opened all of his presents and Harry’s were piled there.

Briefly he remembered years of hearing Dudley rush downstairs to excitedly find a pile under the tree, his parents eagerly following after to share in his joy. Something in Harry’s stomach squirmed at not having this for himself, but he chided himself for being ungrateful. 

After opening the gifts, and trying to keep a mental list of who to thank for what, everyone came together for breakfast. They would be visiting Arthur in the hospital again, so Tonks and Moody joined them. It was much more of the communal festivity that Harry had hoped for.

The trip to the hospital was even easier, few people traveled on Christmas Day, and the hospital was decorated for the holiday. Arthur was looking even better, too. 

Remus had managed to put together something for Lewis - 6 months' supply of wolfsbane and a watch that showed the moon phase and date as well as the time - and delivered it to him before settling in for another chat after first greeting Arthur. 

It was all quite lovely. Until Molly noticed that her husband's bandages had been changed early and discovered her husband had been working with a trainee healer, dabbling in muggle remedies. The Weasley children, Harry, and Hermione all politely made their way out of the ward as this reality sank in and Mrs Weasley began making her opinion known.

They had ended up getting somewhat lost in their wandering, stumbling upon a ward that hosted long term stays. It was jarring, albeit not unexpected, to see Gilderoy Lockhart there. He had lost his memories in a backfired attempt to obliviate Ron and Harry and leave Ginny to die in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry felt no remorse about his current condition.

What they absolutely did not expect was to run into a schoolmate.

Neville Longbottom was visiting his parents. Harry had seen the trial following the crimes against Neville’s parents in Dumbledore’s pensieve, and knew a bit about what had happened to them. This had happened after Voldemort had been defeated, as well. After the Longbottoms had left hiding, believing they were safe. 

It was different seeing it. Harry felt his mouth go dry, and he wished Remus had come with them. Maybe he would know what to say. 

Instead it was just palpably uncomfortable. Neville was clearly embarrassed and also defiant. Ron and Hermione didn't seem to know how to react any better than Harry did.

—

After Christmas, the mood in the house settled. It wasn't in a bad way. The excitement had passed and everyone seemed more comfortable. The twins grabbed Remus or Sirius for private talks whenever they could, amazed by the revelation that they were part of The Marauders and keen to pick their brains. Mrs Weasley pursed her lips at this, but it did keep things calmer when the twins weren't making a ruckus in other ways. 

Sirius had dug out a few books on becoming an animagus from the family library, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent time pouring over. Ginny had caught them, rolled her eyes at their attempts to hide it, and became just as invested. Ron began taking it notably more seriously after this, meticulously making a list of every warning and safety concern. Hermione was quite impressed.

There weren't as many Order meetings as there had been during the summer. Like over the summer, once a week they were able to travel by portkey to somewhere in the middle of nowhere. They had snowball fights, built snowmen, skated on a frozen lake, and drank hot chocolate and cider that had been enchanted to never get cold. 

It was amazing, and Harry found himself dreading the return to Hogwarts. He still faced jeers, looks, and whispering from those who believed the Daily Prophet's lies. Umbridge would likely be even worse, furious that Harry and the Weasleys had disappeared under her nose. The Quidditch team was still short a Seeker. He also felt a bit guilty about leaving his godfathers. With the mirror taken by Umbridge, they would be staying at No 12 Grimmauld place so Harry could floo them if something urgent happened. Which didn't seem fair, even if they both insisted it was fine. The house was at least more homely now.

The DA meetings were the only thing that he was looking forward to about going back to Hogwarts. He wouldn't let everyone down, not when they'd been making so much progress.

Only a few days before they had to go back to King's Cross Station, Harry and Ron were playing a game of exploding snap when Mrs Weasley poked her head in.

"Harry, dear, Professor Snape is here to see you. He's in the kitchen," she said with a slightly strained smile.

"Snape? What does he want?" Harry asked, alarmed, he wasn't even in the man’s class anymore.

"Professor Snape," she corrected kindly.

"He's not my professor," Harry pointed out, but he'd stood up to go and meet him.

When he reached the kitchen, he found Remus and Sirius already seated. Remus was at the head of the table, with Sirius and Snape on either side of him. Tea and biscuits were laid out, with Harry’s next to Sirius. Sirius and Snape were glaring daggers at each other, while Remus drank his tea. 

They all looked up when Harry came in, and he felt both relieved to not have to face Snape alone and even more concerned about what was going on.

"If you could close the door, please, Harry, then take a seat," Remus said pleasantly, gesturing towards the place that had been laid out for him. Sirius turned to give him a smile and Snape continued glaring straight ahead.

“I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," Snape said coldly.

"Yes, I've had that discussion with Albus already," Remus said, "No need to go back over it. You've expressed how tight your schedule is, Severus, best to get to it."

Snape shot him a withering glare before he returned his gaze to Harry, “The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.” 

“I’ve been studying it since August," Harry said simply, taking one of the biscuits. 

"Given the incident at the end of term, clearly you have not been studying it with a competent teacher," Snape sneered. Sirius made a jerky movement, and Remus placed a hand on his shoulder. Snape jeered at them, "On a short leash there, Black?"

"Remarkable observation skills, Sev, next you'll notice water is wet and the sky is blue," Remus said coolly and raised an eyebrow. Sirius snorted and Snape looked as though he had smelt something foul.

The hook-nosed man snapped his attention back to Harry, “You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?”

“Yes. Who’s going to be teaching me?” Harry asked warily.

“I am," Snape replied.

Harry felt as though someone had dumped cold water on him. He had finally gotten out of potions with Snape, now he was supposed to learn occlumency with him? It was uncomfortable enough when Remus would use legilimency for it, the thought of Snape digging around his head made him nauseous.

"Why can't Dumbledore do it?" Sirius asked tersely, his fists clenched on the table in front of him.

“It is the headmaster’s privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,” Snape said silkily, “I assure you I did not beg for the job. I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter, my office.”

"That will not be happening. Albus can give me a list of people he approves of for the lessons and I'll arrange it," Remus said firmly. 

"The headmaster has made his decision. It is not up for debate," Snape gritted out through bared teeth.

"I agree, I'm not debating. I am informing that you will not be doing Occlumency lessons with Harry," Remus replied, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"I have Dumbledore’s trust," Snape pointed out.

“I’ve warned you, Snivellus,” Sirius snarled, leaning forwards, “I don’t care if Dumbledore thinks you’ve reformed - I know better.”

“Oh, but why don’t you tell him so?” whispered Snape, “Afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who can’t even hide properly? Did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a station platform…”

Confusion and a hint of fear crossed over Sirius’s face before he realized what Snape was talking about and he laughed, sitting back in his seat, “Goodness, your Bridge Club must be low on gossip if that’s what you’re scraping the barrel for. ‘Sirius Black saw his godson off to school’, is Voldemort really happy with that kind of intel?”

Snape’s eyes burned with rage, “Do not speak his name-”

“Enough you two,” Remus said firmly, "This is not about whether Severus can be trusted as an Order member, or whether it’s polite to use Voldemort’s chosen name in front of a Death Eater,” Snape’s fingers flexed menacingly,  “It's about whether he can be trusted with Harry’s emotional well-being.”

“Surely you have noticed that Potter is very much like his father?” Snape asked

“Yes, I have," Sirius said proudly.

“Well then, you’ll know he’s so arrogant that criticism bounces off of him," Severus purred.

Sirius stood up violently at that, his eyes flashing, and Snape smirked. Remus simply rolled his eyes and placed a firm hand on Sirius’s arm, guiding him back down.

"This is my point, Severus. Harry is not James. He is an orphan who has spent over a decade in an abusive home, and you're using him as a punching bag for a grudge against a man who has been dead since 1981," Remus pointed out, "You have been Harry’s teacher for four and a half years and the thought of private lessons with you makes him go pale - you are not fit to do Occlumency lessons with Harry."

“Are you questioning my teaching methods, Lupin? Perhaps if you’d managed more than one year-” 

“As I recall, you insisted that you do not have ‘unlimited leisure time’ and this would be a short meeting. The subject of whether or not you will cover Occlumency lessons is concluded. Have a pleasant journey back to Scotland,” Remus said, standing up and gesturing for Snape to leave the room. 

Snape stood up, bracing his hands on the table and glowering at Remus, “I will not be dismissed by a -”

“Actually, you will,” Sirius interrupted, arms crossed and leaning back in his chair casually, “You’re a guest in our home, after all, so kindly fuck off already before I have Kreacher force you out.”

Harry brought his teacup to his lips and hoped Snape hadn’t managed to see the giant grin he was attempting to hide. The man left the room with a swish of his cloak and moments later Walburga’s portrait began screeching again, clearly he had set it off on purpose. Sirius rolled his eyes and set a muffliato on the room to block off the noise.

Remus went to the fridge and returned with three bottles of butterbeer before rather collapsing back into his chair and resting his head in his hands, “Merlin, that slimy git…”

“If it’s too much trouble - I can handle doing Occlumency with Snape,” Harry said quietly, “I’ve already been learning, right?”

Sirius shook his head, “It’s not too much trouble,” he said firmly, looking directly in Harry’s eyes, “That jab he made about your dad - like Moony said, it’s exactly why he doesn’t deserve an excuse to go rooting around in your head.”

“Do you trust him? Not necessarily with your life - but do you trust him to do this without bullying you or otherwise making you miserable?” Remus asked, looking over at him.

Harry bit his lip, thinking about every experience he’d had with Snape. The man had tried to save his life in first year, with the counter curse. He seemed to be on the Order’s side, Dumbledore probably wouldn’t trust him without good reason. Snape probably wouldn’t kill him, that he believed. 

Could Snape go an entire conversation without making a nasty remark towards Harry? No, that had never happened once.

He shook his head.

“Listen - if he antagonizes you through it, it could undo all of the progress we’ve made and make you even more vulnerable to legilimency,” Remus explained kindly, then pressed his lips together into a thin line and exchanged a look with Sirius, “Also… frankly, the timing is too suspicious. Voldemort risks his beloved snake by sending it into the ministry on a night that Arthur Weasley, a man you care deeply about, is guarding the door? Then Snape is using it as an excuse to dig more deeply into your mind? It’s rather convenient.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “You don’t trust him.”

“I will not take a stand either way on the matter,” Remus said bitterly, “Just know that Sirius’s mistake, all those years ago, was not suspecting me - his mistake was trusting someone he should have doubted.  It is not enough to have no proof Snape is on Voldemort’s side - he must be above any suspicion.”

“We’re not going to lose you because someone trusted the wrong person,” Sirius said with a growl, looking away.

“Okay,” Harry nodded, “Then what’s the plan?”

Remus sighed and leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table, “I don’t disagree that it’s a good idea to have another teacher - perhaps someone with more experience. Dumbledore will likely prefer an Order member.”

“Moody would probably be my first choice,” Sirius suggested, “Shacklebolt as well, he’s in a high position in the Ministry and I don’t think anyone’s suspected him. The issue is they can’t go into the school each week.”

“No… My da could do it. I think he’s retired. Harry'd have to sneak to Hogsmeade but that's easy sorted.”

“He’s finally accepted you’re a werewolf?” Sirius asked, surprised.

Remus waved his hand, “He hasn’t changed, but Harry isn’t a werewolf so it hardly matters.”

“I don’t want to learn from someone who thinks there’s something wrong with you,” Harry said vehemently. Sirius flashed him a grin and Remus’s cheeks turned pink but he looked away.

“Then Snape’s definitely out,” Sirius chuckled, “Andy used to be dead good, probably still is - I wonder if she taught Tonks? Moody trained Tonks as well, those two could be the best choice.”

“Tonks can disguise themself as a student pretty easily,” Harry pointed out.

“And Merlin help anyone who questions why Andromeda Black Tonks is anywhere,” Sirius smirked. 

“Wait - the vision - it saved Arthur’s life! Should I be doing something that could stop it?” Harry asked, sitting bolt upright and looking at both of them urgently.

“If he didn’t already realize you could see such things - he’ll know now and be more guarded,” Sirius pointed out, shaking his head.

“He can use it to his advantage,” Remus added, “I’m already a bit suspicious that’s what happened here. If he didn’t already know - I promise you, he will be figuring out how to use this to manipulate you.”

Sirius nodded grimly, “Before that dream - did you have any awareness of or interest in going to the Ministry of Magic?”

“No,” Harry admitted, “But I still wouldn’t!”

“Yes, but the idea of the Department of Mysteries, the idea that there might be something there is now in your head - and do not put it beyond Voldemort to find a way to keep needling at it until he finds a way to get you to do what he wants,” Sirius said firmly.

When Harry finally made his way back to Ron, he found he was no longer in the mood for card games.

—

The Hogwarts Express was set to leave on the Saturday before classes started, and the day before Remus had disappeared some time in the afternoon - making vague references about London and asking if anyone needed anything from Diagon Alley. With a list of a few spare school supplies - predominantly parchment, quills, and ink - he bundled himself up and left.

This was not particularly noteworthy. No one batted an eye, and the teenagers were all quite busy trying to track down all of their belongings. There were a few squabbles between the Weasleys over whose books and clothes were whose. Every time Harry walked into a room that Sirius was in, he caught his godfather looking gloomy - an expression which was immediately replaced with increasingly less believable grins. Harry wasn’t feeling any better about saying goodbye to him, either.

At a certain point, Harry and Ron had stopped trying to differentiate their belongings and focused instead on getting everything into their trunks. They shared a dormitory - figuring out whose was whose could wait.  Although even that barely mattered for most things, they spent so much time borrowing things from each other. 

As they were discussing the latest game the Chudley Cannons had played in, there was a knock on the door. Harry and Ron both looked up to see Remus leaning in, holding up a broomstick. 

Harry’s eyes went wide as he recognized his Firebolt and he lept up, taking it in his hands and running over every inch of it. It wasn’t a new broomstick, he could feel where his hands had left grooves in the wood over time, smell the polish he used, it was his.  He looked up at Remus, “You didn’t have to…”

“Remarkably, I didn’t. Professor McGonnagall felt that Dolores had crossed the line by permanently confiscating your broomstick and alerted Ms Juma herself. I, of course, gave my blessing for her to pursue it. Given what that broomstick was worth, it was a considerably more egregious move than confiscating a Zonko’s gag,” he replied easily, his cheeks pink again, “You can leave it here if you like, I would suggest caution about flying on the school grounds given what’s happening.”

Harry wrapped Remus in a hug, which the man initially stiffened into in surprise before returning it. 

“I know exactly what I’m going to do with this,” Harry insisted with a grin, rushing off to the room Ginny and Hermione were sharing.  

It came as no surprise that Hermione’s trunk was already immaculately packed and she had now moved onto helping Ginny sort everything. The two were laughing together, with some magazine open on the bed that they kept going back to in between packing.  

Harry knocked on the doorframe to get their attention, nearly bouncing with excitement as he looked over at Ginny, “Remus got my broom back!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Harry,” Ginny said with a grin, though her face fell, “You’re still banned though, aren’t you?”

“Yes - but that’s alright, it means you can use it!” Harry pointed out, holding it out to her. 

Ginny stared at him in disbelief, then looked down at the broomstick. She walked over and very gingerly reached a hand out to touch it, as if she couldn’t believe she had the opportunity. Harry bit his cheek, hoping that he hadn’t crossed any lines. The disparity between the Weasley’s poverty and his own, thanks to his parents, wealth had sometimes caused trouble between Ron and Harry. Sometimes he stuck his foot in it without even realizing.

“Well, I’m sure to get the spot now,” she said with a small laugh, her eyes still wide with awe as she slowly gripped it. She looked up at him uncertainly and he gave her a big grin and she finally took it properly, holding it to her chest as if it were the most precious thing she’d ever had.

“Erm, just one thing - if Ron asks to use it, please let him,” Harry added sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head, “I hope he won’t get upset I’m letting you borrow it - I mean, he has his own broom…”

“Don’t worry, I know how to handle my brothers,” Ginny assured him brightly, “Will you help me with the upkeep? I think I’d be too terrified of wrecking it to be able to trim the tail twigs.”

“‘Course, it’s still mine after all. If I can’t be the one flying her, at least she’ll still be used for the Gryffindor team, yeah?” Harry said, somehow feeling even more pleased to be able to do this.

Chapter Text

The first day of classes for the term had not gone terribly. Again he had Umbridge at the end of the day, and as he expected she was working extra hard to wheedle him. She was openly insulting him in front of the class to the point that even a few Slytherins had sent him sympathetic looks, and kept calling on him to give answers and responses. In the first term, only Hermione had ever dared raise her hand, but by the end of the lesson there were four or five people attempting to, just to distract her from her tirade against Harry. She ignored them.

It felt like an absolute miracle that he got through the lesson without warranting a detention. As they went to the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione and Ron started a cheerful conversation to try and distract him from what he’d just gone through. He was barely able to make grunts of agreement as they did, his hands shaking with rage.

As dinner wore down, a Hufflepuff boy plonked himself in the seat next to Harry, stealing a yorkshire pudding off his plate. Harry blinked in surprise, almost certain it was Tonks - but he looked different from last time. His skin was darker, his hair a shiny black that bounced in tight corkscrews around his head. The face was a similar shape, though, and again his tie was undone. 

“Wotcher, Haz, ready for the study session tonight?” he asked with a wink, his eyes flashing violet for a moment before returning to their previous dark brown.

“Yeah, of course, wouldn’t miss it,” he replied with a soft laugh, shaking his head and swatting Tonks’s hand when he went to steal something else off Harry’s plate. Ron and Hermione boggled at them from across the table.

“Who’s this?” Ron asked boldly, frowning at the newcomer.

Harry looked at them for a moment, glanced around to realize this really was not an appropriate place to explain that they were eating dinner with an undercover Order member who was going to be giving Harry secret lessons. A ridiculous idea came to him and he grinned, looking Ron right in the eye, “He’s my boyfriend.”

Next to him, Tonks chuckled softly then rested an elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, watching Harry with an amused grin. Ron went slightly pale and Hermione elbowed him under the table.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us, then?” Hermione said, running a hand over her hair and managing a warm smile.

“Raven Darkholme,” Harry explained and Tonks gave a small wave.

“I know you’re Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger,” Tonks said with a wink, “Your reputations precede you.”

They both went slightly pink, then Hermione was muttering an excuse to leave and dragging Ron by the arm.

“We should catch up to them - see if they want to join us,” Tonks said, watching them go.

“Really?” Harry asked brightly, “Remus never - “

“Remus Lupin is ten times more paranoid than Mad-Eye,” Tonks pointed out with an eye roll, “I can’t think of a better way to make sure you master Occlumency than having Hermione learn it as well.”

It didn’t take long to find them, as the two were huddled not far from the Great Hall talking animatedly in whispers.  They both went pink again when they saw Harry, who held up his hands as he walked over to them.

“Sorry - it was a joke, sort of,” he explained, waving Tonks over. He lowered his voice, “This is Tonks - but I couldn’t say that.”

To prove the point, Tonks did the trick of turning their nose into a pig’s snout then back, grinning at them. Hermione frowned, “Why Hufflepuff? Wouldn’t Gryffindor be easier?”

“Excuse you!” Tonks said, placing his hands on his hips, “I am a Hufflepuff.” 

“Oh!” she gasped, “I didn’t-”

“But why a boy?” Ron asked, tilting his head to one side. Hermione elbowed him and hissed ‘Ronald'.

Tonks shrugged, shifting slightly, “Just feel like it sometimes - that a problem?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said sharply, glaring at Ron who grumbled something under his breath at her about how he was just asking.

“I’m here to teach Harry Occlumency,” he explained, brightening again, “Want to join us? It’s dead useful.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance. Harry had explained what it was after Snape had visited at the end of the winter holiday, but had assumed they wouldn’t be involved. Admittedly, if Snape had been the teacher they would likely have politely declined. A few hours with Tonks was always a good time, though, so they both smiled and agreed eagerly. 

—

They made their way to an empty classroom. Tonks laid out some Charms books and parchment, just in case anyone came in, then set up wards on the door that would ensure no one did. They went over the basics of Occlumency again, then Tonks had Harry talk his friends through the process while Tonks used legilimency on them. Harry was surprised by this, but Tonks insisted that teaching others was the best way to solidify knowledge, while also letting Tonks see what Harry knew. They had a few suggestions and tweaks.

After about half an hour, Tonks rolled up his sleeves and put his hands on his hips, “Alright - I’ve got to ask now. Ron, Hermione? Do you think you’re willing to commit to learning this?” The two looked at each other, and then at Harry, before nodding firmly. “Good. The only way you three are going to be able to practice this is if you can also do legilimency - and it’s a skill you should learn anyways.”

“That’s really advanced,” Hermione said, eyes wide, “They don’t even teach it to seventh years.”

“Are you sure we need to? Remus and Sirius haven’t even suggested it,” Harry added doubtfully.

Tonks waved them both off, “Remus hates using it and Sirius is rubbish at it,” he shook his head, “If you three are even moderately capable of it, you can use it to communicate without anyone knowing - which can save your lives in a pinch.”

“I don’t like the idea of being able to see inside people’s heads,” Ron said warily, taking a step backwards, “Doesn’t seem right.”

“You choose when to use it,” Harry pointed out gently, “I trust both of you to only use it when I agree to - and I’d do the same.”

“I will warn you - the temptation to misuse it can be pretty big at first,” he chuckled, “Then you’ll find out something you desperately wish you didn’t know and that urge will be well squashed.”

Hermione bit her lip, “It does seem awfully risky… but Tonks isn’t wrong about how useful it would be. You are being targeted by Voldemort, Harry, if this will help keep you safe then it’s worth doing.”

“You two aren’t fully safe, either, everyone knows how close you are to Harry which can put a target on your backs as well,” Tonks pointed out grimly.  Both Hermione and Ron went pale before nodding.

—

Early into the term, the Daily Prophet arrived with somber news. There had been a mass break out at Azkaban. Sirius was being blamed, of course, which had Harry growling. Hermione gave him a reproachful look and gestured down the table with a small nod. Not far from them, Neville was sat with the newspaper in his hands. They were balled into fists around it, crinkling the paper and his knuckles white. His whole body was shaking.

Bellatrix Lestrange, who had tortured his parents into insanity, was among those who had escaped.

The helpless feeling from the hospital returned. Ginny had been sitting next to him and had a hand on his shoulder, her face grim. Harry shared a look with his friends and moved over. Hermione sat on Neville’s other side, placing a hand on his shoulder as well, and Ron and Harry sat across from him, nodding grimly at the paper. Neville looked between the three of them in surprise. Initially he had the same uncomfortable, defiant look he had at the hospital. Then it registered they were there to support him and he just nodded back, crumpling the paper and aggressively smashing it into a ball before going back to his breakfast.

—

Staying at Grimmauld place could have been worse. Sirius left the decorations up despite it being well past the point they ought to come down. He had expected Remus to tear it down as soon as possible, given that the other man got slightly twitchy with overwhelm and spent most of his time curled up with a book in the sitting room that Sirius had spared for him. To his surprise, it was Remus’s suggestion to leave it. The festive cheer still made Sirius smile, it was worth having up.

Kreacher had seemed to come to an understanding where they both stayed out of each other's way. Sirius didn't demand anything of the elf, the elf didn't insult Sirius and his loved ones to his face. Occasionally they'd find themselves in the same room without either feeling the need to storm out - just quietly coexisting. 

The first week, not long after the full moon, Remus had to leave on Order missions. Dumbledore had initially ordered this for the winter holiday - which Remus had ultimately refused, and soon realized it had been Dumbledore’s attempt to force Harry into Occlumency with Snape without Remus’s knowledge. Suffice to say, the relations between the two men were tense. 

Being on his own at Grimmauld Place had been his nightmare, but Sirius managed. He received Order members reporting back from missions, Tonks in particular visited, and Andromeda and Ted had been given the ability to visit as well. The Order was not aware of this, and the Tonkses were quite keen to keep it that way.

Sirius cooked, combed through the family library for anything that might be useful, listened to Quidditch matches on the radio. He even finally took down the absolutely ridiculous posters from his teen years and decorated his bedroom as if an adult were living in it. Specifically as if two adults were living in it, taking extra care to ensure it would suit Remus just as well. 

The news of the breakout had soured his mood. The sense of uselessness reared, and rage that he was being blamed for this. Damn Ministry, refusing to read the writing on the wall and continuing to throw him under the bus. It would make it even more difficult to clear his name if they kept piling on more and more charges against him. 

He didn't fancy his chances of sleeping that night, stretching out in front of a fireplace as Padfoot and dozing was the best he could manage. 

In the wee hours of the morning, he was jerked out of this by the sound of his mother's screeching. He returned to his human form and bolted downstairs, wand at the ready. No one outside the Order could come in, he wasn't afraid for himself, but he hadn't expected anyone. An Order member needing sudden sanctuary was a bad thing. 

He reached the top of the staircase that led to the portrait and front door, and froze for a moment to see Tonks - well, he assumed it was Tonks, his little cousin was dressed in muggle attire and with chestnut hair and a face that he'd never seen them in - screaming back at the portrait and trying to close the damn drapes over it.

Sirius shook himself and rushed over, placing a hand on Tonks’s shoulder. His cousin looked rough. Bloodshot eyes, smudged eyeliner, skin tinged faintly green, wobbling slightly and wincing. They smelled like smoke and a distillery. He got the portrait silenced as quickly as possible before helping them into the kitchen.

"Fuck - why're you here?" they asked, roughly running a hand over their face, "Y'don'..."

"I'll explain later," he said gently, magicing up a glass of water and placing it into the metamorphmagus's hands, "Drink this."

"Were'n s'pose'ta be anyone," Tonks muttered, managing to get the drink down. 

"Glad I was," Sirius replied, "I've been in your shoes, coz, better to have someone help."

Tonks wrinkled their nose, "Y'won' tell?"

"Nothing to tell," he replied simply, "It's war. Sometimes you gotta," he just gestured to them. 

Maybe it wasn't the healthiest response. Someone more responsible might have handled it better. But Remus wasn't here, and it wasn't like Remus hadn't had his share of drunken nights during the first war. Sirius was just glad Tonks made sure to end up somewhere safe. 

He got some food into his cousin's belly, another glass of water, and a potion to help reduce the hangover. During the first war he had turned heavily to alcohol to cope, so he had the stash of potions on hand just in case he went on another bender. Which had happened once or twice on days he was alone. Not nearly as bad as it had been. 

Then he got his cousin to bed. Tonks slept in late and tried to slink out without being noticed, which Sirius had fully anticipated. He cut them off with insistence of anti-hangover potions and breakfast and a shower. Not necessarily in that order. 

Tonks ended up sat at the kitchen table in Sirius’s clothes, in a larger form than usual to fit comfortably in them. Their hair was black and the family resemblance was more obvious than usual. They looked unsettlingly like Regulus.

"I didn't mean to wake you last night," Tonks mumbled once they were feeling more human, "This place has always been empty."

"You've come here before?" Sirius asked softly, "Like you did last night?"

With a nod, Tonks squeezed their eyes shut and their face flushed red, "Not all the time. Sometimes it just - it just gets too much and I'll go to a muggle bar where no one knows anything about any of this bullshit and I just… let off some steam."

"That's okay," Sirius said and Tonks looked at him with wide eyes. He just shrugged, "I was about your age in the first war. Been there. Hell, if I could safely leave the house I'd probably have done it a few times over the last year. War is…" he just shook his head, "Sometimes you need to let go."

"Yeah," they said quietly, burying their face in their hands, "Everyone else in the Order - they survived the first war and they just seem so confident and like they're handling it so well and some days I think I'm falling apart and then I hate myself for not being better."

"Hey, hey, kid, that's enough of that," Sirius said, leaning over to wrap an arm around their shoulder, "We were all fucking trainwrecks during the first war. I know you're an adult and you feel so old but, Tonks, you are so young. You're not gonna cope the way 40 year old veterans can. You're just not."

Tonks sniffed slightly and laughed bitterly, "That's what mum says. That I don't realize how young I am," they slumped down in the chair, "I guess she was right."

Sirius nodded, "It's not a bad thing, okay? And, listen, I would so much rather you come here and wake me up at 3am if it means you're safe. Is there anything I can do to make sure you come here next time as well?"

"Geez, when did you become responsible?" Tonks asked with an eye roll, "If it's that important to you - I will. Just tell me why you're here."

"Ugh, that damn toad woman. We had two way mirrors Harry could contact us with, and she's stolen his. So we're here since it's connected to the floo and in an emergency he can call if he needs to," Sirius explained with a huff and a grimace.

"Dad insists the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed so at least she'll be gone by next year," Tonks pointed out.

"Can only hope you're right, munchkin," Sirius sighed and Tonks punched his shoulder at the nickname. 

It wasn't the last time Tonks showed up like that, although it happened pretty rarely. Sirius gave Remus a small warning and next time Remus was the first one to meet them. Sirius had been nervous Remus would show disappointment, but he took it in stride and shared his own stories while nursing Tonks through the hangover. Most of them happened after the war, culminating in a muggle 12 step program when Remus had lost track of the moon cycle and nearly transformed in the middle of muggle London.

Tonks was notably more at ease around them after this, relieved to genuinely not be judged.

"Do you think I need to quit?" they'd asked Remus quietly before leaving that afternoon.

"I think…" he said, pressing his lips together, "Are you showing up to work drunk?"

"No!"

"Are you missing work, or Order business, to get drunk?"

"No!" 

"Have you done anything while drunk that was proper dangerous - like," he blushed slightly but continued the question, "You haven't gone home with someone you wouldn't have? Or gotten into a fight?"

"NO! For fucks sake, Lupin, what do you take me for?" Tonks snarled.

"Had to check," he said, holding up his hands, "There was a time my answer to all those questions was 'yes'." Tonks’s eyes went wide at that. "If you want to quit, I'll help you. But you're 22. Partying and drunken nights are normal. I think you're okay."

Tonks huffed out a breath and nodded, "Okay… thank you… It got really bad for you, didn't it?"

"It did," he agreed softly, "You've got a lot of people in your life who care about you to help make sure it doesn't get like that. When it got bad for me, I was on my own. You're gonna be okay."

Chapter Text

Tonks was not wrong that including Hermione in the process guaranteed Harry would spend more time practicing. By the end of the week, Hermione had created time tables for all three of them in preparation for the OWLs. Ron's schedule allowed for Quidditch practice, Harry got extra time to plan DA lessons, and Hermione’s accounted for her bigger workload and the other clubs she was part of. Extracurricular activities looked good on applications, she had insisted that year while signing herself up.

Whenever they had a block to be able to study alone together, they spent the first 15 minutes taking turns practicing legilimency and occlumency. 

After a few weeks of this, Harry’s dreams of the corridor and door were fading.  His scar seemed to hurt less often. The practice of managing his emotions continued making it easier to remain passive while Umbridge continued her campaign to goad him into breaking. He began trying to find a way to speak with Dumbledore as well - asking Professor McGonnagall, Tonks, and his godfathers to ask the man to find even ten damn minutes. They all warned him about Umbridge and the Ministry and not to take it into his own hands, yet another chance to practice managing his anger.

As he had hoped, Ginny made Gryffindor Seeker. Every Weasley in school was now on the team, leading to more than a few jokes in the common room that they ought to just rename it the Weasley Team. After hearing the news, Charlie sent a howler that crowed gleefully at his younger siblings’ accomplishments for the entire Great Hall to hear.

None of this improved Ron’s confidence, unfortunately, and his ability to play was not getting better, either. Angelina Johnson had hugged Harry after the Seeker try outs, thanking him profusely for lending Ginny his broom - “We need all the help we can get,” she had said grimly.

In the lead up to the Gryffindor - Hufflepuff match, the practices ramped up so excessively that Ron had to take a break from occlumency practice - even Hermione agreed with this - and it was nearly impossible to schedule DA meetings. The entire house did their best to rally around Ron and Ginny, who were being horribly targeted by the Slytherins, but the anxiety was palpable. 

Ron still did miserably, but Ginny proved her mettle. She managed to grab the snitch out from under the Hufflepuff Seeker’s nose right before the points got too dire, winning the match 240 to 230. 

Rather than celebrate, Harry nicked some food from the party and he and Hermione hung out with Ron in the dormitory - trying to help him feel better. 

—

The DA sessions were going so well that Harry began working on patronuses with them. He had always been slightly nervous about this, remembering his own awkward start and still feeling embarrassed by how much attention he'd received that year for being able to cast a corporeal patronus.

The entire group was excited, though. Discussion about whose patronus would be what became so popular that it threatened to reveal the secret group to the entire school. 

What had most worried him, though, was coaching them through finding happy enough memories. It felt so personal and private. When it had just been Professor Lupin and himself in an otherwise empty classroom, Harry had felt more comfortable talking about these things. Now he had to ask his classmates to potentially be vulnerable in front of everyone else. 

Luna was the first to manage anything more than a small wisp. This was something of a surprise to Harry, he knew the girl had lost her mother and faced bullying at school. She just smiled at him and remarked that her parents had always helped her to look for the light in the darkness. Some of the other students looked disgruntled or pulled faces at this. 

The mutters about Luna cleared up when Ginny and then Neville were next to make notable progress - after being talked through it by Luna. A good handful of students began asking her advice after this, and taking it even if they did look quite perplexed.

Harry did his best to help the others. Hermione seemed to find it particularly frustrating, grumbling about 'Peter Pan nonsense' and struggling to focus on a happy thought. Her comfort zone was facts and objectivity. Ranking memories as 'happy enough' was too subjective and she kept falling back into mentally reciting how a patronus was cast instead of the memories.

The ability to focus so strongly on facts had been serving her well in occlumency, but was getting in the way of casting a patronus. 

At the end of the first patronus lesson, Harry shared his own miserable first try and also how he had ended up struggling more as time went on - he had pushed himself too hard. He assured his class they were all doing well and set homework - to make time to create more happy memories. 

This was met with some appreciative laughs.

—

One evening, Harry found himself feeling particularly drained. Given everything that was going on, this wasn’t a huge surprise. Hermione’s time tables tended to be aggressive and underestimate the amount of rest a human being needed. He made his way to bed early, falling asleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow.

…He found himself standing in a dark room, the walls draped in curtains, lit by candlelight. Before him was a man in black robes, kneeling on the cold stone floor. 

“You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?” he asked in a high, cold voice. 

“Yes, My Lord, yes… I used to work in the Department… Bode could never have taken it, Master, Bode would have known he could not… undoubtedly that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy’s Imperius Curse…” the man before him, Rookwood, croaked.

“You have done well to tell me this. Very well… I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems… We begin again, from now. You have Lord Vodemort’s gratitude, Rookwood…”

Harry jolted awake, realizing that he had been thrashing at his bedding again. He immediately pawed at his face.  His nose was still there, his lips the same as always, the scar still crossed his forehead, his hair still stuck up as unevenly as it ever did. He panted and Ron threw open the curtains around his bed, looking pale.

“Has anything happened? Has anyone been attacked?” Ron asked, looking alarmed. He was half dressed, apparently getting ready for bed when he’d heard Harry.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head furiously, “No… It… one of the Death Eaters, that escaped Azkaban, Rookwood,” he ran a hand over his face, his breathing finally steadying, “Voldemort was questioning him, had been working on bad information…”

“Harry,” Ron said quietly, “you’ve got to tell Dumbledore.”

Harry glowered at him, “I’ve been trying to speak with him. He’s avoiding me - am I supposed to send him a bloody owl for Umbridge to intercept?”

Ron just went quiet. He shook his head and went back to getting changed into his pajamas.

—

The patronus lessons were going well. Everyone had produced a corporeal patronus at least once by the end of their last meeting. For the next lesson, he had a surprise.

The idea of the DA had always, ultimately, been about preparing to defend themselves in real life situations. Harry did the best that he could, but the reality was that a safe and well lit classroom full of classmates just was not the same environment.  He had them do dueling a few times, but he wanted them to get a safe, controlled glimpse at what it was like to defend themselves from real danger.

Harry smiled nervously as everyone filed into the room, his hand patting the matchbox in his pocket and his own stag patronus standing behind him.  Everyone looked curiously at the patronus, and a hush fell over the room faster than usual.

“When we first met in Hogsmeade,” Harry began, “We had discussed the importance of being prepared to defend ourselves in real life, from real danger. I have a way to give you all a taste of what that’s like.”

This brought on a reaction, murmurs ran across the room. People looked at him with expressions ranging from excitement to confusion to fear.  

“This is perfectly safe,” he assured them, “You may not know this, but when a bogart sees me - it takes the form of a dementor. Which means I can give you the experience of casting a patronus against a dementor - without ever being in harm’s way.”

More whispers, the expressions leaning far more towards curiosity. Harry started by insisting that anyone who didn’t feel ready to do this should head to the back of the room and practice something they’d covered already. Then he had them stand in a line and explained the safeguards in place. Harry would stay nearest to the bogart, to the side but ultimately between the others and the dementor. This would both let him step in and also assure it kept its shape.  His own patronus was already out and could step in the way if needed - and anyone could cause the bogart to change shape by casting ‘Ridikkulus’, which they had all covered in their DADA lessons.

At the end of the lesson, or if anything got out of hand, Harry would be able to re-capture it. 

Neville raised his hand, “Did Professor Lupin go over this with you? Is that how you got the bogart?”

Harry paused and bit his lip before nodding, “Yeh, he happened to have one and I let him know some friends and I wanted to practice patronuses on it. He went over the safety and made me practice capturing it, like, 20 times before he let me have the bogart.”

The entire room looked considerably more comfortable after hearing this, shuffling into line with a bit of pushing to get ahead, and Harry smiled.  

He released the bogart, which transformed into a dementor. The effects were immediate. The room went cold, there was the sound of some yelps and gasps from the students. Those closest to the front attempted to take a step back. They also gripped their wands with determination.

Harry called them up one at a time. It was much more difficult to cast a patronus against a dementor - and after the first failed attempts he worried that he had been expecting too much. Then the other students began shouting encouragement and rallying around each other. Almost no one succeeded in casting a full patronus on their first attempt, but everyone came close and a much greater number managed to cast corporeal patronuses than Harry had expected. 

It was gratifying to see the way they supported each other against a real challenge.

Then, Hermione shouted from the back of the room, “Harry! It’s Dobby! He says - Umbridge is coming!”

The room fell silent for a moment, the dementor even seemed unsettled by the sudden change of emotions, before Harry bellowed, “What are you waiting for?! RUN!"

Hermione and Ron rushed over to him as he defeated the bogart as quickly as possible, securing it back in its matchbox and shoving it deep in his pocket. 

—

When Harry finally made it back to the dormitory and found himself staring up at the canopy of his bed, the evening did not feel fully real. 

Dumbledore had fled Hogwarts. It was entirely Harry’s fault, as well, letting them name the bloody group “Dumbledore’s Army”. The man had not seemed terribly perturbed by this, admittedly. Harry wasn’t sure if it was better for Dumbledore to take the fall or not. He could only imagine what Fudge would try to do to him if Harry had been blamed, Dumbledore could at least look after himself.

This meant it was now basically impossible for Harry to speak with Dumbledore, though. Not that he had held out much hope that the man would be willing to. It was only about two months until the end of term, and the man had barely made eye contact with him since he returned from the graveyard.

It was hard to believe that just a few short hours ago his chest had felt so full of pride for his fellow classmates - and now he was once again feeling hollow. Not for the first time that term, he cursed Umbridge for stealing his mirror. He at least wanted to tell Remus how the DA lesson had gone, and how the students had only been willing to really trust Harry’s stunt after finding out Professor Lupin had given the green light.

He pulled out the cassette player and put in a Nirvana tape. It was going to be a long night.

—

Dumbledore’s flight became legend, and also led to changes that made the school year particularly miserable. Thankfully relatively little was left of it. 

Umbridge was placed as Headmistress. She instated an "Inquisitorial Squad'' of predominantly Slytherin students who had been given a truly unreasonable amount of authority. They could take house points with impunity and were also sent out to do Umbridge's dirty work - including reading over owl post before allowing it to be passed on and also spying on students. They paid particularly close attention to everyone who had been part of the DA, which could no longer safely meet.

With this atmosphere, the final Quidditch game of the year approached, Gryffindor v Ravenclaw. If Gryffindor won, they'd take the House Cup. 

Ginny had proven herself to be a solid seeker. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were going to be focused on keeping the quaffle solidly in Gryffindor hands - even if it meant not scoring many goals themselves - to give Ginny the chance to catch the snitch without Hufflepuff racking up points. Fred and George had always been great beaters, and were privately focusing on trying to prevent the quaffle from getting anywhere near the goal posts.

Ron was still turning slightly green at the mention of Quidditch. 

The rest of the team focused on making up for his shortcomings, and the entire house was focused intently on the match. After the way Umbridge had targeted their house for the entire year, and now had power to do worse, they needed the win.

Harry was almost relieved when Hagrid dragged them away before the start of the match. With the fervor Gryffindor had managed to whip itself into, it would have been painful to watch Ron struggling so much. He and Hermione had shared a look and gone with him. Then another, more concerned look when they were led into the Forbidden Forest. The series of increasingly concerned looks became joined by increasingly concerned questions, which Hagrid answered quite cagily before finally reaching their destination.

A giant. Hagrid had brought a giant home with him, and had been keeping him restrained in the heart of the Forbidden Forest while trying to teach him manners. The giant, Grawp, was apparently his half brother and a runt as far as giants went. At real risk of being killed if Hagrid had left him behind.

Harry and Hermione did not want to see what a large giant looked like if Grawp was a runt.

Somehow they found themselves agreeing to help out with Grawp if (when) Umbridge finally threw Hagrid out. Considering how close to the end of term it was, there seemed very little they'd be able to do. They trudged back in dismal spirits, made all the more dismal by realizing the match had gone splendidly. Ron had finally come into his confidence and done a spectacular job. 

Hermione and Harry had missed every minute of it, though, instead returning with miserable news. They shared a final look, each feeling like absolute terrible friends. 

Chapter Text

Potions lessons with Slughorn were continuing to go quite well. So well that Harry sometimes worried Slughorn was going easy on him, failing to properly prepare him for the tests. When he studied with Ron and Hermione, though, he was relieved to see this wasn’t the case. There was a great deal of grumbling from Ron about how he was still stuck dealing with Snape, and how nice it must be to be able to buy your way out of problems. Hermione always shut this down quickly, but it still stung. 

Slughorn had always supplied certain restricted ingredients from his own stores but after a mishap involving a particularly tickly root powder and a sneeze knocking over both cauldrons, they found themselves short. 

Harry was handed a note and instructed to go and take what was listed from Snape’s stores. He rushed off to comply, Snape’s office and potions stores weren't far from the dungeon classroom they used. 

He ran into Snape, following Draco Malfoy, in the hallway. 

"Sir!" Harry shouted after him, holding the note out, "From Professor Slughorn."

Snape sneered as he took the paper, "Does that old fool need my help?" Harry simply looked owlishly at him as he read over the paper then snarled, "Wait in my office, Potter, I'm urgently needed by Umbridge."

He shoved the paper back into Harry’s hand and stormed off with a dramatic swish of his robes.

Harry walked into his office, tapping his hands against his legs as he thought about how long Snape might be gone. He never liked being in the potions master's office. It was dark, cold, and dreary. The fire never seemed to be lit and the shelves were covered in jars of foul looking substances and body parts. 

A shining light drew his attention, and he looked over to see a cabinet that had not been properly closed. Inside was a pensieve, a large stone basin full of a silvery, swirling liquid. Harry had seen one in Dumbledore’s office last year, when Dumbledore had shown him courtroom scenes of Death Eater trials. 

Curiosity welled inside him - what was Snape hiding? Could it be secrets related to the Department of Mysteries? At least some evidence of whether the man was trustworthy or not?

He would likely never get another opportunity like this and rushed over to look into the basin. He fell into it, swirling in the darkness before landing in the familiar space of the Great Hall. Only instead of the house tables, it was full of desks with students scribbling on parchment. 

Snape was sitting at the desk next to where Harry was standing, the paper on his desk labeled "DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS - ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL". 

The teenager was recognizable as Snape - the same hook nose, the same greasy hair - but it was jarring to see him so young. Harry’s age. His stomach gave a lurch, this was not the kind of memory he had expected. He was not likely to find out anything useful and this felt incredibly personal. 

Dumbledore had never taught him how to get out of the pensieve. He was trapped. 

Professor Flitwick was the one proctoring the test and Harry watched as he walked through the rows, collecting the tests. He passed a boy with strangely familiar, untidy black hair. Harry felt himself being pulled over, his eyes wide, walking ghost-like through the desks of the memory, stopping in front of the desk and gazing down at his own father.

Excitement exploded in his chest - he had only ever seen photos of his father as an adult. James looked so much like Harry. His nose was a bit different, his eyes of course were Hazel. His skin was also a bit darker than Harry’s, but still a very similar warm brown. Their faces were the same shape, and they had nearly identical glasses. That always baffled Harry, the sheer coincidence that the muggle optometrist Petunia brought him to as a child held such similar frames, and they were the ones Harry gravitated to. 

James had a necklace on and was holding a strange charm that was shaped somewhat like a hand, with an eye in the middle of it. He was running his left thumb over it, then slipped it under his shirt collar after Flitwick took his exam.

He ruffled his hair then turned around to grin at the boy behind him - unmistakably Sirius Black, who gave James the thumbs up. It was strange to see Sirius so young. His skin was smooth, there were no shadows underneath his eyes, none of the gauntness that 12 years in Azkaban seemed to have indelibly etched into the man. Quickly he found Remus - he had one scar across his lip and one on his neck, but his tanned skin was mostly unmarred. He still looked worn, though, and Harry wondered how close the full moon was. 

The students all got up together, the three boys quickly joined by a young Peter Pettigrew that Harry wished he could hex. It was difficult to believe the shorter, round faced, excited boy was the traitor who would cause Harry’s parents to die.

He sincerely hoped that Snape was going in the same direction, as the memory would follow him. Fortunately, he did. He found himself on the grounds, watching his father playing with a snitch and just enjoying the weather with his friends.

Then… everything went wrong. Sirius insisted James put the snitch away, complained he was bored, and James pointed out Snape. 

James, Sirius, and Peter turning their attention to the young Snape reminded him so much of Dudley that his blood ran cold. He almost expected someone to call his father 'Big J'. 

He watched on in horror, wanting to shake Remus and make him do something. He was visibly uncomfortable, why the hell was he just allowing this? Harry shouted at them, knowing damn well it wouldn't make a difference.

They approached Snape, who was alone and had done absolutely nothing to draw their attention, and started laying into him three against one. 

A girl shouted at them to stop, and Harry looked over to see his mother storming over. Relief filled him - of course James would listen to her. Realize he was wrong. Apologize.

That was not what happened. Instead he watched his father threaten to hex his mother, while his mother made it clear she considered the boy to be scum. 

A hand clawed into his shoulder and pulled him out of the pensieve, just in time. He couldn't stand another moment. Harry did not think it was possible to be relieved that Severus Snape was looming over him looking seconds away from murder. 

Distantly he was aware that the man was roaring at him, but the words couldn't make it into his brain. His legs gave out and he just sat on the ground with his head in his hands. 

"Your dramatics aren't going to fool me, Potter," Snape snarled, "Get up - just like your -"

"I AM NOTHING LIKE MY FATHER!" Harry bellowed. The words ripped out of him before he could even think and Snape froze. Harry pointed a shaking finger at the pensieve, "I am nothing like that boy. That is one of the cruelest things I've ever seen, it's just like what my cousin has done to me my entire life. I am nothing like him."

Snape continued staring for a moment before remembering why Harry had been there in the first place. He summoned the paper that Harry had dropped and disappeared through a door. Moments later he shoved a bag into Harry’s hands.

"Best not to keep Slughorn waiting," he said quietly before leaving the room once again.

—

Harry managed to bring the ingredients to Slughorn then mumbled something about not feeling well. He must have looked as dreadful as he felt, because the words weren't out of his mouth before Slughorn was ushering him out and to the hospital wing. 

For a moment he considered going. He still had DADA with Umbridge.  He'd need a sick note if he was going to skive off. But his feet had other ideas, and he found them squelching into the wet grass of the grounds. It was April, warm enough that he didn't need a jacket. Just wet. 

His invisibility cloak was in his bag but he couldn't bring himself to put it on. It wasn't like the tunnel under the Whomping Willow really needed to be much of a secret anymore. Any werewolves that came to Hogwarts would have the wolfsbane potion.

