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Chapter Text

Dyslexic Writer Edit: This is not truly an edit, so much as an extended edition. As I reread this, I’m adding to it before uploading. If you see mistakes, let it go, please.

Prologue

Betrayal is not the heart blow nor the dramatic upheaval of all that you know, sometimes, it's a disappointment, a failing of hope, a confirmation of fears.

Harry had been so angry at Dumbledore, at his secrets, at his refusal to confide in him as Harry devoted his loyalty to the professor. 

But there was no anger left in him now. No surprise. If there was shock, then it was in the disbelief of his own stupidity for trusting a person like Albus Dumbledore.

Of course, there had been a bigger plan: a bigger picture in which Harry was an accessory and not the subject. He had never questioned his own assumption that Dumbledore wanted him alive. Now he saw that his life span had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had passed the job of destroying them to him, and obediently he had continued to chip away at the bonds tying not only Voldemort, but himself, to life. How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but to give the dangerous task to the boy who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not be a calamity, but another blow against Voldemort.

And Dumbledore had known that Harry would not duck out, that he would keep going to the bitter end. 

In trusting him, he had given away all Dumbledore needed to know about him. Learning him not as a friend but as an enemy, as Voldemort knew him. They both knew that Harry would not let anyone else die for him when he had the power to stop it.

Images of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into his mind's eye, and for a moment, Harry could hardly breathe. 

Yet death was impatient…

Harry's dry lips brushed over the professor's last gift to him.

The shades that appeared around beckoned him forward down this path that would end with them together.

James was exactly the same height as Harry. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died in, his hair was untidy and ruffled, and his glasses were a little lopsided, like Mr. Weasley's.

Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than Harry had seen him in life. He loped along beside him with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets, a wide grin on his face.

Lily's smile was the widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew closer to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would devour his presence.

"You've been so brave," she said gently, with compassion and pride.

Harry could not speak. His gaze never left hers. He thought that he might be content here, in this time that raced yet extended beyond reason that he would like to look at her forever.

The mother who had loved him and died for him.

Died for him, so he could die for others.

"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are... so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" The childish question had fallen from Harry’s heart before he could stem the bleeding of his fear. 

Did he truly have to do this?

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

Harry clung to those words even as his was startled into letting go of the hollow, his family vanishing as if they had never been.

Not that it mattered much, he would, after all, be joining them soon.

"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord crooned before spitting through his teeth like sparks spat from a fire. "The Boy Who Lived."

On the precipice of death, accepting of a fate Voldemort himself feared above all others, Harry did not feel brave, he felt foolish.

He felt so very small as he closed his eyes against the light.

Dying was neither easier nor quick an eternity passed in agony as he was forced to relinquish who he was, every dream, every hope, rendered from in an instant, in a lightning bolt sensation of being forced apart and then together.

Harry could not help but fight, and in railing against his density, death spat him back out, taking with her something unnameable but pressure.

Chapter 1 - Easier Than Falling Asleep

When Harry woke, he did so screaming. 

Clutching his forehead as white-hot pain attempted to cleave his skull in two, he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the tangle of blankets doing nothing to protect him.

Death shouldn't hurt this much. That or Sirius was git for lying to him.

When the pain subsided he untangled himself from his covers and staggered to his feet.

Something was wrong. No, scratch that, a lot of things were wrong. He was in Gryffindor Tower, and apparently, he had just woken up. He found his glasses on the nightstand. The rest of the beds were empty. Was he shorter? Harry went to the bathroom and the sight of himself in the mirror frightened him and it wasn't because his scar was oozing blood, it was because the face in the mirror was years younger than it should have been.

And he was short.

Harry frowned and grabbed a towel wetting it in the sink to wash the blood away. What kind of dream was this? Washing the wound hurt but the cold water also soothed the aching in his forehead.

"Harry?" a voice called from the hall.

"In here!" Harry shouted back. He kept his gaze on the mirror, he watched the scar close up and magically heal over into the faintest of white lines. The lightning bolt was still visible but only if you were looking hard for it. This dream just kept getting curiouser and curiouser.

"Mr. Potter?" It was Professor McGonagall.

Harry left the bloody towel in the sink and went out to her.

"You need to get dressed, Mr. Potter," she said when she saw him.

Harry blinked at her and asked, "Why?"

She gave him an unamused look, " Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber of the Hall after breakfast.”

Harry frowned, "Excuse me?"

" The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

What was this? Was he fourteen again? This dream was rapidly becoming too realistic to be just a dream. Was this the afterlife? Some cosmic game so he would have to live through Cedric dying again? If that was the case reliving Sirius's death would have been worse. Or maybe it would get worse?

Or was this some sort of soul time travel? Was such a thing even possible?

"Come, Mr. Potter or you'll be late, you have already missed breakfast as it is."

Harry threw on his robes and joined his Head of House in the common room, mutely following behind her. As they walked, Harry admired the intact, non-ruble quality of the walls.

They came into a room before the Great Hall and it was like walking into his own memory in a pensive.

Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand.

She waved at Harry, who waved back. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him just as they had before.

As if Fred hadn't died.

As if there had never been a war.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"You all right?" asked Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail."

He was at a loss as to what to say. Cedric was alive. Was Fred too or Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have been smiling.

"It's great being back here," Bill was saying. "Haven't seen this place for five years.

Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

Harry nodded.

"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" Bill asked.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks."

 Amos Diggory waded in toward their group as Cedric held him back.

Harry froze, fear chilling him, both because he had caused this man so much pain.

"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry up and down. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"

Harry didn't answer, his tongue leaden by guilt.

And not just of Cedric, but because of everyone who had died that Harry had been unable to save. 

"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament - you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear. "Still, you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.

Harry was not upset to relive the morning of walking over the sunny grounds with Bill and Mrs. Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. But it only made his anxiety worse as to what was to come. Right now, he felt as if he was walking through a dream. Smiling, chatting, treating it like he was from the same timeline as this memory, that there was nothing bad about to happen. Like he hadn't just died and woken up nearly four years in the past on the day that the Dark Lord came back to power. Like Albus Dumbledore hadn't set him up to die.

"Mum - Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as they joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh . . . okay," said Ron. 

Harry let the sounds of the familiar washing over him, picking at the food in front of him to hide the fact that he couldn't look around the room without remembering what had been or what would be.

Cloth covered bodies on the floor, injured moaning on cots. 

When the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys and Hermione all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.

"Feeling all right. Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"I think we are all going to die," Harry said tonelessly. After all, this dream was fast approaching its nightmare like quality. He hoped he would wake up soon.

Bagman laughed, thinking Harry was joking.

They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

Harry didn't nod he just willed himself awake. It didn't work.

"Off you go, then-" Bagman said brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck. Harry," Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each - Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place - Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

"So ... on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three - two - one -"

And it all happened as it had before. Harry didn't talk as much but in the end, it was just him and Cedric standing before the cup.

"You should take it," Cedric said.

Harry shrugged, "It's a trap."

Cedric frowned, "What do you mean, it's a trap?"

"Whoever takes that cup is going to die."

Cedric glared at him, "That isn't funny, Potter."

"The cup is a trap and Professor Moody is a fraud," Harry said. He sighed and reached out to the cup, "But I'm dead already, so what does it matter?"

"Harry-" Cedric started but he was too late to either stop Harry or to join him.

As Harry felt the pull on his navel he really hoped he was still dreaming.

oOo

Cedric shot red sparks up into the sky and started yelling for help.

It took ten minutes for help to arrive but they were no more help than Cedric had been. False Moody received the dementor's kiss and the real Moody was saved. But no one had the faintest idea as to where Harry Potter had gone.

oOo

Harry landed with a thud on the ground. He hated portkeys, what had possessed him to grab the damned cup? He needed to stop treating this like a dream because– clearly –pain was a real factor. And, apparently, events could be altered.

For instance, there was no spare.

Harry threw a reducto into the gloom, incinerating a tombstone.

Someone yelped and Riddle's voice yelled, "Subdue him, you fool!"

Harry had already thrown up a shield charm which neatly reflected Wormtail's spell. Harry started throwing hexes and charms, one after another without a word and without relent.

Screw dying, he wanted to live. He was never going to walk to his death again, Greater Good or no.

Wormtail was a poor duelist.

"Do not run!" Voldemort instructed.

But Wormtail was losing. Three years, three painful, miserable years learning to fight to survive, barely scraping by in school thanks to the war, thanks to running away from Death Eaters and Aurors. Hell, his education had been put aside so he could rob banks. Harry was fresh from the battlefield, whereas Wormtail was… Wormtail was lowlier than the worms that ate the dirt.

With a pop, Wormtail apparated away. Leaving someone behind in the grass.

Harry levitated a tombstone and repeatedly smashed it onto Nagini -who had come at him, fangs exposed.

"You know," Harry said, wand pointed at the corpse of the last Horcrux, "I don't hate snakes. I just hate Voldemort's snakes, you are all creepy and twisted."

Nagini didn't respond, as she was well and truly dead.

Harry supposed he should go back to the cup, back to Hogwarts. He hesitated, no part of him wanted to go back to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, to the students, or to the media. But he would have to because this wasn't a dream. Somehow dying had brought him back in time. 1995 was not a good year for him.

Harry went to Riddle Senior's tomb and accioed all the bones. Morbid? Absolutely. But Voldemort had needed his father's bones to come back to his body. Pointing his wand at the bones, they shattered into dust and disappeared in a gust of wind.

Harry walked out of the cemetery and followed a vaguely familiar path that led further away from the town and Riddle Manor. After an hour of walking, Harry found the Gaunt Shack, or the ruin of it, that Dumbledore had shown him in the pensive.

He found the ring and transfigured a piece of wood into a porcelain ball just large enough to hold the ring. He scooped up the ring in the makeshift container, transfiguring it shut and pocketing the nullified poison–as long as he didn't touch it with his skin. He put the ring in his robe pocket, checking he had no holes in that pocket first.

Harry had done a lot of thinking on his walk and did a lot more thinking on his way back to the graveyard.

Number One: If you are given a second chance to live, don't waste it.

Number Two: Snape is more trustworthy than Dumbledore and either McGonagall or Flitwick is more trustworthy than Snape. So he had best pick someone to who he was going to tell the whole story, carefully, and make sure that Dumbledore doesn't try to get control over Harry again.

Number Three: Horcruxes. Taking into account his bleeding head pain this morning, he was going to wager that it had been the death of his Horcrux. The diary was finished, the ring was his, and Nagini was dead which only left the Cup, still in Gringotts, the Diadem, back at Hogwarts, the Locket, still at Grimmauld Place, and of course, Voldemort in his infant alien form.

Number Four: Hedwig, Sirius, Fred, Cedric, Lupin, Nymphadora, and countless others were still alive and Harry wanted them to stay that way.

"So who to trust?" Harry asked himself as he stood before the cup lying inertly on the ground. It was dark out but his eyes had long since adjusted to the moonlit night. "Who do I trust?"

Not Dumbledore .

It wasn't a voice in his head, it was his gut reaction to having trusted and loved a man who had set him up to die.

"So who do I trust who isn't with Albus Dumbledore?" Harry asked out loud, because talking to himself was the least of his sanity concerns at the moment. Not Snape, not McGonagall, not even Sirius.

Who then?

But the thought had occurred to him already. Filius Flitwick. He wasn't a part of the order but he was a good man, a Dueling Champion, and Head of Ravenclaw House. Harry could certainly use a little wisdom at this point in his life.

Of course, this all could still be a dream. Merlin, let it all be a dream.

oOo

"Harry!" Hermione was the first to get to him. She was sobbing. Mrs. Weasley was close behind.

Harry told them over and over again that he was alright.

"What happened?" "What happened?" It was all anyone could ask him once they realized he was, in fact, okay.

"Graveyard, Voldemort, Pettigrew, they both got away," Harry summarized.

"You are an idiot!" Cedric yelled. "You knew it was a trap, why on earth did you grab it!?"

Harry looked at Cedric dead on, "Because if one of us had to die I'd rather it be me."

Quiet descended on them like a suffocating hand after that statement.

McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley took charge then and Harry made it back to the castle without an interception. He was unsurprised when he was directed immediately to the hospital wing to be checked over by Madame Pomfrey.

He figured surviving the killing curse again only this morning qualified him as one who needed medical attention even though he felt fine.

oOo

Poppy shooed away everyone, even the Headmaster.

"Can I stay here until the end of the term?" Harry asked.

Poppy, who was more than accustomed to Harry as her tenant, was taken aback by this request. 

Harry Potter had never asked to stay longer in her care. 

She nodded mutely.

There was less than a week anyhow and she would be relieved to keep an eye on him.

His next question was more unsettling than the first. "Could you look at my scar, please? It was bleeding this morning?"

She did and what she found scared her. "Possession," she breathed.

"What was that, Madame Pomfrey?" he asked her.

"This–this residue was of another magical lifeforce, like a leach trying to eat its way into, not just your mind, but your soul."

"Is it gone?"

"You don't sound surprised."

"Please, just tell me?" he pleaded with heartbreakingly large eyes.

"Yes, it's gone and whatever damage it caused, it should begin to heal naturally now. How did you get it off?" she asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry tried.

She did her best not to bite back with something scathing as her protective instincts wanted her to, rather, she chided, "Mr. Potter."

"The Killing Curse," Harry answered shortly.

"You aimed a Killing Curse at your scar!?" she asked, deeply concerned.

"No,” Harry corrected. “Wormtail, I mean, Peter Pettigrew did it, I woke up in the graveyard."

She gaped at him, how was one supposed to respond to that?

“It hurts,” he informed her. “Dying hurts, and the killing curse hurts, it hurt when I was little and hurt the second time too.”

Poppy frowned and pulled a vial out of her apron, "Dreamless Sleep, drink it and try not to worry about anything."

She was scheduling herself for a minutature breakdown after she tore into Albus for letting him compete in this bloody tournament.

"I don't want to talk to Dumbledore," Harry blurted out.

"I will see what I can do, but rest, Mr. Potter."

He did as he was told, for once, seemingly glad for the respite.

oOo

Dumbledore maneuvered his way into seeing Harry, Harry glared at Pomfrey who gave him an apologetic look before returning to her office.

Harry gave the old wizard with his sparkling eyes one glance before glueing his eyes to his own–strangely–scarless hands.

This man, this pillar in his life that had set him up to fall. Falling. It was Harry's last memory of this man alive, Albus falling off the tower because he made, made, Snape kill him.

"Harry, please look at me," Albus said gently.

"Leave me alone," Harry muttered back.

"How did you know the cup was a trap?"

"Because it was the last thing we did for tasks and there had to be some goal, some reason, for putting my name in the goblet."

"Logical," Albus said.

Logic? When had logic ever been a factor in Harry's life?

"I went to the graveyard," the Headmaster ventured. "It looked as if there had been a battle there. I found a rather dead snake."

"Wormtail got away with Voldemort," Harry said without raising his head.

"He's back?"

Harry shook his head, "Only in the way that he's never really been gone."

Albus sighed, "That's good."

Harry frowned.

"My boy, what's wrong?"

What's wrong is, is that you want me dead , Harry thought. But maybe that wasn't fair. Albus wanted Voldemort dead, Harry was just a means to an end.

"Harry–"

"Can you leave, please?" he asked. "I'm tired."

"Of course, if you told me everything important, I can go."

Harry looked up then, making direct eye contact, his mental wards as solid as they had ever been. Maybe without a slice of another person's soul attached to his mind, he could be good at this mind magic. "You know everything important, Sir."

It was the same tone Harry used with Snape and Albus looked floored.

"Harry, you know I would never cause you harm, don't you?"

Harry's gaze grew angry and distant, as he agreed, "Never directly." Only by your inaction.

"I will let you get rest if you think of anything, tell me."

Harry laid back done with the conversation and turned his back on the old man.

oOo

Harry spent his last day at Hogwarts destroying Horcruxes. He went down to the Chamber of Secrets first, with the Ring and stabbed it right through the porcelain container. The ring screamed and the black smoke died. He picked up the stone and pitched it into the Slytherin statue's maw where the snake had crawled out from.

Harry wrapped the fang in a scrap of leather and took his broom back up the passage that he had cleared. Harry went right to the Room of Requirement, found and destroyed the diadem.

Harry looked at the pieces of the crown and wrapped them up in a satchel.

How was he supposed to get into Gringotts again? Bellatrix Lestrange was still in prison so the first insane way they had done it wouldn't work.

He looked around the room for inspiration and it was the room itself that gave him an idea.

"Dobby?" Harry called.

Dobby appeared with his typical greeting.

"Dobby," Harry started, "Do you know how to break into Gringotts?"

The elf blinked. "What does Harry Potter need?"

"I need the Hufflepuff Cup from Bellatrix Lestrange's vault."

Dobby shuttered but snapped his fingers and the cup appeared in front of them, the sound of metal ringing as it hit the ground.

Harry gaped, "It can't be that easy."

"If Harry Potter, Sir, had asked Dobby to get him money from any vault but his own Dobby couldn't have done it. But this is a Hogwarts object and belongs to the school."

As Dobby spoke, Harry pulled the Basilisk fang and struck the cup. It screamed and the cup was left with a huge dent and black mark on it but it was soulless.

As any honest and respectable cup ought to be.

"Harry Potter, Sir, that was Dark Magic," the house elf informed him.

"Yep, and there is one more."

"Where, Sir?" Dobby asked ready for the challenge.

"Grimmauld Place, Slytherin's Locket," Harry said.

Dobby snapped his fingers once more, but the locket did not appear alone.

Another elf, this one snarling with a blind rage, came attached to the locket.

"Wait, Kreacher!" Harry called, "Kreacher wait, we are trying to destroy it as Master Regulus asked you to!"

Kreacher paused in trying to strangle Dobby, and slowly turned to Harry.

"What do you know about Master Regulus?"

"Sirius Black is my godfather and that locket needs to be opened by a Parselmouth and destroyed with something that can destroy the darkest of magic."

Kreacher let go of Dobby, who coughed and gave the other elf a dark look.

Harry motioned for the elf to lay the locket on the floor, which Kreacher did reluctantly.

" Open ," Harry hissed.

Harry, who was feeling a tad stab happy, stabbed it the moment the gears sprung open.

More screaming black smoke and it was over. The dairy, the snake, the ring, the diadem, the cup, the locket, and himself were all taken care of.

Harry picked up the locket that was mostly undamaged and told it to close. He handed it to Kreacher, "Thank you, Kreacher."

The dirty elf looked at him in awe, "You're welcome, Master Potter." Before popping away.

"Do you need anything else, Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked.

"No, Dobby, thank you."

"Dobby needs to go back to preparing the feast but you can call Dobby whenever you need him."

Harry nodded and Dobby popped out as well.

Harry found his way to Flitwick's office next, he hesitated only briefly before knocking on the doorframe.

"Come in," said the man's merry voice before he looked up and smiled. "Oh, Mr. Potter, come right in."

Harry approached his desk, shutting the door behind him. Harry was pleased to see that there were no portraits in Flitwick's office.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter? I hope this isn't about homework or tests. You have been excused from such things for the year. One might think you've learned quite enough this year about magic."

"Professor," Harry started, "I need to talk to someone who isn't a member of the Order of the Phoenix… Someone who I can maybe trust."

Flitwick sat back in his chair, "You mean Dumbledore's Order?"

"Yes."

Flitwick frowned, "Why wouldn't you go to Dumbledore himself?"

What to say to that?

Harry ended up just blurting out, “I don't want to be a martyr. I don't want there to be another war but if there is, I want to fight, not… Not just be a cog in a larger plan.”

Flitwick blinked, "Explain."

And Harry did. Starting with the prophecy, and Snape's part, Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius, Wormtail, the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort coming back, Umbridge, the Veil, the Horcruxes, Dumbledore's death, the school being overrun by Death Eaters, the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry's death, and Harry waking up the day of the final task and him re-hunting the Horcruxes.

Harry must have talked for hours and when he was done, Flitwick brewed a fresh pot of tea. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as Harry drank deeply from the glass of water that had been refilling itself through his confession.

"Albus is–I can't believe this," Flitwick said finally.

"What am I supposed to do?" Harry asked.

"What are you supposed to do?" Flitwick repeated outrage, "Nothing, nothing you shouldn't have been responsible for any of this. It is us, the adults who should have to do somethin-"

"I am seventeen," Harry interrupted.

Flitwick sighed, "Perhaps, but you are in the body of your fourteen-year-old self."

"A war is coming. I can't sit back and do nothing, I will not wait and let what happened the first time around happen again."

"I will not let that happen either. I will be keeping an eye on Mr. Malfoy, Narcissa was one of my favourite students along with your mother. I will not allow either of you to come to ruin. And Severus is too close to this."

"But what do I do?" Harry asked again.

"You destroyed all the Horcruxes?"

Harry brought out the remains of Ravenclaw's Diadem and the cup, "All of them."

"May I?" Flitwick asked reaching out for it.

"I am not sure if it is safe to touch but I know it doesn't have a Horcrux in it anymore. But you can keep it."

Flitwick nodded and pulled open a drawer and slipped the cup and the diadem into it by pulling on the cloth it was resting on. "I will think on what to tell Minerva, Pomona, and Poppy when the time is right but let me ask you this, Harry, what more can be done at this moment? You've destroyed all that anchors him to this world and you have destroyed the remains of Riddle's father."

"I don't know," Harry said, "But we have to do something, we have to find Wormtail and Voldemort."

Flitwick sighed, "And with a tracker on your wand and the prohibition of underaged magic, how do you plan to start? Live in the woods for the rest of your life? On the run? Do you even know where to start looking for him?"

Harry looked out the window, "I can't… it can't all be for nothing, I can't let them all die again."

"You prevented the Dark Lord from coming back into his full power. You destroyed the Horcruxes in one week, that is more than anyone else could have done. And you wouldn't have been able to do that if you hadn't already lived it. 

“So this is what we are going to do. You are going back to the Dursleys for one more summer, you are going to study, you are going to come back to school and work for your own future for whatever it is you want to do. And if Voldemort ever gets close to you again he'll be in for a fight." 

Flitwick took a breath, "I am going to reach out to my contacts in the ministry. You and I are going to exchange letters over the summer so I know that you are safe and mentally dealing with—with all that has happened. I am going to do everything I can to help you and stop him."

"But for now you want me to go home and be a good little boy," Harry said, too tired to put force behind the words.

"Do you want to tell everyone you time travelled? because that comes with its own set of problems."

"No," Harry said shortly. "But I can tell my friends, right?"

"Of course, for they will believe you. However, this is the sort of story that even if you tell it, few would want to believe it."

"You can't tell Dumbledore," Harry ordered but it came out as a sort of question.

Flitwick's nostrils flared, "No. I don't believe I will be telling Albus much of anything, his intentions were good, his actions were, and are, inexcusable."

Harry nodded and stood, "Thanks for listening to me, Professor Flitwick."

"It was my honour, Mr. Potter, feel free to contact me about anything, even if it seems insignificant or you need someone to talk to about personal matters. You can come to me with anything."

"Thank you," Harry said again before leaving, shutting the door softly behind him.

Hardly believing that an adult had listened to him without interpretation or censure.

oOo

Harry had no desire to leave Hogwarts, even with the nightmares dogging his steps, he wanted to stay. He trudged up the steps to Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up toward the voice.

"Luna?" he asked.

Had they even met yet? He couldn't remember. Merlin, but he was tired. He had slept all week, and yet, he was still weary.

"Yes, I’m Luna. You look older," she told him. 

She stood on the steps above him, her white hair glowing, her luggage held in front of her brightly coloured skirts.

"I feel ancient," Harry attempted to joke, but his voice was dull and his humour fell short.

"Feel younger soon," she said with a sweet smile before skipping past him, the steps not causing her any trouble at all.

Harry was smiling the faintest bit as he reached his dorm. 

Everyone was gone. He found his luggage packed at the foot of his bed, Ron or Hermione must have packed for him. He continued to move slowly as he made his way to Hogsmeade. What did it matter if the train left without him? He had been worse off than that before.

Harry found Ron and Hermione on the train. Having already told them the graveyard story over the last week, he didn’t have much to say. 

Harry felt bad about not telling them about the time travel, but he wasn’t ready to explain himself to his friends.

Telling Flitwick had been easy in some ways because he didn’t know the professor well enough to fear his judgement.

Flitwick had taken it all in stride, he did not think Hermione would have such a restrained response.

Harry drifted to sleep on the Hogwarts Express, he couldn't help thinking that falling asleep was far easier than walking to one's death, far easier than dying.

oOo

AN: There is no update schedule, it will take time to re-upload everything. you can certainly see that this was an earlier inspiration for The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals which is far more ambitious. 

Please share any thoughts, minks, or feedback, pretty please?

Chapter Text

WARNING:  Domestic abuse, eating disorders, and severe depression.

P.S. Fuck the timeline.

AN: Thank you to the reviewers (then and now).

Chapter 2: Summer Letters

The most remarkable part of Harry's summer was the absence of pain in his scar. Unremarkably, the nightmares remained, despite the lack of visions of Voldemort and the Department of Mysteries.

Images plagued him from the war. He woke most nights stifling screams, hiding in the back of his closet, having no memory of how he got there. 

Being stuck at the Dursleys did not help. Harry cooked, cleaned, and studied.

Hedwig, his beautiful, wonderful, best friend ever, was his constant company except when Harry sent her to the bookstore. Harry's library was sure to make even Hermione envious now. Harry wrote to Professor McGonagall expressing his desire to drop Divination. He had seen more of the future than he had ever desired. She sent an adamant response back with Hedwig, wishing him well and saying that he would have to pick another subject. Depending on the subject, he might have to take a class with younger classmates. She had attached a list of classes.

Harry had no idea what he should pick and it was that choice which prompted Harry to send his first letter to Professor Flitwick.

oOo

Dear Professor Flitwick,

Thank you for listening to me at the end of term. I hope all is well with you. I owled Professor McGonagall about switching out of Divinations. She said that I needed to pick another topic. I am staying with Care of Magical Creatures but I don't know what else would be worth it. Any suggestions as to what would be useful? I don't have much of a preference so whatever you think is best, I’ll  take. Can you suggest a good reading selection to catch up in that class too please?

Warmest Regards,

Harry Potter

oOo

A few days later Hedwig returned with another, larger owl, carrying a small stack of books between them.

oOo

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am delighted to hear from you. Arithmancy is probably your best bet for a practical class. Combined with Charms you can begin to learn about wards seeing as you have such a strong inclination for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have sent some reading material that should catch you up on the material of the first few years. Regrettably, as Minerva indicated, you will likely still be placed in a class with the fourth years. All the same, I would confirm with her. The Study of Ancient Runes should be your next choice though in that subject's core there is an element of Divinations. Confirm with Minerva that Arithmancy can fit into your schedule and you can begin some of the essay prompts. A short response should be sufficient for each as long as you understand the material. It was one of my best classes when I was your age, feel free to send me any questions you may have. Also, if you find yourself bored we can always exchange letters discussing Charms and DADA.

Otherwise, how are you doing? Do you have any friends back home you've been able to spend time with? Is your family aware of what has been happening to you? Are you taking care of yourself?

If you need anything, I will be there for you.

All the Very Best,

Filius

oOo

Harry gave the second owl—who was a Hogwarts owl—a letter for McGonagall to confirm Arithmancy as his choice.

Harry found himself rereading Flitwick's letter dozens of times over. Aside from Hermione, and the rare letter from Ron, no one had ever sent him such a personal letter. This summer no one was sending him letters. Aside from the one cryptic letter from Sirius who told him to keep his head down this summer.

Harry waited three days before replying to Flitwick. In those three days, Harry had read two out of the three books for practical applications of arithmancy and he had started on the second textbook. The ward stuff was a lot more interesting than the basics. But the basics were kinda fun too. It was magical math, formula puzzles. Like potions Harry didn't necessarily need a wand, he just needed to be magical.

oOo

Dear Professor Flitwick,

Thank you! I really like the books you sent me and Professor McGonagall confirmed that I have room and the time to take Arithmancy with the fourth year class.

As for your questions. I do not have friends here and the Dursleys do not like to talk about magic or anything related to it so I told them nothing. The nightmares have been pretty bad but my scar does not hurt. I have been eating enough.

oOo

This was a falsehood, but for once it wasn’t the Dursleys fault because he wasn’t truly hungry and he feared what he could keep down if he did eat proper meals.

oOo

I have been exercising a little but mostly I have been reading and completing my summer homework. I plan to force Professor Snape to give me an Outstanding or at least an Exceeds Expectation seeing as I am two years ahead.

Could you give me harder essays for your class when I get back to school? I received an E on my OWLs for your class. I would like to keep moving forward as I never got to do my seventh year.

Also, do you know if Dolores Umbridge will be teaching? I was thinking of starting up a DADA club and I was wondering if you or McGonagall could supervise it?

Thank you for your time.

All the Best,

Harry

oOo

It was the longest letter Harry could ever remember sending someone. The most he had opened up to anyone outside of Ron and Hermione on paper. Reading it over, only the line about his OWLs and being two years ahead seemed odd. If anyone else read this they would probably  think he was crazy. Which was alright, Harry had been called worse.

Writing that letter gave Harry an idea. Harry sent Sirius a letter.

oOo

Hi Snuffles,

Hope you are doing well and eating enough. I know things as they are we can't say much through letters but I wanted to ask you about Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration.

What do you think aside from the obvious moon consideration, is the most useful Transfiguration spells? Is it just natural talent that my dad had for the subject or did he study differently than other people?

And for dueling what do you think is most important?

Love,

Harry

oOo

It was a sedate letter, an academic letter, and Sirius's response was the same, though with little hints about anecdotes that he would tell Harry in person.

Harry began loving school in a way he had never before. He exchanged a near endless chain of letters with Sirius and Flitwick about Transfiguration, DADA, Charms, and Arithmancy.

Always before Harry had written people to talk about Voldemort or with Ron letters about Quidditch. But Harry wasn't fifteen, he was eighteen and had sort of survived a war.

Talking to Sirius, not about the straight theory of Transfiguration but the practical uses, theoretical topics, and spells that he read about in the book was a lot of fun. Maybe Harry should have been exchanging letters with Remus, but as much as Harry loved his old professor, Sirius seemed to care more. Besides, for the more technical stuff he could send a letter to Flitwick. Harry had even gone so far as to send McGonagall a few questions.

Harry had always dumbed himself down, ever since Puntiuna had begun starving him for getting better grades than Dudley and then to remain friends with Ron, who preferred to do anything but homework. But Quidditch wasn't enough to keep his mind busy trapped as he was in Surry. Harry almost started a half a dozen letters to Hermione who surely would have loved Harry's new interest in his academics but Hermione was sharp and she would know something major had changed in him if he did so. Sirius didn't really know Harry well enough for his interest in school to be a red flag. Hiding that he was two years ahead in material from Hermione, however, was going to be a problem.

Of course, he could always confide everything to Ron and Hermione and he wouldn't have to hide anything. Yet there still remained the issue of not being able to explain it properly. If he told Sirius one day, his godfather would understand, having fought in a war himself. Flitwick had been around for two wizarding wars. Ron hadn't lost a single family member nor had Hermione erased her parents' memory of her. They weren't Harry's two best friends who had been tortured, gone into hiding, broke into Gringotts, and countless other life alternating, deadly deeds with Harry yet.

How could he confide in them? What if it hurt them to know the future? What if they started having nightmares like Harry? And perhaps, worst of all, what if he told them and they never understood him like they had before?

oOo

Harry was grateful he didn't forget the date of the Dementor attack, the court case against him may have helped his memory in that. Harry walked to the park, his wand prepared and just like last time he found Dudley and his friends. 

Harry was able to get the upper hand on teasing this round. Dudley didn't have the Cedric comeback as seldom as Harry had grown accustomed to muffling his screams on the rare occasion he slept deeply enough  not to wake up battle ready.

"Why do you have your stick out still?" Dudley asked, frowning down at Harry.

Harry still hated being short. Two years from now he would not be the tallest guy around but for right now, he was still stunted for his age.

"Something is bound to attack me sometime," Harry answered casually. Only this time I'll be ready , Harry thought.

As if on cue the street became colder, the streetlights dimmer, and all the happiness in the world began to fade away as if the saturation of the landscape was being drained by some mighty hand.

The Dementors came gliding like shadows on the wind. Wordlessly, Harry summoned his patronus, his stag charging the dementors before they got close enough to do real damage. Harry pushed Dudley, "Run, Dudi-di-kins!"

They made it back to the house intact.

"What was that?" Dudley asked between panting breaths as Harry leaned back against the closed door.

"Dementors, jail guards that can suck your soul out of your body."

Dudley gaped at Harry. "Why go to that freak school if you have to deal with stuff like that?"

"Because it is better than living here," Harry answered honestly. "I have people who actually care about in my world."

Dudley didn't have a comeback for that. "I feel awful," he said instead, referring not to Harry's troubles but to the depression the Dementors left behind them.

"Chocolate, we need chocolate."

Dudley, not one to question the need for sweets, motioned for Harry to stay by the door as he went into the living room to ask Aunt Petunia for a chocolate bar. He came back and Harry was surprised to receive a small slice.

"Thanks," Harry said nibbling on the bit of chocolate.

"DAMNED OWLS!" Uncle Vernon shouted.

Harry sighed and stepped into the living room to go through the chorus of the Ministries talking letters.

"Ha ha," Uncle Vernon mocked with a self superior air. "You've been expelled."

"Not yet," Harry said, as the second and third owl came.

"What's happening?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"Harry saved me," Dudley volunteered.

"Saved you from what, son?" Uncle Vernon asked, caught between concern for Dudley and the unreasonable rage against anything that threatened his son.

It wasn't one of Vernon's redeeming qualities, per se, but it did make him more relatable.

Harry liked to think that if his parents had lived, Vernon would have received a lot more than a pig's tail.

"A dementor," Harry said without explanation.

Aunt Petunia shrieked and half fainted onto the couch.

"What!?" Uncle Vernon roared.

"Well it was two dementors, actually, and I used a charm to fend them off."

"We should have never taken you in!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Putting our son in danger! Why I ought to ring your–"

"If I wasn't around then the Dark Lord would be and if he were around then the dementors would be one of the numerous dangers that you would have no defense from," Harry said evenly. Uncle Vernon was easier to deal with when they weren't both angry. And last time Dudley had thrown up and been shaking, not chowing down on a chocolate bar.

"I have a gun!"

"And what good is a gun against something you can't even see?" Harry questioned.

"So we should be grateful?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"As long as you don't starve me or hit me or curse my parents' memory, I don't really care what you are. And I would never ask for your gratitude anymore than I would give you mine," Harry said.

“ We housed you!” Vernon roared.

Harry kept his wand out but he crossed his arms as he said, “You both are sadistic, small minded, jealous, and horrible people who used me for all your issues and made me into a servant you paid with literal table scraps. You don't care a wit about me, but one day you're going to care when Dudley grows a heart and can't stand to be around people who never encouraged him to be better, never gave him a reason to try. The real world isn't going to coddle him.”

Vernon had turned purple during Harry's tirade, “Why you little, ungrateful wretch!”

Harry wasn't expecting the backhand. Typically, Vernon was more careful about the damage he did, slap to the back of the head, going at his back below the collar, never anything that would cause a black eye and get the neighbours gossiping.

Harry hadn't been eating enough, his reflexes were slow and he fell back against the door with a thud.

Vernon punched him in the gut and he dropped, losing his grip on his wand.

The evil in Vernon's eyes was just as made and horrific as Voldemort’s.

The Death Eaters had no right to do what they did, but that didn't mean Vernon wasn't the type of man to don a white cloak and hood and join a mob.

He raised a foot, whether to kick Harry or snap his wand, he would never know because Dudley pulled him back.

“Dad! Don't!”

Ah, right.

Dudley had seen Harry get slapped around, been encouraged to hurt him, and beat him up with his own gang.

But Vernon was nearly three times his size, and the man was always careful to keep the probably illegal stuff for when Dudley had gone to bed.

It was nice that his cousin had limits.

“Harry, go,” Dudley said standing between him and his father.

Harry didn't need telling twice, as he scooped up his wand and practically climbed the stairs, his head still ringing.

Harry wrote Flitwick and Sirius a letter, followed by one to Amelia Bones, explaining his side of the story.

oOo

Dear Flitwick,

It happened like before. Minus one howler.

All the Best,

Harry

oOo

Dear Snuffles,

I'll be good and I promise to stay inside. Dudley gave me chocolate, guess he's not all bad after all.

Love,

Harry

oOo

Dear Madam Bones,

Can I sue the government for sending two Dementors after me and my cousin? I don't really want money or anything except for it not to happen again and being able to keep my wand so I can keep saving my own life.

Thanks for your time.

Warm Regards,

Harry Potter

oOo

Flitwick's response was clipped and he promised to be at the hearing with Albus, along with McGonagall. Sirius sent back I love ya kid. And Madam Bones wrote back a rather informal letter.

oOo

Dear Mr. Potter,

I will not allow anyone in the Ministry to break your wand. I will be digging into who sent the Dementors to muggle Surry. I only regret to say that you must still attend the hearing as the Minister himself requested it. As stupid as the formalities are they must be practiced. However, I implore you not to worry, as the Head of Department of Law Enforcement, I can promise you will keep your wand and be able to attend Hogwarts for your Fifth Year. Try not to use any more magic, but do not hesitate to keep yourself safe if the need arises.

Yours Sincerely,

Amelia Bones

P.S. Susan says hi.

oOo

Harry smiled at the letter and wrote back:

Dear Madam Bones,

Thank you so much.

Warm Regards,

Harry

P.S. Hi Susan :)

oOo

When the Order came to pick him out at his home he was packed, his room clean, and Hedwig's empty cage was bird poop free. Harry had told her to go ahead to Sirius's place after delivering a message to Madame Bones.

Harry chatted with Tonks happily and Remus gave Harry a quick hug.

"Thanks, Harry," Remus said.

"Thanks for what?" Harry asked as he rolled on his broom closer toward the older wizard. It was good to be flying again. Harry was not going to get kicked off the team this year even if he had to play nice with Umbridge, he would. Well, at least he wouldn't pick a fight with her.

"Your letters to Sirius, he waits for them every day, you know. He spends hours writing and perfecting his responses. I think you're the only thing keeping him sane."

Harry smiled, he knew exactly what Sirius was going through and he was glad to hear that the letters had meant as much to his Godfather as they had to him. "They've been the only thing keeping me sane too."

"A real interest in your studies, not just defense, huh? Sirius came to me for a couple of the questions you asked him," Remus said with a grin.

Harry shrugged, "What else was I supposed to do this summer, mope?"

Remus frowned, opening his mouth to say something but Tonks swept down and challenged Harry to race. Which Harry eagerly agreed to.

By the time Moody let them land they were freezing. But it had been completely worth it to taste the sky again.

oOo

Grimmauld Place was almost unrecognizable. It was, dare Harry even think it clean.

Mrs. Weasley greeted them and Harry started to go around her to go see Sirius. Writing to him had been great but Harry couldn't shake the feeling he was exchanging letters with a deadman. Until Harry saw Sirius for himself, in the flesh, he couldn't really believe his godfather was alive. His godfather who like his parents had died for him, only Sirius had died because of Harry's mistakes.

"No, Harry," Mrs. Weasley, holding him by the shoulder, "There's an Order-"

Harry shrugged her off, his temper rising, "Like any of you have anything important to say. You talk and you talk but your actions are always too late to ever do anyone any good."

Momentarily stunned by Harry's hostility, he was able to get past her. There was a mixed reaction to Harry's barging in, several people looked annoyed or in Snape's case actively scowling, several more looked indifferent as Harry had said, they didn't truly have that much to discuss, while a handful smiled at him. Harry wondered why the Order had even been gathered, Voldemort had yet to return to power, but then maybe it was a good thing the Order was getting a head start.

Harry saw McGonagall who gave him a warm–if small–smile. Harry ignored the Headmaster before the Headmaster had the chance to avert his eyes from Harry's. Sirius stood, his smile radiant, Harry hugged him tightly. Sirius chuckled when Harry nearly squeezed the life out of him and returned the hug just as fiercely.

"How touching," Snape sneered. "But some of us have more important things to do with our time."

Harry let go of Sirius. Before his godfather could start a fight, Harry said in a sincere voice with a huge smile toward the dour wizard, "Sorry, Professor. I'll leave."

Harry grinned at Sirius's shocked expression as he left the room.

Harry ran up the steps. The house elf heads were still in the hall but it was still remarkably dust free compared to his first visit here.

Hermione jumped him as soon as he reached the bedroom they were staying in, Harry hugged her back.

"Oh, Harry, you must be so angry at us!" she started, "Ron, Harry's here!"

Harry smiled at his two best friends, internally laughing at the thought of these younger versions snogging. "I'm not mad, Hermione."

"Hey, Harry!" Ron greeted grinning.

"How have you been?" Harry asked them both.

"Fine," Hermione said warily. She waited but when he didn't blow up at her or demand answers, she asked, "Are you… Are you not mad at us?"

"Nope, not mad," Harry agreed. "Ron, do you want to kick my butt at a game of wizarding chess?"

Ron's face lit up like it was Christmas, "Yeah, sure mate."

Hermione frowned at them, "Um, Harry, you seem calm about the whole dementor attack…"

"I sent Hedwig to Madam Bones," Harry said. Hedwig flew down from her perch in the room to cuddle on Harry's shoulder, "And she said there was nothing to worry about. Fudge is out to get me is all."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried glance.

"The Head of Magical Law Enforcement owled you back?"

"Of course she did," he said, "Aside from being Harry Potter, sementor attacks in a muggle suburb is a big enough deal for her to be personally involved in."

"Mate," Ron started slowly. "You sure you're feeling alright?"

"Honestly," Harry assured them, "I'm fine."

"Really?" Hermione asked, "Because at the end of last year you didn't talk to us at all and we were prepared for you to be angry and now… now your–"

"I've been exchanging letters with Sirius almost every other day all summer," Harry said. "I know no one was abandoning me."

Fred and George apparated into the room. "Harry!" they said in unison.

"Hi Gred, hi Forge," Harry said.

They laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders as they held up extendable ears. "You want to listen in to the Order meeting?"

Harry eyed the ears, yeah he would like to know but–

Mrs. Weasley called them down for supper.

Fred and George sighed. 

Fred said, "Guess we are too late this time."

George pocketed the ears, "We had better hide these before Mum trashes these too."

"Is everything going according to plan then?" Harry asked as they headed down the steps.

Harry had put the Triwizard rewards in Fred’s pocket with a note.

They smiled at him. George whispered, "Yeah, we got a space in Diagon Alley."

"What are you whispering about now?" Hermione asked giving the twins a suspicious look.

They only smirked at Hermione before disapparating, Mrs. Weasley yelled at them when they re-appeared downstairs.

Harry got to Sirius's side in record time.

Snape turned his chin up at the happy pair only to almost trip at the sight of Kreacher who appeared in front of him.

The elf bowed low, "Kreacher welcomes, Master Potter."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, "You two have met?"

"Dobby introduced us," Harry supplied.

"I thought the elf was yours, Sirius?" Snape inquired.

"I thought so too," Sirius said. "But Harry can have him. He seems reasonably civil with him."

Kreacher deepened his bow, so that his large ears brushed the floor, "Kreacher would be honored to serve Master Potter."

"Okay," Sirius agreed. A power washed through the room as Kreacher's loyalties shifted.

"Idiot!" Snape hissed. "Now we will have to re-"

"Kreacher, I forbid you from sharing anything you know, have learned, or have heard as well as will hear and learn with anyone by either magical or mundane means outside the Order without my explicit permission," Harry commanded.

Snape's lips tightened but he gave one short nod and left.

Sirius elbowed Harry, "That's better than the command Albus came up with."