Like Snape had done two years ago, he managed to find a branch that would let him hit the knob to immobilize the tree, clambered down the tunnel, made his way to the fire place that Sirius and Remus had made sure was connected to the floo network.

The feel of powder on his fingers made him pause. It seemed to jolt him back into his body, into the reality of what he was doing. 

What would he say? What would he do if they defended it? Sirius especially was defensive of James - Harry had never really managed to make him angry before. Would now be the time? 

It didn't matter. He'd gone 12 years without a godfather, 10 years living full time with the Dursleys, 4 summers of staying with them. He could go back to that. 

He threw the powder into the fire and knelt down, leaning into the green flames. The kitchen of Grimmauld Place came into view. Someone was sitting there, who jumped up and rushed over - Remus. Harry felt the knot in his stomach loosen just a little. 

"Why didn't you stop the others from bullying Snape at school?" he blurted out before the man had even been able to fully lean down. 

Remus's eyes went wide in surprise then crumpled into a defeated grimace. He took a deep breath and nodded, meeting Harry’s gaze, "Will you tell me what happened?"

Harry told him about the pensieve.  About the memory he saw. When Remus asked which one, and he said it was during OWLs, Remus winced.

"This may not be a comfort, but that was the worst thing they ever did, by a considerable margin," he said hoarsely. Harry glowered at him and Remus nodded, "That's fair - step back. I'll get Sirius and we'll come through."

He hesitated for a moment. The floo call gave some distance, and he still wasn't sure how Sirius would react. It felt a bit intimidating to have them both in the room with him. Then he stepped back, crossed the room to sit on the sofa, and fidgeted with the strap on his bag.

A minute later, the green flames erupted in the empty hearth again and Remus and Padfoot stepped through. Again, the knot in his stomach loosened a bit more. Remus brushed off the ash, Padfoot shook himself - spraying it everywhere and making Harry smile, just a little.

Padfoot curled up on the foot of the sofa while Remus sat on the other side of it, turned to face Harry. He pulled a bottle of butterbeer out of his travel bag and offered it to Harry. He looked grim.

"You wanted to know why I didn't stop Sirius and your father from bullying Snape while we were in school," he began and Harry just nodded, "To start with, I'll need to explain how things were in school. The first war began about the time we all started in Hogwarts, and tensions from blood purists had been growing for a decade," he grimaced, "I sincerely hope you never experience the fog of fear and anger that 15 years of war and terror can cause."

Harry looked down, not sure how to feel.

"You mentioned your cousin - my understanding is that his bullying had always been quite one sided. You've never caused him physical harm?"

"No. The worst I ever did was at the zoo - I was talking to a snake and Dudley started banging on the glass. The glass vanished, he fell in, the snake escaped, then when he tried to get out the glass was back," Harry mumbled uncomfortably.

Remus nodded, "Snape did considerably worse to us. I cannot say for sure who started it - since first year, Severus and Sirius had been at each other's throats," he glanced down at the dog who whined softly, "I didn't really befriend your father or his friends until late into second year. I spent most of my time with your mother - which meant spending quite a bit of time with Severus, though he made it clear he loathed my presence."

"Why? He didn't know you were a werewolf back then."

"No," Remus replied with a dark smile, "But he was quite possessive of Lily. Severus hated anyone who took her attention in any way. He had a terrible childhood - worse than yours, if you can believe it - and for some time Lily and I believed it was simply a result of that. However he never learned to treat people better, and it twisted into treating Lily poorly as well."

"I was a coward, in many ways I still am though I'm trying not to be," Remus continued, redirecting the conversation, "I was quite afraid of what I could lose if I pushed too hard against my friends. Back then, very few people could safely walk the hallways alone. The war was seeping into the school, some of the 6th and 7th years had taken the Dark Mark. Attacks happened from both sides. Just having a muggle mother was enough to make me a target."

"My friends kept me safe. They kept my secret. By that point they had become animagi, and they stopped me from ripping myself to shreds every month," he shook his head, "Standing up to them - and particularly in defense of someone who had attacked me many times and would have been delighted to see me more vulnerable - I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Oh," Harry said in a very small voice, feeling guilty about even asking the question.

Remus leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder, seeming to understand what he was thinking, "It was a fair question, luv, while my actions had reasons - and perhaps it was the only thing I could safely do - my actions were still poor."

Harry nodded, finally opening the butterbeer and taking a long swig of it. He clenched his eyes shut, "Why has everyone only told me what a great man my dad was if he did shit like that?"

Padfoot made a loud huff, nearly a growl, and Remus shushed him harshly. 

"As I said, that was the worst thing he had done at school, while I cannot speak for him - I do believe that he always considered it one of the worst things he'd ever done," Remus leaned back in his seat and sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked back on the memories, "You may not realize that Hogwarts quite rarely writes home about the goings on. The Grangers still don't realize Hermione had been petrified.  That day, his actions were severe enough that McGonagall wrote to your grandparents - I don't know the details, but James returned in sixth year considerably changed. His focus became entirely on defending, he never again initiated a fight, and he cleaned up his act enough to become Head Boy."

"Lily only agreed to a first date with him towards the end of sixth year, when she finally believed he had changed, and she wouldn't officially go out with him until a few months into seventh, after she saw he was a responsible Head Boy," Remus concluded, "He realized that he didn't want to continue on that path and put in considerable effort to become a better person, and that is the man people knew and what he is judged on."

The knot unclenched almost completely, and Harry nodded silently. He wiped his eyes, which had gotten wet. 

"You don't have to be okay about this," Remus said quietly, "Your parents were human - they made mistakes. They did things they shouldn't have. You can love them even if you're upset with them."

"I should be able to ask them about it," he muttered, sniffling despite himself. He had never known his parents and for most of his life it was just a fact he didn't have them. Somehow getting older, hearing more about them was making it harder to pretend there wasn't a hole in his life.

Remus shifted over to hug him properly and Padfoot leaned over his lap, resting his head against his chest. They stayed like that long enough for the knot in his stomach to fully untangle, and he let out a long sigh, shaking his head and pulling away. 

Padfoot sat back down before turning back into his human form, just looking forlorn. Remus reached a hand over to ruffle his hair, "Have you got a pensieve in Grimmauld Place?"

"Yeah, haven't checked it's safe, though, or figured out how to empty the memories already in there," Sirius replied with a grimace, leaning into the touch.

"Perhaps we need to start showing you our own memories - of your parents. The good times, of course, but also give some context to what happened with Severus that day," Remus suggested softly. 

"Be warned there is about a thousand hours of James waxing poetic about your mother," Sirius said sternly, and Harry laughed.

"There's quite a bit of Lily’s muttering about your father's stupid, distracting smile," Remus mused, "We may want to skip the bits about how he looked in his quidditch uniform."

Sirius gasped, "Moony! You hid that from us!"

Remus flicked his forehead, "James did not need the encouragement." 

"She did like him, then? Truly?" Harry asked, leaning forwards, "Because it seemed like she hated him."

"By the end of 5th year, I think she was more frustrated by how attractive she found someone who was behaving like a complete tosser," Remus explained with a chuckle, "She also had her own insecurities about him - I don't think she'd mind me sharing those memories with you."

Harry smiled shyly and nodded eagerly. 

They discussed that for a bit. It was only just over a month until the end of term, no sense doing anything about it now. Eventually Sirius grumbled that he'd just buy a new pensieve instead of going to the hassle of making sure the old one was fit to use. See if Narcissa wanted it. 

Eventually it got late enough for Remus to go over and grab dinner from the Three Broomsticks to bring back. When it was just Sirius and Harry, Sirius took Remus’s spot on the couch and ran a hand over his face before looking grimly at the empty fireplace.

"That day - that you saw - it was the end of term. You know a bit about what happened during my childhood," he snorted, "Hell you've helped clean up the remnants," he shook his head and took a shaky breath, "I was about to go home and that always set me in a foul temper. Your father, James, he was young. He didn't know how to handle it, he was thinking more about trying to get me out of my head than about anything else."

Sirius looked over at Harry, his eyes sad, "That was the summer I ran away. Ran to him, his parents. He finally realized just how bad things were for me, and also realized that stupid shite like that wasn't helping anyone. Your grandparents put a lot of work into helping the both of us become better people that summer," he reached out to ruffle Harry’s hair, smiling fondly, "I owe every good thing I have done with my life to your grandparents, Haz."

Chapter Text

Time barreled ahead. Exams loomed, and classes were entirely focused on revision and preparation. Even the weekly lessons with Remus and Sirius had turned to focus on the OWLs - with Hermione, Neville, and Ron joining. 

Somehow even Umbridge didn't seem to dare risk the students' exam results, and the Inquisitorial Squad was too busy with their own studies.

It seemed like the home stretch. The end of this miserable year was finally in sight, they just had to get through their exams. 

Everything was normal at first. They were tested and examined without interruptions. Harry even got extra credit on his DADA exam for producing his stag patronus, which the examiner knew about after his fateful hearing last summer - and felt very, very slightly guilty that his classmates from the DA didn't get the same chance. 

Then, Astronomy. In the dead of night, Dolores Umbridge had brought back up to physically force Hagrid from not only his job but also his home. Professor McGonagall had apparently found out and rushed to his aid, only to be hit squarely in the chest by five stunning spells.

It was terrible to watch, and he doubted anyone had received full marks on that exam. Even the examiner hadn't been able to focus on anything else but the grotesque display on the grounds beneath. 

Given that stress, no one could really be surprised when Harry found himself nodding off during his History of Magic exam. It was the final exam, topping off two grueling weeks and following a horrible night, and on a subject Harry regularly found himself sleeping through. 

He fought it to the best of his abilities, getting reasonably coherent answers down to every question. His head was resting in his hand when the examiner gave the 15 minute warning and his eyes finally slipped closed, properly - what harm could a small nap do?

Another dream of the Ministry. He'd been getting better at waking up from them, and was about to when he heard the word 'crucio' fall from his lips and a scream of pain followed.

His blood ran cold and he gave into the vision. Voldemort's worlds still felt as though they were coming from his lips, he'd learned he had no control over that. It was one way he had found to identify a vision versus a dream. 

He was in a cathedral-sized room full of rows of glass spheres, row ninety seven. He had seen this place before, briefly, in previous visions that he'd woken up from. He - as Voldemort - was standing there, laughing cruelly. 

In front of him, writhing on the ground, was Sirius Black.

—

His scar felt like it was going to burst open, and his cry of pain fortunately came as the wizard overseeing the exam was already collecting the papers. He muttered an excuse about falling asleep and a nightmare, which was true enough. The people around him gave him disgruntled looks - some concerned, others suspicious. Ron and Hermione were both watching him with open worry.

It was too obvious. Too convenient, a twisted sort of considerate that Voldemort would wait until he finished his exams to do this. Incredibly unlikely that he'd managed to grab Sirius from his safehouse. 

It couldn't be ignored, though. 

Hermione, Ron, and Neville all rushed to him as soon as they got out of the Great Hall. Harry looked at Neville in surprise while the three began asking him what was going on, then he shook himself and looked grimly at them.

"I fell asleep - I had a vision, that Voldemort has-" he hesitated, glancing at Neville, "my godfather and is torturing him."

"But, Harry, that can't be-" Hermione said, wringing her hands and shaking her head, "he doesn't leave the safe house, right? They can't have gotten him."

"I know - I need to find out. I'm going to floo call them. After the attack last night, there's no one left at Hogwarts we can ask to contact Dumbledore," Harry said bitterly.

"Snape can," Hermione pointed out, "Oh, please don't make that face, Harry! Dumbledore trusts him! And how are you going to make the Floo call?"

"The Shrieking Shack, I've done it before," he replied, crossing his arms. 

Hermione hesitated before nodding, "I'll go tell Professor Snape - Ron?" she turned to the red haired boy, "Stay with Harry," he nodded firmly and she turned pleading eyes to Harry, "I will meet you outside the Willow - please, Harry, don't do anything reckless."

Harry glowered at her, Ron elbowed him and he just nodded. Hermione fled towards the dungeons. Harry and Ron began moving towards the doors, Neville following them. Ginny and Luna shouted for their attention and rushed over and Harry felt like he could scream in frustration when Ron put a hand on his shoulder to see what they wanted.

They had made plans to meet up with Neville after the exam - but before Harry could mutter something about needing to leave, Neville had blurted out that You Know Who had kidnapped Harry’s godfather.  Ginny’s face went pale, and Luna’s eyes went so wide Harry was surprised they didn't fall out of her head.

"I have to go," Harry hissed at Ron, storming out. To his endless annoyance, he now had an entourage of four people following and people were looking at them. 

"Will you lot please quit following us?" Harry growled over his shoulder.

"Absolutely not - you're going to try and save him, and we're not letting you do that alone," Ginny said testily.

"Wasn't that the entire point of the DA lessons?" Neville added, "Preparing us to actually fight?"

"Yes, in self defense! Not to go running off after Voldemort!" Harry insisted, throwing his hands in the air.

"Ginny!" Ron said sternly, "You're too young! Mum would kill me if -"

"I'm two years older than Harry was when he faced him in the Chamber of Secrets!" Ginny shot back angrily before turning her attention back to Harry, "You have to know this is a trap, Harry-"

"Of course I know that!" he snarled, "All the more reason for you -"

"We are not letting you walk into a trap alone!" Neville said furiously, and it made Harry stop in his tracks. For most of the time he had known Neville, the boy had been so nervous and uncertain. When he'd stood up to them in first year, he had been trembling in his bunny slippers.

"Okay, okay. Listen," Harry said, running a hand through his hair, "We don't know anything for sure yet. There's a tunnel under the Whomping Willow - I'm going to go there, floo call, and if he's there then… well, Voldemort got desperate and stupid and we can ignore it."

"We can see the willow from here," Luna said pleasantly, "We can make sure no one causes trouble while you and Ron go."

They nodded, exchanged a surprised glance, and ran towards the tree. Soon, he and Ron knelt in front of green flames and leaned in. They both bellowed for one of the men to answer - instead Kreacher came in, cackling.

"The Potter boy and Weasley brat's heads in the fire," his laughter echoed through the kitchen, "What have they come for, Kreacher wonders?"

"Where is Sirius, Kreacher?" Harry demanded.

"Nobody here but Kreacher!" the elf cried gleefully, "Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries! Kreacher and his mistress are alone again!"

Harry jerked himself out of the fire, dragging Ron with him. Ron had gone pale and gulped heavily, "Blimey… that was pretty clear…"

They rushed back out to find an even larger group than they had left. Fred and George had just rushed over, judging by how they were panting, and in the distance they could see Hermione and Snape approaching. Hermione seemed to be pleading with him to hurry while the man strode nonchalantly. 

"You can't expect us to see you lot rushing out here-" Fred began.

"-with Hermione and Snape going in the same direction-" George added.

"-without finding out what's going on," they finished. 

Harry nodded at them before striding to close some of the difference between himself and Snape.

"Well, Potter, it seems your Occlumency lessons have rather failed," Snape sneered, raising an eyebrow.

"I just flooed Grimmauld Place - Kreacher said 'Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries'," Harry said, ignoring the jab and copying the elf's delighted tones with the utmost disdain. Hermione covered her mouth and looked over to Ron, who nodded. 

"You know well that Lupin has been enabling Black's wanderlust, I hardly-" 

"Petrificus totalus! "

Snape’s body hit the floor with a thud and the students all stared at Harry in shock. Harry was shaking, furious, "I know - that's why this is fucking believable," Harry spat, "The only reason you're still conscious is because even if you are on Voldemort's side - I know that if you want to keep being his spy against Dumbledore, you'll have to tell the man where we've gone."

He spun on his heel and stalked over to the group, who still looked stunned. 

"This is a trap. I know damn well that he's using Sirius to lure me there - and I do not trust Snape to act quickly if it's Sirius’s life in danger," Harry said firmly, hoping someone had caught Luna and Neville up, "I am going to the Department of Mysteries. None of you have to come-"

"Oh, come off it, Harry!" Ginny snapped, "We aren't going over this again!"

"And if she's going, we have to-" "-mum would kill us," the twins added. 

"This is what we trained for," Luna mused, still with a distracted smile on her face. 

"How are we going to get there?" Hermione asked, worried.

"We can fly, of course," Luna said, pointing to the forest, "Thestrals."

Nearly everyone cringed at that suggestion, but Harry grinned, "That's perfect, Luna. If my first plan doesn't work - we'll do that."

The group looked at him in confusion as he shouted, "Dobby!"

With a crack, the elf appeared. He was beaming up at Harry from underneath a haphazard pile of knitted hats, quivering with joy down to his odd socks clad toes.

"Harry Potter, sir! It's always wonderful to see you!" the elf squeaked with delight.

Harry smiled at him, "Dobby - do you think it's possible for you to transport all of us into the Department of Mysteries?"

Dobby frowned for a moment, snapping his fingers and vanishing. He reappeared seconds later, smiling widely, "Certainly! Where would you like to go?"

Harry felt his breath catch for a moment, stunned this worked. He boggled at how powerful elf magic was. "I - thank you, that's wonderful. After you transport us - could you please unpetrify Professor Snape?" Harry asked, and Dobby looked over at the man with a look of distaste. He nodded, though, and turned his wide eyes back to Harry. "We need to go to the place they keep the prophecies. Row ninety."

With a crack, the world vanished. It was almost exactly like apparition, the sensation of being pulled through a tube. Soon his feet hit a solid, marble floor. He stood up, wand out, and looked around. A surreal sense of deja vu came over him - he had seen the room in his sleep several times, most notably less than an hour ago. Yet he had never actually set foot there.

He turned around, looking at his ragtag team. Hermione was the most shaken up by the experience, and Ron had an arm around her shoulders to support her. The twins, well comfortable with apparition and the oldest, also had their wands out and had stationed themselves at the perimeter of the group.

Harry looked up at the numbers on the rows, he had specifically asked to be placed a few rows down so they were less likely to be dropped into the middle of an ambush. He turned back to the group and gestured for them to follow him. 

It did not take long to walk down the remaining seven rows, and his stomach lurched as he turned the corner. It was dark, but he ought to be able to see figures. Hear something. It looked distinctly empty. Harry grimaced, gesturing again and pushing forwards. 

"Harry?" Hermione said quietly, voice filled with worry, "I don't think he's here."

"I noticed," Harry agreed, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Harry?" Ron asked, sounding surprised, "This one's got your name on it."

The group turned to face him and Fred stepped forward, "SPT to APWBD…"

"That's Dumbledore!" Hermione hissed.

"Dark Lord and Harry Potter," Fred finished and looked at Harry with a frown, "but there's a question mark - like they don't know if it's about you, mate."

Harry took a deep breath in and let it out slowly through his nostrils. Sirius had been right. It had been about the stupid ruddy prophecy that got his parents killed. 

"Go on then, Potter," a voice drawled from behind them, "Take it."

Black shapes were emerging out of thin air around them. A dozen lit wand tips were aimed at them. The twins and Ron stepped quickly, moving so Ginny, Hermione, and Luna were behind them. The three witches threw up protective wards. Neville was beside Harry, shaking slightly. They were surrounded and outnumbered.

"The prophecy, Potter," the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy repeated, "Hand it to me."

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

The Death Eaters laughed and a harsh female voice said triumphantly, "The Dark Lord always knows!"

"Always," Malfoy agreed softly, "Now give me the prophecy, Potter."

"That's not how this works," Hermione interrupted, "We don't need this prophecy - Dumbledore knows it - so what would your Dark Lord do if we-" she held her wand up to it. The Death Eaters made noises of rage and despair. She smirked, "Hostage for a hostage. You give us Sirius, we don't smash the prophecy. So, where is Sirius Black?"

"You wouldn't dare," snarled Lucius, in a voice which very much reminded Harry of the way Draco sounded when they fought after the Quidditch Match. He was scared.

Harry gripped the prophecy and picked it up, raising it and swiftly throwing his hand to the floor.

"NO!" shrieked several of the hooded figures. 

"Answer her question," Harry said, holding up the prophecy and raising an eyebrow.

"It was just a dream, Potter," Lucius spat, "Now give us the prophecy or we will kill you all!"

"But if we're dead - the Dark Lord will still be furious. He's been after this all year," Hermione interrupted, her voice growing higher. The Death Eaters shifted and murmured amongst themselves. Harry heard Ginny and Luna muttering, and Neville hissed in his ear, "Say when - we'll attack the shelves."

"NOW!" Harry shouted, and seven voices bellowed "PROTEGO!" from behind him. The curses flew in every direction, knocking over the shelves. Splintered wood and broken glass shattered, the room filled with ghostly apparitions rising up from the broken prophecy globes. 

Miraculously, one fell off a broken shelf unharmed. Harry managed to snatch it, shattering the real prophecy as he did. 

The group splintered, with the twins taking up the rear of each- firing counter jinxes, protection spells, and hexes with remarkable efficiency. Harry found himself with Neville, Hermione, and Fred - who looked particularly grim when he realized neither his brother nor sister were there. Hermione managed to seal the door, but it wouldn't hold for long.

Both groups of teenagers found themselves being chased through room after room full of bizarre, impossible things. Under different circumstances it would have been amazing to explore and learn more. Instead, they were able to take in just enough to protect themselves.  Massive amounts of the Department of Mysteries was damaged and both the teenagers and Death Eaters took injuries. 

It felt like an eternity, and Harry didn't even have a real idea of what the end goal was. Could 8 Hogwarts students possibly knock out over a dozen Death Eaters, all of whom had survived the first war? The department was an absolute labyrinth that seemed to change the order of rooms. Escape didn't even seem possible. His friends kept sending him increasingly desperate, pleading looks for guidance, anything other than 'try not to die'.

All of his dreams had shown a simple, blasted corridor as if it was such an easy thing to navigate. Not for the first time, he silently cursed himself for leading them here. They would likely all die for nothing except the petty satisfaction Harry had smashed the prophecy Voldemort had wanted so badly.

Brilliant.

They had gotten split up further. Hermione had been knocked out, Neville injured. Fred took over watching them while Harry attempted to lure the Death Eaters away. Harry rushed into the next room - which was a strange, empty room of dull grey stone with steps leading up to a stone dais with a simple arch at the center. A wispy veil fluttered in it, and Harry could hear voices behind it.

The Death Eaters followed him- and Neville followed after them. Harry couldn't be too irritated as the boy managed to hit a few with stunning charms.  A large Death Eater managed to grab Neville from behind, holding him by the arms so he couldn’t cast any more spells.

“It’s Longbottom, isn’t it?” sneered Lucius Malfoy, “Your death won’t come as a great surprise, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause…”

“Longbottom?” asked Bellatrix, her gaunt face twisting into a truly evil smile, “Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy.”

“I KNOW YOU HAVE!” roared Neville, struggling hard enough against his captor that the Death Eater begged for him to be stunned. 

Bellatrix grinned, “No… let’s see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents…” she turned to Harry and narrowed her eyes, “Unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy.”

Neville roared at Harry not to. Harry hesitated, gripping the orb in his hand more tightly. It wasn’t the right prophecy, he had smashed that and grabbed another to use as decoy. If they knew it was the wrong one…

Above them, two more doors burst open and six more people dashed into the room - Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Arthur and Bill.

The Death Eaters turned, wands raised at the Order members. Spells flashed across the room. Neville had been unceremoniously dropped by the Death Eater and Harry ducked down, rushing over to him to make sure he was alright. Neville was glaring at Bellatrix with a look of pure hatred, and was soon on his feet again and running after her with a scream. 

The woman heard and spun back around to face him, cackling. She practically danced around, dodging the spells he sent her way, pirouetting up the stone staircase. Harry did his best to run after them, deflecting and countering spells that came at them from other angles, and shouting for Neville to stop chasing her. 

Finally she came to a stop, raising her wand and shouting, “Crucio!"

It was aimed straight at his chest, and he stumbled back. Harry caught him before he fell, bracing for the effect of the curse. Instead, Remus leapt in front of it - bellowing in pain but able to stay standing.

“Filthy half-breed, spoiling my fun!” Bellatrix screamed, not breaking the spell.

“STUPEFY!” Neville roared, leaning around the man to hit her. The jet of red light struck her in the chest and threw her back, her eyes wide with shock and her mouth still open in a cruel laugh. She was thrown straight through the veil and Harry gripped his wand, preparing to make sure she was properly down, when something strange happened.

The veil fluttered as if a strong wind were blowing through the room, and the falling body vanished into it. There was no sound as her stunned form hit the solid stone - for it did not. The veil settled once again, waving gently as voices murmured from it. Harry imagined he could hear the echoes of a woman’s cackle.

Chapter Text

Distantly, Harry was aware that the battle was still raging around him. In that moment, however, the world seemed to go still. Neville was shaking, his eyes wide and jaw hanging open, Remus was bent over slightly and panting. Once he’d caught his breath, though, he turned around to face Neville, placing a hand on either shoulder and catching his eye.

“Is she- I just - it was a stunning-” Neville said, the blood drained from his face.

“I know,” Remus said firmly, “You couldn’t have known what would happen. You offered her more kindness in your choice of spells than many would.”

“I killed her,” he whispered.

Remus nodded once, “No matter who she was, it won’t be a good feeling. We have people who will help you through this, right now - you need to focus on getting out.”

Neville took a shaky breath and nodded bleakly, looking over at Harry helplessly. Harry clapped a hand to his back and offered a strained, half sort of smile, completely clueless of how to respond. 

“You’re alright, Harry?” Remus asked, dropping one of his hands from Neville’s shoulders and turning his attention to the bespectacled boy.

“Sirius-?” Harry asked, his voice coming out strangled, as if he hadn’t known the answer the moment Lucius appeared.

“Safe. Kreacher lied,” he replied grimly, "Not now -" he glanced at the orb in Harry’s hand, "That the prophecy, then?"

Harry swallowed thickly, meeting his eyes and pushing forwards with legilimency for just a second before pulling back and praying Remus got his meaning. Remus's brow furrowed but he pushed into Harry’s mind and Harry immediately supplied - 'Smashed the real one, as long as they think this decoy is real they'll keep us alive.'

Remus's lips twitched up at the corners but he only nodded, "Good - keep it safe." 

He looked up, surveying the room. There were a few bodies of unconscious Death Eaters. Tonks had been knocked out as well, Moody was tending to them. Shacklebolt and the two Weasleys had gone elsewhere, most likely to find the other students. 

"The other aurors, the ones not with the Order, will be arriving at the Ministry soon. Our priority is getting you two out of here safely- I'll carry Tonks so Moody can help the rest," Remus said, not looking at them. He had made eye contact with Moody and they were apparently exchanging a silent conversation. 

"We can't leave the others!" Harry said urgently.

"We aren't," Remus pointed out firmly, "There are four Order members supporting them. You," he gestured at Neville and Harry, "are two children who have been through enough of an ordeal - the most helpful thing you can do is get to safety."

Harry glowered, wanting to argue, but Neville placed a hand on his arm and met his eyes with a haunted gaze. Harry nodded to him.

They moved through the room. Remus picked up Tonks, carrying them over his shoulder so his wand was still out. The two Order members exchanged a few words too quietly for the boys to hear. Moody cast a quick diagnostic charm on them to make sure there were no hidden injuries before he rushed off for the others. Harry was still amazed at how quickly the man could move during a fight.

They made their way through the department. Remus seemed to have a more solid idea of how to get out, and soon they had reached the hallway that had haunted Harry’s dreams for months. 

Before they could make their way through it, two Death Eaters found them - Rookwood and Malfoy. Flashes of light filled the narrow corridor, knocking off some of the torches and blowing holes in the wall. Having to support Tonks impeded Remus’s ability to fight, and he struggled with just Rookwood, cursing as Lucius managed to get past him. Harry and Neville both did their best to fight him off, finding themselves being pushed backwards through the hallway and soon the Ministry atrium was in sight.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom." A deep, booming voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"Dumbledore," Neville said in awe. Lucius's face went pale, the distraction enough to get a stunning spell in against him, his body falling limply to the floor.

"The aurors are on their way-" Dumbledore continued. They could see him now, striding purposefully towards a figure in black robes whose head from behind looked very much like a skull that had been bleached. 

"By which time I will be gone, and you will be dead!" Voldemort spat, shooting a killing curse at Dumbledore which the man repelled, it hit the reception desk instead, which burst into flame.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, running into the room. It bounced off a shield he hadn't seen Voldemort conjure. The snake-like man turned and his eyes widened and his mouth spread into a cruel grin at the sight.

"You have delivered me my prophecy!" he crowed, reaching a hand out.

"Sure this is the one you want?" he asked coldly, holding the sphere up.  A figure in Victorian style clothing rose from it.

"A child of the moon seeks to attack our Queen…

The Empire of the Wolf is near at hand…

Only the Oncoming Storm and the Rose can prevent it…"

For the briefest moment, horror flickered across Voldemort's face. Closely followed by rage. 

"WHERE IS MY PROPHECY?!" he screamed, the voice shattering every window in the room as if it were an explosion emanating from him

"I shattered it the first chance I got!" Harry bellowed back, "Dumbledore knows it! Why would I need a copy?!"

"You have irked me for the last time! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Automatically, Harry threw up a protego. As had occurred last year, the beams of light connected and the wands became attached to each other by a string of gold. 

"NO!" Voldemort screeched.

Once again, a dome shaped web of golden threads formed around them. From beyond, Harry could just barely make out the unmistakable green flashes of floos being activated. The aurors had arrived. Shouts could be heard throughout the hall. Flashes like that of a camera.

Harry could not focus on that, though, trapped in a battle of wills. He didn't know what would happen if Voldemort won. Presumably, nothing noteworthy.  His wand would replicate his most recent spells - shields, counters, and hexes - which shouldn't be dangerous. He didn't want to take the risk, though, nor give the bastard the satisfaction of winning. 

He won. Voldemort's wand produced a string of crucio - figures writhing on the floor, mostly his own Death Eaters. There was one Harry was waiting for. Let the Ministry see. Let the world know what happened. He held his wand steady and met Voldemort's gaze, red eyes a mixture of hatred and terror.

Finally, a familiar figure appeared. Cedric Diggory. Dressed as he had been in the final task of the Triwizard Cup. Harry felt his chest tighten and eyes sting, but he stayed firm.

"Thank you, Harry," the figure said calmly, smiling at him. 

Harry ripped his wand away, breaking the connection. He couldn't stand to see his parents again. Not like this.

As soon as the connection was broken, Voldemort vanished in a swirl of smoke. The entire chamber was still and silent, all eyes on Harry.

"It's true! He's back!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a blond ponytail, pointing at the spot Voldemort had stood seconds before.

"It was Priori Incantatem!" a witch wearing navy and gold added, "I saw Cedric Diggory! You Know Who did kill him!"

"I know, I know, I saw him, too," gibbered Cornelius Fudge, whose face was pale and glistening with sweat. He was wearing pajamas under his cloak, "Merlin's beard - here! - in the Ministry of Magic! It doesn't seem possible…"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said, walking forwards so the newcomers realized he was there, "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber awaiting your decision as to what to do with them." 

Fudge stared at him in disbelief, looking very much like he wanted to shout 'Seize him' - but a quick glance around him suggested this would not be taken well. 

"I - I don't- oh very well. Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see…" After they had left the room, he looked at Harry before turning back to Dumbledore, "Harry Potter - why - what's this all about?"

"I shall explain everything, when Harry is back at school," Dumbledore said calmly.

Harry’s eyes flickered over the crowd and a particularly bold instinct took hold of him. He said, as loudly as he could manage, his voice steady, "Hogwarts is being run by a witch who uses blood quills and veritaserum against the students. It's not safe for me to go back."

This led to a series of gasps and mutters throughout the room. Dumbledore froze, his eyes wide. A series of emotions flickered past his face too quickly for Harry to read any of them, as Harry was refusing to make eye contact. Fudge sputtered feeble objections.

"Those are serious allegations," a grizzled wizard with a mane of tawny hair said, walking forward. The crowd parted for him and Harry recognized him as Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office, "Will you consent to legilimency to confirm - that will be enough evidence to warrant an arrest, and you will be needed to testify at the trial."

"Absolutely," Harry said firmly, his jaw set in determination. 

They each took a few steps forward and Scrimgeour raised his wand before saying, "Legilimens!" 

Harry firmly directed him to the appropriate memories. His night with Dolores Umbridge, the cuts on his skin, the cuts on other students that Harry had seen, Umbridge's attempt at using veritaserum against Harry, Cho sobbing as she apologized for betraying the DA after Umbridge called her in for tea… finally, last year, Fudge and the Dementors, finding Barty Crouch Jr kissed… Crouch's confession…

Scrimgeour pulled back, an expression of utmost disgust on his face. Without breaking eye contact with Harry, he cast an immobilizing charm on Fudge. Slowly he turned towards the man.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Fudge squawked.

"I have just received evidence," Scrimgeour said icily, "That last year you covered up that another prisoner had escaped Azkaban. You had the Dementor's Kiss administered without proper authorization. You purposefully hid evidence pointing to You Know Who's return and endangered the entire populace of Great Britain."

"But - I - he -" Fudge squeaked. The mood in the hall changed considerably at that moment. Scrimgeour called over another auror to escort Fudge into holding.

Dumbledore had approached Harry during the legilimency and gave him a fond smile, "You handled that remarkably well, Harry."

"You're speaking to me again, then?" he asked tersely, folding his arms.

"Regrettably, I have perhaps not handled this year in the best way I could have," Dumbledore admitted, bowing his head, "Now, will you permit me to send you back to school? If you'll wait for me in my office -"

"Absolutely not," Harry said firmly, "I'll go wherever you sent the others."

He looked around, and noticed Neville peering out from behind a pillar, face white. Harry gave a small wave, which Neville returned.

"Ah, yes, Mr Longbottom. I hadn't realized he had stayed with you," Dumbledore said with an amused smile. He let out a long sigh, "Very well, I'll send you both to the Hospital Wing, where you will find the others. I will need to see you privately in my office to discuss the prophecy-"

"The prophecy that could also have been about Neville’s parents?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'll discuss that with you if Neville is there as well."

Dumbledore’s face darkened for a second before he agreed. 

—

Dolores Umbridge had not slept that night. Eight children had disappeared from under her nose. Eight! Every one of them a member of Dumbledore’s Army. She knew she had been too lenient on them. If only she'd taken firmer action with Potter from the start…

At a rather ungodly hour, the floo in her office came to life. She startled, gripping the front of her dressing gown tightly in one hand and her wand in the other.

Rufus Scrimgeour and two of his aurors came through and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, it is good to see you, Rufus," she said with a smile, "Have you caught him, then?"

"I beg your pardon, Dolores, I'm not sure who you mean," he replied quietly.

"Why, that miscreant Potter of course!" she said, her eyes widening, "Why else would you be here?"

Rufus gestured to his aurors, who came up to her on either side, one disarmed her and the other cast a charm to put her arms in shackles.

"How dare you! Why, when Cornelius-"

"Cornelius Fudge is currently being held for trial," Rufus replied, "Evidence has come to light that you have violated Ministry law and mistreated minors-"

"Mistreated!" she squawked, her eyes bulging out of her hand, "Why those little-"

"Dolores," Rufus said sharply, "I am not in the mood for your vitriol so allow me to warn you that anything you say is likely to only further damage your case."

The woman screwed her mouth up, pursing her lips so tightly that they were barely visible at all. She glared at him with pure venomous rage, giving one final attempt to free herself before allowing the aurors to lead her back through the floo.

Chapter Text

Soon, Neville and Harry found themselves in the Hospital Wing. Harry was wrapped in a tight hug which he quickly recognized was from Remus, and his entire body sagged. It felt as though everything since he'd had the vision - really everything since exams started - hit him in one go and he was overwhelmed by a bone deep exhaustion.

"Let me check him for injuries," Madam Pomfrey said, shooing away Remus, who just gave a tired nod, staying near Harry as she led him and Neville to a bed. 

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Tonks and Arthur were all sleeping in their own hospital beds. Fred and George were sitting on one with Bill, looking exhausted and grim as they watched their family sleep. It was likely that Mrs Weasley would be here in the morning. Moody and Shacklebolt were nowhere to be seen, perhaps at the Ministry or Order headquarters.

Madam Pomfrey saw to Neville first, then Harry, casting diagnostic spells. Eventually she was satisfied and gave them both dreamless sleep potions. Harry drank his gratefully. He had had quite enough of dreams.

—

It was remarkable how much had changed by the time Harry had woken, compared to how they were when he had been sitting and writing answers for his History OWL. It hardly seemed possible that it had been less than 24 hours.

Dumbledore was headmaster again. Umbridge and Fudge had been arrested. All of the Death Eaters from the Ministry, including Lucius Malfoy, were on their way to Azkaban.

The Prophet had reported on all of this. They did not disclose that Bellatrix Lestrange had died, hopefully they didn't know. They did report on Harry’s duel with Voldemort, though. The front page of the Daily Prophet featured a photo of Harry - standing in the rubble of the ministry, wand at his side, staring defiantly ahead. 

'BOY WHO LIVED DEFENDS MINISTRY FROM YOU-KNOW-WHO' the title read.

The entire wix world knew that Voldemort had returned, even that he had indeed killed Cedric last year. Harry felt slightly guilty for that one - he hadn't been able to warn Cedric's parents or Cho. Someone had managed to get photographs of Harry’s duel with Voldemort, and despite the arching threads - one still managed to show the after image of Cedric Diggory.

All of this, Harry would discover later.

First, he woke up to perhaps the most unexpected sight of all. His godfather, Sirius Black, in all his human glory, leaning back casually in one of the hospital wing chairs with a tawny, greying wolf draped over his lap. Harry grabbed his glasses off the table next to his bed and put them on after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, frowning at the sight.

“Harry James Potter, you must be the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Sirius said, his voice full of amusement. 

“Because I survived Voldemort again?” Harry asked bitterly, lying back down. He had turned on his side so he was facing them.

Sirius laughed and shook his head, “No - because you did the one thing you were absolutely supposed to not do and somehow managed to fix just about everything.”

Harry frowned at him, confused, and waited for him to continue.

“You’ve managed to force the Ministry to admit Voldemort is back, and held your own in a duel against him,” Sirius explained fondly, “Which means that people have hope,” he took a deep breath, rolling his lips together before smiling again, “and they have to question so much that Ms Juma has gotten them to reopen my case and do an appeal quite urgently, and right now I'm formally on probation - so I can at least be here safely,” he grimaced, “turns out it was a good thing I didn’t go - if the aurors found me, or even any trace of me, in the Ministry I would have been lumped in with the Death Eaters. Because I wasn’t there, they’re willing to question it.” 

The wolf on his lap huffed at this, not opening his eyes or giving any other indication he was awake, and Sirius rolled his eyes before giving Harry a sheepish smile.

“Erm - and it’s alright if it’s too much, you’ve been through plenty already - but it would help if you’d be willing to, that is, that night with Pettigrew at the shack…” he was rambling again, reminding Harry very much of the night they met, when he’d offered to let Harry move in with him. 

Harry smiled, “‘Course. I’ll do anything I can to help - and I’ve already agreed to speak in court against Fudge and Umbridge, no way I wouldn’t for you as well.”  Sirius beamed at him.

“How long has he- I mean, that is Remus, isn’t it? Should he be like that?” Harry asked, nodding to the wolf.

In response, Remus returned back to human, now kneeling against Sirius’s legs with his head resting on his lap, he stretched his back and rubbed his face with his hand, “I registered - perfectly legal.” 

“About a month,” Sirius added, answering the first question, “We wanted to make sure we still knew what we were doing.”

“Looks like you do, then,” Harry said, sitting upright and grinning at the reminder that they’d be doing the animagus ritual over the summer. They had already gotten mandrake leaves and secured them with sticking charms. After the first week it was almost possible to forget they were there.

At that point he finally looked around. As he expected, Molly was there. Arthur was no longer in a hospital bed, he and Bill appeared to have left. The twins were passed out next to each other in the bed besides Ginny, who was sitting up and facing the brunt of her mother’s fussing. Ron was still asleep, having been attacked by some weird brain things from the Department of Mysteries. Hermione had moved from her bed into a chair next to him, reading a book out loud and frequently glancing down at him in worry.

Luna was sitting up in the next bed, and a man was in the chair next to her. He had the same long, blond hair and a somewhat dreamy quality to his expression, although he had bags under his eyes and kept touching her cheek or hair as if he was afraid she was about to vanish. 

Next to Harry, Neville was still asleep. Under the effects of the potion, his face was serene and unworried. Looking at him, Harry remembered the arch with the veil, Bellatrix falling through it. He looked down at his hands, which had become clenched into the blanket. He looked back at Remus, who appeared to be half asleep again.

“Remus? What’s - what’s going to happen?”

Remus met his gaze and straightened up so he could look at Neville, then he shook his head, “She was Voldemort’s favorite. If word gets out…” he let out a long breath, “We’ll do our best to protect him. The Order has already started discussing how best to handle this.”

“I shouldn’t have let any of them come…” Harry said bitterly, his fists tightening on the blankets, “The risk… I told all of them…”

Sirius shifted the chair so he was sitting directly next to the bed, and Remus made an attempt to sit at the foot of the bed, leaning heavily on his arms.

“Would they have actually let you do that?” Remus asked with a fond smile, “It wasn’t entirely your choice to make.”

“You convinced Sirius not to go,” Harry pointed out with a glower.

“He made me do an Unbreakable Vow,” Sirius pointed out with a small laugh, “With Snape overseeing! That would have taken a terrible amount of time to do with seven people…”

“I also don’t fancy how it would have turned out - you alone against a dozen Death Eaters,” Remus added, “If you must run off into danger - it is wisest to do so with allies by your side.” 

“At least there were two adults,” Sirius added, ruffling Harry's hair, “And the rest you’d made sure had extra training.”

Harry lay back against his pillow, closing his eyes, “It feels like someone should be mad at me. I did something incredibly stupid, what I was specifically told not to do, I nearly got us all killed, it only worked out through sheer dumb luck…”

“I’m sure Moony will be more than happy to oblige with a furious, terrified lecture once he’s gotten some proper sleep,” Sirius said fondly.

“Moony is too busy kicking himself for not teaching the boy how to use a patronus to send a bloody message!” the werewolf muttered, eyes closed again.

Sirius huffed out a sigh, “He’s not wrong- we really dropped the ball on that one. There are a lot of adults to blame here,” he placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Given the circumstances, you handled things quite admirably.” 

Harry finally opened his eyes again, looking over at Sirius and searching his face. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. The weight at the foot of his bed shifted to the familiar one of a large canine curled up. It was a bit funny, really, that this was so familiar when Harry had never had an actual dog.

He buried his face in his hands and laughed bitterly, "Last summer I said I wanted to fight - then I got there and… fuck I was so scared. I had no idea what I was doing, aside from trying not to let anyone die. I feel like such an idiot."

"Oh, kid, that's what war is," Sirius said softly, leaning over so his arms were resting on Harry’s bed, "Not every single fight, really, but no matter how much training you have - things go tits up, things you could never have prepared for happen, people you love are in danger or worse," he sighed bitterly, "Young people get raised on tales of the glory of war - we don't talk enough about how ugly it really is."

"I'm going to have to fight again, aren't I?" Harry asked quietly.

"Even if you don't have to," Sirius said quietly, "Others will. Do you honestly think you'll be able to sit on the sidelines while others are risking their lives?" He wasn't meeting Harry’s gaze, he looked old and worn.

"No," Harry admitted, "I don't think I could do that."

Sirius nodded, a grim smile on his lips, "I know," he laughed darkly and finally looked back at Harry, "Best we can hope for is that it waits until you're an adult at least!"

A flurry of movement across the room caught Harry’s attention, and he looked over to see Ginny waving at him. Once she saw he was looking, she looked meaningfully at her mother - who was now over at Ron’s bedside, crying softly while Hermione tried to say something soothing.

Harry pushed himself up to sit properly, "I think I should call Mrs Weasley over."

"Mm, probably," Sirius agreed, leaning back in his chair again, "She's like a second mother to you. Appreciate she's given us the space she has."

If Sirius’s casualness was slightly forced, Harry still appreciated it. He leaned forward, hesitating only a moment before calling, "Mrs Weasley?"

The woman wiped her cheeks one last time before looking over brightly at Harry. Harry caught both Ginny and Hermione sighing with relief. She came over, casting an anxious look at the wolf at the end of the bed as she passed him, before focusing her attention on Harry.

"Oh, Harry, dear, I can't say how glad I am to see you well," she said, running a gentle hand over his hair. Her voice shook ever so slightly. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, not able to meet her eyes, "For dragging your family into this."

Molly gave a watery laugh, "Oh tish tosh! As if they'd have let you do that alone. Fred and George told me about how much work you put into helping the other students train to defend themselves…" she took a long breath, "I was foolish to try and stop that. I wanted so badly to be able to keep all of you safe and away from it all - that was never going to happen," she looked at him sadly.

"Especially for you, Harry. We've all known that You Know Who would be focused on you, since you'd defeated him," she was looking over his face as if trying to memorize it, her hand settled on his cheek, "I would give anything to keep all of my children, including you, away from this war - but I can't, and I should have faced that sooner."

Harry just nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. He felt tears welling in his eyes and leaned forward, finding himself wrapped in a tight hug, Mrs Weasley continuing to brush a hand over his hair and murmuring reassurances to him. 

—

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... 

born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... 

and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... 

and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... 

the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...."

Harry and Neville stared at the pensieve, which the ghostly figure of Sybil Trelawney had just sank back into after delivering the ominous prophecy. ‘Either must die at the hand of the other’. That was a particularly chilling line.

“That could have been me?” Neville asked quietly, looking at Harry quickly and then up at Dumbledore. Harry had not found himself willing to make eye contact with the old wizard since the battle at the Ministry. 

“Yes,” Dumbledore said grimly, “However he made his choice that fateful night when he killed Harry’s parents, and left that scar.” 

“I have to kill him, then?” Harry asked bitterly, looking over at Fawkes, the Phoenix.

Silence followed this statement. Dumbledore spent some time attempting to catch Harry’s gaze, while Harry adamantly refused to. He was not remotely in the mood to let the man sneak into his head right now. Perhaps this was incredibly rude, but surely invading someone’s mind without permission was worse.

“Yes, Harry,” the man said quietly, “I’m afraid that is the case. I have struggled deeply with deciding when to share this information with you, I fear I may have left it too late.”

Harry rolled his lips together and nodded, looking over at Neville. The boy was shaking slightly, and again had the haunted expression on his face.

The meeting with Dumbledore was a strange affair. Precious little of it was new information to Harry, but he didn’t feel like pointing this out. He had hoped that somehow it would help Neville, for whom all of the information was brand new.  Maybe it had been a mistake, but Neville was now quite deeply into the war and would have a target on his back for defeating Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry remembered how miserable it had been to come away from a fight utterly clueless and lost, only to have so much information hidden from him. 

He also wanted to force Dumbledore’s hand, just a little, in supporting Neville. The man did offer wisdom about what Neville had been through - finally excusing Harry to speak with Neville alone. As Harry went down the spiral staircase, he took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. 

—

The train journey back to King’s Cross was somewhat surreal. It was such a normal, mundane thing. Harry played wizard’s chess with Ron, Hermione read out loud from the Daily Prophet, Luna and Ginny were both reading from the Quibbler. No one bothered them, and Hermione admitted that she had set up a ward on the compartment door to discourage anyone to come in. Similar to the muggle repelling charms.

The oddest thing about it, really, was that he was going to be making his way back to the Dursley’s. It would be the first time he’d seen them since the night of the Dementor attack. Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley would be waiting in the car outside King’s Cross - never bothering to come collect him - to drive him home while making it clear his presence was deeply unwelcome. Perhaps more so than usual, as Vernon had tried very hard to throw Harry out last summer and they had blamed him for what happened to Dudley. 

There was a similar arrangement to last summer - he would be able to go with Remus on the days Petunia allowed. He was going to have to be allowed to go to a few court hearings as well, something he wasn’t looking forward to explaining. Maybe if the Dursleys believed Harry had gotten himself in trouble they’d be more keen to allow him to leave for it.

It was not a surprise when Harry arrived on the platform to find Moody and Tonks waiting for him along with Remus and Padfoot. He noticed Malfoy down the way, glaring absolute daggers at the lot of them. The pale boy took a few steps towards them, but his mother found him quickly and apparated them away. Harry didn’t feel as smug as he had expected to.

Molly and Arthur were near as well, sharing tight hugs with all the children who had gone to the Ministry that night before leaving with a rather sheepish looking Ron and Ginny.  Hermione spotted her parents and gave a far shorter goodbye, rushing over to them and leading them off the platform before they could overhear anything.

Harry and his odd entourage made their way through the barrier and across the station. Despite their best attempts, he found himself brooding as he walked along with them. They got to the main hall of the station, which led through to the outside, and Harry stopped in his tracks - staring in disbelief as he caught sight of Dudley Dursley. Who had also noticed him, then noticed the people he was with and suddenly looked more nervous than Harry realized his cousin was capable of.

His entourage, all trained, noticed immediately and stopped as well. He knew wands were at their fingertips and he just shook his head that it wasn’t needed. He stepped forward uncertainly.

“Alright, Harry?” Dudley said with a lopsided smile, “Thought, er, you might want help with your trunk.” His eyes flicked to the three adults, and dog, who were now openly staring at him.

Harry blinked, not sure how to react. He cast a quick glance at Remus who gave him a small nod, then shrugged and looked back at his cousin, “Yeh, alright, thanks.” He let the larger boy take the trolley, taking Hedwig's cage as he did. 

"They, er, they'll be coming with us to the car," Harry explained, indicating the wix behind them with his thumb.

Dudley swallowed thickly, then nodded as his face went somewhat pale. 

"They're alright, won't hurt you - so long as you're not a tosser," Harry said, biting his cheek.  

His cousin snorted at that and shook his head, "Don't have the best track record with your - er - with -?" He frowned to himself.

"Wix," Harry supplied awkwardly.

Dudley made a face then cleared his throat, "Right.  And you call us, er, muddles?"

"Muggles," Harry said, "But I've heard in Australia they call you 'can't spells'."

Dudley actually huffed out a laugh at that. To Harry’s great surprise, they had found themselves standing off to the side near the entrance. Talking. 

Someone had checked this wasn't a person using polyjuice potion, right?

The aurors and his godfathers were a few feet away, chatting amongst themselves as if they weren't closely monitoring every aspect of the conversation.

"Are they here because you need protection? After last summer?" Dudley asked quietly, looking down at Harry’s trunk. "Mum and dad have been fighting a lot. About whether to let you come back. Mum said you had protection at ours," he grimaced, "They only fight when I'm out. I'll get back and listen through the door. I don't go out so much, after what happened."

Harry nodded dumbly, not sure what to say. Once again he looked at Remus, whose face had turned grim. Tonks was laughing and Moody was grinning, so Harry was fairly sure Remus's expression was in response to what Dudley had just said.

"Yeah, they are," Harry said finally. He pointed to Moody and Tonks, "Those two are aurors, er, they're like police? They catch bad wizards, and help protect people like you." Dudley looked over with some interest, though when he looked at Tonks his cheeks went red and he looked away. "The other two are, erm, my godfathers. They're really good at defensive magic as well."

Dudley raised an eyebrow at him, "One of them is a dog."

"He's not always a dog," Harry said with a small grin. 

Dudley just stared at him for a moment before sucking in a breath, "So the protection thing is true? On our house? And us?"

Harry sent a confused look to the group of adults, and Remus came over, motioning for the other two to remain. Padfoot kept in perfect step with him, eyeing the Dursley boy warily.

"Yes," Remus said simply, "At least over your mother and yourself - the protection is tied to blood, thanks to Lily’s sacrifice that saved Harry’s life."

Dudley stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet as he mumbled, "Mum and dad said they were drunks who died in a car crash."

Padfoot growled and Harry sighed. Remus just pressed his lips into a line, "Yes, that is exactly what I would expect from your parents." Dudley flinched as though he'd been hit.

Chapter Text

Bellatrix was the first in line of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. When her youngest sister was born, this position seemed rather secure. Their mother had struggled with each pregnancy and was unlikely to successfully have another. While she would never admit this, potions to ensure a daughter took a hefty toll on the body. 

Aunt Walburga and her husband, second cousin Orion, also seemed to be barren. Bellatrix would sometimes hear whispers about how they had gone too far, their union too incestuous to produce healthy heirs. Waiting to have children was not done in their world, so each year that passed without a pregnancy announcement brought on gossip and knowing glances.

Their parents ensured their daughters were well trained to run the family. Bellatrix had the lion’s share of training. Andromeda, as spare, was also raised to be able to run the family. Narcissa, as third born, was highly unlikely to become the head of the household and instead they focused more generally on preparing her for entering their world and forming a viable match. The sisters grew up close, however, Cissy was never refused from joining Bella and Andy in their own lessons.

Etiquette, dancing, music, dueling, potions. They were trained by the finest tutors from a very young age. The Black sisters were the envy of their world and sure to bring the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black into a glorious new era.

Then, in Bellatrix’s 9th year, Sirius Black was born.

Her mother was stubborn, hoping that Walburga and Orion’s stock was too weak to survive. Bellatrix continued to be trained to take the role of head of the family, in private now. Then, Regulus had been born. An heir and a spare. 

The Black sisters were forced to face that they had no hope of becoming the heads of their family. The best they could hope was to marry the heirs of other pureblood families, and use their tricks to gain control over their husbands and sons.

Cissy seemed to have the easiest time with this, as it barely impacted her. Bella, however, was livid. The injustice burned in her veins. 

By this time, Voldemort had been ingratiating himself with the highest pureblood families. Bellatrix in particular found his speeches enticing. While the man was obsessed with the supremacy of wix over muggles, he showed little true interest in the aristocratic hierarchy purebloods had created. He would respect it publicly, of course, he had to if he wanted to win their favor. He would smile at the right points, laugh at the right jokes, offer the correct praise and use their titles.

Bella would catch it, though. The tiny hints of a sneer when someone with the 'right breeding' proved themselves to be weak and stupid. The smooth remarks underlain with just a trace of sarcasm. 

When she was 15, he approached her at a dinner party. Whispered in her ear that he knew what an impressive talent she had, how cruel it was for her world to dismiss her simply for her gender, offered to take her under his wing and help her achieve even greater power. Of course, she immediately agreed.

On her seventeenth birthday, she took the Dark Mark.

After graduation, she agreed to marry Rabastan Lestrange. Voldemort had assured her that towing the line for now was important, she would be able to help their cause far more if the high bred families believed she accepted their ways. She was assured that she would still have dominion over her life as his follower, that she would never be forced to be a broodmare.

By that time, there was nothing her Dark Lord could ask of her that Bellatrix would not immediately agree to.

—

Andromeda had always been a good daughter. She loved her sisters and was quite happy to have a more supportive role in the family. She took to her studies well, didn't rock the boat, and quite naturally fell into acting as a buffer between Cissy and Bella. Bella could be too demanding and Cissy was just young enough to struggle to meet the eldest sister's expectations. Their parents were delighted to see their daughters fall into their roles so beautifully.

The first fracture came after Sirius was born. Bella was livid. From the gender announcement during Walburga's pregnancy, she had spent the months pacing her room and looking up curses to ruin the pregnancy that she could get away with casting. Their mother had squashed that - betraying blood in such a way was one of the highest crimes in their world - which only fueled her anger by making her feel helpless. 

Andy was sad for her sister, but secretly excited for a new baby. She and her sisters had been born so close together, and babies in high bred families were often hidden away with the nanny. As this was their cousin, they might be able to see him properly. Andy privately hoped she'd get to hold him, she'd heard babies smell lovely.

Cissy didn't seem to have strong feelings either way, or perhaps she was also hiding her excitement from Bella. Much of those months were spent with Andy and Cissy listening to Bella's rages while the younger sisters made remarks of sympathy and agreement.

Their lessons continued, but a dark cloud was over them. They began to be warned about how much to disclose, coached on how to appear dutifully pleased for the heir that would displace them. Andy did not find this difficult. 

When they were finally invited to meet the new Black heir, the fracture finally became obvious. Bella did nothing more than give the obligatory greeting, allowing the baby to take her finger as she had been instructed, curtsying, and reciting the welcome they had been taught in a hollow voice.

Andy, however, her eyes sparkled when she met the baby. She found her voice turning into a coo, smiling at him. The baby babbled happily and the nanny asked if she wanted to hold him. She was all too delighted to agree.

Bella watched on with a look of utmost betrayal. 

Their relationship was never repaired. Bella would pinch the baby until he cried to make the nanny take him away, and Andy would glare at her and do her best to keep her sister away from the boy. As he grew up to be brash and rebellious, Andy found it endearing while Bella was further incensed that her role had been given to someone who wasn't even suited for it and would take any excuse to 'discipline' him.

Despite both being in Slytherin and only two years apart, at school they only drifted further apart. Andy refused to join the group Bella was part of, refused to engage in tormenting muggle borns, would occasionally even protect some of them - she was accomplished with silent, wandless magic - and would hiss at Bella not to be so harsh when no one could hear. 

Cissy ended up taking the middle path. She would not engage in the behavior Bella did, but would join the group during their more social endeavors. She neither scolded nor lauded. If Andy tried to push her little sister, Cissy would go cold. The two learned to exist together outside of the oncoming war and growing tension. 

Andy was not bold enough to interact with muggle borns while at Hogwarts. Not only would it bring judgment and disdain from her parents, it would bring Bella's wrath on anyone she dared befriend. Instead she spent her time at school silently planning on how to access her inheritance and how to build a career without relying on her family's approval. 

Horace Slughorn, her head of house, was a great ally. He was particularly impressed that one of the notorious Black sisters was not falling for Voldemort's charms even while her family and sister idolized him. Slughorn was a master at the game that Andy found herself playing, no one had realized that Slughorn was not a supporter of Voldemort and he got away with praising muggle born students' achievements and inviting them to his 'Slug Club'.

She found excuses to do extra potions work just to be able to speak with him privately. He helped her make connections and learn how to navigate their world with subtlety and tact, the perfect addition to her upbringing.

A year after graduating she had managed to secure a personal vault with a portion of the Black family fortune. A trifle compared to their full wealth, but a handsome sum by any other measure. She was working with a publishing agency that was as neutral as one could get in the growing tensions, it was not a point of pride for her family but also brought no shame. She flirted just enough with the pureblood heirs to keep her parents off her back.

An owl came from Slughorn, offering to introduce her to a man whose viewpoints he felt Andromeda would find terribly interesting. Having never been steered wrong by him, she was soon meeting with Edward Tonks - not in Diagon Alley or any wix location. No, in a muggle restaurant in London. 

It was the first time she had ever been in the same room as a muggle, much less interacted with them. She was startled by how similar they were to wix. They didn't have the magic, of course, they did so many things the hard way. Yet, watching them move and interact, listening to the conversations - she could not find herself to see how she was supposed to be so superior to them.

The fracture between the Black sisters had finally become deep enough to fully break them apart. Within two years, Andromeda and Ted had gotten married and had a child together. Her name was blasted off the family tapestry. She had never been happier. 

—

Narcissa had always been a quiet, watchful child. Perhaps this came from having two elder sisters. Bella's energy and presence filled the room, and Andy seemed to have a sixth sense for Cissy's needs. There was no point in trying to be the center of attention, not with Bella there, and there was no need to assert herself, not with Andy on her side. 

She was quite young when her cousin was born, she did not fully understand why Bella was so angry and Andy hid her joy. She did not feel a sense of loss at being displaced, her own place hardly seemed to have changed. Once the baby was born, she also did not understand the fuss over the rather wrinkly thing that was unable to play or sing or do anything worth mentioning. 

Their second cousin's arrival was quite similar. Bella had started Hogwarts, so at least they didn't have to endure her rage the entire time, it had grown quite tiresome. She did not share in Andy's excitement, though, and found "playdates" with Siri dreary. He was mobile enough to be a nuisance but still couldn't talk or understand most games. Now there would be two of them.

She was assured he would be more fun as he got older, which couldn't happen soon enough if you asked Cissy.

Regulus was a much calmer and quieter child, though. Almost despite herself, Cissy found herself developing a sense of kinship with him. The older Siri got, the more mischief he got into. The older Reggie got, the more willing he was to sit with Cissy and just watch. 

The affection that Andy had for the boys began to make sense, although Cissy struggled to get along with the boisterous elder brother. She also began noticing how Bella bullied them, and for the first time in her life Cissy found herself disapproving of her eldest sister's actions.

She joined Hogwarts and found herself rather ambivalent to the political tensions. She did not care about muggles or muggle borns, as she had never seen them cause problems for her family. She also was not bothered by those who attacked them. 

Cissy watched as Andy drifted away, at a loss for what to do as her sister became more and more closed off. She also watched as Bella became bolder and more defined in her cruelty, culminating in her joining the Death Eaters. 

She spent time with Bella's group at Hogwarts, which was mostly strategic. The majority of high bred, pureblood heirs had grouped together. Sitting in the common room with Bella and her friends gave Cissy the opportunity to observe potential husbands, see how they treated their paramours, listen to the crude remarks that they'd never share in formal settings. Cissy had never been bothered by the idea of marrying for status, but she would not tolerate a cruel or negligent husband.

A boy in the year above her caught her eye. She watched him carefully for years, winning his affection without letting him realize she returned his interest. Let herself enjoy being courted. His interest in the Dark Lord seemed fairly pragmatic - it was becoming necessary to stand with him to secure familial status. He also did believe that the Dark Lord cared more about protecting pureblood families than the Ministry did.  This was a cause she could embrace, the security of her family and future children was all she had ever cared about.

The year Lucius graduated was the year that the war broke out in earnest. He had to formally declare his allegiance. They were not betrothed, Cissy had not even fully welcomed his advances, yet he still sought her blessing to take the Dark Mark.

He was not afraid or hesitant to take it, but he wanted his wife to have an equal hand in the choices that would impact them - and he had long known he desired no bride other than Narcissa Black.

She would not admit that was the day he had won her heart, but it was.

Chapter Text

The car ride to Privet Drive was awkward. Dudley stared fixedly out the window, Vernon glowered and grumbled under his breath, and Petunia's mouth was pursed into a tight line. Harry half wondered if the conversation with Dudley had actually happened or not. He wasn't sure what to expect when he got home - probably Vernon barking at him to get his things to his room before anyone saw. A stilted dinner, which may not have a reasonable amount of food on his plate, but fortunately he had extra packed in his trunk. The same as it had been every year.

Vernon pulled the car into the driveway and was, as predicted, barking at Harry to get his ruddy trunk in before anyone saw the sort of rubbish he got up to at that school of his. Harry pulled himself out of the car, rolling his eyes as he closed the door, before being accosted by a loud yowling sound and a streak of orange fur charging towards him from out of the Dursleys’ flower bed.

“WHAT IN BLAZES?!" Vernon roared, kicking at the animal who artfully dodged while continuing to yowl plaintively at Harry.

“That - that’s my friend’s cat,” Harry said blankly, staring down in disbelief.  He was quite certain that Crookshanks had been securely in Hermione’s pet carrier when she had hurried her parents off the platform.

“Friend?!” Vernon snapped, “You haven’t got any friends!”

Harry barely managed not to roll his eyes again, “Not here - she lives in London, but nowhere near here…” He looked around for any sign of the Grangers. Or anyone, really, who could justify the cat being here. He looked over at his aunt, who was watching him with wide eyes and a pale face, and Dudley, who looked grim.  His wand was held firmly in his hand.

“DON’T EVEN THINK OF IT BOY–" Vernon bellowed, before Dudley cut him off.

“SHUT IT, dad! He saved my bleeding life last year, so will you stop shouting at him already!” Dudley shouted, stomping around the car and glaring at his father.

Vernon instantly deflated at his precious son taking a harsh tone to him.

“Dudders…?” he asked weakly.

“You all need to go inside. Now. Do not let that cat in,” Harry said quickly, taking advantage of the break in Vernon’s tirade. That was enough to make Petunia take action. The woman had been frozen in place since the yowling had started, and she was now hustling her son and husband into the house with her usual blend of reassurances, offers of treats, and warnings about what the neighbors would think.  Harry was left staring at Crookshanks who was still a cat, but acting more distressed than he’d ever seen the animal act. 

“Stay here,” Harry said tersely, and the animal nodded though his tail was twitching violently.  Harry made his way into the house without letting the animal out of his sight, closing the door and silently praying that the protections on the house meant that as long as whatever was outside the closed door, it wouldn’t be able to force its way in. 

He pulled the mirror out of his pocket and called for his godfathers. Sirius was the one to answer, looking particularly concerned.

“Hermione’s cat - or something that looks like Hermione’s cat - is outside the house,” Harry said, suddenly feeling somewhat foolish but the man immediately looked alarmed.  

“We’ll be right there - don’t let it inside,” Sirius said urgently and the mirror went dark.

“They’d ruddy well not show up-!” Vernon began upon hearing that, but Petunia shushed him harshly. They were in the living room, not out of earshot but mostly out of sight. Harry stayed by the front door, watching the cat through the window with his wand raised.  

Seconds later, the door to Harry’s room opened and two sets of footsteps were rushing down the stairs. He imagined the dichotomy between the two of them would be almost comical to the Dursleys. Sirius appeared to have gotten himself new clothes and was wearing matching slacks and blazer in a deep aubergine over a silk shirt. His hair was perfectly done and his face looked healthier than ever, albeit creased with worry. Remus, meanwhile, was wearing the same shabby overcoat he wore the first day Harry had met him, his hair disheveled and his face worn.

Vernon and Petunia openly boggled at them. Petunia's face then turned red and she glared at Sirius with a look of great dislike, "You! I remember you!" 

"Ta, Tuney, glad I made an impression," Sirius smirked, leaning against the banister.

Remus ignored them, going right to Harry who pointed to the cat which had stayed stock still in the same spot Harry had left him, his tail still flicking angrily.

"Sirius - what's a question I could ask Crookshanks that Pettigrew wouldn't know?" Remus asked, grabbing the man’s attention.

"You think the cat's been an animagus this whole time and we didn't notice? You would have seen it on the map," Sirius pointed out with a frown.

"Question, please," Remus said through gritted teeth.

"Alright, if they are human, ask what Crookshanks stole from the kitchens for me," Sirius said, running a hand through his hair, "The cat never did that."

"Thank you, pet," Remus said with relief, kissing Sirius quickly and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, "With Sirius here - you should be able to use magic without consequence. But even if you can't, the law be damned, protect yourself if it comes to it."

He hugged Harry tightly then was out of the door. The Dursleys had moved towards the window in Vernon's office, watching warily. Sirius was standing in the open doorway, wand at the ready, watching intently. Harry was next to him, their shoulders touching, with a tense hand on his wand.  

Remus was casting spells as he walked, if his wand movements were anything to go by. The shape of a dome over the property briefly appeared before vanishing, then the sounds of the streets stopped. He couldn't hear Remus's footsteps. Harry saw Mrs Dowling from down the way, who had been walking her dog, abruptly turn on her heel and leave hurriedly.

"Protections to keep muggles away and from seeing anything," Sirius muttered, "Trying to maintain the Statute of Secrecy - and also protect them."

Remus reached the cat, stunning it before picking it up by the scruff of the neck without ceremony. He went over to the front of the Dursley’s car, the most hidden part of the pristine garden. Remus knelt down in front of the car, still holding the cat by the scruff.  A wand movement, a flash of light, and a clearly human form was sitting in front of him - obscured from view. All they could make out was a flash of spiky red hair, a black cloak, a thin, pale hand.

Sirius growled, but before he could react the two vanished. The crack of apparition was thoroughly muffled, Harry wouldn't have noticed it if he weren't watching. 

"No! Dammit, you bastard, that was not the plan!" Sirius shouted, smacking his hand against the door frame. Harry looked up in alarm and the Dursleys flinched.

Sirius sat down on the steps behind him and buried his hands in his hair for a moment, cursing under his breath.

"He'll be okay," Harry said, not sure if he meant it.

"Not after I get through with him," Sirius growled, then let out a long, slow breath and nodded, "He wasn't supposed to do that - and if it was someone he recognized, we'd figure it out. If they had the Dark Mark we'd immediately contact the Order. Fuck. Who the hell could it be that he'd do that?"

"Can you find him?"

Sirius laughed mirthlessly, "He's perfected hiding. Be off in the middle of nowhere, may not even be in Britain."

Before Harry could think of anything else to say, a silver wolf leapt through the doorway and stopped in front of Sirius. "I'm sorry, please trust me, don't contact anyone. Harry - please make him a cuppa."

Unlike the other times Harry had seen a patronus sent as a message, it did not immediately vanish, staying next to Sirius for a long moment before finally dissipating. He looked up at Harry and the boy was struck by how tired those grey eyes looked. 

"C'mon," Harry said, offering his hand to help Sirius up. He looked into Vernon’s office, where the Dursleys were sat looking rather shell shocked, "I'll make some for you as well." Petunia's eyes flicked to him, then to Sirius, then she looked away. Vernon was glaring stonily out the window. Dudley looked over at him and muttered a thanks.

—

They arrived in a craggy, rocky outcropping somewhere in Ireland. The charms to bind the man's hands and feet weren't difficult, he had already disarmed him, set up protective wards and shields. All that was left was to wake him up, ask the questions, deal with what came next.

Instead, Remus chewed at his thumb and paced, trying to find an explanation. To make sense of the absolutely insane series of falsehoods he had to be faced with.

Apparently he had taken too long, as he realized the man was watching him with a small sense of amusement.

"Oh, good, we'll actually get somewhere," he said with an actual sigh of relief, "Go on, Lupin, ask me your questions."

Remus hesitated, staring, "What did Crookshanks steal from the kitchens for Sirius Black?"

"His suggestion?"

"Just answer it."

"Nothing. I never went to the kitchens - any kitchens - for him. Not as Crookshanks."

That was not the answer he had wanted and he rubbed his face with his hands, "What's the first book I read to you?"

There was a moment of silence and then, "The Secret Garden."

"Fuck," Remus grumbled, collapsing onto the ground and letting himself take it all in.

It wasn't like when he had first seen Sirius- no gauntness. The man looked impeccably well cared for, better than Remus had ever seen him. His nails were smooth, his cheeks slightly rosey and just a touch plump, complexion flawless. There was a bit of wildness and urgency that must have come from whatever message he had to deliver, whatever message was worth breaking 17 years' silence.

The hair was laughably strange, obviously part of a disguise. Because, really, who could ever associate spiky and brightly ginger hair with Regulus Arcturus Black?

"Three years ago - why didn't you show up on the map?" 

"My brother had a map like that and you're surprised I dedicated myself to becoming untraceable on it?" Regulus asked him.

"Of course," Remus grimaced. They really had been so wrapped up in their own cleverness back then, hadn't they? 

A silence settled over them and when it was clear Remus would not be asking anything else, Regulus jolted forwards, nearly losing his balance with both his wrists and ankles tied, and grabbed Remus’s hands. He looked up into his eyes pleadingly.

"Cissy and Draco - the Dark Lord is furious and he's forcing Draco to take the mark on his 16th birthday," Regulus said quickly, his grasp tightening.

Remus’s eyes widened, "When's his birthday?"

"The 30th."

"That's-"

"9 days."

"How long-?"

Regulus shook his head, "Cissy sent Draco a letter right before he left school, warning him. The Dark Lord blames Lucius entirely for the failure at the Ministry and loss of Bella - and he's going to take his rage out on Cissy and Draco.

"I've been keeping as close an eye on Draco as I dared this year, there weren't signs before now, but the battle…" he sucked in a breath.

"It was bad," Remus nodded grimly.

"I didn't have a way to tell you sooner, not safely. I hoped Harry would tell you first, that you wouldn't go to the Order…"

"And why shouldn't I, Reg? You've been hiding under our nose - spying - for years!" Remus snarled.

Regulus rolled his eyes. The bastard rolled his eyes. 17 years of letting everyone think he was dead, 3 years living as a goddamn student's cat, and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Tell Dumbledore, then," he said, meeting Remus’s gaze evenly. The eyes were wrong, yellow, another part of the disguise, but the look was the same as it had been when they were teenagers.

"Dick," Remus muttered, setting his jaw, "I'm not willing to just trust you. There's something I need to do first."

"Get on with it."

Remus grabbed his arm and with a crack they were in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Regulus blinked at it, likely disoriented to be seeing it through human eyes for the first time in so long. Soon a cup of tea was pressed into his still bound hands. He eyed it, sniffed it and raised an eyebrow at Remus before giving a small nod and drinking it all in one go. 

Within seconds he slumped forwards and Remus caught him, apparating them both to the sitting room where he laid the unconscious body on the couch. He held the man's eyes open with one hand, a somewhat unnerving experience, and with his other hand he pointed his wand and firmly said 'Legilimens'.

He had found, from the more settled wolf packs, that a sleeping potion made the mind more pliant and also made the invasion less traumatic for the person. Not that the ministry cared about such things, so it wasn’t common knowledge. 

He delved into the man's mind.

Living as a cat in an old, muggle woman's home… white fur, lavished with affection, mind nearly completely forgotten his life as a human… the news on the telly - Sirius Black, escaped prisoner, a broken face with familiar eyes… finding a cat to replace himself with, changing his coloration, confunding his way into the Diagon Alley pet shop… his luck at being taken in by Harry Potter's friend… recognizing the rat… finding his brother, shaggy dog, helping him…

Over 20 years ago, noticing his brother with mandrake leaf on his breath… their parents putting greater pressure on Regulus… looking into the animagus process for himself… the night Sirius ran away… being informed over winter break that the Dark Lord had chosen Regulus to receive his mark… 

The Dark Lord demanding Kreacher for a secret mission… Regulus ordering the elf to come back… the elf arriving home, nearly dead, needing to be nursed back to health… Kreacher sharing what happened, learning about horcruxes… the cave, ordering Kreacher to force Regulus to drink the potion, to take then locket and destroy it… agony, begging Kreacher to stop, the elf's tears and apologies, the locket replaced, the Inferi, darkness…

Waking up in a forgotten part of No 12 Grimmauld place… Kreacher had saved him, nursed him… the Dark Lord would kill him… destroy his family… Kreacher's help fooling the tapestry, faking his death…

Sneaking around pureblood manors, gathering evidence, trying to find out how to destroy it, if there are any more… the announcement that the Dark Lord had been vanished, rage from the Death Eaters against the traitorous Peter Pettigrew… news of his brother, condemned to Azkaban, feeling the helplessness and rage and despair at the unfairness of it all…

Finding a muggle woman to take him, as a cat, in… pristine white fur, lavished with affection, he just needed a little time to lay low and rest… that was all… 

Remus broke the legilimency and sat next to the couch with his hand over his mouth, taking it all in. The door creaked open and Kreacher pushed in, glowering at Remus. Then, he noticed the figure on the couch. Recognition immediately filled his eyes, closely followed by the utmost rage.

"THE HALF-BREED HAS ATTACKED YOUNG MASTER!"

"No, Kreacher, I-" but before he could get an explanation out, a powerful force blasted into his chest. He found himself slammed to the ground, but not the floor. No, he was slammed into the grass across from the front door. When he sat up, there was no longer anything between numbers 11 and 13. 

His head was pounding, at least one of his ribs was likely broken, and he couldn't help but give a weak laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Carefully he apparated himself back into Harry’s bedroom in Privet Drive, sending a patronus to request Sirius come upstairs.

—

When the patronus came in for a second time, Sirius gave it an absolutely murderous look. Then it asked him to go back to Harry’s bedroom in the house and he was up the stairs before he had time to form an emotional reaction.

"Let me guess, your genius move has left you injured," Sirius snarled, already with his wand out, "Concussion, cracked sternum, broken ribs - what the hell?"

"I made an error in judgment," Remus agreed, giggling slightly and then wincing.

"You better not have lost the bastard," Sirius growled, beginning the work of healing the ribs.

"This was Kreacher."

Sirius froze for a moment, "How the hell did you get Kreacher to attack you?"

"He thought I'd hurt someone from your family," he replied, grimacing, "Admittedly I had them unconscious and tied up."

"Narcissa?" Sirius asked, perplexed, trying to remember who was close enough blood for Kreacher to actually care - and who would possibly have the reason to impersonate Hermione’s cat.

Remus sucked a breath in through his teeth then laughed, placing a hand over his eyes, "It's Regulus - Regulus Arcturus Black has been living as a goddamned housecat for 17 years!"

"Don't joke about that, Remus," Sirius said harshly.

They didn't say anything as Sirius continued the healing spells. He wasn't as good as Madam Pomfrey, and was out of practice, but it would do. 

Once he finished that he sat back on his heels, "You're not joking."

"I wish I was," he said, rubbing his temple, "I don't think you got the concussion well."

"Serves you right," Sirius grumbled, kissing Remus’s forehead, “What’s he want, then, to show up here?”

“Voldemort is taking the failure at the ministry out on the Malfoys - specifically Narcissa and Draco,” he said quietly, “Draco’s to take the Dark Mark in just over a week, on his birthday.”

Sirius glowered, “Really? 17 years and his first contact is begging help for the blood supremacists? Narcissa made her choice when she married that prat.”

“Draco’s still a child,” Remus said softly.

“He’s 16! That’s the age I ran away. What’s stopping him?” Sirius snorted derisively. 

“Voldemort threatening the life of a mother he actually loves.”

“I always knew he was a damn coward - I can’t believe he’d sink so low. Hiding as a pet for almost two decades…” Sirius sneered, crossing his arms, crossing his arms, “Couldn’t even just come out and ask us directly - had to show up at Harry’s as a freaking cat.”

“Sirius - come here, let me show you what he’s been through,” Remus said, tapping next to his eyes. Passing on memories of someone else’s memories through legilimency wasn’t ideal. It came out foggy. It certainly wouldn’t hold up in a trial, but it was enough for now. With another grumble, Sirius obliged, falling into the mist of the memories - and came out feeling absolutely wrecked. 

He was still angry, so angry, that his brother had let him believe he’d been dead for 17 years. Had never revealed himself to him, even after Sirius’s escape from Azkaban after helping him with Pettigrew. Did he really think Sirius couldn’t keep a secret? Wouldn’t die to protect him? 

Then, the thought of his little brother defying Voldemort - alone. Walking knowingly to his death, only alive because the godforsaken house elf Sirius had spent the last year shouting at saved him. The thought of asking Sirius for help probably never even crossed his mind, so resigned to the fact he had no allies. Would Sirius have even given his brother the time of day, back then, if he’d asked? And Sirius had spent the last 20 years calling him a coward.

The anger was easier, it hurt less, but he was no longer the teenager who would wear his rage like a shield.

“I didn’t know,” he croaked.

“None of us did,” Remus agreed sadly, pulling Sirius into him, he snorted, “I doubt Voldemort even knows the truth - I’m pretty sure that was the same locket we found last summer. I can’t imagine the Dark Lord would have just let it sit in your parents’ parlor if he’d known it had been taken.”

“Why doesn’t he trust me now?” 

Remus sighed, “You’ll have to ask him. I suspect, though, that he didn’t want to risk losing you again - these last three years, well, you’ve been on better terms than you have since he was sorted into Slytherin.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Sirius grumbled, “He’s been eating cat food, Moonshine.”

"Yes, but the cat food you buy is higher quality than middle class humans eat," Remus pointed out with a soft laugh, he sighed wistfully, "I completely understand the idea of losing yourself in the animagus. You know it's a fear of my own. Unless you think gourmet cat food is somehow beneath steaming, bleeding entrails."

"Worked for Luke Skywalker."

Remus snorted and shook his head, "You don't have to be involved - but I'm going to help him, I'm hoping Andy will as well."

"I'm not doing anything to risk the appeal," Sirius said firmly.

"No, you're absolutely not," Remus agreed, finally sitting up with a bit of a wince, "Alright. I would ask what we should trust him with, but that's rather out of our hands. Instead - how much are we telling Harry?"

Sirius looked up at him, "Leaving that up to me?"

"It's your brother."

Sirius snorted, wanting to snap that it didn't seem to matter when Remus was breaking the plan and leaving without any explanation. It had probably been for the best, though, Sirius would not have reacted well to a cat turning into his long dead brother. Spending some time coming to terms with it before facing him was probably for the best. 

"We'll tell him everything.  If anyone needs to know about the damn horcrux - it's him," Sirius said decisively, standing up and offering a hand to help him up.

—

The mood downstairs probably should have been tense. For Petunia and Vernon it likely was. Vernon had turned on the television, which he set on an unreasonable volume that would normally have Petunia fussing about what the neighbors would think. Petunia was flicking through one of her home and garden magazines, her jaw tense.

Dudley was continuing with his incredibly unexpected willingness to not only speak to Harry like a human being, but show an open interest in magic. Which Harry found too fascinating to be worried over. They ended up discussing the wards that Remus had put up, Dudley seemed genuinely impressed by how gentle the muggle deterring charm and muffliato were, which veered into Dudley asking about personal protections. 

"Is there anything he can set up on us? Me, mum, and dad, I mean."

"There- er, well, our world is honestly rubbish at thinking about muggles," Harry admitted sheepishly, "Ministry thinks you'll be safe if we just keep you in the dark," he grimaced, "Remus should know. I hope."

"Keepin' us in the dark?" his cousin asked, raising an eyebrow, "Worked great last year."

"Hasn't turned out too well for me, either," Harry said grimly.

Footsteps on the staircase ended their conversation. Petunia looked over long enough to confirm no one else had arrived before looking back down at her magazine. Her knuckles had gone white.

Sirius gave Harry the most sarcastic thumbs up he had seen in his life, while Remus eyed Vernon’s liquor cabinet. 

"Well it was Crookshanks," Remus said, shaking his head, "No reason to believe it's related to any other scheme or attack - there's also nothing amiss at the Granger household."

"We'll tell you everything later," Sirius added, rubbing his forehead and leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"...Right," Harry said, frowning, "Er - Dudley asked if there's any protections you can put on them individually, not just the house."

"Hm? Yes, yes, of course," Remus said, "The ones your mother placed may still be there, she was a very talented witch."

"Mum's sister protected us?" Dudley asked, furrowing his brow.

"Of course, she was terribly worried about you all," Remus replied simply. Harry glanced over to see Vernon’s face going a shade of puce while Petunia had brought the magazine up to hide her face. Her shoulders shook ever so slightly.

"Er- you got any proof?" Dudley asked, looking a bit peaky but meeting the man's gaze without difficulty, a lifetime of overly bolstered confidence backing him up.

Remus glanced over at Harry, who nodded, then gave the boy a bitter smile, "I kept many of her letters, Lily forwarded me a few of the ones your parents had sent her as well, when she needed comfort. I'll see what I can find."

"Oh, Diddums, I'm sure you wouldn't want to see those old things…" Petunia said, coming over quickly and fluttering her hands anxiously.

"Actually, mum, I really would," he said firmly, and her face went pale.

"The one you arranged to arrive on the day of her wedding is particularly moving," Remus said, looking at her with a smile that was all teeth.

"That was so long ago…" she managed, placing a hand to her chest and swallowing thickly. 

"You'd prefer the one in response to the birth announcement?"

Petunia made a choked noise and Harry leaned forward, quite interested.

"You will not upset my wife in my house!" Vernon growled, storming over, "We don't need your damn protection and I don't want that boy," he shoved a finger in Harry’s direction, "in this house a minute longer than he has to be!"

"No one wants that," Sirius said icily, finally interrupting, "Frankly if it weren't for the risk that you lot would be murdered once the protection ended - I'd be quite happy to keep him away. We're not worried about protecting him."

"Vernon," Petunia said sharply, "Think about Dudley!"

"I wanted this nonsense stamped out," Vernon growled, "It was bad enough having to take in that low life paki's brat-"

"Dad! Shut up! I've lost mates because of that bollocks! I warned you not to start it again!" Dudley roared, getting in his father's face. Days away from his 16th birthday combined with two years of boxing meant that Dudley Dursley was almost as tall as his father, and considerably stronger. 

It was quite predictable that there would come a day when Dudley Dursley could overpower his parents. Even as a toddler, McGonagall had caught him bullying Petunia to get his way, and he had properly grown larger than the frail woman could physically handle well before his tenth birthday. 

The Dursleys had never been concerned by this, of course. Their parenting method had relied almost entirely on giving Dudley everything he wanted. The diet they were forced to put Dudley on at 14 had been the first real hurdle, but the nurse had done most of the parenting there and they had the ability to point out how much less they were feeding Harry. 

For the past year they had no longer been able to throw Harry under the bus to appease Dudley. The dementors had forced him to face himself in a horrible way, and he had not liked what he'd seen. 

To make matters worse, his schoolmates were maturing and his friends from different backgrounds were no longer willing to put up with Vernon and his incredibly racist "jokes" and comments. Dudley found himself losing friends due to his parents' beliefs, and in response Vernon had been digging his heels in about that lot. Petunia did her best to distract the two of them - cooking more desserts, driving Dudley and his friends to various places, encouraging Vernon to take up hobbies and go out with his own friends to distract him from the situation with their son. 

They had come to something of a comfortable truce during the school year, but the approach of summer and arrival of a certain brown skinned wizard had promised to bring it all back to the forefront. 

After Dudley's outburst, the room seemed to freeze. Petunia looked at a complete loss for how to respond, Sirius was watching with a bemused smile, and Harry was utterly gobsmacked. 

"Alright, so, we've established no one wants Harry to be here, but thanks to some magical nonsense he has to live here for a month - so you'll have no issue with us picking him up each day so he's out of your hair?" Sirius said with a grin, clapping his hands. The Dursleys startled, looking up at him in surprise.

"If you think I want your kind sniffing around my front door-" Vernon growled.

"No, no, we'll pick him up from his bedroom, leave him there, no need to see him really," Sirius interrupted, flashing him a dashing smile and clapping him on the back. Vernon’s eyes bulged and he looked positively murderous.

"Brilliant- now I've got an unexpected houseguest, terribly inconvenient I'm sure you'll agree, so we'll be out of your hair," he finished, gesturing to Harry, "Get your trunk and Hedwig, we'll be off."

"Wait - the protection," Dudley interrupted.

"Yes, I'll handle that," Remus said, taking out his wand and muttering an enchantment while waving it over Dudley, "That will give you the ability to sense dark creatures - such as the ones that attacked you last year - if you feel a sudden, intense urge to leave an area? Do so."

Dudley nodded, eyes wide. The same was offered to Vernon and Petunia who declined with varying degrees of politeness.

"Why haven't you taught me that spell?" Harry asked, dragging his trunk in from the car.

"It only works on muggles," Remus replied with a shrug, "You can't use magic on your own outside school."

"Only works on muggles?" Sirius asked, helping Harry get the trunk up the stairs to his bedroom. Neither seemed bothered with a levitation spell.

"Mhm, da invented it to protect mam - they met when she was attacked by a bogart," Remus explained to Harry, "Don't know why it only works on muggles but he never had any reason to change it, felt wix needed to learn to defend themselves. He published it once but it isn't something our world particularly cares about."

"Have you told Hermione? She's really scared for her parents," Harry pointed out.

Remus blinked at him and rolled his lips together, shaking his head, "No - I suppose I've quite dropped the ball there, I just assumed the Order would handle it. I'll fix that while we handle the Crookshanks ordeal."

—

'The Crookshanks ordeal' was quite well settled in the sitting room of No 12 Grimmauld Place. Kreacher had missed him terribly and was perking up quickly, gleeful to have someone he actually wanted to dote on. Regulus was glad, the most difficult part of maintaining his secret had been watching his brother's mistreatment of the house elf. 

It had surprised him that the muggle born had been the most vocal about house elves deserving better treatment, perhaps it shouldn't have. For two years he had watched her advocate for a cause that had no direct impact on her. She had not been raised by an elf, yet she saw something seriously wrong in their treatment and took action despite her peers' mockery.

Remarkable young witch, he had been fortunate in that respect. Being taken in by Hermione Granger had turned out to be a stroke of such unbelievable coincidence that Regulus was nearly prepared to believe he had stumbled into good luck.

Good luck which may have run out. Due to the limitations of a house elf's enslavement, Kreacher was still beholden to Sirius and could not follow Regulus's requests, or orders, beyond certain loopholes. Regulus would not have the elf punishing himself, so despite Kreacher's offers to defy his master- it was a decidedly last resort.

He was confident that, left to his own devices, Lupin would help him. Lupin was decidedly not on his own, though, and as wonderful as this was for the formerly lone lycanthrope - it threw a spanner into the works. 

Regulus did not know how Sirius would respond. He hadn't known for over 20 years, when his brother had been sorted into Gryffindor and came home gushing about James Potter and became openly disappointed and distant when Regulus had become a Slytherin. 

He curled up with a cup of unadulterated tea, a plate of macarons that Kreacher had lovingly provided hovering next to him, and waited.

In the middle of their conversation, Kreacher's face soured and he bit out, "Master has returned with the half breed and Potter boy."

"You shouldn't call him a half breed," Regulus said softly, "Thank you, Kreacher, I don't think you need to be around them if you don't want to."

Kreacher bowed deeply before vanishing. Still, Regulus waited. Internally he felt like he was about to go out of his skin, nervous and tense, but he had been raised to hide his emotions and it was a training he had never abandoned so he remained the perfect image of poise even at the sound of footsteps on the staircase.

"Alright, Reg," Remus said, leaning on the doorway, "C'mon down to the kitchen and we'll figure out how to help him. Don't be too nervous- we'll find a way."

"I'm not nervous," he replied coldly and the werewolf only gave him a fond, amused smile. Regulus refused to smile at the warm familiarity of it.

They went down the stairs, Regulus primarily moving thanks to the deeply embedded sense of propriety. He did not feel prepared to face his brother, he had come to the conclusion he never would. He had glamored his hair and eyes back to their natural state. It wasn't permanent, he would need a potion for that, but at least he looked like himself and didn't risk enduring taunting over his odd coloration.

While it worked well enough as a cat, ginger really was not his color. 

Remus sped up on the last few stairs, slipping into the kitchen and bodily shoving Sirius into the hallway before closing the door. The two brothers glared at the now shut door. At least in irritation at the meddling they were equally matched. 

Then they faced each other. Regulus froze, bracing himself for anger. His hand twitched, wanting to hold his wand but Remus had not returned it. 

Sirius stormed over to him, shoving his way onto the same step Regulus was on, then pulled him into a tight embrace. 

"I should have been there, Reggie," he said, one hand cradling Regulus's head and the other bunching into the back of his robes.

Regulus was still frozen, eyes wide and staring at the wallpaper across from them. Still the same garish pattern it had been in their childhood. Once he processed the situation he cautiously wrapped his own arms around his brother, slowly leaning his head onto his shoulder. 

They hadn't hugged properly since Regulus was 14. It felt strange. Regulus was slightly taller now, something he hadn't noticed happening - the last growth spurt had come after they'd been fully separated. It felt wrong. Sirius was still broader, though, strong shoulders and muscles that came from his habit of doing menial tasks the muggle way. And, at his age and after the time in Azkaban, likely from effort to maintain the physique.

He didn't smell the same, either, no longer a child. No longer a teenager wearing obnoxiously overpowering 'cologne', if it could even be called that. Now an adult who had learned subtlety and, Regulus knew, was focused on pleasing an overly sensitive werewolf's nose.

Regulus wondered briefly what it was like for Sirius, how he had changed over the years. 

"I wish you'd told me - about the cave and the horcrux," the word sounded strange in his mouth, clearly new. Then his brother let out a long sigh and pulled away, "I wish I could say I'd have been there for you."

The two brothers looked at each other, and Regulus just nodded, surprised by Sirius’s apparent self awareness. When he said nothing, his brother's face fell and they made their way into the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Harry’s first thought upon seeing Regulus Black was that the man looked like a cross between Sirius and Draco Malfoy’s mum. Which made sense, but it drove home that Sirius and the Malfoys were related in a way that made him uncomfortable. It was the attitude, mostly, the few times Harry had seen Narcissa she carried herself with an unmissable air of wealth and status. Emotions did not cross her face. Regulus was also more willowy, the way Narcissa was, but ultimately the difference was that of demeanor.

The Malfoys were what Sirius had been expected to be. It was so incredibly far from his godfather that the realization made his skin crawl.

Regulus walked into the room and positioned himself behind a chair, hands resting on its back. Sirius slunk into the room behind him, hands stuffed in his pockets, sitting down next to Harry and ruffling his hair with a defeated smile. Harry pursed his lips but Remus looked pleased.

"So. Shall we assume you haven't spoken to Narcissa yet?" Remus asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No, I would rather the Dark Lord not find out I'm alive," Regulus said, his body tensing. Sirius snorted derisively.

"I've only ever heard Death Eaters call him that," Harry muttered, frowning. He caught the muscle in the man's jaw tensing for a moment.

"We're telling Andromeda," Remus said, "Honestly we should have brought her here already - Kreacher threw me off, I should have known better."

"If she's still with her muggle born, she won't be having him over for tea the way the Malfoys do," Regulus agreed wryly.

"Watch it," Sirius growled.

"Watch what, exactly? I said muggle born - that's what he is, or has the terminology changed?" Regulus asked coolly.

Sirius glowered at him, "Her muggle born? He's not a thing she owns."

"You can hardly complain, Remus calls you his pet," Regulus sneered.

Sirius stood up and Remus placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, watching them with a strangely fond expression. 

"That's not the same and you know it!"

"Isn't it? Explain then. It seems you continue taking everything I say in the worst way."

"You say everything in the worst way!"

Remus leaned over and quietly asked, "Harry - would you like to meet Tonks’s mother?"

"Should we leave them like this?" Harry asked.

"It's not like Snape," he said softly.

"Sure looks like it," Harry grumbled, but when Remus stood up and let them know they'd be visiting Andy, he followed. The two brothers looked at them, somewhat startled, and nodded as Remus apparated them to the Tonkses' doorstep.

—

It had been a difficult week for the Tonkses. Now that the world had accepted Voldemort's return, attacks on muggles and muggle borns were increasing. Their child, both an auror and Order member, was going to be placed in harm’s way. There were people who would target them because of who Ted was, and also because of the family Andromeda had been born into.

They had faced this before, getting married and having a child during the war. It was worse back then, because Andromeda had openly turned "blood traitor" and so many were keen to win approval. Fortunately, being raised in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black meant knowing quite a few tricks to protect and defend one's home and family.

The protections on their home were strong. Their child had been well trained, and being a metamorphmagus meant greater protections than could be taught. It was still difficult. Ted went out and met up with the other muggle borns they knew and did his best to set up wards on muggle settlements. It would never be enough, but it was something. 

When Remus and Harry had arrived on their doorstep, Andromeda had allowed herself a moment to be hopeful it was good news. The introductions were pleasant enough, aside from Harry's initial look of horror thanks to her similarity to her sister. The boy had just battled her, and watched her die, so she let that brush off. It was why when she had to go out she always tamed her hair and pulled it back tightly, then used makeup and glamors to accentuate the differences.

She also couldn't deny the flutter of excitement to be in the presence of the Boy Who Lived, who had held his own against the Dark Lord just a week ago. She knew better than to show it, though, instead chatting about everything her child had said about the boy. He looked pleased, and slightly embarrassed, by that.

Of course, it had been too much to hope for just a simple, pleasant visit. 

"I'm sorry," Remus had began after he pulled her to the side and explained he had news , the way he said it set her teeth on edge, and a request. "We… today… well," he grimaced and she gave him thirty seconds before she would snap at him to spit it out, "Regulus-" Remus looked directly into her eyes, "is alive."

"Reggie?" she asked, choking on the word. Her first instinct was disbelief, and without thinking she pressed into Remus’s mind with legilimency. After an initial startled resistance, he allowed it, and she saw. Saw Remus revealing the massive, orange ball of fluff as a disguised Regulus. The questions to confirm identity, the memories.

She pulled back then, tears properly falling down her face. Remus pressed a handkerchief into her hand and she allowed herself something that was the result of nearly 25 years as a Tonks - she sobbed openly. Remus shifted so he could rub soothing circles on her back, otherwise waited in silence for her. 

"I shouldn't have done that," Andromeda said finally, wiping her face. Remus pressed a glass of water into her hands and smiled at her. "I don't - not anymore."

"I understand," he said softly, "If you'd asked I would have allowed it."

She gave a watery chuckle, "I didn't ask, though, goodness I can't stand when the Black slips out…" she shook her head, not willing to meet his gaze after the intrusion. It felt more respectful to avoid eye contact. "You mentioned a request - does he need a place to stay?"

"Er, no, I imagine he'll be staying at Grimmauld Place - Kreacher is over the moon to see him," Remus said, and she laughed softly at the memory of Kreacher doting on the boy. Remus looked at her and she finally met his eyes again when she realized how grim his face was, "Voldemort blames Lucius for the failure at the Ministry. He wants Draco to take the mark on his 16th birthday - Regulus wants to stop that from happening."