Harry grinned.

"Kreacher will be cleaning, Master can call if he needs Kreacher," the elf said before popping away.

"Why does he like you?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, "I must remind him of someone."

Sirius frowned at Harry, "I suppose you are sort of like my little brother, even maybe a more than you are like James. Though Reggie got messed up with Death Eaters."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Harry said and he wanted to tell him how Regulus had died fighting against Voldemort. But right now wasn't the time or place for that talk.

Sirius shook himself like a dog shaking off water and Harry saw that their letters had helped him recover more of himself. He looked healthier and more cheerful than he had in their original timeline. It was a ray of hope in what Harry was sure would be a difficult year, even knowing the future, Harry's luck was not to be trusted.

oOo

AN: I know I am making Harry more academically inclined but remember that he is older than his peers now. My Harry will be powerful, smarter but not invincible, he still has a temper and will still make mistakes. 

Thoughts, giant dragonflies, or feedback, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: There are direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix . Also because JK is hurting people, the book My Shadow is Purple by Scott Straut is a must read and is truer to how I see myself than anything I have ever read.

Chapter 3 - Slipping Through the Cracks

" Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley with a yawn.

" Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort's name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

"Has he gotten back his full power yet?" Harry asked immediately.

" No, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley snapped, "They're too young."

She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched on its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

" Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for over two months. He's got the right to know what's been happen-"

" Hang on!" interrupted George loudly.

" How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

" We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.

“‘ You're too young, you're not in the Order,’" said Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. "Harry's not even of age!"

Well, Harry thought, as far as they knew he wasn't.

" It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," said Sirius calmly, "that's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand -"

'"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. The expression on her normally kind face looked dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

Which is when Harry snapped, "Just tell me if he has regained his power or not I can guess the rest."

"He hasn't regained power, but the rumors of him coming back, of him being the one to kidnap you have shifted things," Sirius said.

"Haven't you been reading the papers, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"Well, they've been saying really awful things. Reeta Skeeter heard you tell Dumbledore 'Graveyard, Voldemort, Pettigrew, they both got away,' and now everyone thinks, well that you'r-"

"You're mad," Ron supplied, "Like a lunatic."

"Well not everyone thinks so but according to the papers," Hermione added.

"But some of the Death Eaters and Voldemort's lesser followers have begun to move. And so have we, that is the Order and Dumbledore. Even if he isn't at full strength yet he still has resources, beyond Wormtail."

"But what can he do?" Hermione asked. "What does he want if he isn't just trying to come back to life?"

"He's after something," Sirius said, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

Harry's couldn't keep the look of despair off his face, "It is in the Department of Mysteries, and you shouldn't bother with it. The damage has already been done."

Sirius sat forward, surprise and worry warring on his face, "How can you possibly know what it is?"

The rest of the room was hushed. Even Mrs. Weasley, who had been trying to shoo her children out of the room, paused looking at Harry.

"It's nothing. It's why my parents were murdered, but it changes nothing now. You should just let him have it. Voldemort already wants me dead, so it's nothing, completely meaningless," Harry said as he stared at Sirius and remembered this beloved man falling into the Veil. Sirius had died for him, died so Harry could hunt Horcruxes and martyr himself later on.

Sirius reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder in quiet comfort.

Harry sucked in a breath, realising that at some point he must have stopped breathing.

It was too much. It was everything he wanted, a chance at a family, to have Sirius back, but it was too much.

He turned his attention back to Mrs. Weasley, “Sirius has every right.”

She blinked at him, “What, Harry dear?”

“Sirius has every right to make choices on my behalf, he's my godfather.”

She scoffed, “Hardly. He can't take care of himself, much less a child.”

It was an effort not to bear his teeth, “Yet he's done more for me than the Dursleys ever had and that was Dumbledore’s stupid choice.”

Mrs. Weasley drew herself up, “You were safe.”

Harry pictured Vernon's hands around his throat, Aunt Petunia refusing him a cup of water after making him landscape in the full summer sun, and what Uncle Vernon did to him when the door was closed, when he was told to keep quiet as the monster lashed his back until he bled.

It was a miracle he had survived his childhood, and Sirius’s very existence had ensured Harry's safety.

Sometimes, having a mass murderer as your magical dogfather was a boon.

Mrs. Weasley was still ranting at him and he had had enough.

“Mrs. Weasley, Ginny got possessed by Voldemort in her first year, Ron took on a whole nest of spiders, and Hermione survived looking into the eye of the basilisk. I killed a professor my first year, a basilisk my second year, fended of a horde of dementors my third, and won the Triwizard tournament that was rigged by a Death Eater last semester, but I'm sorry, we're all too young to hear about rumours of the Dark Lord returning. Did I get that right?”

Mrs. Weasley’s jaw dropped as the room fell perfectly quiet.

Only for Ginny to break it with a, “I told you so! Nothing you say can possibly be worse than being possessed.”

Mrs. Weasley shuddered but shook her head, “No, I know you lot. The more you know the more trouble you will get into.”

Which was entirely untrue.

It was secrets that had gotten Harry into trouble, the mystery that Dumbledore perfectly laid out for him to follow.

As naive as a lamb to slaughter.

Harry remember the walk through the forest, the heavy anticipation of the Death Eaters eager for his defeat and humiliation.

Adults who liked nothing more than to hurt and kill children.

Harry stood abruptly, bolting from the room as he sidestepped  Ginny who was standing in the doorway. He managed to get to the second floor bathroom, slamming the door behind him, in time for his stomach to reprocess his dinner into the toilet.

oOo

Sirius had run after Harry, Arthur stopping Molly from following.

"How could he know what it is?" Tonks asked. "We don't even know what it is."

The room's occupants exchanged glances. They were all thinking the same question, What had happened to Harry during the last task?

oOo

Sirius stopped just in time to spare his nose from being broken as the door was slammed shut in his face. He probably should have knocked but he doubted Harry could have heard over the sound of his own retching. Sirius shut the door behind himself and went to the floor on his knees so he could rub Harry's back.

He saved the boy's glasses in the knick of time, folding them into his own collar so they wouldn't risk a watery fate.

It was not long until Harry was dry heaving. Which was worrisome, was he eating enough?

Sirius flushed it down before he rose to return with a wet cloth he laid over the back of Harry's neck.

It took a bit longer for him to find his voice, each word choking over tears he seemed unwilling to shed. "It's my fault they're dead."

"No, Harry, no," Sirius said softly but with feeling. "Your parents loved you, you were their world. Only your death could have destroyed them."

oOo

We are so proud of you, You're so brave.

Harry heaved again, bringing more pain than relief.

"What's happened, Harry?" Sirius asked. "What's happened to you?"

Harry shook his head and stopped when the motion made the world spin.

"How did you know about the weapon?"

"It's the prophecy," Harry mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"It's the prophecy, the one that made my parents go into hiding," Harry said, looking up to confront Sirius’s gaze.

Horror and understanding crossed his face, "Who told you? Dumbledore?"

"Voldemort, he showed, he was inside of my head, he showed me—" Harry broke off and grabbed a towel to wipe his sweaty face.

Sirius put a hand on Harry's cheek, "How did he show you?"

"He got inside my head, in my dreams, my nightmares. My scar hurt when he was angry or happy… He used me, he wanted me to get it for him."

Sirius pulled Harry into his arms, rubbing his back. "It's going to be okay, Harry, you're going to be alright."

Harry clung to his godfather, "Just don't die, Sirius, please, just don't die."

Sirius held him tighter, "I am not going to fail you again, son. I am not going to leave you again."

But he had, and wounds long pushed aside came tumbling forward. Harry didn't cry, yet Sirius stayed with him in the darkly lit bathroom for hours as Harry tried to work up the will to act 'normal.'

He wanted nothing more than to drop out of school and run away with Sirius, run away from Voldemort and the world he had tainted.

oOo

A few days later, there was another Order meeting. Harry had ardently refused to talk any more about the incident, even to Sirius.

Dumbledore began with, "Our top priority must be keeping the door to the room in the Dep-"

"Harry says we shouldn't bother with it," Sirius interrupted.

Albus whipped his attention toward Sirius, "What does Harry know of the Department of Mysteries? What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," Tonks said, ignoring the severity of the Headmaster's tone. "He told us what it was, or at least, he told Sirius what it was and he said it didn't matter. That it had already done its damage."

"Yes, and we should take Potter at his word about everything, I suppose," Severus said snidely.

"Snape," Sirius said seriously, waiting for the other man to make eye contact. "It's the Prophecy."

Severus's sallow face drained of all semblance of color, making him look wraithlike. He wet his lips before asking, "And how would Potter know about the Prophecy?"

"He said the Dark Lord showed him, that he broke into his mind, his nightmares, and showed him," Sirius said.

The entire room shifted uneasily.

"But that's impossible, Riddle doesn't know the full Prophecy, how could Harry?" Albus asked.

"More?" Severus asked. He looked like he was going to be sick. "More, of that accursed thing? What more could it possibly say?"

"It isn't relevant-" Albus soothed.

"The hell it isn't!" Sirius said, slamming his fist on the table. "Lily and James told me what you told them. But Lily thought you left something out, that your speech was too prepared, almost over-acted when you told them. What did you leave out? 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. What's missing? What are you asking us to risk our lives for when Harry seems convinced the only difference the Prophecy will make is ensuring Voldemort more obsessed with killing the Boy Who Lived?"

Albus looked furious, "Those words were not something I would have had you share."

Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Nymphadora, Remus, Kingsley, and Hestia looked horrified at the prophecy.

“What’s missing?” Sirius demanded. 

Albus sighed, and seeing the growing determination of those around him, he chose to answer him. “And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord Knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.”

Minerva was close to tears. "Albus," she said sharply, "Harry cannot be the only way to defeat him. He's lost too much already, how can we ask this of him?"

"You told Lily and James this?" Remus asked. "You told her this when she was still pregnant? No wonder she was heartbroken. Why James was so on edge. They weren't just afraid of Voldemort because they were known Order members. Harry doesn’t just have the power to kill him, he has to kill him or be killed by him." It was not a pleasant realisation.

oOo

What remained of Severus's heart clenched. The pain he had caused Lily even more than her death, he poisoned her last years alive. For not the first time Severus wished it had been him. Wished Albus had caught him at the door and struck him down. Wished James Potter hadn't saved his life and had let Lupin eat him. Wished anything could have changed that wouldn't have led to Lily suffering and dying.

"If Harry's mind has been infiltrated then he needs to learn to protect himself. Severus, you will teach the boy Occlumency."

Severus nodded numbly.

Minerva's temper, however, was visibly building. "You cannot pit the boy against the Dark Lord. I do not care what any prophecy says, enough of his life has been ruined by foolishness."

oOo

"At the rate things are going," Kingsley said in his deep voice. "Harry is his own greatest defense. We can't count on any of us being there when he needs help. We should reconsider withholding information from him. We should enable him to learn more about defensive magic and dueling."

"And then he will tell his friends-" Snape protested.

"Harry's not talking to his friends," Sirius said. "He's barely talking to me. Something has happened to him."

"Something aside from You-Know-Who invading his mind?" Arthur asked, sounding uncharacteristically harsh.

"Harry is still a child," Albus stated.

Sirius frowned at him, "If you mean he's human and can make mistakes then I would agree with you. But show me his childhood, explain to me how living with the Dursleys and getting killed almost every year at Hogwarts has somehow added to his immaturity. When I talk with him it isn't a child I am speaking with

"He isn't James, Sirius, no matter how much he might look like him," Mrs. Weasley said.

"I know that."

"Harry will be told what he needs to be told when the time comes," Albus said.

"And what about the things Harry might tell us?" Sirius asked. "He's beginning not to trust you old man. He gets agitated any time your name is brought up in conversation. What happens when Harry knows more than us and he chooses to leave you in the dark?"

"That will not happen," Albus said, self-assured. "Harry might be upset with me for the moment but he has always trusted me."

Sirius and Severus exchanged a look. They were two men who tended to despise one another for the other's weaknesses and screw ups, but they were also two men who had been left behind by Albus Dumbledore.

They trusted him now, not because their gut believed it, but because Albus was one of the only things standing between them and a prison sentence.

That fact, didn’t precisely inspire confidence. But what could they say?

Albus always believed himself to be in the right and there was little anyone could do to change that.

At least, not before it was too late to change course.

However, if they had trusted Dumbledore as there secret keeper, Lily and James might be alive today.

oOo

Harry threw ten gallons into the fountain as he passed, making sure to hide it from Mr. Weasley. He wasn’t certain if the man would be hurt by it, but he knew Ron would have been sullen for days.

Harry felt some reluctance handing the wand to the guard. Last time he was in the ministry, everyone had been out for his blood. 

Much like last time, they ended up rushing to their new appointment. 

But this time, the stands on his side were not empty.

Just as Flitwick had promised, he and McGonagall were in the stands behind him.

Albus appeared as his defendant just as he had the first time.

This time, however, Albus caught Harry's eye. Harry smiled at them. He caught Madame Bones’s gaze, she winked at him and Harry had to suppress another grin.

As scary as this dungeon had been the first time around, Harry was now enjoying all of these adults playing house.

All their grandeur was mockery of their station as the majority were cowards who would crumble in a time of true need.

Madame Bones was prepared and took control of the courtroom at once. "We are all here today because certain members of this Ministry have a personal vendetta against Harry James Potter who has been accused of underaged magic. I would like to dismiss this case as I have confirmed that it was under ministry orders that two dementors were sent to Little Whinging, Surrey. I do not know yet who dispatched them, but I do know that Mr. Potter's use of a corporeal patronus to save his own life and soul as well as his cousin's, Dudley Dursley who Mr. Potter lives with and already knows of the existence of magic —is quite reasonable. I do have all the facts correct, don't I, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said.

The room was silent and Dumbledore looked, as seldom happened, caught off guard. He was standing beside Mrs. Figg who had not been called to the stand as a witness.

"It is just a story," Fudge said. "A made up–“

"I looked into it after Mr. Potter sent me a letter asking if he could sue us for sending dementors after him. As I have said, I have not discovered who sent them but I can confirm that the records show that they were sent. Is there anyone who doubts my word, my office?"

There was a long silence in which no one dared to go against Madame Bones.

She clapped her hands once, "Then we are in agreement, Harry J. Potter is cleared of all charges. Thank you, Mr. Potter, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professors Flitwick and McGonagall for your time, you may leave. The rest of you lot will stay to be interviewed about the dementor incident by my team of Aurors, Minister, if you would be so kind as to supervise, seeing as you seemed so concerned about this case. I will be in my office getting real work done."

Harry was grinning as he ran over to Flitwick and McGonagall. "Thanks for coming, Professors," Harry said warmly as they made their way to the door which several Aurors were entering through.

Albus followed behind them more sedately.

"Hi, Mrs. Figg," Harry greeted, as they emerged into the hall.

"Hi, Harry," she replied drifting to Albus's side.

"I cannot believe they were going to give you a full criminal hearing, for a minor," Flitwick said.

"It was amusing to see Madame Bones knock Fudge down a notch," McGonagall said, falling into step beside Harry.

"You sent Madame Bones a letter, Harry?" Albus asked from behind them.

"Yep," Harry said shortly.

Flitwick shot Albus a distinctively cold look.

"Filius is something the matter?" Albus asked.

"Not at all. The situation itself is simply outrageous," Filius answered.

"You didn't have to come, I was surprised to see you both in the stands,” Dumbledore said. “How did you know when the hearing was? It wasn't in the papers."

"Harry gave me the date and Minerva and I chose to come early," Filius said.

"I was not aware the two of you were in correspondence."

"Harry switched electives," Minerva said. "Filius has been ensuring he can at least start with the fourth years in Arithmancy so he isn't two years behind."

Albus blinked, "Which class did you drop, Harry?"

"Divinations," Harry said. "I have no talent for it. Besides, Trelawny is more or less the reason my future has always been in the gutter."

"Professor,” Albus corrected. “Prophets do not have a choice about their magic.”

Harry shrugged and switched topics. "I really do like Arithmancy. The concept of wards is too cool. It reminds me of muggle maths."

"Do you miss muggle school?" Filius asked.

"Not in the slightest," Harry said.

Minerva's lips turned up at the corners, "Magic is excellent."

"And friends, and not having guardians who yell at you for getting better grades than their precious son," Harry said.

Minerva's mouth pinched and she glared at Albus, "I told you those muggles were foul. The worst sort of people."

Harry blinked, "You know the Dursleys?"

"I was there the night Albus insisted you stay with them. I argued against it."

"It was the safest op-"

Harry snorted. They had reached Mr. Weasley who was ready to take him back to Grimmauld Place. Harry turned to meet Albus's gaze, "You only care about my safety when it suits you.” He turned to the others before the Headmaster respond and said, “Bye Professors, thanks again for being here."

Mr. Weasley waved to the three professors before leading Harry to the exit.

oOo

Minerva crossed her arms and glared at Albus.

He raised a brow at her.

"He isn't going back there this coming summer."

"The blo-"

"No," she cut him off, "I will take him in myself if Sirius still isn't cleared. But he isn't going back there."

"Harry didn't make the Dursleys sound too terrible," Filius said, gazing after Harry.

"No," Minerva said sadly. "Which means it's probably even worse than what little he does complain about them."

Albus ran a hand down his white beard, and it was harder than it should have been to shove down his compassion for the boy. Albus had always admired Harry but now something was changing, something in the lad, in the Order, in his staff. Albus was not sure he was ready for those changes.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, green sea turtles, or feedback, pretty please?

Chapter Text

Is it worth it to read the old: in my basis opinion, no. I've had to edit every forsaken line in this fic and in effort to not replot this, I’m just letting some of it go. For instance, some of the dialogue I’m leaning into my ADHD, if you don’t have it, enjoy your executive functionality, braggarts ;D

oOo

Fanon/Canon: I do not care about either. I know there are certain elements I explore that are unappreciated, but no, I’m not changing it. HP is not a fandom with a shortish fics, if you want a power-fantasy, this ain’t it.

Chapter 4: A Shift in the Paradigm

Harry almost walked into Lucius Malfoy. He looked up at the well groomed, proud, blonde pureblood and remembered him unkempt on his knees, remembered him being tortured, remembered him and his wife pleading and fighting for Draco's life.

Lucius had such different beliefs from Harry's and yet- and yet Harry felt the hatred he had always had for this man fade. Harry would fight him if he tried to hurt someone he cared for, but he pitied the wizard too much to work up enough resentment to hate him.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," Harry greeted cordially.

Both Arthur and Lucius froze in what they were going to say and stared down at the Boy Who Lived.

Lucius regained himself first. "Mr. Potter," he said civilly.

"Hope you've been enjoying the summer," Harry said.

oOo

Lucius wasn't quite gaping openly at Potter as Arthur was , but it was a near thing.

"It has been refreshingly sunny," Lucius said automatically. "How has your summer been?" His upbringing more or less demanded he be polite to someone being polite to him unless they were a mudblood or a blood traitor. Harry Potter, by definition, a blood traitor, however, he  was too, too- influential to be rude to if the boy had gone out of his way to be civil.

"I've been reading a lot, trying to catch up on wasted time and all," Potter answered.

Lucius raised a brow. Should he probe? Potter was many things, a liar—despite what the papers said—was not among them. Which meant that the Dark Lord was back, even if Lucius personally had had no contact with him. Severus hadn't told him anything other than Dumbledore believed Potter and was searching. "Draco has been studying as well as the OWLs are this year. I must get on with my business here," Lucius said, trying to extract himself from this bizarre interaction. "I trust your trial went in your favor?"

Harry nodded, "It did. Have a good day, Mr. Malfoy."

Maybe the world had turned upside down.

oOo

"Good day, Mr. Potter," Lucius said, a thoughtful expression laying claim to his features.

Harry pulled Arthur along to the exit.

When they were out of earshot Arthur demanded, "What was that?"

"Manners?" Harry replied. "I didn't say anything wrong did I?"

Arthur shook his head, "No, but that was Malfoy." He said Malfoy the way Harry said Wormtail.

"You don’t have to trust them, but you don’t have to treat them like enemies to know that they are," Harry said.

Arthur frowned, "He is our enemy."

"Maybe, but he is also a self centered person and a father. He is not a good person but that does not mean he is incapable of doing good things."

"And what are the chances that man does something good for anyone else?"

Harry shrugged, "When someone makes him choose between his idea of the way the world should be and his family."

Arthur didn't seem to know what to say to that. He clearly wanted to say that Malfoy was all evil but they both knew Arthur was capable of doing very bad things to save his family. Arthur shook his head again, "You should not trust that man."

"I don't," Harry said. "But I don't have to go out of my way to be mean to him either."

"You went out of your way to be nice to him," Arthur muttered.

Harry grinned up at him, "And the looks on your faces was completely worth it."

Arthur laughed as they stepped into the streets of Muggle London.

oOo

Sirius and Harry were sitting with Buckbeak in Sirius's mother's room as Harry described the trial.

"You really weren't worried?" Sirius asked.

"I haven't been preaching that Voldemort is going to come back, that's Dumbledore's gig. I don't think the public hates me enough that the Ministry could get away with snapping my wand. Still, Fudge wanted to do it. Madame Bones didn't give him the chance. He's not evil, but I think he's someone who would help it along," Harry said, resting his chin on his knees.

Sirius nodded, "He's jealous of Dumbledore. His weaknesses and insecurities drive him to do stupid things. Not a good combination for a leader.”

Harry sighed, “Humans aren't the best.”

Rubbing his beard, Sirius asked more softly, "Harry, why aren't you hanging out with Ron and Hermione?"

He shrugged, "I'll be with them all year, I have one night left to spend with you."

Sirius smiled, "I'm going to miss you."

Not as much as I've missed you, Harry thought. 

"How hard is it to become an animagus?"

Grinning Sirius answered, "Harder yet simpler than you would think. James had an easier time with it than I did. It involves a lot of soul searching, or in my case, a lot of trusting your own magic. James was able to picture his animal form before his first time. I just jumped into it and Pete- Well, James and I practiced transfiguring him into a rat and eventually he figured it out for himself."

"Wait, so did you guys pick a rat for his form?" Harry asked.

"No, there is a transfiguration spell that just turns people into an animal, a non-specified animal. Most people don't use it in duals because there is always the chance the person turns into a lion and then you’re in worse shape than you were with the human, magical or otherwise."

"So why did my dad have an easier time with it than you?"

Sirius put a hand into his curls, pulling gently at his scalp. "James was more comfortable with himself. Of course, why shouldn't he have been? He was rich, talented, good looking, and had parents who loved him. Your grandparents, Harry, were remarkable people. They took me in when I ran away at sixteen. At any rate, James liked who he was, knew who he was, sure he was full of himself, and big headed at times but he never had a problem with who he was.

"Me on the other hand. Well, did Remus ever tell you about what I did to Snape?"

Harry shook his head. He knew the story but he'd never heard Sirius tell it.

"Well, we were always picking on Snape. We were bullies really, not that Snivellus didn't give as good as he got but we were usually the ones to start it. That the girl James was gone on was Snape's best friend made him a constant irritatent to James."

"My mum's best friend was Snape?" Harry asked, he knew that Snape had been friends with his mom but not that they had mutually been that close.

"Yep. Lily was… how do I say this? Lils was a bit like Hermione. Brilliant, bullheaded, and not always the easiest person to like until you really got to know her. She was a lot to take in, but she was unfailingly kind. You got that from her.”

Harry smiled, it was rare anyone told him he was like her, beyond the color of his eyes. “At any rate, as we got older I think our pranks got meaner, as did Snape. He figured out there was something up with Remus and he kept watching us.

"You have to understand, Harry, that I honestly believed that if Snape found out about Remus being a werewolf he would find a way to get him expelled. Or worse if his ‘friends’ got involved. Aside from Greyback, Voldemort isn’t kind to those who are less than pure, less than loyal.”

“Why did you hate him so much? It always seems personal between you two. I mean, I know why I hate, because now he’s the bully.”

Sirius let out a breath, “Snape was tacit friends with my little brother. After all I did to protect Reggie from the worst of our parents, there he was with some halfblood determined to join a cult that would happily massacre his entire family. His muggle father for what he was and his mother for polluting the Prince line. He even went by Half-Blood Prince , the absolute twat. Mind you, Snape never came off as someone with a loving family, but I doubt his family was shoving the garbage about blood purity mine was.”

Because Harry knew them all now,

Andromeda Tonks had been tortured for Harry's sake, he asked, “How did your cousins handle it?”

Sirius snorted, “My sisters, cousins, but raised as sisters did not handle the pressure well. Bella was not crazy her entire life. When we were children, she was actually quite kind, always high-spirited but she was… a whimsical child. She never cared about appearances, until she got into Hogwarts and my Aunt beat that care into her. Being the oldest, she took the brunt of it, and like Regulus, as the youngest, Narcissa learned well enough by example. If her father ever raised a hand to her, it wasn't out of need.”

“And Andromeda?”

Sirius smiled, “She was my favourite, still is, though I doubt she thinks well of me know even if her daughter has told her about me. Andromeda was a quiet pillar of strength, with a wicked sense of humour. She had a particular mischief about her, and unlike me, she was able to put aside her ego well enough to never get caught for it. She was, at one point, meant to be my wife.”

Harry choked, “ What!? ”

“Originally, I was engaged to Bella, but then I was sorted into Gryffindor and that flew out the window.”

“You can't be serious! She's your first cousin!”

 Sirius barked a rough laugh, “More than my first, both my parents shared the same last name before they were married if you remember. Despite my delinquent ways, I was still Heir to House of Black and my Aunt still wanted her direct line to inherit, even if my reputation wasn't grand enough for her eldest. Andi married Ted when I was sixteen and I gave her back her dowry, my mother nearly murdered me for it. That's when I ran.”

Harry shook his head, “Your line didn't marry siblings, did they?”

Sirius patted his knee, “Don't worry, despite wizards keeping their witches under lock and key, none of the lines are as pure as they want them to be.”

Harry gave him a suspicious look, “And what does that mean?”

Sirius smiled, “Fertility potions are a bit iffy. For instance, you can permanently turn a woman into a man but it's fifty-fifty whether or not that child could sire children or vice-versa. At least it was when I was a child, I don't know what medical advances have been made since then. Add that to the fact that inbreeding is infamous for causing fertility concerns, and well, witches over the centuries have found their own ways in acquiring children. A few glamour spells and no one ever has to know that a witch’s spouse need never attend his duties.”

Harry blinked, “You mean…”

Sirius grinned, “I mean, I'm a Black, regrettably, through and through, as I am my mother's child. But whether my father was my sire? I will never know, the spells for tracking such things have laws against their use and they are non-applicable in court.”

“Really?” Harry asked, fascinated. “One too many lords cheated out of their inheritance, and there was a time witches were executed for infidelity, even if it wasn't by choice. Merlin was the one who put an end to that nearly a thousand years ago.”

Harry's expression must have been greatly contorted because Sirius chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“You see how much I hated it? The history I came from? I'll never understand anyone who wants to be a pureblood. Hogwarts was my first escape from it. Figures my first friend would be a pureblood, but the Potters were practically a blood traitor, like the Weasleys. It was the best years of my life. Then there was Snape, dabbling in the Dark Arts, courting baby Death Eaters, pulling my little brother into something he wasn't ready for. My parents were horrible people who believed everything Voldemort did, but they never threw in with him, not their lives, futures, or money. But Reggie did, because he wanted to be like the genius Potions Master a year ahead of him who his brother didn't like. And with all of that, Snape wouldn't stop following Lily around, a young witch who was muggleborn during a civil war.

“I don't think he ever understood how much danger he put her in. I had more reasons to hate Snape than the others and when he started sniffing around Remus… I did something unforgivable. Two wrongs, do not make a right, as you have reminded me in the past.

“When Snape didn't let it go, I goaded him into finding a way to the Shrieking Shack on the Full Moon."

"Did you mean to kill him?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius said, his face flushed with shame. "At least, I wasn't thinking that far ahead. But I was a fool, because I should have acknowledged that Snape could have gotten killed or turned, which no child deserves. I think I hurt Remus more than anyone there though. Had Remus woken up to either having turned someone else or killing Severus…" He took a deep breath. "Frankly, I am surprised Remus ever forgave me. Neither he nor James talked to me for weeks afterwards and I had detention for the rest of the year. By rights, I should have been expelled, but Albus is very good at giving second chances, especially to people who probably don't deserve it."

"You're not a bad person," Harry said.

Sirius smiled sadly, "I'm far from perfect. It's why when I became an animagus I wasn't able to see what I would be, because I wasn't willing to look that deep. So I jumped blindly, knowing I was strong enough magically to achieve it. I was a dog and it was great, until I saw my reflection. Figures I would be a Grim. An omen of death."

Harry put a hand on Sirius's shoulder, "I've made mistakes too."

"Not ones that resulted in people dying, Harry," Sirius said.

Harry felt his heart ache and he wanted to tell Sirius that he had, so many times over. In truth, Harry wasn’t even sure he was aware of everyone who had died on his behalf.

But he wasn’t ready to tell Sirius about the future. A future Harry had every intention of changing.

Yet, Harry’s years before fifth hadn’t exactly been easy either, "I killed Professor Quirrell."

Sirius blinked, "What?"

"Quirinus Quirrell, I killed him in my first year."

Sirius looked lost, "Why? How? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Dumbledore hushed it up I think. 'His death was a terrible accident.' But it wasn't, I killed him, and I didn't have to. Had I just kept my nose out of it Dumbledore's Mirror of Erised would have kept it safe."

"Keep what safe?"

"The Philosopher's Stone."

"What was that doing at Hogwarts and why would Quirinus want- He was working for Voldemort?"

"He had Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head. He wore a turban to class, he was our DADA Professor."

Sirius just stared at Harry for a moment. Finally, he asked, "How did you kill him?"

"I held onto his face."

"That doesn't make any sense. Harry, how does holding onto his face kill a wizard plus a dark lord?"

"Whatever my mother did to save me, it kept the Dark Lord from being able to touch me. Touching hurts us both, but it burned Quirrell's face and I held on even when I passed out. It resulted in killing Quirrell. Voldemort got away as a spirit."

"You were eleven?" Sirius asked.

"Yes."

"Merlin, Harry! Why didn't you ask for help?"

"We told McGonagall someone was after the stone. We thought it was Snape but he turned out to be protecting the thing. Hermione figured out how to get by Fluffy and the plants. I caught the key and Ron won the chess match, while Hermione got past the potions. I got Voldemort-Quirrell and the stone in the mirror."

"Harry, Quirrell was a fully fledged wizard; he could have killed you."

"I killed him first and if I had been smarter I wouldn't have been in that situation."

"Harry-" Sirius was cut off when Mrs. Weasley knocked on the door.

"Come on out you two, we are celebrating!" she called.

Buckbeak squawked at the door, annoyed on their behalf, before combing his beak through Harry’s hair.

"Coming, Molly!" Sirius called.

Harry sighed up at Buckbeak, “Happy.”

Buckbeak huffed at him.

"We need finish this conversation. But I wanted to ask you before we go down about how you’re feeling about being passed up as prefect? Are you disappointed? You haven't been talking much to your friends as much, is it because of this?"

"I am not upset about it, I don't want the responsibility. Especially, since I have to take Occlumency with Snape," Harry couldn't keep the distaste out of his voice. He never wanted another person in his mind, least of all with all the secrets he had now. Snape or Dumbledore knowing he was a Harry from the future was nothing but trouble.

"You seem so distant with them. You sent me a lot of letters this summer, did you exchange of them with them? I am sure Hermione would talk with you about school work for hours."

"It isn't them, Sirius, it's me. After the last task, after seeing Wormtail and Voldemort again it just sort of hit me. This life isn't a game, I could have died, and if Cedric was with me… it isn't a fairytale, some adventure, people could get hurt, permanently. I am having a hard time keeping my patience with Ron and even Hermione. She's brilliant but she also… she also assumes she knows everything or at least is cable of understanding everything and anything. She thinks you can learn it in a book, and that everyone has the same moral compass. But you can't, there are some things that you just can't understand. Right and wrong isn't so black and white."

Sirius looked at Harry as if he had never seen him before. "You're a wiser and a better man than I will ever be. Just promise you'll try to have fun this year, don't take life so seriously you forget to enjoy what you have."

Harry nodded, holding on a bit too tightly as Sirius pulled him in for a hug.

Not to be out done, Buckbeak wrapped a wing around them both, hugging them between his wing and feathered neck.

"Hey Sirius?" Harry asked pausing at the open door with the rattling cabinet that housed the bogat. "Can I borrow your wand?"

Sirius looked into the room, "You want to take care of the boget? Didn't I just tell you to have fun?"

"Ridiculous is fun," Harry said innocently.

Sirius rolled his eyes but stood back waving Harry forward, passing him his wand. Harry swished the wand that seemed to purr in his hand, not like it saw him as a master but like a cat momentarily approving of him. The cabinet unlocked and the boget emerged, shifted and it wasn't a Dementor that emerged, but his mother. She was beautiful, fiery hair, shining emerald eyes so similar to his own. She held out her hand, beckoning him forward and what she said sent a chill down to his very soul, "Harry, my son, this dream is ending."

Harry screamed a ridiculous at her, and she shattered into glass shards as if she had been a stained glass window, the shards whirled into a small vortex shrinking into a spot on the floor. The Resurrection Stone rested inertly on the ground and Harry understood what his fear was. He feared his parents wanted him dead, that Sirius wanted him dead, that Harry himself really was dead and this second chance was nothing more than a dream.

He raised Sirius's wand again and almost whispered, "Ridiculous." The stone turned into sand and faded into nothing, defeated.

It wasn’t funny, but it was a joke. A joke that was at Harry’s suspense.

Harry turned to give Sirius his wand back. Sirius and Snape were standing in the doorway. Snape was staring at the place where Lily had been standing.

"Harry! Sirius! Come down to eat!" Mrs. Weasley called.

Mrs. Black's portrait started shrieking.

Sirius took his wand back and went to go shut up his own mother, giving Harry a parting look though he didn't pry.

Sirius knew better than most that nightmares rarely took illogical shapes.

But there was someone else standing in the doorway who was far less sympathetic.

oOo

Severus couldn’t move, staring at the spot where Potter’s greatest fear had stood.

Finally he pulled his gaze away to focus on the boy, "You're afraid of Lily? You're own mother?"

"No," Potter answered. "I'm afraid that by dying for me, she died for nothing. Just one more sorrow in a lineage of pain and suffering."

Snape said nothing, could say nothing, only wonder at the boy who–as it would appear–he knew nothing about.

oOo

Harry stayed up late that night with Sirius. They avoided anymore emotionally depressing stories and Sirius stuck to stories about Transfiguration and detentions with James and McGonagall.

Sirius seemed better, more stable, than he had been last time around.

Harry would say he was surprised by the difference a few letters had helped, but they had helped Harry just as much.

Harry felt that he was able to convince Sirius to stay safe at Grimmauld Place. Even so, their group was almost late getting onto the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione and Ron went up front with the Prefects with the same apologies and appeasements. Harry watched them go with a feeling of profound relief. It was becoming quite aggravating to pretend he was normal around them, the rest of the year was going to be long. 

His friends weren’t stupid, they knew something had changed in him but, for now, they were letting it go when he evaded questions about how he was or when he did something out of character. 

Harry had resorted to keeping his mouth mostly shut around them and only speaking when he had to. Which was a bad sign in and of itself. Yet Ron and Hermione seemed to attribute his behaviour to his long summer at the Dursleys with only two and half weeks at Grimmauld Place with Sirius.

Harry was barely paying attention as he took Hedwig and his luggage and followed Ginny. 

Ginny who was now his ex-girlfriend. He still liked her, but seeing her younger, like she had been before the Department of Ministry, before her metal had been tested, he found he was more protective of her than felt anything romantic toward her.

He missed his Ginny.

He missed his Ron and Hermione.

People looked at him through windows and whispered to each other. Harry ignored them. They met Neville in the hall in front of Luna's compartment. Harry greeted Neville then took a seat beside Luna, not waiting for Ginny or Neville.

Luna wouldn't look at him like he was freak, or acting odd, or anything irritating that had his instincts honed by nearly of year of being hunted standing on end.

"Hi, Luna, can we sit with you?"

She looked up from her copy of the Quibbler, her wand behind her ear, and her eyes unblinking as she looked into him. The corner of her mouth turned up, "Hello, Harry."

"Thanks for letting us join you," said Ginny with a smile.

"How was your summer?" he asked her the blonde. Harry didn't know why exactly but it felt like Luna was the Luna from his time. Or maybe it was the fact that Harry knew for a fact that time travel wasn't something she would be overly surprised by or hold against him.

She put her magazine down and ran a hand over her long blonde curls. "Oh, it was good, quite lovely really.”

She didn’t say what had been lovely about it but Neville spoke before he could answer.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?"

"A plant?" Harry guessed and slipped out his wand. He was not getting slimed on this time around.

Neville grinned, holding up the pot proudly, "Mimbulus mimbletonia." Harry smiled, though he already had his wand at the ready, “It looks cool. What can it do?”

"It's really, really rare," said Neville, beaming. "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it. It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me.”

"Neville, I don't think that is a good idea," Harry started but he was too late.

Harry's shield charm saved Luna and himself, but Ginny and Neville…

"Sosorry," he gasped. "I haven't tried that before. . . . Didn't realise it would be quite so. . . Don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he added nervously, looking at Ginny who spat out a mouthful onto the floor.

At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open.

"Oh . . . hello, Harry," said a nervous voice. “Um . . . bad time?" It was Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

"Hi," said Harry. Cho was still pretty but Harry no longer had the slightest interest. He hadn't since dating Ginny.

"How's Cedric?" Harry asked.

"Don't know, we, um broke up," she said. "Well … just thought I'd say hello . . . 'bye then."

Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed.

Neville was still apologizing to glowering Ginny when Harry flicked his wand, "Scourgify!"

The Stinksap vanished.

"Sorry," said Neville again, in a small voice.

Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour, by which time the food trolley had already gone by.

"I'm starving," said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head and leaned back with his eyes closed as asked, "Guess who's a Slytherin prefect?"

"Draco," Harry said as he flipped through a copy of the Quibbler Luna had given him.

"Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll…"

Harry pointed to an article about Disney Paris, "I want to try that."

"What?" Ron asked.

Luna looked over and smiled, "It would be fun."

"Performing magic tricks at a muggle amusement park," Harry explained.

"That's illegal," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged, "Not if your not harming anyone or doing stuff that can't be accomplished without magic. Like levitation or sparks or making birds appear. It would be fun to do in front of children who believe and parents who don't and know that it really is real."

Ron looked at Harry, "You want to entertain muggle children?"

"For one afternoon it might be fun."

Luna nodded.

"I can't wait to catch Malfoy and his goons at something. I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. "I . . . must . . . not . . . look . . . like . . . a . . . baboon's . . . backside. "

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor.

Ron looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face as she continued to laugh.

"Baboon's . . . backside!" she choked, holding her ribs.

Harry grinned at her laughing.

"Anything good in there?" asked Ron as Harry closed the magazine.

"Of course not," Hermione said scathingly, before Harry could answer. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Hermione," Harry said sharply, "Mr. Lovegood is the Editor of the Quibbler."

Hermione’s cheeks darkened as she stumbled over an apology.

The compartment door opened, and Harry chose to do the same thing he had to Mr. Malfoy, "Hello Draco. How are you? I saw your father at the Ministry yesterday, he said you've already been studying for the OWL's have you gotten far with the History book yet? I swear the book is more use than Professor Bins."

Draco was floored by this greeting and by Harry's apparently sincere demeanor.

"He isn't the most interesting professor, is he?" Luna asked, "Pity, I thought it would have been fun to learn from a ghost."

"The Bloody Baron would be a good story teller I'd bet," Harry replied to her.

Draco stood frozen in the doorway and Harry had to bite his cheek at the mirror of Lucius's expression he was wearing, and like his father, training kicked in.

"I'm rather good at history. It is the DADA book that is giving me trouble. I don't know what we will learn in that class that might be useful for OWL's."

"I was thinking of starting a DADA club this year," Harry said causally. "So students can practice outside of class."

"Might be fun," Draco said, warily. "I need to go keep checking the train, me being a Prefect and all." He was starting to build up his steam again only to be thoroughly deflated by Harry's next remark.

"Yeah, congratulations, it's a big achievement. See you around."

oOo

Draco was at a complete loss. He could not detect the slightest bit of sarcasm from Potter's tone. He stepped back, shut the door, and walked away with Crabbe and Goyle at his heels.

He felt as if he had just entered an alternate universe where Potter hadn’t rebuffed his offer of friendship.

oOo

Ron, Hermione, and Neville gaped at him.

"I think the Bloody Baron might be too descriptive and then we wouldn't have time to learn all the facts," Luna said, continuing the conversation.

"At least I wouldn't be tempted to doze off in class," Harry quipped.

"I like sketching in his class while I listen. I just take the notes from the book," she said, her large blue eyes staring at him unblinkingly.

"Smart," Harry said.

"Harry?" Ron questioned outraged, "What the bloody hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"You were nice to Malfoy ."

"Yeah, and he left us alone," Harry rebuked.

Hermione was frowning at him, "Did you mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"About a DADA club?"

Harry shrugged, "It seems like fun and as long as we don't have someone like Lockhart running it might be helpful."

They all rode in silence after that. Harry took Hedwig out of her cage and petted her as he watched the world speed by outside the train window.

Hedwig hopped onto his lap so Luna could pet her too.

When they reached the carraiges Harry rested Hedwig's cage on his trunk so he could pet the nearest thestral.

They were supremely soft, their leathery-looking skin was covered with the finest fuz of black fur. looked into the thestrals white eye and smiled. He wondered if dying gave him a closer bound to these animals because the great head rubbed into Harry's touch and made a pleased clicking noise in its throat.

"Harry," Hermione started, "What are you petting?"

"Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up,” Ron erged.

"Seriously, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Just petting the carriage horse?" Harry answered.

Ron looked seriously alarmed now.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?"

Harry lingered, part of him overjoyed to be back at Hogwarts, as other part of him dreaded the beginning of this year.

"Shall we get in, then?" Ron asked, greatly concerned.

Luna came to stand with Harry, "I can see them, too."

"They're nicer than you think they would be," Harry remarked, giving the thestral a soft pat on the shoulder.

"You're nicer than I thought you would be," she said. 

Harry looked at her but she only smiled faint before climbing into the carriage.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, lamias, or things you wanted to see added to future chapters?

Chapter Text

KEYnote: There are direct quotes and altered quotes from the book.

Extended Version: I'm still dyslexic folks and life is being a bit shitty right now and I'm not using a beta for this because I do want it out eventually.

French Version: The lovely Eohwel translated Plus Facile Que de S'endormir and presumably edited this story, I highly recommend it. If anyone wants to translate my work into another language, please contact me so I can share it and remember to link me in the summary :D

Chapter 5 - Trouble On Purpose

They received their timetables at breakfast, Harry glanced at his before slipping it into his bag. Monday was Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Arithmancy, in place of Divinations. Harry hadn't told either Ron or Hermione that he had switched classes, he expected a fight and he just didn't want to explain himself.

Keeping things from them was far easier than lying to them outright.

“That's the worst scheduled day ever,” Ron groaned.

Harry sighed.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He looked up at the head table, Umbridge was watching all the students like a frog gaging the distance of a fly it intended to eat. "Just another miss for DADA."

"You don't think we will learn anything from her?" Hermione asked, almost glaring up at the pink toad.

"Hermione," Harry said, "you've read that book. That bit about counter curses. It would be better to just to skip her class."

"You can't skip class, Harry," she said instantly. Then she paused, giving him a strange look.

Ron was the one to ask, gaze narrowed, " You read the book?"