Andromeda closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out very slowly. "Oh, Cissy," she whispered.

"We understand if you aren't comfortable-" he began and she cut him off with a steely glare.

"I did not abandon my family, and do not intend to do so now," she said firmly.

—

They returned to Grimmauld Place via the floo, arriving in the sitting room. The house was silent and Remus poked his head into the hallway, listening for a moment.

"There's a silencing charm on the library," he told Harry, tilting his head, "You've been rather dragged into this - what would you like to do now?"

"Make sure Sirius is okay," Harry said coolly, arms crossed and glaring at him.

"Should be in the library, shall I assume you want me to go with?" He got a terse nod in response and they made their way up. 

The door to the library was fortunately unlocked and opened easily. The room was massive and bleak, all dark grey stone and ebony shelves covered with ancient tomes. A considerable number of which were cursed. Quite a few reacted to blood status as well. The air hang heavy with dark magic. It was one room they had never had to touch, whatever protections were on the library kept it from gathering dust or mold and also kept the dark creatures that had infested the house out. 

Whatever spells kept out doxies and bogarts seemed to dislike werewolves as well, Remus had always found the room vaguely threatening.

In the center was a long table underneath an ornate chandelier hung high from the ceiling. The two brothers were both sat at it, a pensieve in front of them glowing silver from new memories. A few books and piles of parchment were spread across their area, a quill floating above an ink pot.

Sirius sat up straight when they came in, flashing a bright smile at Harry before glowering at Remus, "You still have my brother's wand and he got hurt."

"Meaning you hexed him without thinking," Remus replied.

"If he'd had his wand he would have deflected it easily," Sirius pointed out, a protective hand on his brother's shoulder. 

"Yes, 17 years without practice does wonders for the reflexes," Regulus noted. 

"Right - it's late, it has been a day, what does everyone want for tea?" Remus asked, rubbing his forehead.

"Kreacher's handling it, he'll tell us when it's ready, he's even set up the dining room," Regulus said, frowning at the parchment in front of him. 

"So that's why he's singing in the kitchen…" Remus mused, shaking his head and sitting down in the chair closest to the door, laying his head in his arms.

Harry hovered in the doorway, his head tilted to the side and a frown on his face. "So… you two are… okay now?"

Sirius shrugged, Regulus glanced over, "There are more important issues than petty grudges." Sirius grumbled in response.

"The horcrux," Harry said, taking the seat next to Sirius and looking over the parchment.

"Mmm, yes, the fact Kreacher couldn't figure out how to destroy it is concerning," Regulus muttered, "I've been dragging back my old memories - I don't think it was the only one," he clenched his jaw, "I shouldn't have wasted that time, he may not have been able to come back if I'd…" he growled under his breath.

"So far we're pretty sure Bella and Lucius were given one to guard," Sirius said, “And are hoping that there’s 3 total - 3 is a pretty important number in magic.”

"Yes, I was able to skulk around their homes for a few years - a well pedigreed black cat doesn't raise suspicion, there's enough in our world," Regulus explained to Harry’s incredulous expression, "Lucius did not appreciate his task - grumbled mightily about how some mudblood's schoolbook could possibly be related to Salazar's Chamber of Secrets…"

"Tom Riddle's diary?" Harry asked, leaning forward, "Of course - that's how he could talk through it… and possess Ginny…"

Regulus stared at him, "I beg your pardon?"

So Harry regaled them with the tale of his second year. The fight between Lucius and Arthur at the bookstore, when Lucius slipped the diary into Ginny’s cauldron, the attacks on the students, Harry’s own experience having it, the fight against the basilisk.

"A basilisk fang destroyed it?" Regulus asked eagerly, "Basilisk venom! That can destroy horcruxes!" The floating quill went to the bottom of the nearest parchment, quickly scribbling 'BASILISK VENOM' and underlining it.

"I guess so," Harry said with a shrug.

The victorious grin quickly fell as the story sunk in, though, and Regulus buried his face in his hands, laughing darkly, "By the ancestors… Lucius Malfoy gave Lord Voldemort's Horcrux to an eleven year old witch out of a petty grudge and let it get destroyed. Cissy and Draco are done for."

"In his defense, it was just some old diary with a muggle name on it - hardly something ol' Lucy would think worth keeping around," Sirius sneered before shaking his head, "We'll keep them safe, if they want to be. Andy's probably going to talk to them tomorrow." 

"I need to make sure she doesn't tell them about me," Regulus said, pursing his lips, "I remember when I was his age, I don't trust Draco not to fold."

"You're still going to help him, though?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"He's family," Regulus said, "and a child. I will not gamble my survival on a spoilt child who's in over his head, nor will I abandon him for his father's sins." He smiled fondly, "Cissy would sell me out in a second to save her son, I don't blame her for that."

Harry gave Sirius a rather helpless look and his godfather just shrugged, "It's how things are in this world. There's a reason I got out." 

"Would Voldemort really make Draco a Death Eater at 16?" Harry asked quietly.

"He prefers not to - 16 year olds are terribly useless thanks to the Trace and not knowing how to apparate," Regulus explained as if it were as casual a subject as when to let a child adopt a pet. "He has a thing for the number 7 as well, I believe he was quite delighted when Bella took her mark on her 17th birthday."

"Thank Merlin we didn't have to attend the actual ceremony," Sirius muttered darkly, "Had to attend the celebratory dinner after."

"Do you think she ever stopped looking at him with those lovesick eyes?" Regulus asked with a grimace. 

"So she was always like that," Harry said bitterly, and Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"The Dark Lord is quite dramatic. He'll work in the shadows when he needs to - but, really, he could have arranged for you to unknowingly touch a port key at any point in your fourth year. He wanted to make a statement by using the cup," Regulus said, going back to the point, "So when he wishes to prove his control over a certain family - he'll demand their heir earlier."

"Why wait until 16?"

"Truthfully, the only times I'm aware of it happening was when the heir in question was 15. Sirius was meant to take the mark New Year's Day 1977, which was right after my 16th birthday, but he ran away the summer before," he frowned, "Odd coincidence, really, Draco being 15 now."

"I didn't know - I thought we'd have more time," Sirius growled, clenching his hands into tight fists on the table. Regulus waved the comment away, it was a conversation that wasn't worth having right now.

"It's good Dumbledore’s better for that. He won't let anyone join the Order until they've come of age and graduated," Harry said, remembering how bitter he had felt over that last year, and how upset the Weasley twins were as well.

An oddly tense silence followed this statement, and Harry was surprised to find his godfather staring grimly at Remus while Regulus glared murderously into space. Harry buried his face in his hands and grumbled darkly.

"It's all for the greater good, dear, he has his reasons," Regulus pointed out sarcastically, picking up the wand Sirius had been using for the past year and flicking it to bring some books to the desk, "Although he hasn't been as eager to this time, I think Tonks and Bill Weasley may be the only new recruits."

"Hopefully figured out it was a terrible idea," Sirius said.

"I wonder if he'll actually grant asylum to his students who don't want to take the mark, rather than trying to turn them into spies, now that he has Severus," Regulus mused, running a hand over his forearm. 

Sirius looked at his brother, disgruntled, but before he could say anything, Kreacher entered the room. The elf ignored everyone except Regulus, bowing low and announcing that dinner was served. 

—

After she had seen off her unexpected guests, Andromeda mentally kicked herself. In all her own worries, she'd half forgotten her sister. While she didn't frequently hear from Narcissa - Bella had just recently died. It was, for Andromeda, the least noteworthy event of the past year. She had mourned her sister long ago.

Still she had sat down and robotically written out the expected letter containing sorrows and prayers to Narcissa, sending it on with a tasteful arrangement of funerary flowers.

Etiquette, and their particular relationship, dictated that Narcissa should have replied even with just a curt thank you note. 

Nothing that Narcissa did was without purpose and meaning. Skipping an expected message said as much as the message itself would have. Outside observers would think nothing of Narcissa Malfoy refusing to acknowledge her disowned sister's letter - a particularly valuable opportunity.

Her sister almost certainly needed help, and Andromeda had been too wrapped up in hypothetical dangers to notice the very real one.

She knew, now, that she was human and allowed to make mistakes. That was perhaps the hardest lesson for Ted to get through to her, all those years ago. With smaller things, like broken dishes and burnt cakes, she could laugh about it now, taking a certain pleasure in the freedom of knowing that she was allowed to be imperfect. Early motherhood had been a terrifying journey of learning how to allow her family to be imperfect, of celebrating grass stained knees and muddy shirts.

Letting down her sister was something else entirely. 

It was late in the day, now, she would need to wait until tomorrow. She knew what to do. The most difficult part was making peace with the one truth that had been the greatest struggle - she could not force her family to accept her help or change. 

This request was coming through Regulus, who likely did not know for sure that Narcissa would accept help. Andromeda had every hope, but her hopes had often been dashed. She would do her best, but if Narcissa was determined to stay and offer her son to the Dark Lord- all Andromeda could do was watch on in horror.

That was not the Narcissa she had known, though. While she happily lapped up the blood purity nonsense, it had always been a means to an end. Family was Narcissa's priority. The prosperity, protection, and progress of her own bloodline.  

20 years ago, Sirius ran and Voldemort took it as an opportunity to demand the Black family offer their only heir as proof of their allegiance. Then, months after leaving Hogwarts, Regulus was lost.

That ought to have been a wake up call for the blood purist families, but they were a cutthroat lot and were delighted for the fall of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Bellatrix took a vindictive pleasure in it, Andromeda had already been disowned, and Narcissa held her silence on any opinions about it. Lucius seemed to step into the vacancy left, further securing the Malfoy family's position and power. It almost felt intentional that Draco was conceived so close to when Regulus disappeared.

Regardless of her feelings on Regulus, it was not likely that Narcissa would allow the House of Malfoy to be next to fall.

—

The next day, Andromeda pulled out appropriate robes for grieving. It was something she appreciated about leaving their world - grief didn't have to be performative. When she got news a loved one had died, after the funeral she was allowed to curl up at home and cry. The only people who visited were supportive and understanding, and usually had casseroles.

The muggle obsession with casseroles for events like birth and death was endearing, if odd.

She dressed and prepared herself, feeling like she was putting on armor and preparing for battle. In a sense, she was. 

For the first time in decades, she found herself entering the grounds of Malfoy Manor. It was an imposing building that made liberal use of black marble and silver, gleaming in the sunlight. The grounds were immaculately manicured in the French style many high bred wix preferred. Perfect symmetry, perfectly shaped hedges, impeccable order imposed over nature. Albino peacocks strutted around the grounds, the perfect symbol of Malfoy pride and preening.

The door knocker was a massive affair, two drakes carved in obsidian and inlaid with silver and emeralds. It was too heavy for any human to lift, demanding magic use. Andromeda could not imagine any muggle having cause to visit, but they certainly made a statement.

Exactly 45 seconds after Andromeda knocked, the door opened. An unfamiliar house elf bowed then eyed the newcomer warily.

"Mistress is grieving," she said in a squeaky voice.

"I am her sister and wish to grieve our fallen Bellatrix with her," Andromeda responded.

The elf raised an eyebrow but opened the door all the way and gestured for Andromeda to wait in the entryway before vanishing. Moments later she reappeared, bowing deeply and offering apologies before leading Andromeda into the parlor. After supplying coffee and finger sandwiches, the elf again bowed before leaving Andromeda alone.  

It was not long before Narcissa entered the room. She was put together perfectly, as always. If Andromeda had not been looking closely, she would have easily missed the hints of glamor under her sister's eyes and cheeks. The extra tension around her mouth.

"You shouldn't have come here, it's not safe," Narcissa said calmly, not sitting down. 

Andromeda stood but did not move closer, meeting her gaze, "The Dark Lord intends for your son to take the Dark Mark." The muscle in Narcissa's jaw twitched, and Andromeda stepped towards her, "I can help you, Cissy, if you'll allow it."

Her sister shuddered and closed her eyes, "How do you know?"

"That doesn't matter right now," she said softly, because it was the truth. She also couldn't tell her, Andromeda had no reason to endanger her cousin like that. 

"Do you honestly believe you can protect us from his wrath?" she asked, her eyes open - accusing, searching, pleading. Andromeda wanted to smile, but knew better.

"I've been protecting my family from his wrath since I chose Ted," she reminded her, "We have allies who can protect you."

"Dumbledore?" Narcissa spat venomously.

Andromeda laughed bitterly, "No. I have never approved of his methods."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow and finally gestured for her sister to sit down, taking her own place in a plush, velvet sage green armchair. 

Chapter Text

'Hermione,

Sorry if this gets to you late, I didn't have the chance to write earlier. I imagine you're looking for Crookshanks - he showed up at my aunt + uncle's. He's currently being pampered at Snuffle's.

Remus asked if your parents would have us over for dinner - there's protections he can set up on them and their home, if you'd like. He can do it without their knowledge but prefers not to.

Today has been a mess but I don't have to spend any days (just nights) at Privet Drive so we might be able to invite you over sooner.

-Harry

P.S. How is your mandrake leaf doing? I still can't believe Madam Pomfrey didn't notice.'

—

'Dear Ron + Ginny,

How is it being the only kids at the Burrow? Is your mum enjoying the calm or does she miss Fred + George's chaos?

Today has gone mad. Everyone's okay, I'll tell you when I can. But I only have to be at Privet Drive for nights this summer so I'll be able to see you more often.

Yours,
Harry

—

Harry,

THANK YOU!! Crookshanks disappeared outside King’s Cross and I've been absolutely devastated. We spent hours looking for him. I imagine he found a way to sneak into the car with you. I suppose I can't be terribly surprised, over the past year he's been more fond of Snuffles than me, almost like he's not my cat anymore.

Thank you for letting me know he's safe!!

Can you and Remus come over for dinner this Friday at 6? Remus was raised by a muggle, right? It would be lovely to have wix over that know how to talk to muggles. 

Please don't tell them about the need for protection. I don't want them to be afraid, or stop me from going to Hogwarts. I know I'm nearly 17, but in the muggle world I'm not an adult until I'm 18 - they might be able to keep me home until then.

-Hermione

P.S. It's going well, although I certainly can't wait for it to be over. I hope Remus doesn't mind how much I’m looking forward to the next full moon.

(Harry showed this letter to Remus, who sighed but accepted her request not to tell her parents, and Sirius, who looked embarrassed at the mention of 'Crookshanks' favoring him.)

—

Harry,

Mum's in a bit of a state now everyone knows You Know Who is back. We had Tonks over for tea and she's had dad invite Shacklebolt tomorrow. I reckon she's trying to convince Dumbledore to make this the new headquarters, just for the extra protection.  No word from Percy. Even with it proved Fudge was a lying git, he's still being a tosser. 

Mum says you're welcome over whenever you like - you can just floo over. Ginny still has your broom, think she may be hoping you forget to take it back. Be great to see you.

-Ron

—

Harry,

Sounds like it worked out for the best if you don't have to deal with those people, even if you are stuck sleeping there. That 'sacrificial magic' lark is ridiculous.

Fred, George, and Tonks were here when we got home so it doesn't feel like we're the only kids in the house yet. Mum cried over Percy again, Dad says Percy won't even make eye contact with him when they pass each other in the Ministry and Percy didn't once reach out to see if we were okay. 

Ron says he told you that mum said you can come over any time. You showed up at dawn when you were 12, so I think she means it when she says *any* time. 

-Ginny

—

Harry took up the offer to visit the Burrow the next day. Part of him felt slightly guilty, he had spent the whole school year with Ron and Ginny, and he’d wanted to spend time with his godfathers. But the entire situation seemed like one he wanted to just stay out of, especially until Friday when they’d see Hermione and could discuss how her pet had also been a ‘believed dead Death Eater’. Apparently a good one, at least. 

Fortunately, the spell had no effect on Hedwig. He’d find a time to use it on Ron’s owl, Pigwigeon, as well. Just in case. He was strongly considering writing to Professor McGonagall about implementing a new policy of checking all students’ pets to confirm they are not, in fact, animagi.

Then there was the matter of Voldemort's soul being split into who knows how many parts and each needing to be destroyed or else he'd keep being resurrected. 

Yeah, Harry just really, really wanted a day of wizard chess and quidditch practice and just being a kid.

He had breakfast with Remus and Sirius, who encouraged him to enjoy himself when they saw how nervous he was about asking. He didn't ask where Regulus/Crookshanks was, and they didn't say. He knew there probably wouldn't be news about Draco Malfoy, it seemed like one of those things that had to be kept secret, and he wasn't sure if he cared. Harry couldn't think of a single time he'd heard Malfoy speak of anything other than how great purebloods were. He was practically a Death Eater - why delay it for a year?

It made him think about Snape’s memory, what his father and Sirius had been like at his age, how they both (apparently) became better people before graduating. It wasn't the same, though, was it?

This wasn't what he wanted to think about, so he took Remus’s broom and flooed to the Burrow and smiled slightly at the memory of how terribly he did the first time traveling by floo. 

The house was quieter. It was about 10, everyone ought to be awake, but every time he'd been to the Burrow there had been a certain amount of chaos. Then, it had been two years. Back when Percy still visited and the twins lived at home.

"Oh, Harry!" Mrs Weasley cried, drying her hands quickly on her apron and bustling over to him from the kitchen, "Ron and Ginny had said you might come, oh it is always so lovely to see you!" she had wrapped him in a tight hug which he returned with a smile, "Ginny’s out back with Luna - I'll call Ron down."

"Luna?" Harry asked, confused, as Mrs Weasley shouted up the staircase, "Ron - Harry’s here!"

She turned around, "Oh, yes, dear, it turns out that the Lovegoods live not far from us. I only found out when I was talking to Xenophillius in the Hospital Wing," her face went pale for a moment but she shook it off and smiled, "Ginny’s delighted to have another girl in the area, especially a friend of hers."

"It'll be good to see her," Harry said honestly, grinning. 

He made a mental note that he should probably reach out to Neville, it seemed unfair, after the Ministry, not to stay in touch. A strong twinge of guilt hit him as he realized he didn't know how Neville usually spent his summers, he didn't seem to have many friends at Hogwarts and the thought of him spending it with only his grandmother as company seemed a bit dreadful.

He passed by the dining room table on his way to the staircase, noticing a witch sat there with dull brown hair falling limply over her face. Harry hesitated before giving a somewhat neutral hello, deciding it would be ruder to ignore her than that.

She looked up, somewhat startled, and gave a weak chuckle as she pushed her hair out of her face, "Oh! Ha, wotcher, Harry…"

He froze, "Tonks?" He immediately winced at his tone but she only smiled grimly, "Sorry, er, I didn't- you…"

"Look like shit, it's alright," she replied with a bitter laugh, "Nothing for you to worry about - just…" she waved a hand dismissively. 

"Is it because of the ministry?" he asked quietly, her face darkened and she only shooed him off as Ron came down the stairs.

"Oh, mate, I didn't expect to see you so soon," the redheaded boy said, pulling Harry into a tight hug, "Glad you're here - it's…" he shook his head and gave Harry a bright grin, "Want to play chess?"

"Yeah," Harry replied with a matching grin, equally relieved to leave behind everything.

They rushed up the stairs as if they were still 12 and delighted over the success in jail breaking Harry from the Dursleys', settling on Ron’s bed. Ron set the chess set up on his bed while Harry pulled out some of the muggle sweets and snacks he'd brought - which Ron found somewhat fascinating, having grown up only with the wix variety. 

Ron had decided that muggles made up for their inability to magic up gimmicks like leaping frogs or smoke blowing out the ears by developing better flavors. Harry, having grown up without access to muggle treats, had to fully agree. 

As always, Ron was the far stronger chess player. Harry managed to win once, and stale mate another time, which he was quite pleased by. Ron didn't seem able to resist giving Harry advice and teaching him strategy while playing, so over the years Harry had been improving. It somewhat surprised him that Hermione had never taken to the game, but she always had enough on her plate and seemed to take a particular displeasure in being outsmarted by Ron. 

When Mrs Weasley called them down to lunch, they each had fewer than 6 pieces left on the board and looked to be headed towards another stalemate.

"Call it a draw?" Ron grinned, offering his hand to shake on it.

The two boys got to the dining room table at about the same time Luna and Ginny were making their way through the back door, laughing. Their hair was windswept and he wondered if they'd been flying. 

"Harry!" Luna said in an airy voice, "Ginny said we might see you this summer. We've spent a lovely morning flying around the area. I think I spotted a few nests of nargles."

Behind her, Ginny just gave a small shrug at the mention of the nests, and Harry smiled at Luna, "That sounds great, it's good to see you."

"You, too, it's nice to be able to see friends over the holiday," she said with a dreamy smile and Harry felt another squirm of guilt, albeit a far smaller one. They hadn't properly met before last year.

Once at the table, Harry discovered that Tonks had already left. Mrs Weasley seemed somewhat anxious about this, but was hopeful that Shacklebolt would be over for dinner if Harry cared to stay. He was already planning on it.

After lunch, they all went out to practice Quidditch. Ginny returned Harry’s Firebolt with a rather sheepish grin, her cheeks going pink when he thanked her for taking such good care of the broomstick. Luna was on one of the old Cleansweeps that one of the elder Weasleys had left behind, Ginny taking the broom that Harry brought. 

As much as Harry yearned to practice being a seeker, he could do that on his own or with Sirius’s help. Ron needed help practicing as keeper.  Luna proclaimed to have never played Quidditch before, an announcement which startled all of them, and at first Harry wasn't sure how useful she'd be.

It turned out that it was probably perfect. She was still able to throw and aim, and her utterly unpredictable style was excellent practice for Ron.  Eventually they shifted to having Harry be on Ron’s team, attempting to get the quaffle from Luna and Ginny while the two witches focused on scoring goals.  

Once Luna had the ball it was incredibly difficult to get it back. Again, her movements seemed completely erratic. She would stop at absolute random, change directions without warning, perform absolutely ridiculous feats like going upside down or free falling. None of it seemed to be in response to anything happening on the pitch, yet Harry found himself getting smacked in the face by her broomstick more than once.

"Oh, sorry, Harry, you really should watch where you're going," she hummed after each time.

Ron and Harry were kept thoroughly on his toes, while Ginny laughed and cheered. 

When Harry accidentally collided with the back of Luna's head, chipping a tooth and causing him to bite his lip so hard he started breathing, he called himself out of the game. Relieved for the excuse, Luna followed him while Ginny and Ron continued. 

"Honestly, Luna, you should try out for your team if you can - I know I'd love to have you on ours," Harry told her after they landed, holding the hem of his shirt up to his mouth to soak up the bleeding. 

Luna looked up at the blue sky and smiled serenely, "Oh I wouldn't want to do that. I don't particularly enjoy that game, and I feel I only got in the way."

"You were brilliant," Harry said with a small chuckle. The noise drew her attention and her eyes flicked to the blood briefly. She pulled a handkerchief embroidered with radishes out of her pocket and handed it to him.  He nodded his thanks. "If you wouldn't mind practicing with them more over the summer, I think you'd really help Ron improve."

"Is that so? Well I would like to help," she said softly. 

They both found themselves watching the Weasley siblings, who had been playing against each other since they could ride a broom. Ron was considerably better at predicting Ginny’s movements, but Ginny was better at exploiting Ron’s weaknesses. 

With any luck, Harry mused, they'd have a much better Quidditch season this year.

—

That evening, Sirius came for dinner. Kingsley Shacklebolt was there as well, and Mrs Weasley was notably relieved to have both of them in the house. It made a bit of guilt squirm in Harry’s gut - he knew how worried for her children she was, and he still brought four of them to face Death Eaters. After everything the Weasleys had done, Harry had led their children into danger too many times and still he was welcomed like family. It was hard to believe he deserved their kindness.

There wasn’t any point in bringing this up, he knew by now that everyone would insist he did deserve it and not to feel bad. Which was nice, although he didn’t really believe it.

Instead of having that conversation again, he asked about the noticeable absence of his other guardian - although he fully expected to be brushed off about how it couldn’t be talked about here. Presumably Remus was guarding or working with or whatever was going on with Sirius’s brother.

“Ah, he’s at the cottage - sometimes he needs to be alone,” Sirius chuckled and brushed a stray bit of hair behind his ear, “I need not to be so it’s a good thing we’ve got more people I can lean on, again.”

“He’s okay, though?” Harry asked, frowning, he hadn’t expected that response. 

Sirius sighed heavily, giving him a lopsided smile, “I don’t think anyone is going to be okay for a while, Haz, but it’s nothing worrisome. Promise.”

“Alright,” he said, not quite believing it, “I think Mrs Weasley really appreciates having you here, Ron and Ginny said she’s been really nervous.”

“She had Bill the same year that the war broke out. I imagine it’s even scarier now that her kids are old enough to be properly involved in it - and five of them are out of the house, where she can’t keep them safe,” Sirius noted, looking over at the clock on the wall where all of the hands were pointed firmly at ‘Mortal Peril’ with a grimace, “If it’s helpful to have us over, we can certainly do that.”

“Yeah? You two didn’t exactly get along well last summer,” Harry pointed out wryly. 

“That’s fair,” he said with a bark of a laugh, “But we won’t be living together this time, and I can respect this is her house because, well, it is!” 

Harry laughed as well, relieved that the tension from last summer seemed to be well gone - or at least, gone enough.  They stayed late into the evening, talking and laughing. The adults seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but he noticed they were more on edge than usual. Eyes glancing warily out the windows, jerking towards sounds in the night, fingers tapping wands that were easily accessible. 

It hadn't been long since Voldemort's return had become public knowledge, and he got the sense that this would become worse long before things got better.

Chapter Text

"So you've got three options for today," Sirius began. It was the next morning and his godfather had just arrived in his bedroom at the Dursley’s. 

"You can stay at the cottage with Remus and have a quiet day, you can go to the Weasleys', or you can come with me," he bit his lip, "I'm, erm, going to my Uncle Alphard’s old home with Andromeda and Tonks to see about, well, moving into it."

"Oh," Harry said, not sure how to feel about this, "Why can't we stay at the cottage?" 

Sirius ran a hand through his hair nervously, "Well, the cottage is a good safe house - but it's small. Remus wants to keep access to it completely limited to the three of us. I'd almost convinced him to loosen up on that but my brother…" he pressed his lips into a thin line, "Well that's not happening anytime soon now."

"I think we need a place that can actually be a home - where we can have people over, we don't have to be in hiding anymore," he finished, still looking nervous.

"I guess Grimmauld Place wouldn't be good," Harry said, tilting his head to one side. Sirius winced and he gave him a wry smile, "Fair enough. How many properties do you own, though?"

Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Too many, really. I've sent Reggie and Kreacher to a property in France with one of the most extensive libraries."

"Is that safe?" 

"Well, I've put better boundaries on Kreacher that should prevent any issues and for my brother, well, that ship sailed," he shrugged, "I'm not willing to send him to prison, or to be used as a spy, and honestly there's not a lot we could do to keep him trapped if he wanted to run off."

Harry shook his head, it didn't seem like a good thing but it was probably the best they were going to get. At least he was out of the country for now.

"Alright, well, in that case - I'd like to go with you," Harry said with a smile.

Sirius’s face lit up, much like it had the first night they met when Harry had said he'd want to live with him, "Great - we'll have breakfast with Moony then meet Andy and Tonks there."

—

Alphard’s home was one of the least Black properties that Sirius owned. Had anyone else inherited it, they would have demolished the house to make way for a building worthy of the name 'Black'. Which was why they really shouldn't have been shocked when it went to Sirius, but his mother did enjoy a good chance to screech about blood traitors.

If she weren't so inbred he would have suspected she was part banshee.

Unlike the stiff, grim flaunting of power and wealth the rest of the family preferred - Alphard’s home was cozy from the inside out. The exterior house was done in a Tudor style, bright white walls with nearly black frames and joinery. Several chimneys rose above the ash grey roof, indicating the numerous fireplaces that helped warm the house.

The grounds were not pristinely manicured, flower bushes and trees were allowed to grow without excessive pruning. Sirius knew from his memory the number of them that would bear fruit, the few times he and Regulus had been allowed to visit had resulted in sticky hands and mouths stained with berries and shirts bunched up to hold apples and plums. 

There was a lake behind the house and the grounds included a stretch of forest. It was a magical forest, there were considerably more creatures to worry about than in a muggle area. Nothing anywhere near as dangerous as the centaur hordes or acrumantula of the Forbidden Forest. Mostly creatures like wil o wisps, boggarts, hinkypunks, and dragon toads. It was a safe place to let Buckbeak roam free, something the hippogriff desperately deserved.

The property had loads of protections set up, one Black family trait his uncle agreed with. The house was safe, the forest warded to keep unwanted travelers away. Even without the wolfsbane potion, Remus could safely use the forest for full moon nights.

By Black standards, the house was small. By most standards, it was quite large - 6 bedrooms, library, study, a massive dining room that would be perfect for dueling practice once they removed the hand carved oak table. The rooms were made of wood stained in warm tones and cool grey stones. There was also Victorian wallpaper, similar to Grimmauld place, but instead of the dreary tones the walls were vibrant creams and jewel tones. 

Like every Black property, it was Unplottable. It had access to the Floo Network from before the Ministry had started monitoring it. Many of the wards were ancient magic, reinforced for centuries, offering a kind of protection that was nearly impossible to replicate in modern buildings.  

On paper, it was everything they needed.

He just needed to do a walkthrough to confirm. And then convince his already overwhelmed, frugal to a fault partner to move again into the kind of house Remus had never felt comfortable in. For the express purpose of letting more people into their lives more frequently after 15 years of habitually shutting people out.

It needed to happen, Remus knew it, but Sirius didn't want this to be something that he reluctantly went into - he wanted to coax Remus into being comfortable and happy with their new home.

—

Andy was waiting for them when they arrived, walking down the stone path with a nostalgic smile. The Black sisters had been able to spend more time at this place, their mother was less restrictive than Walburga had been. Still it was likely her first time visiting since she had been blasted off the tapestry. 

Harry looked particularly startled to see her, looking quite different than when they had met. Her wild hair had been tamed into a herringbone braid that draped over her shoulder, and her makeup downplayed the similarities to Bellatrix. It was unfortunate, Sirius thought, that she felt the need to do this. Growing up, she let her hair out in its wild curls when she was feeling her most happy and free. Seeing her have to restrain herself to avoid comparisons to Bella felt like a painful echo of their childhood.

"Enjoying yourself?" Sirius called as he opened the wrought iron gate and let Harry cross in. 

Andromeda smiled over at him, her eyes wet but happy, "Oh, cousin, for a long time I thought I'd never see this place again."

Sirius ran a hand over the overgrown bushes that lined the path before letting out a loud bark of a laugh, "For a long time, so did I!"

She chuckled slightly, shaking her head and looking past the gate where Tonks was meant to be arriving. Her face fell slightly and she caught Sirius’s gaze, "Have they spoken to you at all? Ever since the Ministry…" Andromeda shook her head.

"You mean Tonks, right?" Harry asked, and she nodded while a frown tugged at her lips, "I saw them yesterday - they look terrible."

"What?" Sirius asked sharply, "Do you know why?"

Andromeda and Harry both shook their heads. Sirius worried his lip, joining them in watching the area beyond the gate for his cousin to show up. Tonks had been the most badly injured in the battle, but he'd heard that those injuries had fully healed. Between Kreacher's betrayal and Voldemort's return, Order meetings had been handled differently and Sirius hadn't seen his cousin once. Now that Kreacher was no longer at Grimmauld place, they would likely return to using it for Headquarters. Although Molly was making a compelling argument for the Burrow.

Fortunately it wasn't long until the telltale crack broke through the gentle, country noises and all three of them breathed a sigh of relief.

Tonks came through the gate, head down and scuffing their feet slightly. They looked up with a too-tight grin plastered on and Sirius’s eyes widened. He'd seen his cousin nearly blackout drunk and nursing massive hangovers, but had never seen them look this bad. 

Their hair was muddy and lifeless, their skin ashen. Tonks, usually full of confidence and life, was shuffling and hunched. Their clothes were baggy as well, which on its own wasn't terribly out of place, but there wasn't a single flash of color or design. It was as if all of the life had been drained out of them.

Sirius caught Andromeda's hand just long enough to give it a squeeze before grinning and walking over to meet his cousin. He grabbed them up into a big hug that made them squeak in surprise but did manage to get a shaky laugh.

"Cousin!" he said jovially, "You made it! Ready to see one of the only family properties worth keeping?"

Tonks chuckled again at that description, taking a deep breath and finally taking in the property. They grabbed Sirius’s wrist and squeezed it, letting out a wistful sigh, "It's certainly the first I can imagine a decent family in - it looks like it'd be an amazing place to grow up."

Those words had been unexpected and Sirius bit his lip against the yearning it stirred in him. They'd never really talked about family, and the start of a war wasn't the right time.

"Unfortunately, Alphard never had kids of his own," Sirius said instead, "Some of my fondest childhood memories happened here, though."

"Mum told me a lot of them," Tonks said, flashing a genuine grin, "She's so happy to be back."

"Sweetheart!" Andy called, laughing, "You don't need to tell them!"

"Aww, mum," Tonks complained teasingly, kissing her mum's cheek, "They were such good stories, though!"

Andromeda blushed, still laughing, and the four of them slowly made their way up to the front door. 

It opened at Sirius’s touch, wealthy purebloods didn't bother with keys, and he and Andromeda both gasped when they stepped inside.

The entryway was exactly as he remembered it. There was even still a gouge in the hardwood floor from when he and Regulus had been playing and brought a portrait crashing down, its sharp edge digging into the floor.

The two had been terrified but Alphard had only laughed, pulled them both into a hug, and assured them he'd hated that old thing anyways.

He let out a shuddery breath he didn't realize he was holding and linked arms with Andromeda, who seemed to be having similar waves of nostalgia. This would be a much more emotional trip than he'd expected.

"How is it so clean?" Harry wondered, running a finger over a table that was positioned along the wall. It had an orchid sitting on it and Harry smelled it before frowning, "How is this still alive?"

Sirius coughed uncomfortably and Andromeda winced slightly.

"Well, erm, every Black property is tended to by at least one house elf…" he explained uncomfortably, "Kreacher is a bit of an exception in the state he allowed it to get to."

Harry turned to him with wide eyes then bit his cheek, "Hermione is not going to like that."

"Neither does Remus," Sirius agreed, rubbing his forehead, "I'm going to send the elves from this property to another one of their choosing - I can offer freedom but most don't want it and, well, I can't just throw them out. There's too few places for them to go and right now it's just too dangerous."

Andromeda placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and gave him an understanding smile, "It's a very different way of living, and thankfully it's going out of style. I've heard about your friend's feelings about elvish welfare and I do hope the sentiment catches on."

"Alright," he said, shrugging. 

Tonks nudged him, "I was mostly raised in the muggle world and house elves have been really hard for me to accept."

Harry nodded quietly and soon they were moving on, Andromeda and Sirius arm in arm and leaning into each other. They shared memories, laughing and crying and raging, while Harry and Tonks trailed behind them with wide eyes and open ears. Harry wasn't sure how much Tonks knew about their mother’s childhood, they'd had far more time to learn, but Harry knew precious little.

It was jarring to think of the Blacks as children. To hear about Cissy and Reggie. Eventually Andromeda slipped, mentioning a very, very early memory of Bella. Back before Sirius had been born, when Narcissa was very young, when Andromeda still looked up to her.

Harry felt like his chest would seize up, remembering the terrifying and dangerous woman from the Ministry. Who had tortured the Longbottoms into a lifetime in St Mungo’s. Who had thrown the cruciatus at Neville. Who had fallen into the veil.

To think of her as a child who looked after her little sisters, who made sure Cissy didn't prick her fingers on the blackberry bushes.

The room fell silent. It felt like an eternity, then Tonks was moving, wrapping her arms around her mother and whispering "It's okay to still love her, ma." in a voice that only carried due to the silence. 

Harry took a few steps to lean against Sirius, who was staring at his cousins with grief etched on his face. 

"I wish I'd been able to know her back then," he said hoarsely, wrapping an arm around him, and Harry put his head on his godfather's shoulder, "I wish we all could have stayed like that."

"Uncle Alphard gave us the only place we could just be children," Andromeda said, wiping tears from her face and pulling back just enough to smile at Tonks, "I wish I'd reconnected with him, so you could have known him, but after being disowned…" she looked over at Sirius somewhat helplessly.

"I know," he agreed, "It felt like we'd given him up… or I'd be putting him at risk…"

"He sent me a wedding present," Andromeda said with a shaky voice.

"He sent me an owl, letting me know I'd always have a place here," Sirius said, closing his eyes.

"With the war…" she said softly, turning to Tonks, "It was hard enough to stay safe. You were so young, sweetheart, when he died, only 4, I was still so afraid of even leaving the house. I always thought there'd be more time."

Sirius nodded grimly, "I hadn't even graduated yet, I told myself I'd see him next summer…"

Harry felt incredibly out of place with the conversation, about a family he didn't belong in. 

"I managed to visit here with your dad, once," Sirius said fondly, looking at Harry, "Dear ol mum wouldn't let me come home for Christmas after I was sorted into Gryffindor - not the punishment she thought it was! - and Alphie found out and invited me to his. James came to stay for a week, then I went to the Potters' from Christmas Eve to New Year's. One of the best Christmases I've ever had."

He sighed, with the pained look he got when he was particularly missing James, "James loved it here, of course he did, 11 years old and already making plans with Uncle Alphard to visit with his kids one day. That's when we started calling each other brothers."

Harry took in a deep breath, feeling his place forming around him. This wasn't just a home other people had lived in - his own father had been here. From all the stories and photos and letters he'd heard and seen and read over the last year, he could almost imagine it. 11 year old James with messy hair and round glasses and the bright grin of someone well loved - running through the hallways, bouncing against Sirius, distracting his friend from the rejection of his family. 

The life that could have been, something that used to be empty daydreams but had become more and more tangible with every new memory shared. Harry’s mother and father bringing Harry to pick berries and run around the grounds after Padfoot. Meeting the people they had loved, running after Tonks as children. 

It wasn't until Tonks nudged his shoulder and used their sleeve to wipe his cheeks that he realized he'd started crying.  He smiled sheepishly and somehow the four of them ended up laughing.

—

The mood was much lighter for the rest of the tour, now that the ghosts had been addressed. The discussion between the elder cousins had mostly turned into ragging on every other pureblood aristocratic home they'd had to visit in their life. How not a single stick of furniture in the Lestrange Manor was comfortable, the unnerving feeling of the Malfoy portraits sneering at them, the number of items in the Nott house that would bite your hand if you touched them. All in contrast to Alphard’s - where you could sink into every couch and chair and bed, there were almost no portraits but instead landscapes and photography, and the only protective spells had been set up to keep people safe.

Harry and Tonks kept exchanging surprised and occasionally horrified looks at the memories shared. He hadn't realized how much worse being raised by blood purists could be from his childhood with the Dursleys. 

"Mum almost never talks about this stuff," Tonks whispered to him at one point, "Every time she does I can't believe she came out so kind."

Harry nodded, his time with Ron and Hermione had helped him realize what being raised with love looked like - and that people raised with it struggled to understand someone who wasn't.  Harry didn't find it surprising at all, though, after his own experience. It still hurt to hear about what people he loved had suffered through. 

It also made him think of Regulus and Draco, the world they'd grown up in. How it could lead to someone Harry’s age feeling so accustomed to dark magic, how they could feel they had no choice but to swear their loyalty to Voldemort. 

Finally there was only one room left, on the second floor and next to the library - which, while it did have some dark tomes, had nothing that would attack and also contained considerably more positive titles than Grimmauld Place. 

"We were never allowed in here," Andromeda said in a stage whisper, giggling like the little girl she once was.

"It was the only room - if we were allowed to sped more time I would have tried so hard to break in," Sirius agreed with a bright grin, taking her by the hand and interlacing their fingers, "I tried to peek in the window once, on broomstick, but the curtains were closed."

"I always wanted to know what he was working on!" she enthused, "I don't think he ever used it when we visited but to be so secret - it must have been really interesting!"

"Reggie thought he must be inventing a new potion."

"Cissy thought he kept some dangerous beasty in here, she was so scared!" Andy said with a fond laugh. 

Sirius put his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath, as if expecting it to still be locked. Again it opened for him and he exchanged a nervous look with Andromeda, holding his breath as he slowly pushed it open.

The first thing they noticed was a portrait, hanging over the mantle and settled directly across from the door. It was in a classic style used for married couples - one standing behind the other - except they were both men. Uncle Alphard, looking much the way he did the last time Sirius had seen him, sitting in crushed velvet robes of aubergine in front of a wizard that Sirius had never seen in his life. The strange wizard was the same age as his uncle with weathered, copper skin and silvery hair that fell down his shoulders in waves over his own burgundy robes.

Sirius and Andromeda exchanged a quick look to confirm they were both equally shocked, then simply stood in disbelief. Behind them, Tonks and Harry craned slightly to see what was going on.

"There you are, Siri, you know after the first decade I had thought you'd never visit," his uncle's portrait chuckled, "You've brought Andy, oh my dear I had feared I'd never see you again."

"Uncle Alphie," she said, placing a hand over her mouth. 

"Who's- ?" Sirius asked, still staring wide eyed. 

The two men in the portrait both looked nervous. They didn't even share a look, shifting minutely. The stranger's fingers, already settled on Alphard’s shoulder, moved ever so slightly and Alphard just barely leaned into the touch. It was the intimacy of two people who have had to hide and it was so painfully familiar. 

"You had someone," Sirius said with a relieved sigh, remembering the times he would worry about his uncle being alone, "How long were you together?"

The two visibly relaxed and Alphard chuckled, "This is Avi Kapoor, we were together for 30 years before he passed in '75," he looked over his niblings with a sad smiled, "I had hoped you could meet - once you were grown, after the war…" he shook his head, "Anyways, who have you got with you?"

"Oh!" Sirius said with a laugh, realizing they were still standing in the doorway while Tonks and Harry were still craning their necks to try and see what was going on without interrupting the moment.

Andromeda chuckled softly as well and they all made their way into the room, walking over to the portrait. They stood so the children were between them, both looking up at the portrait with eager grins.

"This is my child, who prefers to go by their surname - Tonks," Andromeda explained, wrapping an arm around their shoulders.

"Goodness, it has been a long time, your mother sent me a few photos of you when you were young," Alphard said fondly, "You're a metamorphmagus, Tonks, is that right?"

"Yeah," they said, their cheeks going pink. They bit their lip and their hair once again returned to its bubblegum color. Alphard and Avi chuckled with delight while the other three looked at Tonks with surprise.

"And this young man looks remarkably like the boy you brought to my house that one winter," Alphard mused, turning his attention to Harry, "James Potter, if memory serves."

"Yes, sir, he was my father," Harry agreed with a shy grin, not accustomed to meeting wix who didn't already know his entire life's story. Even portraits could usually recognize him.

"Was?" Alphard asked with a frown, "My condolences, he was a lovely lad. We kept in touch until the end."

“I didn’t realize that,” Sirius said, his voice hoarse. Andromeda placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled fondly at him.

They spent the rest of the trip in that room, talking to the portrait. It felt odd, Harry had not grown up with talking portraits as a normal thing. It was quite different to the headmasters and headmistresses in Dumbledore's office, this was far more intimate. 

More tears were shed, Tonks continued sounding more and more like their old self, and Harry felt quite confident they'd be making this their home soon.

Chapter Text

Friday afternoon was the next time that the subject of Regulus was brought up, which had to happen considering that the dinner with the Grangers was that evening and they would have to explain that Hermione’s beloved cat had, in fact, also been an animagus of a believed-dead Death Eater. Which, really, gave an interesting new depth to his hatred of Scabbers during third year.

Regulus would not be going to the Grangers, although he had expressed the desire to personally apologize to Hermione if she'd allow it. Harry still didn't trust him, but as long as Sirius and Remus would be there… well, if it was what Hermione wanted then he wouldn't complain.

Which meant Remus and Harry were going to the Grangers without a cat, although they did have a nice bottle of wine as a gift for her parents. It reminded him of something the Dursleys would do, although he supposed not everything they did was bad. 

They arrived and Hermione answered the door after the first knock, her face falling slightly, “Oh- I thought you’d have Crookshanks.”

Harry looked over at Remus, who’s smile went tight for a moment, “Regrettably, no, but we will explain what’s going on.”

She nodded uncertainly and invited them inside. Remus greeted her parents comfortably, and Hermione visibly relaxed when she saw how readily he was able to navigate a muggle home.  She muttered to Harry that Arthur and Molly Weasley had visited a few times - Arthur still marveled at the littlest thing while Molly made remarks about how quaint muggle workarounds were. Once she was fairly satisfied that Remus and her parents could make small talk without needing her to mediate, she excused herself and Harry and dragged him to her room.

“Harry James Potter! You will tell me what is going on with my cat!” she said firmly, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Then she saw the rather panicked look on his face and sat down on the bed, “Oh, god, how bad is it?”

“Remus and Sirius insist it’s not bad,” he replied uncomfortably, sitting down in the chair at her desk, “But, er, well, Crookshanks is an animagus,” he took a long breath, “Specifically - he’s Sirius’s brother.”

“Sirius’s brother? The dead one?” she asked sharply, “Wasn’t he a Death Eater?”

“Apparently he defied Voldemort and faked his death and has been living as a cat this whole time,” Harry said bitterly.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, covering her mouth with her hand, “I - I don’t know what to think,” then her eyes widened, “He stayed at Order Headquarters last year! Who knows how much he’s heard!”

“We know,” Harry agreed grimly.

“What does Dumbledore think?” she hissed, quickly glancing at the closed door, “Oh, Harry, you can’t tell me they’re planning to hide this from him! Is that really a good idea?”

“I don’t know - ugh, you should really be talking to Remus about this, I don’t like any of it,” he muttered, crossing his arms, “He’s in France now - says he wants to apologize to you personally, though.”

“I suppose that’s nice?” Hermione said doubtfully, “And… Sirius and Professor Lupin… they wouldn’t put us in danger, right?"

"No," he said, pursing his lips. Then he gave her a lopsided smile, "You might like him, actually, he defied Voldemort after he hurt Kreacher - and put himself in harm's way to protect the elf."

Hermione’s eyes went wide, finding any wix who agreed with her passion for helping house elves was incredibly rare. A Death Eater defying his master for an elf's sake seemed nearly impossible and also gave her hope. 

"Are you sure that's what happened?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Remus did legilimency. I think Sirius has the memory in the pensieve now, too," Harry said, looking down at his feet uncomfortably, "I don't know how easy it is to fake that - but, well, you've seen how Sirius treats Kreacher, and Regulus knows about Kreacher lying to me -" Harry’s face darkened, then he shook his head to clear the thought and looked up to meet her dark brown eyes, "So it's a bit of a daft thing to lie about, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes still wide, "Gosh… I hope it's true…" 

"A lot nicer than Pettigrew’s story," Harry pointed out wryly and they both scrunched up their noses, "I'm going to write McGonagall about setting up some way to check for animagi at Hogwarts, though, this is the fourth unregistered animagus who's snuck into Hogwarts and the second supposedly dead Death Eater." 

"When you put it like that…" she laughed, smiling slightly at the reminder of her discovery of Rita Skeeter, the third animagus they'd found and who Hermione had been blackmailing for the past year. 

They spent a bit of time talking about slightly happier subjects, mostly Hermione fretting over the OWL results they wouldn't receive for weeks. Then they went back downstairs and Hermione almost sagged with relief to find her parents and Remus chatting pleasantly in the living room. Remus actually knew what dentists were, his mother had taken him throughout his childhood, so he was actually able to discuss their livelihood. Plus the werewolf apparently had a knack for explaining magical concepts to muggles as they were now enthusiastically discussing the ways that muggle healing could assist magical methods, something Remus had been forced to master over a decade of managing full moons alone with limited resources. 

"We have been quite curious about magical healing ever since Hermione showed up with her teeth straightened, saying Madam Pomfrey had done it," Mrs Granger mused, smiling at the teenagers as they returned to the room. Hermione blushed, her dark cheeks coloring at the reminder. "In seconds, apparently, certainly much less painful than braces."

Remus wrinkled his nose at that, "A fate I fortunately avoided. From what I've heard it is not a pleasant experience."

"Not at all, no," Mr Granger agreed with a laugh, "Once we got over the shock - we were truthfully relieved that our 'Mione didn't have to go through it," he looked over at his wife and squeezed her hand with a wistful smile, "It was the first time we truly appreciated how different our daughter's life would be, though."

"My mam had a difficult time with that as well, though she knew better what to expect, she made sure I knew her world and ways - I wish more wix appreciated them," Remus said softly. 

"It's funny in a way. When she was a child, in muggle schools, Hermione was bullied for her race - now she's bullied for not having magical parents," Mrs Granger pursed her lips, her face darkening, "It seems people will find any excuse to have a group to hate."

"Unfortunately, yes, they will," Remus agreed grimly, "We're certainly not progressive in terms of racial acceptance, either. James, Harry’s father, hid his religion and nearly ended up in the hospital after a nasty experience with skin lightening potions."

All three of the Grangers grimaced at that. Skin bleaching was a concept among muggles and they could imagine what could push a teenager to try something dangerous in a desperate bid to look more acceptable. 

"I didn't know that," Harry mumbled. 

Remus looked over at him, startled, and ran a hand through his hair, "No… we haven't known how to…" he looked at his hands, his face tightening. 

Hermione’s parents shared a knowing glance and Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand. 

"It's difficult knowing what to share after a loved one has passed," Mrs Granger said kindly. Remus gave her a small smile in return.

"When we first went to Diagon Alley, to buy her school supplies, we realized how different the upbringing was and how much she hadn't learned that her peers would have…" Mrs Granger shifted the subject, looking over at her daughter with a sad smile.

"In some ways it can be a benefit for school. Magically raised students often have bad habits, they take things for granted, and they can be so impatient when a subject is tricky," Remus pointed out, his face softening again as they returned to an area he was comfortable in, "I could tell the muggle borns - well, those raised by muggles," he nodded to Harry, "with the younger years because they were more diligent. By NEWT level it's almost impossible to tell - the wix raised realize they need to catch up," he said with a smirk.

He leaned back thoughtfully, "Most wix children don't get any formal schooling until Hogwarts, too, that's a serious hindrance for things like essay writing and study habits."

"I remember," Hermione remarked, shaking her head, "Ron was absolutely hopeless with essays in first year…"

Mr Granger raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, "Are they all homeschooled, then? Is there anything that regulates what magical children learn before Hogwarts?"

Remus shook his head, "I was homeschooled due to… health concerns - but my mother was a muggle and quite adamant that I needed a strong foundation. Many of the people in our world are woefully ignorant…" 

"We had noticed that," Mr Granger remarked with a small laugh, "I must say, it is a relief to meet someone who seems comfortable navigating both worlds… we had worried, sometimes, that we would end up losing Hermione…" he shared a look with his wife, neither of them wanting to glance at their daughter. Next to Harry, she looked down at her hands with a sad expression.

The rest of the evening was quite pleasant. It reminded Harry of the times the Dursleys had guests for dinner - well, what he heard while he was sitting in his cupboard being very quiet and pretending he didn't exist - which was distinctly uncomfortable. This had nothing to do with the Grangers, though, and he did his best to push the thoughts away and enjoy the time. 

Before they left, as promised, Remus set up protection charms on both the Grangers and the property itself. Without letting her parents know. He did explain it was all more effective when the recipients were aware, but did not attempt to sway her. She relaxed a bit more after that, and finally asked him for recommendations on DADA books to help her prepare for NEWTs. As she had two full school years before the exams, he chuckled but wrote up a list before they left.

—

It was the middle of the next week. Harry had gone to the Weasleys for the day, Neville had been invited and convinced his grandmother to allow it after she had interrogated Molly on the protections the house had set up. The days at the Burrow seemed to be doing Harry good, the familiar setting letting the kids just be kids. Remus, Sirius, or both would visit for at least some of the day whenever Harry went and it was good to see him excitedly talking about quidditch and complaining in good spirits while losing at chess to Ron.

That morning, Remus had dropped Harry off then returned to the cottage to find a pile of letters for him.

"You're popular today," Sirius mused, nodding to the letters on the table from where he was draped on the couch, listening to muggle news on the radio. News was a rather complicated thing right now, but the muggle side at least wasn't dire warnings about You Know Who and still had some bright headlines.

Remus glanced over and let out a sigh, smiling wryly, "It seems a lot of things are coming together, then."

He flicked through the envelopes, holding up one from the barrister that was handling Sirius’s case - which was addressed to Sirius, "Need me to open this one, pet?"

Sirius stretched lazily before walking over, opening it with a frown, "Honestly I stopped looking at the names - just confirming. They got everything they needed off the kids last week," his voice went soft, still deeply appreciative that all three - even Ron, whose leg he had broken - had offered their memories and testimonies to confirm that Pettigrew was alive, "They've also convinced the Wizengamot to accept, if I'm found not guilty, time served for the unregistered animagus thing." 

Remus snorted at the casual reference to the highly illegal thing they had done as teenagers. It had turned out not to be worth hiding that fact, and their barrister had been confident that they could avoid further jail time as the sentence for being an unregistered animagus was considerably shorter than the twelve years he'd endured without a trial.

"Of course," Remus chuckled, kissing his cheek before sitting down at the small kitchen table and going through the letters, "Both my da and Moody got back to me about what protections to make sure we have set up…"

"As if you need anyone's help for that," Sirius rolled his eyes then frowned, "Set up for what?"

"A new place," Remus replied, his brow furrowed as he read over the letters, "I don't love it - but we both know we really need a better place for Harry," he sighed, "and I know you're willing to humor me, but you deserve to have a social life as well."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, "I honestly thought it'd take more effort to convince you to move."

"If it was just us, it would have been," he said with a small laugh, "but I've realized that if I actually want to see Harry this summer, we need to be able to have his friends over."

Sirius grinned broadly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. 

"But, well, not Grimmauld Place and I don't especially trust any of the other Black properties to be better," Remus said, scrunching his nose slightly. 

That got a laugh out of Sirius, who was fully in agreement with the general sentiment. He bit his lip and cocked his head, still grinning at this turn of events, "There is one property…"

—

By the next full moon, they had fully moved into Alphard’s home. The Ministry hearings were finished. Sirius was finally free after 15 long years. Umbridge and Fudge had been disgraced.  Harry had also spent enough time with the Dursley’s that he no longer had to stay with them, although Dudley had started teaching him boxing so he would at least be seeing Dudley a few more times. His cousin had made a good point that knowing how to fight with his fists would likely come in handy if he was being targeted.  

It was incredibly strange, learning to throw punches with the boy who had spent so much of his childhood terrorizing him. The boy seemed genuinely apologetic, and had never once taken advantage of the lessons to hurt Harry. It wasn’t until Harry was landing solid punches on him that Dudley was properly retaliating, and Dudley was delighted by the discovery of healing charms. To Vernon’s horror, Harry gifted Dudley with a magic healing salve to help with the bruises and scars Dudley got in his matches.

The full moon was crucial to the animagus process. Remus was only able to accomplish it thanks to the wolfsbane potion, making it safe enough for Sirius to place a mandrake leaf in the wolf’s jaws and then remove it a month later. The teenagers planned to stay the night at Alphard’s so they could complete the next step in the process. The most difficult part of this was convincing Molly to allow Ron & Ginny to spend the night away from the Burrow. But the house was nearly as well warded as Grimmauld Place and considerably more hospitable.  

After Molly & Arthur visited for dinner a few times, she was able to relax into the idea and accept that it was helpful for the kids to be able to do normal things like sleepovers. When she fretted about it being the full moon, they reminded her that Remus had safely been at Hogwarts for the school year without incident and had been using the wolfsbane potion without incident, plus Sirius’s animagus form could keep the wolf under control should anything go wrong. Remus would even be doing the transformation outside just to be safe.

Sirius had procured glass phials and the moth chrysalises. Dew from a place that hadn’t been touched by humans or sunlight for 7 days was quite easy on the sprawling, formerly uninhabited grounds. They had the ingredients they needed, and just had to wait for the moon to rise and sky to clear. 

For most of the evening, Remus spent the day in his animagus form, pacing irritably and growling and huffing and whining at random intervals.  

“So - with the transformation - will we actually be able to tell the difference?” Ron asked, tilting his head to the side, “I mean, he’s already a wolf, isn’t he?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and tutted, “Ronald, honestly, we learned this in third year! The snout is shorter, the pupils smaller, and the tail is more tufted on werewolves than true wolves.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Alright, fine, but by how much? I’m not sitting here with a measuring tape just to tell if he’s gone full wolf or not.”

Hermione shook her head in disbelief as Sirius and Harry chuckled. While there hadn’t been many to judge by, going from a wolf animagus form to werewolf seemed to be far easier on the body. He still transformed back into a human afterwards, but it halved the damage. The teens would be giving him privacy, securely inside watching a movie until Sirius confirmed it was safe and went to fetch them. 

Everything was ready. The excitement was palpable. Once the potions were made, they’d only need to wait for a thunderstorm.

Chapter Text

The summer days had become stiflingly hot and miserable. Indoors, thankfully, they had magic that kept it more cool and comfortable but they weren’t able to spend their time lounging outdoors or flying. Swimming in the lake wasn’t worth having to endure the heat for the walk there and back. Even with the spells, just being too close to a window gave a sense of the oppressive weather outside. For the most part they ended up stretched out in the large living room, the muggle television running and the curtains thoroughly secured.

In the entryway, Remus was pacing. He seemed agitated, and attempts at conversation proved difficult as he kept getting distracted by looking keenly out the window. Sirius was somewhat similar, sat in an armchair by the window, glancing behind the curtain and scanning the sky as his foot jiggled.

They were both quite adamant that today was the day - the heat would break and a thunderstorm would crash over the estate, finally letting the teens finish the animagus ritual. Hermione found this unlikely, as the forecast showed that the heat would last a few more days at least. The others weren’t sure if they wanted to get their hopes up, as the heat wave crept on the siren call of cooler weather was enticing. 

As the teenagers discussed the option of dinner, having accepted that the adults were going to be useless for a while, a howl cut through the house and Sirius leaped up, throwing back the curtains and whooping. All four of them turned to the window to see the heavy rain pouring from the quickly greying skies. They rushed over, throwing the window open to feel the cool water, laughing and cheering. Another howl brought their attention to the form of the wolf, already running gleefully along the lake’s edge.

They all turned to Sirius who just waved his hand, “I’ll join him later, come on let’s get to where the vials are stored, the lightning will be here soon.”

The four teenagers rushed eagerly to the front door. Hermione and Harry pulled their shoes on quickly while the Weasleys were out the door, bare feet slapping on the water that was pooling on the too-dry, too-hard ground, turning around when they realized they’d lost half their group - taunting them about it. Hermione snapped back about nettles and thistles, which only made the pair laugh harder.

As soon as the whole group was out, they were racing each other. Cheering and shouting as the rain soaked their hair and clothes, running down their faces, washing away the miserable pressure that had been building and cooling everything it touched. Padfoot raced with them, easily outpacing them and circling back, yipping and barking with unrestrained joy. 

There wasn’t far to go, the vials had been secured in a box at the base of a tree with a few protection charms just to be safe. It was by the lake’s edge, a nice clear space no matter what size they all ended up. Padfoot howled once they’d all reached there, calling the wolf back, before going back to his human form and shaking his head, whipping the wet, shaggy hair around his face.

The first lightning bolt lit up the sky as the wolf made his way over, soon reverting to Remus who looked decidedly waterlogged but pleased. Hermione knelt down to remove the enchantments and open the box, gasping to see the four small vials - each labeled with one of their names, and filled with a mouthful of blood red liquid. 

“Alright, everyone, as a reminder - take your vial, spread out so you have enough space, place your wand tip over your heart and speak the incantation you have been using at sunrise and sunset - Amato Animo Animato Animagus , then drink the potion,” Remus called over the sound of the storm, in full professor mode.

“Then - show no fear! If it works properly, you will feel a burning, painful heat, it won’t last. The animal is a part of you - embrace it!” Sirius added with his barking laugh.

So they did, grabbing the vials and spreading out along the bank of the lake. They exchanged some nervous glances, not able to really talk over the sound of the rain at such a distance. 

Ginny ended up going first. Ron had been watching her with worry, making no sign of taking his own potion until he saw that she was okay. She placed the wand tip to her heart, reciting the incantation, then threw the potion back in a single gulp. The feeling of fire licking through her was shocking and she yelped in pain. Ron began to rush towards her, but Remus shot a shield between them - he couldn’t interfere. Slowly her body began to change form, more slowly than the transformations they’d seen before. Or, perhaps, it was just as quick but time had ground to a halt. 

Her body shrank down, became covered in fur, until she had fully become a long-tailed weasel. The small creature had beautiful ginger hair and bright brown eyes. She took a few cautious, unsteady steps, shivered at the rain, and sat up to transform back.

It was only after she returned to her human self, looking startled but delighted, that everyone cheered. Ron rushed over, hugging her closely and shouting how proud he was of her. 

Hermione and Harry exchanged a relieved glance and took their potions at the same time. Ron and Ginny watched them, this time with slightly more eagerness than nerves.  As Ginny had, they both yelped out as the feel of burning coursed through their bodies. Ron made a jerky movement towards Hermione, but this time was able to stay where he was and didn’t need to be stopped.

Harry’s body shrank, his front half turning cream and while the rest went black, his nose lengthening and sharpening. Finally he found himself as a peregrine falcon, with golden yellow marks around his eyes in the shape of his glasses. He shook his wings off in the rain, making an attempt at leaping into the flight that ended with him landing face first in the mud. He transformed back, laughing and wiping his face. 

Hermione also shrank down, her hair darkening to a dark grey which soon covered her whole body. Her hands stayed mostly the same shape and she looked at them curiously, testing flexing her fingers. She had turned into a melanistic raccoon, and she let out a small chittering noise before returning back to human. She looked startled for a moment before beaming brightly.

As he had with Ginny, Ron rushed over to congratulate his friends - first Hermione and then Harry.  Only after he was sure they were all safe did he finally step back for his own ritual.  He held his vial up as if he were making a toast, all three watching him, and placed his wand to his heart.

His shout was covered by a crash of thunder, his body morphing. It seemed more difficult than it had been for the others, panic flashing over his face. Hermione and Ginny grabbed each others’ hand and watched on, worried, as his body slowly changed. Finally, it finished, a large, mastiff type dog sat panting. He had a black muzzle and red fur, and his nose twitched as he sniffed, taking in the new smells. Hermione called out a reminder that he needed to change back and he did, grinning sheepishly and running a hand through his rain soaked hair.

Sirius let out a whoop of delight, running over to them. Remus came after as quickly as his limp allowed, smiling brightly. 

They spent the rest of the day exploring their new forms, with enthusiastic suggestions from the two adults.  This was slightly hampered by having to go inside to get out of the rain, but the stately house was large. 

Hermione delighted in discovering that she had as much dexterity as a raccoon, and could still read. Ginny and Harry practiced darting around the house - where Ginny had the massive upperhand as a weasel, the falcon struggled to get the hang of flying indoors. Ron was too large to run around without breaking things until he had better control of his body, instead exploring his heightened sense of smell. Which he did with Padfoot, sitting in the kitchen and making puppy dog eyes at Remus to beg for different treats. 

—

Andromeda was hosting a dinner party. While not publicly stated, the intention was to reintroduce Sirius to magical society. Something Sirius had rather specifically abandoned twenty years ago.

"You are the head of the House of Black, Sirius! You have a tremendous amount of sway in our world and it's high time you use it!" she snapped at him when his bellyaching had finally gotten on her nerves.

"I'm from a nothing house, though, no one cares about the Lupins, I could stay home," Remus pointed out with something of a chuckle.

"Well you should have thought of this before marrying a Black!" she said, pursing her lips.

The two men exchanged a confused glance.  "You didn't marry me without saying anything, right, Padfoot? That's really something that needs to be discussed."

"I was going to ask the same thing, Moonpie," Sirius agreed with a nervous chuckle. 

"You own a home together, you're raising a child together, you're stupid for each other, the point is, Remus, you have joined the family and need to step up to the responsibility that entails," Andromeda said, rolling her eyes. Sirius knew that his cousin was right, they both did. Privately Remus had been coaxing him into this for weeks. There was so much good that Sirius could do as the head of the House of Black, but it still rankled. He had run away from this nonsense at 16, and Remus had never wanted it.

Harry and Tonks were watching the process with open amusement, occasionally muttering and chuckling to each other. 

“We’ll see how pleased you are when your mum gets you into proper dress robes and has you hobnobbing with the rest of us,” Sirius groused at his cousin after a particularly loud bark of laughter.

“Do I have to go?” Harry asked with a grimace, “I really don’t want to have to see Malfoy swanning around."

Andromeda frowned at him then shot Remus and Sirius a dark look. They both held their hands up, looking distinctly chastised.  The witch rolled her eyes before turning to Harry, “My sister and nephew are in hiding - they couldn’t go to something like this,” she shot the two men another dirty look, “And you should know that so you don’t let it slip to the wrong person you have the foggiest idea where they are.”

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled, looking away sheepishly.

“I thought we had…” Remus said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Anyways, Harry - you don’t have to attend, Tonks doesn't either, though it might help your auror career to make your own connections," he finished directly to the metamorphmagus with a small shrug.

“I want to be an auror, so maybe I should, too,” Harry said, perking up at the possibility of it helping his ambitions.

Tonks shook their head, wrinkling their nose, “Nah - these things are terrible, and you’re Harry Potter. You’re basically overqualified to be an auror. Ministry’ll be falling over itself to recruit you, Haz, promise,” they gave him a cheeky wink.

Harry grimaced, “I don’t want to get a job just because my parents were killed by Voldemort.”

“Harry, you’ve faced Death Eaters and Voldemort himself more times than most aurors have,” Sirius pointed out, “That’s what we mean. You’ve proven yourself more than most adults. Which means you don’t have to put up with obnoxious small talk.”

“Alright… I suppose,” he said, not fully convinced but also not terribly keen on spending an evening being gawked at by people the way that often happened when he spent time with wixen who didn’t know him well.

—

"Ugh, well, I know I could use a drink after that," Sirius groused, "Would you like a brandy, cousin of mine?" Andromeda had left and Harry had gone to the Burrow, the rest of them retreated to the kitchen, and Sirius was already pulling a fancy glass bottle out of the liquor cabinet. Most of it had been there before they moved in and was now exquisitely aged. 

"I'll be having hot chocolate, if you'd rather," Remus offered, "It's been a while since we caught up, if you don't have plans."

"That - okay, yeah, that… that would be nice, hot chocolate, thanks," they agreed nervously, sitting down at the kitchen table. 

The metamorphmagus had gone mousey again, but there were at least traces of pink highlights in their hair. The Order and auror work seemed to be keeping them incredibly busy, it was rare to see them outside of Order meetings and they always looked worried and pinched.

"This whole rebranding the House of Black stuff…" Sirius groaned, taking a long sip of the brandy then winked at Tonks, "What do you think your mum would say about renaming it the Ignoble and Most Queer House of Black?"

Remus snorted, "Saying that makes me think we should invite Tonks and Draco to live with us."

The cousins turned to give him a confused expression and Remus felt his face heating up, "Oh, Merlin, forget I said that - about Draco - he might not be out, or even realize…"

"Okay you've got to share this story, Moons," Sirius grinned, leaning forward.

"Well, while I was teaching and he had the most obvious crush on - a boy in his year," Remus muttered, burying his face in his hands, "I barely even know him and he's got enough going on, you know how those families can be like."

"I do," Sirius agreed bitterly.

"We won't say anything," Tonks agreed with a chuckle, then gave him a conspiratorial look, "And I've hung out with him a few times. He certainly still has a painfully obvious obsession with "a boy in his year"."

Sirius squawked, "Oh! The indignity! You're both hiding it from me! How dare you!" 

They were all laughing, even Tonks, which was wonderful to hear.

"Seriously, though, if Narcissa decides to cause a fuss about the kid being queer - he could live here, I just don't think that'll happen," he added solemnly.

"I know," Remus said fondly, leaning over to kiss his cheek, "Harry wouldn't like it, but we'd make it work if we had to."

A gentle silence settled over the table, Sirius and Remus sharing a soft look and Tonks biting their lip so hard it nearly drew blood.

"I'm pregnant!"

The silence broke with the outburst, the metamorphmagus burying their face in their hands and shaking as they started sobbing. 

The two men shared an alarmed look then Sirius was wrapping his cousin into a hug while Remus fetched chocolate and extra sweet tea and a glass of water and ginger biscuits and -

"Why don't we have any plain crackers? That's supposed to be easy -" Remus fretted.

"Merlin's hairy bollocks, Remus! Just sit the fuck down!" Sirius snapped, "Circe, tell me that is not your response every time you find out someone is pregnant!"

"Pregnant and crying," Remus defended, "Chocolate didn't seem like enough."

Tonks laughed again, shaky and wet and hiccupy this time. 

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to just shout it out like that," they wiped their face with a handkerchief provided by Sirius and took a bite out of the ginger biscuit appreciatively. 

"Moony gets nauseous after fulls, turns out Molly's morning sickness recipes help him," Sirius explained gently as Remus sat, staring at the table and his face decidedly pink.

"Thank you," Tonks said, giggling and rubbing his arm. They huffed out a breath, "So. Yeah. You know how I'd go out to muggle bars sometimes? Well, erm, I found out right after the Department of Mysteries," they waved in the direction of their belly, "I don't even know where to start to find the father - and I'm only 23 and the war and I just-" they cut off, burying their face in their hands again.

"It'll be okay, little cousin," Sirius said gently, "Whatever you choose to do - we'll help you, okay?"

"I've been really scared," Tonks admitted, their voice very small, "It's just awful, isn't it? I got knocked up and I don't even have the foggiest idea who by," they wrinkled their nose.

"How are you doing, physically?" Remus asked softly.

Tonks bit their lip, "I can't transform like I used to. I was only just starting to really explore my identity, and transforming was a big part of it, now my body is stuck like this and I can't do much more than my hair and eyes and I feel so trapped in my own skin…"

"I know what that feels like, to be trapped in your own skin, that your body isn't your own, it can be terrible," Remus said carefully.

"On paper, I should just end it…" Tonks said quietly.

"If that's what you want, we will support you," Remus echoed.

"But you don't have to," Sirius agreed.

Tonks nodded, chewing their lip, “I don’t - I don’t want to do that. But I don’t know if I’m ready to be a parent, I don’t know if I’ll ever want to be a ‘mum’.”

“You have time to figure out you want to do,” Sirius said, shifting slightly in his seat. 

Remus nodded, swallowing thickly and taking a steadying breath, “You are welcome here - both of you are - if it would help. As long as you like.”

“Thank you,” they said, nodding glumly, “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Text

The book lists had come out and that meant a trip to Diagon Alley. It was depressing. Most of the shops had shut down. Everyone huddled in small groups, hurried through. The sense of fear was strong. It was nothing line the vibrant, lively street that had been his first introduction to the magical world. Harry’s heart broke for the muggle borns who would get their letters this year. What would they think of this world?

The one bright, shining jewel was the newest shop - Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. The twins had spent all of their last year at Hogwarts making arrangements to open the location as soon as they graduated. Their involvement in the Department of Mysteries ordeal only helped the shop, bolstering their popularity and making people feel even better about visiting. There were concerns that it would make them more likely to be targeted by Death Eaters, but the twins brazenly putting out ‘U-No-Poo’ - in open mockery of Voldemort - made it clear they were not bothered. 

The flat above the shop was one of the Order safe houses. It wasn’t likely to be used often, it was quite small, but they had agreed to this for their mother’s peace of mind. It meant the Order had put up all of the protections, in addition to ones the twins had contrived both by themselves and with the help of Remus and Sirius.

Harry was there with a large group. Neville’s grandmother had agreed to bring him when they were going, so all of the kids who had gone to the Department of Mysteries were there - except for Fred and George - along with their respective guardians. 

It helped them to keep their spirits up, although Harry found himself unusually eager to leave. In the safety of their homes, it was easier to forget the war that was overtaking their world. 

—

Sirius had to admit that Andromeda’s parties were considerably better than anything he had experienced in the past. While he still had to dress up and be on his best behavior - his ‘best behavior’ meant he was allowed to make jokes and laugh loudly and occasionally press kisses to Remus’s cheek. 

He would still rather not be there. The 12 years in Azkaban made the typical small talk uncomfortable. What had he been up to lately? Well, you know, reliving trauma under the cold hand of the dementors and then being on the run while everyone smeared his godson’s name in the papers. Fortunately Andromeda navigated the conversations skillfully and he was spared from the worst of it.

“Mr Black!” the familiar, grating voice of Horace Slughorn caused him to repress a shudder. The Blacks had been some of Slughorn's favorites to collect, and the professor had always made Sirius’s skin crawl. But he knew that the man had also meant Harry no longer having to deal with Snape, so he managed a grin and Remus pressed a hand to his lower back.

“Horace!” Sirius replied, taking his hand and shaking it firmly, “Please do call me Sirius,” instead of making him feel like he was once again a fifth year, “Harry spoke highly of your tutelage, we appreciate your efforts.”

“Oh, thank you, Sirius. It has certainly been my pleasure. He is a marvelous boy, isn’t he? He doesn’t quite have his mother’s proficiency in potions, but Lily was one of my most talented students. Harry was a dutiful student all the same, I’m quite confident he’ll have managed an O in his OWL,” he replied enthusiastically, and Sirius shifted at the mention of Lily, “I must say it has revived my love of teaching - you might hear some news about that, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Slughorn chuckled, winking and tapping his nose.  

Remus made the appropriate comments and light laughter and Sirius was able to make noises that apparently satisfied the man. Or perhaps there was little Sirius could do to dissuade him from his pursuits. When he was a student he had pushed pretty hard trying to shake the man’s desire to ‘collect’ Sirius, and absolutely nothing he did had made a difference. Even when he ran away from home, because he joined the Potters, Slughorn was just as interested. It had always set his teeth on edge, and he still very much wanted to tell the man to get stuffed.

“Now, Remus, I had the most fascinating discussion with Zenobia Noke, who of course is an editor for Jobberknoll Publishing House,” Slughorn moved so he was focused on Remus, who looked bewildered but covered it up quickly. “After that unfortunate business with Gilderoy Lockhart, they’ve been looking for a reputable defense expert and I must say, the stories you shared at Andromeda’s last get together came to mind.”

“Really? About how I traveled in the decade after the war?” Remus asked, blinking. Sirius raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly forwards. For the first time since he had met the man, he found himself genuinely interested in what Horace Slughorn was saying.

“Yes, quite remarkable, and of course I think we all remember that you came to school knowing more about defense than most professors,” he chuckled appreciatively and the two men nearly gawped at him, considering that Slughorn had never paid Remus any mind in school. They managed to keep something resembling composure. 

Sirius stepped in, smoothly agreeing with Slughorn and negotiating an introduction with promises that they’d exchange owls over the next week. If Slughorn minded that Remus spent the rest of the interaction staring owlishly at him, he didn’t let on, clapping him on the shoulder and chuckling as he walked off to greet another one of Andromeda’s extinguished guests. 

Once Remus and Sirius were left on their own to process what had just happened, his cousin caught his eyes and raised her glass with a smirk. 

—

Harry had never visited the Tonkses house. On some level he had expected it to be some grand, ancient, stately home like every other Black property he had seen. He hadn't seen Malfoy Manor but he had certainly heard enough about it to know it wasn't quaint.

The Tonkses lived in a lovely little detached home on the outskirts of a muggle town. It was where Ted had grown up, Harry learned, he had forgotten that Ted was a muggle born. It wasn't a magical house. It had electricity, outlets, appliances. 

It wasn't like the Dursleys', where everything was perfectly in place. It was warm and inviting, with family photos of them laughing and acting goofy and being human. It was a mixture of moving, magical photos and still, muggle photos. The shelves were cluttered with books that were worn or had bookmarks sticking out or were resting at an angle, clearly in use and not just for show. 

He couldn't help but smile as he took it all in. Andromeda greeted him with a warm hug, Ted shook his hand. Tonks wasn't there, but she didn't live there. 

They were there entirely because Sirius wanted to spend more time with his cousin. It was a friendly visit. There were no ulterior motives or new dangers. It was nice. Sure it had included a slew of questions to confirm identity thanks to the war, but once that tense moment was past, the adults settled in very well.

Harry had never been brought along to adults socializing like this. He knew Dudley had, he grew up being fed cakes and treats while his mother gossipped with her friends. Now Harry was being offered tea or coffee (tea, thank you) and a fairy cake while Remus and Ted discussed some muggle scientific discovery they saw in the paper and Sirius and Andromeda started teasing each others' cooking skills. 

Harry focused on the photos, trailing along as they continued into the hallway, taking in the image of Tonks’s childhood. Messy and loving and everything Harry had never had.

Whzz, paff

A soft noise called his attention, familiar though he couldn't quite place it, muffled behind one of the doors. 

Whzz, paff

It kept happening and he walked closer, noticing the door in question was ajar, as though the occupant had meant to close it but hadn't fully managed it. He pressed it slightly and glanced in to see a cozy bedroom with Draco Malfoy sitting on the bed, releasing a snitch and catching it.

It reminded him slightly of the memory of James Potter. Only James had been smirking and showing off, while Malfoy looked bitter and worn. Something about that made his stomach squirm. 

The boy noticed him and scowled, "What do you want, Potter?" 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,” he said with a shrug, “Wanted to know what the noise was.”

“Now you know, you can leave,” the blond replied, making a shooing motion with his hand.

The dismissal was infuriating and he instead stepped inside, glaring at him, “Where did you even get that snitch? Did you steal it?” 

“None of your damn business,” he replied with a snarl, standing up and jerking his finger at the door, “Get. Out.”

“No! Andy is letting you and your mum stay here and she deserves to know if you’ve got stolen fucking goods in here!”

“Get the hell out, Potter!” Malfoy hissed, throwing the door open and attempting to bodily shove Harry from the room. Unfortunately for the blond, Harry was stockier and better trained and was able to plant his feet and barely moved.

Malfoy had him by the collar, rage in his eyes, hands shaking, and Harry gripped his wand in his hand. Then, something clicked, “You don’t have your wand, do you?”

“Piss off, Potter,” Malfoy spat, shoving against his chest, though he saw the hint of fear in his eyes. 

He glanced at the snitch, darting around the small room, “Do you want to go flying?”

“Excuse me?”

“Flying. Brooms. With me,” he said, shrugging.

“Ignoring that I haven’t got a broom, they’d never allow me to leave,” he said with a sneer that reminded Harry of Snape.

Harry held up a finger, retreating down the corridor quickly and glancing out. The adults were in the kitchen, talking amongst themselves. Harry’s fingers twitched on his wand, an idea forming. He went back into Malfoy’s room, a finger to his lips, and cast a silencing spell over the room, “No one’s in the living room, there’s floo powder on the mantelpiece, I can get us to Hogwarts and we could borrow some brooms from the broomshed.”

Malfoy’s sneer fell from his face, his mouth tightening into a thin line, and his eyes narrowed. He searched Harry’s face suspiciously then grabbed and pocketed the snitch, nodding once. 

“Remus has strong hearing, we’ll have to keep muffling charms up on ourselves, and around the floo,” Harry said, peering down the hallway again.

“They’re going to notice we’re gone - we will get in trouble,” Malfoy pointed out, frowning.

“You’re basically grounded and don’t have your wand - what else can they do to you?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. If it were the Dursleys, they would of course lock him up and starve him and possibly rough him up a bit. Harry rather doubted that Tonks’s parents would allow that to happen - and knew Sirius and Remus wouldn’t - so what other punishments were there? They couldn’t take away the television, they didn’t have one to begin with. 

It seemed truly miserable, and while he really ought to have just felt a vindictive pleasure in watching Malfoy suffer - he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d spent enough time isolated without magic. He recognized the miserable expression he’d seen when he first glanced in the door.

“They could punish you.”

Harry shrugged, “There’s honestly nothing they’d be willing to do that would feel like a punishment after my aunt and uncle. C’mon, or I’ll go without you.”

He hesitated, but Harry didn’t look back and by the time he reached the floo, Malfoy was at his side, standing at his full height, shoulders rolled back, head tilted up slightly, fists clenched tight at his side. 

“Shrieking Shack,” Harry told him with a smirk, and Malfoy looked at him like he was insane, but the green flames were licking over him and he felt the familiar pulling, spinning sensation he had never come to terms with.  He stumbled out and moments later, Malfoy followed behind him, looking around in suspicion and disbelief. Remus and Sirius had thoroughly renovated the interior last year to serve as a defense classroom for Harry. Dark hardwood floors, fabric draped over the walls, and lamps flared to life as they stepped through.

“What the hell?” Malfoy muttered, looking around in disbelief, “This is the Shrieking Shack? In Hogsmeade?”

“Yep, Remus and Sirius fixed it up so they could give me proper defense lessons last year,” he replied with a grin.

Malfoy scoffed, shaking his head, “Are we going to walk to the castle, then? It’s a bit of a jaunt.”

“Yes- but not the way you expect,” Harry replied, walking over to the trap door that led to the tunnel and opening it. Once again, he didn’t bother waiting for Malfoy, just gave a small gesture for him to follow and continued in. There was a small pause, then he heard the soft sound of boots on the earthen floor of the tunnel. When they reached the end of the tunnel, he rushed ahead, knocking the knot subtly so Malfoy couldn’t notice. He stopped at the exit, turning back to offer a hand to help the blond out.

“Where – Potter, is this the Whomping Willow?” Malfoy asked, shrinking back and eyeing the massive limbs warily.

“Come on, we’re not far from the broom shed. The castle should be mostly empty for the holidays,” he replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the tunnel. They cleared the tree and about thirty seconds later, a club-like branch came down and smacked the spot they had just been. 

“You’re mad, Potter,” Malfoy said faintly, “You have actually lost your mind.”

Harry laughed, enjoying Malfoy’s discomfort. They made their way to the broom shed, keeping their ears open and staying towards the forest, as far from the school as they could manage to avoid being noticed. Getting into the broom shed was easy. There were no additional locks on it, it was accessible as it was during the school year. 

“Going to be able to fly on such low end brooms, Malfoy?” Harry teased, holding out the battered old Cleansweep.

Malfoy took it, ignoring the jeer, his hand wrapping slowly around the broom handle. He frowned, looked up at Harry and searched his face again before scowling, “Aren’t you all supposed to be keeping me locked up so I can’t run off and join the Dark Lord?”

“If you want to go, go. I’ll buy the school a replacement. Hell, I’ll upgrade every broom in this shed. You’ve been acting like a baby Death Eater since I met you - if you really want to join him, I don’t see any point in endangering people just to delay it a year,” Harry replied evenly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck you, Potter,” he spat, looking away and his cheeks burning, “Is that your angle, then? Hoping to get rid of me?”

“My angle is seeing if you want to do seeker on seeker,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a broom for himself and shut the broom shed. Without his usual minions backing him up or a wand, Malfoy’s vitriol just seemed toothless. It was all rather pathetic, like the way he threw a punch. 

Before they could argue further, a loud noise came from Harry’s pocket- making them both jump. Harry pulled out the mirror and winced at his godfather’s face. His expression was uncharacteristically stony, and Harry swallowed thickly.

“Is Draco with you?” Sirius asked tersely, and Harry nodded. The man’s face softened with unreserved relief and he let out a long groan, “Thank fucking Circe for that!” He straightened up and pressed his lips together, “Where are you?”

“Sirius, I –”

“Where. Are. You?”

“Hogwarts,” Harry swallowed again. His godfather had never been upset with him before, even after he broke into the bloody Ministry Sirius hadn’t seemed this upset.

Silence followed, Sirius frowning into the glass, his eyes searching Harry’s face. Malfoy was frozen in place, his grip on the broomstick so tight his knuckles had gone white.

“Okay,” Sirius said, letting out a sigh and rubbing his brow, “One hour. You’re still in trouble, but I’ll cover for you for one hour.”  Harry broke into a grin and his godfather’s face darkened and his tone went menacing, “If you are not both back here- we will find and drag you back and there will be consequences. Do not make me do that, Harry.”

“I won’t,” he said in a very small voice. The mirror clouded over then only showed the reflection of his own face, eyes wide and shaken, and his previous bravado about how Sirius couldn’t really punish him evaporated. He wasn’t about to let Malfoy know he’d been right, though, so he rolled his shoulders back and smirked, throwing his leg casually over the broom.

“Going to release the snitch then?” Harry asked, forcing his voice to be casual.

“We’re really still doing this?” Malfoy asked, shaking his head in disbelief and gesturing helplessly towards the pocket Harry had put the mirror back in. 

Harry grinned, kicking off the ground, “Scared, Malfoy?”

The boy stared at him for a solid minute before snorting and kicking off after him, pulling the snitch out of his pocket, “You wish.”

—

They spent nearly the entire time flying. They didn’t talk. There were a few shouted jibes and a few times that the snitch vanished and they helped each other spot it, which was new. Otherwise, it was almost like they were in the middle of a quidditch match. Everything else fell away, he was laser focused on catching the snitch, aware of Malfoy in the periphery. Reading him the way he had for so many matches. To his surprise, Malfoy matched him more readily. He caught the snitch as many times as Harry did, unlike their matches where Malfoy had never managed to outpace him. It was startling, and raised questions he doubted he would ever ask. But he certainly came out of it even more eager for the Slytherin vs Gryffindor match.

“You can’t throw a punch,” Harry said as they were putting the brooms back in the shed. Malfoy scowled at him and before he could turn it into a threat, which Harry would have laughed at and it probably wouldn’t have ended well, he continued, “You should learn how to fight with your fists.”

“Fascinating,” he drawled, “Unless you’re offering to let me punch you–”

“Actually, yeah,” he said thoughtfully, and once again Malfoy stared at him in utter shock. “My cousin boxes, he’s been teaching me. He’d probably let you join us, if you wanted,” he smirked and held out his hand for Malfoy to shake, “Don’t worry - we’ll go easy on you until you know how to actually throw a damn punch.”

Malfoy crossed his arms, his lips turned up into a sneer and his eyes narrowed, probably planning some witty retort that would make Harry roll his eyes and scoff and storm off to the willow. That wasn’t what happened, though. Instead, his nostrils flared for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, he took Harry’s hand firmly and gave a single terse nod, “Alright, then.”

“I’ll ask my godfathers to arrange it,” Harry agreed, shaking his hand and letting go a bit too quickly, tightening his jaw to keep it from dropping.

—

55 minutes after the call from Sirius, they had secured the brooms in the shed, made their way down the tunnel (Harry had managed to avoid showing him the knot again, somehow it felt important not to share all the secrets), and were stumbling back through the floo at the Tonks house. Five adults leaped out of their seats, wands drawn. 

Once they saw who it was, a few things happened very fast. Ted rushed over to Malfoy’s room, shouting that it was empty. Narcissa and Remus pestered both boys with questions to confirm their identity. Sirius sagged with relief, and Andromeda grabbed him by the ear. Harry and Malfoy were forced to sit on the sofa, secured there with some wordless charm, while the adults discussed Sirius’s actions behind muffling charms. 

“Well then,” Ted said, running a hand through his greying brown hair, “Welcome to parenting a teenager,” he gave a tense laugh and patted Sirius on the shoulder. 

“Draco…” Narcissa said softly, and the blond went stiff. He was glaring a hole in the floor, his shoulders hunched and hands clamped tightly in his lap. “You have to be more careful, you can’t just run off like that…”

“We were at Hogwarts, isn’t that the one place Voldemort won’t dare attack?” Harry complained, crossing his arms and frowning. Half the room flinched at the name. 

“You can’t floo directly to Hogwarts, though, and you could have been attacked in Hogsmeade,” Andromeda pointed out sternly.

“We- it was safe,” Harry said, looking over at Remus and Sirius who immediately had matching looks of realization. Remus covered his mouth with his hand to smother a proud smile and Sirius grimaced.

“They were fine,” Remus confirmed, clearing his throat, “I know what he did - there’s a few secret tunnels, and that one is warded to the hilt.” Andromeda and Narcissa did not look particularly pleased by this, and Harry suspected that they would be grilling him later.

Narcissa frowned, “I… suppose. It was still terribly reckless, though, to disappear without telling anyone. What were you doing?”

“Seeker vs seeker,” Harry said defiantly. Narcissa let out a sigh and shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded like ‘of course’.

“Okay, right. That was considerably less dangerous than anything we did at that age,” Remus said with a regretful smile, “But it’s not acceptable. Harry, you’ve been attacked on Hogwarts grounds enough times to know this,” he gave him a meaningful look and Harry looked down at his hands, feeling guilty for the first time, “We can arrange times for you two to go flying safely. But no more sneaking off, either of you, it’s too dangerous.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. Malfoy said nothing, his face stormy and tense.

—

Later that evening, Harry was sitting in the window of his bedroom when Remus knocked on the open door to announce his presence. The boy looked over at him.

“I’d like to ask about today - it had been my impression that you’ve never had any interest in spending time with Draco,” the man said softly. It was the truth - while Draco went to lengths to get Harry’s attention, always in the most negative ways possible, in third year Harry had never seemed to acknowledge him outside those times and didn’t bring him up otherwise. It had been particularly unexpected to find out Harry had helped him to sneak out like that.

Harry snorted, shaking his head, “That’s an understatement.”

“Why did you decide to leave, then? There’s many places you can go to fly if you wanted,” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side and stepping towards the window, leaning against the wall.

For a moment, Harry didn’t answer. He looked back out the window, watching the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually he spoke quietly, still facing the window, “He reminded me of the way I felt when I was at the Dursleys’.”

“Oh,” Remus said softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “You have a kind heart, Harry, it’s one of your mother’s best traits.”

“You’re not mad?” 

Remus chuckled, wrapping his other arm around Harry, pulling him into a hug. This was something they had struggled with. Remus and Sirius had been worried about pushing Harry or not respecting boundaries so had tried letting him take the lead on physical affection, but a lifetime with the Dursleys had meant the boy was both touch starved and unable to recognize it. There had been growing pains, but they seemed to be doing better.

“Truthfully - it is very difficult to make me angry. I’m also not quite sure what I feel. On some level, I’m proud. You took every precaution, and reached out to someone in need despite past grievances,” he smiled fondly and Harry sank more deeply into the hug, his cheek pressed up against his chest, “At the same time - I am constantly worried for your safety and that was absolutely terrifying and I want nothing more than to shake you and demand you never do anything like that again!”

Harry gave a small huff of a laugh and mumbled a sheepish apology.

Chapter Text

It was nearly incomprehensible that Draco Malfoy and Dudley Dursley had ended up in the same room together. That Draco was there to learn muggle boxing… well. It was certainly unexpected. 

Dudley had been surprised and pleased that Harry had asked, puffing his chest up with pride that Harry actually wanted to not only introduce him to a wixen, but for the purpose of teaching the one thing Dudley felt he was any good at. 

It was rather remarkable how different his relationship with Dudley had become. Of course, it probably helped that it was limited to a block of two hours every other week or so where the Dursleys were not around.

Harry had no idea what Draco said he would be doing to convince Narcissa to allow it. Or perhaps she realized her son could stand to be punched in the face a few times. After finding out the plan, Sirius had spent a week occasionally breaking into riotous laughter at the thought. 

When the day came, Remus spent it particularly tetchy. He was responsible for bringing the boys to the gym where Harry had been training with Dudley. Then he was supposed to leave the room, trusting that they wouldn't try to kill each other. Then heal any injuries to Draco enough that Narcissa and Andromeda wouldn't have his head.

Harry could, legally, use magic because Remus would be close enough. They had arranged that with the Ministry for Harry to be able to practice magic at home, as homeschooling was allowed. Which meant Remus also had to decide whether to allow Harry to keep his wand or not. 

"Why have we not developed child proofing spells?" Remus was muttering over his third cup of coffee - his last cup, Sirius had said adamantly. 

"They'll be fine, Moonbeam. Draco can't cast and you've been healing worse than boxing wounds for over 25 years," Sirius insisted, rolling his eyes. 

"It would feel like punching a wet cat," Harry said with a grimace, "Without his magic or his cronies - he's just kind of pathetic."

"That's his father’s influence," Sirius said haughtily, "My cousins don't need magic to be formidable."

Remus snorted and shook his head at the pride Sirius was suddenly taking in the family he had shunned for so long.

"His dad seems pathetic even with it," Harry muttered.

It was finally time to go to the Tonkses’ to collect Malfoy. They apparated, Harry side-alonging with Remus. Sirius went as well, he was going to spend the afternoon with his cousins. When they arrived, Malfoy was in the living room, wearing a grey tshirt and emerald green sweatpants. It was startling to see. He looked… normal. And decidedly uncomfortable, his arms were firmly crossed over his chest and he was scowling. 

Narcissa was fussing over him as well, which he seemed embarrassed by if the pink tinge on his cheeks was anything to go by.

“He will be safe, yes?” the witch asked sternly, her eyes flickering between Harry and Remus.

“Of course,” Remus said solemnly.

Harry bit back a comment about punching him, as he wasn’t sure exactly what she knew and didn’t want to ruin anything. She shot him a sharp and suspicious look before giving Remus a curt nod.  Narcissa pressed a kiss to her son’s cheek. Andromeda called her to come out to the garden. 

"Before we go - Malfoy - my cousin doesn't know, well, anything about our world or who I am in it," Harry said to him, rolling his lips, "Just - don't bring it up, okay?"

"How can he not know?" Malfoy asked, sounding genuinely startled, "How else did they explain your parents–"

"Drunks who died in a car crash," Harry said through gritted teeth, hands clenched at his side.

"They - they told you that the Potters -" he asked faintly, looking at Remus and Sirius for confirmation. They nodded gravely.

"Drop it, Malfoy," Harry snarled, refusing to look at him.  

—

Dudley Dursley was the worst kind of muggle. Draco Malfoy was the worst kind of wizard. They would have been best mates if they’d been born into the same world. As it was, they eyed each other warily as Harry introduced them, both looking to him for reassurance. It was a bit hilarious.

“Draco,” Dudley said, offering his hand to Malfoy.

“Er- Dudley,” he replied, frowning as he took it and gave a quick handshake. The first contact he had ever had with a muggle, most likely.

The two gave uncomfortable looks and irritated noises every time something one of them didn’t understand came out of the other’s mouth, but otherwise were cordial. Neither antagonized the other. Even when Dudley had him go through his knowledge of fighting, he managed to say nothing and instead just grunt his acknowledgement before giving Harry a side-long glance that communicated just how inept the boy was. Harry smirked.

As promised - no one tried to touch Malfoy while he was learning. Harry mostly sat that first lesson out, sitting on the sidelines and translating ‘muggle to wixen’. He took part in the stretching and warm up exercises at the beginning, which were similar enough to quidditch practice - which Malfoy commented on and nearly collapsed to the floor with shock when Dudley had replied ‘What’s quidditch?’ - and provided examples of various moves when asked. It felt too much like showing off to do his own usual practice while Malfoy was so far behind.

The pampered boy caught on well enough, though, especially when Dudley handed Harry a strike pad and told Malfoy to start aiming his punches in the direction of Harry’s chest. If Harry took the excuse to insult Malfoy’s friends, quidditch prowess, father - well it was all in the name of inspiring him.

By the end of the session, Malfoy was landing hits reliably enough that Dudley decided that, if he kept it up, next time they could begin sparring against each other. 

—

A week before the start of term, Harry found himself back at No 12 Grimmauld Place, sitting in the library with Regulus Black. 

Regulus had ended up meeting with Hermione in a muggle cafe to apologize for the deception - supervised by Remus and Sirius, who sat far enough away to give them privacy but with wands on hand. The conversation had veered, to her delight, into house elf rights. While she was still somewhat skeptical about how trustworthy he was, she certainly warmed up to him. There were also no indications that he had done anything to betray the Order and he had mentioned something to Sirius that ended up assisting their defenses. By all accounts he honestly had fully turned away from Voldemort and was just keeping his head down to avoid being tracked down and killed.

Now that it was nearly the start of term, Regulus had asked to meet with Harry to make sure the boy was up to date on everything to do with the horcruxes. 

“You know, I’m used to people hiding things from me because I’m too young,” Harry said skeptically after Regulus finished explaining what horcruxes actually were and how they were made. He was trying to cover up how sick he felt, the topic was gruesome and it was chilling how utterly nonchalant Regulus was about the whole thing.

“Yes, that’s worked very well for you,” Regulus noted dryly, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “Don’t forget, Harry, I’ve seen what you’ve been through in the past three years and have heard details about the two years prior as well. It’s clear that the Dark Lord has some tie to you, and I suspect that you’ll find yourself involved in the remaining horcrux - seeing as two have already crossed your path by sheer circumstance.”