"I skimmed it enough to know it less informative than the Lockhart books, and at least those were entertaining and based on real events, sans Lockhart himself."

"It isn't the best of books, but it has some substance," Hermione defended, as she would likely defend any published book.

Harry suddenly didn't feel like eating. Only habit forced him to finish what little was left on his plate and got up to leave.

oOo

"Does Harry– does Harry seem off to you?" Ron asked Hermione whose eyes, along with many, many others watched the raven haired boy leave.

Hermione nodded, "He was different after the last task and at Grimmauld Place but the changes were not that noticeable until–"

"Until he started being polite to Malfoy,” Ron interjected bitterly.

"Maybe, it's a good thing, Ron,” she placated.

"Or maybe there's something wrong with him."

Hermione frowned at her plate, her mind trying to put a reason to the million little things that were different about their best friend.

Maybe something more has happened at the graveyard that he hadn't told them about.

oOo

Harry sat in the common room reading a Potions Theory book which he was starting to realize was more like baking than anything else. You had a lot more freedom when you were cooking meals, but if you were making a cake and you left out baking soda, the whole thing was ruined. It was with this mindset that Harry read the tips on the proper ways to handle plants and adding certain liquids to potions.

He would force Snape to give him an outstanding even if it took destroying reality to get it.

Harry took off his shoes and curled up in the armchair, leaning towards the fire. His body felt cold, he always felt cold nowadays. Even in the heavy heat of summer. He didn't know why but he couldn't get warm as if his bones were in a cooler.

He noticed in a dim sort of way that people were coming into the room. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Fred touched his shoulder.

"Harry?" Fred asked.

"You alright?" George asked.

"Yeah, you startled me is all," Harry said, closing his book, as he was just rereading it at this point anyway.

"What are you reading?" George asked.

Harry showed them the cover.

Fred laughed, "You trying to get a leg up in potions?"

"I think I want to be good at this subject just so I can spite the old bat."

George grinned, "We have a few books we can lend you that helped us."

"That would be awesome, this book is just tips on how to handle different materials."

The twins looked down at the book in unison.

"Is it any good?" they asked.

Harry nodded and handed it to them, "You can borrow it if you like, I have already finished it. I was just looking over a couple of the more detailed descriptions."

"Thanks, Harry," George said.

"You're a great friend," Fred said.

"What did you do, Harry?" Ron asked, coming up behind them.

"So suspicious, ickle-prefect," Fred said, turning on his younger brother.

"With that tone, it makes it sound like you think we are up to something," George added with a sly smile.

"You two are always up to something," Hermione pointed out.

Harry stood, stretched, and headed up to bed while Ron and Hermione were still bickering with the twins.

oOo

Harry's dreams were strange. 

He stood in front of the mirror of Erised, staring at his scar.

It burst open, blood poored down one side of his face. It didn't hurt as the dark blood masked over half his face nor when it got into his one eye. However, that green eye turned to red.

Both his eyes gleamed unnaturally in the darkened space, glowing from the mirror.

One eye like Voldemort's and the other shining emerald like his boggart mother's.

oOo

Harry lurched out of bed, panting slightly though he luckily didn't wake anyone. He got dressed and went down to breakfast early, slipping out with the quietness living with Dursleys had beaten into him. 

The hall was mostly empty as it was barely six a.m. but among the students at breakfast, Draco Malfoy was one of them sitting alone at the Slytherin table.

Harry thought of the Sorting Hat's warning and remembered how staying divided literally brought down the school.

Screw it, Harry thought, it's not like he is a Death Eater yet. That was next year. Besides, Draco had protected him against the snatchers.

Harry made a beeline for the white haired Slytherin. He sat down at the table and waited for Draco to look up at him.

He did, and his pale eyes widened at Harry Potter's appearance.

"Good morning," Harry said, cheerfully.

"Good mor-" Draco had to stop himself, it looked as though he had to bite his tongue. "Did you get hit in the head or something? This is the Slytherin table."

Harry grinned, "I almost sorted into Slytherin, you know.”

Draco gaped at him as if the world had fallen down around his ears. He spluttered, “What!?”

Harry smiled, “I begged the Sorting Hat not to put me in the same house as you and the man who murdered my parents."

oOo

Draco blinked, at a loss on how to handle this more amenable Potter. 

Draco figured it was some type of ploy to get at him so he asked, "What do you want?"

"What do you think about a DADA club? You said so yourself that the book was useless."

Draco felt like he was in an alternate universe, "My father said–"

"Your father doesn't work for the Ministry, and news flash Draco, but the Ministry doesn't want us learning magic that can be used against them."

Draco frowned, “You want to start a club and get a professor to teach an extra class?"

He remembered Lockhart's club and how ‘well’ that had gone.

"No, I'll teach it. I have a feeling Umbridge isn't going to let us use magic in class," Harry said.

"And I feel like you are mental and Umbridge isn't going to like you teaching her subject outside of class," Draco shot back.

"Then we do it in secret," Harry supplied. "I know a place."

"And you think you can teach me anything, that your bette–"

"I am the best student in the school for DADA. It is my subject, you, on the other hand, are the dumb-arse who taunted a hippogryph after Hagrid told you they were proud creatures who never forgive insults."

Draco flushed and glared, "Get lost, Potter."

Harry shrugged, "We have DADA today, let me know when you decide you want to pass your OWL's."

Draco fisted his hands and looked around the room. There was no one at the Slytherin table, but the smattering of students at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables had all been watching.

At the head table, only professors McGonagall and Flitwick were there to witness the oddity of Potter.

In all honesty, Draco would have loved to have been friends with Potter. His friends only hung out with him because their fathers had commanded them to when they were little.

oOo

Harry went back to the Gryffindor table, finished a piece of toast and an apple for heading down to the dungeons. He had some extra time to read the twin's potions book they had lent him before heading down to the dungeons.

Their first potions classes ended with Harry and Draco getting their potions close to perfect. Hermione's potion was probably a distant third in the class.

Harry smirked as Snape frowned down at his as described simmering potion.

oOo

Severus looked between Granger's potion and Potter's, Potter's was the better of the two. Which was impossible, Potter was hopeless in this subject unless Granger was cheating for him, however, Granger was far too vain to let Potter achieve a better grade than her. Weasley wasn't of any help, his potion was toxic. No, the only student in the class who could have achieved this was Draco, who Severus sometimes tutored in the summers. Draco and Potter would never work together, meaning Potter had somehow gotten better at potions.

Snape turned his wrath on Weasley.

Mocking Potter’s abysmal potions skills was typically the highlight of his day.

oOo

"What was that?" Ron asked, spitting mad. Sure, Snape had picked on him before, but he had never been the professor's primary focus, that was either Harry or Neville.

"I am not going to fail his class," Harry said.

"Your potion was better than Hermione's," Ron said.

Hermione's mouth tightened, "I have to get to Ancient Runes."

Harry sighed.

"You knew she would react like that," Ron accused. "I just don't understand how you could have done better than her in the first place."

"I studied over the summer."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Because what else was I supposed to do locked up at the Dursleys, Ron? In case you're not aware you and Hermione are my only friends. How many letters did we exchange? How much did you hear from me? Did you ever stop to think what it's like to have no one to talk to other than an old lady across the street who only talks about her cats? The most human interaction I get is my Aunt and Uncle ordering me to do chores and make them food. So, yeah I read books and did my summer homework. Sorry to disappoint you," Harry snapped.

Ron flinched.

Then asked as Harry began to turn down a different corridor, "Where are you going?" 

"Arithmancy, and don't worry about telling Trelawny, she must have seen it coming."

Ron stopped and watched his best friend walk alone down the hall into the mass of other students. Harry had changed and Ron wasn't sure he liked the new Harry.

oOo

Arithmancy held in a bright large windowed room. The tables were low and square and there were four pillows at each.

Harry smiled when he saw Luna who had spotted him the second he walked into the room.

"Harry," she greeted.

"Harry?" Susan asked, whipping her head around. "Hi, Harry!" she cheered.

"Hi Susan, hi Luna," Harry said, taking his seat between them.

"Thank Merlin, I am not the only one from our year who switched electives. Of course, I switched last year so I had to do the first class," Susan said.

"I covered the first years work over the summer, Flitwick graded the homework and Professor Vector sent me the tests. I got the okay to only go back the one year," Harry said.

"I got to move forward a year," the Slytherin girl with golden-blonde hair said across from Harry.

"Harry," Susan began, "this is Astoria Greengrass. Astoria this is-"

"Harry Potter, I'm aware," she said coolly.

Harry smiled, "You and your sister sound alike."

She glared at him, "How would you know? you hate Slytherins."

"No, I dislike Draco and his two shadows, and sometimes Pansy and Millicent. Your sister is nice though," Harry said.

"My sister isn't nice. She's awesome but she isn't nice."

"Well by nice, I mean she isn't loud and annoying," Harry corrected himself.

"Because that isn't the exact definition of a Gryffindor?" she shot back. "You are the attention hogging Boy Who Lived."

"Hey, I never asked to be famous for surviving my parents getting murdered, I would gladly trade my fame for my mother's life," Harry snapped.

"Like you can even remember her," Astoria said, not letting go of her advantage.

"I remember her screaming for my life and what it looked like when Voldemort hit her with the killing curse. Trauma sticks with you."

Astoria looked away, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry," she muttered.

"My parents were killed by him too," Susan said softly.

They were all spared further discussion on the topic of dead parents as Professor Vector took control of the class.

She was a stern witch and though her class seemed to be a numerical way of predicting the future, her class began to go into wards, in numerical architecture that aligned with the stars, like tombs in Egypt or mosques in the Near East. With Arithmancy, numbers and patterns had power.

Hermione was right about it being a far better class than Divinations. The groups of four worked together on a circular diagram on their table. Between the four of them, they did really well.

Professor Vector gave Harry an approving nod, "You'll catch up quickly with this group and your presence evens out the class so now every table has four. Splendid."

As they were leaving class Luna said to him softly, "On the train, your shield charm…"

"It was instinct," Harry said.

"You cast it without speaking a spell," she said.

Harry missed a step.

She smiled at him, "I don't think the others noticed."

They parted ways when they got to the great hall for lunch.

oOo

"You dropped Divinations?" Hermione asked as soon as he sat down.

"Didn't Ron tell?" Harry asked, pulling a few slices of apple onto his plate.

"Yeah, he said you've been studying all summer," she said.

"I didn't think you would have a problem with that," Harry said without looking at her.

"You hate studying."

Harry looked up at her then, "Like I told Ron, I hate living with the Dursleys and I had nothing better to do with my time."

She opened her mouth to protest.

He cut her off, "Hermione, give it a rest. Can't you just be happy or proud or something other than upset I didn't tell you every aspect of my life."

She nearly bit off her tongue, "That's not fair."

"And it's not fair for you to be mad that I did better than you on one potions assignment either."

None of the three of them talked to each other through the rest of lunch.

oOo

Harry settled in to do his his Arithmancy homework having transfigured the textbook to look like the DADA book.

Like last time Hermione raised her hand.

" Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no.”

"Well, we're reading just now," Professor Umbridge said with a sanguine smile. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione forged onwards.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger.”

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," Professor Umbridge said her voice  falsely sweet.

"Well, I don't,"  Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Harry hid a smile as everyone except him looked up to the black board.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

Because that had never happened before, mused Harry silently as he thought of Lockhart's pixies.

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. -?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Hermione immediately raised her hand too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" Professor Umbridge asked with condescension.

"No, but-"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"Because Hogwarts is known for being risk free?" Harry snorted, he couldn't help himself. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a–"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free."

"I repeat," Professor Umbridge said forcefully though kept her smile plastered on. "Do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"Yes,” Harry said, garnering a number of laughs from his classmates.

Professor Umbridge scowled at him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her mouth wider, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention.” She gave a nasty little laugh, "Extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Dean angrily, "he was the best we ever-"

"Hand, Mr. Thomas! As I was saying you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"

"No we haven't," Hermione said, "we just-"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put up her hand. Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you."

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads."

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" trilled Professor Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them beforehand?" said Parvati incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

Draco caught Harry's gaze from across the room.

He looked torn.

Harry was the only hope anyone here had of passing their tests if they weren't already great at the subject.

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough--" Professor Umbridge looked up and met Harry's gaze. He still loathed this woman, Lucius Malfoy was the height of morality compared to her. "There will be no need to try the spells before the test, the theory will suffice."

Harry had bite his cheek but he was able to keep his temper. Umbridge had made Harry's life a living hell once and he fully intended to repay the favour. Regrettably, he  would not be able to accomplish that here and now, but her time would come.

Eventually, the class settled down, resigned to reading listlessly from the book.

Draco came up to Harry after class as he was walking out with Ron and Hermione.

Draco said two words before disappearing back into the crowd, "I'm in."

"I know I keep asking this, but what was that?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned, "Trouble."

And this time, he would be causing the trouble on purpose.

If the professors thought he was mischief making before, they would be in for a rude awakening.

oOo

AN: Thoughts or songbirds?

Chapter Text

KEYNOTE: Ancient Runes is just reading an ancient wizard language according to Pottermore though it is in symbols 'Runes' as JKR uses them are just words like ancient Egyptian, the symbols have no power themselves. JKR's Arithmancy is numerology that can predict the future. For my purposes, Arithmancy + Astrology can show the past and future in universal patterns while Arithmancy + Charms can make wards by the structure of patterns. 

(The best examples I can give you are Islamic Mosque ceilings such as Nasir Al-Mulk Mosque, Shiraz, Iran or Shah Mosque, Isfahan, Iran which I strongly suggest you look up because they are beautiful.)

Students will trace out the mathematical structures and then by using charms to activate them will create wards. Math as beauty :D

Chapter 6 - Even the Slytherins

"Come on, Hermione, it is a great idea," Harry implored. 

It was your brilliant idea, he thought.

"Alright but if we get in trouble…"

"Hermione," Harry moaned, "this is worth the trouble. Besides I am not doing this for myself, I already know everything I can teach."

The prospect of Harry knowing more than her hit a sore spot that Harry had been digging at in basically every class excluding History of Magic. Harry thought it kinda funny that as a would-be seventh year, he was barely keeping even with Hermione. Yet he was a little sad that she was upset with him, or not so much upset, as hurt. Being the best at nearly everything, especially compared to Ron and Harry, had become her identity.

It was depressing because he knew she was so much more than that.

"We will have to find a way to communicate the time and date in secret. I did look up club rules at Hogwarts and there is nothing against this but if Umbridge gets a whiff of it-"

"She will shut us down," Harry said.

Ron had been pretty quiet for the week and had yet to speak through this conversation, arms crossed and moping. But he couldn't help but mutter then, "I can't believe you invited Malfoy.”

Harry sighed and looked out the window, the sun was peeking out from the clouds. 

"Ron, are you planning to try out for Keeper now that Wood graduated?" Harry asked, switching topics.

Ron’s cheeks immediately tinged pink and he looked extremely self-conscious as he asked, "Maybe, I mean do you think it is a good idea? I thought- you know, with the new broom I got- I just thought-"

"Do you want to go practice?" Harry asked.

Ron perked up then, "Yeah that would be great!" All ills between them were momentarily forgotten, Ron dashed up the steps to get their brooms.

Harry turned to Hermione, "We also need to ensure a way that there are no snitches."

Hermione nodded. "Where are we going to meet?"

He wondered if the Slytherins would sign it. To him it didn’t really matter, if the Slytherins weren’t with them on this, it was going to fail anyway.

"I know a place in the castle but I think we ought to meet in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for the first meeting."

Hermione nodded again, "I'll get the word out. Harry, Ron has a point about the Slytherins, we can't trust them."

Harry stood and gave her a weak smile, "Hermione, what reason have we given them to be worthy of their trust? It goes both ways, you know. You can't be respected if you never show respect."

She arched a brow, “Have you forgotten what they’ve said about me? About you?”

“We aren’t going to change their minds by making ourselves their enemies. I’m not saying we let them hurt us, but we can avoid giving them for an OWLs study group.”

"And if being the bigger person gets you expelled, then what?"

"Then you and Ron can say I told you so when I am packing up my stuff." 

Doing the right thing, for the greater good, had gotten him killed and sent back in time, what was a little expulsion compared to that?

Ron came stomping down the stairs at a run, "Harry, I brought your Firebolt, let's go!"

With one last meaningful look to Hermione to confirm he was serious about this, Harry took his broom and followed Ron down to the Quidditch pitch.

oOo

There was no more talk about the DADA club as they pelted the quaffle at Ron. Harry remembered how bad Ron's practice had gone and did not hold back to give him a better chance at being comfortable.

At first, Ron seemed disheartened as Harry scored goal after goal, but then Ron blocked a few, then a few more, and that seemed to boost his confidence even higher. They ended the night on a good note with Ron saving three goals in a row.

As they walked back to the castle, the light of dusk seeping behind the mountains rapidly, Ron asked, "Do you think I have a chance at being Keeper?"

"I do, but-"

"But what?" Ron asked nervously.

"But you have to keep your cool. Once you missed one you got so upset you would miss another three right after it," Harry explained. "You have to get a thicker skin, even Wood missed sometimes."

Ron's ears had turned bright red but he nodded, "Yeah, alright."

"We can keep practising until tryouts," Harry consoled.

Ron gave him a small smile. They had been distant lately but they could always count on Quidditch to bring them back together. 

They chatted about the subject, past games, what a loon Wood was as a captain, and about their new captain who Harry tried not to give future information about.

In the common room, Harry saw Ginny and got an idea.

"Hey, Ginny!" Harry called, dragging Ron to her.

Ginny looked up from the book she had been reading with a bemused expression. She was seated by the fire, the firelight making her hair glow. "Hi Harry, Ron, what's up?"

"Ron is trying out for Keeper this year and since you want to be a Chaser I thought it might be fun to practice together," Harry said grinning.

Both Ron and Ginny gaped at him.

"But-how- how did-" Ginny stuttered. "How did you know I wanted to be a chaser?"

Harry didn't realize his mistake until Ron said with a laugh, "Ginny doesn't play Quidditch, Harry, whatever gave you that crazy idea."

Harry saw Ginny's expression and took two quick steps back, holding up his hands, "I thought all the Weasleys but Percy played."

"Well, Ginny doesn't," Ron chuckled.

"Don't talk for me," Ginny snapped.

"Well, you don't," he said.

"Well, yes, I do," she said, standing and throwing her book on the seat behind her. She put her hands on her hips. "I've been going out at night to the shed for years, especially when all of you were at school."

Fred and George had heard most of the conversation and had sidled up to them.

"We should have known, Fred," George said.

Fred nodded sagely, "Indeed, George, oh little sister-"

"-was never-"

"-the angel."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked.

"Because you never included me," Ginny shot back.

"Why tell Harry?" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"I didn't!" she exclaimed.

"So how did you-"

"Know?" the twins asked.

"I guessed?" Harry covered awkwardly, fighting hard to make it sound like a statement and failing.

"But you said she was trying out for Chaser-"

Harry cut him off, "Chaser and Keeper are the only two options on the team currently. Sorry for starting a family feud or whatever, but I am going to bed." He turned to go up the steps.

Ginny caught his hand, "Thanks, Harry, for including me."

For a moment Harry just stared into her warm eyes, he remembered being in love with her, remembered kissing her and his heart as he re-realized that she remembered none of that. 

That hurt. 

Cho had been his first crush but Ginny had been his first… and she didn't even remember. He wasn't her ex-boyfriend, he was her never-boyfriend.

He pulled his hand gently from hers, his cheeks a bit flushed, "Anytime, Ginny." He turned and all but ran up the steps. He collapsed on his bed, the weight of all the secrets he was keeping crushing him down.

oOo

"Oooooooohhhh," Moaning Myrtle crooned as her bathroom filled with students on a cloudy Sunday morning.

Everyone from the first DA club was there along with the entire fourth and fifth year Slytherin students, with the addition of Astoria and the exclusion of Crabbe and Goyle. The Gryffindors seemed upset but neither the Hufflepuffs nor the Ravenclaws seemed that bothered, though Harry caught a few of them rolling their eyes at the posturing around the room. Unbeknownst to Ron and Hermione, Harry had cast a muffliato on the door so no one outside could hear. He wasn't ignorant of the paintings they all passed to get here but the paintings didn't work for Umbridge.

"Alright," Harry began, everyone fell quiet. "I think we are all here. For the fifth and seventh years, you are here to pass your exams, for everyone else, I'll assume you are here to learn to defend yourselves. We are going to begin with simple spells for the first few club meetings, and then work our way up to more complicated spells. As everyone likely has a mixed level of skills, considering both our ages and our teachers over the years."

Zacharias Smith was a poop again.

Oddly, it was Draco who silenced him, "Oh would you shut up, no one forced you to be here."

Smith crossed his arms, "Who forced you to come?"

"We were invited," Astoria chirped.

"As if Potter would invite the Slytherins to anything. He hates you all," Smith said disdainfully.

"I don't hate them," Harry said through gritted teeth. "And I did, in fact, invite them."

"Against his better judgment," Ron said under his breath.

Harry shoved him, nearly pushing him into the sink.

Harry turned back to the crowd, "Everyone deserves to learn self defense even the Slytherins."

"But why?" Smith asked.

"Because I was almost sorted into Slytherin and I would hate to be treated the way people treat them," he said.

The room was dead silent for all of ten seconds before Cho's friend said, "You have a change of heart and we all have to go along with it, is that what this is? Why are they really here?"

Harry frowned, "I thought it was only Slytherins and Gryffindors that distrusted each other to extremes."

Pansy laughed, "We get along better with the other houses but we don't really fit in with the rest. Which, I suppose would make sense for why you are secretly one of us, considering you're the most popular person in the school with only two friends."

“He has more than two friends,” Fred interjected.

Smith spoke again, "So why be here then? We all thought you hated Potter."

"We are here because it is important," Daphne Greengrass said, voice glacial. "Everyone knows he's the best at DADA. The Dark Lord, Basilisks, Dementors, dragons, merpeople, and whatever in the world he faced in the last task that caused him to walk around like he was half dead. I want to pass my exams and I am not going to die because I didn't learn the basics in school."

"She's right," Luna said. "Harry's wiser than he looks. He can teach us loads."

Millicent raised her hand.

"Millicent Bulstrode," Harry acknowledged while calling on her, noting that she had grown into her androgynous features since he last paid her any attention at some point in the second year.

"Millie," she corrected, "And where was the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry pointed toward the sink Ron was sitting next to. "The faucet with the snake on it. You just say open in parseltongue and the whole thing turns into a slide that drops you into the pipes. I considered having the meeting down there, however, with the tunnel caved in there it's no longer safe. Besides there are a ton of rat bones. And because I know everyone is curious, beyond the cave in, there is another door, also opened by parseltongue, then a bunch of statues of Salazar and a huge dead rotting snake. Really unpleasant smell," Harry concluded.

They all stared at him.

"You should have been in Slytherin," Pansy said, eyeing Harry appraisingly.

He shrugged, "I killed the Basilisk with Godric's sword."

"Slytherin's monster comes out through the girl's bathroom?" Theodore Nott asked, a hint of disgust in his voice.

"That's how I died!" Moaning Myrtle gushed, swirling in the air above their heads.

“Speaking of outrageous things you've done,” Blaise Zabini began. “Can you explain why you've ended up in the hospital wing every year?”

Harry sighed, it was natural for them to be curious, besides, it wasn't like he had to tell them about the Department of Mysteries or robbing Gringotts while impersonating a Death Eater.

“I don't think I can remember every time, but starting in the first year, Hermione and I snuck a baby dragon off the astrology tower to Charlie Weasley who works at a dragon reserve. Draco caught us and landed us all in detention. Hagrid took the three of us into the Forbidden Forest to discover what was killing unicorns to drink their blood.”

Several gasps.

“Where Draco and I ran into Voldemort's shade drinking unicorn blood. Honestly, that would have been the ideal place to kill me but Voldemort is incompetent when it comes to me. Almost as incompetent as Quirrel.”

“What does Quirrel have to do with any of this?” Daphne asked.

Harry went on, “And– oh, I forgot about the troll. Ron took it out with a Wingardium Leviosa and club above it's head saving Hermione and I from becoming gelatine.. but we were suspicious about the troll all year and the door Dumbledore told us not to open. When we figured out it was the philosophy stone they were hiding, we decided the madman drinking unicorn blood would also want the stone. The professors didn't listen to us and Dumbledore was out so the three of us decided to go for the stone ourselves.”

“That's incredibly stupid,” someone said and Harry merely nodded as he rattled on.

“Looking back I'm pretty sure it was either a trap designed to stall anyone getting in or a test that Dumbledore set up for the three of us.”

“Why would he do that?” Draco asked.

“Albus Dumbledore thinks it's my destiny to defeat the Dark Lord.”

“You're a kid,” George pointed out.

Harry shrugged, “Tell that to the stupid prophecy that got both my parents and Neville's targeted because we had the unparalleled honour of being born in the last month of summer. Now, where was I, oh yes, Ron nearly died, there was only enough potion to get me through walking through fire, to the last test where I met Professor Quirrel.”

“Seriously?” Theodore asked.

“He had Voldemort on the back of his head and because I got the stone in my hand and Quirrell was a particularly dim person, he tried to wrestle it away from me, instead, I don’t know, stunning me or cursing me. Which is when the three of us discovered that my mother's blood ward protects me from Voldemort, mostly. My skin burned his skin and I held onto Quirrel’s face until the professor died and Voldemort's shade escaped to find somewhere else to hide.”

Dead silence.

Harry repressed a smile, “So my first year ended with me in the hospital wing and no one caring I murdered a professor. Second year was more dramatic because the basilisk was potentially a bigger problem. Everyone called me insane for hearing voices in the walls, or as Hermione later learned, the pipes. Another shade possessed Ginny, Hagrid told Ron and I to ask the man eater spiders in the Forbidden Forest to help, which the sort of did before deciding they wanted to eat us instead, and thanks to an animated car we survived, yeah.”

Ron shuddered.

“What about the bludger?” Alicia asked. “And what about the time you almost fell off your broom the first year?”

“First year was Quirrell failing to murder a first year, second year was Dobby, Malfoy’s house elf trying to convince me to leave Hogwarts and not get eaten by a basilisk. Which, of course, became my soul focus. You all know who got prettified, Ginny got kidnapped, Ron and I abducted Lockhart to help us save Ginny at wand point. We had him go down the sink-slide first which was only useful thing he did. Lockhart used Ron's wand to oblivate us and possibly leave us for dead. Which is what he did to all the adventurers he self-inserted into his books by the way.”

“Wait! He was a serial killer!?” Tracy Davis asked.

Hermione flushed when Harry looked to her.

She shrugged, “He didn't kill people but he maybe, I guess, sort of lobotomized people, like he did to himself with Ron's broken wand, but presumably not as badly because he would have gotten caught.”

Harry opened his hands in a gesture of take it or leave it, “Anyway, met junior Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle ghost, ambitious half-blood with delusions of grandeur who presumably killed more than just Myrtle before he turned seventeen. That shade I managed to kill–”

“How many shades does he have?” Ginny asked.

“Not as many anymore,” Harry said with a smile. “I got that one at least. Third year my godfather was hunting Ron’s rat who was actually an animagus form of Peter Pettigrew the secret keeper for my parents and the rat bastard who stole their wands the night Voldemort attacked us. We should have let Hermione's cat eat him but instead I got freakishly good at using a Patronus Charm, and Hermione and I illegally helped my godfather Sirius Black and one of Hagrid’s hippogriff’s escape false justice.”

Luna clapped.

Harry bowed.

“Fourth year,” he went on. “Barty Crouch Jr. who was using polyjuice and his general madness to masquerade as Professor Moody, put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Afterwards, I got a wee-bit toasted by a Horntail that broke its chains, nearly drowned in the lake because I wouldn't put it past this school to ‘accidentally’ drown the tributes, and then the fun final task where Barty crucioed Fleur Delacour by imperioing Viktor Krum to ensure I got to the cup first. I told Cedric the cup was a trap, he didn't believe me so I proved it by springing the trap and Pettigrew had me at wand point with a demented baby-shade of Voldemort. Luckily for me, Voldemort was in no shape to duel and Pettigrew isn't that scary of an opponent and he ran away. Thus the tale how my friends and I mostly survived the last four years.”

Silence.

They all stared at him.

Clearly they had questions, but it seemed to be sinking in that while they were all complaining about his fame and the drama that had surrounded him, he'd also been flirting with death since the moment he stepped foot back into the wizarding world.

Hermione cleared her throat, “So, unless anyone has any further protests about Harry’s experience to teach practical Defense Against the Dark Arts, I'll need you to sign here if you would like to attend club meetings so we know how many people to prepare for.”

The meeting ended after that. Harry told them to meet him on the seventh floor and Hermione ensured everyone signed their names on the list.

By some miracle, no one but Myrtle overheard them.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, tufted-titmouses, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: Adding to this is pretty fun as it’s giving me ideas for The Delicate Art of Raising Thestrals.

Chapter 7 - Nonverbal

"Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we've got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we're getting now are a sort of baseline, aren't they? Something we can build on,” Hermione was saying.

They sat down together at the Gryffindor table.

"Obviously, I'd have been thrilled if I'd got an 'O'-"

"Hermione," said Ron sharply, "if you want to know what grades we got, ask."

"I don't-I didn't mean-well, if you want to tell me-"

"I got a 'P'," said Ron, ladling soup into his bowl. "Happy?"

"What did you get, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"You don't want to know," Harry said, though he was just barely done it. He was still holding the essay in his hands. He didn't dare look up to the head table, he would not have been able to swallow his smugness.

"Oh it can't be worse than, Ron's," George said.

Fred came around him and snatched Harry's essay out from under the table. He whistled.

"What is it?" Ron asked, "No way he got a T. Harry's been doing so much better in Potions."

"Better?" Fred chocked.

George laughed.

"What does T stand for?" Hermione asked.

"Troll," Ron said.

"Oh come on, just show us, it can't be a T. Harry really has been doing well in potions," she said positively.

Fred laughed then, tipping down the parchment so all could see, the small, spindly, tiny 'O' in red ink.

"I'd say Potter's doing a far shot higher than 'well'," Fred said.

"I don't think I've seen anyone outside of a Slytherin or Ravenclaw get an 'O' on anything in his class," George said.

Hermione's face was pained when she said, "Good job, Harry, really, you did great."

" How?" Ron asked.

"What did you think I was doing all weekend?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, all the other homework we had?" Ron suggested.

"I finished that with Hermione when you were out practising Quidditch with Ginny."

"Who are you and what have you done with my Potter?" he asked only half joking.

"I think he died," Harry said in a joking tone, though he wasn't joking at all.

oOo

Something was wrong with Severus's classes. Vastly wrong with his classes. It started with his fifth year class. Potter's abnormally superior brewing skills had continued as they had in the last two weeks, proving to be more than just a fluke. But that wasn't the wrongness that infiltrated his class. 

His class had grown… quiet, dare he even think it, in a peaceful way. Tensions between the Slytherins and Gryffindors were at an all time low. Experimentally, Severus decided to hold back on his critics unless someone (Longbottom) was about to put something explosive into their cauldrons. It had become, somehow, one of the most productful, easiest classes to teach.

The same trend followed throughout the week in his fourth and seventh years classes as well. The first years to third years as well as the sixth years were still abhorrent amongst the Gryffindors and Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs still cowered and the Ravenclaws were their usual selves, split between studious or twittering.

His favourite student, Ms. Lovegood, remained the only fixed point, her skills as remarkably precise as ever.

Severus wasn't the only one to notice the change. The other Heads of House were beginning to whisper. 

It wasn't so much that the Gryffindors and the Slytherins were getting along as they seemed to have called a truce. The younger years seemed to be taking their lead. The problem all the professors seemed to share was that it felt less like a resolution and more like the calm before the storm.

oOo

Filius called Harry to stay after class on Thursday.

"How have you been, Harry?" he asked.

Harry sat on the table next to Filius's podium. "I've been fine though I feel like I keep making little slips all over the place."

"Like what?"

"Well, I used wandless magic on the train and I let on that I know Ginny is a Chaser, which none of her brothers, not even Ron knew," Harry said, kicking his legs in the air.

"So you still haven't told your friends," Filius stated.

Harry shrugged, "Even if I told them what would it really change? They wouldn't spontaneously be the Ron and Hermione from my future. Oh hey, Ron, you should know that you deserted us when we went camping, and oh, Hermione, you were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Also, we robbed Gringotts and rode on a blind dragon together. It was awesome. Then we went back to Hogwarts where we barely survived slaughter."

Filius listened, letting Harry voice the poison festering in his veins. The boy may be eighteen in reality, but he was still so young for the trauma he had witnessed and endured.

"I don't know what I am doing," Harry said finally.

"Did you know the first time?" Filius asked.

Harry laughed and smiling, he admitted, "No, in fact, I think I was even angier last time. I treated my friends like crap." His smile faded, "Guess things haven't changed all that much."

Filius thought he was being too hard on himself, regrettably, what he knew of Harry, told him it wouldn’t do much good to say so. "Speaking of change, you wouldn't happen to be involved in the new… peace, shall we say, between Gryffindor and Slytherin houses would you?"

Harry grinned, "I may have started a club."

Filius repressed a smile, "What kind of club?"

"A DADA club where we use magic. I did it the last time too. Except without the Slytherins. I figured this time I would be more inclusive."

"Good," Filius said, "Whatever faults the Slytherins may have, keeping secrets is typically one of their talents if you treat them fairly."

"Ron and Hermione say we shouldn't trust their sense of honour."

Filius shrugged, "If you never give them a chance than you will never know."

"That's what I told them. Besides, it fell apart last time anyway because they figured us out."

"Harry, may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"I still think you should open up a bit more to Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley, however, you should not limit yourself to just two friends. You may find that there are others in this school who are as welcoming of your company, and perhaps, more mature that may help you feel more connected to this timeline," Filius advised.

Harry thought about opening up to Draco and scrunched his nose.

Filius laughed, "I am not suggesting you go around at random and share your circumstances but there are those you can spend time with who might not make you feel so alienated. It seems to me, you’re having difficulties keeping back things that they already ‘should’ know. You may find you have more control over your own words with someone you were not previously close with."

Harry nodded, "I’ll try. The DADA club should help. Although, my Arithmancy class has been kinda fun. Luna, Susan, and Astoria are pretty fun to be around."

"A study group outside of class might not go amiss,” Filius suggested.

"Yeah, and I see them at the DADA club too, so yeah, that sounds good idea," Harry said. “It is still the class I have the least practice with.”

Filius was pleased to have been helpful and relieved to hear on many fronts the child wasn’t isolating himself.

"Harry, what would you have wanted to be had you graduated Hogwarts?" Filius asked, switching topics.

"I wanted to be an Auror."

That was surprising. Not because he was unqualified, no, Filius had the suspicion that Mr. Potter was more skilled than most Aurors, but that he wanted to work for the government after they had failed him so.

"Do you still want to be an Auror?"

Harry frowned, "I don't know. I haven't thought much about the future to be honest, not outside Hogwarts. Choosing to die sort of felt like the end all be all choice."

Filius's heart clenched, "What else do you enjoy doing?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Teaching, I really like teaching. But I suppose getting a job at Hogwarts is sort of a limited opportunity."

"Not if you're applying to the DADA position," Filius remarked, half joking.

Harry smiled, understanding the joke, "Yeah, but that is only for a year unless I manage to kill Voldy completely."

"So it really is cursed?" Filius asked.

"Yeah, Tom Riddle came back to Hogwarts and offered to teach it but Dumbledore turned him down and demanded he leave the school grounds. This was before he started openly attacking Britain. I think his eyes were already red then though, sort of a tip off."

"How did you see that?" Filius asked, surprised by the visual description.

"Dumbledore showed me in his pensive."

Filius sighed, rubbing his nose.

"Lunch period is almost over, Professor," Harry commented looking at his watch.

Filius held up a finger and hopped off his stack of books. He pulled out one towards the bottom. He handed the book to Harry. "Sixth and seventh years can apply for a teaching assistant position. Start going over this book and make lesson plan outlines. Next year, if you like, you can be my assistant. Mostly, I will use you for in class examples and you will help me grade homework. But if you want a career as a teacher, it will help. You might have to do a few years as a private tutor but if becoming a professor is what you want, there is no reason you can't accomplish that."

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling.

"Keep me updated on your club," Filius said, smiling back.

"I will, bye Professor, have a good day."

"You too, Harry."

The boy flashed him an even wider grin at the use of his first name.

When he was gone Filius sighed and his thoughts swirled in worry for the Boy Who Lived.

oOo

Minerva was watching Harry closely. She could have sworn he did the last transfiguration spell wordlessly, however, she was not sure as she had been on the other side of the room. 

Harry was officially ahead of the rest of the class with or without the factor of wordless magic. He was no prodigy so much as it seemed like he had learned these spells before.

His essays were much improved as well, showing not just a reiteration of the text or class notes but actively engaging with the theory. Harry's essays were blessedly shorter compared to that of Ms. Granger’s small scripted lengthy papers. 

An unforseen effect of Harry doing well in class and on homework was he was engaging more with the other students. Students would ask him for assistance before asking herself or Ms Granger. Minerva had never seen Harry so open with others and the other students seemed to be advancing further by taking his lead.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva called.

"Yes, Professor," he said, looking at her questioningly.

"Come to the front of the class please."

Harry got up with a lack of nervousness that made her realize how much change he had gone through over the last year. She placed a rat on her desk, "Vanish it."

Harry frowned at her.

"Silently," she said.

The class was rivitated.

Harry opened his mouth to ask, but she cut him off.

"Say the word in your mind and visualize what you want done."

His focus went to the rat, his eyes narrowing. He raised his wand.

“And Mr. Potter,” she interrupted.

“Yes, Professor?” he asked.

“If you fail on purpose, I will know.”

Harry bit his lip, then with a single flick of his wand, the rat was gone.

The students were opened mouthed. Hermione's eyes were so wide one could see the white all the way around her irises.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor," Minerva said, cooly.

The Ravenclaws looked at each other, doubtful that any of them were ready to try that.

"Now I don't want anyone to be discouraged. Nonverbal spell work is a measure of focus and mental discipline. Determination, though, is not enough, your mind must also be settled. Typically, it is in the sixth year when we encourage, or demand, that students practice nonverbal spells," Minerva said. "If you feel that you have mastered a spell or wish to challenge yourselves you may try it. As Mr. Potter so politely showed us, it is possible even for younger students."

oOo

Harry kept his expression mild even as guilt and anxiety built inside him. He was afraid to meet Hermione's gaze. Afraid to see the harm he had caused her.

It really wasn’t fair that he jumped ahead.

A small part of him hissed, But didn’t she do the same with the time turner in their third year.

He shook the thought away because it wasn’t the same, and he wasn’t half a year ahead, he was two years ahead, almost three.

One of the Ravenclaws raised his hand addressing his question to Professor McGonagall, "How was Potter able to do that on just one try?"

Harry watched her, worried what she might say.

He wasn’t expecting earnest praise of his past abilities, "As I have heard, Mr. Potter was able to throw off the Imperius Curse on his first attempt. Mr. Potter has demonstrated an incredible sense of self and mental fortitude which has a tangible effect on his mastery over his own magic. 

“However, while he may be an outstanding example, it does not mean any of you are incapable of reaching similar heights.” She met his gaze, giving him a small smile.

Harry felt his cheeks warm, trying to hold onto the praise of his character even as both Hermoine and Ron refrained from talking to him for the rest of class.

It was Neville who leaned over to ask, "How did you do that?"

Harry shrugged, "Practise."

Neville frowned, "Why have you been practising nonverbal spells?"

Harry thought of the months on the run, hiding, cowering. "I thought it might come in handy." 

It had saved his life more than once.

oOo

Harry stayed after class to talk with Professor McGonagall. Neither Hermione nor Ron offered to wait for him.

"I wish you hadn't asked me to do that," Harry said when the last student had left.

Minerva straightened her papers before giving him a shrewd. "You could have held back, Merlin knows, you have before."

"That's not true, I have always tried," Harry said indignantly.

"Potter, the only magic you have ever put your full focus into before this summer were those spells you felt it necessary to survive with. Defending your life or others' has been your only magical interest, aside from flying, since arriving at this school."

"That's not fair."

"It certainly isn't, not to yourself nor to your professors. I will be expecting far more from here on out, and as your Head of House, I will insist that your other professors do the same," McGonagall said.

Harry skin drained of colour thinking of what Snape would do with that instruction. He hadn't even started Occlumency classes with him yet.

She must have seen his expression, for hers softened, "Harry, I know it may sound daunting now, but in the long run, it will only be for your benefit. You could be great, you know ."

Harry laughed bitterly, "That phrase does like to keep following me around, I think a part of me wanted to prove it wrong."

"What keeps coming up?" she asked.

"That is exactly what the Sorting Hat said when it wanted to sort me into Slytherin."

McGonagall's eyes widened ever so slightly, "Do you regret your sorting into my house?"

Harry laughed again, "No, of course I don't, Snape would have had me expelled in the first month."

She smiled slightly, "Well, all the same, I am proud to have you in my house and Snape would have been lucky."

"Or retired."

She laughed.

"Professor, I was wondering if I could request a favour?" Harry asked.

She raised a brow.

"Are you going back to Headquarters at any point soon?"

She nodded, "Likely this weekend, why?"

Harry pulled a small bundle of letters out of his bag. "I was wondering if you could give these to Padfoot. I am afraid to send Hedwig."

She took the letters, "Wise. The Ministry has its eye on us."

"Umbridge shouldn't be around people, much less children, or owls," Harry said, just barely swallowing his anger when he thought of what had happened to her last time.

McGonagall’s lips thinned. "Yes, well, there was no one else available."

"Cancelling the class would have been better."

"It is a core subject, Mr. Potter."

"Maybe Dumbledore should hire Bill Weasley to have a look at the school. He is a curse breaker after all," Harry said.

Minerva tilted her head, like a cat trying to get a better look at a shiny object, "Not a bad thought, Mr. Potter. But it is fast approaching dinner and I have noticed you skipping one too many meals of late. Though I am pleased you have been feeding your mind, your body is just as important."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, though he had little to no intention of eating much, certain he wouldn’t be able to keep the food down tonight.

oOo

"So this whole nonverbal thing wasn't supposed to extend to my two best friends," Harry commented at dinner.

"Says the guy keeping secrets," Ronretorted.

He has no idea, Harry thought, aloud he said, "We don't always have to be attached at the hip."

"I am not helping you with your homework anymore," Hermione said.

"Alright," Harry said, "At least you're talking to me again."

"You made it look so easy," she muttered.

"It isn't!" Harry exclaimed, "It took me forever to figure out how to do it."

"By 'forever' you mean a year ahead of everyone else," she seethed.

Harry throw his hands up, "What do you want from me, Hermione!? I thought you wanted me to do well, I thought you wanted me to try harder at school work."

"I did," she said, "but-"

"But only if you can stay being the best, is that it?"

She paled, back tracking fast, "No, Harry, wait-I-"

"The thing is, Hermione, even if I end being good at things, or seemly better, that doesn't mean you aren't smart, it doesn't mean you aren't the brightest witch of our age. Someone else's success or failure doesn't define you," Harry said, standing. He felt his stomach twist. He really hadn't been eating much lately.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as Harry seemly walked in the direction of the Slytherins.

"I am going to go sit with Luna, at least she doesn't look at me like I'm a freak," he shot back.

"Because she is one," Ron said flippantly.

Harry froze, his whole world seeming to slow down to that moment.

How long had he tolerated that?

How long had he been okay with his friends being mean to others? Hadn’t that been why he refused to be friends with Draco and allow himself to be sorted into Slytherin?

Ron’s remarks about Hermione in there first year had made Harry uncomfortable, but he had already thrown his lot in with Ron, who had been his first human friend.