Harry swallowed thickly, thinking about the prophecy saying that he was the one who had to kill Voldemort. It did seem like his entire life has been laid out thanks to that one choice by the noseless bastard. If he’d just decided to go after the Longbottoms… That was a horrible thought, of course, it wasn’t like Neville had a good life. 

“Okay,” Harry said, because Sirius had been watching the situation and was starting to lean forward with a concerned look. 

“I’m going to show you the cave,” Regulus said, pulling the pensieve closer on the table and staring at it with a vacant expression, “It’s possible that you’ll believe it’s where the Dark Lord has a horcrux hidden - because, well, it had been. But it’s no longer there, and I don’t think my brother would forgive me if you risked a lake full of inferi for nothing.”

Sirius growled softly, a disgruntled noise and Harry wasn’t sure who it was directed at.  He hovered over the pensieve.

“Dumbledore showed me some of the Death Eater trials with his,” he said, “then I saw my dad and his friends and Snape in school,” he was rambling, he was nervous, “that wasn’t supposed to happen, of course, Snape still hasn’t looked me in the eye since it happened…”

Regulus placed a hand on his shoulder, and the firm pressure helped him to stop talking. He nodded once, and they both leaned into the swirling, silvery liquid.

It was terrible. At first it was just dark, dank, wet, miserable. The way he imagined any cave likely would be. He felt a chill and shivered, though he wasn’t sure if temperature could be felt within a pensieve memory. 

The memory of Regulus was young, barely older than Harry. He reminded Harry a bit of Sirius when he had gotten out of Azkaban. Not starved, but not eating enough. Pale, gaunt, haunted. Kreacher looked just as bad, trembling from head to toe.

“He had come here with the Dark Lord,” present Regulus explained quietly, looking at the memory of Kreacher with pain in his eyes, “He knew… he knew what we were going to face.”

They made their way across the lake with a boat that was already there. Both figures silent as the grave. They came to an island with a strange basin, a seashell next to it, and Kreacher began sobbing.

“Kreacher, these are my commands as your master,” the memory of Regulus spoke, his voice quivering. The elf continued sobbing, shaking his head. “You must feed me the potion, do not stop no matter what else I say, this is a formal command that overrides all future commands I give you.”

“Master Regulus–!” Kreacher wailed, “No! You must not be asking Kreacher for this!”

“Once you have emptied this basin, you must take the locket out of it. Replace it with this,” he dug into his pocket, holding up a replacement locket, and pressed it into the elf’s hands, “Then leave this cave and destroy the locket. Those are my orders, Kreacher, you must obey.”

At no point did his voice become firm or steady. It wavered, cracked, broke. Tears fell down his face. Regulus was visibly terrified. 

In a moment, Harry understood why. The potion seemed to physically pain him. He was begging Kreacher to stop, the elf sobbing as he was compelled by magic to continue forcing it down his beloved master’s throat. Harry felt sick again, wondered briefly what would happen if he threw up within a pensieve memory. 

When it was over, Kreacher switched the lockets. As that held his attention, the desperately thirsty Regulus lunged for the edge of the lake - he leaned down and took a drink.

Hands flew out of the water, bony and rotten flesh barely hanging from them. They dug into him, clawing, dragging him beneath the water while Kreacher’s screams cut through the air...

It wasn’t like any other time he had come out of the pensieve. Even being dragged out by Snape’s nails digging into his shoulder and his face clouded in rage wasn’t anywhere as awful as coming back from this memory of the cave. Harry found himself trembling, covered in a cold and clammy sweat, and sincerely believed he might just throw up all over the Noble and Most Ancient Library of Black.

Chocolate was pressed into his hand, unsurprisingly Sirius had picked up Remus’s go-to response to emotional distress, and he ate it automatically. The sweet taste and smooth texture helped his nerves to settle. 

“That was horrible,” he managed out, and Regulus laughed. It was the first time he had seen the younger brother laugh, and it was a quiet hissing noise that shook his shoulders and crinkled his eyes. 

“It truly was,” Regulus agreed with a shudder, running a hand through his hair, pale fingers disheveling short black curls. 

—

After the incident with the pensieve, Harry didn’t have any reason to see Regulus again. He appreciated this, as he had to try and refocus on schoolwork and not on the looming possibility that random pieces of Voldemort’s soul were floating around somewhere, making him effectively immortal.

The next day he went to the Burrow, needing the cozy warmth of the Weasley family. Ginny was visiting Luna today, which meant Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the only kids there. Ron seemed to be blossoming under the extra attention his parents were giving him now that the twins had moved out. He was standing up straighter, even taller for the extra few inches he had shot up over the summer, and actually took Hermione’s advice on how to style his hair. Hermione was shooting him appreciative looks for it.

They spent time in their animagus forms. Hemione was discovering what she was able to do as a raccoon - she had increased dexterity, was able to read, but there were limits to what she could remember. The differences in how her thought processes worked, the overlay of instinct and simplifying of emotions, was something Hermione found particularly fascinating as well. 

Ron, meanwhile, found it comfortable to spend time as a dog. Much like Sirius, he found it a great way to just relax and ease his nerves. That Hermione discovered she enjoyed reading while the dog was curled up at her side, well, that certainly helped.

Harry’s form wasn’t as social. Or, perhaps, he wasn’t. Whatever it was, whenever he was in his falcon form he had a strong urge to fly. Sitting around listening to someone talk at him or seeing what he could read with his ultra keen sense of sight - all he wanted to do was spread his wings. The falcon could fly even faster than his Firebolt, and read the wind currents in a phenomenal new way. It was like he was a part of the sky in a way he could only dream of on the broom. He had even been considering quitting the Quidditch Team - flying on a broomstick just seemed lackluster now. Then he had snuck out to Hogwarts with Malfoy and remembered how exhilarating it was to compete.

—

"So, how soon into school will we have our first DA meeting?" Ron asked. They were lounging in the sitting room, listening to a quidditch game on the radio. Their OWL results had come through, they’d gotten Os in DADA and Ron firmly attributed this to Harry’s teaching skills. It certainly hadn’t been Umbridge. 

Harry sucked in a breath at the question, truthfully he hadn’t thought about the DA once the entire summer. The battle at the Ministry had run a lot of the thoughts about the school year out of his head, and then he stepped off the Hogsmeade Express and into the mess with Regulus. 

“Erm, well, I wasn’t planning to,” Harry said, clearing his throat uncomfortably, “I’m Quidditch Captain this year and we’re at NEWT levels, erm, I don’t really think I’ll have the time…”

“Oh,” Ron said, his shoulders sagging and his face falling.

“But - you know, you could keep it going,” Harry suggested, raising an eyebrow, “You’ve been there for loads of the things I’ve done - or helped me prepare for it - and I’m sure Herminoe would help out as well.”

“Me?” the redhead asked, his eyes widening, “You really think I can do it?”

Harry sat up and stretched, taking a minute to genuinely think about it. There would probably be some hiccups, he remembered Ron calling the first years ‘midgets’ during his prefect duties. He looked over at Ron and smiled, “Yeah, absolutely, you’ll be great.”

Chapter Text

Living with two Order members meant that Harry already had a protection detail for the journey to the train. Tonks joined as well, insisting they needed a proper auror, but Sirius muttered to him that they were just excited to see Harry off. He grinned at that, Tonks had been looking more cheerful as the summer went on and he was glad to have her company. 

Harry did not spend his time walking through the crowd of King’s Cross Station scanning for a familiar head of pale blond hair. Or, he did, but was looking for the Lovegoods. He found them and was relieved to see Neville already chatting with Luna, looking like he was enjoying the conversation. Despite extending invitations, Neville’s grandmother had not let him visit Harry or the Weasleys that summer. Harry had seen him once at St Mungo’s, Sirius and Remus occasionally visited the Lovegoods as they had been friends, but it had been awkward. Augusta was incredibly proud of her grandson, but it was tempered by the element of tragedy in it. No matter what Bellatrix Lestrange had deserved - taking a life was a serious thing.

It made Harry wonder if perhaps he needed to work through the whole Quirrell incident from when he was 11. Fortunately there were plenty of distractions so he didn’t need to bring that up.

He went over and greeted them, and soon found himself in a compartment with Neville and Luna while Hermione and Ron went through their prefect duties. Neville and Harry were both silent at first, they hadn’t spoken properly since the discovery of the prophecy that could have impacted both of them, and Luna mentioned that it seemed wrackspurts had gotten into the compartment. 

“They’re invisible,” she explained, “They float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy.” She began waving her hands in the air as if batting away invisible moths, and Harry and Neville hastily began talking about quidditch.

It felt like prefect duty had taken a particularly long time and Harry was relieved when Hermione and Ron finally returned.

“Wish the lunch trolly would hurry up, I’m starving,” Ron said longingly as he slumped into the seat beside Harry. “Hey Neville, Luna,” he waved at them with a smile, “Guess what - Malfoy’s not doing prefect duty.”

Harry sat up straight, raising an eyebrow, “What’s he doing, then?”

“No idea, didn’t see him,” Ron replied with a shrug.  Harry looked over at Hermione who didn’t appear any more interested than Ron.

“Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad,” she said coolly, remembering how Malfoy had been given the power to take house points from Hermione for ‘being a mudblood’. “Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that.”

Before Harry could respond, a third year girl arrived in the compartment with letters addressed to both Harry and Neville. Invitations from Slughorn. The two boys shared an exasperated look. While they appreciated his tutelage in potions, specifically they appreciated not having to deal with Snape anymore, the man could be rather insufferable to be around. 

Then Harry frowned at the letter, “Wait - if he’s sending us this, does that mean he’s a proper professor this year?”

“Isn’t he the bloke who’s been teaching you potions?” Ron asked, sitting up enthusiastically, “Does that mean no more Snape?”

They discussed the possibilities briefly before Harry and Neville set off. Harry did his best to look into the compartment windows to try and spot Malfoy, and was disturbed to find Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle with no sign of him. Brooding over this served as a welcome distraction from the experience in Slughorn’s compartment, which turned out to be the first meeting of what he called “The Slug Club”. It was a rather agonizing experience of Slughorn rattling off the accomplishments and connections of everyone invited that left Harry feeling vaguely slimy in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It seemed like exactly the sort of thing Malfoy would have wanted to be involved in, which further led him to wonder what the hell the boy was up to. 

Malfoy didn’t appear during the feast, where Harry was quite disappointed to see Snape was still attending. When Dumbledore announced that Slughorn had, indeed, taken the post of Potions master and that Snape would be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry couldn’t restrain himself from letting out a loud “No!” of protest.

As soon as the feast ended, Harry stormed up to Gryffindor Tower and his dormitory, pulling the curtains around his bed closed, remembered the silencing charms and privacy wards, and took out the mirror.

“Sirius!” he shouted, chewing on his thumb and wishing he could pace.

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” his godfather asked, looking slightly concerned as his face came into view.

“What’s going on with Malfoy? He wasn’t on the train or at the feast,” he said, scowling.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and chewed his lip for a moment, “Right. Kind of thought he’d have told you - erm, yeah, Draco’s not going this year. Cissy didn’t think it was safe.”

“But I thought Hogwarts was the safest place in the world,” Harry said blankly, although the significant amount of evidence to the contrary did suddenly come to mind.

“Haz- you were literally kidnapped from Hogwarts and delivered to Voldemort’s feet in fourth year,” Sirius pointed out with a wince. 

“That’s - it’s not my fault, is it? Because we snuck out?”

“What? No, of course not, she’s been considering this since she found out the Dark Lord wanted him to take the mark,” he said reassuringly.

Harry sank back against the headboard. Not going back to Hogwarts. He didn’t exactly like the boy but he didn’t think he deserved that, either. Then, he supposed he could understand not trusting Dumbledore to keep him safe after everything Harry himself had been through. 

“What about his lessons?” he asked vaguely.

Sirius shrugged, “We’ve got it covered. Between the Tonkses, Cissy, Moony, and myself we’ve got a strong knowledge in pretty much every subject. He’s not happy about it, but he also likes the one on one attention so I think he’ll be alright,” he gave a lopsided smile, “We’ll still have time to give you advanced defense lessons, of course.”

“Oh. Right. Snape’s Defense professor this year,” Harry said dully.

“Merlin… You don’t want to take his class, right?” he asked and Harry shook his head emphatically, “Right - we’ll take care of it. Moony’ll tutor you privately, like Slughorn did last year, he’ll probably teach Neville as well. Never really got over that the poor kid’s bogart was Snape.”

Harry let the topic continue while he tried to distract himself from Draco Malfoy.

—

The next morning, the sixth years went over their OWL results and what NEWT courses they’d be taking. Hermione, of course, was able to take every course she desired. Neville wasn’t able to continue in Transfiguration but had done well in Charms, and Professor McGonagall promised to write his grandmother a note when she found out that the witch had discouraged her grandson from taking Charms. Ron was disappointed to find out that, with Slughorn taking over, he could continue taking potions. He had been looking forward to the free period, but Hermione convinced him to take it even though it meant having to get a used book from the school’s stores.

“I’m not taking any classes with Snape,” Harry told his head of house flatly when it was his turn.

“Professor Snape, Potter,” McGonagall corrected him.

“He’s not my professor,” Harry pointed out, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at her, “Remus and Sirius will teach me defense - and probably Neville as well.”

“Be that as it may, you should still speak with him with respect,” she cautioned him.  

Harry shrugged, he hadn’t forgiven him for what had happened at the end of the last term. If he could have dropped his attitude for just five minutes to confirm Sirius’s safety, none of them would have gone to the Department of Mysteries.

Frankly, it left Harry thoroughly unable to believe that the man was on the Order’s side, and he silently congratulated himself on not spitting that he was showing the Death Eater considerably more respect than he deserved.

McGonagall changed the topic to Quidditch.  Apparently there were already 20 hopefuls and, as Quidditch Captain, Harry needed to arrange try outs. Katie Bell, Ron, and Ginny were the only members of his team remaining, and Ginny had been seeker - Harry’s position. It was expected that he would just take it back, but he had to admit that Ginny was good. He didn’t feel right just taking it from her. 

Fortunately, he found her in the common room later that day.

“Ginny - I don’t want to take the seeker role from you just because I had it first. Will you do seeker vs seeker with me? Best out of 3 - winner gets to be Gryffindor Seeker?” he asked her with a grin.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Alright, then, Potter.”

Term had only just started so they were free to head to the practice grounds that evening. They let Gryffindor know and a good chunk of the house followed. Harry brought out the snitch from the broom shed and, as he had with Malfoy, they both went on school brooms to keep it more even. They bowed together as if they were dueling, laughing softly, and Ron was the one to release the snitch once they were both in the air.

The audience was enthusiastic, and well split in their support of Harry and Ginny. It was wonderful to fly with a cheering crowd, the wind in his hair, chasing after the snitch. 

Unfortunately, his broomstick just felt too limiting now. He yearned for his wings, the speed with which he could dive through the air as a falcon. After she caught the snitch for the second go, leaving them neck and neck and the final round would be the decider, he very briefly considered letting Ginny win. But knew he couldn’t do that to her. And she would know.

He got his head back into the game, determined to catch it. They spotted the snitch at the same time, zooming for it at the same time, arms outstretched, it would be a matter of centimeters to decide who would win.

His fingers brushed metal, but he was just too late. It was ripped from his grasp and Ginny held her hand in the air, howling with victory.

He felt relief. She would make a great seeker. He would spend the quidditch practices flying through the forest. 

—

After Ginny’s victory, Harry made his way to Professor McGonagall’s office. It was late, but it concerned quidditch and he knew that the Scottish witch cared a great deal about it. He took a deep breath and knocked on her door, the knowledge of what he was about to do hanging heavily on him.

“This is a surprise, Mr Potter, come, sit,” she said, gesturing for him to take a seat across from her.

“Thank you, professor,” he said, fidgeting with his fingers, “As you know - Ginny has been a great seeker. I asked her to take part in a small competition with me to see who was the best seeker, and she beat me two to one.”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, “I see. That’s quite admirable, Mr Potter, most would have simply taken the position and made Miss Weasley try out for something else.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, well, Ginny is going to be the Gryffindor Seeker and I - I’m not going to be on the team this year.”

For a long moment the witch regarded him before slowly nodding, “I see. I will certainly be sad to see you go. That… does raise the question of your position as captain. It’s a role only for members of the Quidditch Team, of course.”

“I think Ron should do it,” Harry said, “He’s brilliant with strategy. I know his confidence is – but it’s just his confidence. Me and Hermione will help, too.”

“Fortunately, I agree with your assessment. Being the youngest of 6 brothers has certainly done a number on Mr Weasley’s self esteem. I had hoped that his role of prefect would have helped, but unfortunately the twins decided to give him a considerable amount of grief,” she pressed her lips into a line, “I will give Mr Weasley the good news then. And, once again, I must commend you on a remarkable show of moral fiber.”

It felt like more praise than he deserved, but he didn’t say anything while he bid his farewells and ducked out.

—

It had been a long time since Harry had thought about the Mirror of Erised, but he was reminded of it after Ron was told he’d been given the role of Quidditch Captain. He had seen himself as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, and Harry realized that he was well on his way to this goal now. After he got back from his meeting with McGonagall, he let slip that he’d asked her what he would need to do to become Head Boy - and was in awe that she gave him a genuine answer. Hermione was impressed, Katie Bell and Ginny were skeptical, and Harry felt like Ron was finally getting what he deserved. 

Unfortunately, his insecurities gripped him again once they got to the dormitory. Ron went over to Harry’s bed, fretting over whether he could actually do this, asking if Harry was mad for giving the roles up. 

“Ginny deserves the role of seeker,” Harry pointed out emphatically, “She’s better than I am! And it’s the only role I’m any good at.”

“Katie should have been made captain,” Ron moaned, digging his fingers into his hair, “I’m going to muck it up. I was rubbish last year. Everyone’s going to hate me.”

Harry looped an arm around his shoulder, “You’re great when you get out of your head. You helped us win the cup last year. And look at how you are with chess - you’re brilliant with strategy. I’m rubbish at it, I don’t know what McGonagall was thinking making me captain…”

Ron gave a weak smile, muttering thanks and heading back to his own bed.

—

The first potions lesson was interesting. It was the first time that they worked from a book rather than from the instructions that Snape put on the board. Slughorn still spent an inordinate amount of time hovering near Harry and making remarks, all laced with famous names that Harry imagined he was supposed to be impressed by. Hermione was frazzled, the potion wasn’t coming along as well as she was accustomed to. 

Unexpectedly, Ron was shining. Every time the professor passed by Ron’s cauldron, he sang the red head’s praises. Ron was decidedly pink by the end of the lesson and Hermione was glaring daggers at him. 

He did so well that he won a small vial of Felix Felicis. It was perhaps the first time Ron had ever won anything like that. 

“Weasley, right? You’re Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley’s boy?” Slughorn asked as he looked over Ron’s Draught of the Living Death, “Both are strong, magical lines. I’m not surprised there’s some potions greatness in your blood.”

This did not improve Hermione’s mood.

“I guess being under Snape’s thumb really got in the way of your potions abilities,” Harry offered awkwardly, trying not to look as gobsmacked as he felt over Ron’s unprecedented success. Ron looked somewhat like he had eaten spiders. 

As Hermione stormed off, Ron dragged Harry to the side and pulled out his potions book. “You can’t tell Mione,” he said, shaking, and opened the book to show alternate instructions scrawled on the side of the page. Harry stared at it, open mouthed.

“I just followed these instead, mate, I didn’t think I’d win the bloody Felix Felicis!” Ron continued, staring at the book wildly and looking around to make sure no one was watching them.

“That’s brilliant!” Harry said, taking the book and flipping through. There were instructions on almost every page.

“What’s Hermione going to say, though? You saw her, she’s furious,” Ron pointed out sadly, “Maybe we should trade books. No one will be surprised if you’re suddenly doing well - you got private tutoring and you’re, well, you.”

Harry frowned at that, “I’m still rubbish at potions, Ron. It’s your book, anyways, if you don’t want to use the instructions - don’t bloody use it!”

“Just don’t use it? Are you mental?” Ron shook his head, clutching the book to his chest. He had apparently talked himself into it. “We shouldn’t just throw away an opportunity like this…” 

—

The next day brought the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Now that Umbridge was no longer an issue, Remus was able to arrange to teach Harry (and now Neville) on campus and without subterfuge. As much as possible, he arranged for them to be at the same time as the other sixth year Gryffindor’s DADA classes, simply to make scheduling easier for the boys. When he was away for full moons or Order missions, he’d arrange for someone else to take over. Most likely Sirius, Tonks, or Moody.

The lesson went, unsurprisingly, very well. This was essentially the third year that Remus would be teaching Harry, at this point they knew and trusted each other, and Remus had seen Neville fight in the battle at the Ministry of Magic so had an idea of what the boy was capable of. On top of having taught him during third year, of course. Neville was deeply relieved not to have to deal with Snape again, although he had first day nerves and Remus spent a bit of time privately talking to him about what happened at the Ministry while he had Harry continue practicing the nonverbal spells he had started that summer.

Afterwards they took a few moments to wipe the grins off their faces and look unaffected as they walked to meet Ron and Hermione, who would be getting out of their first lesson with Snape.

“Well, he’s better than Umbridge,” Hermione said once they got back to the common room. The three boys gave a snort at that. It was a low bar, and as much as he hated Snape - he had to admit he couldn’t be worse than Umbridge. “He outright talked about defending ourselves against Death Eaters and using magic in a real fight. No other professor has done that, not really.”

“Well, Moody kind of did,” Ron noted, “Though - he turned out to actually be a Death Eater as well. Snape is, too, guess they understand the need to fight.”

Hermione grimaced, then gave a small smile, “Remus’s lessons over the summer holiday really helped - Snape is having us do non-verbal spells, and we’ve come along quite well with those so we’re a bit ahead already.”

“Not that we let on, though,” Ron muttered darkly, “Mione even mucked hers up a few times just to be careful. We don’t want to let him know how far along we’ve come.”

“I want to believe Dumbledore is right to trust him,” Hermione said wistfully, “Really, I do, but we just can’t afford the risk…”

They all brooded on this before heading to the Great Hall.

Chapter Text

A few days into the term, Harry received a note from Dumbledore asking Harry to go to his office that evening. Harry frowned at it, still bitter from last year when the man had completely ignored him, but it wasn’t like he could really refuse the request. He let Ron and Hermione know where he would be going and made his way through the familiar halls. As he did, he practiced putting up his occlumency shields, arranging his mind in order of importance for what needed to be protected, keeping as many topics that he didn’t care about freely accessible at the forefront. 

The old headmaster greeted him amiably, and Harry managed a smile as well. He avoided his gaze, looking around the room and giving a more genuine smile when he saw Fawkes. He took his seat and looked at the desk, able to get a proper look at Dumbledore’s hand, which was black and withered and bearing a ring that Harry didn’t recognize. His stomach lurched as he remembered the warning about horcruxes - that certainly looked like the kind of evil damage he could imagine a piece of Voldemort’s soul doing. Was it too much to hope that this was the last one, they were all gone? His heart beat faster in his chest.

The lesson that day was another round with the pensieve, similar to how it had been in his fourth year when Dumbledore showed him the trials of various death eaters. This time they followed a Ministry Official, Ogden, visiting a broken down house. It reminded Harry of the Shrieking Shack, and the young man living there was in a state not dissimilar to the first time he had met Sirius - grimy, dirt caked, and mad. He spoke in parseltongue as well. 

Through the course of the memory, Harry discovered that these were Voldemort’s relatives - the house belonged to his grandfather, Marvolo, the young man was Morfin and there was a pitiful young woman, Merope, who was Voldemort’s mother. Harry also saw Tom Riddle senior, a strikingly handsome young man that Merope had almost certainly used magic to trap him into a relationship.

At one point in the memory, Marvolo wildly waved his hand around, shouting about the ring on his finger proving their family as the direct descendents of the Peverells, a name that meant nothing to Harry but apparently meant everything to the Gaunts. Harry knew they were also the direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Not that this did anything to improve their state in the world, living in squalor. Merope seemed quite weak as well, to the point that her father accused her of being a squib.

The Peverells’ ring, Harry realized, was the same one currently sitting on Albus Dumbledore’s withered hand. 

After he determined the fate of the Gaunts, he tried asking the question that felt most urgent, “Sir - did you find that ring at the Gaunt house? That we just saw?”

“Too late, Harry, You shall hear that story another time,” Dumbledore said pleasantly.

“Professor,” Harry said sharply, “Last term, eight of your students fought a dozen death eaters because you withheld information from me. If Remus and Sirius hadn’t told me you had access to that prophecy - we could have really put ourselves in danger trying to save it,” his nostrils flared and he took a breath to steady himself before straightening his back and finally meeting the man’s eyes, “Perhaps now is the perfect time to tell me where you got that ring.”

The familiar sensation of being x-rayed. If Dumbledore noticed his occlumency walls, he showed no sign of it. Harry wasn’t foolish enough to think he hadn’t noticed them, though.

“I have planned to share this information with you this year, but hoped to share it in a way I felt was most digestible,” the old wizard explained cautiously. Harry gave no response, just waiting for an answer to his question. Dumbledore pressed his lips together, “Very well, then,” he held his hand up with some difficulty, supporting the withered hand with his healthy one, “Yes, this ring was procured from the last residence of the Gaunt family.”

“That’s how your hand was injured,” Harry added, leaning back into the chair. That meant two horcruxes had done considerable damage, and there were more out there. Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed as he evaluated Harry.

“Thank you for your indulgence, professor,” Harry said with a weary smile that he hoped would help assuage some of the concerns he knew that he had just raised by pushing back so firmly. 

—

Harry’s head was spinning as he left the office. He made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, waving off any attempt to talk to him, he went straight to his bed, drawing the curtains and setting up his usual privacy spells before pulling out parchment, quill, and his two-way mirror.

“Sirius!” he called into the mirror, propping it on his lap as he placed the parchment on his Transfiguration textbook and began scribbling down as much as he could remember about the session.

“Harry? Wha- you okay?” Sirius replied quickly, looking startled by the strange angle. Harry wasn’t sure if any of himself was actually visible, 

“I need to talk to your brother as soon as possible,” he replied, not looking up as he continued making notes. His tongue was poking out of his lips as he focused, trying to remember every detail of the memory and the ring, having no idea what might be relevant.  

“I - okay - you’ll explain later?” Sirius asked warily and Harry grunted in the affirmative as he sat back and read over his notes.  The mirror went blank again and he realized he had no idea how long it might take to get ahold of the other Black brother.

As it turned out, it took very little time. Fifteen minutes later the mirror came back to life and he picked it up properly this time. For a moment Harry thought it was Sirius again, but then he recognized that the eyes were paler, his features slightly softer, and the hair curly. He renewed his privacy spells just to be safe.

“You asked to speak to me?” the man asked with a small frown.

“I think Dumbledore found another horcrux - he said it was at the Gaunt home, that’s the family Voldemort’s mother was from,” Harry said hurriedly. 

Regulus hissed in a breath, “You’re certain he said that was where he found it?”

“Yes.”

“Dammit - I’m certain Bella was given one… That means there’s more than the three,” Regulus growled, closing his eyes as a pained expression crossed his face. He shook himself and looked back at Harry, “Thank you. Do you have any more information?”

Harry looked down at the hastily scrawled notes he had made, “Ehm - would you be willing to wait for, like, ten minutes? I want to tell Ron and Hermione about this as well and don’t want to keep going over it.”

This was agreeable, and Harry was relieved to find his friends in the common room. It didn’t take more than a request to convince them to go with him, and soon all three teenagers were set up on Harry’s bed. Ron held up the mirror to face Harry, and Sirius’s mirror appeared to be propped up. Regulus was sat at the library in Grimmauld Place, quill in hand, with Sirius and Remus next to him.

Harry covered everything. The damage to Dumbledore’s hand, what the ring looked like, as much about the memory as he could think of. That last part felt a bit unnecessarily drawn out, but Regulus was listening intently and meticulously cataloging it.  Something flashed in the man’s grey eyes at the mention of the Peverells, and Remus and Sirius shared a concerned look as well.

“Again, thank you for this,” Regulus said, grimacing at his own notes. He glanced up, “You should burn that parchment. Hogwarts is not particularly secure and the risk of the Dark Lord finding out we’re onto the horcruxes is simply too great.”

“But Hogwarts is one of the most secure places on earth!” Hermione objected, looking distraught.

“Hermione - the bloke spent a year helping an escaped convict sneak into the school, I think he knows just how secure it is,” Ron pointed out.

“Which included stealing parchment from your dormitory,” Regulus added apologetically and the young witch scowled at the reminder. 

—

Getting her Hogwarts letter had been an amazing experience for Hermione Granger. Professor McGonagall had personally delivered the letter as part of an outreach program that Hogwarts had for muggle borns, explaining the details of the magical world and how her parents could get Hermione her supplies for school. It had been very difficult for her parents to allow her to go to an unknown school in Scotland to learn magic - but they got her everything they needed. Those weeks before term started, she had devoured everything about magic she could from her textbooks. She read Hogwarts: A History until she could recite it forward and backwards.

As a child, she had struggled to relate to her peers, always feeling out of place. She genuinely enjoyed most of her schoolwork, leading to taunting and jeers. Finding out that she was a witch gave her hope that, maybe, this was why she never felt like she belonged, and she did everything she could to prove that she belonged with the students who had grown up around magic, even practicing spells.

Then it turned out that Hogwarts was much like her other schools - her studiousness got her laughed at and ostracized, and she found herself crying in the toilets. Her friendship with Ron and Harry helped tremendously. Even though she never managed to befriend her dorm mates, and even the professors would give her trouble for her overenthusiastic approach to class, she had friends who ultimately appreciated her. 

The occasional shouts of ‘mudblood’ rolled off fairly easily at first. It stung, but Gryffindor defended her and reminded her that she was valued and wanted. Then, the summer before fourth year, seeing Death Eaters attacking muggles at the Quidditch world cup - for the first time she truly realized that some people truly believed she had no place in that world. Finding out that Voldemort returned, the ministry placing Umbridge in charge, battling Death Eaters - more and more, Hermione was worried about whether or not she would ever truly belong. 

It also made her feel so far away from her parents, too, she didn’t dare tell them what was going on. She was terrified that they would try to keep her away from Hogwarts. Even though she was going to be an adult by wizarding standards in just a few weeks, by muggle standards it was a year before she was of age and her parents could make decisions for her like pulling her out of school.

She was afraid for her family, her friends, and her own life. The only thing she could think of to do was bury herself in work, hoping that if she got the top marks and learned as much as possible, she could finally cement her place in the world.

—

The Quidditch tryouts were a welcome distraction. Hermione didn’t care too much for the sport on a personal level, but being close friends with Ron and Harry meant that it had become an important part of her life. Now that Harry had left the team and Ron had become captain, the tryouts felt more important than they ever had. Ron was strong with strategy, his accomplishments at chess certainly proved that, but his performance last year had been rather lackluster. Whenever his confidence wavered, Ron fell apart.

Gryffindor wasn’t sold, as a whole, on the roster change. While Ginny was up to the task of proving her mettle as seeker, Ron was wobbling far more. It was ridiculous, honestly, Ron could spend hours prattling on about the strengths and weaknesses of various players and strategies and techniques - but as soon as it was tied to his captaincy, he froze up. 

Harry and Hermione both went straight to the stands when it came time for tryouts. Harry was even wearing a hat pulled low over his head, hoping that this would somehow draw attention away from him, and Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. He never had gotten comfortable being ‘The Boy Who Lived’, and it had only gotten worse in the last few years. He truly did want to let Ron shine, but the rest of the world seemed hell bent on putting Harry above everyone else. He hated it, and Hermione could empathize.

A large and irritating gaggle of silly girls showed up, realized Harry was no longer the captain, and made their way up to the stands. To Harry’s sheer horror, they recognized him and immediately flocked to him, delighted to be able to sit with him for the tryouts. Ron looked quite green at that development. Hermione stayed steadfast next to him, doing her best to run interference.

The tryouts went well. Aside from the rather obnoxious group of girls, everyone who showed up was serious about the game. Hermione suspected, from what she’d heard in the common room and hallways, that if Harry had been the captain there would have been loads of people showing up just to have the excuse to be near the “Chosen One”.  

It was rough at first, Ron stuttering and stumbling over himself and the absolute tosser McCormack making everything worse. As things got underway, though, Hermione watched the change come over Ron as he hit his stride. She recognized the gleam in his eyes as he started paring different people up to run various drills, watching not just how good they were as individuals but also how they worked together, how they would work as a team.  

It was thrilling, and she could smack Romilda Vane for distracting her from watching. Harry clearly didn’t appreciate the attention. 

Ginny, of course, outperformed everyone who dared try out for Seeker. Katie Bell was still the best Chaser. Ron was able to replace everyone else and looked fairly pleased, although he had to shout down McCormack who took umbrage at not being put on the team. Ironically proving that he was not a team player and that Ron had made the right call.

As soon as they were over, Hermione grabbed Harry by the arm, dragging him through the mess of fawning girls who glared at her. She ignored them, focused entirely on reaching Ron. 

“You did brilliantly, Ron!” Hermione called, grinning brightly at her friend who looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual. Which was saying something, given the growth spurt he’d had that summer.

Harry shared her enthusiasm and as they left the pitch, the two boys began chatting about the team as a whole, Ron bouncing ideas for strategy off Harry.

Chapter Text

“Has Lord Voldemort changed his plans yet, Severus?” 

They were in the Headmaster’s office, again. It had not been long since they had met to discuss Voldemort’s plan to have Draco murder the headmaster, a plan fully intended to fail - toying with the poor boy and tormenting his family before Voldemort would, ultimately, have Draco killed. This plan had been disrupted when Narcissa and the boy had fled, but Voldemort had been confident in his ability to sink his claws into Draco as soon as the boy returned to Hogwarts. 

Then, Draco had failed to arrive. 

From what Severus could tell, no one had heard from the boy. His students, particularly Pansy Parkinson, were hissing amongst themselves, speculating about where he was and what had happened. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe had responded to it by following Theodore Nott around the way they used to follow Draco. It made Severus’s chest ache to see his students falling for Voldemort’s lies, their fathers were Death Eaters and the boys hoped to also join his inner circle. Unfortunately, his position as spy prevented him from turning his students away from making the same mistake Severus himself had. All he could do was pray the war was somehow won before they committed too many crimes. 

Draco had disappeared so thoroughly that some of the Death Eaters speculated he had died. Some sneered that he’d killed himself to avoid it, or out of shame over Lucius’s failure. Severus did not believe that. Narcissa would protect her son with her life. 

Severus was checking on the progression of the curse damage from that blasted ring. The prognosis had not changed. Despite his best efforts, the great Albus Dumbledore was unlikely to see the end of this school year.

“No, the Dark Lord fully expected Draco to return to Hogwarts. It hasn’t even been a week since we realized he had not done so,” he replied tersely, “Few of his Death Eaters have Hogwarts aged children, and he lacks a strong enough leverage over them. I suspect he dares not even make the request, he cannot afford to alienate his followers after the loss of Bella.”

Albus leaned back in his chair, frowning. His face was grave in a way that Severus had not seen since the last war, “You have heard nothing from Narcissa?”

“No. I suspect she is with her sister, Andromeda, which means you would likely learn more from Black and Lupin,” he drawled with a look of distaste, “The opportunity to speak with them is certainly there, as you’ve seen fit to allow Lupin to take over my position.”

“You have made your dislike for both Harry and Neville known, Severus, it will not do well to pretend it is a hardship that they are no longer in your class,” Albus warned him, “Lupin was a fine defense professor and both boys need to be thoroughly prepared for the battles to come.”

Severus pressed his lips together. Their absence had caused rumblings amongst the students, who questioned Severus's ability to teach them. It was yet another stress which he simply did not need.

“If either of them have any knowledge of Draco’s whereabouts, they have not shared them,” Albus continued, looking out the window, over the sweeping school grounds. “I fear that I have lost their trust. Unless I can convince them it is in Harry’s interest to share the information, they will keep it to themselves.”

Severus made a derisive noise, as he always did when his least favorite subjects were brought up. “As always, I shall inform you of any changes.”

“Thank you, Severus.”

—

The full moon loomed, which meant Remus stayed home to rest while Sirius handled their Defense lesson. Now that he had shaken off most of the shadows of Azkaban, his godfather was exuberant and loud, very much the embodiment of the playful black dog he was able to turn into. He interspersed lessons with randomly sending minor jinxes at one of his two pupils to keep their reflexes up, which was entertaining. Neville was getting better at deflecting and countering. 

Remus had planned it so that there wasn’t much new material to cover, he mostly wanted them practicing what they had been learning. Which meant 2-on-1 duels. They started with Neville and Harry ganging up on Sirius, then Sirius teamed up with Neville, before Harry and Sirius went against Neville. The last configuration had Harry quite nervous. Neville always struggled with confidence, and Harry had the urge to insist he sit this one out.

Then Neville hit him in the chest with a stunning spell. 

When he came back to consciousness - Sirius had hit him with a rennervate in between blocking curses - magic was continuing to fly through the air and Neville had the same look of grim determination he’d had in the Department of Mysteries.

“Get a move on, Potter!” Sirius roared, laughing as he did, “You’re supposed to be my backup!”

Harry scrambled to his feet, wand out, deflecting a hex that had been aimed at Sirius as the duel raged.

—

The lesson went well, and was at the end of the day. Sirius took the opportunity to ask Harry to stay back so they could chat. Harry raised an eyebrow at this but agreed readily. They’d been chatting over the mirrors most days, but it was the first time that Harry was seeing his godfather since the start of term.

“I wanted to check in with you - I know you quit the Quidditch team, I know you used to love it so I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Sirius explained carefully, leaning back against one of the desks in the unused classroom they’d been assigned for the Defense lessons.

“Well, I didn’t just quit. I did a competition with Ginny and she beat me 2 to 1,” Harry explained and Sirius nodded thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t want to take the position just because I could. And, honestly, now that I can spend time as a falcon it just isn’t as thrilling to be a seeker anymore,” Harry said with a shrug, “I, er, I know that my dad was Quidditch Captain… I don’t want you to think…”

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise and then his face fell, “Oh, Haz, no, you don’t have to follow in his footsteps - James wouldn’t have wanted you to force yourself into a role that wasn’t right for you just to be more like him,” he placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and smiled at him, “Your parents would have wanted you to be happy - whatever that looked like,” he laughed then, the loud bark echoing against the stone walls of the room, “Lily never cared for quidditch, she certainly wouldn’t have minded.”

Harry grinned at him, feeling relieved. Joining the quidditch team had been one of the first ties he had felt connected to his father. He hadn’t thought about that when he quit, not realizing until he spoke to Sirius that it was weighing on him.

“I s’pose I also feel a bit guilty about just quitting - Malfoy’d been on the team, and he didn’t exactly get the choice to step down like I did,” he added, wrinkling his nose at the truth of the words. He did feel weird about Malfoy missing out on Hogwarts, but feeling guilty over it was more than the blond deserved.

“Actually - it turns out he doesn’t care much for Quidditch. He’s a fan, of course, but he only joined the team to impress someone he likes,” Sirius replied with a shrug, “Can’t really do that now, so I s’pose he doesn’t really care.”

Harry crossed his arms and frowned at this, his brows furrowing as he contemplated the idea that his former rival hadn’t even cared that much about the sport. “It’s probably Parkinson,” he muttered sulkily, “He’s always all over her.”

Sirius tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at his godson before shrugging, “Maybe. Cissy said that they were initially discussing an engagement with the Greengrasses and after seeing how well he got on with Pansy, talked to the Parkinsons,” he made an expression of utmost distaste as he said it, shuddering slightly.

“He’s engaged?” Harry yelped.

“Not formally, but those families - ugh - all do the arranged marriage thing. Mum tried to fob me off on some pureblood priss… Think it was the daughter of Rowle or something,” he gagged at the memory.

Harry glowered, disgusted at the idea, but of course Malfoy would find a way to make even an arranged marriage work for him, convincing his parents to let him pick who he wanted. And Parkinson would probably be utterly delighted, based on the way she fawned over him.  

—

Because Ron was now Quidditch Captain and Harry wasn’t on the team, the discussion of whether Harry would run the DA again once again arose. If it had been like last year, Harry would have happily agreed. Unfortunately, as soon as the first whisper of this was heard, nearly the entire school was lining up and begging to join as well.

No longer the victim of the Prophet’s slander and Umbridge’s discipline, Harry was now quite the object of interest for the student body.

There was simply no way that Harry could realistically run the DA for all of the students who wanted to join up. 

He played with the idea of inviting all the students who had been involved last year, but somehow that felt unfair to everyone else. A few students begged, insisting they didn’t feel safe unless Harry could teach them. A few of these were rather giggly girls that Hermione shooed away with a scowl.  It still made Harry feel quite guilty, though. There was a war going on and people were scared, and what if he was letting people down… What if there were students who could have survived, if Harry had just spent some time running DA sessions…

“Harry,” Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he brooded into the Gryffindor fireplace, sharing his concerns with his closest friends. “You can’t teach the entire school. You simply can’t. And Snape– he’s… he’s actually teaching us. He’s talking about fighting Death Eaters and how to protect ourselves. It isn’t like last year.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms.

“As much as I hate to say anything kind about that git,” Ron said, “She’s right, mate. Honestly, I think now that he doesn’t have you to take his anger out on, he’s a proper professor.”

“Great,” Harry muttered, scowling.

“We’re still practicing legilimency and occlumency between us, and those extra lessons with Dumbledore, and now we have to worry about,” she glanced around and dropped her voice, “the horcruxes.” Harry and Ron both grimaced at the reminder. Hermione nodded grimly before continuing, “And I– I think it’s okay, Harry, to recognize that you’re a target, and that means you need more protection than most people. I think it’s a good idea for us to focus on preparing ourselves to fight. Not anyone else.”

“Yeah… yeah, alright,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead. His scar wasn’t hurting so much, at least, the occlumency seemed to be improving that. Or maybe Voldemort realized it wasn’t worth letting a teenager bleed into his thoughts and had shut down the connection on his own side.

—

The days passed and Harry found himself feeling strangely listless. The last five years had been full of so much difficulty and upheaval. First, Voldemort was trying to achieve immortality and Harry ended up being the one to defeat him. Then a basilisk had been released in the school. The next year, Harry believed a madman was trying to break into the castle to kill him only to find out a different Death Eater had been sleeping on his friend’s pillow the whole time. After that was the Triwizard Tournament, and finally Umbridge’s tyranny. 

Now, there was a war, but it seemed to be safely outside the castle walls. From what he could tell, no one within Hogwarts was trying to kill him this year. It was just… a normal school year.

Harry checked the Marauder’s Map, out of a strange sense of nostalgia. There was nothing terribly noteworthy. The dot labeled ‘Theodore Nott’ , one of the Slytherins in their year, was pacing outside the Room of Requirement. They wouldn’t need the Room of Requirement this year, they weren’t doing anything illicit. They’d probably use the classroom that Remus was teaching Harry and Neville in. 

With a sigh he cleared and put away the map, and dug out the letter from his mother that they’d found in Sirius’s room last summer. He ran his fingers over the photo, at the face of his mother as she watched him, Harry, her son flying around on his toy broom.

“What’s that, mate?” Ron asked as he came into the dormitory, glancing over.

“Oh, er, it’s a photo and a letter my mum wrote,” Harry explained, clearing his throat and blinking away the wetness he hadn’t realized had formed in his eyes, “To Sirius. Before.”

Ron nodded, sitting down next to him and looping an arm around his shoulders. Harry handed the letter to him and watched as he read it. Ron chuckled softly at the recounting of broomstick-riding, baby Harry knocking over a vase from Petunia, scowled at the mention of Wormtail, and frowned at the reference to Grindelwald.

“That name’s familiar… Do you know who that is?” Ron asked, looking at Harry.

Harry shook his head, “No idea. Mione might know.”

“Yeh,” Ron said, his expression going sappy, “She knows everything, doesn’t she?”

—

Hermione did, in fact, know who Grindelwald was and scowled at Harry and Ron for having forgotten their magical history. He was apparently a very important figure in the first half of the century.

“In many ways, he was the precursor to Voldemort,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes when Ron flinched at the name. She pulled out the book Magical History 1900-1950 , flipping through it as she spoke. “He reached far more of the world, though, he had followers spreading across Europe and America and nearly became the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards!” 

Harry shuddered, imagining Voldemort gaining control of the magical world across the globe, “That’s awful.”

“Blimey. You really reckon he and Dumbledore were friends, then?” Ron asked, scrunching up his nose, “Hard to imagine that.”

Hermione placed the book on the desk in front of her proudly and pointed at the photo of a handsome young wizard with golden-blond hair and a merry face.  “Here he is. This was taken after he was expelled from Durmstrang for twisted, dark experiments.”

“Isn’t Durmstrang famous for encouraging the Dark Arts?” Harry asked, frowning.

“It is, yes. Imagine how awful he must have been to get expelled,” Hermione hissed. 

Harry frowned, looking at the cheeky grin of the man who had committed so many atrocities. While Tom Riddle, every time Harry had seen him, had been reserved and quiet - this Grindelwald in some ways reminded him of Sirius. 

“I suppose I can understand. He doesn’t look evil, does he? He looks mischievous, but I suppose I can see how a young man could fall for his charms,” Harry said cautiously.

“I don’t disagree with you,” Hermione said with a frown, “He’s quite handsome.” 

Ron glowered at this, “I think you’re both mental, he just looks shifty to me.”

“It’s just a good reminder that bad people don’t always look evil. He had dreadful views of muggles, he wanted to dominate muggles,” Hermione said with a distasteful sniff.

They debated whether or not Harry ought to ask Dumbledore about this. Harry was quite reluctant to do so. He was still smarting from the way that Dumbledore had shut him out last year, and irritated by how Dumbledore tended to keep him in the dark. It also seemed somewhat rude to bring up what was likely a very painful memory. While the question of an earlier friendship was speculated in the history book, the reality of their fateful duel was incontrovertible.

Whatever their relationship may or may not have been, Dumbledore had played an integral role in the downfall and imprisonment of Grindelwald. It did not seem like the sort of light discussion to have over lemon drops.

“Does it even matter?” Harry asked as he read over the dates in the history book, “It would have been well over fifty years ago… It’s not who Dumbledore is now, right? And it doesn’t have anything to do with Voldemort, does it?”

Hermione frowned. She loved knowledge and had a difficult time accepting a loose end that she may never find the answer to. “I suppose not… Perhaps, if it somehow comes up?”

“Yes, Hermione, I promise if the topic of befriending an evil, megalomaniacal wizard comes up with Dumbledore - I will ask about Grindelwald,” Harry promised dryly, and Hermione smacked him on the arm for being so sarcastic.

—

Sirius’s newfound freedom meant that he was now able to properly, officially assist on Order missions. He even accompanied Remus on any visit to the wolf packs that Remus felt would respond well to him. 

Despite this, Sirius still found that with Harry at school, he had an inordinate amount of time on his hands and far too much energy to burn. Remus did his best to fill the time, but Remus had always been more mellow and needing rest.

What Sirius needed was a project. Something to focus on and, preferably, get his hands dirty with. Fortunately, Hagrid had kept his beloved motorbike safe and she offered the perfect excuse to start tinkering.

Thanks to the summer the year prior, with the Weasley kids staying in Grimmauld Place, Sirius had found out about the blue Ford Anglia that Arthur had spelled to fly and turn invisible. While he enjoyed tinkering on his own, he far preferred working with someone else.

So, he invited Arthur over to their new home to show him the bike and ask if he wanted to help out. Arthur had, of course, been quite enthusiastic at the prospect, looking over and gushing. He had a clear appreciation for muggle automobiles, even if his terminology was mixed up sometimes. 

As he watched the excited man, Sirius rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “Ford Anglia. Good family car. Responsible choice for a father.”

Arthur looked over, “Ah, yes, it certainly is.”

“Just between you and me…” Sirius said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “If you could have any car… what would you choose?”

With a wry smile, Arthur shook his head and chuckled, “Well. There is something to be said about a Bentley…”

A week later, Sirius drove into the garage in a 1952 Bentley. When Remus saw this, he merely shook his head and began drafting an apology to Molly.

Chapter Text

Sirius had his hair tied into a messy bun, music blasting, hands streaked with grease. It was wonderful. He’d forgotten how cathartic working on his bike was. It had become something of an obsession during the first war, though he had relatively little time with the work he was doing for the Order. Now, it was something to throw himself into when the house felt too quiet and empty and the weight of yet another war got under his skin.

When they had graduated Hogwarts, the war had been raging for nearly a decade. This time around, it had barely begun. It was also far more difficult for Voldemort to gain traction. The magical world was aware of the horrors that the Death Eaters were capable of, so far fewer would willingly join. They also had hope. They knew that Voldemort had been defeated once. They knew that Harry had held his own against Voldemort twice since his return. 

By all accounts, it was incredibly difficult for the Death Eaters to recruit. Some pureblood families were willing to secretly pass money under the table to support the cause, it was believed the Parkinsons and Zabinis were doing so, but refused to publicly support him. It was predominantly young wizards who were too young to remember the first war and too enticed by the promise of power. 

If only he could show all of them a pensieve memory of Barty Crouch Jr huddling in his cell, screaming for his mother. That was the future that awaited most of them, assuming they survived that far.

There was also a large exodus of muggle borns, particularly those old enough to remember the first war. The Ministry was working with the International Confederation of Wizards to help families find refuge across the magical world. 

Order meetings were predominantly being held at the Burrow. Considering that the Weasleys made up a sizable percentage of the Order, it only made sense to give into Molly’s requests. Dumbledore  wasn’t sending Remus on missions that were nearly as dangerous as they had been in the first war, which they hoped was a sign that things weren’t as bad. Sirius’s magic was still impacted by the 12 years in Azkaban, to his deep irritation. He was still more of a liability when it came to missions where there was likely to be fighting, but he did as much as he could. 

And when he had done that, he went out to the garage.

Which was where his cousin found him one day when they came to visit. Their hair was a dusty rose, not quite its full joyful bubblegum but also not the depressed, mousey brown it had been. 

“Wotcher, cuz - is this your baby, then?” they asked with a grin, eyes trailing over the motorcycle in a manner that could only be called lascivious. 

Sirius chuckled, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans, “This is the second love of my life, finally back where she belongs.” He ran a loving hand over one of the handlebars.

“I would love one,” Tonks said, reaching out a hand and flicking over a glance for permission before running their fingers over the sleek fuel tank, “I don’t know how to ride, though.”

“I’d be happy to teach you,” Sirius said with a grin, which immediately faltered. His eyes went to their belly, which was slightly rounded but still mostly hidden by baggy clothes. “Er- I don’t know if-”

“Yeah, I know,” Tonks grimaced, pulling their hand back and crossing their arms, glaring at the wall, “I know. Not until… after. I’m going to be put on desk duty in a month, I can’t do anything for the Order, I can’t drink, there’s a stupid list of things I can’t eat, and it’s probably not safe to learn how to ride a fucking motorcycle.”

“Having a rough time of it?” Sirius asked, waving his wand to get his tools put away and spelling his hands clean before walking over to the irate metamorphmagus.

Tonks shrugged rather than answering. Overall they had been doing well. About half the time Tonks stayed over at the New Black House - as they were calling the home they inherited from Alphard - which had started increasing after Tonks realized they could wake the wizards up with irrational midnight cravings and they were happy to help. Remus and Sirius were doing their best at being supportive but not overbearing. Andromeda went to all of the prenatal appointments, sometimes Tonks asked Remus or Sirius to go as well. The mediwitches had mostly stopped asking awkward questions whenever one of the wizards was there.

It seemed like not having a partner to go through the pregnancy with was a large difficulty, especially when so much of the information packets talked about ways a partner could support someone. There were some things that it just wasn’t appropriate for a cousin to do that a romantic partner could.

“I can’t - I don’t - I know I keep going back and forth on this, but, ugh, I just want my life back, Siri. I feel like a monster, but I’m not ready to be a parent,” Tonks said miserably, their color fading. 

Sirius nodded, hugging them, “Well, you can always talk to Remus about feeling like a monster.”

Tonks gave a snort of laughter, “Self-flagellating idiot.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sirius said with a smirk, directing his glum cousin back into the house and to the kitchen. They couldn’t have alcohol, but hot chocolate was still on the menu. “You’re allowed to change your mind, too. I will never tell Harry this - but I remember a few times that Lily broke down in tears about how she couldn’t do it and it was a mistake and she was throwing her life away. She loved that little boy, she was just having a hard time.”

“Mum said the same thing.”

Sirius nodded, putting the finishing touches on the hot chocolate - star shaped sprinkles that twinkled and glimmered in whipped cream that looked like clouds - and passed one mug over to his cousin who managed a small smile and thanks before their face fell again.

“I… I don’t think it’s like that, though, I don’t… I know I decided to keep it, but…” Tonks sighed, poking one of the stars then sucking the whipped cream off their finger.

“There’s a difference between thinking someone deserves a chance to live and being able to take that responsibility yourself,” Sirius said, flicking the stars into the shape of the little dipper. It wasn’t something they were allowed to have as children, it seemed like something he should have been able to do with his cousins, if they’d been allowed to be kids rather than heirs.

Tonks frowned, placing a hand on their belly and nodding slowly, “Yeah… I like that way of putting it… Thanks,” they looked down and furrowed their brow, “I know you and Remus said that we’d both be welcome here - but… erm… have you two… would you consider…”

Sirius took a sip of his drink, almost certain he knew what they were asking but wanting them to say it for themself. 

“I mean, do you even want to be dads?” they asked, grimacing and ducking their head as they busied themself with their own drink. 

“I would,” he said softly. 

20 years ago, Sirius would have said no. He hadn’t thought he was father material, with his upbringing he was terrified he couldn’t safely raise children. Then Harry was born, and he felt that rush of love everyone talked about. It was a bad time, of course, trust was breaking, the Marauders were falling apart. But when Remus was finally able to visit and Lily convinced him that he could hold the baby without breaking or infecting him – the look on Remus’s face while he gazed into Harry’s eyes… Yeah, Sirius wanted to be a dad.

“And Remus?” they asked in a small voice, still not looking up.

“He’s afraid, he thinks he’s too dangerous. We- it’s entirely up to you, hon, I mean it, we don’t want you to feel pressure in any direction. But, yeah, we’ve talked about it a lot since you told us. I think he wants to - he’s, god, you should see the amount of books on child development he’s bought,” Sirius gave a small laugh.

“Do you think - I mean - there’s only a few months,” Tonks said, chewing their lip, “If he doesn’t want-”

“I’ll talk to him,” Sirius promised, taking their hand and squeezing it, “To be clear - would you like us to adopt the baby?”

Tonks nodded, glancing away, “I feel guilty, but at least you’re family. Good family, I mean, and you’re close to mum - she… she doesn’t want to raise another kid, not at her age, but she’d be devastated not to know her grandchild.”

“It’ll be alright. And, look, no matter what - there are so many people who love you, okay? That kid’s going to have more support than they know what to do with,” he promised.

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right,” they took a deep breath and smiled, their hair going pink again.

—

The weather had not quite turned. The days were still warm. But, it was autumn, and neither Remus nor Sirius were inclined to let a pesky thing like hot days stop them from curling up together under a blanket in front of a fire. It required a few cooling charms, of course, but what was the point of having magic if you didn’t use it to cuddle?

“Tonks and I had a chat today,” Sirius began, watching the flames dance as long fingers trailed through his hair, “They’re almost certain that they don’t want to keep the baby.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, but the fingers didn’t pause in their movement, “Okay…”

“Dromeda doesn’t want to start over with a newborn.”

“I can understand that,” Remus said cautiously.

“You know what I want,” Sirius said. They’d been talking about it for months, after all. It had always been hypothetical, of course, not worth getting worked up over. It helped that they’d had custody of Harry for over a year without much incident. A teenager who was fairly self-reliant was a far cry from a newborn, of course, but about half of Remus’s objections had been negated by pointing out their experience with their godson.

They occasionally inched into the territory of ‘even if not this baby- someday’ that Remus was using the war as an excuse not to entertain. Which might have felt like a cop out, except Remus couldn’t bring himself to make any plans for a future in which the war was over and they were both alive and together. Not after last time.

“You know… you know how I feel about it,” Remus said warily.

Sirius sat up so he could look Remus in the eyes, “I do. The same fears you’ve had for as long as I’ve known you. Just - answer me, yes or no. If you knew we could keep them safe, would you want to adopt this baby?”

“I–” Remus looked away, taking a shaky breath.

“Yes or no, Moony.”

A quick, stiff nod. 

Remus wasn’t comfortable with wanting things. Children was a subject that, Sirius knew, he had written off as something he’d never be allowed after he was bitten. That was his father’s influence, something that may have been well placed but had done considerably more harm than good.

“Thank you,” Sirius said gently, kissing his cheek.

“This - it isn't like Harry. In the absolute worst case scenario where, for some reason, Harry is stuck in the same place as me on the full moon without the potion - I could barricade myself into a room and Harry could keep himself fed and clean and cared for. A baby cannot. For years. I-” Remus shook his head, “I don't feel safe being the parent of a baby, Padfoot. Maybe- I- would it be possible for you and Andromeda to legally be the parents? If anything happened to you - I just- I don’t think - I’m sorry, I can’t - not on my own…” Remus was rambling, staring at his hands, and Sirius cut him off with a kiss. 

It wasn’t ideal. Then, nothing was. They couldn’t even legally get married, both being men. The Ministry had also spent the last few years tearing apart werewolf rights, and there was a genuine risk that after the war there would be a strong anti-lycanthropy sentiment. There had been last time. Not that Sirius found this out until well after the fact. And Dumbledore had just left Remus alone – well, that was the past. Remus would not be left alone again. 

This time, Sirius was doing everything he could to secure Remus’s future. He’d worked with his lawyer to set up inheritance and a trust and had managed to add Remus as an owner of the property they were living at. Sirius had set up as many protections for Remus as both muggle and magical law allowed.

“You know if anything did happen to me, the Tonkses wouldn’t abandon you, right?” Sirius asked gently and Remus flinched. “Look - we’ll talk to Anisa about what protections are best for the child, okay?” Anisa had worked miracles with Harry’s guardianship, and continued doing so whenever there was a hiccup that needed smoothing over, and both wizards had come to trust her.

“Alright,” Remus agreed softly, “If- If Tonks is certain, then, we’ll do whatever Anisa advises.”

Sirius grinned brightly, curling back up with his boyfriend.

—

The term ticked on and brought with it another private lesson in Dumbledore’s office. Once again, they fell into the pensieve. Harry found himself in Voldemort’s long past, watching a much younger Albus Dumbledore visit an orphanage to tell a lonely young boy that he was a wizard. Much the way that Hagrid had for Harry all those years ago.

Unlike Harry had been, Riddle was a cruel child. He had already learned how to use his powers. “I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.” 

Harry shuddered as the child finished his speech. 

The memory continued, and Harry came away with an understanding that Tom Riddle had used his magic to torment muggles from when he was such a young boy. It was as if he had been both evil and powerful from birth.

They came out of the scene and Dumbledore discussed it with Harry, highlighting a few aspects of it that the old wizard had found most relevant.

“And lastly - I hope you are not too sleepy to pay attention to this, Harry - the young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies. You saw the box of stolen articles he had hidden in his room. These were taken from victims of his bullying behavior, souvenirs, if you will, of particularly unpleasant bits of magic–”

“Like his diary,” Harry said, only realizing he cut the professor off when the man raised his eyebrows, but he gave a smile and gestured for Harry to continue. “The first thing that Tom had said to me, in the diary- Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink - and it had preserved his memory of how he’d opened the Chamber of Secrets, and killed Moa- er - Myrtle - and also how he got it over on the school, framing Hagrid.”

When he finished speaking, Harry realized that he had become rather excited, speaking with his hands and leaning forward. He cleared his throat and sat back in the chair.

Dumbledore nodded, “That’s quite correct, Harry. An excellent connection. This magpie-like tendency, for this, particularly, will be important later.”

—

After that, Harry was excused and he once again headed straight for his dormitory to sequester himself under the privacy of his bed. Ron and Hermione had been waiting for him and followed him immediately. He got out parchment and quill and began writing out everything he could remember about the memory as Ron called through the mirror to establish the connection.

This time, they had known that the meeting with Dumbledore may require Regulus’s attention, and the two Black brothers were set up in the library.

After recounting everything, Regulus tapped his wand against the page and frowned, “Perhaps I’m missing something, but I don’t believe the information from this memory has brought any new insight… We’re aware that the Dark Lord is powerful and cruel and likes his trophies…”

“Maybe it means more of the horcruxes are like the old diary? They just look like normal children’s toys or school supplies?” Harry suggested uncertainly.

“I hope not… We’ll never find them if we’ve got to be wary of every second hand textbook…” Ron said, shuddering.

Harry hesitated, swallowing thickly and thinking about the ‘Half Blood Prince’. He would ask his friend about it later.

“I feel dreadful for poor Merope, though,” Hermione said sadly, “Imagine being pregnant and so alone and desperate…”

They all shared a moment of silence for the disturbed young woman who had died bringing Voldemort into the world.

“Oh - Potter - last time you told me about a vision that focused on a ring, said to be from the Peverells. You described it as being inscribed with a certain shape. Was this it?” Regulus asked, holding up a paper on which was inscribed a triangle split with a line, with a circle inside it. 

Harry frowned, “I think so, yes, that looks right.”

“It’s the symbol of the Deathly Hallows…” Regulus said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “The Peverells are believed to have been the Three Brothers of the legend, and this was the Peverell family crest.”

“The Three Brothers? From the Tales of Beedle the Bard?” Ron asked curiously. Hermione and Harry gave him a confused look even as Regulus confirmed and Ron balked. 

“Come off it!” said Ron, looking in disbelief from Harry to Hermione. “You must’ve heard of Babbitty Rabbitty!”

“Ron, you know full well Harry and I were brought up by Muggles!” said Hermione. “We didn’t hear stories like that when we were little, we heard ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ and ‘Cinderella’ — ”

“What’s that, an illness?” asked Ron.

“As I was saying!” Regulus called, “It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. If the Gaunts were, in fact, descended from Slytherin then it isn’t unlikely they were also descended from the Peverells. I don’t know what significance there is… but I don’t want you to miss anything because you weren’t aware.”

Harry hesitated, “That is the complete opposite of how Dumbledore handles things.”

Regulus smiled. It was perhaps the first genuine smile Harry had ever seen on the young man’s usually stoic face. “Why thank you.”

“I’ll try to get another look at the ring next time I see Dumbledore. He’s been wearing it since the start of term,” Harry added, drawing the symbol on a piece of parchment to carry around.

“Albus Dumbledore… has been… wearing… a potential horcrux…” Regulus asked carefully, his face an emotionless mask.

“Yeah, his hand is all black and injured looking…” Harry looked at Hermione, who had an exasperated expression, and Ron, who was looking startled.

“He’s been acting cagey about what happened to it in Order meetings,” Sirius said, leaning over his brother’s shoulder, to which Regulus scowled and swatted him away. It was the first time he’d joined in the conversation since handing the mirror to Regulus.

“I’m… sure he has his reasons,” Regulus said with a worn sigh.

—

After Regulus was done discussing the memory, he handed the mirror to his brother to check in with his godson. Once the mirror went dark, Sirius placed it face down on the library table that they were sitting at and buried his face in his hands.

“Would you like me to pretend not to have noticed that your dearest friend had a cloak that bears a remarkable similarity to one of the Death Hallows of legend?” Regulus asked, continuing to make notes on the paper, not looking up.

“I would appreciate that, thanks,” Sirius grumbled.

Regulus nodded, scratching his notes down and flicking through books.

—

As they got ready for bed, Harry asked Ron if he could grab the Prince’s book and just check the publication date, to be safe. While the first edition of the book had been old enough that it could have belonged to Tom Riddle, it was a far more recent publication. That specific book had been produced in 1975.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Ron said, looking pale at the thought that he had managed to get ahold of another of Voldemort’s old school things after what had happened to Ginny.

“It might have been while my parents were in Hogwarts, then,” Harry said eagerly, “I don’t recognize the handwriting - maybe we should ask if Remus and Sirius do.”

Ron took the book back and frowned, holding it protectively, “Maybe… I don’t suppose it matters, though, does it? Who wrote it?”

“I guess not… Although, if we knew it belonged to someone trustworthy, then you could feel better about copying it, right?” Harry offered hopefully. For some reason, he was very curious about the Prince’s identity. 

“What if they take it off me, though?” Ron asked plaintively, “I’ve never gotten marks this good! I need his help, Harry.”

“I could copy it, right? I’ll use a duplication spell before my next Defense class and I can ask Remus…” 

Ron still seemed reluctant, but ultimately agreed.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, the ‘Slug Club’ was something that would be occurring regularly throughout the year. Without the excuse of Quidditch practice, Harry lied and said that he was doing important work for Dumbledore. Leaning on the private lessons that he was having with the headmaster. 

The truth was that Slughorn still made him incredibly uncomfortable, and being paraded around like a prized poodle was something he refused to do. Slughorn already used nearly every potions class as an excuse to gush about how he had privately tutored Harry and Neville, attributing their successes to this fact. Admittedly, Harry and Neville were doing much better this year thanks to Slughorn’s lessons. It was the way the man congratulated himself for being associated with Harry that set his teeth on edge.

It was not such a miserable experience for his friends, fortunately. Ron and Ginny came away from the first one positively walking on air. Slughorn had invited Gwenog Jones, the Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, to the event. 

Ginny was now seriously considering a professional Quidditch career, bouncing on her feet as she recounted how Gwenog - “She told me to call her Gwenog!” - gave her information about how to appeal to scouts and mentioned she might keep an eye on Ginny during the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game, since Gwenog often came to cheer on her house. 

Ron had gotten a chance to chat with her as well. “Captain to Captain, Harry! Can you believe it?” Ron asked, beaming. 

Harry could, in fact, believe it because it was the fiftieth time that Ron had told him what had happened. Hermione, meanwhile, seemed quite irritated.

“Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself,” Hermione sniffed, but Ron didn’t seem to notice.

Meeting one of his Quidditch idols had done wonders for Ron, despite Hermione’s dark mood. Harry attended as many Quidditch practices as possible, and Ron had a newfound confidence. He coached the team masterfully and came up with a daring strategy that made the best use of his new, unknown-to-the-school, teammates.

“Those snakes don’t stand a chance,” Ron crowed gleefully as he finished out the final practice before the Slytherin v Gryffindor match. 

Hermione had watched the entire practice, her mouth falling open. The cold must have been getting to her as well, because her cheeks were quite flushed by the end of it. Harry offered her his scarf, and she took it with some embarrassment.

—

Once again, Harry was in the stands watching Gryffindor play. It was bittersweet. Last year, he had reluctantly accepted Umbridge’s punishment to avoid causing problems for the people he loved. This year, he had realized his desire to play Quidditch was waning. The Seeker vs Seeker game he'd had with Malfoy had clearly been a fluke. Perhaps the last fluttering of the dying ember. 

It was good to watch Ginny fly. The witch was still full of enthusiasm from her talk with Gwenog and even from the stands he could see the look of determination on her face, the glint in her eyes. He leaned forward in his seat, half forgetting the rest of the players existed.

The Slytherins in the stands made a valiant attempt to once again bring up their version of ‘Weasley is Our King’ to mess with Ron. Harry could tell that his friend had a few moments of nerves at first. The commentary from Zacharias Smith about how awful Ron had done last year was threatening to get under the Keeper’s skin. The Slytherins got the Quaffle and made their way to the goalposts–

“- Weasley saves it, well, he’s bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose…” Zacharias drawled irritably and Harry grinned.

Ron’s strategy began kicking in, his Chasers worked together as if they’d been playing on the same team for years rather than months, and the Slytherins were left furious. 

The Gryffindor stands boisterously broke out in their own version:

Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King.

Harper, the Seeker that had replaced Malfoy, shoved against Ginny and Harry felt a flare of rage - but Ginny shoved back, knocking the larger Slytherin with her elbow hard enough that he doubled over, then she shot up. Smith sounded almost disappointed when he announced that Ginny had seen the snitch, and the whole stadium looked up to see the flittering golden ball just moments before Ginny’s glove-clad hand grabbed it.

Gryffindor won 250-0.

Harry, along with the rest of the stands, leapt to his feet and roared his approval. It was incredible, and he was unexpectedly glad to be part of this. Here, he wasn’t the center of attention. No one cared that The Harry Potter was in the stands. All they cared about were the players on the field, and Harry was just an anonymous part of the crowd, a boy like any other.

After he hugged Neville, Seamus, and Dean - all of them jumping up and down with excitement - he finally turned to Hermione. To his surprise, she was not cheering. She hadn’t even stood up. She was sat on the bench, her hands clenched tightly, her face severe. Harry felt his heart sink, the joy he’d felt faltering. 

The stands began emptying and he leaned over, “Hermione? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“I am not talking about this right now, Harry,” she replied in a clipped tone. She took a deep breath, stood up, squared her shoulders as if she were about to face a dragon and strode with purposeful steps out of the stands. Harry followed behind her, utterly bewildered. 

They went to the hallway that the Quidditch changing rooms were in. Ron was stepping out, beaming.

“Ronald Weasley,” Hermione said sharply, and the tall, red-headed boy froze, his smile slipping. He looked confused and also terrified and Harry didn’t blame him. He’d be terrified as well, if Hermione was walking towards him looking like that.

“What–” Ron asked weakly, then Hermione had grabbed his face in her hands, pulling him down and pressing their lips together. Ron was stunned, his entire body had gone still, then Hermione pulled away, looked over his face and began to step away, but Ron shook himself out of his stupor and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in for another kiss.

Harry suspected that his friends may not be making it to the post-game party.

—

The way to Gryffindor tower felt strangely lonely.  It wasn’t like he always had Ron and Hermione with them… Well, he always did after a Quidditch match. And he usually did in general. They hadn't spent quite as much time together that summer as they had in the past, because Harry hadn't slept over at the Burrow for all of August, but he saw them nearly every day. 

He was happy for his friends, of course, they’d been dancing around this since fourth year - if not sooner. If it weren’t for Umbridge, maybe they would have gotten together last year, but that pink toad put a damper on things. It was hard to think about romance around someone like that.

He made his way into Gryffindor Tower. He was greeted with a few shouts of greeting from people. Then he noticed a flash of ginger hair and looked over to see Ginny, closely wrapped up with Dean Thomas. Harry’s mouth went dry at the thought and something in his stomach soured. He had thought– nothing, really, he hadn’t thought anything. It didn’t matter. He was happy for them… They looked so… engrossed in each other. He turned away. 

“Hey- Where’s my brother gotten off to?” Ginny clapped him on the shoulder and Harry managed to smile at her, trying not to notice the signs of what she’d just been doing with Dean. “Thought he’d be eager to get back here, since he’s the man of the hour,” she said with a cheeky grin, “Had us all worried last year, but he nailed it.”

“Er, well,” Harry cleared his throat, his face warm, “He and Hermione, erm, I think they’re having a more, er, private celebration…”

Ginny raised her eyebrows then threw her head back and laughed, “That’s brilliant! I wondered if those two would ever sort themselves out! I gotta tell the twins - they had a betting pool going.”

She clapped Harry on the shoulder again and Harry cheered the team’s success with her. He went around, chatting and laughing with his friends. A group of girls kept circling him, particularly Romilda Vane, to Harry’s great irritation. Luna was there in her massive, lion hat - which occasionally roared to the delight of the Gryffindors, who were coming to embrace Luna’s eccentricities. She mostly seemed to gravitate towards Neville, which Harry wasn’t surprised by, considering what they had all been through. 

It wasn’t long before he made his way up to his Dormitory. The parties weren’t as fun without Ron. He looked out the window and glanced around the empty room, as if expecting someone to be there. He pushed the window open, turned into the falcon, and took to the sky.

The November air was crisp and invigorating. His keener senses and simpler mind helped the worries and frustrations fade away. 

On the broom, the Hogwarts grounds felt massive and sprawling. They were still fairly large… Harry would have thought they’d feel even bigger to the small bird, but somehow he felt the urge to fly farther afield. 

That day, he let his instincts more completely lead. He remembered how Sirius would sometimes need to curl up as Padfoot to escape the reality of his life. Harry’s situation wasn’t nearly so dire… well, his godfathers didn’t seem to agree with that, actually, they had spent some time helping Harry recognize the traumas he’d been through. 

At some point, he spotted a familiar motorway exit and realized just how far he'd come. It was the direction of the Tonkses’. That made sense, he supposed, having just attended the Quidditch match that Malfoy should have been playing in, maybe on some level he wondered how the Slytherin was doing. Maybe when the blond boy had told Sirius he didn't care, it was just to protect his ego. Or maybe it really all had been about wooing Parkinson… 

The falcon screeched irritably at the thought, but he had made it this far. 

The house was recognizable from the skies, and even in falcon form Harry was still allowed smoothly inside the wards. Fortunately, Malfoy was outside. He was playing with the Snitch, releasing and immediately catching it as he sat under a tree, in a way that reminded Harry of James Potter from the memory he had seen last Spring. But instead of showing off, Malfoy was alone and looked quite bitter.

Harry had perched in the tree, looking down curiously. The leaves were falling in the cold November air, and when the Snitch fluttered off in Harry’s direction- Malfoy caught sight of him.

Catching the golden ball without taking his eyes off the falcon, the young wizard continued staring at him, watching. After a few minutes Malfoy relaxed against the tree, his face becoming curious. Admittedly, it probably wasn't every day he found himself being stared down by a bird of prey.

“I don't believe I've seen you around,” Malfoy said with a wry smile, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head, “I hope you aren't planning on hunting the thrushes and finches that live around here. There's precious little to do and I might just lose my mind without being able to watch them.”

Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably and looked away at the reminder of the boy’s dreadful situation. At least when he was at the Dursleys, he'd been able to send letters to his friends. He fluttered down to a lower branch on a tree not far from Malfoy.

Malfoy turned his attention to the Snitch, holding it with the fingers of both hands and turning it, tracing over the swirling design. “The match is today. I should have been playing.”

“He is,” the boy said with a wistful sigh, and Harry cocked his head curiously. All the Slytherin team were boys, something Hermione and Ginny vocally disapproved of. Malfoy could have meant any of them. 

Malfoy smirked at the falcon, “Not that you'd know who he is, of course,” he chuckled bitterly, “Or maybe he's even famous in the animal kingdom. Birds coming from miles around to see him.”

Ah. It sounded like he was talking about Harry. And a jab about his fame. The falcon ruffled his feathers irritably. 

“I hate that I missed it. After that horrible cow banned him last year,” Malfoy was practically growling, his hands shaking around the snitch and Harry stared in disbelief. “I nearly quit. He was the only reason I bothered joining the team.”

‘He only joined the team to impress someone he likes,’ Sirius had said.

With a dull thump, Malfoy leaned his head back against the tree and looked up, “That first match… all I could think was that I never wanted it to end. The blasted Snitch, I swear it knew, it practically followed me. At one point it was next to my ear, but I couldn't bring myself to be the one to end it.”

He glanced over at the falcon with his eyes, a pale grey, like moonlight. It felt like the first time that Draco had looked at him without a cruel sneer or furious glare. 

“Pretty fucking pathetic, I know,” he said ruefully, then shivered and stood up, stuffing the Snitch in his pocket as he did so. He stomped towards the house, turning back one last time to look at the falcon. “Mind what I said about the thrushes and finches, now. You've got the freedom to go anywhere you please. So go hunt somewhere else.”

The back door closed with a sharp click and the blond boy vanished into the house. The falcon stared after him for a long time before setting off on the long journey back to school.

—

He managed to get back to school at the tail end of dinner time. He slipped into the Great Hall and ate in a daze. So much had happened that day. 

Ron and Hermione were dating. Or at least snogging. Actively. Possibly at this moment. 

Dean and Ginny were dating.

Draco Malfoy… bought his way onto the Slytherin team just to play against Harry.

It also confirmed that his godfathers weren't passing information about Harry to Draco. Not that he really expected they would, but Draco wasn't aware that Harry had quit the team. Which was easier to think about than everything else.

He wasn't ready to go back to Gryffindor Tower and sincerely hoped that his godfather wasn't busy that Saturday evening. He slipped into an unused classroom and set up privacy wards to be safe. Then he pulled out the mirror and called through.

After a few pleasantries, he asked what was on his mind. “Why would a person bully and be mean to someone they have a crush on?”

Sirius groaned and grimaced, which was not a response Harry had expected.

“You saw another one of Snivellus's memories about your parents? He really needs to stop leaving them lying around…” Sirius said, looking exasperated. 

“What?”

“I know, James was an absolute tosser when he was younger… We can talk about the exact time you saw, but it happened a lot,” Sirius continued and Harry just stared, dumbfounded. Truthfully he hadn't thought about the memory of Snape that he had seen. His godfathers had, as promised, spent some time showing him pensieve memories and, now that he thought about it, may have glossed over what Lily and James's interactions looked like before they started dating.

“After Lily rejected him in first year, James got it in his head that bad attention was better than no attention and at least when he was teasing her - she had her eyes on him. Even if they were blazing with anger, brilliant burning emeralds he called them, he couldn't get enough, and he couldn't bear the indifference,” Sirius explained and Harry’s mouth went dry at the similarities to his own experiences. 

“We were all young idiots. Okay, Moony tried to convince us to stop being prats - but we didn't listen. I thought it was hilarious and –” his face darkened the way it did whenever a memory involving Wormtail came to mind “ – well. You saw that memory last year and I told you about how your grandparents helped us realize what berks we had been.”

“I remember,” Harry said softly.

Sirius nodded. He took a moment to collect himself, then his face grew determined, “Look, anything you see from Snape- Lily loved James. They were so good together, honestly, they were the kind of couple that made everyone else feel inadequate. They connected so well. They had a few shaky years, but once James was able to stop antagonizing her and let her see what a good person he was - your parents loved each other. Please don't ever doubt that.”

“I won't,” Harry promised. Although he felt a bit dizzy at the possibilities. It wasn't the same, of course, it couldn't be. Harry wasn't Lily and – no one was James. There was no reason for his heart to speed up and his stomach to flutter. Not over Draco Malfoy of all people. 

“Thank you,” Harry added, feeling dazed.

“Any time, Haz,” Sirius said with a warm smile, “So, does that help?”

“It does, yeah,” he replied, smiling back.

“Do you want to talk about exactly what you saw?”

“No, that's alright… what you said… makes perfect sense,” Harry replied with a lopsided smile.

Chapter Text

Teaching was fulfilling. It had been, on the rare moments Remus dared to admit he wanted things, his dream for as long as he could remember. In school Remus had run as many study groups as he could manage between his condition and the Marauders, thrilling in helping his classmates master something they'd been struggling with. 

When he had gotten the job offer three years ago, he had known full well that it was somehow tied to Sirius’s escape. He had still thrown himself into it whole-heartedly and his students had performed well. Leaving that post had been one of the harder things he had to do in his life.

He was quite grateful to Dumbledore’s decision to place Snape as the DADA professor, because it meant stepping in and taking over Harry’s lessons entirely. And Neville’s, of course, he was more than happy to help Frank and Alice's boy. 

They were wrapping up a lesson on the different forms of protego when Harry came up to him nervously. This was unusual lately and Remus tilted his head.

“So, er, Ron has a second hand potions book that has a lot of notes in it and, erm, I know it's a long shot - but, well, I was kind of hoping it belonged to someone my parents knew?” Harry explained, producing a battered old copy of Advanced Potion Making.

“That is unlikely, but I understand,” Remus said fondly, taking the book, “I imagine there's no name?”

“It's just labeled “This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince.’”

"Curious,” Remus said. It didn't raise any familiarity, ‘prince' was not a magical title but those raised by muggles would still use it sometimes.

  He opened the book and immediately felt a pang of recognition. He had seen a student whose potions books were this heavily annotated. He breathed carefully, flipping through the pages, looking for anything recognizable. 

‘Sectumsempra - For Enemies’

His blood went cold.

“Harry - have you attempted any of the spells in this book?” he asked sternly. 

The boy froze, eyes wide, clearly startled by the change in Remus’s demeanor.

“I didn’t know there were spells in it,” he replied blankly.

“There are. This is Ron’s you said? Has anyone else seen this book?”

“N-no, just Ron… but… he has the original, that's just a copy,” Harry said weakly.

Remus nodded, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose, “Alright. Give me a moment to collect myself. Neither of you are in trouble. I… can confirm, at least, that the potions details are correct. In fact, I would encourage you to study them carefully.”

“Oh… good…” Harry said uncertainly. 

“Yes,” he heaved a deep sigh, “This book belonged to Severus Snape.” Unsurprisingly, this caused Harry to go still and his face to flash with a mixture of disgust and rage that reminded Remus very much of Sirius.

“I am incredibly grateful you brought this to my attention, there are dangerous spells in here,” Remus continued, scowling at the book, “You must swear not to try any of these spells without Sirius’s or my supervision and instruction. This is important, Harry, you could kill someone.”

The boy went pale. 

“However, despite his… enthusiasm for the Dark Arts… Severus is an accomplished potions master and, even in school, was quite skilled. I do believe you can trust his guidance in potions without hesitation.”

Harry nodded, grimacing, looking at the book with the utmost distaste. 

“May I assume that, while following these directions, Ron has been successful in class?” Remus asked gently.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered. He pressed his lips together, “He's been getting the best marks. We haven't told Hermione about the book, she's furious.”

“Well… I admit that we were more than happy to flaunt the rules, so I may not be the most objective person on this matter - but I would argue that you are, essentially, getting private tutelage from Severus. If you frame it like that and share the notes, perhaps Hermione will be able to accept it,” Remus offered with a small chuckle. 

—

The news about the Prince’s book was not what Harry had been hoping for. In some ways it was dire, with dark magic that could kill. Harry believed this was true, Remus had never tried to scare him away from anything without good reason. 

At the same time, it confirmed that the potions information was solid. It was, in a way, like using guidance from their former potions professor. He was pretty sure that Snape would loathe knowing that Ron and Harry were doing better in potions thanks to his work, too, and Harry appreciated anything that would piss off Snape.

Neville, Hermione, and Ron were waiting for Harry in the corridor. 

Ron and Hermione, thankfully, had not gotten terrible about publicly snogging the way certain other couples had. Hermione was as focused on her studies as ever, and thought to borrow the Marauder’s Map to find private places to do things that Harry preferred not to think about his best friends doing together.

Right now they were comparing notes with Neville about the different defense classes. There was almost no difference to how things had been before, except Ron and Hermione were now holding hands.

It was late that evening before Harry had the chance to talk to Ron alone. As they were getting ready for bed, Harry got his attention and explained about the book. Ron looked as disgusted as Harry had felt about it being Snape’s book, and went a bit green at the dire warnings about how dangerous the spells in it could be. 

“He really thinks the potions advice is sound, though?” Ron asked cautiously, flipping through the book. He furrowed his brow and was bouncing his leg, clearly torn.

“Snape is good at potions,” Harry admitted with a shrug, “Remus thinks we should study from it, and suggested Hermione think of it like private lessons from him.”

Ron wrinkled his nose, “Blimey, that sounds miserable,” he chewed his lip for a moment, “He’s not… he’s not wrong, though, we’ve been learning from Snape for years, right? It’s no different…”

All they had to do was convince Hermione of this.

—

It was frustrating that, even after all these years, Hermione’s friends still thought that they could hide things from her. From that first potions lesson with Slughorn, it was obvious that Ron was doing something. No one just suddenly became that good at a subject. They had spent quite a bit of time together that summer, he certainly hadn’t been secretly studying potions. Ron had been quite put out about having to take the subject after thinking his grades had been too low to continue. 

It seemed most likely that this was something involving the twins’ venture. She hoped not. Outright cheating to this level was too far.

But she wasn’t going to throw her friends under the bus without knowing what was going on, so she just kept a close eye on them. Particularly Ron. The fact that Ron was becoming more confident in other areas of his life as well, and Hermione found she appreciated that, well, it had nothing to do with her trying to investigate Ron’s suspicious potions prowess.

Perhaps she should have gotten to the bottom of things before she kissed Ron. Hermione had not planned on doing that. Her feelings had been complicated and messy and while she was considering asking Ron to be her date to Slughorn’s christmas party, she didn’t know if her feelings were returned and if it was even a good idea. 

Then, at the match, something about the way Ron led the team to victory… Well. Hermione was a Gryffindor. So, she summoned her courage and kissed the boy she had liked since 3rd year. Which went very well, even if they did both worry about how to make sure Harry didn't feel like a third wheel.

A week later, her two friends finally, sheepishly, admitted they had been hiding something. 

They produced the battered, old potions book that Slughorn had give Ron.

“It used to be Professor Snape’s,” Harry explained and Hermione raised an eyebrow, because Harry never spoke so respectfully about the man - not that Hermione blamed him. “Remus confirmed it. So… there is advice in it, but it really isn't any different to getting extra lessons from Snape.”

Ron nodded along, shuffling nervously and not quite able to meet her gaze. 

Hermione pressed her lips together and took the book, opening it. From the first page it was covered in notes. Corrections and little tricks to improve the potions. It also did, in fact, remind her of the recipes that Snape had provided them since first year. 

“You've had this since the start of term. Why are you telling me now?” she asked sharply.

“I didn't feel right about hiding something from my girlfriend,” Ron mumbled, still not looking at her. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it and he nervously glanced up. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he visibly relaxed. He had been worried how she'd react, then, that was sweet.

“Why did you ask Remus about it instead of Slughorn? Remus isn't the best with potions,” Hermione said with a frown.

The two boys exchanged a guilty look. 

“Well… Slughorn would just take it away…” Ron said.

“Remus was the one who kept Sirius and my dad out of too much trouble,” Harry added.

Hermione sighed, but continued flipping through the book. Truthfully, knowing it came from an accomplished potions master, the advice was invaluable. She agreed that they shouldn't just get rid of it. She came across a spell and frowned.

“What are the spells?”

“We don't know. Remus made us swear we wouldn't even try them without him or Sirius supervising,” Harry said, with a meaningful look at Ron.

Ron held his hands up, “I don't want to. I'm just trying to pass Potions.”

“Alright,” Hermione said carefully before straightening her back and looking at them both sternly, “But. You've been absolutely wasting this if you've only been following it directly. I'm going to set up a new study plan so we can understand why his changes worked and actually increase our knowledge of the subjects. I am hanging onto this for now, Ronald, I'll give it to you for class, but I need to study it properly.”

Harry pat Ron on the back sympathetically and Ron went incredibly pink. It was a new development, since they'd started dating, that when Hermione called him ‘Ronald’ and used that tone, her boyfriend would go pink. She may have been taking advantage of this.

—

Slughorn was throwing a Christmas Party for the Slug Club, and the professor had been so adamant Harry attended that he asked Harry for his availability before scheduling it. Harry could not think of a polite way to get out of it. His friends seemed to be happy about it, so, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible. 

Ron and Hermione were, of course, going as a couple. Ginny was going with Dean. Harry felt as though he was in year 4 all over again, having to ask someone to the ball. Quite a few girls had hinted heavily that they were available that evening. Then he realized that there was only one person from the Department of Mysteries battle that was not in the Slug Club - which seemed quite unfair, now that he thought about it - and knew exactly who to invite.

Of course, Peeves happened to have been listening in when he did, and soon the entire school knew that Harry was going to the party with Luna Lovegood.

Good. Hopefully more people would realize Harry and Luna were friends and fewer people would give her a hard time. 

They were meeting in the entrance hall at eight o’clock the night of the party. Somehow, an unusually large number of girls were looking there and shooting resentful looks at Luna. As always, Luna looked remarkably unperturbed by the negative attention. She was wearing a set of spangled silver robes that looked quite nice on her, even if some of the girls were finding excuses to make catty remarks over it. 

Ignoring the girls, Harry met up with his date for the evening and they began the walk to Slughorn’s office. Luna shared her father’s belief that Rufus Scrimgeour was a vampire, which Harry could no longer be surprised over. It seemed unlikely. If he were, Harry reasoned, surely the ministry would be more progressive about how they treated so-called ‘dark creatures’ like vampires and werewolves.

“You remember the Room of Requirement, Harry?” Luna asked in a pleasant, sing song voice after a lull in the conversation. 

“Of course,” Harry said with a small, startled laugh, as if he could have forgotten the place they'd done their DA meetings at.

“I was curious about it. A few weeks ago I passed by and there was already a door, it opened to a strange room full of old objects,” she continued and Harry nodded, frowning, wondering why that would be what someone needed.

“Theodore Nott was in there. He wasn't very happy to see me, of course, but students really don't give me trouble. Not after the DA lessons,” she was as cheerful as always and it took Harry a moment to realize she was saying that Nott - and likely other students - had been attacking her. He knew she was bullied - although he had hoped that would decrease - but didn't realize it was enough to warrant defense training. Or so common that she was clearly, thoroughly used to it.

“I went back a few times and was able to access it. It's quite fascinating. I think it’s separate to how the room is usually used. I've been enjoying exploring it. I wonder if Theodore feels the same,” she continued speaking, unaware of Harry’s discomfort on the subject.

“Maybe,” he agreed and she smiled at him.

Slughorn’s office was far larger than any other professor’s office that Harry had been in. Perhaps Slughorn had placed an extendable charm of some kind on it. Given the sheer number of guests, it seemed like that had to be the case. The office was draped with jewel tone hangings, giving the feel of being in a large tent. Real fairies fluttered around the chandelier and he seemed to have a live musical group, although Harry didn’t quite catch sight of them.

If Harry had any hopes of spending some time looking around and enjoying the party before running into his professor, they were dashed as soon as Harry and Luna had stepped in. 

“Harry, m’boy!” boomed Slughorn, approaching them. “Come in, come in, so many people I’d like you to meet!”

Slughorn grabbed him tightly by the arm. Harry attempted to grab Luna’s hand to pull her with him, but she was waving to Neville. She caught his eye somewhat apologetically and he waved her off. At least one of them could have fun.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires – and, of course, his friend Sanguini.”

Worple was a small and bespectacled man who shook Harry’s hand with the enthusiasm that Harry had grown weary of by the time he was 13. Sanguini, the vampire, was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes. He looked bored, and reminded Harry of meeting Remus for the first time for how unhealthy he seemed. 

“Hello,” Harry said before turning to the vampire, “Sanguini - I'm sure you've been asked this before, but did you choose your name or was that a coincidence? It's only, one of my godfathers is a werewolf and both his first and last name are a wolf pun- from before he was bitten,” Harry said, turning to the vampire. 

The two older wizards seemed to freeze, not sure how to respond to Harry Potter having potentially insulted a vampire.

Sanguini blinked at him then cracked a crooked smile, “I chose it, in fact. Your godfather is a Dark Creature, then, I was not aware of that.”

Worple seemed, somehow, even more interested in Harry than he had already been. 

“Oh, yes, have I not mentioned that?” Slughorn slipped in quickly, “Remus Lupin-” Sanguini let out a soft laugh, “-one of my former students, it was through him that I was able to offer our dear Harry private lessons last year. His partner - Sirius Black - has been considering writing a book similar to yours, Worple.”

“Is that right?” Worple asked, his smile looking slightly strained. Perhaps he didn't appreciate other people stealing his limelight. Sanguini, however, was even more curious. Harry was as well, this was the first he'd heard of it. It was a great idea.

“It is, yes, and I've been trying to convince Remus to write about his adventures between the wars. Genuine tales, after that unfortunate scandal with poor Lockhart…” Slughorn added. 

“That's brilliant,” Harry said, grinning and Slughorn preened.

“Quite the literary family,” Worple noted, “You know, Harry, I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, ‘Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?’”

“Were you?” Harry asked awkwardly. The idea made him uncomfortable. Maybe if he were older and had lived more of a life he felt like sharing. Right now, he just wanted his privacy.

“Just as modest as Horace described!” said Worple. “But seriously” - his manner changed; it became suddenly businesslike - “I would be delighted to write it myself–”

“Thank you, but I’m not interested in that,” Harry said firmly, then glanced over at the vampire who was edging away with a rather hungry look in his eye.

Worple followed his gaze and scoffed, “Sanguini, stay here! Have a pasty,” he seized one from a passing elf and stuffed it into Sanguini’s hand before turning back to Harry.

“Er- Sanguini? If there’s something else you’d like, the elves might be willing to fetch it,” Harry suggested.

“Do you think they’d have pigs blood?” he asked wryly and Harry shrugged. Given the enthusiasm most house elves took to their tasks, he could fully imagine one rushing out to slaughter a pig just to provide the vampire with fresh blood.

“Maybe. I’ve just seen a friend of mine, sorry,” he added, because he had, indeed, seen a mop of recognizable ginger hair over the crowd. 

He made his way over to where Ron and Hermione were giggling together. They were standing close, holding each other, and looking into each other’s eyes as if the rest of the busy room didn’t exist. Harry felt incredibly out of place and was about to leave when Ron noticed him.

“Harry! There you are! Where’s Luna?” Ron asked brightly, and Hermione blushed, stepped away, and then turned to face Harry with a bright smile.

“I think she’s with Neville. As soon as I came in, Slughorn grabbed me and I figured she ought to have a nice time…” Harry explained wearily, glancing around for any sign of the tasseled, velvet hat Slughorn was wearing. Ron and Hermione winced sympathetically.

“It’s quite the turnout, though, innit?” Ron said, looking over the crowd, “I think that’s the Weird Sisters over there…”

Hermione nodded, “I know why he bothers you, Harry, but he really does have connections everywhere. It’s not a bad idea to network a little bit.”

“Network?” Harry repeated. Ron grimaced slightly, and Harry got the idea that Ron had heard this many, many times before.

“Yes, network, Harry, meet the right people to help you accomplish your goals,” Hermione explained impatiently.

“Mione,” Ron said, “It’s a party…”

“Yes, one designed to let Slughorn’s most promising students make connections with important people in the magical world,” Hermione insisted.

A flash of platinum blonde hair caught Harry’s eye from across the room and for a single, heart-stopping, delusional moment he thought it belonged to Draco Malfoy. A strange excitement filled him and his friends were entirely forgotten as he took the first step over before realizing it was, in fact, Luna.

Considering that Harry himself had been the one to invite Luna to the party, this was particularly embarrassing. He was grateful no one but him knew about it.

“There’s Luna,” Harry said, clearing his throat, and gesturing towards her. She was, in fact, still with Neville. They were hanging on the outskirts and Luna was looking dreamy as always while discussing something while Neville listened with a similarly dreamy expression on his face. That was unusual for him.

The three of them made their way over, and for a moment Neville’s face fell but it passed quickly and he smiled nervously at Harry, “Er, I’ve been taking up your date’s time. Sorry.”

“No, I’m glad. I’m sure Luna’s been having much more fun with you than I have,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead and casting another wary glance around for a sign of Slughorn. The man was talking to Filch, who was holding Theodore Nott by his ear. Snape was with them as well, looking absolutely livid with his student. Harry wasn’t sure what Nott had gotten into, and didn’t mind feeling relieved that it was keeping Slughorn out of his way.

“I’ve been having a lovely time with Neville,” Luna said pleasantly, and Neville smiled shyly at her. She looked at Harry, “I’m very glad to have a friend who invited me. It’s been a nice time.”

Harry chuckled, “With the way some of those girls have been treating me this year, I’m very glad to have a friend who I could invite.”

Neville’s smile widened after this exchange. The group exchanged a few more pleasantries before Hermione saw someone she recognized and dragged Ron off with her, again mentioning networking. For some reason, Harry again had the sensation of being a third wheel and excused himself, citing that he needed the bathroom. 

It was good to get out of the party. He had found it somewhat stifling, and exactly what he had dreaded about the Slug Club. Slughorn parading him around. The professor had better not have expected Worple to ask to write Harry’s autobiography…

Harry grimaced, then heard voices coming from the hallway.

“... cannot afford mistakes, Theodore, because if you are expelled –” It was Snape, Harry would recognize his drawl anywhere by now. 

“I didn’t have anything to do with it, all right?” Presumably that was Nott.

As Harry continued down the corridor towards the nearest boys’ toilet, their voices faded. Harry wondered vaguely what Nott had gotten up to that could be bad enough to get expelled. Then, Snape had been threatening to expel Harry since his first year at the school. There was a certain comfort in knowing that Snape could be as harsh against his own year, really.

When he made his way back, he ran into Neville and Luna as they were leaving the party. They stopped and smiled at him.

“I was going to show Neville the room I was telling you about, Harry, with all of the different items,” Luna said airily, “You should join us.”