But that had been waved away when Ron had stopped the troll.

The question was, no that being their friend was so difficult, now that he was older, was Harry still okay with it?

Was he still okay with the way people, his friends , treated Luna, just as everyone had treated Harry throughout his life?

oOo

The way Harry went completely still informed Ron he had well and truly stuck his foot in his mouth again.

He swallowed hard when he saw the anger in Harry’s eyes when he looked back to meet his gaze.

No one at the other tables had noticed, but Hermione was avoiding his gaze while Fred and George watched.

Harry took one step back to say in a voice low enough that most wouldn’t overhear, “She isn’t a freak. She is a kinder and more intelligent person than you have ever been or could hope to be.”

In an almost Snape-like move, Harry spun around and didn’t look back as he went to Ravenclaw's table.

George gave a low whistle and Fred remarked, “You know, Ron, when your best mate has a crush on a nice girl, maybe don’t call her names.”

“Harry doesn’t have a crush on her,” Ginny chimed in.

George laughed, “Gin, you’ve been looking at that boy like he hung the moon in the sky since you met him, if you haven’t noticed that he looks at her as if she was the moon, then maybe you’ve never really seen him.”

“He’s not wrong,” Angelina said. 

Ron bit his lip, again, cursing himself for not keeping up with Harry over the summer.

He met Hermione’s gaze and knew she felt just as lost.

At least, by her pinched expression, Ron could tell that she seemed to agree with him that Luna Lovegood was a weird choice of friend, much less to have a crush on.

oOo

Harry was welcomed warmly at the Ravenclaw table.

"Hi, Harry," Cho greeted, ignoring the stunned Gryffindors behind him.

"You can sit with us whenever you like, Potter," Terry Boot said, "We don't mind excellence."

Luna placed a buttered roll on the plate that had appeared before Harry.

"Thanks," he said, taking a bite of the much needed sustenance.

Luna patted the top of his head.

Harry felt his shoulders ease at the wordless acceptance. The anger he felt towards his friends was easy to set aside as he watched quietly as Terry got into an argument with a seventh year about the origin of Welsh Green dragons.

It was strange, but he felt included in the debate though he never said a word.

Neither did Luna, but they both laughed when the seventh year described the difference between a Common Welsh Green and Welsh Red by making fang gestures with his hands then emphising a big frill with flaying hands and whooshing sounds.

Luna’s laugh was loud and bold and he wished he could be more like her.

McGonagall said he had a great sense of self and mental fortitude, but he wished he was as comfortable in his own skin, in being himself, as Luna Lovegood seemed to be.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, things you want to be added to upcoming chapters, or Atlantic walruses, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: What’s this? A double Potter update, la gasp! Deadly Belladonna ’s second-to-last update is up. 

Chapter 8 - Dumbledore's Pet

Something has changed at Hogwarts, somewhere between the cold stones and shifting stairs. Yet nothing is truly different.

It's as if the world has drawn her breath and held it.

This summer was strange.

I felt like I'd been trapped in our old house, standing in the doorway with those little purple flowers in my hands which I had carefully chosen and gathered for my mum. 

I felt like I had, watching her stand there at her cauldron, golden haired and magnificent, thoroughly unaware of what was to come as she was about to pour the white powder into her potion. 

It seemed as though I had been living in this moment forever, in that moment where all terrible things are inevitable.

When I'm about to be blown back and she's about to be blown away, the purple flowers lost in the smoke.

And yet, somehow, the inevitable at Hogwarts has been rewritten. Nothing has changed but the possibility of change. All signs point to Harry, whether he is the cause or the product, I do not know.

When I look at him, the light around him bends as if he doesn't belong here or doesn't quite fit, but I know that he does, even if the rest hasn't caught up yet. 

When he looks at me, the flowers are still in their fields and there is no smoke to be lost in.

I hope Harry will be my friend. 

I thought Ginny was my friend, but time changes us, and I think she is just pretending now. Now, she smiles to be nice because we are neighbours. But that too is changing, she doesn’t smile at me anymore.

To be fair, Harry is pretending too. He's breathed in his own smoke and he's pretending it doesn't hurt.

Luna Lovegood's Dairy 21st of September 1995

oOo

Tonight would be their first real club meeting.

Previous club meetings had been held, twice, in Myrtle’s bathroom because this hall had been being ‘cleaned’ by Flich. And those meetings had been more of a group study session where everyone complied with what they needed help with the most on the tests.

Eventually, the seventh years, led by the Slytherins, had taken to quizzing Harry about defensive spells.

He hadn’t gotten a single question wrong.

"He finally cracked," Draco said as they all watched Harry paced before a bare wall on the seventh floor.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron said even as he was thinking the same.

On Harry's third rotation of pacing, and muttering "I need a room for us to practice in," the wall rippled and a pair of wooden doors appeared in an elegantly carved archway.

"The Room of the Requirement," Hermione breathed, "I read about this in a Hogwarts, a History ."

Harry pushed those double doors open, revealing a large hall. "Everyone in," he ordered.

"Didn't Dumbledore use this as a bathroom once?" George asked.

"We used it as a broom closet once," Fred remarked.

"How did you find this place?" Hermione asked in awe.

"Dobby," Harry said as he scanned the faces entering the room, doing a mental count.

"My ex-house elf?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. The doors shut behind the last to enter and Harry clapped twice to get everyone's attention. "Alright, so like I’ve been saying, we will be starting with the basics before getting into more complicated spells."

Hermione raised her hand.

Harry caught a sigh, things had been tense between them but they seemed okay for the moment, "Yes, Hermione?"

"I think we need a name," she said.

Anything but Dumbledore's Army, he thought.

"I think we should be called Dumbledore's Army, DA for short," she finished.

A few murmured agreements from the group, a few of the Gryffindors cheered, and the entire Slytherin fraction remained absolutely silent.

"Maybe we should go with something the majority of us like," Harry suggested.

"The majority of us do like it, aside from the Slytherins," Justin Finch-Fletchley sneered.

Harry allowed himself the sigh this time, of course, they couldn’t let be easy. 

"How about Owl Studies?” Harry posed. “That way if someone says the whole of it people will either think we are studying for our OWL's which the majority of us are or we can say we are literally studying owls."

"Hedwig can be our mascot," Susan threw in with a smile. "She's such a pretty bird."

"But that isn't cool," Ron said, "Dumbledore's Army is cool. Hermione was saying as we were coming in that it is what Fudge is most afraid of."

"Then it would be stupid to name our group something that calls attention to us," Blaise Zabini said.

"Besides not everyone likes Albus Dumbledore," Astoria said, crossing her arms.

"Harry likes Dumbledore," Ron shot back. He looked towards Harry and was dismayed by Harry's pinched expression. "Don't you, Harry?"

He coughed, "Er, well I like Hedwig more than the Headmaster.”

He really didn’t want to think about his opinion of the Headmaster, it had been something he had avoided rather well since serving his death at his instruction.

"But you do like him, right?" Ron asked.

“If it’s a choice between Hedwig and the Headmaster, I’m choosing my bird,” Harry said, several people sniggered. “At least she’s my friend.”

Hedwig didn’t want him to die.

"Harry," Hermione chided, "the Headmaster is our friend."

“Just because I’m his pet ‘Golden Boy; doesn’t make him my friend and it certainly doesn’t mean that I have to like him," he snapped.

Some of the group exchanged looks. Blaise cursed and handed Daphne Greengrass a galleon, presumably, for losing a bet.

"Bird Club it is then," Theodore Nott interjected. "Can you all quit wasting my time now?"

Harry had never liked a Slytherin classmate more, with an air of relief he began the lesson. He drew his wand, "The Disarming Spell is one of the simplest and most useful spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Without their wand an opposing witch or wizard has-"

Finch-Fletchley had opened his mouth and Harry pointed his wand at him. "If you don't like what I'm teaching then get yourself gone, I am not forcing anyone to be here."

There was a brief silence. No one, not even Finch-Fletchley made for the exit.

"Right then, as I was saying, a witch or wizard has limited options. This spell also works on opponents with weapons, such as knives, swords, axes, shovels, quills- basically, anything someone is holding is fair game. Here are the motions and the pronunciation." 

He showed them, disarming a dummy that appeared on the far side of the room. 

"Try focusing on your aim. For those who feel really comfortable with it, can try practicing the spell silently." Harry had no idea what the seventh-year Slytherins were capable of, he was just glad that none of them was on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

As in the past, the first ten minutes were a chaotic example of all the reasons why becoming a professor wasn’t an often sought-after position in the wizarding world. 

This time, they did have an even number of people when excluding Harry, so that Neville was paired with Hannah Abbott. Harry was very glad that he had wrote a note to Flitwick over the summer about Neville needing a new wand because the pair was evenly matched now, maybe Neville was even a bit stronger.

Harry didn't stop the group, he walked through the pairs making suggestions as he went. 

The Slytherins were about even with the rest of the class though the purebloods had an obvious leg up with their Latin and body formation, their aim however…

Harry used a shield charm to stop an over charged spell from knocking Cho Chang upside the head.

"Judge how much power you need to take a wand out of someone's hand," Harry said, raising his voice for all to hear rather than pointing out the individual, who in this case had been Astoria Greengrass. "The more power you push into this spell the better your aim needs to be as a lower charged Disarming Spell isn't forced to go in a straight line."

Two hours later everyone had gotten the spell, the seventh years all having managed to accomplish it silently, including the twins.

"That was good-" Harry said calling their meeting to close.

"Wait," one of the seventh year Slytherin boys called, "I want to see you perform the spell against someone."

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Maximillion Ulysses," he said.

Harry waved him forward, "Well you just volunteered so step forward, someone give us a countdown."

Luna stepped out of the bystanders and counted, "Three… two…" She seemed to get distracted by something floating over their heads before getting to the last number.

Hermione made a harsh impatient sound in the back of her throat, before calling out, "Three, two, one, go!"

Maximillion's wand was flying in the air before the seventh year could twitch his wrist, Harry caught the wand and tossed it back to him.

Maximillion grinned, "You can call me Max, Potter."

Harry smiled back, "Well, that's the Disarming Charm. Let me know what days everyone has Quidditch practice and if times don't line up we can do two half classes early in the mornings before breakfast."

People left smiling and chatting.

"Wait so is this the OS, Owl Studies or BC, Bird Club?" someone asked as they moved out of the room in groups of fours.

Harry was surreptitiously checking the map as they left. It was a Saturday and they were all well within curfew and Umbridge hadn’t begun making her ridiculous mandates yet.

"I think it should be OSC, Owl Studies Club," another person said as they left.

"Harry?" a soft voice said from behind him.

He turned to see Cho looking at her feet. "Did you need something?" he asked.

"Um, no, I was- that is, I just wanted to say- you're a great teacher," she stuttered.

"Thanks," Harry said, laughing internally. He would be doing cartwheels if he had still been fifteen. Now? It was just amusing not to be the flustered one.

"Well, I'll just…" her voice cracked and her face turned bright pink. "See you around," she finished in a squeak.

Harry was smiling as he tried not to chuckle at his first crush’s antics. It was funnier now that Cedric wasn't dead just graduated. 

Hermione approached him, eyes narrowed, "I thought you liked her?"

"I did," Harry said, eyes checking the room to see who was lingering. Susan, Astoria, Luna, Ron, and Hermione were the only ones left.

"But not anymore?" Hermione questioned.

"Not anymore," Harry agreed, stepping around her to talk with his other classmates.

"You got over her quick," she said as he passed.

"I didn't really know her, it wasn't that hard to get over her," Harry said, just out of earshot of the others.

Ron and Hermione left together after that.

"Hi," Harry greeted.

"You are a good teacher," Astoria said almost grudgingly.

Susan smiled, "It was a lot of fun!"

"B.B.C.E." Luna said.

"What?" Harry asked, tilting his head a bit.

Luna smiled brilliantly at him, "Best Bird Club Ever."

He laughed.

Inevitably, everyone ended up calling Bird Club and occasionally, they called Harry the Bird Master. While Luna shortened it to Best Bird.

Who was Harry to argue, Hedwig was, after all, the best bird.

oOo

Harry smiled warmly at Snape who was clearly biting back a snarl. 

Harry had been assigned the tempmental potion that typically took at least two people to accomplish on his own. Ron and Hermione had joined Neville, Hermione ensuring that their cauldron didn't blow up, Neville ensuring that they would barely scrape a passing grade for the day much to Hermione's annoyance.

Harry's potion, however, was flawless.

"Bring up your flasks and clean up," Snape hissed. "Potter, stay behind."

The class seeing the man's obvious frustration hurried to get done and out of the room.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape began, teeth clenched, "How does someone as abomismal as you at potions advance so quickly."

"I read some extra books and paid attention while I brewed.”

“Which you admit to chosing not to do in years past,” Snape sneered.

Harry shrugged, “I gave up truly trying in this class when you punished me on the first day for taking notes, which you would have known had you bothered to look past your nose.

"You must have practiced brewing outside of class," Snape said, by passing the criticism.

He had, but Harry wasn’t about to admit to being three years older to Snape. "It's like baking."

Snape raised a brow, "And how long have you been baking?"

"I have been cooking and baking, since I four."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "Four is too young to reach the stove."

"Aunt Petunia was ever so kind enough to lend me a stool," Harry said sweetly.

"Somehow I doubt you were a genius adolescent. Did your Aunt and Uncle eat the food you made?"

Harry fought back a flinch, that first year had been difficult.

And painful. "I wasn’t exactly making meals at four, I mostly boiled water and stirred."

By six he was making meals on his own while his Aunt baked.

"I wouldn't have trusted you in a kitchen," Snape remarked.

Harry only just managed to not roll his eyes before saying innocently, "I learned quick to carry heavy pots with both hands."

Snape frowned, his demeanour shifting, "Were you ever hurt?"

This time Harry did roll his eyes, “It’s a kitchen, I was tiny, what do you think?”

Snape shook his head, "I still can't image you were any good a making food that young."

"It was either get good or dodge frying pans."

Snape stared him down. Harry looked away first, breaking eye contact, fearing this game.

"I believe it is time we start you Occlumency lessons. I'll see you Friday night," Snape entoned.

"What am I supposed to tell people? It's not like I need remedial potions," Harry said with a smirk.

He remembered being humiliated last time, he was all to happy to make this harder for Snape and Dumbledore this time around.

"You will tell them you have detention for talking back to your professor," Snape said, glaring at Harry as if he were his father returned from the dead to haunt him.

Harry’s false cheer ended the moment the potions room's door shut behind him. He needed to learn to protect his mind before Snape got a shot at him again. The man might be trying to keep him in alive but he was too deep in Dumbledore's pocket. Harry didn't hate the Headmaster, but Harry wasn't going to be strangled by his own leash this time.

oOo

Harry should have been in Arithmancy right now, yet at the moment he was sitting in Albus Dumbledore's office wondering if a person could read minds through stone floors.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said jovilly, "lemon drop?"

"No, thanks," Harry said, glancing up, briefly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Harry looked to Fawkes to avoid eye contact. Fawkes sang a few notes at him in greeting.

Harry couldn't help smiling a bit in response.

"Harry do you know why you're here?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"Minerva asked at the last staff meeting if every teacher would challenge you a bit more in your classes. She seems to feel you are more advanced the rest of your classmates."

Harry frowned, "I am not doing much better than Hermione."

"Minerva thinks you have barely begun to scratch your potential."

Harry didn't know what to say to that.

Dumbledore waited, and finally said, "I disagree with her."

Harry frowned and hated himself for feeling hurt that Dumbledore didn't think better of him. Why does it still matter to me what this man thought?

Harry didn't have an answer for that either.

"I don't think you should be given extra work. As it is, you seem to be distancing yourself from Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore continued.

"We haven't-" Harry started. "They haven't liked me doing better in class. Ron hates that I have been studying so much."

"Perhaps you are studying too much, Harry," Dumbledore chided gently. "You deserve to have a childhood."

Rage, hot, blinding rage filled his gut, his veins.

Heat rushed up his face and Harry closed his eyes as the fury tingled along his scalp. Childhood? What childhood? His tongue felt heavy. The injustice of this man, this man, telling him he deserved a childhood after what Harry had suffered, after watching Sirius die, after Dumbledore allowing himself to be killed, after walking making Harry walk to his death, to speak of a childhood?

He didn't know if he wanted to cry or throttle the old coot.

It took time before Harry found enough to say quietly, "You want me to hold back? You don’t want me to fight?"

You want me willing, to be your willing sacrifice.

"No, I want you to spend time with your friends. Our friends are our greatest gift in this life," Dumbledore said.

"Well maybe I want better friends," Harry said venomously. 

He wasn't that mad at Ron and Hermione, well maybe he was mad at the way both of them had been treating Luna but Harry understood that his changes had been unnerving for them. His time travelling wasn't their fault and he had planned to be patient with them. They were his friends, and he would wait for them to grow up some before pouring the truth down their throats. 

But of course, Dumbledore didn't know that.

Dumbledore frowned, "Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have been extremely loyal to you through your years at Hogwarts."

Harry crossed his arms, he was eighteen but it was easy enough to lean into his outward appearance as a fifteen years old body. If Dumbledore wanted to treat him like a normal student, then immature teenage coming right up. 

He sunk a little in his seat. "I don't want to talk about this," he sulked.

"My boy, who else are you going to talk with?"

Harry felt a stab in his heart, he had been so isolated growing up at Hogwarts, without Hermione and Ron, he had had literally no one. 

He had Sirius, briefly, but Harry had been so worried about him that he had never really depended on his godfather. 

This time though, he wasn’t so very alone. His new friendships were tenuous, but he already knew his club would fly to the Ministry of Magic for him. He did have a real relationship with Sirius now, one Dumbledore had no part in.

Harry had Professor Flitwick who had never bought into all of Dumbledore’s tricks, being one of the only powerful professors at the school who wasn’t a part of the Order of the Pheonix.

"I have Sirius," Harry said, the hunching in of his shoulders was not as pretend as he wanted it to be.

"Talking with Sirius-"

"You know instead of lecturing me about my study habits, you could be trying to get my godfather free," Harry muttered.

"My boy, it isn't that easy-"

"It never is."

"Harry,” Dumbledore sighed. “In my long years, I have often found the world appears very small. Either from living only in our own perspective or because the patterns of history so often repeat themselves. The world is so very connected that the answers we find seem obvious. It becomes hard once we have found an answer to remember the journey in which that answer was unknown to us. You may feel that you have in some way outgrown your friends but I would urge you not to cut them out of your life. 

“True friendship is hard to come by and no matter how different you may feel from those around you, right now, know that they are as human as you. They have struggled to find their own answers."

Answers? What answers? Harry thought, closing his eyes. He had no answer. 

He had died; died for his friends and the people at this school. Died because he had trusted and loved Albus Dumbledore like some domesticated pet. 

But Harry had no answers, no answers at all. He didn't know if his death had succeeded in laying waste to Voldemort, if anyone had killed Nagini, if his death had led to anything except the victory of the Dark Lord. 

Harry didn't know if there even was a future. By going back in time, had he erased the future he had come from? What had he died for? Why had he time travelled? Was this reality real at all?

"Harry, what happened in the graveyard?" Dumbledore asked kindly, like a cherished grandfather.

"Wormtail got away," Harry said hollowly. "So did Voldemort."

"You were gone for a long time."

He has no idea , Harry thought. He looked out the window. So much had happened in the next three years, so much could happen.

"It took a while," Harry answered, eyes focused on the grey clouds. Darker clouds were building. It was likely to rain soon.

"A while for what?" Albus coaxed.

"To gather my bearings."

Albus nodded and motioned to the door, "You may go to your next class, I shall not keep you any longer, but I want you to know I will always be here for you, Harry."

Harry's throat dried up, his mind spinning; liar, liar, LIAR!

As Harry stood he realised something, realised why he didn't just tell Dumbledore the truth, the future as it had stood. Because if he told the Headmaster then he would have to confront the old wizard on how he could groom him for death. 

Because deep down Harry knew Dumbledore had loved him and Harry knew that asking that question would hurt Dumbledore.

And if didn't, if Dumbledore didn't love him as Harry had loved the Headmaster, then…

Then what was it all for?

Why had he trusted him?

Why had allowed himself to be betrayed?

Used?

His whole life masterminded by two of the world’s most powerful and heartless wizards. 

So like a well trained dog, Harry kept quiet and didn't bite the hand that owned him.

oOo

AN: Reactions, chickadees, and thoughts, please?

Chapter Text

Reminder: The thesis of this story is telling a child soldier to martyr himself, with all the themes that implies. Please take care of yourself.

P.S. Luna told me to tell you she's taken up residence with my muses, again.

Chapter 9 - Always

My stripey socks are gone. I put them to the left of the matches and I remember folding them into a bow.

Perhaps Wrackspurts are responsible. Maybe that is why I have a false memory of bowed stripey socks. Father says they are invisible creatures that distract the mind.

Best Bird Club was fun. Harry seems to have taught before. 

His friends don't see him. Hedwig came to the second meeting on Woden's night. Hedwig sees everything.

Harry says that everyone calling the club different things all the time is a good thing. The muggleborns like calling the club Owl Studies, OS officially, though the Slytherins still call it B.C. and when Harry talks about it in Arithmancy he calls it BB for Best Bird. He also asked if our group could have a study night for Arithmancy. 

I am happy to be included, happier still to spend time with my friend.

This is the best month of Hogwarts ever.

24th of September 1995

Luna Lovegood's Diary

oOo

Harry was pretty much panicked about his Occlumency class. He had been 'clearing his mind' before sleep each night and though he could sort of imagine he had mental shields he was not prepared for Snape to attack his mind.

As he trekked down to the dungeons he cursed himself for not going to Flitwick for help, old habits die hard. Apparently, not even the Killing Curse could kick the habit of not asking for help.

Harry took a deep breath before knocking on Snape's door. 

Harry's only strategy was to throw memories of his childhood at Snape. If the bat wanted to have his memories he could have the Dursleys, the rest Snape would have to fight for. It was a flawed plan, but it was a plan, at least.

Snape answered the door, standing back to let him in. Harry flinched at the sight of the pensive. Not long ago, he would have jumped at the chance to look into Snape's mind. 

But the memory of the man sobbing and holding his mother's dead body still made his gut clench. It was an odd feeling, sharing one of his greatest sorrows with one of his least liked people.

It hadn’t seemed so bad when the man was dead, but Snape was easier to appreciate when he wasn’t forced into his company.

Snape said the same spiel he had the last time before pointed his wand at Harry. His heart kicked into high gear and Harry couldn't stop himself raising his own wand in defense. As easily as he had disarmed Maximillion, Snape's wand shot across the room.

He wasn’t ready for this.

"This is not a dueling class, Potter," Snape growled, but his onyx eyes were wide with surprise. 

oOo

Snape had not expected the boy to be so fast. He had been hearing the stories that he could do nonverbal casting, but that was not the same thing as witnessing it for himself. 

The boy's breathing was abnormally heavy. 

Snape retrieved his wand. "Again, Potter. The Dark Lord can perform this spell without a wand."

oOo

Harry had barely regained control of his breathing, he braced for impact and he was suddenly back in the Forbidden Forest.

Red eyes, Green light.

White, white mist.

Albus was standing across from him in a misty King's Cross.

"' Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?'"

Pain.

More white mist.

Harry was very small, sitting on a familiar couch in the Potter House at Godric's Hollow, his parents were with him, smiling sadly. "Live, son, please live," James said, touching a gentle hand to Harry's cheek.

" We love you, we will always love you," Lily said, silver tears trailing down her pale face. “Live for us, be happy. We will always love you, always.”

Pain.

Harry was back in Snape's office, only he was on the floor now and he was crying.

"Potter…" Snape started reaching out to him.

Harry crab-walked backwards until he hit the wall of cabinets. He curled in on himself. 

Dying, death, life, living, pain, what was the difference?

He was going to throw up if he didn't get ahold of himself soon. Those were memories that he had not even known he had. Is that what had happened to him when he died the first time?

Had he died when he was a baby too?

He had forgotten how much it had hurt when he came back to life. The phantom pain in his scar made him want to claw at his face.

"Potter," Snape was at his side, kneeling on the floor and holding out a goblet. "Drink this."

Harry glared at the bastard, "I wasn't meant to remember that. I didn't want to remember that." Too close, what would have happened if he had tipped the other way? Would he be home with his parents now? Would it have been better for everyone if he had died back then?

He was going to be sick.

"Drink this," Snape persisted.

Harry snatched the cup and downed it before shoving it back at Snape. He half hoped it was poison.

Death cured all ills, didn’t it?

Harry was suddenly angry, angry that he had lost control over himself in front of this man. Harry wiped viciously at the tear tracks under his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. He had to adjust his glasses as he had nearly knocked them of his own face.

The potion had begun to show its effects, Harry let his head fall back with a dull thump on the shelf behind him, his shoulders slumping. Calming Potion, which was a blessing and curse because, on the one hand, he wasn't throwing up, on the other hand, he could clearly think about the concept of dying.

Twice. 

He had died twice, literally died twice.

He hadn’t wanted to know that. He wasn’t dealing well with the first, rather the second, death, it was impossible to think that he had said goodbye to his parents.

His parents who had told him to live.

oOo

Severus had no idea what to think about what he had just seen. The Dark Lord's red eyes, followed by green light. That's what had happened to the boy that night. Albus talking to him at King's Cross was odd, James Potter and Lily, beautiful, beautiful Lily talking to their small orphaned child was not.

It was tragic

Guilt was drowning Severus. Hating James's son had been so easy. They looked so alike, hating him was easy, simple. While facing the fact that it was Severus's fault that Lily was dead had tormented him for years. 

But looking at her son, pale and sweaty on his office floor, Severus couldn't hide from the fact that this too was his fault. His fault a child had been struck by the Dark Lord's killing curse, his fault that Harry Potter, Lily Evan's only son, was an orphan.

He met the tempest in those emerald green eyes and would have given anything and everything to go back in time and take their place. Severus should have been the one to die for his own mistakes, not this family. He had hated James but nothing that man had ever done had earned him his fate.

Severus sat on the ground with James Potter's son, waited for Harry to regain himself after having to relive the experience of being murdered.

I will always love you .

Severus felt like the evil git that Harry had come to view him as.

Eventually, Harry stood. His wand fisted in his right hand, "May I go, Sir?"

Severus did not stand, his voice was low but absent of malice. "Yes, we can try again next week."

Harry took quick, jerky steps to the door but froze before opening it. He didn't turn to face Severus when he asked, "Are you going to tell Dumbledore? Are you going to tell him what you saw?"

"No," Severus said truthfully, "I swear to you, I will not tell Albus what I saw or heard." Or felt.

Harry turned then, "Guess I don't have a choice but to believe you. After all, the word of a triple agent is something I can take to the bank, isn’t it?" 

Potter left slamming the door behind him before Severus could dredge up a retort.

He remained on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him. He regretted everything, every decision he had ever made.

Yet his regret meant nothing, absolutely nothing. For no matter what he did or felt, she would remain dead. Hearing her voice in Harry's memory had destroyed him.

I will always love you.

Those words were not meant for him, had never been meant for him. A fresh wash of self-loathing came with the thought, with the wish that he would have preferred the mother to survive the killing curse rather than the son.

Severus really was an evil bastard.

oOo

Harry hid for the rest of the weekend, he skipped Quidditch practice and buried himself in books. He was careful to make sure he ate breakfast and dinner though, for everyone's eyes were on him, the students, the Headmaster, Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick. Harry had no idea what Flitwick thought.

Sunday morning, Hedwig came to him with a letter, or rather a note from Flitwick that read simply, Ask for help. Harry gently refolded the note and pocketed it. Never looking up at the head table, he took Hedwig with him, set on finding a quiet place to read. Hedwig nestling on his shoulder.

oOo

Draco and Theo exchanged glances as Harry left the hall. As one they got up and went to the Gryffindor table.

"Granger, what's wrong with Potter?" Draco asked when they got there.

"Get stuffed," Ron said around a mouthful of food.

Draco gave him a disgusted look, "I have no desire to look like you, Weasley. Granger, answer my question."

Hermione shrugged, "How am I supposed to know? I'm not Harry."

Theo slammed a fist on the table, "He's your friend, little mouse, and far as we are aware nothing in the last week should have caused him to be hiding."

"Harry isn't hiding," Ron said.

Draco scoffed, "Yesterday, I saw him run away from a Hufflepuff, a Hufflepuff ."

"Her name is Susan Bones, and her aunt is head-" Hermione started.

"Why is the Boy-Who-Lived running away from anyone? He looks like someone has died," Draco stressed.

"He skipped Quidditch practice," Ginny said.

"And when is the last time Potter missed a practice?" he asked.

Fred answered, "When he's unconscious from some sort of attack."

"Or when Harry's in Madame Pomfrey’s care-" George said.

"Imprisonment," Fred coughed.

"And none of you lions know why Harry's upset now?" Theo asked incredulously.

"If you little snakey-poohs are so worried about him-" George cooed.

"-why don't you go talk to him?" Fred suggested with a snigger.

"Maybe we will," Draco declared.

A few of the Gryffindors chuckled.

"You think this is funny?" Theo asked.

"We think you're funny," Fred said grinning.

"So much for Gryffindor friendship being golden," Draco snapped.

Hermione shook her head, "It's funny because if Harry doesn't want to talk then he will not talk."

"The more you try to force him," George began.

"The more closed mouth he gets," Fred said.

"There are a lot of reasons why Hermione and Ron are Harry's only friends," Neville said, poking at his food. "One of them is because he doesn't let anyone else in."

"You know he really would have been a good fit in our house," Theo commented.

Ron snorted, "And what do you think you can do to make Harry talk that we haven't already tried."

Draco met the challenge in his second cousin's gaze, "I will do more than try."

oOo

As it happened Harry's hiding spots were good enough that the next time anyone saw him was in Snape's potions class Monday morning.

Harry had arrived early to class and had set up his cauldron in the closest station to Snape's desk.

Draco put his supplies next to him. "Mind if I partner with you today?"

Harry nodded, not pulling his gaze up from the potions book he was rereading.

"Potter, what's wrong with you?"

Harry didn't say a word.

Draco continued badgering him, but nothing he did got even the slightest rise.

The first hint he got for the reason Harry was moody happened when Snape entered the class and avoided his own desk, to avoid Harry unless absolutely necessary. In ignoring Harry, he subsequently ignored Draco too.

"This is weird," Draco said as watched his godfather loom over people on the opposite side of the room.

Harry chuckled, "Not used to be ignored?"

Draco whipped his head around to face the raven haired boy, "You talk?"

Harry grinned, "Will the miracles never cease?"

"Are you alright?" Draco asked.

"Fine," Harry said, focusing back on the potion.

"No, you're not."

"If you were going to answer your own question, why did you ask me?"

"You've been hiding. Why?"

"None of your business," Harry said evenly.

"Everyone's worried about you."

"Sweet of them."

"What happened? Was it something to do with Snape? You had detention with him, right?" Draco pressed.

Harry frowned at the blonde, "I'm alive, I'm fine. Why do you even care?"

"Because Slytherins take care of their own."

"Unless you're a Death Eater," Harry sniped.

Draco hissed, "Watch your mouth."

Harry's mouth twitched, "Don't challenge me to a hissing contest, Draco, we both know who would win that one. Or do you want to test it out and summon more serpents?"

"You have no idea what happened to our families after the war," Draco whispered.

"I know mine ended up dead, well, everyone I might have liked in my family anyway," Harry muttered.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco asked, exasperated.

"Do you want the long list or just the highlights?" Harry asked.

"I am trying to be nice, Potter."

"Then maybe you should, I don't know, use my name, it's Harry in case you're wondering."

Draco shook his head, "I don't understand you at all."

Shadows darkened Harry's eyes, "Honestly, I don't think I do either."

Draco and Harry's potion was the best in the class, Snape even gave five points to Gryffindor -after the fifteen he gave to Slytherin.

oOo

Harry was quiet in Arithmancy but the beaten dog look he'd been wearing all weekend was gone. He even apologized for 'avoiding' Susan.

Luna gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as they were packing up at the end of class.

oOo

Harry didn't know what to think anymore. Learning that he had died when he was a baby was strange. Remembering his father and mother in the afterlife was… He didn't have words for what that was. Harry's only memory of his parents was their screaming as they were murdered, other people's memories, Voldemort's ghost wand, and the Resurrection Stone. But the memory of his mother telling him she would always love him and his father telling him to live was both healing and soul-destroying.

Two questions had been haunting him. One, if he had died he would be with them, so was living really better? Two, if his father had wanted him to live why did the Resurrection Stone version of him encourage him to die?

The first he should probably talk with Flitwick and/or with Sirius.

The second? Harry was thinking he needed to get his hands on a copy of Beedle the Bard and maybe write a letter to Luna's father. Mr. Lovegood had known about the Hallows when he talked to him, what was for him, just a few months ago.

oOo

Umbridge was actually lecturing in their afternoon class that Monday and what she had to say had Harry holding a hand over his mouth.

Draco had sat next to him this class too, trying and failing to get Harry to talk about what was wrong.

Draco gave Harry an odd look as Harry made a near farting noise into his palm in an attempt not to laugh.

"Centaurs are barbaric, unintelligent-"

Harry lost it, laughing full out, as he remembered her threatening them in the Forbidden Forest, and them dragging her away.

The entire class was staring at him.

"And what is so funny, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked coldly.

"I dare you to repeat that to a centaur, I am sure they'll love it, and that you'll walk away on top," Harry grinned. The glorious image of her wailing crossing his mind's eye.

She glared at him, "Centaurs are dumb animals-"

"They aren't animals," Harry said over her racism. "They aren't even technically Magical Creatures, they just wanted to be left alone and out of Wizarding politics so they waved their inclusion as Magical Beings."

The class, all of whom, aside from Crabbe and Goyle were in his DADA students were gazing at him in fascinated horror.

"Detention," Umbridge said.

"For what?" Harry snarked.

"For talking without raising your hand and spreading lies."

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, "If you want to make a field trip to the forest we can prove who the liar in the room is. Me, who thinks you should treat Centaurs like foreign world leaders, especially when on their territory, or you, who thinks insulting them is going to play out well."

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor," Umbridge snapped, "And a full week of detention."

"I can't on Friday, prior plans and all," Harry said with a lazy grin. He was enjoying yanking her chain. It was a good distraction from the hell playing out in his mind. 

He could practically see the steam rising from her pink hat.

"Quidditch is not an acceptable-"

"It's not Quidditch."

"Then you will be in my office every day this week, including Friday."

Harry sighed loudly, and then said in a slow, patronizing tone, "I am busy on Friday. I. Have. Prior. Commitments."

"What are you doing?" Draco asked under his breath.

Umbridge gritted her teeth, her pumps clicking on the stone floor as she stomped towards him, "What prior commitments?"

"None of your business," Harry teased.

"You cannot skip detention," she shrilled, voice rising.

Harry smiled, "I don't intend to."

"So you will be in my office Friday-"

"No," Harry said slowly, "I just told you, I can't on Friday." He glanced at his watch.

"Skipping detention can get you expelled," she told him.

"Yes, but I already have detention with Professor Snape Friday night, and he called dibs."

Umbridge blinked at him in surprise, mouth parted, whatever she was going to say clearly lost.

The bell rang and Harry was one of the first out of the room.

Draco and Daphne were hot on his heels.

"What was that?" Daphne snarled.

"Entertainment," Harry said, "You should be thanking me that was a full ten minute detour of a rubbish lecture."

"But your detentions?" Draco throw in.

Harry shrugged, "I already finished my homework for the week."

"What about OS?" Daphne pressed.

"We have the weekend or the mornings," Harry said. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go explain myself to my Head of House before the Toad gets to her."

oOo

AN: Another update? Three days running ;D 

Deadly Belladonna is now finished and Chapter 24 + prologue will be up shortly. I know a lot of people don’t review on final chapters of completed fics, it would a lot to me if you did :)

Chapter Text

AN: I’m in Italy (more beautiful than I imagined) for the first time, seeing where my great-grandfather fought in WWI in the alps, miracles were involved in my family history because daaaaaamn, so many ways to die up here. And I share this with you because one of the reviewers reviewed every chapter in Italian since I arrived and I can’t bring myself not to reward such serendipitous kindness. Buongiorno, from my phone wifi to yours ;D 

Chapter 10 - I Aim to Misbehave

Today, I drew a butterfly falling from the sky.

Yellow to blue.

I owled it to my father. I told him that Harry Potter might be my friend.

27th of September 1995.

L.L.

oOo

Harry had no idea how he was going to get out of this. It was Tuesday and he was sitting in his make up detention during his break which Umbridge happened to have a break in too.

Serendipity-du-dah-day.

A part of him thought that maybe she wouldn't bring out the blood quill as there were still classes in session, but was not at all surprised when she laid the black feather on his desk, her ugly rings gleaming dully. The pink in this room was annoying and though he liked cats the kittens around him seemed somehow demonic.

I must not tell lies. Harry stared down at the parchment in front of him. He saw the back of his hand, it was unblemished. He wasn't going to scar himself again, not for the Cursed Toad and not for his damned pride. But how to get out of this?

He looked up at Umbridge, her eyes wide with eager anticipation; bloodthirsty hag.

What would Sirius do? Harry asked himself.

His eyes slid to the door and he grinned.

oOo

A loud yelling and the pounding footsteps sounded in the hall. A few bangs from a wand were followed by the screeching for someone to "Stop!"

Students poked their heads out of their classes as they watched the famous Harry Potter running full tilt down the halls, a black feathered quill raised above his head like a torch, Umbridge lagging behind him. 

Her stride was comparatively tiny to Harry's and the clicking patter and scrape of her heels made an uneven rhythm, clearly, she was not used to running. Her wand was fisted in her hand as she tried desperately to keep up.

Students began to cheer Harry on as he ran and kept shouting, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

A viking’s call to charge, not that the purebloods understood the reference to the druidic ancestors.

Harry barged into the Transfiguration room. He climbed one of the tables and hopped down from table top to table top. Umbridge's stunner knocked over a box of mice, illiciating a round of screams.

Shields were going up around the room, easily fending off the toad’s wild stunners.

Fred and George were howling with laughter as Umbridge shrieked, dancing on her toes.

Harry had no shame in dropping to duck under McGonagall's desk to hide behind her skirts. 

The Transfiguration Professor had her wand raised, the mice turning to bouncy balls which Umbridge stepped on, causing her feet to go out from under her. She landed on her back with a resounding thwap-thud, her little humph was barely audible in the chattering and laughter of the room.

"Mister Potter!" McGonagall demanded, turning on him, her wand held at her side. "What is the meaning of this? This is a NEWTs level class."

"He was in detention with me," Umbridge gasped as she got to her knees.

Harry laid the quill on McGonagall's desk, "She wanted me to write lines with this."

“He lies!” Umbridge exclaimed. “He’s a liar!”

Harry rolled his eyes as his Head of House recognised the feather.

Harry really needed to embrace Sirius-like behaviour more often, it had been exhilarating.

oOo

Minvera's lips were set as she was about to mention that lines were hardly the worst punishment during a detention, until she realised what the quill was.

Her eyes widened in horror, she wanted to disbelieve it, but Dolores worked for the government.

Minerva pulled Harry behind her with her free hand. She had her wand pointed at the shorter witch who had finally gotten to her feet with the other. 

"You dare?" Minerva seethed. "You dare use a Blood Quill on one of my students? I will have you–"

"They are not illegal and the boy needed to be taught a les--"

"Blood Quills have been outlawed at Hogwarts for hundreds of years!" Minerva exclaimed. The class had descended into complete silence. She doubted any of them had ever had cause to see their professor so enraged.

"The Ministry-"

"I do not give a damn about the Ministry. I am Assistant Headmistress at this school and I forbid this. I shall take on any detention you give out and I shall bring this to the Headmaster."

Dolores attempted to sneer up at her, "Cornelius will hear of this."

"Tell him," Minerva invited. "Go ahead. While you at it, don’t neglect to tell him how you were about to torture a student for speaking out of turn. If I find out that you have attempted this on any other student, I will be writing a personal letter to every parent and guardian who has a child at this school and we shall see what they have to say."

The pink abomination glared.

"Get out of my classroom," Minerva commanded.

oOo

Umbridge opened her mouth but McGonagall yelled at her, "Get out!"

Umbridge left and the room cheered, even the Slytherins.

McGonagall turned to Harry who could not suppress his urge to hug her, a quick one but a real one. 

"Thank you," he said just loud enough for her to hear.

"You are still in detention, Mr. Potter," she said firmly, not reproaching him for the hug. "Take a seat, you will be joining this class, it is a double period and the homework will be the completion of your detention."

Harry all but skipped to a seat between the twins.

They both slapped him on the back warmly.

Harry didn’t think he could manage being a trickster all of the time, but there were worse fates.

They were transforming inanimate objects into animated ones, nonverbally. 

Harry was pleased with this challenge, his block of wood turning into a snake with bark patterned scales by the end of the period.

It was a real snake, it moved in all snakelike ways, but Harry wasn't sure how to make it real. It was moving, but the eyes were lifeless black pits.

Maximillion, who sat a row behind them had succeeded in creating life, his snake was sassing the class about how filthy humans smelled and how hungry she was.

Harry summoned a tiny mouse from the box that McGonagall had fixed back to its original position.

Harry turned and placed the mouse on Max's desk and he hissed in Parseltongue, "Here, food. Can you stop complaining now, please? It is distracting."

The sassy snake blinked once at him, "Speaker?" she asked, then promptly ignored him in favour of devouring the mouse before it could flee.

Max gaped at him.

"What?" Harry asked, "She wouldn't shut about how hungry she was."

"She?" The Slytherin boy next to Max asked. He wasn't in the BBCE.

"Everyone already knows I'm a Parselmouth," Harry reminded the Slytherin before turning back to his own snake shaped lump of wriggling wood.

Fred and George were grinning at him.

"What?"

The bell rang and they began to clean up their things.

"Nothing," George started.

"Just you-" Fred continued.

George, "Out slithering-"

"The Slytherins," Fred finished.

oOo

Harry went to Flitwick's office after class.

"What's been going on?" Flitwick asked without preamble.

Harry plopped himself in a chair opposite from his professor. "Umbridge tried to use a blood quill on me and McGonagall saved me."

Flitwick crossed his arms. "I heard. Now tell me what has been happening with you. I haven't talked with you since your meeting with Albus. How did that go?"

Harry sighed, "He said I deserved to have a childhood and shouldn't be pushing myself in classes."

Flitwick was silent for a long moment before he asked, "How did you like Minerva's NEWT class?"

"I didn't master the spell but it was… it was challenging and I liked sharing a class with Fred and George. They are helpful and light hearted. Ron and Hermione are more competitive, or disinterested, or bickering. That was fine when I was younger but now it seems, overly childish and well, hard, I don't know just-"

"Hard to be a part of," Flitwick finished for him.

Harry sighed, able to verbalize more clearly what Flitwick had warned him about only a few weeks ago, "It isn't that I don't like them or being around them, but yes, I feel like I don't fit in anymore."

"And yet you are getting along with the older students," Flitwick stated.

Harry pursed his lips, "Is age really such a big deal?"

Long blonde hair flashed through his mind’s eye.

"It can be, especially with the sort of experiences you have had. That your two best friends have no memory of what you remember experiencing with them is another layer."

"So how do I fit in again?" Harry asked.

"Are you asking how you can be your fifteen-year-old self again?" Flitwick rephrased. "Harry, you can never go back to who you were before, well not without a memory charm and there are simply too many ways that could go wrong. Besides, there are marks left on the soul that would haunt you even if you no longer remembered their cause."

"But I have gone back to being fifteen, haven't I? I mean look at me," Harry stretched his arms out. "I'm short."

Flitwick smiled, "Height is not everything."