Neville looked a bit nervous. Harry considered refusing, he got the feeling that Neville would be more comfortable without Harry there. But the alternative was returning to the party…

When he walked into the Room of Requirement, he gasped and stared in open amazement. It was as if they’d stepped into a large cathedral, with high, vaulted windows allowing light to stream in and illuminate towering walls of objects that had presumably been owned by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. Towering piles of desks and chairs and broomsticks and books everything imaginable. It was dizzying. 

He could understand why Luna believed this was different to the typical use of the Room of Requirement. 

“Merlin…” Neville breathed, looking around with an expression of awe that matched the way Harry felt. Luna was preening, looking quite pleased with herself. They wandered the aisles, taking it all in, remarking on anything they found noteworthy.

“That’s an interesting tiara,” Neville said, pointing to a table that had a few pieces of old jewelry on it. “It looks like it’s seen better days, though.”

“Actually,” Luna said lightly, “I think it’s a diadem.”

It looked like a tiara to Harry, but he didn’t think it was worth saying that. Neville and Luna had been drifting closer together, somehow, and Harry was once again getting the feeling of being a third wheel. It was becoming painfully familiar, even though it hadn’t been long since Ron and Hermione had gotten together. Harry came up with another excuse to leave, and glumly made his way back to Gryffindor tower.

Chapter Text

Harry was unusually excited to be going home for Christmas. Of course, it was the first time he properly had a home to go to. 

The Ministry had arranged a short term floo connection to Hogwarts to allow students to travel to and from school safely. They had assigned times to leave, to avoid everyone showing up at once. Harry had his bag packed and was in the hallway outside McGonagall’s office early, fiddling with his wand and trying not to look as eager as he felt.

The professor opened her door and looked at him. A rare, warm smile showed on her face for a split second before she resumed her typical, terse demeanor. “I’m gratified that you chose to be punctual, Mr Potter, your guardians have an unfortunate habit of sending a patronus over every little hiccup.”

Harry chuckled, wishing her well for the holiday and rushing through to the fireplace. He still found floo travel unpleasant, but at least he wasn’t smacking his knees every time. He was grabbed up in a tight hug by Sirius before he even had a chance to brush the soot off.

If Harry had thought that Grimmauld Place last year had been festively decorated, he was not prepared for what Sirius would be like when free and in a home he felt comfortable. Christmas was everywhere. Garlands, wreaths, sprigs, ribbons, lights, fairies, baubles. There were multiple Christmas trees. In each room. Each room had a different color scheme. Harry’s room had its own 7’ tree and decorations in a white and gold theme.

“One of Sirius’s happiest memories is the first Christmas he had at the Potters’,” Remus explained to Harry when he noticed that Harry was feeling absolutely gobsmacked by the display. He showed Harry the study that had been left completely untouched. It had a soothing, classical radio station playing. “For when it all gets a little bit too much.” The same set up that they had last year.

That evening, they had take out in the living room while Sirius played some of his records. 

“Slughorn said that both of you were thinking about writing books,” Harry said over his jalfrezi.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance. “Slughorn is trying to convince me to publish books about my travels - why do I get the feeling that’s not what you mean?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Sirius smirked, “I want to write about living with a werewolf. That Blood Brothers book became a bestseller.”

“I think that’d be great,” Harry said, “The books about it are rubbish. People need to know what living with a werewolf is actually like.”

“I don’t suppose you would keep it appropriate for a younger audience,” Remus said blithely and Sirius’s smirk only grew wider. That was a ‘no’.

“How was the vampire book, anyway?” Harry asked, poking at his food and trying not to look like 

Remus made an irritated noise and Sirius gave a bark of laughter, “It was progress! Better than it could have been. Narrator loved hearing his own voice about how brave he was to be there, of course.”

“I haven’t known enough vampires to have an opinion,” Remus said in a clipped voice.

“The author was at Slughorn’s party with an emaciated-looking vampire,” Harry said, “He wanted to write my biography.”

“Emaciated?” Remus said, looking quite smug. Sirius chuckled and kissed Remus’s cheek.

“I’m hoping you said ‘no’ in a way so epic that no one else would dare try,” Sirius said solemnly.

Harry snorted, shaking his head, “I told him no then avoided Slughorn for the rest of the evening… just… thought I should bring it up… if it’s something I should figure out, he made it out like a lot of people would want that.” Harry grimaced.

“Unfortunately… he's not wrong… many people would love to read your biography,” Remus said slowly.

“You are 16, prepping for NEWTs, in a war, the primary target of a psychotic wannabe dictator, and inexplicably being groomed to hunt down dark artifacts,” Sirius growled, listing them off on his fingers, “You've got enough on your plate without a damn biography. Unless you have the sudden urge to bare your soul - fuck ‘em.”

“Padfoot,” Remus scolded, though his tone was entirely playful. 

“Okay. Good. I really… there's nothing I want the world to know. They already know too much,” he muttered bitterly. “I wish they'd leave me alone.”

The sentiment hung in the air until Sirius steered the conversation in the direction of happier things.

—

The days leading up to Christmas were overall joyful. The war was a looming specter, but it was fairly easy to forget about it while living in a house that constantly glittered and smelled of pine.

Remus retreated into his wolf form quite often, rather than having to isolate himself. The black cat that was Regulus could often be found lounging under various trees. Sirius had taken to affectionately calling him ‘Beans’- because toe beans were the cat equivalent of a dog's foot pads, he reasoned - which the cat always hissed at. Harry found himself, more than once, with two canines and a cat all lounging around him while he watched telly on the couch.

Occasionally he would go out flying as well, but he had to make sure to tell his godfathers. It turned out that the mirror became uncontactable while he was in the falcon form, leading to a very distressed patronus message. Sirius had been halfway to alerting the entire Order when Harry replied. 

Tonks stayed over a few times, and Harry noticed that the cat was never around when they were. He hoped that was out of respect for their privacy. Andromeda and Ted came over as well. They didn't say anything about the Malfoys and Harry didn't know what to ask.

It turned out that 7 months pregnant was a rather difficult time. Standing up and sitting down looked as though they were almost strenuous tasks, it affected how they walked, and they'd occasionally wince with various pains. It was not unlike Remus right after the full moon, really, which was perhaps how Remus always seemed to have the various remedies Tonks needed on hand. 

—

Christmas day brought with it something of a compromise. Molly was adamant that Harry spend Christmas with them, as he'd spent Christmas with at least one Weasley since he started Hogwarts.  Remus suggested this was a fair request, since Harry was otherwise spending the holiday with them. Sirius insisted that he was buying his godson every Christmas gift he damn well pleased and was not having him feel awkward about the wealth gap between himself and his friends. 

So, they would spend Christmas morning at the New Black house, and go to the Burrow in the early afternoon. Harry wanted to spend time with his friends, so would be sleeping over for a few days after that.

For the most part, Sirius and Molly had put aside their differences and were able to enjoy each other's company. As long as certain subjects didn't come up, because Molly had strong opinions and so did Sirius. 

Fortunately, Arthur and Remus were overall able to be go-betweens for such discussions and it never escalated between them.

There was no real concern about how Christmas day would go, at least amongst the adults. Whatever opinions anyone had, it would be put aside. Everyone deserved that. 

—

Stepping into the Burrow was like stepping into a hurricane of ginger hair. Five of the Weasley children, Fleur, and Hermione were all there for the holiday and the house was packed even before Harry arrived with his godfathers. 

Harry was greeted by six people and dragged by Hermione before he had even reoriented himself. 

“Thank goodness you're here, Molly is driving me up the wall!” Hermione hissed, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard, “Now that Ron and I are dating she's- ugh - she's interrogating me about everything! She wanted to know when I'd be having children, Harry!”

“Er-?”

“I'm 17, I want to have a career, we've only really been dating for about a month, I am not ready to talk with my boyfriend’s mother about the benefits of breastfeeding children I don't even know if I want to have!” she sounded nearly hysterical, and Harry felt incredibly sympathetic. 

“You need to find a way to take her attention off me,” Hermione groaned, and Harry hugged her, patting her somewhat awkwardly on the back.

“Well, look at it this way, Ron’s going to have to put up with your dad showing him how to use a condom,” Harry pointed out and she laughed. 

Ginny was in a sour mood over having to share a room with Fleur - who Ginny was still calling ‘Phlegm’ in sullen tones when Molly couldn't hear - and thankfully Dean was not there. Harry did not ask about this and Ginny did not bring it up. Being around her was still a bit uncomfortable, but that was easy enough to hide in the chaos. He noticed that Fleur and Hermione seemed to drift together, and shared quite a few looks. It seemed that they were bonding over the trials of dating a Weasley boy. 

Molly cornered Remus at one point to demand to know why Tonks wasn’t there. Tonks was, in fact, spending the day alone and apparently had no plans to leave the bubble bath. Molly was not happy about this and was notably frosty towards Remus.

The twins did their best to grab Remus and Sirius to pick their brains about new products. Arthur and Sirius spent some time chatting about the work on their vehicles, both glancing around to make sure Molly didn't overhear. 

They gathered around the table for dinner. It was loud and wonderful, the food excellent, and everyone was in good spirits.

Then, there was a knock at the door. To the surprise of everyone, Percy had arrived. With the Minister of Magic in tow. It was a blatant ruse, and Molly was still beside herself with joy to see her son on Christmas.

Under the flimsiest of pretenses, the Minister invited Harry to go on a walk with him. Alone. Purely to give Percy the chance to do right by his mother, Harry agreed.

“It’s fine,” Harry said to Remus, who had half risen from his chair.

Remus continued, standing, and offered a mild smile, “This is purely coincidental, I assure you. I was already on my way out for some fresh air when they arrived.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Scrimgeour’s jaw tensed. Remus passed by the wizard with a polite head nod and “Minister”, putting on his coat and walking out the door. Harry put his own coat on rather slowly, watching the Weasleys, and privately hoping that by some miracle, Percy would be able to reach out to his parents. 

They walked through the grounds and Harry wondered if the Minister was aware of the range of Remus’s hearing. The werewolf was completely out of sight, but Harry strongly suspected that he was keeping a close eye on them. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he had an uneasy, primal sense that he was being stalked by a predator. 

From the back of the Burrow, a rusty furred mastiff came lolling out, barking pleasantly at Harry and eyeing the Minister warily. It was perfectly normal behavior from a dog, and Harry patted his head. He caught a rustling of grass as well, and wondered just how many of his friends were out there. The thought warmed him.

Scrimgeour frowned slightly at the dog, but didn’t seem put off. 

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you since what happened at the Ministry,” Scrimgeour said, “Did you know that?”

“No,” said Harry truthfully. He hadn’t thought much about the Minister since the hearings had finished. He was relieved that Umbridge and Fudge had been found guilty, but fully believed this Minister would throw him under the bus the way Fudge had should Harry become inconvenient. 

“Oh yes, but Dumbledore has been very protective of you,” said Scrimgeour.

“Dumbledore?” Harry repeated. The thought of Dumbledore having any say in who Harry did or did not speak with bothered him. He still had not forgiven the headmaster for how Dumbledore had handled things last year, or how he was continuing to handle things this year. The thought of how things would have gone if Harry had been reliant on the meager breadcrumbs of knowledge Dumbledore chose to share… 

“Yes. Natural, of course, after what you’ve been through…” Scrimgeor paused, apparently unaware of Harry’s disapproval. A silence stretched, Scrimgeour looking at Harry expectantly. Harry was not sure what he expected, and wished the Minister would get on with it already and just say why he was putting the Weasleys through this farce. It was cruel.

“The rumors that have flown around!” said Scrimgeour. “Well, of course, we both know how these stories get distorted… all these whispers of a prophecy… of you being ‘the Chosen One’...” 

Ron the Dog shifted at this, and Harry resumed petting the large canine. As with Padfoot, the dog was a soothing and reassuring presence. 

There was another pause as Scrimgeour looked at Harry and Harry stared back, still not entirely clear what the Minister wanted. Confirmation that Harry had been marked to murder or be murdered by someone? Such pleasant conversation for Christmas. 

“...I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you?” 

“If I may speak plainly, Minister,” Harry said, copying a phrase that he had heard from Andromeda one of the times that she had lectured Remus and Sirius on etiquette, “I believe you overestimate how much the headmaster shares with me.”

His tone was perhaps too bitter. Yes, eventually, Dumbledore had spoken to Harry about this. Well after he should have. It had been Remus and Sirius who felt it appropriate to share as much as they could with Harry, saving him from making the mistake of risking his life and the lives of his friends for a prophecy that Dumbledore had in his possession. The dog whined, nudging at Harry’s hand. 

The Minister looked startled, and Harry felt as though it was the first genuine emotion the man had shown since the arrival.  Harry wondered what on earth Dumbledore was saying for the Minister to believe that Harry and Dumbledore were so close.

Scrimgeour’s tone was overly light and friendly as he said, “Oh, of course, if it’s a question of confidences, I wouldn’t want you to divulge… no, no… and in any case, does it really matter whether you are ‘the Chosen One’ or not?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, of course, to you it will matter enormously,” said Scrimgeour with a laugh. “But to the Wizarding community at large… it’s all perception, isn’t it? It’s what people believe that’s important.”

“In my experience, it’s best for people to believe the truth,” Harry said.

The muscle in Scrimgeour’s jaw twitched, “Yes. We are currently facing the consequences of my predecessor’s willingness to hide the truth. You’ve seen that we’re correcting this.”

Harry had not paid the slightest bit of attention to what the Ministry had done since the battle there, but he did not feel this was appropriate to say.

“You’re also aware that people think you quite the hero – which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! How many times have you faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now?”

“Five,” Harry replied.

Scrimgeour faltered, clearly he had not expected an answer, and his jaw dropped slightly. The man stared at him, once again looking genuinely startled and, in that moment, showing what Harry believed to be his true feelings. He cleared his throat, “Yes. Well. That… is precisely my point. You are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be destined, to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named– well, naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can’t help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost.” 

Harry frowned, processing what he was saying. The dog sneezed. That wasn’t what the prophecy said, though. Harry had the power to defeat Voldemort, yes, but there was an equal risk that Harry would be the one killed by Voldemort. 

The use of ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ got under his skin as well. In his opinion, Voldemort absolutely must be named. The continued fear of the name was damaging nonsense. 

“You want me to stand alongside the Ministry - what is the Ministry willing to do to ensure that it’s an organization I want to stand alongside?” Harry asked cautiously.

The Minister’s face darkened and Harry scratched behind the dog’s ears. He realized that it was something he’d seen Remus doing with Padfoot to make sure the dog stayed calm. 

“Well, we wouldn’t be asking anything at all onerous, I assure you. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror office. I’ve heard whispers that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily…” said Scrimgeour.

The man was smoothly dodging Harry’s question and landed himself directly in one of Harry’s pet peeves. The idea of being handed things just because he was The Boy Who Lived. Harry had worked hard to get an O in Potions, he was doing his damnedest in school, and to be handed a job just because the Minister wanted him to be their poster child felt insulting.

“That’s an interesting proposal,” Harry said carefully, wanting to grimace at the way Scrimgeour’s lip twitched up, as if Harry were falling for his charms. “Since you mention the aurors - there’s something I think would be good for the Ministry to do, actually.”

“Is that right?” Scrimgeour asked, his tone once again a bit too light.

“The DMLE should be working with Hogwarts to teach students how to protect themselves during the war,” Harry said, grateful that he was used to thinking on his feet, because the idea had only just come to him. As he spoke, though, he found himself feeling more strongly about it. 

“I was under the impression that Dumbledore did not approve of the Ministry interfering at Hogwarts,” Scrimgeour said carefully.

“Well you shouldn't be interfering, just offering an extracurricular study - like the Apparition lessons,” Harry clarified.

“This was Dumbledore’s idea?” Scrimgeour asked.

Harry snorted, “Oh, no, I imagine he’d hate the idea.”

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow.

“Most of the students want to learn more, they don’t feel safe,” Harry explained, remembering how he couldn’t continue the DA because too many students wanted to take part, “I know there are quite a few good aurors, a few of them have tutored me…” Maybe he shouldn't have shared that part. He didn’t care, getting people more self-defense training was worth it. “But Auror Tonks - Nymphadora Tonks - would be my first suggestion.”

The Minister looked at Harry, his face calculating. 

They stared each other down long enough that the dog began shifting uneasily again and Harry soothed him.

“That would be difficult without the headmaster’s approval,” Scrimgeour noted.

“I'm sure you can convince the headmaster that it's in the best interests of the students and the Ministry won't overstep,” Harry said.

The dog whimpered slightly, looking up at Harry pleadingly. The grass rustled as if a small animal was shifting uneasily within it. 

The minister made a considering noise and extended a hand to Harry. Harry cautiously reached out and took it firmly.

“I will speak to Gawain about your idea,” he said, “What is the best way to contact you?”

“Through my guardians. You can get the information from Remus and Sirius. While you take a few minutes to sit down and have a drink with the Weasleys and help encourage Percy to actually reconcile with his family,” Harry said firmly, meeting his gaze evenly, squeezing the man’s hand once more before withdrawing his hand. 

—

Within two minutes of the unexpected guests arriving at the Burrow- Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had suddenly had reasons to excuse themselves. Sirius smirked to himself when he heard the back door open and close, quite sure he knew what was going on. They were good kids. He also knew that Remus was keeping close tabs on the situation. As much as Sirius wanted to be beside his godson making it clear how unacceptable the minister’s behavior was, it was likely more helpful to find out what the hell the man wanted to pull this stunt and Harry was not alone.

Also, he did not feel right about leaving the Weasleys at that moment. 

Estranged family was something that Sirius unfortunately had experience with. Standing poker-straight, staring over everyone’s heads, awkward looking. Percy’s body language was painfully familiar. 

As was the stony faced observation by the other Weasleys.

Only Molly’s tearful, joyful, hopeful response was new to him. 

Sirius swallowed thickly, praying that his relationship with the Weasley matriarch had recovered enough since the disastrous summer in Grimmauld Place, and that his instincts were correct.

“Molly,” Sirius said, standing up. She looked over, her eyes wet and jaw wobbling, “A walk around the garden sounds like a good idea. Would you and Percy be willing to join me?”

All eyes were now on him, a sea of redheads - and Fleur - looking at him in utter disbelief. 

“That… that sounds lovely, Perce?” Molly offered gently, looking at her son with an expression of such open affection that Sirius almost wanted to shake the boy and demand to know what she had to do for him to accept it.  This would be rather hypocritical of him, though, considering that a year and a half ago he was digging his nails into his palms to stop from snarling at the woman when she had become overbearing.

Percy nodded stiffly, eyeing Sirius warily. The two of them had never met before. Percy would be most familiar with Sirius as the bogeyman that had haunted Percy’s final year in Hogwarts. 

They managed to get out of the house without incident. Percy took it as an excuse to flee, saying he would wait for them out front. The grumbling from the others started before the door had closed behind him. Sirius took pulling on their coats as an excuse to talk to Molly.

“I can’t promise this will work,” he said, “but - don’t talk about anyone else. Just listen to him. I - can you honestly tell him that you’re proud of the work he’s doing in the Ministry?”

“Of course!” Molly said, shooting him an irritated look, “I’ve always been proud of Percy. He knows that!”

“He might not,” Sirius said and her face faltered, “Molly- if he starts talking, you will not like what he says. Just listen. Just accept that's how he feels and hear him. Even if it hurts.”

“Is that what you wish your mother did for you?” she asked softly.

“It's what I wish I'd done for my baby brother. Every time he reached out to me - I hated what he said and I lashed out and… I lost him,” Sirius said, letting the grief into his voice. 

Molly nodded, glancing over at the dining room table where the remaining Weasleys were leaning together and muttering darkly amongst themselves. 

The air was cold. Harry and Scrimgeour weren’t in sight, likely had gone around the house, which irritated Sirius but he trusted Remus and knew the other kids were looking out for Harry as well.

“Arriving with the Minister of Magic himself,” Sirius noted, when they saw Percy, “That’s a big deal.”

Percy was still stiff. He stuck his chin up defiantly, “It is, yes. I'm quite fortunate that the Minister saw my accomplishments despite Fudge's actions and saw fit to keep me on as his junior assistant.”

Molly took a steadying breath and nodded, “He would have been a fool not to. You were always so passionate about your work.”

“A passion which I was mocked for every time I came here,” Percy noted bitterly and Sirius had to hold in a wince. 

“That must have been difficult,” Sirius said, recognizing Molly’s urge to downplay and smooth over and knowing it would ruin any chances. 

Percy sniffed derisively, but his shoulders relaxed slightly. Sirius gently reached out and placed a hand on Molly’s shoulder, hoping she would understand. 

“It was lovely,” Molly said softly, “when you would come home with Arthur, the first year you were working with the Ministry, and you two would talk about what you were up to at work.”

“Until you wanted me to risk my entire career and become a spy. For a man who let your only daughter be possessed and left for dead in a sewer!”

Molly gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

Sirius gave a gentle squeeze to Molly’s shoulder. Mother and son seemed to nearly have forgotten he was there, which was for the best. 

“At 11 years old, Ron faced a fully grown mountain troll. At 13 he had his leg broken and no one will tell me how. Don't get me started on the disaster that was the Triwizard Cup. The great Albus Dumbledore allowed a 14 year old to compete! Meanwhile an escaped Death Eater was teaching! And- and you wanted me to throw away everything I worked for my entire life for him!” 

Percy was no longer poker-straight and stony faced. He was talking wildly with his hands, his face contorted in anguish and anger, and he kept blinking away furious tears. 

“Dad nearly died for Dumbledore - I could have lost my father to that man's lunacy and no one cares how Albus Dumbledore is risking this entire family's life!” 

“A mountain troll?” Molly squeaked, “I- I'm sure- Ronald must have been exaggerating…”

“He wasn't,” Sirius said gently, casting a pleading look at Percy, who had one hand fisted in his hair, his mother's rebuffal had hit him hard.

“Albus has let those children get into far too much danger. The things Harry has done without any support have horrified me. We've stopped trusting Albus and I honestly believe it’s why I'm still alive,” Sirius said. 

Percy nodded fervently. He ran his hands roughly over his face, “Even - even if he were a saint - even if Albus Dumbledore were perfect - what was I supposed to do? Why did you expect me to throw away my career but it was okay for dad to work at the Ministry?”

“Oh, Percy, my dear boy,” Molly said, her voice wrecked. She stepped forward and hesitantly brought her hands to her son’s face. Percy didn't pull away. “I'm so sorry. I never - I never realized.”

Percy pressed his lips together, his jaw trembling and Sirius stepped back and crossed his fingers behind his back.

“Please know this, Percy Ignatius Weasley, I have always been so proud of you. Even when I didn't agree with Fudge, I was still proud that my son had worked his way up to the Junior Assistant to the Minister. And so young. I always knew you would do well, Perce, and I have always been proud of you,” she said, looking directly in his eyes. It felt as if it were a kind of reverse legilimency, that she was doing her best to pour all of the maternal love she felt into her estranged son.

Seeing it made something break in Sirius’s chest, a now familiar sensation that often meant a few hours curled up as Padfoot against Remus before he could talk about it.

Molly’s magic worked, and her son cracked, falling into her and letting himself be caught by his mother. Sirius turned and gave them some more distance, some more privacy, keeping a keen eye out for the Minister and Harry. He tapped the mirror in his pocket to reassure himself it was there.

Movement in the bushes that lined the house caught his attention. The greying wolf slipped out before returning to his human form, looking pleased. He caught Sirius’s eye and nodded his head towards the building to indicate that Remus’s quarry were on their way back. 

—

The minister had gone to such lengths to get Harry alone. Which meant that, rather than a meeting where he only had one guardian supervising, there were four observers. 

Remus had been confident that the wolf's instinct for stealth and keen hearing would be enough to allow him to oversee the proceedings. He had been correct. Then he was quite pleased to find that the three teenagers had taken advantage of their animagi forms to watch over Harry as well. 

The Minister’s request was unsurprising. Quite foolishly done. He just displayed himself as completely untrustworthy. But, Remus appreciated that. It saved them the trouble of cautious optimism.

Harry, though, had handled it far better than anyone could have expected him to.

Once they were on their way back, Remus headed towards the door quickly and was quite surprised to see Molly and Percy clinging to each other while Sirius stood a good few feet away, notably giving them privacy. 

“It looks like you've done good, pup,” Remus murmured to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as their hands twined together.

“I hope so,” Sirius agreed, looking worn, “How did that go?”

“Your godson is amazing,” Remus said, “I'll let him tell you.”

Despite the number of people who had overheard the conversation, everyone was situated comfortably in the dining room by the time the Minister made his way back. 

Percy and Molly stepped inside right after him. Percy’s face went expressionless again, but Molly had her arm protectively around her son and was shooting warning looks at her family. 

“Mr Potter has suggested that you would extend your hospitality to a drink?” Scrimgeour asked cordially and Molly brightened.

Everyone was soon situated around the table for a nice brandy for the adults and a butterbeer for the teenagers. Ron and Ginny eyed the brandy longingly and Hermione, who was already of age, took a butterbeer instead to help keep the peace.

“You two are the lads running Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, correct?” the Minister asked the twins after everyone was settled.

The twins exchanged a glance. They'd had contracts with the Ministry since that summer, when the Ministry had ordered their Shield Hats in bulk. It looked as though their familial desire to snub Percy and their business desire to keep a client happy were at odds.

“That's right, Minister,” Fred agreed brightly, flashing a winning smile.

“I believe you may have had some experience with our work,” George added, winking.

“Yes, we've been impressed. We were quite reluctant to try out such a new business, of course, particularly given your reputation at school. Percy here spent weeks putting together presentations to convince us,” Scrimgeour noted, clapping Percy on the back, “We're quite grateful he did.”

“Oh, that's wonderful,” Molly gushed. 

The rest of the Weasleys, however, the news splashed over like a bucket of ice water. Their tension and aggravation fell away and was replaced with a silent shock. 

“Percy convinced you to make that order?” Fred asked softly.

Scrimgeour nodded, acting as if he hadn't noticed the tone shift. “Mhm. He claimed you two were some kind of geniuses. I brushed him off, of course, nepotism has no place in government. He insisted, pulled together proof that you could deliver. Saved me from making a grave mistake, your competitors weren't half the quality you've provided.”

The twins exchanged a series of glances, looking uncharacteristically solemn and contrite. Bill and Arthur were visibly shaken as well. Fleur focused on rubbing her husband's shoulder reassuringly. Ginny’s brow was furrowed and she was glaring at the worn grain of the table. Molly was beaming, three of her children were being complimented by the Minister of Magic, after all.

Harry was smiling behind his mug of butterbeer. 

Chapter Text

Before Scrimgeour and Percy showed up, the plan had been for Harry to spend a few days sleeping over at the Burrow. There was no reason to change this, but Remus and Sirius did need to sit him down for a talk about what had just happened. 

Getting privacy in the Burrow was a bit like trying to find water in the desert, but Remus and Sirius had perfected privacy charms in school and secluded themselves in Ron’s bedroom. The adults went over how inappropriate Scrimgeour’s behavior was, and that if someone else tried to pull that, Harry really needed to contact a trusted adult. 

“I couldn't stand the thought of Percy leaving right then, he'd have broken Molly’s heart,” Harry pointed out bitterly.

“Scrimgeour knew that. It was disgusting behavior. Look - I don't blame Percy for this one. He's not actually much older than you, and the Minister of Magic put pressure on him to do something. He clearly didn't want to be doing it,” Sirius said, running a hand through his hair.

“Scrimgeour was willing to devastate a family on Christmas to get a vulnerable child alone,” Remus said grimly, then smiled, “You handled it impeccably, though. Far better than most people would.”

“There were a few times I thought of Andy,” Harry admitted, “And having Ron there really helped, I see why you call Padfoot your ‘emotional support animal’.”

Remus smiled fondly and ruffled Sirius’s hair. 

“Hermione and Ginny went out as well, so you had plenty of back up if it came to it,” Sirius said.

“I knew at least one of them had,” Harry said with a warm smile.

“Dromeda will be delighted that she helped you,” Sirius said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Do you mind if we bring it up when we visit them tomorrow?”

“You're visiting the Tonkses tomorrow? Without me?” Harry asked blankly.

Remus and Sirius shifted uncomfortably and exchanged a glance. 

“Considering your acrimonious history with Draco, we thought it would be most comfortable for everyone,” Remus said, frowning.

“Did he say something?” Harry asked, sinking in on himself and looking at a knot in the floorboard. 

“No…” Remus said, “Although he doesn't talk to us much.”

Harry furrowed his brow but didn't say anything.

“The Tonkses would love to see you, and if you want to visit them, we can arrange that after you're back,” Sirius said easily. 

—

After Christmas, the subject of Percy was a hot topic. Only in hushed whispers, though, because the Weasley matriarch made it abundantly clear she would not hear a word about it. In the few days that Harry stayed, Molly went out twice to visit with Percy alone. Arthur had gone into work once and he saw no change - his son was still refusing to even look at him. When he told this to his wife, she gave a vague ‘hm' and changed the subject. No one was entirely sure how to feel about it, the opinions ranged from sympathy for Percy to Molly being crazy to give him another chance. 

Luna visited on Boxing Day. She was wearing a sweater featuring a rather creepy cat with glowing red eyes that hissed and growled at anyone who was near to her, and Luna happily explained it was the Jólakötturinn, some sort of Scandinavian beast that eats children who don't wear their new clothes at Christmas time.

“It's good to see you're all wearing your jumpers,” she added, “We wouldn't want to attract one.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, as Hermione pursed her lips irritably but thankfully didn't comment, “Did you have a good Christmas, then?”

“Oh, yes, I met Neville’s parents. We had a lovely visit. His mother let me braid her hair,” Luna explained, and it was such a mundane description that it took Harry a full minute to remember who and where Neville’s parents were. He realized that Luna had spent part of her Christmas on the ward at St Mungo's with two haunted people who couldn't even speak. Harry felt a bit guilty. He hadn't even considered offering to do this.

“That's really good, Luna,” Hermione said softly, “I'm sure Neville and his grandmother appreciated it.”

“Neville said that they did. Although I think a few wrackspurts got in, his poor grandmother kept having to turn away and dab at her face with a handkerchief,” she replied pleasantly. Harry and Hermione shared a glance, it was hard to imagine the severe woman overcome with emotion. 

“I quite enjoyed the visit. We'll be seeing them again a few times before the end of the holiday,” Luna continued, still speaking as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. 

The Weasleys, Harry and Luna had a few rounds of Quidditch. As she had over the summer, Luna made a chaotic and, ultimately, fantastic Chaser to the bafflement and delight of Bill and the twins. 

—

As much as he loved the Weasleys, it was a relief to go back home. The pine trees were still up in the New Black house, but most of the decorations were gone. Instead enchanted snow covered the branches and window sills and mantles. It was cold to the touch, but never melted. Which gave the house the feel that the forest had been brought in. Remus was considerably more comfortable with this.

The day after he came back, they went to visit the Tonkses. It was good to see Andromeda and Ted. Tonks was at work, but would join them for dinner afterwards. 

Narcissa was looking considerably more casual than when Harry had last seen her. Her hair wasn't as severely tied back, instead pulled together in a loose braid and draped over her shoulder. Her eyes were sad, but she smiled at Harry when he greeted her.

Malfoy was in the back garden, and Harry slipped out in a way that he hoped was casual. This time he didn't have the Snitch, instead sitting on a little stone bench with a sketchbook on his lap, watching the small birds that were flittering around a bird feeder in a barren birch tree. Harry remembered a few of the notes Malfoy had sent him over the years, like the animated drawing of himself getting struck by lightning. 

His footsteps seemed to startle the birds, and they all fluttered away to their hiding places. Malfoy groaned, closing the book and turning to see who it was. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Harry, then he quickly looked away and stood up, brushing some dust off his trousers.

“Is that today, is it?” the boy muttered to himself.

“Sorry - er - I didn't mean to - I- I have something for you, a gift, sort of,” Harry said, tripping over himself, feeling embarrassed and second guessing himself.

“‘Sort of’? Is it a gift or not?” Malfoy asked, crossing his arms and lifting his chin even though a lovely pink was blooming on his cheeks.

“It's not- it's not anything fancy-” he mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the tattered old book in the refined, wealthy hands, “I just thought - hoped - you might like it? I don't know…”

For the briefest moment, Malfoy softened. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and Harry felt his mouth go dry. Malfoy did his best to resume his usual, prickly attitude, and held an expectant hand out, but it was trembling.

“Well then, hand it over,” he instructed Harry with the air of someone used to issuing commands.

Harry nodded, chewing his lip. He reached into his bag and put one hand on the book, then had a vision of Malfoy being too insulted to even open it. So Harry turned to hide it from Malfoy as best he could, flipping through, trying to find a good page and then feeling utterly self-conscious about what Malfoy would think of whichever one he chose. 

He settled on Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Heavily annotated as every other recipe was. He bit his lip and held the book out to Malfoy who gasped.

“H-how did you get this?”

“Er, okay, so, just… hear me out?” Harry said, running a hand for his hair, not remotely prepared to answer this, “R- er I needed a potions book and Slughorn - he's the potions professor now - erm he had this pile of old books and I grabbed this one and it had all this writing in it… obviously… ehm… and I, er, well, I showed it to Remus and - he, erm, told me it was Snape’s? And, er, I, you… you seemed to like him? As a professor? I thought you'd- I mean- er- sorry this was stupid.”

“You… got a copy of Severus Snape's personal notes by accident?” Malfoy asked, staring at him.

“Er- yeh?”

“Salazar, you really are the luckiest prat who's ever lived,” Malfoy muttered, running his hands over the page reverently. He sucked in a breath, holding the book to his chest and looked at Harry. “You didn't have to give me this.”

“It- it is a copy. I still have the original,” Harry admitted and Malfoy smirked, he looked possibly impressed. “I thought, ehm, I mean, you're good at potions? You'd probably appreciate it?”

Malfoy looked down at the book and bit his lip. His cheeks were flushed and some of his hair fell over his forehead and Harry had the urge to brush it away.

“Thank you,” Malfoy said in a small, soft voice and Harry felt a goofy grin break out over his own face.

“What kind of birds are out? It's pretty cold for them, isn't it?” Harry asked, gesturing at the feeder.

“Oh, ehm,” Mafloy said, looking over with a frown and shrugging, “Finches and thrushes. It doesn't get cold enough in England for them to migrate…”

“I never learned how to identify birds,” Harry said sheepishly, “Do you get, erm, a lot of different kinds here?” 

The Tonkses lived in a cottage that was on the outskirts of a muggle village. It was surrounded by sprawling pastures and farms. Harry had no idea if this lent itself to birds or not. He also wasn't sure how to have a polite conversation with Malfoy, they hadn't managed it very well over the summer. The boxing lessons hadn't left room for casually chatting. 

“A few. There were more over the summer. Wrens, doves, owls,” Malfoy said, tugging at the cuff of his jacket and not looking at Harry, “There was a falcon a month ago. It was quite majestic - I suppose I should be glad I haven't seen it again, it won't be hunting the others.”

“A falcon?” Harry asked, surprised that it had been noteworthy enough for Malfoy to bring it up. And to be called ‘majestic’, that was the first time Malfoy had ever complimented him. He bit his lip to hold back a grin.

“I, erm, I actually,” Malfoy said, looking flustered and rifling through the sketchbook, “It was from memory, but…” he held the book out to Harry, still not looking at him.

Harry stood and stared at the book for long enough that Malfoy flinched and began to pull it back.

“Sorry! No, I want to - I just - I didn't think you'd want to show me,” Harry rambled, shaking out of his reverie and grabbing the book probably too quickly, but he didn't want to lose the chance. His heart was pounding in his ears as he looked at the page. It had a few rough sketches of the bird. The pattern on its chest, circles around his eyes like his glasses, the sharp beak. 

“Wow,” he murmured. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he really couldn't, because Malfoy didn't realize it was him. He wanted to ask for the sketches, but that probably wasn't appropriate.

“It's nothing much,” Malfoy mumbled, a small smile on his face.

“Could I, erm, see any others?” Harry asked, not sure the right way to ask.

“I suppose…” he drawled, taking the book back and flipping to another page.

—

It had been a surprise to his godfathers that Harry was bothered by not being invited to the Tonkses. Andromeda and Ted had visited before Harry went to the Burrow and Harry never really asked after the Malfoys. Harry had been a reasonably good influence on Draco last summer, but they hadn’t wanted to try and push him into anything he wasn’t comfortable about. There was enough going on.

If Harry did want to see him, though, they certainly wouldn't say ‘no’. So, the day after Harry returned from the Burrow, they all headed over to the Tonkses. Less than five minutes after arriving, the two teens were outside and seemed to be civil. 

Two hours later, Sirius went out to let them know it was dinner time. They were sitting on the bench, looking over Snape’s potion book. Sirius was still annoyed it had somehow ended up in his godson's hands. Draco was explaining why certain adjustments had been made, the theory behind it, while Harry was furiously taking notes in a blank page of Draco’s sketchbook. Sirius raised an eyebrow, aware his godson had never had a particular interest in potions, even without Snape’s sneers.

“Hey lads, dinner's about ready,” Sirius called, and watched with amusement as the two boys leapt apart, faces flushed, as if they'd been caught doing something more than studying. 

“Go get washed up,” Sirius added, as the teens began putting things away and conspicuously didn't look at each other as they made their way into the house.

—

A few days after visiting the Tonkses, they arranged for Harry and Draco to go flying, to do Seeker v Seeker like they had that summer. 

Similar to how Sirius and Remus had arranged to bring the kids to various places to fly and just get out of the house during the summer they were in Grimmauld place, the adults had been taking Draco out as often as they felt safe to do so. Which wasn't very often.

“This hardly seems fair,” Draco drawled, “I'm completely out of practice while you've been training for matches.”

“Oh,” Harry said awkwardly, glancing over at Remus and Sirius, who were ‘giving them space’ which meant tussling as canines at the edge of the clearing they'd apparated to. “Erm. Actually. I… I'm not on the team this year.”

“What?” Draco demanded, “Why the hell not? What idiot wouldn't put you on the team?!”

“Well, erm, me,” Harry admitted, “It was my idea. I was made captain, and, well,” he shrugged. 

Draco stared at him in disbelief, then he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, “Why?”

“I know this might be terrible since you're stuck here and didn't have the option but, well, I didn't want to,” he said, scuffing his trainer on the frosty grass and shifting uncomfortably, “I never really liked the fame, and I like just being a spectator and I have enough of people ogling me… so…” he shrugged.

“You don't like the fame?” Draco sneered.

“No, I don't,” Harry said, scowling.

They both glared at each other, Harry tilting his chin defiantly and remembering the grief Draco had caused him in fourth year by running off to Rita Skeeter with every little detail of his life.

“Oh,” Draco said finally, stepping back and glaring off into the forest, “I see,” the corner of his lip twitched slightly, “That is unfortunate, considering.”

Harry gave a small snort of laughter and rolled his eyes, “I don't think anyone would want what I've had to put up with.”

There was a tense silence following this, and Draco’s face softened. He continued staring out and avoided looking at Harry.

“No,” Draco said quietly, “I suppose that's true.” He straightened himself and turned to Harry, “In that case, it would seem the advantage is in my favor, since I've spent the last few months playing with my cousins.”

“Yeah, I suppose they're alright,” Harry said with a chuckle. Sirius didn't join in that often, and Tonks was enthusiastic.

“Please, Blacks are excellent Quidditch players. My Aunt Dromeda, mother, and cousin Regulus monopolized the Slytherin Seeker position for over a decade,” Draco replied with a smug smile. The mention of Regulus caused Harry to falter for a moment, but Slughorn had showed Harry the photo of Regulus as Seeker - Draco probably just knew about it through his family.

“If Quidditch greatness is in your blood - why did your dad have to buy your way onto the team?” Harry asked.

“He did not!” Draco squawked, “He bought me a broom to try out with and when I made the team - he bought the rest!”

“Ehhhh,” Harry shrugged, “I mean you never won a match against me, did Slytherin have such little talent that you were the best they could do?”

“I held my own against you last summer and you know it,” Draco growled. It was true, but Harry was enjoying riling him up so simply shrugged again. Draco narrowed his eyes, “Get on your broom, Potter.”

Harry laughed as he kicked off the ground. He had played Quidditch with the Weasleys a few times while he was visiting for Christmas, and had assisted Gryffindor's practices a few times. It wasn't like he was completely out of practice. Yet, he found himself being completely outstripped by Draco. The first two times, the blond grabbed the Snitch.

Then, it wasn't like Draco had anything else to do. Maybe he'd just been practicing that much. Or maybe Harry’s jeers had managed to get under his skin. Either way, Harry was the next to grab the fluttering ball.

It was exhilarating, and Harry became more determined to win. The chase felt cut throat, they were both skirting the edge of the game's rules. They played until they were exhausted, barely able to stay upright on their brooms, and still had to be chased back by Sirius’s patronus nipping at their heels and insisting they call it a day. 

It was more fun flying than Harry'd had since… last summer, when he played with Draco. 

He enjoyed playing with the Weasleys. He had fully intended to stay on the team if he'd beaten Ginny fair and square. He had never liked playing against Slytherin and their underhanded nonsense. 

But, here, when all of the house rivalry and other bollocks was stripped away, Harry genuinely liked spending time with Draco. Who apparently fancied Harry.

Which didn't seem like it mattered, seeing as Draco was stuck in hiding and Harry wasn't even really going to be able to speak to him for the next few months.

—

There were only a few days left in the Hogwarts holiday, and Remus and Sirius had to face that they had put off telling Harry about their adopting Tonks’s baby for longer than they should have. There just never seemed to be a natural time to bring it up. It was the first proper Christmas they’d had with Harry in fifteen years. They just wanted it to be simple and happy.

Which it had been, mostly, and now Harry would be going back to school soon and the next time he'd be coming home, there would be a burbling infant there. They needed to tell him.

“Haz,” Sirius began, fidgeting, over breakfast, “There's something we need to talk with you about.”

“Okay,” Harry said warily, perhaps because most serious conversations lately involved the war.

“You know that Tonks is pregnant,” Sirius continued, inwardly wincing. 

“Yeah…” Harry replied, looking perplexed.

“Tonks- they aren't in a place to raise a child, so,” Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and glanced at him. Remus looked more nervous than he was. That was not helpful. “We've decided to adopt the baby.”

There was a silence, Harry frowned, and looked down at his plate. He pushed his eggs around with his fork.

“Tonks is abandoning their baby?” The words were quiet and heavy with emotion. 

“No, of course not,” Remus said in his most reassuring tone and Sirius let out a small sigh of relief. For a minute he'd thought he was alone in this.

“Then why are you adopting? Why can't they just stay living here so you can help?” Harry asked bitterly, looking up and glaring at them. “Kids… kids should stay with their parents. You're really okay with your friend just giving up their own kid?”

Sirius looked down at his own, nearly untouched, plate, feeling ill. This was not remotely how he had expected this conversation to go.

“It's more complicated than that,” Remus said in the same gentle tone, “No one is being abandoned. The baby is going to people Tonks trusts to be able to raise a child with love and support. Andromeda and Ted are going to be very involved grandparents and Tonks will be there as much as they can as well.”

“Then why aren't they just raising the kid?” Harry repeated, crossing his arms.

“Raising a kid isn't easy, Haz, Tonks isn't in a place to do it,” Sirius said carefully. He wasn't sure how much of the situation was fair to share with Harry and didn't want to throw his cousin under the bus. Technically, Tonks could be a single parent but Tonks would be miserable doing so, which wasn't fair to anyone.

“Then why did they decide to have the baby in the first place?!” Harry demanded.

“The pregnancy was not planned,” Remus pointed out.

Harry glowered and looked away, “There's ways to make sure it doesn't happen.”

“If we've let you believe birth control is infallible, then we have done you a great disservice,” Remus said.

“I- I guess… but… I mean… why isn't the father involved?” Harry muttered.

“Well,” Sirius said, “Tonks doesn't really know how to find him.”

“Tonks knew him well enough to have sex but doesn't know how to find him?” Harry asked. He at least didn't look angry anymore, just confused.

“Knowing someone is not always a prerequisite to sex,” Remus said diplomatically, “Are you familiar with what a one night stand is?”

“Er-” Harry blushed and shrugged, “I've heard of them…”

“It's not really something that happens at Hogwarts because the school is small and everyone knows each other,” Sirius pointed out wryly.

“A one night stand is, essentially, having sex with someone you don't know well - who may be a complete stranger - with no intention of it becoming anything more,” Remus explained.

“People like that?” Harry asked, a strange look on his face.

“It's not for everyone. Some people find it enjoyable. There's nothing wrong with it. But, unfortunately, it does occasionally lead to this situation,” Remus said. 

“So there's just some bloke out there who's about to become a father and might never know it,” Harry said glumly.

“There is a lot more to being a father than genetics,” Sirius said firmly, doing his best to keep his tone calm even though it pressed on the still-sore wound of his own miserable childhood.

“It just… I don’t know,” Harry muttered, “I think kids should be with their parents…”

“We will be the baby’s parents,” Sirius pointed out emphatically, “In every way that matters.”

Remus placed a hand on Sirius’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, then looked at Harry, “Do you have any concerns?”

“Tonks is older than my parents were,” Harry said, “And- there’s no prophecy. So they’re not targeted. I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t want their own kid. Is it just because the dad’s not in the picture? Has Tonks tried to find him?”

The hold on Sirius’s shoulder tightened slightly, neither of them had expected to face this reaction and weren’t prepared for it. Sirius was glad they didn’t do this with Tonks there, at least, Tonks was having a tough enough time without a teenager lecturing them on this. 

“Raising a child as a single parent is a heavy burden,” Remus said.

Sirius took a deep breath, settling himself, “Your parents were… rich, Haz. They didn’t have to work. Neither did I. We could devote ourselves fully to the Order. And when Lily found out she was pregnant - she and James had the freedom to completely change their schedule around it. It wouldn’t mess up their goals. James’s biggest goal in life, honestly, was to become a father.”

“It was?” Harry asked. Sirius and Remus both nodded.

“It’s why they got married so early. They really wanted a chance to have you, and they set up their lives to be able to raise you,” Sirius said.

Harry nodded slowly.

“Tonks isn’t like your parents. Tonks has a job - a career. Being an auror makes it really difficult to raise a child, especially during a war. Yes, Tonks could raise a kid. Tonks would make a damn good parent,” Sirius said, “But they’d be miserable, it would cause a lot of problems for them, it would be a struggle and there’s no reason for it. That wouldn’t be fair to the kid.”

“I… I guess not,” Harry said, biting his lip, “I mean… it’s not that I don’t think you’d do a good job…”

Sirius gave a small huff of a laugh.

“And, Tonks will still be around, it’s not like - I guess I shouldn't have called it abandoning,” Harry said.

“That’s not a fair description, but it’s understandable that you would have strong emotions,” Remus said and Harry nodded.

“I think I’d like to go out and fly,” Harry said, standing up from the table.

“Alright,” Sirius said, standing up as well and holding his arms out. Harry hesitated for a moment before hugging him.

“I know we haven’t gotten into how this’ll impact you, Haz, but we need you to know that we will always be there for you, okay, kid?” Sirius said, hugging his godson tightly before letting him go. The teenager gave a tense smile before leaving the kitchen.

Sirius slumped back down in his chair and buried his face in his hands, “That went… terribly.”

“Perhaps we should have expected an orphan to have strong feelings about this,” Remus murmured, wrapping an arm around Sirius’s shoulders. Sirius groaned and leaned into his boyfriend.

–

Flying as the falcon helped him to clear his head, it always did. It was a relief and a freedom that Harry was increasingly grateful for. The discussion had brought up so many emotions, and none of them felt fair, but they were still there and he didn’t know what to do with them. Spreading his wings and taking to the sky was the best solution he knew.

He was supposed to stay on the grounds, which were sprawling, but the urge to fly further afield was too great. There was too much running through his mind to keep track of human boundaries when he had the freedom to ride the wind. 

As had happened after the Quidditch Match, he found himself drawn to the Tonkses. It was a much shorter journey. It seemed that Alphard had helped Andromeda to set her family up relatively close to him, in fact. Which was good, because Harry probably shouldn’t be straying too far from home. Not with the way things were.

Draco was outside again, sketching the garden birds. Harry instinctively let out a cry that sounded like “Ee-chup” and Draco looked up, startled. The blond smiled, a large grin crossing over his face and the falcon landed on a branch overhead.