Harry's cheeks reddened, "Sorry."

"Non-taken, Harry."

"I just meant this isn't my body."

Flitwick frowned, "It is indeed your body, and you need to start taking better care of it."

"I've been eating," Harry said, affronted.

"You've been skipping lunch for almost a full week and while stature isn't a paramount concern, you are short for your age in a way that isn't genetic. Did the Dursleys feed you properly when you were growing up?"

Harry didn't say a word.

It was Flitwick's turn to sigh. "Harry, why is it that in your narrative of your life, you leave out your family?"

"They aren't," Harry said at once. "At least they aren't people who really care about what happens to me."

Flitwick looked into Harry's eyes for a long moment, "Worse comes to worse, Harry, you shall be spending the summer with me. Albus will find himself in trouble if he tries going against me."

"Albus always has a say in what happens to me," Harry said, making sure to let his unhappiness about that fact be understood.

"What would you say about entering Minerva's NEWT classes permanently?" The professor asked, veering the conversation again.

Harry's eyes widened, "I am pretty far behind aren't I?"

"We are only entering the fourth week, you are an able student. I see no reason you couldn't catch up and keep up. Of course, you will be expected to take your OWLs. But you don't have to take any NEWTs until your seventh year if you don't want to take them this school year, or the next."

"But-" Harry stammered, his thoughts tangling. "What about my other classes? And just NEWTs in Transfiguration? That isn't even my strongest class and what would I do in the next two years?"

"In Transfiguration, Minerva made noises about you being interested in learning to become an animagus. That is a full year of study on its own, and for your last year, well, you have options. As for your other classes, Severus will continue you as you are, as he said, it will not hurt you to learn some of those potions by heart. Pomona also thinks that repetition is not a bad thing for her subject."

"Wait, you talked about this with them already? Did you… you didn't tell them that I-"

"Time travelled? No. But the ease that you have shown in your classes speaks for itself. Of course, this was an informal meeting without the Headmaster or Dolores," he added casually. 

Harry sunk into his seat, "I am not a genius."

"No, but you deserve a challenge. I know you have been studying on your own, but being in an advanced class, in the long run, will be easier than doing busy work and then practicing without someone to help you," Flitwick said. "Repetition seemed to be the take away for most of your professors. Minerva seemed to think that three courses most advisable for you to advance in are Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense. For obvious reasons, Defense isn't an option, however, the time in which you have Transfiguration with the fifth years is the time I have my sixth year Ravenclaw class. You could start your NEWTs next year in Charms and for your seventh year, as we have discussed, you could be my teaching assistant."

Harry's heart pounded. It sounded too good to be true. He had never loved classwork before but lately, schoolwork was the only thing keeping him sane. Learning was fun, was interesting, was so much better than wallowing about things that he had no power over. Yet, "Hermione-"

"Ms. Granger is a brilliant student, inquisitive and highly capable, however, though she appears to learn quickly that is due to a great deal of hard work. You are advancing with minimal effort. You have been studying books that are beyond your grade."

"So does Hermione," Harry argued.

"Ms. Granger is not reading advanced theory nor is she reading spell books that have little to no explanation. Don't think that us teachers don't keep track of the titles of the books our students are carrying around. Harry, you have been reading things well beyond what most at Hogwarts or adults of any age pick up. Ms. Granger is reading textbooks, you are reading theoretical studies and field journals. Your essays also show an interaction and deeper understanding than Ms. Granger's re-iteration of lessons.

“You are correct, you are not a genius. In time Ms. Granger may advance and excel in many different branches of magic most will never have cause to be introduced to. But you, Harry, are a creative person with an immense amount of power and an innate connection to magic that is, in a word, incredible. Having the benefit of age, you are in time of your life to expand your horizons and the conviction.

“You didn't think Severus gave you an Outstanding on an essay willingly, did you?"

Harry shook his head and said stubbornly, "I am not a genius, I am just older."

"Harry," Flitwick said kindly. "You are and have always been, gifted magically. Ms. Granger is an extremely intelligent girl because she handles learning by asking why and how is a thing possible. The problem with that is that she avoids uncertainties, yes, there may always be a why and how in magic but much remains undiscovered. But what you have been asking this year is what is possible, and pushing yourself to see how far you can go. You have let neither failures nor the unknown stop you. 

“You- well, spellwork clicks with you. You have an excellent handle on theory when you put your mind to it, and more than that, you also understand how to get from action back to theory. Lily was very good with that and no one ever doubted James's raw talent. It appears you received the best from both of them."

Harry looked away, unable to control his expression at the mention of his parents.

Flitwick continued, "You are not the first student to pass through Hogwarts with the offer to do advanced studies, nor will you be the last. We would have offered it to both Sirius and James had they been more serious students, or even Lily had she been less social. Luna Lovegood's mother, Pandora Lovegood, was advanced in Potions and Charms. Andromeda Tonks graduated with seven NEWTs in her sixth year. Other students, such as Tom Riddle or even Albus Dumbledore declined their ability to advance for social reasons. Harry, in light of what you have been through, I think this change, these opportunities, will make you happier in the long run."

Harry squeezed his hands in his lap. He wasn't happy right now. He was bored and annoyed and stressed and sad and he did want change. He was sick of living in the past. Well, he liked having everyone alive, and for once being ahead of Voldemort, but he was sick of pretending to be fifteen. 

"Alright, yeah, so NEWTs for Transfiguration and with the sixth years for your class. Though, I think it should be the other way around."

Flitwick smiled, "Minerva wants you to rise to the occasion. Although, personally, I believe she hopes that you will help to keep the twins in line."

Harry snorted, "No one keeps the twins in line."

"You should know that I told Minerva about your talking to me. She knows I know about Sirius. Nothing about the time travel, just about some of the changes in your personal and academic life. She believes that I am your confidant."

"You are my confidant," Harry said.

"Apparently, not one you trust enough to talk about what happened this weekend with," Flitwick shrewdly.

Harry winced. "I had my first Occlumency class with Snape Friday night."

Flitwick went very still, "What did he see?"

"My death, my deaths, and what happened in the in-between."

Flitwick tilted his head to the side, "How do you mean?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Voldemort hitting me with the killing curse."

"So Severus knows you are from the future."

"Nope," Harry said. "At first that's what we saw. And then there was this white mist and Dumbledore said something about what's in your head being real but then I was in Godric's Hollow, in the old house and I was a baby. I was sitting in a misty white living room and my parents- they- my parents were…"

Harry couldn’t finish it, which was stupid, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

oOo

Filius's mind whirled, "The first time? You remembered the first time you were struck by the killing curse?"

That was a horrifying revelation. 

"I remembered the first time I died," Harry managed to choke out, voice cracking.

"Oh Harry-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry interrupted. "Please just don't make me talk about it anymore."

"Of course," Filius immediately conceded. "Is there anything you need?"

"Sirius,” Harry blurted. “I really just want to see Sirius- he would know- I guess he, I don't know..." Harry shook his head, hiding his face in his hands.

"He's your godfather and he loves you as you love him," Filius said softly, his heart breaking all over again for this child. "And he loves you and he knows your parents. I will talk to Minerva and see if there is anything that can be arranged."

"No one else gets to see their parents in the school year," Harry pointed. "I don't want to be special."

"Harry," Filius sighed, wondering how anyone (Severus) had ever described him as spoiled. "No other student was purposely pitted against a Dark Lord with a terrorist following since your birth and made to fight him as eleven year old and nearly every proceeding year afterwards. I don't think being permitted to see your guardian over a weekend for emotional trauma would be considered coddling."

Harry's mouth quicked, "Yeah, suppose you're right. It is just, last time I didn't really get to know him, I mean I loved him, love him, and he was there in a way that nobody else had been… But then he was gone and it was my fault."

"It was not your fault."

Harry set his expression, not arguing but not agreeing.

Filius shook his head, "Perhaps this is a conversation you must have with him then. I feel as though Sirius's death is more real to you than Sirius himself. If you make your memory and the real person confront, now that you have had time to settle some, you may be better able to handle this reality."

The child blinked at him, "Did anybody ever tell you that you're pretty wise?"

Filius smirked, "My dear, I am Head of Ravenclaw House."

oOo

Harry found Luna after dinner to ask if he could owl her father about a question he had.

She nodded.

"Thanks," Harry said.

As he began to turn, Luna caught his hand, "Harry?"

He stopped and faced her fully, "Yes, Luna?"

Her pale eyes seemed to take all of him in, "Are we friends?"

Harry was not sure what compelled him, maybe it was because in all that was happening, and Luna, Luna Lovegood, was the one solid presence in his life. The one person he didn't bother to think about who he was around because it wouldn't matter to her if he was from the future or not, it just mattered that he was Harry. 

So it was with bravery that he did not know he possessed, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, "Friends, forever and always." 

She stared at him, her eyes as round as moons.

Smiling, Harry headed for the owlery to write some letters.

oOo

Luna watched him go, a hand pressed to her cheek. Her heart was racing, how peculiar.

Unbeknownst to her, she was smiling; Harry Potter was her first friend ever and according to him, they would be friends forever and always.

She didn't notice the people giggling at her expression, as they pointed and whispered, she didn't notice the little creatures swirling around their heads, she didn't notice much of anything as she went in the direction of the Astronomy tower. She would be early, but she wouldn't mind, the stars were good company when your being was swelling with joy.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, Uncommon Welsh Greens, or feedback, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: Me reading old me’s author notes and laughing at the lack of regard I now have for canon or timelines.

Timelines! *chuckles* That’s some funny shit right there.

"I enjoyed the meetings, too. It was like having friends."

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Chapter 11 - A Question of Love

Dear Mr. Lovegood,

Hi, I'm Luna's friend, Harry. I hope this letter finds you well.

I wasn't really sure how to start this letter or how to ask this question but I don't know who else to ask. I think you've heard of the three Hallows from the Beedle the Bard story. I was curious about the Resurrection Stone. If I were to theoretically use it and if I were, theoretically, to see my loved ones, do you think it would really show me my loved ones? I mean do you think my parents or godfather would encourage me to walk to my death even if my death may lead to the Dark Lord's death?

I was wondering if you might have any thoughts on the matter. Thank you for reading and thank you for answering if you decide to.

Warmest Regards,

Harry Potter

oOo

Harry looked down at the letter he had written. It sounded crazy nor was it particularly subtle, and yes, it was probably a question better phrased to Sirius, but Sirius might lie to spare Harry's feelings. 

He was betting that Xenophilius might be more interested in the metaphysical aspect of his question than the emotions behind it.

"Hedwig, this is a very dangerous time to be delivering mail, but I am not sure how else to send it," Harry told her as he petted her white feathered head.

She glared at him reproachfully, offended that he thought she couldn't deliver mail.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry chided. "You got injured in the last timeline. Umbridge went after you. You have to be careful."

She stuck her leg out at him. She hooted, demanding he give her the letter.

Harry sighed and tied the letter to her leg, "Be careful, Hedwig, you are beautiful and people can spot you easily. I'll never forgive myself if you get hurt coming back, again."

She nipped his finger, hooted her goodbye then flew out the window.

Harry watched her go, nerves clenching his stomach.

oOo

Father sent me a watercolor painting of a firebug underwater.

Orange and blue.

I sent him back a drawing of a goldfish I made in history class.

Orange and black.

He liked Harry's handwriting. He said that it looks like twigs. Good twigs.

1st of October 1995

L.L.

oOo

"Hermione, Ron, I need to talk to you about something," Harry started.

They were sitting in the common room and the conversation, predictably, didn't go well

 Once Harry told them about his advancing into the upper year classes, Hermione ran up to her room.

"Why?" Ron asked sadly.

"I need a change," Harry said, his heart aching, he didn't want to lose Hermione's friendship.

"Why?" Ron repeated.

Harry thought about telling him the truth. Giving Ron the chance to be the good person Harry knew that he was. But Harry couldn't, he would rather have Ron and Hermione hate him than have them know the truth.

Because if they did know the truth and the distance remained between them it would kill something inside of him.

"Why can't you just be happy for me?" Harry asked instead of answering.

"Because the Harry I knew wouldn't blow off Quidditch practice or hurt Hermione's feelings," Ron said.

"If you are talking about this weekend it was because of Snape," Harry defended. This he could tell Ron.

"And what did Snape do to make flying a broom seem like not the best place to be? You were supposed to have time after your lesson with him."

Harry felt his jaw tighten, "He got inside my head and I remembered getting hit with the killing curse."

Ron's eyes widened, "What?"

"I saw it, I remembered, and I didn't live like everybody thinks. The killing curse did kill me, I just didn't stay dead."

"How?" Ron asked. "How is that even possible?"

"Magic?" Harry supplied, because he didn't have another answer.

"Not even magic can bring back the dead, Harry," Ron told him.

"Then how am I still alive?"

"Because you're Harry Potter."

But they both knew that wasn't an answer, Harry was nobody, he was only somebody because whatever his mother did had blown Voldemort apart and not allowed Harry to pass on to the other side.

oOo

Hermione didn't talk to Harry for the remainder of the week and though Ron wasn't mad at him, he stayed close to Hermione's side.

On Thursday, Harry entered the Ravenclaw charms class and Cho descended on him. Fifteen minutes into the class Harry was immensely regretting sitting with Cho and Marietta. Marietta seemed to hate him still and Cho, well Cho would giggle at everything and anything he said. She also kept touching his arm.

Fate was cruel, when he was fifteen her very presence had made his stomach flutter. Now? All he wanted to do was shove her off her seat.

He wasn't sure of a polite way to get her to leave him alone. In fact, the more distant he got with her the more she persisted.

"Harry, you're so good-"

The bell cut her off and Harry made a break for the door. The class itself was enjoyable, he knew these spells but he had yet to perfect them. As Harry went to his Arithmancy he sighed in relief when he sat down at their table.

Astoria and Susan were already there.

"What happened to you?" Astoria asked, eyeing him warily.

More nicely, Susan commented, "You look ruffled."

Harry ran a hand through his hair in agitation, "Cho Chang."

"She's pretty," Susan remarked. "I can't believe she broke up with Cedric though."

Harry winced, "Did she break up with him or did Cedric break up with her?"

"Why would you ask that?" Astoria asked.

"Because," Harry said, "she is bloody annoying. I thought she was shy but noooo- she has to be nearly as clingy as Lavender Brown."

"Lavender isn't clingy and she hates you," Susan said smiling.

Harry bit his cheek, nobody had seen Lavender go out with Ron yet. "How do you get a girl to leave you alone without hurting their feelings?" he asked.

"Telling someone you want them to leave you alone does hurt people's feelings," Luna said as she took her seat across from Harry. "It implies loneliness."

"I don't want Cho to be hurt, I just want her to stop flirting with me," Harry mumbled.

"She can't be that hard to avoid," Astoria remarked. "You what, see her at meals, the halls, and BC? It's not like you have to share a full class with her."

He ducked his head, "I do now, actually."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"I switched into Flitwick's sixth year charms class and into McGonagall's seventh year class."

"Congratulations!" Luna praised, smiling and not so much clapped as patted her hands together. It was an energetic gesture without the noise.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, a tightness in his chest easing.

Susan and Astoria followed Luna's lead.

"Yeah, Harry," Susan congratulated. "It is quite an achievement. Students rarely get to advance."

"I was advanced in Arithmancy," Astoria pointed out, "Of course, this is my favorite subject."

"Really?" Susan asked dryly. "You don't seem to enjoy yourself much."

"It's all butterflies and rainbows on the inside, Bones," Astoria replied stoically.

Susan rolled her eyes, "What did Hermione and Ron say to you about switching out of their classes to advance?"

"Ron thinks I am being selfish to hurt Hermione's feelings," Harry said.

Astoria and Susan snorted in unison.

"What?" he asked.

"Ron Weasley being emotionally sensitive?" Susan repeated.

"The irony runs deep, Potter," Astoria said.

"You don't even know him," Harry said to the younger Slytherin.

"Everyone knows Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," Susan stated.

"You say it like they're the famous ones," Harry remarked.

"They are famous because you are," Luna said wistfully.

"They are also louder than you are," Susan pointed out.

Astoria answered Harry's confused expression, "You're so quiet but everyone is always watching and listening to you. Yet typically all we hear is what Granger and Weasley say or have to say about you. The whole school only knows you through them, well, aside from your performances on the Quidditch pitch and the end of year stories about the Dark Lord, dementors, and Basilisks. Last year with the dragon was the first time we as a group saw you in action, naturally, you were on a broom again."

Harry really wanted to say 'You should see what happens in the next three years,' but settled for, "You're saying the whole school just knows me through secondary sources."

"Sometimes 37th, some of the books they published before you got to Hogwarts were quite outrageous, Father published a few articles that discredited many of the books printed about you," Luna pronounced.

"Well if a Lovegood says a book is made up you know the thing is worthless," Astoria said, face set.

Harry couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

"Harry, the thing we are all trying to say is that you're famous but nobody knows you personally or even outwardly because you are pretty shy," Susan explained.

The Chosen One, Harry flinched at the thought, famous for my parents being murdered. Chosen for slaughter, to be the martyr so others might live on and win the day.

And nobody knew me, just the Boy Who Lived, and the martyr.

"Harry," Luna called softly, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts.

Susan touched his shoulder and he startled so hard he nearly fell off his cushion.

"Where is the Professor?" Harry asked, trying to cover up his reaction as he resettled in his seat. Harry looked around him, "And where are the rest of the students?"

"Class was canceled today," Astoria informed him.

"Professor Vector had to go see her sister for some reason," Susan added.

Harry blinked, "So what are we doing here?"

"The three of us thought it would be a good time to have our study group that you mentioned," Luna said, still focusing on him with the full weight of her awareness.

"Oh," Harry said. "Okay, um, guess it is as good a time as any. Where do you guys want to start? All three of you know more than me so I can't really teach this subject."

Astoria grinned, "The teacher shall become the pupil."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, "Why does that sound like a threat?"

Luna giggled.

"Harry?" Susan interrupted, "What did Hermione say about you moving ahead of her?"

"She hasn't said anything yet," Harry answered.

"She doesn't know how else to be," Luna said gently.

"What are you babbling about?" Astoria snipped.

"Hermione, she doesn't know her worth other than to be the smartest, without the books she doesn't think she's worth much. She's wrong, she just doesn't know it yet," Luna explained.

"Hermione's brilliant," Harry defended.

"So are you," Susan said.

"Hermione has saved my life more than once."

"And in time she'll understand that your friendship means more to her than her abilities," Luna consoled, meeting Harry's gaze with a kindness that made Harry's heart clench.

A little strained, he said, "Guess we better get started with the Arithmancy homework?"

The three girls smiled -in Astoria's case smirked, and pulled out their books. The group of four did indeed get their homework, along with figuring out how to charge a numbered circle. At this rate, Professor Vector might have to advance all of them as the joint effort of a student from each house offered a potent measure of magical potential.

oOo

Dear, Dearest Mister Harry James Potter,

I cannot express how pleased I am to hear from you nor how happy I am that you are friends with my Luna.

As to your inquiries, there are many theories but I will share with you the one I feel to be most worthy of thought.

Say the Beedle the Bard is the complete tale.

The Elder Wand was powerful enough to defeat any but Death himself. Yet the way such a wand was passed on was through the murdering of the original owner. Humans, magical and non-magical alike are prone to killing each other, mostly out of greed. Unless the wielder of the Elder Wand could remain awake all the time and knew enough to use the wand, the owner would eventually be killed, as power without the means to use it is without purpose. So Death was able to guarantee the early demise of anyone who owns such a wand, hence why it is sometimes referred to as the Death Stick. Death, because it brings death, Stick because what is, a wand that cannot be wielded, leaving it a fancy stick. The power of the wand does not define the power of the wielder.

The Invisibility Cloak is by far the most usable of the Hallows, its safety in use relies on the factor that Death thought that no one would hide under a blanket for the rest of eternity just to escape him. Afterall, what is a life worth if you live it in hiding? It spared Ignotus from an early death but it never posed much of a concern for ‘defeating’ death. One way or another, death finds us in the end. Or we find Death ourselves.

The Resurrection Stone is in all likelihood the most twisted of the Hallows. It offers the promise of regaining what can never be regained, not in this life. Some say it brings back the dead, but I rather think it shows us a glimpse into Death's realm. Our loved ones may be waiting for us, but we know that they cannot be in our world again as they were once. Ghosts are mere shadows of the people they were in life. A ghost is little better than a painting.

Yet I believe that the Resurrection Stone cannot even do that much. The stone doesn't bring people back, not even as ghosts. The Stone uses our memories and our imaginations to create phantoms who will say and do anything to bring us to Death willingly. Like drinking deep of sweet poison, the second brother was made to kill himself. It was the price for asking the impossible and attempting to take from Death what can never be taken back.

I am not sure if you have encountered the Hallows or not. I would advise that you not use the stone if you have it. But I shall not make assumptions of my daughter's friends, though I will end this letter with a final thought.

The symbols of the three Hallows; the triangle, the line, and the circle together is not a symbol of mastering Death as many have come to believe. Rather it is a symbol of overcoming the fear of death, overcoming the fear of physical pain, and overcoming the desire to live without loss. The Hallows serve as a lesson that we can never master Death, but that we may come to master ourselves.

I wish you all the very best, Harry. Do treat my daughter well.

Yours Truly,

Xenophilius Lovegood

P.S. Burn this letter so the Nargles don't get it.

oOo

Harry kissed the top of Hedwig's head. She was uninjured, Thank Merlin. Harry had nearly panicked when she had come to him in his Astronomy class.

He was currently cuddling her on his lap as he reread the letter for the dozenth time that night by the fireplace.

Harry hadn't known Hedwig liked to cuddle this much but since returning to the past Hedwig seemed to feel his need for closeness. Though thinking back to Susan's light touch on his arm and Cho's bothersome proximity in Charm's class, maybe closeness was a selective thing.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of Xenophilius's words. Though in all honesty, the man's reasoning was a hundred per cent more logical than Dumbledore's explanation of love when Harry had asked how he had survived the killing curse. It was extremely logical that the phrase "Master of Death" was a metaphor. Yet Harry wondered about his time travelling when he had technically owned all three Hallows and used none of them when the end had come.

End.

What end was there for Harry? He had died twice and his spirit/soul whatever had been brought back three years in the past after his second death to re-live everything. Though he wasn't exactly re-living, he was just living, everything was changing whether he was moving forward in 1998 or 1995. He was still moving forward.

It wasn't an answer exactly, but Harry felt better about the time travel with that thought, that yes he had and yes he was changing things that were beyond his knowledge. There was comfort in the unknown, as long as the unknown didn't include Voldemort coming back to full power or Death Eaters breaking out of prison.

Harry sighed and reread the letter.

If Xenophilius was right, then the people who had emerged from the stones were not his parents, not Sirius, they were reflections of Harry's deepest fears and desires.

Hadn't his boggart turned into his mother? His beautiful mother who he would never know, hadn't she beckoned him to join her, to die?

Was Harry afraid to die? Or was he afraid he wanted to die? Or was what he feared most of all was that the woman who had given her life for his, the mother who had loved him more than anything else in this world, wanted him dead too? 

That was not an answer Xenophilius had kindly provided. Harry realised that no matter how many times he looked over the logical letter, there was nothing more Harry could glean from it. He wanted Hermione to read it, he wanted her opinion, but she had taken one look at him sitting in the common room and fled to her room. Even if Harry asked Ginny to go get her or even if he took his broom and went up himself, Harry doubted Hermione would want to help him right now.

With one last glance at the letter, he threw the parchment into the fire.

Hedwig hooted and hopped onto his shoulder, biting his ear before nuzzling his cheek.

Silly bird, Harry thought with a grin, as he lifted a hand to rub below her beak.

oOo

Remus Lupin was watching Sirius Black closely as the man re-read his godson's letter over and over again.

"Is it a very long letter?" Remus finally asked after nearly two hours.

"No," Sirius said, before turning and slamming the letter on the table. "No, it is not a very long letter, in fact, it is a very short letter." With one hand he pulled on his long curls.

"May I?" Remus asked.

"Go ahead," Sirius said. "There is nothing in it."

Remus pulled the letter forward, "Sirius, this is two full pages."

"I don't care if it were a hundred paged letter. There's nothing in it."

Remus read the first paragraph.

I talked with Dumbledore, he says I should make up with Ron and Hermione. We haven't hung out lately. I got moved up in Flitwick’s sixth class and moved up two years in Transfiguration. However, I think I am stronger in Charms.

The rest of the letter detailed his classes.

"Sirius," Remus slowly, "there is a lot of information in this letter."

"No," he said. "It's empty, impersonal."

"He talked to Dumbledore."

"Yes, and what did he write about it? What did he have to say about the old man who he was practically afraid of and seemed to detest this summer? That Dumbledore wanted him to be closer to his two best friends? What's wrong with them that Dumbledore felt the need to step in? What did Harry detail about his classes? The types of spells and the number of essays he's doing? Nothing about how he feels or his friends or anything of any substance. Something is wrong, Remus."

"Sirius," Remus cajoled, "You're reading too much into this."

"No, I'm not," Sirius growled.

"Harry is a strong-"

"He's Lily, Remus. Harry is exactly like his mother, if a bit more forgiving."

"I thought you had placed him as James's replacement."

"No one can replace James. And I thought you said he had Lil's kindness."

"He does but he's as prone to danger as James was," Remus reasoned.

"James sought out danger," Sirius corrected. "Harry doesn't, well not to make trouble like we did anyway. Besides, Lily was just as prone to danger."

"No, she wasn't. Lily always played it safe."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "She was a muggle-born whose best friend was a Death Eater. Safe my shaggy rear-end. She didn't get close to you until after James told her you were a werewolf."

"That's not true, she figured it out-"

"No, she didn't. We didn't just smuggle you out at night when it was the night of the full moon. Unlike your teaching miss adventures, in school, we were sneaking out all the time, not just for your time of the month."

"But my sickness-"

"James told her in our fourth year we used you to practice potions on you."

Remus blinked, "She believed you?"

"Did she believe James and I would do something so dangerous and stupid? Of course she did," Sirius said.

Remus shook his head, "What does any of this have to do with Harry?"

"James used to complain about Lily doing this all the time. When she was really upset she would hide behind work and research."

"She was in the Order right after Hogwarts and was a stay at home mom soon enough after that. She wouldn't have much time to research."

Sirius huffed a laugh, "Research was what Lily did for the Order, Moony. Apparently, before sixth year Snivellus showed her some pretty dark or at least ancient texts. She got a taste for it."

"I am good at research," Remus said quietly.

"You were also good in a fight and are a werewolf, Dumbledore has a soft spot for muggleborns, he was protective of her."

"Not as much as James was," Remus said.

"Of course not, and that was a part of Lily being reserved for research, James would have been useless if he had to worry about Lily on the battlefield, her skill with a wand aside."

"Lily and James were excellent duellists, yet Voldemort was able to tear them down."

Sirius's shoulders tightened to the point of aching, "They didn't have their wands, I don't know why but I didn't see them there. Yet it was Lily's magic that crippled the bastard."

"It was Harry-"

Sirius snorted, "Don't tell me you bought into that rubbish? The Dark Lord defeated by a baby? Please, plenty of mothers have died for their babes at wand point and the babes have died after them all the same. No, Lily was a master in Charms and in Arithmancy, whatever magic she used spared Harry and blew Voldemort to pieces."

Remus was quiet for a long while.

Sirius paced back and forth in front of the firelight.

"What do you think is wrong with Harry?" Remus asked finally.

Sirius sagged to the carpet and put his back against a wall of shelves. "I don't know, Moony, but I have to see him soon. I think he needs me."

"You need him," Remus said softly.

Sirius closed his eyes, images of Lily's towering temper and radiant warmth, James's boisterous laugh and his pleased yet nervous expression every time he held Harry in his arms appeared just out of reach in his mind's eye. And Harry, little Harry whose second word after Mamo had been Pad-oo; Padfoot. The child who Sirius had seen for the first time in thirteen years had been running away from home, whose fear never outweighed his compassion. The boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Harry, who wanted to be loved as much as he was extraordinarily able to love others. The person who had pulled Sirius out of the darkness.

"Yeah, I do need him."

oOo

AN: Thoughts, spotted dolphins, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: I can’t fix chapter 13 on my phone, it’s a wreck and needs councilling and to be blown up by a keyboard. But Italy is still amazing, this is art historian’s wet dream, and truly mean that as I walked ten miles yesterday in the rain. #worthit 

P.S. The Milano Duomo is epic and the Milan Natural History Museum is seriously underrated, it was smaller than the one in London but I enjoyed it more.

KEYNote: There are very intelligent young people around the world of great maturity which regrettably, usually comes with a cost. That is true for both Luna and Harry. In this story, Harry is physically and mentally fifteen with extra memories much like a vision. The reason I scale him ahead is because he has Dumbledore level power he never leaned into and he has a new perspective. He is fifteen in this though.

Chapter 12 - The Forbidden Forest

Nargles.

Nargles are after my things. My shoes are gone. All my shoes are gone. And my purple ink with the orange feathered quill. I don't understand what I did to make them so mad.

3rd October 1995

L.L.

oOo

Harry was sitting with the twins at breakfast Saturday morning when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

Turning, a smile bloomed on his face when he saw who it was, "Hi Luna."

She smiled hesitantly in return. "Hi Harry, I was wondering if you might want to spend time with me today."

"Sure," Harry agreed immediately, rising from his seat and ignoring the twins sniggering behind him.

"You should finish eating," she chided.

Harry stuffed the rest of his toast in his mouth and pocketed an apple. He gave her a thumbs up.

She grinned and snagging the cuff of his sleeve led him out of the great hall.

Once they were clear of the tables, however, Harry jerked to a stop.

"Luna, your shoes," Harry said, frowning at her bare toes on the cold stones.

"Nargles took them," she said tugging on his sleeve. "Come on, let's go."

Harry turned scanning the room for Flitwick. Harry had been reading this morning and hadn't gone down to breakfast early as he usually did.

"Flitwick must be in his office already. He grades in the mornings," Harry said, taking Luna's hand in turn and leading her towards the second floor.

He cast a warming charm on her feet which had her smiling again.

The moment they were out of sight of the great hall, Luna yanked her hand out of his, "Professor Flitwick will not be able to help against Nargles."

Harry spun to face her, angry, just not at her. "Luna it isn't Nargles-"

"You don't believe me," she said, face falling. She took a step back from him.

"Wait, Luna, just listen. I got bullied in school all the time before I came to Hogwarts, I got my cousins hand me downs. I was this tiny kid in clothes three to five times too big for me with shaggy hair and broken glasses. my cousin would beat up anyone who wanted to be nice to me. I know what it feels like to be the odd one out."

Luna raised her chin, "I know what they call me behind my back, Loony Lovegood. But it is Nargles stealing my shoes."

"And why would Nargles steal your shoes? You told me they live in mistletoe. Besides, don't you guard your things with corks?"

Luna blinked at him, "I never told you either of those things, though it is true."

Harry shook his head, "Luna, please believe me that this isn't Nargles stealing your stuff. Let's go tell Flitwick. He'll stop this."

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "He can't stop the Nargles."

Harry huffed and began heading towards the next flight of stairs.

"Where are you going?" she asked, trailing behind.

"I am going to go get your shoes back. If you don't want to ask Flitwick for help then I will go get your things back myself."

"You don't know where my dorm is," she said, following him, her bare feet padding against the stone floors.

"Luna, the seasons are only going to get colder, this is a cruel prank," Harry said, not slowing down a bit. "So help the people who did this when I get a hold of them."

"You don't know the password."

"Neither do you because it changes every time," Harry shot back.

They reached Ravenclaw. Luna was unhappy. Either Harry was wrong and he should have trusted her or she was wrong and her housemates hated her enough to steal her things.

Harry waited for the knocker to ask its question as Luna watched him closely.

"Who are you?" The knocker asked.

Harry said the first thing that came to mind, "A soul who has existed tomorrow and exists today but is unlikely to exist forever."

The door swung open.

Luna's mouth popped open in a small 'O' of surprise.

Harry strode right into the Ravenclaw common room.

"Harry?" Cho asked.

"You don't belong here," Marietta protested.

Ginny's boyfriend, Michael Cornic sat up from the chair he had been resting on. "Potter? How did you get in here?"

"Loony Lovegood, must have let him get in," snarled a fourth year girl.

Harry whipped his wand out, and he snarled right back at her, "Don't you dare call her that!" 

The pressure in the air around the room seemed to change.

"Harry," Luna said softly as she approached him from behind. "You really shouldn't be here."

"I don't care, nobody hurts my friends."

"I'm not hurt," she insisted.

Harry's eyes flicked to her blue ones, the pressure in the room lessening. His expression softened and Harry flicked his wand, non-verbally accio-ing Luna's shoes.

There was a rattling from both sides of the girls' and boys' dorm rooms. Five pairs of shoes lined themselves neatly at Luna's feet.

Luna looked like she might cry.

Softly Harry asked, "Are you missing anything else?"

Luna's jaw set. Steely resolve overcame her normally whimsical demeanour as she listed off, "One earring (with beetle wings), A pair of stripey socks, a school cloak, a red-black-white quill -woodpecker, with special markings, an orange quill, two bottles of sum-solving ink (Turquoise and purple), a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, and my last potions essay."

Each item came to rest at the pile at her feet. The orange quill was pulled from Marietta's pocket, the bottles of sum-solving ink coming out of the fourth year's pocket, and the potion's essay unfolded itself from Michael's textbook that had been resting on the side table next to him.

oOo

Luna was so angry, so hurt she didn't know how to be. 

Harry had been right.

"Well, obviously," Marietta sneered. "Potter planted those things so he could impress you. He's just pretending to be your friend so he ca-"

Luna's stunning spell hit the sixth year girl so fast and so unexpectedly that everyone, aside from Harry and Luna herself, jumped at the loud bang and the sound of Marietta dropping to the floor unable to catch herself.

Aside from the quills, Harry bent down and shrunk all of Luna's possessions. He carefully gathered her things, before handing them to her. "I'll wait here for you to put your stuff away. I don't think anyone is going to try to steal your things anymore." The words were kind but the look Harry gave the occupants of the room was anything but.

Nodding too rapidly, Luna took her things and sprinted up the stairs.

She held back her tears for later.

oOo

"Harry, I didn't have anything to do-" Cho started the moment Luna left.

"I don't want to hear it, Chang," Harry snapped.

She looked crestfallen. She knelt by Marietta, checking to see if she was alright.

"You're not going to tell Ginny, are you?" Michael asked him.

"It's Hogwarts, Michael, secrets always have a way of coming out."

Luna came back down the steps, wearing shoes.

She didn't wait for Harry as she stormed out of the common room.

It was Harry's turn to follow silently. Luna's pace was quick as she left the castle. Harry watched the wind play with her long curls. His pulse increased when he saw that they were headed for the Forbidden Forest. It became harder to breathe as they crossed into the line of dark tall trees. The last time he came here, he'd been walking to his death.

"Luna?" He winced at the tremor in his own voice.

Harry knew these woods almost as well as Hagrid, it wasn't the woods he feared, it was the memories.

But Luna didn't stop until they reached the herd of the Thestrals.

A foal pranced up to her and headbutted her hip.

Harry was relieved it wasn't the same clearing that he had died in but he wasn't exactly happy to be there.

Swallowing his emotions he asked, "Luna, Luna, come on, look at me, are you alright?"

"Why do they hate me?" she asked, she petted the black foal's head.

"They don't hate you," Harry consoled. “They don’t know you well enough to hate you.”

She whipped her head towards him, her pale blue eyes had darkened to a stormy blue-grey.

Harry had never seen her eyes look like that, angry or something more profound, something that contradicted how she understood herself.

"If they don't hate me then why do they call me names and steal my things?"

Harry stepped closer to her, "You have to know someone to hate them, or at least to hate you personally."

She stroked the foal's reptilian wing, "Then why?"

"Because they are small minded people who take comfort in the norms even if the norms are mean or stupid."

"Why?"

"Because it's easy, or at least easier than trying to understand someone not like them." Harry reached out to hold her hand, partially for her comfort and partly for his own. He never wanted to return here alone.

She frowned at him, "You don't like being here."

Harry shrugged, "Thestrals are cool."

"But you don't like being in the forest,” she stated.

He shrugged again, "I wouldn't like to come here by myself." He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Luna, I am sorry people are mean to you."

"They aren't always nice to you either. I don't like the Daily Prophet, they have no right to talk about students."

Harry gave her a half smile, "The magical world is the first place I was ever able to make friends."

"Hermione and Ron haven't been nice lately."

"It's not their fault. I changed a lot over the summer. Anyway, it gave me the chance to get to know new people."

"I am not new, you know me. You knew me before the summer."

Harry gave her a sceptical look, unsure of how much she really knew. He wanted to ask, he wouldn't even mind telling her the whole story, but not right now, not in this place. "Hedwig was my first friend."

"You're mine," she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back.

They spent the rest of the day in the forest with the Thestrals. Luna introduced Harry to each one, telling him their names and some of their traits. Like Sando, who was one of the largest male Thestrals -the females being naturally bigger. Sando liked to fly up to one of the higher branches and hold onto a branch with his muzzle and let his weight drag the tree down before releasing it like a catapult. The sound was immense and flocks of birds would sore up into the air, followed by the young Thestrals who would soar up to go after the songbirds.

The longer Harry spent here the more at ease he became in the forest. By the time the light was growing dim, Harry had completely forgotten that he was in the Forbidden Forest. A part of this was because he was laughing too hard watching Luna play tag with skeletal horses and listening to her splendidly over-the-top laughter.

When they got back to the great hall for dinner, Luna sat at the Gryffindor table between Harry and Angelina. Her own table wouldn't look at them.

Lee Jordan leaned over to tell Harry, "Flitwick gave every student in his house detention who knew about Luna's stolen items. Nobody fessed up so he gave detention to every student in the fourth, fifth, and sixth years. They will be spending the rest of the weekend cleaning his classroom, Sprout's, McGonagall's, and Snape's classrooms."

"Good," Harry said shortly.

"I always wondered what Flitwick's detentions would be like," Fred mused.

"I am so glad we didn't have to find out first-hand. Snape is awful but cleaning Sprout's classroom, as in every greenhouse, would be the worst," George said.

"Hey, we've never gotten a detention from Sprout either!" Fred said jubilantly.

"There's still time," Susan said from behind them.

"Hey little Bones," George greeted.

"How are you?" Fred asked, putting his chin in his hands, elbows on the table.

"Fine. Can I sit here tonight?" she asked.

Angelina moved down a seat and Susan sat beside Luna, "How are you?"

"I'm good," Luna said honestly.

Susan's expression was hard, "Let me know if there is anyone you want me to hex. Never mess with a Hufflepuff's friend."

Luna stared at the darker haired girl, "You're my friend?"

"Course," she answered. "I wouldn't be angry if we weren't."

Luna's smile could have outshone the sun.

oOo

The trees stretched towards the pale sky like the silhouettes of hundreds of cloaked people with their fingers desperately seeking the light.

As if in despair those shadows folded downwards, incapable of even hoping for the rays of the sun, leaving Harry in the dimness of the forest like he had been that night he had gone searching for unicorns.

A silver light eliminated the space around him. Harry spun on his heels trying to make sense of where he was and the shadowed shapes darting between the trees.

"Dad!" he called, seeing the outline of a rack of antlers.

Harry began running, his feet bare against the cool ground, he was assaulted by the sensation of damp moss between his toes and the sharp pain of roots and fallen sticks cutting into his skin.

"Dad!" Harry called again.

The stag didn't slow but Harry was gaining on the buck's white tail.

A doe cut in front of him and Harry tripped, falling over a downed log. His hand sank through a rotten trunk.

"Wait!" Harry yelled, yanking his arm out of the dead tree. "Wait! Dad! Snape! Wait, don't leave me here!" He got up. Ignoring the pain, he ran blindly through the foliage, his cheeks scraping against branches he could not see until they were too close to avoid. He kept running and running until he heard a laugh.

Harry jerked to a stop, trying to hold his breath, barely able to hear over his own gasping and his racing pulse.

The laugh came again, followed by a happy bark.

"Sirius!" Harry called, desperate. "Sirius, I'm here!"

"But you're not with us."

Slowly, Harry turned to the voice, to the person he knew would be standing behind him.

She stood tall, a mere yard away from him. She was solid, real. Her hair colour was lit by the light of the rising moon, setting it to glimmer like some exotic orange jewel. His mother smiled at him, her face full of love and acceptance.

"Come, my son," Lily offered, her pale hand held out to him. In three simple words, she offered him the promise of respite, of forgiveness, of peace, and of belonging.

He took a step towards her, reaching out his own hand to hers. But that one step shifted the world around him.

The Stag and the Doe who had been circling them in Harry's peripheral vision disappeared, the absence of their silver spheres of light making Harry realise for the first time that they had been patronuses not animagi like he had originally assumed.

The woman standing before him changed as well, her emerald eyes flashing a demonic red, her smile growing cold and dangerous.

"Bow to Death, Harry." It was his mother's voice but not her words. Her proffered hand was no longer empty, the Resurrection Stone sat inertly in her palm.

The trees around them blackened, morphed and the icy chill that filled the air alerted Harry to what was about to happen. Dementors, hundreds, thousands of Dementors emerged from the void around them.

Lily began screaming. The scream that she had done at the end, right before-

"NO!" Harry screamed, louder than he had ever said anything.

White.

The black was replaced with misty white.

Harry fell to his knees.

Voldemort's laughter echoed in his mind.

“Bow to Death.”

Harry stood to his feet again with a roar, and observed himself yelling, "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!"

Dumbledore was standing before him, wearing a serene, condescending smile. His eyes twinkled as if he knew the secrets of the universe. "You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

Harry screamed at the old man, wordless and rage filled. He didn't know what he was holding in his hand but it was smooth, and cold, and hard. Harry pitched the orb, the Prophecy, at the old man's head. It shattered against his chest.

Dumbledore's breath went out of him in a soft exhalation, his sparkling blue eyes dimming, till no light shone from them at all. He fell backwards, and between one heartbeat and the next it wasn't Albus Dumbledore, it was Sirius falling backwards into the veil, a laugh caught on his smiling lips.

oOo

Harry came to screaming. His nightmare had been so vivid, so achingly real, he couldn't forget, would never forget the images replaying in his mind.

Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were awake and out of bed as they watched in stunned silence as Harry fought with his comforter to get out of bed.

"Harry?" Neville questioned cautiously.

Harry didn't respond to Neville as he finally got himself untangled. He stood in the centre of the room panting and sweating.

"Did you have another vision?" Ron asked.

Harry's body began to shake uncontrollably.

"I'll go get help," Dean offered.

Help, Harry thought numbly as his body started going into shock. It was a familiar sensation, an almost pleasant feeling as his body just gave up trying to make sense of it all.

Yeah, help might be a good idea.

Dean ran for the door when Harry continued to say nothing.

Harry's legs felt wobbly but he refused to let himself fall to the ground.

Help, Harry thought, Help, please, please help, I don't want to die. He still felt trapped in his nightmare.

He needed to get out of this castle. He needed to get as far away from the Forbidden Forest as was physically possible, he- he needed to see Sirius. He needed to see the man alive and breathing so he didn't have to keep reliving the image of his godfather falling into the veil, to a realm forever out of reach.

But Sirius isn't dead, Harry told himself, trying to get a hold of himself and his breathing. He isn't dead. I haven't failed this time. I will not fail this time.

The mirror. The broken, stupid shard of mirror that Harry had forgotten about the first time in his trunk, the one Aberforth had heard the plea for help through once. Only this time around Harry had never received the mirror shard from Sirius.

There had to be something, some way to get to Grimmauld Place. If he went to the forest he could get a ride from one of the Thestrals or even a Hippogryph. Harry was sure he could befriend one of them who wasn't Buckbeak. Bowing to large mythical horse/bird creatures was not something Harry had any issues with.

But that would require going back to the Forbidden Forest and Harry shuddered at the thought, nearly falling over with the violence of the movement.

Then he realised he wouldn't have to go that far. If he got off the Hogwarts grounds he could apparate himself to London. He might be fifteen in this body, but so far Harry hadn't forgotten or lost any of his magical skills as an eighteen-year-old spirit. Sure, it was illegal, but when had that ever stopped him before? The trace wouldn't be a problem as long as he didn't directly apparate to Grimmauld Place. Harry wouldn't mind sprinting a few blocks.

"Harry!" Ron yelled.

And this time Harry did fall over, his body still weak with tremors.

"Sorry," he muttered, "But you didn't hear us talking to you."

He bent over Harry and offered him a hand up to stand.

"No," Harry said, as evenly as he could, getting to his feet on his own.

I need to get out of here.

Inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning, as the door to their room opened.

"Kreacher," Harry whispered aloud.

Pop.

"Master calls for Kreacher," the little elf greeted.

"Harry-" McGonagall warned as she stepped into the room.

"Take me to Sirius," Harry ordered.

"Harry wait-" she warned, eyes wide, but she was too late.

"Yes, Master Potter," Kreacher said.

Pop.

oOo

Harry landed on Sirius, who had been asleep in bed.

The older wizard woke with an exclamation and began a long -rather creative, litany of swearing until he realised who had been dropped on him.

"Harry?" he asked, confused.

"Hi, Padfoot. I'd have called first but you don't have a phone," Harry babbled.

Sirius hugged him and Harry clung to his godfather in return.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, reactions, or leatherback sea turtles? Please?

Chapter Text

AN: Do not talk about the elections to me, but please enjoy this story. It was difficult to write the first time and even more difficult to the second.

oOo

" I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry. You're not a bad person. You're a very good person, who bad things have happened to."

-Sirius Black.

Chapter 13 - When You Die

Harry had been so desprate to talk to Sirius, he forgot that Sirius didn’t know everything.

Talking to Flitwick had been somewhat easier because he was, in a sense, a stranger. If Flitwick didn’t believe him or was disappointed in him, then, well, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t care what his professor thought, but Sirius was family.

Seeing his indecision, Sirius suggested he take a shower while Sirius made them some hot chocolate.

Harry lingered in the warmth of that shower, attempting and failing to organize his thoughts.

He knew he needed to tell him everything, but that didn’t make him less afraid.

He did feel better after the shower. He used the cleaning charm Hermonie had taught him on his pajamas. He was able to make it to the kitchen without waking any portraits.

Sirius had seat next to the fire and hot chocolate waiting for him.

Wonderful, rich, extra bar of chocolate, hot chocolate, that seemed to warm him from the inside out.

"What's been happening, Harry?" Sirius asked.

He felt his shoulders round as hunched over his mug. Briefly, Harry thought of hiding, of starting with the dream but there was no way to explain the dream without explaining the whole story.

Harry took a deep breath, "Sirius, what do you think happens to you when you die?"

Sirius blinked, "I'm - I don't know, but I would like to think we join our loved ones."

"I didn't," Harry said hollowly. "Not when Voldemort struck me with the killing curse the first time and not the second time either."

Sirius frowned, "You're going to have to run that by me again. You remember that night?"

Harry sighed, "I have had dreams about that night my entire life. I remember from my father telling Lily to run, I remember mom begging for my life with Voldemort, I remember him giving her an opportunity to step aside, and her dying for me. I saw pieces of it my entire life, but I wasn’t able to piece it together until I attacked by a dementor in the third year on the train.”

“I had no idea,” Sirius said sadly. “What do you mean you remember what happened after you were hit by the killing curse? Twice, I might add.”

Harry smiled without humour, “I remember. At least, I remember what happens when you don’t pass on to the next adventure.”

The last he could not see without some bitterness.

Sirius hesitated, “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

Harry took in a deep breath before he began with, “I had my first occlumency lesson with Snape last week. When he dug into my mind… I remembered. I skipped this week's lesson."

"You remembered being hit by the killing curse?" Sirius asked to clarify.

"I remember dying and coming back to life and that space in between."

"What did you see?"

"The space in-between life and death, for me, was filled with white mist. The first time, I was sitting on the couch downstairs with my parents. Dad told me to live and Mum told me she loved me. Then I was coming back… and it was… it was pain. It hurt so much I don't know what to compare it to. It was so painful that it almost wasn't a physical sensation. The pain in my scar was secondary."

Sirius's face was calm but his eyes were glassy with suppressed emotions. "But this happened to you twice?"

"The second time it was Dumbledore who greeted me in the white mist. We were in King’s Cross. He gave me choice of whether to move on to see my parents again or return,” Harry answered. He took a few bracing gulps of hot chocolate  before admitting, “And I woke up three years into the past."

Sirius blinked, repeatedly. He also took a few gulps of his hot chocolate, which made him think that, perhaps, Sirius’s had more than just chocolate. "You time travelled?"

"Yes. I woke up on the day of the Final Task. I thought I was hallucinating. If I hadn't thought that, maybe I would have caught Wormtail."

"You time travelled?" Sirius asked again.

"Yes."

There was a long pause, "So you're what seventeen years old?"

"Eighteen, I think," Harry answered then shook his head. “I mean I remember those years, but–” he gestured to himself. “I’m in this body. It’s harder than I remember it being, dealing with my emotions. I’m so easily overwhelmed. I was in a war and I handled that better than a stupid dream.”

“Pruberty isn’t anything anyone wants to relive twice,” Sirius remarked though he looked like he was in over his head.

"Do you want me to tell you what I've gone through since coming back in time or my original timeline?" Harry asked.

Sirius sucked in a breath, held till he nearly turned blue then let it out in a gust. "I guess anything is possible with magic,” he remarked. “Let’s talk about your original timeline. That’s where your nightmares are coming from, right? You said you fought in the upcoming war.”

Harry gripped his mug a little tighter, "Yeah."

"Then start where the two lines split. What happened the first time you went through the Final Task?"

So Harry told him.

He detailed Cedric's death, the ceremony that brought No-Nose back to full strength. 

Fifth year was somehow even more difficult to describe.

At least, they were more difficult to describe to Sirius.

Harry was still embarrassed by how easily he had been duped by the nightmares. How the pain in his scar and the newspapers had driven him mad. How  Umbridge setting dementors on him and made everyone’s lives at Hogwarts a misery.

Harry couldn’t explain Dumbledore's distance nor the Occlumency lessons, without emotion. Though he allowed that he had overstepped looking into Snape's memories and his failure in forgetting the mirror shard.

It was easier to speak about the Death Eaters breaking out of prison and Nagini attacking Mr. Weasley. 

The hardest was explaining exactly how the trap Voldemort set had played out, and how Harry had taken his classmates into a battle at the Ministry of Magic, which had ulitmatelySirius dying.

"It was my fault."

"It was not your fault," Sirius said firmly. "Damn Bellatrix. I got cocky and failed you. That most certainly was not your fault."

"But there were a million things I could have done, Sirius," Harry said, setting aside his now empty mug.

"Harry, unless you personally take a rock and smash my skull in, my death will never be your fault. Even if you killed me, I would imagine that you would probably a justified cause."

"You didn't deserve to die," Harry stressed.

"I'm the reason your parents were murdered. The reason you were raised by the Dursleys."

"No!” Harry exclaimed. “No, you weren't! If Trelawney hadn't made the stupid prophecy, if Snape hadn't overheard it, if Pettigrew wasn't an evil bastard, if- If a million things! It isn't your fault my parents died."

"Alright," Sirius said with suspicious ease.

It was Harry's turn to blink in surprised confusion, "Just like that?"

"I'll make you a deal. I will never say out loud, and I will attempt not to think, that I am the reason my best friend and his wife died. I will not say that I am the reason James’s son was left to fend himself, with relatives who didn’t love him as they should, if you accept that by the same reasoning you just gave me that my death was not– and will never be– your fault."

Harry glared at him, "And what? we chant it enough times and we start to believe it?"

"Stranger things have happened," Sirius pointed out.

Harry sighed, exhaustion swamping as continued with his story. In doing so, he was proved that, indeed, stranger things had happened. For instance, Dumbledore taking Harry Horcrux hunting and Snape being a triple agent.

"Snape killed Dumbledore?" Sirius breathed, shocked.

"Dumbledore was already dying,” Harry explained. “He strong-armed Snape into shortening it. Snape saved Draco Malfoy from becoming a murderer."

Sirius nodded, "He's a cranky bastard but he didn't turn out completely rotten, I suppose. Not that I can say I helped him be a better person at all."

Harry snorted, "I think it's safe to say Snape wasn't sad to see you go."

"And this all would have happened next year?" 

Harry nodded.

"How are you going to keep this from Snape during your Occlumency lessons?" Sirius asked.

"I have no idea, and aside from Flitwick, you are the only person who knows that I time travelled."

Sirius raised his brows, "You really haven't said anything to Ron or Hermione?"

"How can I!?" Harry exploded, throwing his hands up. "What am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey best friends, I am a time traveller and we went through hell together. Hermoine was tortured, Ron lost a brother, and Hogwarts was–’”

He words got stuck in his throat as images of broken walls and broken bodies flashed through his mind’s eye.”

"Who's to say they wouldn't understand?" Sirius questioned.

"Sirius, we lived in a tent for months because we were on the most wanted list. 

“Hermione erased her parents' memories of herself and shipped them to Australia. I don't want her to have to think of that. I don't ever want her to be put in a position where that would ever occur to her or for that to be necessary,” Harry said in rush and once he started, he couldn’t stop.

“When we got caught, Bellatrix carved 'mudblood' into Hermione's arm with a cursed blade. I don't want her to know that. I don't want to see her face when her faith in the concept of laws and right and wrong is destroyed. 

“Even if I did tell her it would just be giving her pain for no reason because she will never be the person who lived through those things with me. I miss that person but I would give almost anything to ensure she never has to live through that again, that she never has to become that person.

"Ron deserted us because of that stupid locket. He came back but we… all of us were so close to breaking,” Harry’s voice cracked. He didn’t know at what point he had stood, but he was on his feet, his hands shaking.

"Harry…”

Harry fell back in his seat, “I can’t tell them, Sirius. I can’t tell them. Not until they have to know, but if I’ve been given this chance to change things… I don’t want to tell them.”

Sirius nodded.

Harry sat back down.

There was an awkward silence.

Has it stretched, Harry blurted, "We robbed Gringotts."

"You robbed Gringotts?” Sirius asked, seeming both astonished and proud. “Successfully?" 

Harry nodded, "Yep. It was Bellatrix's vault actually. We rode out of the bank on the dragon they keep down there."

Sirius smiled, “Every time I think I couldn’t be prouder of you, you out do yourself.”

Harry flinched, despite all that he had told Sirius already, he couldn’t quite bring himself to admit to using the Imperius Curse to manage the bank robbing.

“Harry?” Sirius prompted

“I have done a lot of bad things,” he said, voice weak.

"You were in a war, Harry, sometimes the right thing to do isn't the ethical thing to do."

"I'm sure that's what the Death Eaters tell themselves," Harry said, shoulders slumping.

"A lot of good people die in war because they do nothing. An ethical death is still dead. In war, it’s a choice of who dies, and I’d rather a soldier who’s protecting innocense survive than terrorist who kills children continue on."

"The final battle was fought on the Hogwarts's grounds after a year of students being tortured and torturing one another. A lot of them died, Sirius. Whatever we did, it wasn't enough."

"Harry…"

"I've been thinking it over for months and it all seems so silly. Everything we did was so small in the face of it. Dumbledore and Voldemort playing chess with our lives. Years of being told that I was only a child and should let the adults take care of it, then two years of everyone depending on me. Two years of sorrow and mayhem and we were too late to save anyone . Too late to help anyone!  

“I am just one person and I was only important because the Dark Lord and Dumbledore were obsessed with me. But really, I was just such a small voice in the greater horror of it all. The best thing I did for anyone was die."

Sirius shook his head, “I don’t understand that and I refuse to believe that could ever be true.”

“I was one of his Horcrux. One of his anchors. In order for him to be defeated, then I had to die.”

"That is not true,” Sirius said obstinately. “Harry, you have done more than anyone should have ever asked of you. Voldemort is a madman, his actions are inexcusable. Dumbledore is almost equally wrong in putting that burden on you."

"Yet if I hadn't been around, Voldemort wouldn’t have come back."

Sirius looked angry, "If it wasn't for you he would have won the first war. Had Lily never had you, she may have never found a way to fight him off."

"So you don't think I was a supernatural baby?”

Sirius shook his head, "Prongslet, you were a beautiful, beloved child of two of the very bravest people who did their best to care for you in a war."

"I wish they hadn't died for me."

Sirius sighed, and looking twice his age, he said, "We would have died a thousand times over to see you safe."

"You didn’t know then?" Harry asked. "You didn’t know that Dumbledore was grooming me to be a martyr?"

Sirius shook his head, "Explain."

"You've heard of the Deathly Hallows?"

"The children's story?"

Harry shrugged, "My dad's cloak is the invisibility cloak."

Sirius's eyes widened, "That’s… that’s impossible."

"I tell you I'm a time traveller and the Hallows is where you draw the line?"

Sirius expression turned sheepish, "Sorry, you're right. I believe you, it's just that is a very old children's book. I sure hope Rabbity-Rabbity isn't real." His humour was forced and fell flat.

"Dumbledore's wand is the Death Stick and the ring that was killing him, the stone set into the Gaunt ring was the Resurrection Stone."

“He had all three Hallows," Sirius stated.

"Snape died because of the Elder Wand. Voldemort set Nagini on him."

"Did he know he was the traitor?"

"No, Voldemort thought he was loyal until the last. Snape died in my arms and the last thing he did was give me his memories,” Harry paused, not wanting to cause more conflict.

He saw only compassion on his godfather’s face as he said, "You don't have to tell me this part."

"I need to tell you, I think,” Harry decided. “I haven't told Flitwick but he doesn't hate the man like you and I do."

Sirius sighed, "You are going to tell me why Dumbledore trusted the old bat, aren't you?"

Harry smiled sadly, explaining the tragedy of teenager who was led down a dark road.

“He loved her," Sirius said after Harry finished explained he had seen in Snape's memories.

"He saved my life over and over again for her. He taught school children which he hates, and played spy and Dumbledore's lap dog and died for love of her."

oOo

"That doesn't exactly excuse him for the things he's done," Sirius remarked. He had known most of what Harry had told him about Snape and he didn’t particularly love the sympathy Harry seemed to have for the man.

 "He was set up to fail," Harry said, as if that was a justification.

Sirius felt extremely overwhelmed at this point. They had been talking for hours, and that was is only excuse for not connecting the dots together sooner. "Did- did Dumbledore ask you to sacrifice yourself to Voldemort?"

Harry nodded, "I didn't say goodbye to Ron and Hermione."

"No, Harry, no," Sirius moaned. "Tell me you didn't. Tell me you didn't give up the fight."

"I never even raised my wand."

"Why would you do that!? What did you think it would accomplish?"

" Neither can live while- "

"Damn the prophecy!" Sirius shouted, standing up. "What made you think dying would do anyone any good!?"

"There was a piece of Voldemort's soul anchored inside me."

"You said that, but did you try anything else!? Harry, the Dark Arts are not a ‘one solution solves all.’ There are so many things you could have tried before allowing someone to kill you! " 

Sirius didn't mean to shout, but he couldn't suppress his fear, his sorrow for what his godson had gone through. It broke his heart to think that his Harry, that James and Lily's son would think–even for a moment–that he was worth more dead than alive.

"Dumbledore gave me the Resurrection Stone and you and Mum and Dad and Remus were there. Dad and Mum were proud of me, Remus was sorry for orphaning his son–my godson by the way who I left behind too–, and you, you said–"

Sirius felt his heart constrict, "What did I say, Harry? What did the shade who stole my appearance and my voice say?"

oOo

Harry shut his eyes unable to face Sirius as he repeated the words that had given him the courage to sacrifice it all -sacrifice himself. "I asked if it would hurt, if it would hurt to die and you said-" He had to swallow before finishing, "You said it was quicker and easier than falling asleep."

Sirius knelt by his chair and took his hand in both of his. His blue eyes held his unwaveringly, "You listen to me, my son, your parents and I love you. We would never wish you harm, we would never ask you to die."

"My death could have saved a lot of people."

"Bullshit," Sirius snapped, squeezing Harry's hands tighter. "I don't care what you saw with that cursed stone, I would never have encouraged you to give up your life. I would have told you to rage, I would have told you to run and fight another day. I would have told you that your time hadn't come yet, that your time would never come until you had exhausted all other options and even then I would have told you to continue to fight.

"There are things worth dying for, things worth sacrificing, but offering your life up to a madman for an empty promise..."

Harry shook his head and tried to pull his hands out of Sirius's grip but Sirius held on.

“It wasn’t an empty promise.”

"Was anything else tried? Did anyone discuss what other things could have been tried? Dumbledore took the easy way out. You know that, don't you?" Sirius asked, his eyes kind, his words demanding.

"Sirius don't-"

"Say it, Harry."

"Dumbledore-"

"Albus Dumbledore was wrong."

"Sirius please sto-"

"Say it out loud, Harry. You need to hear yourself say it."

Harry couldn't stop the tears that trailed down his face. "I thought it was the only option. There were so many, too many who had died. I just wanted it to stop, I just wanted it to end."

"Did you want to die?" Sirius asked gently.

"No, no, I was terrified but I thought, I thought-" Harry stuttered.

Sirius pulled him into a hug.

Harry choked on a sob. "I thought it would make- that I would make a difference. I thought my death would give everyone else a chance to live and I was willing to die for them. I was just one person, I didn't matter."

"Yes, you do matter, Harry, yes you do. You will always matter. There is no life that is equitable to another's. Your parents died fighting for you, but they would still have been fighting if they hadn't had you. Your mother died for you because she couldn't have lived in a world without you. She couldn't have been Lily Potter, your mother, if she had stepped aside to let you be murdered before her eyes."

"I died because- I died because I loved them all, everyone at this school, I died so they could have a chance too."

"You believed that by dying that your single death would have stopped Voldemort," Sirius repeated back to him.

Both reasonings were sound. 

Either dying for the greater good, dying so others might have a chance, or that by dying Harry hadn't stopped Voldemort in the slightest. If Voldemort had lived and Harry was dead then Voldemort would have kept killing.

Harry hadn't killed Nagini and Dumbledore was dead, who was there that could have withstood the Dark Lord?

Hermione? But Hermione, as brilliant as she was no more a match for Voldemort.

"I died for nothing," Harry said brokenly.

"No, Harry, you died because every person that should have stood up for you, every adult that should have been there for you made you feel that you had no worth. I loved you and I failed you. You loved Dumbledore and he not only died on you but told you to die for everyone else. At your weakest, at your most courageous, you were given a weapon that made you believe that the people who had loved you most in this world wanted you dead."

Harry shattered, he slid off his chair fully into Sirius's embrace and fell apart. Crying, he lost any sense of composure. 

He had tried so hard, he had done everything asked of him and in the end thrown away his life. The life his parents had given him, the one Sirius had died fighting to protect.

Harry buried his face into Sirius’s robes and sobbed, giving voice to the fear and the pain and the grief that had been eating away at his soul.

Sirius rubbed his back, murmuring words of comfort and after an endless space of time, Harry finally heard the words Sirius was saying, "You're not too late. We're alive, Harry, we're alive."

Harry closed his eyes and clung to that thought. The thought that they were alive and where there was life there was hope.

oOo

Harry awoke the next morning in a bed, after finding his glasses on the bedside table he recognized the room as Regulus's. He had no idea how he had gotten here. He looked around and though Grimmauld Place was cleaner in this timeline, this room was still the most pristine.

Harry found Sirius still awake, staring into the embers of the kitchen fireplace, lost in thought.

"Your little brother died fighting by the way," Harry croaked.

"Hmmm?" Sirius asked, his blue-grey eyes had darkened to a deep charcoal grey.

"Slytherin's Locket, Regulus found out what it was and died getting it to Kreacher. That’s how he betrayed the Death Eaters."

Sirius was quiet, gaze going distant again, "Where are the Horcruxes now?

"When I came back in time I destroyed them. All of them. The one in my scar didn't survive the trip through time continuums," Harry said, retaking his seat from the night before.

"Even the one in Gringotts?"

"Dobby got that one."

"The house-elf?" Sirius grinned, "Oh I would love to tell my dear cousin that."

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are you mad at me for getting myself killed?"

A beat.

Sirius met his gaze, "Yes, I am angry, I think I will always be angry that you felt that was your only option, but I understand why you did it."

Harry bit his lip, "Do you forgive me?"

Sirius smiled at him, “Of course, I do. Though, I would prefer you never willingly let yourself get killed again. Please.”

“I don’t want to die again. Not like that.”

There was a long beat of silence.

Harry broke that moment by asking, "Do you forgive yourself?"

Sirius took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it go. "It doesn't help us, to live in the past."

"Doesn't mean we can escape it."

"We have to learn to live, you and I. We have to learn to move forward. This life, well, you gave us a second chance."

Harry shook his head, "I don't know what you mean?"

"Voldemort is on the run. You destroyed all his soul fragments. You gave us a second chance, a real chance. Let's not waste it."

"So where do we go from here?" Harry asked.

"Well, I think you need a day, well probably a year off, but I think I can steal you for a few days without causing too much trouble."

Harry felt his insides warm. "What do you have in mind?"

"Have you ever been to Italy?"

Harry shook his head.

Sirius grinned,"I think we are in need of a harty breakfast and they have the great food. Plus, I bet it's sunny there."

"But you're-"

Sirius held up a finger and pulled out his wand. A few flicks and the dark haired, moustached man in front of him was now blonde, tanned, clean-shaven, and had turquoise blue eyes. He pulled out a hair tie and pulled his hair back in a ponytail.

"Transfiguration was always my best subject," Sirius wagging his pale eyebrows. "What do you think?"

Harry stared, "Why did you never do that before?"

"Because there are ways, rather simple ways to break these enchantments. But if we stick to muggle Italy it shouldn't be a problem."

Harry grinned. Yeah, he had been through some shit. But Sirius was absolutely right. 

They were alive and there was nothing stopping them from taking this second chance at a better present. A better future.

A better life.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, Yangtze finless porpoise, or feedback, pretty please?

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - The Greater Good (as Approved by Fawkes the Phoenix)

The teachers and students are very upset. Harry went away for a time. They say he's with his godfather and they think that's a bad thing. 

They are being silly.

I know Sirius is innocent because of the article Father published in the beginning the school year.

I hope Harry feels better. I think he was falling so far and for so long that he was no longer afraid of the ground.

L.L.

oOo

Harry's heart was racing. His hands sweating on the bars holding him down. Sirius was equally restrained beside him. The roaring sounds around them were massive and Harry couldn't place their origin.

They were plunged into darkness. Harry screamed.

Sirius whooped.

A tub sized bucket of water was dropped over their heads.

Harry was spluttering and laughing as Sirius barked. They continued laughing as the waterpark rollercoaster cranked itself back to the start.

The moment they got off Sirius bent forward and shook out his mop of blonde hair at Harry.

"No!" Harry cried, laughing so hard he was on the brink of tears. He ran from his godfather strategically so when the man caught up to him Harry shoved him into a giant swimming pool.

Sirius emerged choking on his own laughter.

Harry knelt by the edge. "Can we get lunch now?"

Sirius grinned, "Asks the boy who never asks for food."

"The last restaurant you took me to had fifteen flavours of chocolate."

"Black-raspberry being the best," Sirius remarked.

"I liked the dark chocolate with cherry."

" Black cherries," Sirius enthused.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Are you ever going to get tired of name puns?"

In answer, Sirius pulled his godson into the pool.

Harry came up for air and immediately tried to drown Sirius.

They lost Harry's glasses and were forced to spend an hour taking turns diving to the bottom of the pool to find them. Sirius had -after apparating them to Italy and changing Harry's appearance to look like the blonde blue eyed son of Sirius's disguise, decreed it would be best not to use magic that week unless absolutely necessary.

They went out to eat after departing the waterpark and ate outside, out looking at the Mediterranean Sea. Harry, was wearing shorts and a T-shirt had angled his chair so he was facing the sun and out from under the shade of the umbrella. The sun felt blessedly warm on his skin, he felt as though the warmth was filling up his very bones.

Sirius watched Harry with a sad smile as his godson grinned carelessly, eyes closed up at the sun. This week had been one of the greatest in Sirius's entire existence and it broke his heart that he had missed fourteen years (or was it seventeen years?) with Harry. Had Lily and James lived, Sirius still would have been a part of Harry's life. They had always been meant to be family. Sirius couldn't help but mourn the time lost.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, not opening his eyes.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. For this week. For listening to me, for being there, for being alive."

Sirius's heart ached, he should have done so much better, but self-deprecation was not what Harry needed from him in this moment. "It's my pleasure, Harry. This week has been the best."

Harry looked up with a grin, "This is the first vacation I've ever been on."

oOo

It took a lot for Sirius not to scowl at the thought, even the Blacks went on family trips to France.

The food came and Harry was able to thank the waiter in French. They had spent the majority of their time in Italy but muggle transport, excluding planes, was slow, and they were taking their time travelling back to the United Kingdoms.

Sirius sniggered.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Your accent is terrible."

"I'd like to see you do any better."

Sirius ordered their food in fluent French.

Harry pouted, "Why haven't you been doing that the whole time we've been here? I knew you could read but you argued with that one lady for nearly an hour about directions in English because you pretended not to understand by 'la gauche' she meant left."

"Don't be so gauche," Sirius teased, taking on an American Hollywood actress accent. They had been watching a lot movies in hotels at night when they were too tired to walk the streets any longer but not ready to give up the other's company for sleep.

"Sirius..." Harry chided.

"Because if you speak French in France people are going to talk to you in French, meaning ninety percent of everything anyone said to us was going to go over your head. I could teach you though. If you like?"

"Who taught you French?"

"My dad."

"Not your mum?"

Sirius snorted, "My mother wasn't a good teacher. She had no patience."

"Did you like your dad?"

Sirius shrugged. "He was a quiet man. When I was very young I wanted to be just like him."

"What changed your mind?"

"Politics, parties, anything in the outside world really. The Black family was always very close knit and even marrying into the family wasn't the same as those born with the name."

"Did you ever get along with Bellatrix?"

Sirius grinned, "Playing hide and go seek with the Black Sisters in Grimmauld Place…" He shook his head. "If we could have all stayed children, stayed in that world where the dark arts was a just cool pet beastie and nobody died and it never mattered how weird or mean we were because the outside world didn't exist. If we could have stayed in that bubble it would have been good, or at least, not an awful fate. But we grew up and I saw that the actions of my family, that the words we said and the steps we took caused damage wherever we went. It wasn't something I wanted any part of. Though as you know, I wasn't a saint in Gryffindor. Still, I didn't bow to a Dark Lord. That is one mistake I never made."

"Do you think they could have been better people if they… er... grew up with morals?"

Sirius grinned, "Anything's possible I suppose. Though Bella would have needed more help than the wizarding world could have ever provided. St. Mungo's doesn't really deal with mental health much."

"The Longbottoms are there."

"Yes, well, they don't have the means to take care of themselves and my dear cousin was more than capable of the basics."

Harry let the topic drop when their food arrived. He hummed with approval.

Sirius hid his grin as a look of pure euphoria took over his godson's face.

"How is this so much better than Hogwarts food?"

"It's French."

Harry grinned, "I think I could stay here forever, or Italy. I loved Italy a lot, we haven’t been here long enough for me to decide which I like better though."

"We could if you truly wanted to. After hearing what you've been through, I seriously regret not kidnapping you in your third year," Sirius said without jest.

Harry bit his lip, "Do you think Dumbledore managed to cover up my absence or do you think everyone is panicking?"

"I take that as you don't want to run away," Sirius said.

Mores the pity, this last week had shown Sirius how easy it would be to hide so long as he had access to his money.

"I want to finish school. I didn't get to the first time around,” Harry explained. “I've been having more fun this year than I have since first year. Somewhere along the line, magic stopped being important, but it is important to me. It’s amazing and freeing, more so than just escaping the Dursleys."

Sirius nodded, "I can understand that, but we don't have to live in Northern Europe. I am obscenely rich and when you do come of age you'll be obscenely rich too. We can live anywhere we want."

Harry took off his glasses to wipe them on a napkin, keeping his gaze down, "Except you're still on the run."

"Aurors don't cross country borders," Sirius said. "It's why finding Voldemort has been such an issue, why it was such an issue last time he rose to power. Bad guys don't have to follow laws, international or otherwise. That's part of why the Order was formed."

"So why has running been so difficult for you?" Harry asked without looking up.

"Because I always stayed close enough to be there for you if there were an emergency. Taking you would have caused a bit more problems as kidnaping underaged wizards is something that would allow aurors to cross the borders, without a political nightmare."

"I thought I was the political nightmare," Harry quipped, putting his glasses back on.

Sirius grinned, "I bet they're panicking. Boy-Who-Lived Goes Missing Right Out From Dumbledore's Nose. That is a paper seller."

"Can I tell them you kidnapped me and took me on vacation to beaches, fancy restaurants, and amusement parks? I want to see their faces when I explain what snorkeling is."

Sirius barked his approval, "Sure at this point kidnapping is pretty low on my supposed crimes."

oOo

They went back to the inn they had been staying in Calais, packing up the souvenirs, and disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Harry said goodbye to Buckbeak before, rather unenthusiastically, following Sirius to the fireplace. They would be flooing back to Hogwarts.

"Sirius?" Harry said, stopping halfway to the fireplace. His godfather was already looking a bit depressed.

His godfather looked up, his grey already darkening with his approaching isolation.

"I love you," Harry said.

Sirius stopped in his tracks, turning to him fully before pulling Harry into a tight hug. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry made to pull back but Sirius held on a bit tighter and whispered, "Give me something that happened to you before your fifth year that I can be mad at Albus for. I don't think I can hide my emotions toward him for a future that hasn’t happened yet."

Harry settled into Sirius’s embrace, "The Dursleys kept me in a cupboard under the stairs until my Hogwarts letter came."

Sirius nearly crushed Harry in his arms which was fine for a minute.

"Sirius-need-air-" Harry said breathlessly.

Sirius let go.

"I can get there on my own," Harry offered.

But his godfather just shook his head, taking Harry's luggage and shrank it, before handing it back to Harry. "No, I think it's time I claim my parental rights."

oOo

The Heads of House were in Albus's office discussing the current drama that had thrown the entire school into a frenzy. Even a number of Slytherins were visibly disturbed by Harry's supposed kidnapping by a known Death Eater. Many were starting to think the Boy Who Lived was dead. 

"Where would the mutt have taken him?" Severus asked, he sounded more exhausted than bitter.

"Harry's fine," Minerva said, although she didn't sound completely convinced.

Albus tapped his fingers on his desk, "He needs to be back here, it isn't safe for him-"

Filius interrupted, "Harry needed some time off. He should be back soon, I can't see him missing more than a week of school."

"And how can you be so sure?" Severus asked.

"Harry trusts Sirius, so I trust Sirius."

Pomona gave Filius a scandalized look.

She was the only one out of the five who didn't know Sirius was innocent. She was slowly spiralling into a rage as her co-workers calmly discussed Mr. Potter's whereabouts.

"This is madness!" Pomona exclaimed, the dam bursting, "He is a Death Eater!"

"It was Pettigrew, Pomona," Filius said gently, "It was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed the Potters, that murdered all those people, who cut off his own finger, and framed Mr. Black to take the fall."

"But- he was in prison-"

"Without a trial."

"Oh," she said softly, slumping into her seat when no one in the room refuted his statement.

"The boy is still in trouble," Severus said, "Black isn't safe to keep around children-"

Albus's fireplace flashed bright green and Harry stepped through first, followed closely by Mr. Trouble himself.

"Hello Professors," Sirius greeted warmly.

Harry smiled and waved. 

Everyone noticed immediately how genuine that smile was, how it reached his eyes. Harry’s emerald eyes were bright, his skin was tanned, and he seemed to be glowing with an inner contentment that they had only ever seen glimpses of.

Albus stood to walk around the table as he demanded, "Where have you been?"

Sirius's smile widened as he cheerfully greeted the Headmaster, "Albus!" 

Albus hesitated.

Sirius continued to walk forward as if he would embrace the older man. 

Filius saw the fighting stance two heartbeats before Sirius's fist met the side of Dumbledore's face.

The old man dropped to the floor with a surprised grunt. The wind was knocked out of him, his glasses shattering on the stones.

Harry was pulling Sirius back, trying to guard his godfather against the three wands trailed on him. Filius had his wand out but it was not pointed at Sirius.

Sirius began shouting, "You son of a bitch! You stay the hell away from godson! You understand me, old man? You stay the hell away from my son! "

"Sirius, calm down," Harry pleaded.

"Sirius, what's wrong with you?" Minerva asked.

"I thought you said he was safe?" Pomona questioned, voice unsteady, though her wand held steady. 

None of them dared lose a spell when Harry was wrapped around the enraged man.

"Did you hear me, Albus!?" Sirius roared, " Stay away from Harry ."

"He's the only thing keeping the idiot alive, you moron!" Severus raised his voice, his expression contorted into a snarl.

Sirius turned on his old-school rival. "Did you love her?"

Severus sneered, "What are you babbling about, mongrel?"

"Lily Evans," Sirius explained, pressing against Harry's grip but not breaking it, not striking out. 

Which is when Filius made the leap that some of Sirius’s anger was a front, something deliberately done.

"Did you love her?" Sirius asked

"What does Lily have to do with any of this?" Severus snarled.

"You were her neighbour, she told us that, you must have known her sister."

Severus scowled, "I knew Petunia, what of it?"

"She kept Lily's son in a cupboard for ten years. Ten years she tormented him and starved him."

Severus said nothing, though his onyx eyes were a bit wider as he gazed at Harry with an unreadable expression.

Sirius turned his attention back to Albus, who had gotten stiffly to his feet, his spectacles, fixed and resting properly on his nose. The corner of his mouth was leaking blood, the splash of red making a dramatic contrast on his beard.

"Harry will not be returning to the Dursleys. From this summer onwards, Harry will always have a home with me," Sirius informed them.

Filius was not in disagreement.

Albus's smile was gentle, but the usual sparkle in the man's eyes was gone. "Harry will retur-"

"He will not," Filius interrupted. "They are unfit guardians, keeping someone alive, barely, is not the same thing as care, as having a family. Harry will not return there. He was courageous enough to ask for help. What message does it send if those students who ask for help don't receive it? Do you know how many students I've had over the years who I could not help because I did not have enough information to act on?"

"Harry is a special case," Albus said.

It was a damning statement in Filius's assertation. 

"He's my son," Sirius growled. "He isn't a case, he's a person and he will not return to people who would do him harm."

"I told you," Minerva said, lowering her wand, both Pomona and Severus following her lead. "Didn't I tell you, Albus? That they were the worst sort of muggles? That they would hate him for what he was? You told me you had checked up on him. You lied to me."

"I didn't lie. I stationed someone there permanently to keep an eye on him," Albus defended himself.

"Yeah," Harry said, taking part in the conversation for the first time. "The cat lady who happened to be squib who never told me a damned thing was really useful. Especially, as she was never allowed into the Dursleys’s house. She didn't see anything because on the outside there was nothing to see."

The Four Heads of House and Sirius turned their rather unfriendly expressions to the Headmaster.

"The blood wards-"

"My house is safer than those wards, as the Dementors so kindly illustrated this summer," Sirius argued.

Albus smiled at Sirius, "And yet you are not a free man. What would happen if someone let it slip where you were-" his eyes flicked briefly to Harry with his summer tan at the end of a Scotland autumn, "-on vacation?"

The tension in the room seemed to drop as if they had all descended into a deep valley after living on top of a mountain for years. The air was harder to breathe, their muscles taking on the extra weight.

But the magical pressure wasn't coming from Sirius, no it was Harry Potter whose wand was pointed at Albus's heart. Harry stepped in font of Sirius as he warned the Headmaster, "Don't. You. Dare. Threaten. My family ." 

Each word he spoke was low and precise.

"You are a child," Albus snapped, "You don't understand-"

"You don't get to call me that," Harry told him evenly. "Not after what you've done. Not after what you planned to do to me. You don't get to treat me like I am some innocent child when your only reason for keeping me alive is so I can die when at the time you appoint."

Minerva jerked, whereas Filius found himself imagining the young man Harry would soon become.

oOo

"I don't want you to die, my boy," Dumbledore said serenely.

Harry's hand tightened on his wand, how he wanted to believe that. Even now, Harry still wanted to believe that he had meant more to Albus Dumbledore than an expendable piece in a master plan.

"Enough of this, Harry," Albus said soothingly, in that voice that could talk almost anyone into almost anything. "I never intended to cause you harm. I’m sorrier than I can say that the Dursleys didn’t love you as they were meant to.”

Harry shook his head, "You don't get to decide my future. You don't get to keep making choices for me.”

“Your destiny is your own to decide,” Dumbledore lied.

Harry felt his heart breaking. He had loved this man, watched him die, and died for him. But Harry wasn't going to waste his second chance. Voldemort was all but destroyed. A wasted husk with only Wormtail to aid him. There were no more Horcruxes, no more quests. Just the aftermath of too much grief and too much regret.

Yet Harry felt himself constantly balancing on a knife’s edge of calling a truce and washing his hands of the old professor.

oOo

Filius watched the conflict on Harry’s face and he stepped forward to spare Harry from this unnecessary conversation.

Which was when Dumbledore made his biggest mistake, the mistake that would break any bridge between the Greatest Wizard of the Age and the Greatest Wizard of the Age to Come.

The Four Heads of House and Sirius watched as the quickest, most vicious non-lethal duel was fought and won before they could even think to raise their own power.

Albus raised his wand at Harry to disarm the boy.

Harry, the eighteen-year-old war veteran who had been fighting for his life since he turned eleven, struck back with all the instinct and grace of a wildcat.

Harry's shield charm was followed by a hex, which Albus reflected only to have to step back as another brutal spell ripped through his desk. Little trinkets and glass instruments clattering to the floor. The desk was now a half-solid table and half half-splintered mass of oak and papers.

Albus's stunners were absorbed by Harry's shields as the younger man gained ground, Albus's wand torn from his grasp.

The Elder Wand landed in Harry's hand with a rush of power and gold and silver sparks. Death recognizing its own.

The room was plunged into a vat of pungent shock. 

Filius felt his breath catch in his throat.

Only half the room understood the significance, frozen at seeing Albus disarmed by a student.

Filius was so proud of him.

oOo

Harry was stunned himself, staring down at the wand in his hand. 

He had always known DADA was his best subject, but if he could take Dumbledore in a fight, even a non-lethal one, was it possible- was it even remotely possible that he could have faced Voldemort in a duel and come out on top?

Harry wasn't a genius like Dumbledore or Riddle, but he wasn't stupid either and even Hermione had once said he was better, or at least stronger, than her at casting spells. He didn't have her fine touch but-

"That's not possible," Dumbledore said into the silence of the room.

Harry refocused, the Death Stick in one hand, his Holly Wand in the other, both pointed at the man who had cut him off from all who would have helped him through the travesty that was his life.

Harry sheathed his Holly Wand in the arm sheath he had bought for himself. He ran a finger up to the tip of the Elder Wand. This wand that had been used to kill him the second time, in more ways than one.

He gripped the stick in both hands and snapped it. A burst of liquid gold seeped out before it exploded into a mist of golden sparkles that pushed everyone -but Harry, back a step.

"No!" the Headmaster cried, empty hand reaching out.

oOo

The Four Heads of House had no idea what the correct course of action was in this situation. For Minerva, Pomona, and Severus they knew that more had just happened here than what lay on the surface. Sure, Mr. Potter had just fought with the Headmaster and stolen and then broken his wand. But the wand had clearly chosen Harry, so in effect, Harry had broken his own wand. Nothing in wizarding customs prompted them to punish the young man for winning a duel. Perhaps fifty points from Gryffindor for destroying the Headmaster's desk?

Filius and Sirius were relieved to see Harry taking a stand for himself and not at all sad to see one of the Hallows destroyed.

Fawkes sang, reminding everyone of his presence. The firebird swooped down to scoop the two halves of the Elder wand in his talens, releasing a small burst of flame, trailing ash in his wake.

Fawkes landed on Harry’s shoulder, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s in a show of comfort.

Harry stroked those beautiful feathers, his fear of the Headmaster for acting so directly against him dwindling with the familiar’s obvious approval.

"Why?" Dumbledore asked.

It should have been Harry's question.

' Why? ' 

What a potent little word.

Harry gave the answer he had been given, "For the Greater Good."

oOo

AN: Thoughts, firebirds, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 - Love Me Not

"Get out," Albus demanded, the old man losing control over his long held composure. "All of you get out!" 

Harry and Sirius shared a look before Sirius caught his hand and pulled him in for a hug as they stepped into the fireplace.

Rightly so, as neither was qualified for being able to handle an emotional Albus.

Pomona and Filius left, taking discretion as the better part of valour, though Filius exchanged a look with Minerva as he passed them.  Minerva glowered at the Headmaster, “I told you that those muggles–”

"Leave me," Albus said, collapsing in a chair by the window, Fawkes chirping softly still on his shoulder.

"I would have taken him," Severus said because as much as he hated James Potter, the boy was still Lily's son, and the tragedy that had befallen her son had been Severus's fault.

He would not have knowingly condemned the boy to a childhood in any way similar to his own.

How much easier would it have been to loathe the child if he was raised like his father or the Malfoys?

Albus looked up, his expression in turmoil. "What?"

"I would have taken the boy in. If there truly had been no one else, I would have taken him in."

"You think you would have made a good father?" Albus asked bitterly.

"No," Severus said cooly. "I probably wouldn't have been, but I would have given him a place to sleep, his own clothes to wear, and food to eat."

"A home is more than the basics,” Albus said tersely.

"He didn't receive the basics, Albus," Minerva said hotly. “Because of us!”

"I could not have spared either of you," Albus sighed, looking out the window. "The Dursleys were a mistake but few places would be as safe."

“It wasn't safe!” Minerva exclaimed.

“He wasn't taken from his home, was he?” Albus asked. “Even knowing where he was, no Death Eater, no well meaning fan of the Boy Who Lived was able to take him away or cause him harm! It was the best of terrible tragedy. I will not belittle his suffering but he has not been killed or kidnapped as many have sought to do over the years.”

“I could have kept him safe,” Minerva said. “He could have been happy with me and my brother.”

Albus shook his head, “The past cannot be changed.”

Minerva left, presumably before she threw any curses as the slamming of the heavy door indicated she would have liked to.

Severus shook his head and turned to follow her, only to pause. Before he left, he gave one last parting shot, "In all your plans, Albus, did you ever account for being proved wrong?"

Albus did not answer nor did Severus wait for a response.

oOo

Albus Dumbledore sat in his tower, overlooking the grounds and acknowledged to himself, that no , he hadn't accounted for being wrong.

He accounted for being left alone in his folly either.

He frowned as his sluggish thoughts fell over each other in useless tangles. 

Pain was a secondary sensation to the inorder of his thoughts, still aching from the punch Sirius had given him as well as how he had landed on the ground.

Eventually, however, the physical sensation soothed his injured pride and he was able to ask himself how it was that Harry had known all that he had.

How did Harry know I meant for him to face Tom? Tom didn't know that, it wasn't something Harry could have gleaned from the Dark Lord's mind. 

And how did Harry know of the Hallows? And why did the wand that only recognized a master who had killed the previous owner acknowledge Harry?

oOo

When Sirius arrived back at Grimmauld Place, after having left Harry with Minerva, Remus was there waiting for him.

"Where have you been?" Remus demanded, nearly frantic, "Where's Harry?"

"I was punching Albus and Harry is in perfect health back at Hogwarts."

Remus gaped at him, "You did what?"

"Oh don't look so shocked, he was asking for it," Sirius said like he had a million times in his school about others who probably hadn't deserved it. "Harry was the one who did the impressive stuff. He won a duel against Dumbledore then broke his wand."

Remus sat back and would have fallen if Sirius hadn't kicked out a chair to catch his friend.

"What?" Remus asked stunned.

"More impressive in person, I assure you," Sirius said with a pleased grin at Remus's reaction. The sensible man was obviously reeling.

"But why would Harry and Albus be fighting? And why would Harry break his wand? And did you say you punched the Headmaster?"

"Because the Headmaster deserved it for all three of those questions."

"Why?" Remus asked.

Sirius sighed and sank down into a chair beside the werewolf, "Do you remember Lily's sister?"

Sirius told Remus what had happened to the son of their best friend after James's death. He ended the story at the end of Harry's fourth year and Sirius, in retelling the story, was angrier than he had been because it was what followed after Harry's fourth year that had caused the most damage, had turned Harry from an abused child to a war hero. oOo

By the time Severus caught up with the others Harry was regaling them with stories from his vacation.

Severus had never seen the boy so chipper. Happy the boy looked a lot more like Lily than he did James, at least in his mannerisms.

Poor Pomona was shell shocked as she listened, Minerva was lost in thought, and Filius was the only one actively listening with a smile.

"So while the rest of us have been scrambling to find the precious Boy Who Lived, you were on a beach in the South of France?" Severus asked snidely.

Harry looked over his shoulder and flashed a bright smile at him. It was Lily's smile, Lily's eyes smiling at Severus beyond the grave.

"It was my first vacation ever," Harry said cheerfully.

The boy was fifteen years old and had never been on a holiday trip, Severus didn't have a comeback for that one, not to the last remaining piece of Lily living on this planet. So Severus held his tongue and Harry went back to talking to Filius.

They entered the Great Hall and the room fell quiet until one Hufflepuff stood up, pointed dramatically at Harry, and shouted, "He's alive!"

Which sent the hall into a flurry of conversation and noise. Some people clapped, some like the Weasley twins (who would have known Harry was fine) stood up and hollered.

Severus made a disgusted noise and muttered, "He's the Boy Who Lived, of course he’s-"

Severus acknowledged he was muttering only to himself as the Great Hall grew ever louder.

oOo

 Harry didn't hear the rest over the rising noise but he could have sworn Snape said something about an atomic bomb.

A streak of blonde curls came rushing towards Harry, slamming into him with a hug.

It was strangely natural to hug her back, she smelled like almond cookies. Harry apologized, "I'm okay, Luna, sorry, I should have sent you a note." 

Snape made another disgruntled sound and headed for the end of the hall snapping at any student who was making a fuss as he went. Minerva, Filius, and Sprout shared amused looks and headed for the head table, settling down the students as they went. Their method was less caustic than Snape's, except for the Weasley twins who Minerva needed to threaten them with detention for them to sit down.

Luna looked up at Harry, her eyes a deep blue with their faces so close. Her cheeks tinted pink as she pulled away from him, "I knew you were safe. I am just happy to have my friend back."

He took her hand in his as he went to find a seat at the Gryffindor table.

He wasn't really hungry but he didn't want to be alone in his dorm either.

"Where have you been?" Angelina asked.

"Italy, and briefly, France," Harry answered easily.

"Explains the tan," Hermione observed. Her tone was a bit harsh, but she looked relieved to see him.

Susan pushed between Fred and Lee, "You were kidnapped by Sirius Black!?"

Neville looked pale.

"No," Harry said. 

Susan and half the people listening sighed with relief. 

"I ran away with Sirius Black."

The expressions on their faces? Completely worth it.

"Mr. Potter," Umbridge had approached them and those nearby had hushed to listen in.

Harry turned to look at the pink toad, eyebrows raised.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Away."

"You must-"

"I've already been to the Headmaster's office," Harry said.

She sniffed but seeing the hostile faces of the other students, she returned to the head table.

"She's High Inquisitor now," George told him.

"She starts inspecting teachers tomorrow," Fred said.

"Snape's class will be fun."

Harry said nothing, knowing how it played out.

"You're sunkissed," Luna observed, causing quite a few people to snigger.

Harry glared at them to shut up. He told her, "I spent a lot of time in the sun."

"Good thing, it fights off the Frosties."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"You missed our first quidditch match," Angelina said angrily from a few seats away.

"Judging by your face we lost," Harry guessed.

"Slytherin smoked us," Fred said mournfully, giving Ron an exasperated look.

Ron sank into his seat.

"It's alright," Harry consoled, "It was only the first game of the year, I am sure we can make up the points."

Ron gave Harry a grateful look as the twins and Angelina huffed.

Hermione sent Harry an odd look, "I never thought you would be so reasonable about quidditch."

Harry shrugged, "There are more important things," and with a wink at Ron he said, "like homework."

Neither Ron nor Hermione knew which one of them Harry was joking with.

oOo

"Ron," Hermione called from the door of their dorm room. It was after dinner but not yet curfew.

Ron came over to her, "What's up, Hermione?"

"Where's Harry?"

Ron made a sour face, "Library," he said it like it was a dirty word.

"Oh, well I don't think we have time to get him if we are going to make it back in time."

Ron frowned, "Back from where?"

"Hagrid is back."

The pair of them were knocking on Hagrid's door fifteen minutes later. The air was growing quite colder as the month of October wore on.

Hagrid opened the door with a big grin and a large black and blue bruise around his eye that had swollen shut. "I was wondering when you three woul- wait a minute, where's 'Arry?"

"Library," Ron said shortly, "Can we come in?"

Hagrid stepped back, but his smile was gone, "'Arry didn't want to see me?"

"We didn't ask," Hermione said. "What happened to you? Who hurt you?"

"Why wouldn't you ask him?" Hagrid wondered, perplexed at the very notion.

"We haven't been- that is to say we haven't been that close this year," Hermione said sadly.

"Why not?"

"You tell us about your eye and we'll tell you about Harry," Ron offered.

Hagrid gave them both a skeptical look, "Everything's strange since I got back. Dumbledore having a black eye and now Harry's not with you two. Strange, strange even for Hogwarts." He turned to start making tea.

"Dumbledore has a black eye?" Hermione asked horrified.

"Who would dare?" Ron asked, astonished.

"Sirius Black took a swing at him, apparently," Hagrid said.

"Why?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

"Dumbledore wouldn't say but he was in a right temper, wouldn't sit still for a minute, pacing a rut in the floor and his desk... It looked like there had been a duel in his office but when I asked he said Sirius hadn't done it," Hagrid explained, placing two mugs before them.

"Sirius took Harry on vacation," Hermione supplied.

"What!?" Hagrid exclaimed, "During the semester? But he must have missed a load of classes."

"He had a nightmare," Ron said, "And a house-elf took in to Headquarters."

"Surely you saw the papers," Hermione said, " Sirius Black Kidnaps Boy Who Lived . It was all anyone could talk about. The school was going mad with it. Harry just came back today, he walked in with a tan like nothing had happened."

"Sirius is his godfather, Hermione," Ron pointed out. "He wasn't really in danger."

"I know Sirius wouldn't have harmed him, but it was rash and they could have been attacked. Besides, he missed a lot of school."

"I thought you were mad at Harry for being too focused on school work?" Ron questioned. "You've barely talked to him all year since he jumped to being top of the year."

"You were mad at him for doing well at school?" Hagrid asked. He was flabbergasted. "But aren't you always after Harry and Ron for not trying harder? Poor show, Hermione, if you are going to turn on him when he listens to your advice."

Hermione's cheeks pinked and flustered; she tried to defend herself, but she found she had nothing to say.

"Harry's been weird since coming back from this summer," Ron said, coming to her defense.

"Weird how?" Hagrid asked.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Well," Ron began. "Aside from liking school work, he's been really distant and yet he's been pretty friendly with the other houses. He's been nice to Malfoy ."

Hagrid's one good eye bulged, "Why?"

"We don't know," Hermione said, "And he seems to not like Dumbledore. He hates talking about him and he avoids the Headmaster at almost any cost."

"Strange," Hagrid muttered to himself.

"Now what happened to you?" Ron asked.

They talked of giants and by the time Hagrid had finished his story about befriending the head of the giants to Dumbledore's cause in case of a war, Ron and Hermione had to run back to Gryffindor Tower to make curfew.

Harry was sound asleep when Ron got back to their room. Ron looked at his best friend sadly, not understanding how fast and how far the distance between them had grown.

oOo

Harry's back at Hogwarts. He seems brighter. The towers in his mind are standing tall.

Father's papers had to reprint because the Quibbler was the only paper printing that Harry was safe with his godfather on vacation. A story which Harry and Dumbledore confirmed.

Dumbledore is unhappy though the towers in his mind have been attacked by an earthquake. I can tell because he doesn't talk at dinner with the other teachers.

Oh, and he has a black eye. Perhaps he met an unfriendly Heliopath.

L.L.

oOo

Harry spent the next two days doing more homework than Hermione would have been willing to attempt without a time turner. By Wednesday, Harry had caught up with the missed work, though he looked tired.

Hermione couldn't help but be impressed as they walked during classes down to Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures period. She approached Harry who was amiably teasing Draco for being afraid of the forest.

"Harry," she said softly.

He turned to her and she didn't like that he was giving her the same expectant look he had given Umbridge in the Great Hall a few nights ago.

"I'm sorry," Hermione blurted out. “Sorry for the way I've been acting toward. It was unfair of me."

Harry smiled at her and Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "It's alright, Hermione, no worries."

She stared at him in amazement. Hermione would never get over how forgiving Harry could be to those he was close to.

"I'm sorry too, mate," Ron said, eager to end the silent fraud between them all.

Harry glared at him.

Ron's heart sank.

Then Harry grinned, "Just kidding. We're good."

Draco, who had been watching the interaction closely, snorted before saying derisively, "And that's why you weren't sorted into Slytherin."

Harry turned his grin on the pale boy, "If I had been sorted into Slytherin we might have been friends and such a world probably would have self-destructed by now."

oOo

Draco glared at him, "Anybody ever tell you, you're mad?"

Harry thought of his adventure at Gringotts and his grin only grew, "You have no idea how right they are."

Draco sank back into the group of Slytherins distancing himself from the Boy Who Lived.

Ron had an extra skip in his step until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest that Hagrid told them they would be going into.

Harry walked beside Hagrid as the rest of the class followed after them.

Ron and Hermione hesitated only a moment before following their friends into the woods.

When they got to a dark thicket, Hagrid threw down the cow carcass and started screeching.

"Sandro!" Harry called pleased as he seemed to watch an invisible creature come out of the woods.

Only Theodore and Neville knew Harry wasn't petting thin air, but neither of them seemed eager to pet the skeletal horse.

Even Hagrid was a bit surprised, "You know Sandro?"

"Luna introduced us," Harry said, coaxing the horse who had put his head down to ask for scratches behind his ears.

oOo

Hagrid had been worried for Harry, but seeing him now, he appeared to be healthier and happier than he had ever seen the lad.

"Xeno's daughter?" Hagrid asked.

"That's her, Luna Lovegood," Harry said with a smile.

And something about the way Harry had said her name made Hagrid think that while Ron and Hermione had been avoiding him, Harry had found other friends, or possibly something deeper than friendship.

oOo

The rest of the class watched with a measure of fear and disgust as the cow disappeared by some invisible force while Harry tried to convince people to pet the creatures.

Hagrid watched all his students with amusement as he lectured them about his herd and Thestrals in the wild.

By the end of class Theodore, Daphne, Blaise, and Hermione were the only ones who tried to pet the Thestrals. The three Slytherins out of curiosity, as well as to not be bested by Harry, while Neville and Hermione reached out their hands in bravery. No one else really trusted Harry or Hagrid's definition of “safe” enough to try to pet an invisible carnivorous flying horse creature.

Harry couldn't truly blame them, even if they were missing out.

oOo

From that day forward, Harry began to do the majority of his homework with Hermione, Ron, and Luna in the library. Having finished his essays, on this particular evening, started on a letter.

Ron was swamped with homework he had been putting off and Hermione, well Hermione had started studying harder and putting even more effort into her subjects to try and catch up. Harry allowed her to read over his essays and she made notes from them for her own review. 

Harry passed his letter over to Luna who had already finished her own homework as fourth years had far less to do than the fifth years. She was now drawing.

oOo

Luna paused looking at the address line. She smiled when she saw it was addressed to her father. She pulled it forward, pushing her drawing aside. In purple ink, she crossed out 'Mr. Lovegood' replacing it with Xeno.

So the letter read thus:

Dear Xeno,

Thank you so much for our correspondence, your words helped me a lot in understanding what had happened to me. I threw the stone somewhere nobody is likely to reach.

I found the wand too, it recognized me. Dumbledore had had it. I kind of, sort of, may have snapped it. Gold liquid came out, followed by a pulse of gold sparkles. Fawkes the Phoenix burned it to dust.

I don't know for sure if it was the best choice, I know it is somewhat of an artefact, but at least Dumbledore will not be murdered for it.

Just thought you should know or at least would like to know.

Warmest Regards,

Harry.

Luna wrote on the bottom.

P.S. Father I love you, L.L.

Followed by an arrow up at Harry's body paragraphs. Smart, isn't he? and a doodle of a purple phoenix.

"I was wondering if you could owl it for me?" Harry asked in a whisper low enough that neither Ron nor Hermione looked up from their work. "I don't think they would check your mail to your dad. At least, not as closely."

Luna nodded and folded the letter. She wrote her address on the front and pulled out her wand and warded and cursed the letter against anyone but the person to whom it was addressed.

Harry's green eyes widened in appreciation. "That's so cool," he whispered, "Would you teach me?"

She nodded and took him through the symbols, the syllables, the intentions, and the wand movements.

Luna loved how Harry listened to her and asked for her to teach him.

No one else had ever taken her so seriously.

Hermione and Ron had stopped what they were doing to watch them, Harry and Luna were lost in their own realm.

oOo

The group split before curfew going to their separate towers.

Before she went Luna tapped her finger on the letter and asked Harry, "The Bard?"

Harry nodded.

With a sweet smile, she went up on tip toe and kissed Harry's cheek. She turned, skipping away before Harry could wish her goodnight.

Hermione and Ron gaped at Harry who was holding a hand to his cheek.

"You like her? " Hermione asked after a moment.

Harry whipped his hand down to his side, face flushing. " No ," he said embarrassed. He began to march towards their tower.

"Loony Lovegood?" Ron asked. " You like Loony Lovegood."

Harry's face was hot, but he shook his head, "Don't call her that. And no, we are just friends."

"It didn't look like just friendship to me," Hermione said with a smirk as Harry's ears glowed pink.

" No ," Harry said more firmly. Inside he was squirming. Luna was only fourteen. Ginny was only fourteen. Harry was eighteen and in two years he would be twenty and they would be sixteen. That would be too weird for him.

Ron, who had rarely seen Harry so teasable pressed, "Potter and Love good. Not a bad ring to it."

Harry walked faster.

"It's alright to have a crush, Harry," Hermione mused. "She seems to like you too."

Harry's heart sank. That wasn't a good thought, that wasn't a good thought at all. Harry had begun to truly depend on Luna's friendship, he didn't have to guard his thoughts or emotions from her and she didn't question him when he made slips about the future and she was the only one who didn't seem to need to know all his secrets to accept him. She didn't ask about the past or the future, Luna simply, blessedly only cared about Harry in the now.

The thought that she might develop feelings for him, feelings that he could not, or rather would not return made him sick.

"Oh come on, Harry, she'd make a great first girlfriend," Ron coaxed.

They were entering the portrait hole when Harry gritted out, "And why's that, Ronald?" It was a warning that should have tipped Ron off, Harry never ever used Ron's full first name.

"She's the only person in this school weirder than you are."

Harry stuck out his foot and Ron went sprawling into the common room. The twins and Lee who had seen them come began to laugh uproariously.

"Insensitive git," Harry snapped, heading up to bed not waiting for Ron to pick himself up off the floor.

Hermione was shaking her head as Ron got up.

"Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him," Ron mumbled to Hermione.

She just rolled her eyes and went to her own room.

The twins were still rolling around on the floor in fits of giggles.

oOo

Harry didn't sleep well that night.

On Thursday he had a class with Cho Chang and about half an hour in he was about ready to start screaming at her. The threats he made when he went into Ravenclaw Tower she seemed to think didn't apply to. At least not now that Marietta was sitting on the far side of the room.

But the next time Cho touched Harry's elbow he jerked aggressively away from her. He hissed, "Can you please stop touching me?"

Cho's face filled with hurt and her eyes seemed to brim with tears.

Harry ignored her, his thoughts were preoccupied with another Ravenclaw girl. 

He didn't like Luna, really, he couldn’t. Not like liked anyway. Or at least, he didn't think he did. Not the way he had liked Ginny or even had once been crushing on Cho. Cho, who was a sixth year and only two years younger than him.

Harry sighed. He hadn't thought his age would bother him so much but it did.

Or he felt like it should.

Because he hadn’t fully lived his future, not when some of the memories had begun to fade and those from fourth year were clearer than those from sixth.

Still, he needed to find a way to ensure Luna never felt more for him than he did for her.

He needed to talk to Sirius, or maybe Filius but that would be awkward. He wouldn't want to talk to his professor about girls.

Of course, I don't like her like that, so it shouldn't be a problem, should it? A voice in his head asked him cheekily.

But Harry didn't end up asking Filius and whatever uneasy feelings Harry had were assuaged by Luna herself in their Arithmancy class.

They discussed nothing but Arithmancy and the theory that DADA was really just part B of Charms class. Luna didn't try to touch Harry across the table, or flirt, or give him secret looks. She didn't lose her ability to talk around him or laugh at the things he was saying that weren't meant to be funny.

Luna didn't act like the girls after his growth spurt had, or like Cho, or like Ginny. 

In fact, now that he thought of it, he remembered when he had brought Luna to Slughorn's party and there had been nothing romantic between them. Nothing romantic at all. No, Hermione and Ron had just been having a go at him; Harry didn't like-like Luna. She was beautiful in her own way but Harry didn't feel uncontrollably attracted to her like he had once felt for Ginny. And Luna gave no sign that she thought of him as more than a friend either.

Nope, Harry and Luna were just that, just friends. Two weird people in a weirder world surrounded by people who were pretending to be 'normal' as if there were such a thing.

oOo

Dearest Darlingest Daisy Diary,

I think I like Harry. But I can't let him know. He's my only friend, the only person outside of Father who doesn't treat me like I'm something apart. But Dearest Darlingest Daisy Diary, I think I really like him.

Love Luna

oOo

AN: Thoughts, spinner dolphins, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

WARNING: Bullying and derogatory language.

P.S. I'm not changing the plot. If you didn't enjoy it the first time and are still reading this with hope I'll change it, please enjoy the riveting activity of kicking rocks ;D

Chapter 16 - Without You

The Nargles are gathering.

I knew Ginny wasn't my friend, she nearly blew my head off in BBCE, luckily I am getting better at shield charms. Cho has been setting traps in the fourth year dorm bathroom. I would tell her to stop but the strands of her magic are so easy to see I wonder if she's giving me practice in countercurse wards.

More people are joining BBCE. Nearly everyone from the fourth year to the seventh year is coming, they follow their classmates to the RR. I don't know if the RR can grow much bigger and I hope we don't get caught.

Father says Harry is a brilliant young man and would have been sorted into Ravenclaw had trouble not followed him around like Snuckerfish to the underside of a Gaia Turtle.

L.L.

oOo

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not having an easy time. Some of the teachers were easy enough to bully -Minerva McGonagall not among them, but it was the resistance of the students that made Dolores's reports so difficult.

A trend had been started–and when Dolores found out who they were, they would pay–that whenever she asked a question about the class or teacher the student -no matter the house, would start with "As compared to your class-" followed by some impressive backhanded insults.

"Compared to you, Professor Umbridge, Professor Snape is encouraging and warm hearted."

"Compared to your class, I'd say I am actually going to be able to pass my Care of Magical Creatures OWLs exam."

"Compared to DADA, Divinations is actually preparing us for the future, if only because Professor Trelawney is realistic about the dangers that exist in the world."

It rankled Dolores that she couldn't punish them but Minerva had pulled rank as Assistant Headmistress so although Dolores could give them a month of detentions Minerva was the one to decide what they did and most of her 'detentions' were a five minute time out in the corner to ponder what they'd done as Dolores raged in quiet observation from the shadows.

Her Inquisitive team consisted of two numb skulls from her old house. They didn't have two original thoughts to rub between them.

Dolores needed to find a way to gain real power at Hogwarts. The way to achieve this was clear; break Harry Potter. If his quiet leadership and influence were broken than this new and abnormal cross house unity would evaporate. Only through devotion did Umbridge have a chance of claiming this school as her own.

oOo

Voldemort was going to kill Peter Pettigrew. He was going to kill him slowly and painfully.

Voldemort rolled off the grubby couch onto the dusty floor with a thunk. "Wormtail!" he wailed, cursing that he, the Dark Lord, had been reduced to hiding in an abandoned apartment in Saudi Arabia dependent on one single insufferable Gryffindor to keep him alive, unable to so much as walk or feed himself.

"M'lord!" Wormtail cried, scrambling, and curse him, was he snuffling? No, he was on the brink of tears. Damn him. How had this pitiful creature ever had friends? He was truly insufferable.

"Get me off the floor!"

In Wormtail's shaking grip, Voldemort felt like he was being shaken like a child twirling an ant terrarium.

"Put me down!"

Wormtail dropped him back on the floor.

Ow.

Oh how he missed Quirrel. The jittering, garlic toting pansy had at least had the brains not smash his face against hard surfaces!

"On the couch, you blithering idiot!" Voldemort screeched.

Wormtail fell over himself putting the baby bundle, that was Voldemort, on the smelly couch, which he then began to roll off again.

"Securely!" Voldemort instructed.

Wormtail rearranged him, taking what once might have been considered a blanket to cover him up with.

"It's too hot here for that!"

Wormtail whipped the blanket off and again, Voldemort rolled to the floor with another thunk.

The worm would die for this humiliation. He would die a creative death, a most creative death indeed.

The only thing keeping Voldemort alive were the snakes Wormtail kept trapping on the edge of the desert. Drinking the venom of magical dessert snakes was enough to sustain this poor excuse for a body but he needed something stronger. Or something that could strengthen his spirit so he could possess the Boy Who Lived, for what better way was there to take over Britain than taking over the life of their hero.

In the meantime, however, Voldemort could only wish that he wasn't living on the edge of a desert city. How he longed to be living in one of the lush apartments they passed, the ones with air conditioning. The muggle contraptions were necessary when a wizard like Wormtail was your only means of magic. It had taken five hours of not so patient instruction of a muggle repellent warding to guard them against the dregs that wandered every city.

It would all be worth it in the end though for Harry Potter would be his. The boy may be guarded physically, but Voldemort had tasted his mind, his soul, and he would eat that soul and take his place in the Golden Boy's body. He had learned in the last year things no mortal knew and necromancy had nothing on dissecting a human soul.

oOo

Harry showed up to his Occlumency lesson with Snape that Friday night. He was surprised, however, when Snape directed Harry to follow him out of his office, and out of the dungeons.

After a few minutes of walking, Harry asked, "Why are we going to the hospital wing?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Snape snapped.

Harry didn't ask again but that didn't mean he agreed with it being a stupid question. As far Harry was aware he didn't need medical help so the question of why they were starting out their lesson in the medical wing had merit.

Madame Pomfrey greeted him like Harry had come to expect from Mrs. Weasley. Indeed, her treatment of him could be safely compared to a full out Mollycoddling.

She started handing him potions after she checked him with a number of spells, "You are doing much better than last year, but the damage is quite deep. My own fault for not recognizing your thin waist and weak bones for what they were. Even your trouble in school up to this year might be explained."

"Um… what are you talking about?" Harry asked. “My trouble in school has a direct relation to things trying to kill me or taking over the school.”

"Just drink the potions, Mr. Potter, it will explain itself. Trust me," she said.

Harry gave her a wary look. He trusted her but-

She huffed, hands on hips and continued, "Really Mr. Potter, Professor Snape brewed them. They are safe. He is the best Potioneer in the country."

Harry looked askance at the potion bottles in his hands, "Was that supposed to reassure me? Because it doesn't."

"Shut it, you little ingrate. Those potions took me two seasons to prepare," Snape growled with a scowl, though Harry could have sworn he saw a spark of amusement in his Professor's onyx eyes.

Figuring that if either of them had truly wished him harm they would have succeeded by now, he knocked the potions back, one after the other.

It was good he was already sitting on a cot because Harry was given no warning before his body decided that being conscious was what this moment called for.

oOo

Harry woke with a start, flinging himself off the cot.

"Good," Pomfrey said, looking up from her clipboard, "It worked."

"What worke-" Harry started to ask, wrapping his arms around his bare chest. Only it didn't feel like his fifteen year old body, it didn't feel like the body he'd transported back in time to.

Pomfrey waved her wand and summoned a mirror and Harry spun to look at himself. He was taller, nearly as tall as he had been when he was seventeen, but his skin. It was still tanned from his vacation but it was, well- he wasn't really sure anyone else would see it unless, like him, they had spent a lifetime, maybe two, with himself and he knew that this wasn't the way he looked. He was still lean, still had muscles from Defense and Quidditch practice but now he also had a layer of- of fat? Not bad fat or even the baby weight Neville still had but just a healthy layer of padding between his muscles and his skin. His ribs were no longer visibly protruding against his sides. His stomach was... softer. There had been points in his childhood where his stomach had bloated outward even if his gutt was aching from lack of food but this- Harry poked it. The pleasant give made him smile.

He looked average.

He didn't have the same face Hermione had called handsome in their sixth year, but his cheeks were now fuller, his adam's apple less visible, he still looked fifteen but Harry had never realised all the small indications that had truly meant he had never taken care of his body. No wonder Mrs. Weasley always treated him like he looked starved. He had looked starved and the months of good eating at Hogwarts were always undone by the summer of near fasting.

Harry turned back to Madame Pomfrey who was watching him with a sad smile. 

He marveled at how smooth his motions were, how his very joints felt- better, stronger. He still needed his glasses but even through the little glass panes, the world looked sharper as if the faintest of fogs had been lifted.

"Thank you," Harry breathed, even his thoughts felt less mirky, something he had never noticed because he had never been without. It was like having a handicap your entire life and suddenly being able to move without infringement.

Pomfrey shook her head and waved him away, "Don't thank me, Harry. I should have done this the moment you walked through- were carried through my door. I should have seen it." 

She was berating herself.

Harry pushed away from the bed and then pulled the mediwitch in for a hug. "Thank you for taking care of me Madame Pomfrey."

She hugged him back, she held him tightly for a moment before letting him go and shewing him towards the door. She threw him a new set of robs. "Get out of here and show your potion professor a little of that gratitude."

Harry widened his bright green eyes at her, "Are you instructing me to give Professor Snape a hug when I next see him?"

Pomfrey laughed and Harry pretended not to see the tears trailing down her cheeks. "If that's your scheme, you can wait for dinner so I can witness the chaos."

Harry blew her a kiss and jogged back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry?" Hermione called, "You're awake! You were in the hospital wing for two nights- what-" she got a good look at him. His taller frame, his fuller face. "What happened to you?"

Harry grinned, "Healing potions." He sprinted up the steps to his room, glorying in the strength of his body. He was back downstairs with his broom in hand.

"Harry? Wait, where are you-?" Ron called but Harry had already mounted his broom and escaped out a window.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in the air, falling in love with being alive and magic all over again.

oOo

Harry's progress in school skyrocketed. Where he had entered this school as an average student he was finally showing his colours. Colours that proved that he had always meant to be Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore's equal magically.

Though not all of his progress could be contributed to Snape and Pomfrey's healing potions. No, this Harry, as opposed to the Harry from a time before, had family and friends to confide in. Friend circles that expanded beyond Ron and Hermione or even Gryffindor house. Harry wasn't so much popular as he was welcomed. He was happy and his skill as a wizard and his kindness as a person made him likable, made others want to be like him.

Or with him.

Cho Chang and a now single Ginny Weasley were vying for his affections, as were a number of other girls and a select handful of boys. But there was one thing people seemed not to understand. A more open, more confident Harry still wasn't an overly trusting person. In fact, his innate shyness was starting to come out the more people starting hounding him for attention. He was fine to lead when the time called for it or to be the professor in a classroom setting. But Harry did not enjoy the social spotlight like he had briefly in his sixth year before dating Ginny.

"How do I hide from your sister?" Harry asked the twins.

They sniggered in answer.

Fred said, "There is no hiding from Ginny, it is either you relent or let her run you over."

"In other words, you're not going to help," Harry said, frustrated.

"Nope," they said in unison.

"I thought she had gotten over me?" Harry muttered.

"That would be before you became disearble number one," Hermione said from an armchair where she had been reading her book.

Harry flinched at the phrasing, folding in on himself. "I hate people," Harry muttered under his breath as he left the common room. He needed away.

Today was Halloween and the constant pestering of people was irritating. The Slytherins weren't so bad as they mostly took Harry's not so subtle hints about not wanting a following. The rest of the houses though…

Harry wandered the halls. It was a Thursday but everyone had the day off so the halls were mostly empty.

"Stay away from him!"

It was Ginny's voice and Harry slowed before turning around the next corner and listened carefully.

"He's my friend," pleaded a familiar voice.

Luna.

Harry wanted to go to her defense, but he knew as soon as someone saw him they would put on a false pleasant face to encourage his company, which typically did the opposite. Harry much preferred hanging out with Astoria who mocked anyone who found him attractive with gagging noises and disgusted looks. Or Susan, who had no problem tossing books and hexes at him when the opportunity presented itself. Or Luna who was simply herself.

"You little whore," another voice snarled, Harry wasn't as familiar with but he thought it might one of the seventh year Ravenclaw girls.

"That's a little harsh," Ginny scaled back, her own temper deflating as the other girl’s–or girls'–hostility rose.

"But she is a little vixen isn't she?" That one Harry knew was another fourth year girl from Gryffindor, though he couldn't remember her name.

The older Ravenclaw girl spoke again, "We've all seen the way he looks at you? We've seen you go out into the woods with him. What do you do with him? Do you like being on your knees? Spreading yo-"

Harry whipped around the corner so fast that he didn't even know what spell was striking the girl between her shoulder blades.

Stunner.

Luckily for them both, just a stunner.

She collapsed to the floor. 

Harry was so furious he was seeing red. He was striding towards the group and it broke his heart to see Luna backed up to the wall, her face shining with tears.

Harry's wand gravitated toward the nameless Gryffindor girl who he threw her away from them, careening into Ginny. They fell hard on the ground in a scramble of limbs.

Luna was shaking slightly, her wand forgotten held loosely at her side. Harry thought it likely that she hadn't quite been ready to raise her wand at Ginny, a girl Luna had grown up with as neighbours and who had been the closest thing she had to a friend before Harry came along.

Harry took Luna's other hand, it was worryingly clammy, and rested  it in his hand. Her breathing was shallow, her pale eyes were too wide.

Harry looked toward Ginny with a level of revulsion and outrage he thought he had reserved only for Wormtail.

Ginny looked up at him, distraught, her face a mask of shame. She opened her mouth but Harry beat her to it.

"You bitch."

She gaped at him.

Harry wasn't a child anymore, not a young teen who didn't understand the long term effects that squabbles in school could lead to in life. One had to look no further than Snape for such an example. It didn't matter to Harry that Ginny was Ron's sister who had made a childish mistake acting out on her anger and confused feelings. It didn't matter that Harry had loved her once, he loved her no longer. He wanted nothing more to do with her. 

He didn't always have to be the bigger person. He didn't have to be friends with everyone.

If it was a choice between everyone and the handful of cherished people, Harry was going to be the selfish bloke who swore at teenage girls for being mean and pathetic.

Harry gently tugged on Luna's hand, she stumbled forward. Harry let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he led her away from the speechless Gryffindor girls and the stunned seventh year girl sprawled in the hallway.

Luna didn't say anything as they walked, but a steady flow of tears trailed silently down her face.

Harry led them to the kitchensq. He hushed the well-meaning elves but politely asked for tea and some sweets.

Harry sat beside Luna on a small bench. Her eyes stared blankly out into space.

"Luna?" Harry asked softly. He didn't make the mistake of asking her if she was okay. She so clearly wasn't.

"Why didn't I fight back?" She asked blankly. Her eyes suddenly focusing on him, had darkened to a stormy grey. It was oddly beautiful and uniquely Luna for her eyes to have such a range of shades and hues. "I had my wand, why didn't I fight back?" she asked and if Harry hadn't been looking into her face he would have described her question as disinterestedly academic.

"They weren't, at least at first, going to hurt you physically, I don't think, and Ginny was your friend," Harry explained carefully. He had intimate experiences being ganged up on. The first time Dudley's friends had raised fists against him, the other boys had seemed almost fearful. When there were no punishments for them, that fear had turned to glee.

“Crimes of opportunity,” Harry tried to explain. “Sometimes a group of people don't intend to go as far as they are capable of going. It is still wrong though, and you don't deserve to be talked to like that, much less cornered.”

"Ginny is not my friend," Luna said very sharply.

Harry nodded, "I know that."

"So why?" she asked again, "Why didn't I fight back? Why didn't I defend myself?"

It was a question he had asked of himself but he had an easier answer for Luna. He cupped one of her wet cheeks in his hand, the contrast between their skin tones was notable. "I've seen you battle Death Eaters and hold up to torture and be brave and true and unabashedly you through it all. You are quite capable of knocking together the heads of a few bullies but you shouldn't have had to. And you shouldn't be ashamed that in face of your classmates that your first instinct wasn't to hurt them."

She took Harry's hand in both of hers, pulling his touch away from her face. "They were wrong about the things they said I did with you but I don't care what people say or think. I will not stay away from you," she declared, raising her chin in defiance, as if daring him to argue with her.

Harry looked at her for a moment in awe before he smiled, his chest warming, “I'm glad. I think I would be lost without you."

Her face crumbled and she fell into Harry's arms crying, sobbing. Only her tears were silent but for her small gasps of air. Harry held her, rubbing her back in soothing circles. He knew from experience that the only reason someone cried like this was when 

grief took over their entire body but stopped short of voicing their pain because there were people in their lives not meant to hear, not meant to see, or know that they grieved.

Harry held her close, wishing he could protect her against everything that could make her cry like this and knowing he couldn't. He settled for hoping she would allow him to be here for her, whenever she needed someone.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, snuckerfish, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: This first part wasn’t in the original :D

 Inspiration for title: ‘Rainy Day People’ by Gordon Lightfoot

Chapter 17 - Rainy Day People

One thing or another kept Snape and Madame Pomfrey out of the line of sight of each other.

But the day Harry saw his opportunity, he took it.

“Professor!”

Snape turned as Harry caught him in a full embrace, although he was careful to hug the man’s arms to his side. 

“Potter, ” Snape hissed as the hall fell silent.

Harry looked up at him and smiled, “Thank you for brewing those healing potions for me!”

Snape shook him off and Harry sprang back ready to reach for his wand in defense. “I didn’t brew them for you. They were just costly.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you, regardless, Sir.”

There was a silence in the hall followed by a cackling from none other than Madame Pomfrey at the Head Table.

Some other chuckles from the student body but they were quelled instantly by Snape’s glare as he turned away in a dramatic flare of capes.

The student body mostly forgot about the incident, Harry Potter had done many strange things and hugging a professor, even one he hated, didn’t make the top ten.

Among the other professors, however, they never let Snape live it down.

oOo

Luna knocked on Professor Flitwick's office door.

"Come in!" called his cheery voice.

Luna liked Professor Flitwick, liked him more than Harry trusted him.

Flitwick looked up at her surprised, "Miss Lovegood, what a lovely surprise. What can I do for you?"

It was Friday and classes had resumed as normal. Right now, everyone else was at lunch.

"I need to talk with you, Professor."

A more serious expression stole over the kind man's face.

"Come sit, would you like some tea, my dear girl?"

She nodded. Outwardly her hands were steady, inwardly? She doubted this was the right thing to do, but Harry had urged her to go to Flitwick while Harry himself was seeking out McGonagall at the moment. One way or another, Flitwick would know what had happened.

Luna took her tea, adding four sugar cubes and a dab of milk.

Flitwick watched her, with worry but also with a measure of patience that was settling her nerves. He was quiet but not rudely so. She let the silence fill with peace as he stirred his tea. She watched him take a few sips every now and then, enjoying the tea and her company.

She realised as she sipped her own tea that she didn't have to tell him, he wouldn't force her. They could spend the entire period before his next class drinking tea and he would never bring it up again.

He was kind.

It touched her and invited her to speak.

"Yesterday Calli Hinterland, Gena Daner, and Ginny Weasley cornered me in the hall," she said, keeping her focus a bit unfocused so she could see both his face and his chest (where all movement begins).

Professor Flitwick stilled.

Unhappy.

Worried.  

Yet his tone remained calm, "What happened?"

She shook her head, her gaze fixing on his directly. She didn’t dare take her eyes off him, not even to blink, it was important she knew how he would react; important that he deserved Harry's trust. 

"Nothing Harry saved me."

Flitwick breathed, deep, controlled, and exhaled in a soft gust before answering, "What did he save you from?"

"They told me to stay away from Harry. Daner called me a whore and Calli, Calli asked if I was going into the woods with Harry to- to-"

She didn't mean for it to happen, she had not given her permission for her shoulders to shake, but she didn't even know why it had affected her so. She liked Harry, really liked Harry but she didn't want him like that, not exactly. She didn't want–

Not before.

She wanted to like and be liked. The other things… she wasn’t ready to be that close to anyone in that way.

"Ms. Lovegood," Flitwick called softly.

Luna blinked too fast, she was being foolish.

She didn’t even remember looking away, "I don't know why I care, they were just words."

"Menacing a classmate and harassing their character while inferring things about their dear ones is not a matter of simple words. Remember that wars may be fought with weapons but they start and end by the power of words exchanged between people."

She took a drink of her tea, the warmth and the sugar soothing her insides. She imagined white sparkles rising from her teacup. They danced in the steam illuminated by the diminishing sunshine, easing the tension between her brows.

Flitwick gave her the time she needed and didn't ask his next question until she looked up to meet his gaze again. "What did Harry do?"

Harry , not Mr. Potter.

Flitwick cared for him, although she wasn't sure if that care was of anticipation to be upset with or concerned for Harry.

"He stunned Calli, levitated Daner and threw her at Ginny. And he swore at Ginny."

Flitwick smothered an upward twitch of lips quickly but Luna saw his approval nonetheless. He was on Harry's side, her side. 

"How would you like to handle them, Ms. Lovegood?"

She raised one fair eyebrow, "You would do what I would suggest?"

"Not necessarily, there are bounds of reason, I being a professor. However, I would hear what you think and feel about the matter."

"I don't want you to do anything," Luna said truthfully.

"No?" Flitwick asked and raised a brow. 

She liked his eyebrows; they were white and bushy.

"I only came here because Harry said I should and that he was going to tell Professor McGonagall."

"Really?" he asked, tone light.

Luna glared at him, "You don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you, my dear," he said easily but said nothing more.

Luna put down her empty cup on the desk between them. She rocked back in her chair a bit and as the silence continued she began to fidget. It would be rude to dismiss herself but Flitwick wasn't saying anything, just waiting.

She sat on her hands.

Ten minutes passed and still Flitwick said nothing.

Luna's thoughts had descended into a turmoil of excuses to be able to leave politely and run from the shadows she saw creeping in the corner of her eyes. They weren't moving but she was ready for them to.

"Luna, is there anything else that has happened you would like to discuss?"

Her focus spun back to him, her thoughts stalling before whirling into seven separate thoughts. "About what?" she asked evenly.

"Is anyone else from our house causing you trouble?"

Luna did not say a word.

Flitwick sighed, "I'll take that as a yes."

She still didn't say anything.

Flitwick changed tack, "You've been spending a lot of time with Mr. Potter?"

Luna wasn't sure where this was going but nodded.

"He's kind to you?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Of course, he is my friend."

"Harry's friends aren't always nice to him," he noted.

"I don't understand that," she said shortly.

"He's mature for his age and he changed a lot over the summer."

She was waiting for the trap he was setting.

"Does Harry ever make you feel uncomfortable?"

"Never," Luna said automatically, though it was not the complete truth. The truth was that she was so comfortable with Harry it was uncomfortable because she didn't know if he felt the same. They had spent all night playing chess in the kitchens. He also hadn’t been scared away when she cried.

"You don't find his secrets burdensome?" Flitwick asked.

She tilted her head, realising for the first time that this professor might know more about Harry, at least more about Harry's life, than she did.

Harry knew things but that had just become a part of who he was to her. A person who bent shadows and light because he had been bent by them. He knew things that hadn’t happened yet, and she knew to believe him even though he seemed afraid that he would not be believed.

Professor Flitwick might have a more explainable reason for Harry than her own assumptions.

"Harry could never be a burden, we walk together," Luna said.

Flitwick's blue eyes seemed to search hers, his lips narrowing, "You care for Harry."

"Yes."

"I do not presume to know much about your relationship with him outside of friendship but if Harry ever makes you feel presur-"

"Harry would never-" Luna protested but Flitwick silenced her with a raised hand.

"My dear, I merely want to remind you that your mind and body are your own. Only you get to decide if, who, and when someone crosses your boundaries. Harry is a good person but I am your Head of House. If there is ever trouble, if you ever need someone to listen, I will be here for you," Flitwick said solemnly. “No matter what.”

"You're saying even though Harry is one of your favorite students, that you will still hear me even if our stories, one day, for a reason that will never happen, are different that I might come to you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you,” she said simply.

"What else have students been doing to you?" Flitwick asked directly this time.

She frowned at him, noticing the condensation on the windows, "Was the hallway not enough?"

"I have been a teacher for many years and I know that many little things can be more painful than the great big ones."

"Cho Chang has been trying to spell my bed curtains and there are a lot of whispers around her."

"I shall speak with Ms. Chang as for the whispers… I realise their words may hurt. I just hope you don't let them define you."

"I am defined, what they see with their eyes isn't much. Truly blind people often see more."

Flitwick nodded, "Thank you for coming to me, Ms. Lovegood. I hope you will tell me if things develop further in the future."

Luna stood, bowed her head and left.

She felt surprisingly better, she had never gone to a professor for help before. Father said people so rarely listen close or long enough to understand.

She touched the stones as she walked, imagining the essence of each stone reaching to touch her hand in return.

Hogwarts a living place, uniform in a way the outdoors wasn’t. She preferred the outdoors, so that’s where she went.

She closed her eyes, smelling the damp air as she turned her face up to the sky. It was raining, it would rain all day, the sky gods crying, never able to rest on earth, always above, always out of reach. Only their grief and rage could connect those above with those below through the pondering of a breeze or the rising of a tempest.

Luna loved the rain, the way the air felt real enough to hug her. She held out her arms and spun. 

She smiled; to live was a good thing, people could disappoint, but the Earth was good, so it was good to live to know her.

oOo

Her next class was Transfiguration she shared with Ginny. Her shoulders hunched and she wouldn't so much as look in Luna's direction. Gena had looked at Luna once, with a look of fear and loathing.

Luna imagined grey and red energies tugging on their hair, prodding at their spines.

Luna hoped they didn't prod too hard, she didn't want either girl more angry at her.

McGonagall’s jade eyes that had been watching Luna with sympathy turned on the two girls with fury. The professor dropped the box on the other girls’ desk with a forceful bang.

The box had been holding stones they would be using for their spells. McGonagall leaned her tall body forward, like a crane moving slowly, ready to strike at the fish swimming around her legs.

"I will be writing home to both your parents. You do not have detention, but so help me if I hear anything of the nature of yesterday's incident again, missing house points will be the least of your worries," she whispered, loud enough that only a few people overheard.

By the end of class, Luna's white and blue teapot was illustrated with pretty cranes catching hapless fish.

Luna loved fish as much as cranes, but cranes needed to eat, and fish ate fish.

Luna had her last block off and went searching for Harry. She followed the bend in the world where the light coming in from the windows was brighter, the shadows more submissive.

She found him in an empty hallway past the entrance to the Divination Tower. There were no paintings or portraits down this hall and it was a dead end. There was only a supply closest that Filch was known to use when he was cleaning this side of the building.

The window here overlooked the lake and the mountain range, corners of the roof of the castle partially obscured that view. 

Harry was sitting on the wide sill staring at the visible parts of the castle, his breathing was tight as if it were a prisoner in his chest, reluctant to escape for fear that reality might be worse than the container it occupied. One of his legs was pulled to his middle, his arms wrapped around it, his chin resting on his knee.

"Hi Luna," Harry greeted, though he continued to watch the rain fall.

Luna sat on the sill across from him. Her legs swinging a bit, the floor was a few inches away from her toes.

"I spoke with Flitwick," she said.

Harry's gaze broke away from a memory she could not imagine. His emerald eyes focused on her looking like polished jewels glimmer beneath a spring born stream. 

"I spoke with McGonagall,” he said.

"She was nice to me in class."

"She said she wouldn't severely punish them because then she would have to punish me for dueling in the halls and throwing people into other people."

"She said she would write their parents notes though," Luna said, thinking that perhaps would be the worst punishment.

Harry's eyes danced with light, "She wrote Sirius a note too." 

He found the idea funny.

"I would like to meet him," she said.

Harry smiled then, genuine pleasure; caused by her. 

"I would like that too."

She swayed side to side for a moment. "I know it's a bit early, but my father invited you and your godfather to our house for Yule."

"You know Sirius is still on the run, right? He's innocent, but he could still cause you trouble."

"Father painted a picture of four blobs, one orange, one lavender, one green, and one grey-blue running away from black shadows. He knows the minister is after you and the risks."

Harry paused, mulling it over before he grinned, "You're lavender, Xeno is orange, I'm green because you told him my eye color and because he hasn't met me yet, and that leaves grey-blue as Sirius."

She smiled back, glad he understood. Some paintings were just paintings, emotions in hues and shades, but others were messages that outsiders would not bother to decode. "Most people in the Black line have either grey-blue eyes or brown. But I think Father went to school with Sirius. He was a few years ahead."

"Cool," Harry said, continuing shining happiness at her. 

Luna liked that Harry seemed to like her father. Not a lot of people did. But then, not a lot of people liked her either.

"So will you?" she asked.

"I'll have to ask Sirius, but I would love to, and I’m sure he’d love to, too. I think the Weasleys wanted me to come to their home, but I don't want to, not after yesterday."

"Are you in trouble with them because you hurt Ginny?"

Harry shrugged, "Maybe, it doesn't look like Ginny told any of her brothers what happened and I don't know how McGonagall worded her letter to Mrs. Weasley. I don't really care. Ginny was wrong to do what she did."

"Even if you lose Ron as a friend?"

He rolled his eyes, "That happens every other season."

"Gred and Forge?"

Harry's smile faded a bit, but he said, "Luna, you mean more to me than anyone’s opinion of me."

Her heart raced, and unlike the first time, Harry had said that they were friends, forever and always once.

She knew why her heart was galloping now. She wondered if his was, her fingers tingled with the phantom desire to discover for herself, all she would have to do is take his hand with hers.

"You mean more to me too," she said, angling herself towards him, like lily leaves towards the sun.

His face seemed to brighten a bit with color, but he didn't move his chin off his knee, he didn't move away from her.

"Harry?"

He tilted his head a bit, "Luna."

She moved her face closer to his, this close there was no glare on his glasses, and she could see more than just the pretty color of his eyes. He was so beautiful to her. The more she got to know him the more beautiful he became.

Her heart was in her throat as she leaned closer to him still. He didn't move away. Both their breaths were shallow, quiet, the only sound was the roaring of blood in her ears and the delightful pat, pat of raindrops on the castle shingles beyond the open window.

She was about to do something she couldn’t take back.

But it felt right.

Besides, Harry had been wise and witty for her, she could be brave for him.

For herself.

She wanted to be wanted, she wanted to let herself want things she never imagined for herself. And she trusted this boy to take no more than she gave her him.

She wanted to follow her heart, she wanted to taste of her own fear on a breath of chance, in a shimmer of hope that her feelings were matched not illusion.

Luna let her eyes close as crossed that final distance, her lips finding his.

Harry's lips were soft where they met hers. He tasted sweet as he held still for her wordless question.

She was the one to pull away first. She searched his face, desperate for reassurance that she had not messed up. She was kneeling and looking down into his stunned gaze.

He looked at her like she was the most marvelousest, most beautiful person he had ever seen. She had never felt lovely in her life until she had seen that expression on this man's face.

Her heart burst, her being filled with liquid joy. Harry rose up, dropping his leg and reaching out to her. 

She met him halfway for the second kiss, and it was better. The sensation of his lips parting under hers stole away her thoughts, every inch of her skin tingling. She was lost in him. His arms encircled her and she felt safe.

Unequivocally safe.

She didn’t know that a kiss could feel like this.

They parted to catch their breaths.

Harry cupped her face between his palms, pausing to run a hand down her soft curls. He looked at her with something she could only name as adoration as he began, "Luna, I-"

She ducked out of his grasp. Standing, her heart pummelling in innards, her feet feeling as if they had no attachment to the ground whatsoever, she said, "Harry, I like you. I like you a lot."

And then she turned away from him, sprinting down the halls at full speed, not to get away but because she wasn't sure she could handle any more happiness without combusting into flame.

oOo

Harry watched her go with an amused smile, knowing better than to chase after her. She wasn't running away from him, after all.

He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. His pulse was still hammering.

Harry, I like you. I like you a lot.  

Her words played over and over again in his mind, the touch of her lips still warm on his smile.

He pressed his forehead to the cool stone pane. "Luna," Harry whispered, his heart giving a sharp squeeze to let him know that this was real. "I really, really like you too."

Harry had never loved the rain as much as he did that day.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, snow leopards, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: Quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows near the end.

Chapter 18 - Lost Boys

Hedwig visited Luna at dinner with a note from Harry, apologizing for not being at dinner. He didn't give a reason, but Luna didn't need one. He would tell her why later or he wouldn't. She was simply glad he thought to tell her.

Hedwig stayed on Luna's shoulder, watching the students around them in every direction. Nobody screwed with Harry's owl, for a number of reasons; first, the snowy owl was uniquely beautiful, second, Harry was known to be good in a duel and would likely lose the remainder of his sanity at anyone who tried to hurt his familiar, and third… Hedwig was capable of dealing out her own damage.

No one really wanted to lose a finger.

Luna ate contently, appearing to all as the living embodiment of the wisdom Goddess Athena with her owl.

oOo

"Sirius!" Harry called, walking into the kitchen after thanking Kreacher for bringing him here.

"Harry!" Sirius cheered, rounding the corner to near-tackle Harry in a bear hug. 

Sirius wrapped him in a tight bear hug, "How are you?"

Harry grinned, "Good, great, wondrous, and apprehensive. You?"

Sirius chuckled, giving a strange look to the cracks in the wallpaper before shaking himself free of whatever thought that was holding his attention. He waved over to the table as he went to the stove. "Better now that you're here. Are you staying for the night or just for dinner?"

"Dinner," Harry sighed. "I have Occlumency with Snape tonight."

Sirius made a pained face. "I wish I knew the wards my Mother put on my mind to give to you. Unfortunately, that knowledge is passed down only through the females in our family."

Harry sighed again. "I don't suppose Narcissa Malfoy would help me?"

Sirius shook his head, "Andromeda might but I haven-" He sighed, "I haven't reached out to her."

"How about Tonks?"

Sirius smiled sadly. "Andromeda was all for kicking tradition, but it isn't something the Black mothers would teach until and unless their daughters had daughters."

"How do you even know about it, then?"

"My dearest mother kept cursing at me that she regretted she couldn't remove my mental shields without killing me."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh." He pinched his nose, "Your mum sounds even worse than Uncle Vernon."

"She was definitely a charmer."

"She has a boy by the way," Harry said, accepting the grilled cheese Sirius had whipped up.

Sirius frowned. "Who?"

"Tonks. They name him after her dad. My godson's name, therefore, was Teddy Remus Lupin. I never got to meet him."

Sirius almost dropped his plate. "Wait, back up. You're telling me, my niece, my niece who is thirteen years younger than me, has a baby with Remus?"

"Yep. I think they get engaged in two years. Before the baby."

Sirius sank into his chair. "No kidding," he said, a bit dazedly.

"Don't approve?" Harry asked.

"No, I mean, it's fine, the age difference is pushing it a bit, after all, Remus couldn't be described as a young thirty by any stretch of the imagination, but it's more- it's just I never saw Moony being in a committed relationship. He doesn't have enough self-worth."

Harry snorted. "He tried running away from her after he knocked her up. I may have lost my temper with him. Next time I saw him he asked me to be Teddy's godfather all aglow with being a father."

Sirius's face fell, "Didn't you say-"

"Tonks and Remus died at the battle at Hogwarts. So did I, so I get zero godfather points."

"I passed you off to half-giant and got myself arrested."

"Yeah, but you're here now," Harry shot back.

Sirius raised a brow, "So are you."

Harry looked away, the silence stretched between them.

Harry took another bite of his grilled cheese sandwich.

"So, are you going to tell Snape?" Sirius asked as he began eating his sandwich.

"Nope, I am going to shove useless memories in his face until I figure out how to get him out of my mind."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then he finds out."

"I hate to say this, Harry, but I think we can trust Snape."

Harry made a face. "Why? And don't you dare say because Dumbledore trusts him . I would rather tell McGonagall or Pomfrey before Snape."

"I think by now, Snape mistrusts Albus enough and is building a tolerance for you that he might be willing to keep your secrets, even from the Headmaster."

“Might,” Harry said sardonically even as he thought of what he had done to Snape Monday morning. He highly doubted that the man’s had any tolerance for him at the moment. He sighed, "I suppose I don't really have a choice in the end."

Sirius stood and went back to the stove to make Harry another sandwich. "It will work out. We know at least that Snape isn't on the Dark Lord's side. And it gives me an excuse to pick a fight with the greasy bat if he does try to go blabbing to Albus."

Harry had nothing to say to that and took a deep swig of water.

Returning to the table with two more sandwiches, Sirius asked "Enough about Snape, why were you glowing when you came in?"

"I wasn't glowing," Harry protested.

"You were skipping and had a stupid grin on your face, is that better?"

"I was not skipping."

"Harry," Sirius whined.

"I kissed a girl. Or rather she kissed me and then I kissed her back."

"Ohh- two kisses!" Sirius said, ecstatic, "Was it the Lovegood girl you mention so often in your letters?"

Harry flushed. "Luna."

Sirius barked with delight. "You are head over heels for her, aren't you? Was she a good snog?"

Harry shook his head. "The kiss- kisses- I've never felt like this before. I'm not really sure if I'm in love with her yet, but she's… she's amazing."

Sirius grinned, "Not in love with her yet , oh Harry, you're a goner."

"I think I'm okay with that."

"When did this happen?"

"'Bout two hours ago."

"So why aren't you with her now?"

"I'm not sure… that is–I’m not sure if I'm doing the right thing with her,” Harry said in a rush.

"How do you mean?"

"The time travel-"

"I thought you have been sharing with her. It is only a matter of time before she figures it out. You trust her, right?"

"More than I trust anyone aside from you. But that's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

"Sirius, I am four years older than her. Which isn't a big deal if we were both older but she's only fourteen and I'm technically a legal adult."

Sirius's lips twitched, his shoulders started to shake, and a few moments later, he was rolling on the ground with laughter. Barking up a storm.

Harry glared at him. "This isn't funny."

Sirius snorted and laughed on. Between gasps, he was finally able to speak in words, "She's-" he sniggers, "-a witch."

"I know she's a witch!" Harry said indignantly. "We go to Hogwarts together!"

Sirius rolled onto his back, looking up at Harry still in his chair. Sirius's long curls were spread around him like a dark halo on the wood floors. "She's a witch from an old wizarding family," he said, now coherent. "Harry, witches have gotten engaged before their tenth birthdays. Hell, Harry, my parents were second cousins. They were both Blacks before getting married, their grandparents were siblings. A four-year age gap is nothing, and Harry, you may be mentally older but you're still in the body of a fifteen-year-old. Your body is less than a year older than hers. You have nothing to feel weird about."

"Just because the wizarding world is two hundred years behind the modern world doesn’t make it right. I’m too old for her."

Sirius sat up straight in his seat and met Harry’s gaze without any trace of mirth. "No, you listen to me. I know you, I know you’ve changed, I know you carry in your soul more tragedy, that you are more mature than the other boys in your age group. But you are still a fifteen-year-old boy. Your emotions are too high to the service, your mood swings to pronounced. You may have the memories of of your older self, but you are not him.”

“How do you know that?” Harry demanded.

“Because when I was sixteen I ran to James, when I was twenty-one toward death. You don’t look at the girl you’re falling in love with thinking of marriage but friendship. If you were an adult your thoughts would be more complicated and your emotions less overwhelming.”

“And you were more sensible when you broke into Hogwarts during my third year?”

“Yes, I could say rage drove me, but it was my thoughts I could not bring myself to terms with. You still have time to be a child, Harry, a proper teenage. So much has been taken from you, and you have given so much.”

“That doesn’t mean I deserve Luna.”

“Deserve her? No. Deserve a chance with her? I think that’s for her to decide, don’t you?”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

Sirius let out a breath, “I know Xeno from school, you know? He was older than me, so I never shared the same circles as him, but I knew Pandora better. Kind people. Brilliant in their own ways, but neither had a lot of friends. Which I never truly understood with Pandora; Pan could enter a room, and the air would be sweeter for her presence, the lights brighter. I think she intimidated people."

"Why weren't you friends then?"

"She thought I was a git," Sirius said with a grin, unabashed in his troublemaker ways.

"Why would she ever think that?" Harry asked sarcastically, but he was grinning too.

"From your letters and from what you've told me about her, I can tell that Pan's daughter is much of the same and from your letters, I also know that you don't have a friend who makes you happier or someone whose company you enjoy more than Miss Luna Lovegood’s."

Harry ducked his head, "Yeah."

"So as someone who loves you, I am telling you not to screw this up because of some fabricated problem that doesn't exist. You are not too old in body or mind to start anew. Just take things slow."

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked. "You've never met her."

"Harry," Sirius sighed. "Someone who watches their mother die at an early age is unlikely to lack maturity."

Harry stared at his empty plate as he properly chided himself for not thinking of Luna’s childhood. Wasn't that why she had been crying last night? Not because some jerks had been picking on her but because she didn't feel like anyone understood her? Because she kept more pain bottled up inside than would ever show on the surface?

"It's okay, Harry…” Sirius said gently. “It's okay to let yourself be happy."

Harry looked up at his godfather. "I just don't want to hurt her. I don't know what promises I am ready to make her yet. But it would destroy me to cause her harm."

Sirius nodded. "Opening our hearts is always a risk, Harry. But don't shut down because things might break down. Ask instead; of all the people you know, who would you want to make mistakes with? Who do you want to grow up with? Who do you want, whether it works in the end or not, to shape you? Romance isn't a game of chance, it's a series of choices and circumstances we invite into our lives."

Harry's shoulders slumped, a small smile blooming on his face. "There is no one I would rather be with than Luna and I want her in my life."

"Then let what happens, happen," Sirius said smiling back.

"I didn't expect you to be this good at girl advice," Harry remarked.

Sirius's eyes turned sad, but his smile remained. "Oh, my personal advice, based on my experiences will have to wait until the conversations where you aren't worried about the girl's- er well, we will get to it in a few years. The heart and flowers advice comes from your Dad. James gave me a long, long talk about the proper way to court a lady once."

"About someone specific?" Harry inquired.

A shadow crossed Sirius's face. "She was murdered a year after we graduated."

"Sirius, I'm sorry-"

Sirius waved Harry's words away. "It's done with. Just don't make my mistake, and never talk about your feelings. I know your Luna seems to get you on an instinctual level but she's still a girl and girls like giving emotions voice. I'm not saying you have to write her poetry or any nonsense like that. Just, if you have worries or fears or tiny, happy, seemingly irrelevant thoughts… sharing those things make them feel more comfortable, more secure in a relationship. Otherwise, they start guessing and thinking every tiny action you do to death."

"Seriously?" Harry exclaimed, "where were you when I first tried dating?"

Sirius laughed. "This wasn't explained to me by your parents until a girl sent me home smelling like a wasted cherry margarita. Lily would always give these lengthy explanations that I would drift off in and James would translate it later. James was the love guru in the group. However, Lil's would always point out that it took him seven years to have a simple conversation with her. To which Prongs would inevitably end up saying, 'Yes, but now you are carrying my spawn, so I win.' Your mother gave him quite a few hex burns while she was pregnant. It's a wonder James survived to see you born at all."

Sirius's eyes drifted off to the past and Harry replayed every word over in his mind like new found treasures. The trick with Sirius was not to ask direct questions too often as he would get sad and melancholy. But sometimes an unprompted Sirius would share anecdotes that turned the fairy-tale figures of his parents into being once-living people.

Not wanting to change the topic but glancing at his watch, Harry knew he would have to leave soon.

"Xeno invited us to their house for Yule."

Sirius's focus sharpened, and his lips tightened. "I'm not sure that is a good idea, Harry."

Harry tried not to let his disappointment show. "That's alright, I'm sure they will understand if we don't go."

Sirius sighed, "It isn't that I wouldn't like to. But the papers will not shut up with the speculation of your one-week disappearance. If you go to your girlfriend's house for Yule, I would not be surprised at all if the Ministry paid the Lovegood's a visit. I don't want to put anyone in those circumstances."

Luna wasn’t his girlfriend, but the thought made something flutter in his chest.

Harry nodded. "That's what I told Luna."

"Tell you what though, I'll reach out to old Xenophilius and see if we can't arrange something. Unfortunately, Dumbledore is secret keeper or else I would simply invite them here."

"I understand." He looked at his watch again, "I have to get going or I am going to be late."

Sirius stood as Harry did, giving Harry another bear hug. "Thanks for sharing dinner with me, kiddo."

Harry gave him a half smile. "I will be here so often, you may get sick of me."

"Never," Sirius said, his tone lacking the humor Harry's comment had invited.

oOo

Since returning to the past, Harry had been practicing clearing his mind before going to sleep and controlling his emotions, but as he descended the steps to the dungeons alone, the old resentments and fears rose.

He knocked on the door and Snape's response was sharp.

He's still mad about Monday, Harry thought and had to bite his cheek to keep from entering Snape's lair with a grin.

The professor jabbed a finger toward the chair. "I warn you, Potter, I don't care how painful the memories get this time. You will stay until we have made some progress."

Harry kept his mouth shut but all he could think was, but you don't know how bad, bad can get.

"Prepare yourself," Snape instructed with the same amount of careful, detailed instruction he had in the last timeline.

Harry gripped the edge of the chair until his knuckles strained white and he was thinking of Monday when Snape's mind delved into his.

He remembered Madame Pomfrey’s laughter as Harry grabbed his Potion’s professor in a hug.

Snape verbally growled. 

The next memory Harry found turned out to be more problematic, as he was unable to push Snape out of his mind. In fact, the professor seemed to have renewed his efforts to break through his meager defenses.

Harry was soaring the skies on Buckbeak.

But that memory reminded him of soaring on Thestrals.

They were in the Department of Mysteries and Sirius was punching Lucius Malfoy and then Bellatrix was after them.

Harry could feel Snape's shock, his confusion, his curiosity.

Harry was soaring on the back of the bank dragon with Ron and Hermione.

Snape pushed further, looking for the why and the how.

Harry was using the Imperius curse on a goblin. Hermione was disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione was screaming, her tortured screams and Bellatrix's shrieking filtering down into the Malfoy dungeons.

Lucius was a crumpled mass at the Dark Lord's feet as Snape and other watched either stone faced or eager.

Draco was bleeding, the product of Harry not understanding the spells he'd found in Snape's old potions book.

Draco was telling Snape to go screw himself. Snape hissing "I made the unbreakable vow to keep you safe."

Slughorn was giving Harry Liquid Luck.

They were back at the Department of Mysteries.

Voldemort.

The prophecy.

Sirius falling into the veil.

The DA Club.

Dumbledore escaping in a flash of Phoenix flame.

The Death Eaters breaking out of prison.

In Snape's shock, in his horror, he released the spell.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Harry gasped. He was sweating. He would have to tell him now.

But Snape didn't wait for an explanation, he raised his wand again and took what Harry might have shared willingly. But this mental torment filled Harry with an old, deep, seething rage.

Fine, Harry thought at the Professor, you want to know? Well, here it is.

And rather than pushing Snape out, Harry yanked him in, slamming the door shut behind him. The memories went forward this time.

"Avada Kedavra."

Dumbledore was falling, dead before he hit the ground.

Snape was fighting off McGonagal, whose face was raw with broken fury and sorrow.

Nagini was killing Snape.

Snape was dying in Harry's arms and sharing with him his memories.

Harry fed those memories back to his professor now, hoping they caused the man pain.

He was holding Lily's body, crying as Harry wailed in the crib beside him

Snape was in Dumbledore's office.

'"I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —"

"But this is touching, Severus," said Dumbledore seriously. "Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"

"For him?" shouted Snape. "Expecto Patronum!"

From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded, he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.

"After all this time?"

"Always," said Snape."'

And then Harry showed Snape the dead. The ruin of the castle.

“You want to know?” Harry hissed in his mind, “ Look, how we failed. Look, what our choices led us to.”

Body after body. Children's bodies. Unidentifiable figures beneath the stones.

And then on Dumbledore's orders, Harry was walking to his own demise. The shades of his loved ones, of Lily leading him forward.

"So brave."

"Easier than falling asleep."

Harry did not fight. He let the Dark Lord kill him. The lamb at the altar.

Harry tossed Snape out of his mind. Shoved him out with such force that Snape was physically thrown back.

Harry wasn't the only one shaking this time. Snape looked positively ill.

Harry watched him try to stand before he fell back to his hands and knees. Snape retched on the dungeon floors.

Dumbledore's spy, Voldemort's pet Master Potioneer and double agent, could not stomach the future Harry had lived through.

Harry's rage faded. He hated this man for how he had always treated him, even if Snape had kept him alive, he did not by any stretch of the imagination like this man. But he did respect him, to some degree. 

Yet seeing him like this, knowing that it had to be a combination of Dumbledore's betrayal, seeing Lily, and the death of countless Hogwarts students that made him lose his composure?

Harry pulled his wand and vanished the sick from the floor, even as Snape stayed on his hands and knees dry heaving.

Harry got the man a glass of water and found a bit of fresh ginger that, after shaving with a clean knife, he was able to squeeze some juice into the water. Harry balanced on the balls of his feet as he crouched to held out the glass.

"Drink this," Harry instructed, his tone not all that sympathetic.

Snape panted, his eyes looking up at Harry. He looked lost.

Slowly he sat back on the floor, reaching out a shaking hand to take the ginger water from Harry's own trembling grasp.

After a long swallow, Snape asked, "How?"

"How did I time travel?" Harry repeated. "No damned clue. But then Vold- the Dark Lord-" Harry corrected himself, "should have been able to kill me as a baby."

"How do you cope?" Snape clarified.

Harry huffed a laugh and sat on the newly cleaned floor. "Being able to go back and correct my mistakes helped a lot. Cedric's alive, as well as the majority of the student body. So is my godfather. I would be- I don't know if I could even pretend to forgive myself if he wasn't alive."

Snape stared at him with a fathomless expression. "Why does Albus want you dead?"

"Ever hear of a horcrux?"

Almost impossibly, Snape's face went paler. His skin took on grey undertones.

"Yeah, well, the Dark Lord made seven of them. That's why we were breaking into Gringotts, by the way."

"But what does a horcrux have to do with your dying?"

Harry tapped his scar, which was only a faint white line in this reality. "I was one of the horcruxes. That's how he got access to my mind in the first place. Occlumency didn't help much though, you are a shitty teacher."

Snape didn't even pretend to care.

"So Albus reasoned that by the words of the prophecy, you would both have to die if one was to be defeated?"

"Yep," Harry said, rubbing his hands together.

Snape shut his eyes, an expression of pain crossing his features. "That ignorant old fool. There is more than one way to respond to the dark arts. One solution does not solve all."

"That's what Sirius said."

"So, we have to find a way to-"

"It's gone," Harry said shortly. "It didn't survive the trip through time. And the first thing I did when I came back was kill the other ones with the help of house-elves. I confided it all to Flitwick so don't waste your breath saying I shouldn't rely on just my own judgment. For very obvious reasons, though, I haven't gone to Dumbledore. Oh, and I killed Nagini."

Snape was quiet for a long time before he said, "You can go, Potter."

Harry stood, relieved. "Are you going to tell-"

"No." Snape's voice was harsh, "No, I'm never going to tell that bastard anything ever again. I did what I did for Lily, for you, Lily's son, not for the elaborate schemes of men too large to see the lives they destroy."

Harry retreated for the night, not knowing how to feel, but knowing he wasn't the person to hold Severus Snape's hand as the man's world and his illusions shattered around him.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, aussie puppies, or reactions, pretty please?

Chapter Text

AN: Holy shit, this chapter needed help, and I don’t like the direction I took in this story, however, unlike my new Disorder of the Phoenix fic, I am not changing the core events, just fluffing.

Chapter 19 - Resounding Defeat

Dear Darling Damsel Daffodil Diary,

I kissed Harry. Harry kissed me.

Love Luna

oOo

Harry did not wake until noon, and his punishment was being greeted by a headache. Stumbling half blind to the shower, he let the hot water pour on his shoulders for a long while before turning the spray to ice cold. His headache eased but he still felt empty, distant.

Still, he held hope as he made his way down to the Great Hall in time to perhaps get some food. 

His hopes were rewarded by the sight of Luna drinking a cup of tea, angling herself in her seat so she could see the doors.

She smiled at him when their gazes met.

Her joy chased away the phantom pain in his mind. He was drawn to her like a rogue meteor caught by the sun’s orbit.

Harry made it more than halfway to the Ravenclaw table before he was intercepted by Cho.

Harry barely recovered his forward momentum in time to prevent running into her.  He attempted to side-step her, but she persisted, placing herself into his path.

Harry halted and half glared at her, "Do you mind?"

"You are trying to sit at my table," she said, a dark look in her brown eyes.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "You haven't said anything about it before, and besides, there is no rule that states I can't sit at another house's table." He glanced over Cho's shoulders to give Luna a questioning look.

Luna's expression had gone passive, which worried Harry, enough so that he tried again to go around Cho before hearing her out. Once more, however, she stepped in his way.

"What is your issue?" Harry asked, starting to get frustrated.

"Ask me out," Cho demanded.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, not sure if he had heard her right.

"You like me," she told him.

Harry laughed, "No, I really don't." He backed away from her, not liking her proximity.

Cho flushed, but spoke as if his words hadn’t mattered. "Of course you do. You asked me out to the Yule Ball and I know you have had a crush on me for years. I am beautiful, you are the strongest boy in school. We belong together."

So much for Cho Chang being coy, but then their first date, all Cho had done was be jealous of Hermione, talk about her dead boyfriend, and cry. She was as tactless as Ron, yet with the emotions of Moaning Myrtle. Sure, Harry could cut her slack for losing Cedric, but in this reality, Cedric was alive, and Cho had dumped him.

"I am only going to say this once," Harry said, "I don't like you. I don't want to date you, and if you don't leave me alone-"

"You'll what?" she snapped, hands on hips, "You're a gentleman. You would never hurt me."

Harry had no idea how this had escalated to threats. Who threatens someone to date them anyway?

He was saved from answering, though, because Luna had appeared at his side, the rage in her now grey eyes was a beautiful thing to behold.

"He said he wasn't interested," she said firmly.

The Great Hall was pretty empty at this point, there were only a smattering of students and at the head table, only McGonagall, Vector, and Dumbledore were present. Everyone's attention was quite focused on Harry, Cho, and Luna.

Cho's face twisted, and however pretty she might be, Harry thought she looked quite ugly in that moment. "What does a friendless twit like you understand about boys?"

Harry wasn't sure what he expected Luna to say or do.

Her grabbing him by his tie and tugging him down for a kiss wasn't it, not that he was complaining. 

Harry forgot for a few breathless moments where he was, knowing only the gentle, certain touch of Luna's lips.

When they broke apart, he had to blink through the daze his mind was basking in. He couldn't remember what he had been talking about before Luna had kissed him.

He stared at Luna's beautiful face as she turned to face the other Ravenclaw girl.

"I know more than you," Luna said pleasantly.

Harry blinked at Cho's dumbstruck face, for a second before his brain caught up, "I'm with Lovegood," he said, grinning like an idiot.

Cho looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Human water hose , Harry thought caustically. His chest felt light as Luna led Harry by the hand to the Gryffindor table.

Luna was Harry's favourite person.

Lavender Brown looked at them in disgust, "Her? Of all the girls you could have possibly chosen, you choose her?"

Harry squeezed Luna's hand, "Yes, I chose Luna."

Her smile returned, and overwhelmed by his fondness for her, he bent to kiss her temple.

Luna blushed prettily, but she didn't avert her pale blue eyes from his green ones.

"Suppose this means we'll be seeing more of you then?" Ron asked. He was giving Luna an odd look as if trying to figure her out, or rather, Harry's attraction to her out. At least, he was not being hostile about it.

"Or even less," Hermione said somewhat sadly.

"Harry's been avoiding you because you remind him of things he cannot change while making him feel bad about the things that have changed," Luna said in her way of being radically truthful.

"What does that even mean?" Ron asked her.

But Hermione was looking at Harry.

Harry met her gaze, her dark brown eyes and made no excuses or denials about what Luna had shared.

"You changed over the summer," Hermione stated.

"I did."

"Why?"

Harry took in a deep breath, "I can't tell you here." 

I can't tell you ever.

Luna squeezed his hand tightly, grounding him. "You should eat. Odin's ravens are perched on your shoulders."

Harry picked up his fork and dug in.

oOo

"Do you even understand what she's saying?" Ron asked on their way to Quidditch practice.

"Most of the time," Harry said.

"How could you date someone you don't understand fully?"

Harry gave Ron a smirk. A part of Harry hoped Ron never dated Hermione, but if they did, Harry would be sure to remind him of this talk. "The idea of understanding someone fully is sort of far-fetched, seeing as everyone is always changing."

"You are starting to sound like her," Ron muttered and then, in a clearer voice, asked, "Do you believe in Nargles and all the other rubbish she spots?"

"Not all of it, but even if she's wrong about what something is, I haven't found that she has been wrong a single time about something being there."

"Do you think she's a seer?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said, firmly, "she's just the most observant person I've ever met."

"She didn't observe who stole her things."

"I didn't say she was superhuman, Ron."

"You really like her, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Ginny is going to be crushed," Ron mused.

Harry wasn't able to control his expression in time.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Harry, come on, what's up?"

"Oi!"

It was the twins.

"We heard-" George started.

"-you've been kissing-"

"Loony-

"Lovegood in the Great Hall," Fred finished.

"He has, but I want to know why he's mad at Ginny," Ron said, cutting the twins off.

"Mad at Ginny?" Fred repeated, taken aback. "Why would ickle-Harrikins be mad at Ginny?

"Is that why she's been so glum lately?" George asked. "She got a letter from Mum and has barely talked since."

Harry felt nervous. He didn't want to have the entire Weasley clan against him and attacking Ginny was the number one way to accomplish that.

"You look worried, Harry," George noted.

"Spill," Ron said, "You can keep whatever secrets you like about everything else, but not about our sister."

Harry sighed. "I might have thrown a person at her."

"What?" Fred said flatly.

George was glaring at him.

Ron looked confused, "A person? But why?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, "A seventh year Ravenclaw girl, another fourth year Gryffindor, and Ginny ganged up on Luna."

"What?" Fred and Ron spluttered together, eyes wide. 

"Ginny would never do that!” Ron exclaimed.

But George looked resigned, "Ganged up on her, how?"

"They cornered her against a wall. Ginny told her to stay away from me. The other two started, well, they accused Luna of being my whore and- I snapped. It was lucky I only used a stunner and a levitation charm. I was so, so angry. Luna hadn't even raised her wand to defend herself."

"Ginny and Luna were friends," George said softly.

"Friends don't push you up against a wall and start belittling your character," Harry said, trying very hard to hold his temper.

"You threw Gena into Ginny?" Fred asked. "They were both okay though, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, almost keeping the note of disappointment out of his voice.

"Is that all?" Ron asked, out of the three of them, he knew Harry's temper best.

"I swore at her."

"It was just a girl fight, Harry," Fred defended.

Harry glared at him, "No, it wasn't Fred. I nearly had to carry Luna away from them because she could barely stand; she was so upset. You've seen her in Owl Studies. There are few that could keep up with her. But she wouldn't raise her wand at Ginny."

"But you would," Fred shot at him.

"To keep Luna safe, I would do it again. I hate bullies, and I don't care if she's your baby sister, that doesn't give her a free pass to hurt people."

"But you hurt Ginny," Fred pushed.

"Ginny can take care of herself. She has two parents who love her, six older brothers, and a load of friends. Luna has only her dad and me, with an entire school of students constantly after her. Housemates who steal her things and do Merlin knows what else."

Fred opened his mouth to protest, but George tugged on his arm, "Leave it, Fred."

The twins left, leaving Ron to shift from foot to foot unhappily.

"Did Luna cry?"

Harry nodded.

Ron looked off into the distance. "Luna was always following me and Ginny around. She was- she changed after her mum died. I didn't know how to talk to her after that, and Ginny, well, Ginny was always bossy."

"I would rather not have had to confront your sister."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, then glared at what he saw ahead of him. "What's she doing here?"

By she, Ron meant Umbridge, who was talking to Angelina and Alicia. Both girls were spitting mad, and Harry turned on his heel.

"Oi, where are you going?" Ron asked him.

"Nobody is taking my broom," Harry said, "not today."

Ron hesitated for a few seconds before following Harry.

Umbridge did not notice them.

oOo

"I thought you two would be at Quidditch practice," Hermione remarked as Harry and Ron sat at the table in the library.

Hermione was often found in the library these days with Susan, Astoria, and Luna; today was no different.

"Umbridge is shutting down the clubs and teams," Harry said.

Ron's eyes narrowed, "How do you know that? We didn't get close enough to hear."

Astoria shoved a poster at Ron, "She put them up at lunch."

Ron read the decree, his face going white with anger, "That vile toad. She can't do this."

"McGonagall will sort it out soon enough," Harry said, pulling out a textbook with a sigh.

Luna touched his hand. "If she does take your broom, we can always ride the Hippogryphs and Thestrals."

Harry smiled at her, but his heart was heavy. Decree after decree had arrived, and Harry knew how bad it might get.

Umbridge might not be able to give out detentions but there was plenty she could do to make life at Hogwarts difficult. Not to mention that the BBCE was getting harder and harder to keep secret. With almost half of the student body attending, Harry had found teaching more difficult and the space unsatisfactory.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I am thinking there are too many people in Owl Studies."

She nodded, "I've been thinking that too. And I think I have a solution, though it will be more work for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Nothing new there. What's your idea?"

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we ought to split the group in half. Fifth years and younger in one group and sixth years and seventh years in the other. It is more work for you, and well, I don't think we- that is Ron, Susan, Astoria, Luna, or I should attend the classes with the sixth and seventh years, so it's fair to the others."

Harry was quiet for a moment, mulling it over and running his thumb over the side of Luna's hand, her skin was soft. Slowly, Harry nodded. "There are some people in the fifth year that could advance, but I think you're right, to keep it fair, it would be best to keep them ordered by years. Plus, I could push the sixth and seventh years more; they really have more potential than they let on."

"I still can't believe so many Slytherins joined up," Ron said.

"I am surprised they listen to me," Harry agreed with Ron's sentiment. He didn't dislike the Slytherins, but after years of- of Slytherin versus everyone else and against everything Harry stood for, it was surprising.

"It's because you showed us respect," Astoria said. "We don't have to like you to see that you are smart and talented."

"You like Harry," Susan teased.

Astoria smacked the Hufflepuff girl on the shoulder, "Not like Luna does."

Susan grinned at Harry and Luna, "Glad you two finally came to your senses. Astoria and I were going to start matchmaking if you didn't figure it out soon."

"No. I would never do something so childish," Astoria said resolutely.

Susan and Harry sniggered.

Astoria glared at them.

"It was growing rather obvious," Hermione noted with a small smile.

"Even I noticed," Ron chimed in.

"The rumour mill is aflutter with it," Hermione said. "You'd better both watch your backs. Harry broke a lot of hearts."

"Their hearts can't be broken because to them, Harry is a trophy. Harry isn't a prize to be won, he's a person to aspire to earn the respect of," Luna said a bit harshly.

Hermione stared at Luna, astounded that the girl could make sense. "I agree with you."

"Yeah, yeah, Harry's the lady's man," Ron muttered.

"Or Luna is the gentleman's woman," Susan said, grinning. "Astoria and I had a bet going. It was Luna who kissed you first, right, Harry?"

Harry grinned back and said, "Yep."

"Bollocks," Astoria cursed, reaching into her bag. "Should never have counted on a Gryffindor's bravery, fickle gits."

"Oh, I wasn't betting against Harry's bravery," Susan said, smirking as she took the chocolate frogs from Astoria. "I was betting on Luna being the more sensible of the two."

Luna was smiling at the group of people around her, the warm hand holding hers. She was happier than she could remember since before her mother passed on. Her future was no longer a barren path with only the dream of a better future ahead. She was truly happy right now, in this very moment, and she wasn't alone.

oOo

Dearest Harry,

My apologies that this letter has taken me so long to send to you. I knew not the words that I could give you that you might understand and that others would be without such understanding

I think Fawkes was right to approve.

I think pebbles are best left among rocks.

As the time of merriment approaches, I am pleased to say that the sun shines brighter.

Luna has only the best things to say about you. I do hope to meet you for myself very soon.

Warmest Regards,

Xeno

P.S. Thank you for standing against those who let their ignorance guide their actions.

oOo

It was Sunday night, and a rather sloshed Severus Snape had no interest in teaching dunderheads in the morning.

Severus had every intention of resigning his position at Hogwarts. What reason was there for him to stay now?

He took another swig of fire whiskey.

Damn them.

Though Severus was not quite sure who he was damning, himself, probably. He was, after all, only the sorriest excuse for a human being.

There came a loud knock came on his door.

"GO AWAY!" Severus roared, partially because he wanted to yell and partly because he was far enough away from the door that his voice would not have been heard otherwise.

The door opened of its own volition.

"I cursed that door," Severus muttered darkly as four people entered his apartment suite.

"Well, you look like shite," Sirius Bloody Black said cheerily, swaggering past Minerva and helping himself to a glass of Severus's liquor.

Severus's growled at him, snatching the bottle away from the criminal and cradling it.

Black growled right back, though his was more animalistic and more impressive. Black easily snatched the bottle from Severus's inebriated hands.

Severus fumbled for his wand, but Minerva shook her head at him. "Leave it, Severus, we have important matters to discuss."

Poppy walked over to Severus's kitchen cabinet, easily finding his sobering potion that he had modified to not leave you with a headache.

"I am not sobering up," Severus slurred.

"Oh, be reasonable," Minerva chided, "This is not a respectable condition for a man of your standing."

"I don't care," Severus snarled menacingly, or he tried to, but the effect was lost as his words tangled on his tongue.

"I tried to drink myself to oblivion afterwards as well for a night or two," Filius said regretfully. "It didn't help. It isn't a story that can be logically dismissed."

"Logic," Severus scoffed, "when has logic ever played a part in any of our lives? Least of all when it concerns him ."

"What are you talking about?" Minerva asked.

"Harry," Black answered, taking a deep drink and belching fire.

Severus was momentarily entertained by the light display; maybe he could set his office on fire, and Albus would unemploy him.

But that wouldn’t work, Albus’s office was regularly set on fire, wasn’t it?

“Stupid bird,” Severus muttered to himself.

"Drink this," Poppy said, trying to push the bottle of sobering potion on the depressed Slytherin.

Severus hunched in on himself, ignoring her.

"Don't be stubborn," Poppy chided.

"He's not being stubborn," Filius said. "He's trying to cope."

"Cope with what?" Minerva demanded. "What is so important that we all need to discuss this at this hour, without Albus?"

"He deserves to burn," Severus said, staring at his knees, "old fool should have retired decades ago."

"Mr. Snape," Minerva scolded.

"Minerva, Poppy, sit," Filius said kindly. "Let the man be until we've recounted the story, then by all means, if you don't feel like joining him, we can sober him up to discuss what is to be done."

Poppy sighed, resigned as she sat on the sofa beside Black.

"Done about what? And whose story?" Minerva asked. She remained standing and glaring at the lot of them. "And why isn't Pomona here?"

"Too many dead children," Severus said hollowly.

"What did you just say?" Minerva demanded.

"No one wants to tell Sprout about the almost certain doom of Hogwarts. Not even if we are able to avert it," Black said.

Filius nodded.

"What are you talking about?" Poppy asked, cold down to her bones.

"Filius and I have decided that the two of you need to know the full truth of what's been going on with Harry," Black explained.

"Starting, I hope, with why he used a killing curse on his own skull," Poppy said drily.

Minerva spun to gape at the Mediwitch and shouted, "WHAT!?"

"Sit, Minerva, sit, and we will tell you what we know, and then we will discuss how to keep our children safe," Filius urged her.

Minerva sank into a straight-backed chair she had summoned. "Albus should be here."

"No," Severus and Black said in perfect unison, "he shouldn't be."

Filius and Black told the story. Black had more details. Severus listened numbly as he nursed his glass of fire whiskey.

In the end, Minerva was in tears of rage, and Poppy was crying out of pure sorrow. Both witches remained straight-backed and restrained through the whole of the story, if only because young Mr. Potter had lived through it, they could listen without falling to pieces.

"It wasn't a dream," Poppy said, her voice waning. "He took the killing curse."

"He died," Severus said, speaking for the first time since story-time had started. "He died twice."

Black poured everyone a drink.

"Albus," Minerva said, her tone indescribable with the myriad of emotions trapped in those two syllables.

"I am glad Harry broke the Headmaster's wand," Filius said blandly.

"What are we going to do?" Poppy asked.

"We are going to finish what Potter started," Severus said, his eyes never leaving the flames in the hearth.

"What?" Poppy asked, her voice weak and uncertain.

"We are going to kill Voldemort," Black said.

Severus didn't twitch a muscle.

"What are we going to do about Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Nothing," Filius said. "Nothing but ensure that he never interferes with Harry's life again, that we make sure he does his job and only his job. There will be no more trusting Albus Dumbledore blindly to know best, to do the right thing."

They were all in agreement. Such powerful people, informed and unified in a single purpose; it wasn't only Dumbledore and Voldemort that ought to be worried. Any person or party, the Ministry of Magic included, that sought to endanger the lives of the students at Hogwarts had best be prepared for a resounding defeat.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, superdogs, and reactions, pretty please?